Warnings: Ludwig punches Gilbert in the face again. Enough said. (Also, France. He's a warning in of himself sometimes.)

-2.2-

That night, dinner is tense. Very tense. Francis sits at the head of the table, glancing nervously between the others. Arthur shovels French food into his mouth. Uncle Roddy calmly drinks his coffee. Fratello eats a tomato. Gilbert breaks out in a cold sweat. Toni, still concerned about Gilbert's black eye, lightly taps his shoulder every once in awhile, getting only a shaky smile in response. Ludwig stabs at his plate.

"Ve~?" I look from Gilbert to Ludwig and back. No matter what's going on in the background, they continue to clash gazes, frantic red on furious blue.

Francis clears his throat, "So, um, I believe someone has to make up for that vase in the hallway, and-" His mouth firmly snaps shut at the blond German's glare.

"Never mind that," Arthur huffs, "This is getting ridiculous! What is wrong with you two?"

"This is none of your-"

"Like hell it isn't!" Ludwig frowns at the interruption as the rabbit continues, "This is my household, and you are guests. Thus, you will remain civil, stop with the arguments, and just drink some bloody tea."

"What- the awesome Gilbert never drinks tea! Tea is for grouchy brits with big, bushy brows!" The arctic wolf snickers, back to his old self once more.

"Gil, mon ami, I don't think it's best to defy Arthur right now." Francis sighs.

"Nein! I don't take orders from some kleiner Kaninchen!"

"Who are you calling bunny, you overgrown dog?!"

"Gilbert, knock it off," Roderich comments off-handedly.

"Nein! You shut up!"

"Gil, por favor!"

"See? What did I tell you about potato-sucking bastards?"

"Ve~?"

"WILL EVERYONE JUST SHUT UP?!" A stark hush falls over the seven of us, Ludwig standing, face hardened, "There is absolutely no point in all of this nonsensical fighting! You're a family, so why don't you shut up and act like it?! I swear, it's like all you ever do is argue! What kind of a family is that?! Alright, sure, I'll admit the tensions between Gilbert and I have definitely fueled some of the flames, but believe me, there's no way you can just automatically be this toxic to each other! So shut up and stop it!"

The rest of dinner is spent in silence.

I lay in my new bed, thinking.

A lot happened today…

I sigh. This is exhausting. First of all, complete and utter morons surround me. This I found out fairly quickly, and by 'fairly quickly,' I mean this morning. These people are so flat-out stupid that they honestly argued about their uncle and his spirit coming to visit. There are so many things wrong with that, that I can't even begin to cover it all.

Plus, the aforementioned spirit bound to their uncle is my arschloch of a bruder. Again, so many things wrong with this that it's hard to handle. This terrible excuse for a person left the community in the middle of the night with no explanation, and never came back. This happened four centuries ago. By now, I was convinced he was dead. And yet, he's not. He's not dead at all, but instead magically bound to a snobby Austrian. However, 'uncle Roddy' is not enough of an excuse to explain four centuries of no contact. There's no way in hell Roderich has been alive since the sixteen hundreds, end of discussion. Therefore, Gilbert has no good reason as to why he disappeared to who-knows-where with who-knows-who for who-knows-how-long.

Note to self: punch him in the face again for good measure.

And then there's the fact that I'm literally stuck here. I'm wounded, and in such a state, it's simply not possible for me to get away from this mad house. Even if I want to leave, I can't, because, let's face it, Feliciano would rather go without painting then let me go home at this point. Although, the truth of the matter is… I'm not sure I do want to leave.

On one hand, Feliciano's actually really endearing, and while I find him over-dramatic and annoying on many levels, I do sort of enjoy his company. He's loud, zany, persistent, and absolutely hell-bent on befriending me, but, to summarize him in a word, adorable. If I just left, would he cry? Gott, I hope not. If something I did caused him, the cheeriest, most bubbly and happy-go-lucky one of this ragtag group of aristocrats to cry, I'd feel really guilty. However, then there are the interactions between these psychopaths. Honestly, how can one group of people, relatives no less, get along so horribly? Is this all they ever do together, yell at each other? I don't know if I can stand this much longer.

My feelings are kind of a jumbled mess right now.

I sigh heavily. The door to my room opens.

I sit up from my sprawling position on the plush mattress, cold eyes narrowing at the unexpected visitor. "Gilbert, what are you doing here?" I growl.

"Ahah, hey West!" The Prussian grins, "The awesome me felt things were a little tense between us, so I've decided to take it easy on you and let you apologize!"

My eye twitches, "What?"

"Well, ja!" He continues on, "After all, it has been a long time, so I'm sure you have a lot of unresolved anger on you. You should be thankful your big bruder is so kind and considerate!"

Well, looks like it's time to act upon that note to self from earlier.

"Ve~" I chant in-between bites of delicious pasta. Mm, I love pasta so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so, so-

"But West!" My train of thought is abruptly cut off as none other than the wolf brothers enter the dining room.

"For the last time, leave me alone!"

"Ve~?"

Something is off here. Oh, I know! Gilbert seems way less narcissistic than usual! Yay! I got it right, but why? It definitely has to do with Ludwig, what with Gilbert following him like a lost puppy, but what happened? Did Luddy do something mean again? I bet Luddy did something mean again. Ludwig's been really cold ever since Gilbert showed up, probably having to do with that big speech he gave about 'four centuries' and stuff. He even punched Gilbert in the face!

Hey, wait a minute! Didn't Gilbert only have one black eye?!

"About time you two showed up for breakfast- wait, what happened to Gilbert's other eye?!" Arthur scolds before freaking out.

"He's been bothering me since about one in the morning," Ludwig glares at his fratello.

"What- one in the morning?! How can anyone get enough beauty sleep to look and act gorgeous in that amount time?!" Cousin Francis exclaims, "Roderich! Do something; this is getting out of hand!""

Uncle Roddy looks up from scowling at his coffee, "Gilbert, go make me some tea. This coffee has too much cream in it."

"What- you can go make your own damn tea!"

"Gilbert," His iris-colored eyes narrow behind wiry frames, "I will not hesitate to call Elizabeta."

The arctic wolf's face pales, "Right on it!"

"Make me some pastries too while you're at it!"

"Wait, what's so terrifying about this 'Elizabeta'?" Ludwig looks between my uncle and the place Gilbert once stood.

"Elizabeta Héderváry is our madre," Fratello answers docilely, "And also the sorella of Roderich."

"Your mother is scary?"

"Si!" Toni interjects, "She carries a skillet and swings it around like nobody's business!"

Roderich sighs, "Ja, the last time I got on Elizabeta's nerves, she smacked me upside the head. I had a ginormous bump on my skull for a full week. She really knows what she's doing when it comes to deadly cooking utensils."

"Yes, Ms. Héderváry is quite the woman, isn't she?"

"Oui, I couldn't agree more!" Francis contributes, "I mean, have you seen her breasts? Such perfectly shaped sacks of beauty! C'est très magnifique!"

"YOU BLOODY PERVERT!" Arthur grabs Francis's ear and pulls, nearly dragging him right out of his chair, "AND RIGHT IN FRONT OF HER CHILDREN, TOO!"

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow! Mon lapin, that hurts!"

"Eh, you had it coming," Roderich comments, going back to his breakfast.

"THE AWESOME ME HAS RETURNED WITH PRISSY TEA AND SNACKS!"

After that, we all settle into a relatively normal routine… or, as normal as these people can get. Every morning, our six-person group sits down to a family breakfast. More often than not, Feliciano finds some way to sneak pasta into his bowl for breakfast. Of course, this leads to Lovino, Arthur, and Roderich criticizing his choice of meal and the peppy Italian brushing them off with some embarrassing comment about the rabbit spirit's cooking, his uncle's laziness, and or his brother's strange obsession with tomatoes.

The first meal of the day finished, we all tend to go off and do our own things. Roderich, I find, plays the piano, and quite expertly at that. Every day after breakfast, he promptly sits himself down in the manor's music room, causing the most fantastic melodies to flit out the door of the cream-painted room and all throughout the rest of the villa. This is s certainty. Another is Gilbert's obvious fondness towards the twins' uncle. Whenever Roderich plays the piano, the wolf can be found nearby, whether he's standing in a dark corner of the room or sitting right next to the other on the piano bench. Regardless of his position or placement, a small smile always graces his pale lips.

As for Antonio and Lovino, they can normally be spotted lounging around somewhere; these two are fairly laid-back. Sometimes they wander about the nearby vineyards, but sometimes they're consuming the tomatoes in Francis's kitchen, and storage room, and the fruit bowls littered about, and all the hidden slots he had made so they would stop eating all his tomatoes. Hell, there was even that one time Antonio accidentally broke one of the far-too-fragile-for-practical-use sort of vases carelessly left about, only to find yet another hot-spot for unusual tomatoes. They spent the rest of their afternoon, that fateful summer day, smashing every one of those dainty vases to find the rest of the Frenchman's secret tomato stashes, promptly causing Francis to burst into tears at the untimely deaths of his priceless valuables.

Arthur was the one to comfort him, despite their eccentric relationship. Arthur's by far the most mature one of the group. He usually spends his time roaming about the villa, writing things on that wooden clipboard of his, of which seems to be almost glued to his arm. Well, that is until Francis gets bored. The owner of the mansion is exactly the kind of snobby Frenchman to drink and socialize the day away, but, apparently, that somehow gets old. At this point, he tends to stomp around the manor, whining loudly for Arthur's attention. Eventually, the rabbit hears his complaints and approaches the buzzed and unsatisfied human. From then onward, Arthur's afternoon is wasted entertaining a wealthy, perverted romantic. He doesn't appear to be very fond of this daily occurrence.

And that leaves Feliciano, who, after breakfast, makes it his goal to drag me out painting with him. So far, in less than a week, he's taken me to the sunroom, the neighboring vineyards again, the villa's garden, of which is filled to the brim with flawless roses, and the casual lounge when he wanted to paint his brother and the fox spirit sitting around, eating tomatoes. Lovino was rather flustered at the prospect of being a live model, while Antonio mainly just grinned and carried on with the conversation they began to hold beforehand.

I've taken note that each of the others tend to have a set personality that they normally fall back on. Lovino's the vulgar one, Francis's the romantic, Antonio's the 'boy next door,' Roderich's the resident freeloader, Arthur's the gentlemanly one, Gilbert's the trouble-maker, and Feliciano's the childish one.

Approximately four days after Gilbert and Roderich's initial arrival, I finally decide to give in and call a truce with my bruder.

I sigh, "Alright, fine. I give."

The Prussian looks at me in confusion, "What- what?"

"I said 'I give,'" I shove an outstretched hand in his face, "Peace?"

Gilbert's blood-colored eyes widen as he roughly grabs ahold of the appendage, "I'll make it up to you! I swear, you won't regret this, West! I'll be the most awesome gross bruder ever! Just you wait and see; after all, I am the awesomest wolf ever already!"

I regret this.

A/N:

Hey, guys! So, in this chapter, the character's officially stated Elizabeta's relevance, Ludwig gave Gilbert another black eye, making him look like a raccoon, and the wolf brothers finally shut up and hugged it out. Er, shook hands it out. No, that doesn't work. Fuck it, I'm trying to say they made up. A. K. A., Gil's not going to be punched in the face again. As far as I've planned, that is. Who knows at this point?

Anyways, sometimes I kind of feel like no one actually reads these aside from the reviewer responses, because no one ever brings up what I discuss? I don't know; I guess it's just me being weird. XP

Also, in case no one noticed, it says in the last scene of this sub-part "The Prussian" when referring to Gilbert. This subtly delves a little more into the spirit animals' backgrounds in this AU. You see, since spirit animals stop aging after awhile, as we've seen with Aldrich in part 1, this means that basically all of the spirit animals in this AU have some really crazy backstory about what the hell they've been doing for the past four centuries. Ludwig's the only exception, because he was with his and Gilbert's old community for all of that time. All will most likely be explained at some point or another, mainly in the sequel, but if you want to guess what the backgrounds of Arthur, Antonio, and Gilbert are, I really wouldn't mind.

Responses to review(s):
Seele Esser Deutsch: Thank you! My favorites are the following: 1. Canada, 2. Russia, 3. Prussia and N. Italy. Prussia and Vene are tied for third, because I like them equally. =3

maryranstadler1: Thank you so much! Ha, yeah, like I said, there's going to be a call back to that in the intermission. I'm not saying how though; it'll be obvious when you read it. X3

Happy New Year's and see you tomorrow!