(ludwig/hungary/prussia) tyger and burn and war games.

Disclaimer: these characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya~ subversions are the product of my own skewed brain. u

AN/: The question remains as thus: why, during those nine hours, were my thoughts centered on these three. _ The first started it all. e

Tyger

Notes- but first, you can't help but succumb to it.

There were murmured voices in the background behind her, dropped and low, almost like a quiet, soft purr, growled like one of the cats, and Eliza's first thought was of vibrant orange stripes, luminous, prowling through the darkness; unstoppable, beautiful, and utterly magnificent, as it was when, years ago, she had first set wondering, stunned eyes upon them.

A Tiger. And her heart beat even now in it's thrall, Roderich's grip light on her shoulder as the gleam of a green clothed man, extravagantly bowing in front of the pride of his exhibit, the golden brocade announcing 'THE WONDERS OF EAST' as with the sparkle in his eye, he drew back the curtain.

The claws clicked lightly as they came closer, and light points pressed to her upper thigh, the ten claws tips dull as they pressing almost painfully as they trailed lightly up her skin. The low, growling purr, rumbled through the air, closer this time, following the lines of light pain, and the heat of panting breath, that she was almost able to feel against her skin.

The burning forests, the tropical heat under that extravagant sun... the exotic, zealous, power of that place, which she had yet been able to experience and enjoy, and Eliza was lost in the memory, as, she could not remember a time when she was as happy, as free.

There was a hiss- almost forming the words: "you're definitely a cute little Magyar, aren't you?"

Another set of paws, softer, sheathed, brushed across her lips, pressing against them firmly, before a rough growl was at her ear, and she almost quivered at the proximity of the gruff, yet surprisingly recognizable as human words. "Eliza... Eliza. Don't make a move. You are incapacitated."

...What?

Dimmed hazel opened briefly, squinting in the half light, focusing on a smudge of a mouth, and blue, surprisingly wearied eyes, before the hands clasped tighter around her mouth to smother her scream, and the second set of hands gripped her firmly around her knees, keeping her straight as Ludwig's hands pulled her straining head back with a shove.

"Eliza! Roderich has Anschluss! Do not resist!"

The words were slanted, poor Hungarian, and the subject of Anschluss was so ridiculous; she pushed up against their hands again, and the grip travelled farther up her thighs again, before heart beating, startled, confused hazel shot down, meeting gleaming red, and it took her a minute to recognize the gleaming grin, Gilberts hand stopping inches from the hem of the night shirt she had worn to bed.

She stared at him, movements paused for the moment, anger boiling up in her at the injustice- before the odd, gentle glow to the slant of his hair, a gentle gold, turning the strands ruddy, caught her attention, and... she wasn't in her room.

Heart beat increasing, she took in the room that was not the one she had gone to sleep in; the heavy gold paint, laced with a red almost like blood in a gaudy, disgusting display of power. The pained wood was carved, curving around ripples of fur and claws, forming a flurry of beasts, tigers, wolves, eagles.

The hands on her face moved, reminding her painfully of their presence and, panicking, disoriented hazel stared upwards, tracing out the lines of the face sliding –with it's sharp angles and strong bones- into stark reality above her. A blank gaze stared back, before leaning forward sharply, his position shifting until he had taken up her entire vision.

"…etha. Elizavetha. Do you comprehend? Roderich has Anschluss."

Quietly, the blue searched her eyes, seeming pleased with whatever confirmation they found there, before the hands were smoothing down to Elizas arms, and she was lifted forcefully from the carved table, Gilberts grip lifting to take her other arm. She coughed, pushing backwards, eyes widening as she was physically lifted, Ludwigs arms tight around her limbs, and the knowledge finally registering- what was happening, as she was taken, and Roderich-

The smooth purr was back in her ear again, lifting lightly at end, as if thin, sarcastic lips had tweaked into a grin. "Welcome to the Reich."

burn.

Notes- 'Even if you go down a different path, your destination will be the same. I'll meet you there.'

He came again to her, later. He'd try to mask his presence, walking softly, the hard military issue leather squeak from his audacious boots left in favour of soft soled shoes or something, although she could tell he was there.

Eliza raised her head from her knees as the tall, faint figure rounded the corner, the messy silver of the strands of hair setting him ablaze in the dark. She met the faintly inquisitive red gleam briefly, before shifting to the left, hand reaching out to grip the bars for balance.

Correct.

There was a faint sigh behind her. Eliza kept her gaze turned away, as the hazel glittered slightly, before something wet hit her knee and she cursed, holding her breath in an attempt to calm her breaths. She had to stop being able to mark his presence. It was a ridiculous skill to begin with, let alone here…

More wet things trickled down her chin, and she bit her cheek, small 'sczar' breaking the silence, and she turned her head as far as she could so she couldn't see him.

After a minute, hazel widened as she realized she had focused on the mirror, that the pale, thin faced figure that faced her was actually her- and the piercing red gleamed as Gilbert stared back.

Notes- 'You never really think about the implications of war, do you?'

War Games

She quivered on the cool slab of the table, knuckles white under the straps bound tightly to her legs and arms, and Gilbert wanted to reach out, and grab her shoulders, shake her, hug her, kiss her, whatever- feel her, love her, more then ever.

But it was too late, wasn't it?

There was a grip around his heart, tightening; but it couldn't be guilt, wouldn't be, as there was nothing wrong going on here. The drugs were, they were necessary. The 'treatment'; that was necessary too. Even the saw-

The black glove in front of him withdrew, clenching quietly into a tight fist, before returning to the sleek black leather pocket, the cool metal of the grip of his gun freezing against his fingers. The white lab coats glided like ghosts in front of him, impartial as they examined ever inch of her body, the impure blood, quietly dissecting into pieces the heart of the disease of the volk.

This was a war, a war, in the least, and thus this was god damn well to be expected. She knew that, she had to know that; after all the battles for spoils, clashes if armor, those years.

Yet, as the light buzz of the circular saw drowned out her rough-cloth smothered screams, and he stood like some black shadow in the corner, back turned, eyes trained firmly away as determination set his teeth; he still had to tell himself that, didn't he?

fin. ende. vég. son.

good night.