2. Of Revelation

The next day began early, and for once Ludwig didn't mind not being woken by sunlight weaving its way through gaps in elaborate curtains. Still, for a moment, he did not remember anything, all but landing face-first on the dusty floor, startled, when Prussia yelled at him to get up. The elder quirked an eyebrow at his brother's groggy falling out of bed, nudging Ludwig in the side once with the tip of his boot.

At last, it was in fact the sight of shiny black boots that brought back Ludwig's memory after he'd lazily turned his head to the side. Looking up he saw immaculately ironed trouser legs, a blue coat with an excessive number of medals pinned to it (the most prominent one being an iron cross) and, eventually, Prussia's smirking face. The older nation casually ran a hand through his fair hair, mildly shaking his head at his ward's antics.

"Honestly, I'm disappointed."

It took Ludwig exactly three seconds to attempt a coherent answer, all the while hastily scrambling to his feet.

"Give me a few more minutes! I'm sorry!"

Prussia jokingly waved a hand at him, quizzically remarking, "I was kidding, Lud. You still have another hour."

And with that, he left the room, chuckling to himself. Ludwig stared after him, before finally reaching for his uniform and sitting down on his cot. Even if he wasn't quite sure whether what Prussia had told him had actually been the truth, he did not see a way left for himself to go back to sleep now.

Having begun to change clothes, he momentarily stepped over to the narrow window, which was positioned high enough to make it possible to call it a loop-hole, and stood on tiptoe to get a better view of what might be happening outside. He reached for the marmoreal windowsill and pulled himself upwards, just a little higher-

Just as expected. He knew that none of the parts of the army stationed in their vicinity were supposed to participate in a battle other than those regarding the siege today, which explained why the narrow street in front of his window lay almost abandoned. Still, how he and Prussia would manage to arrive at the actual battlefield in time remained a mystery to him, one he merely dismissed for the moment, though.

Eventually, he let go of the windowsill and lowered himself to the ground again, exchanging the linen trousers he had slept in for his uniform ones. At the very last, he reached for his boots, which went up almost all the way to his knees.

He pulled them on and stretched his toes probingly before standing up from his bedstead, starting to gather up his things. There was not much he had brought with him – a small book on poetry, a set of spare clothes, a small notebook, a quill. He knew Prussia kept diaries, so he had decided to try it himself – what had come out of it, however, was not worth mentioning. It was not that Ludwig was a bad writer, just that whenever he began to write, try to come to terms with his feelings and the happenings around him, it was like walking through thick fog, and at some point, the words would stop flowing.

Prussia said it was because he was young, had yet to learn how to separate his own emotions from his people's. Now that he thought about, it applied perfectly to what his guardian had told him the previous day, even though he hadn't been sure what to make of the theory back then.

With a shrug, Ludwig threw the book into his small rucksack, together with everything else. After that, he hesitated for a moment, eventually realizing that there was nothing left for him to do here. He headed for the door, turned around once more to look at what had temporarily been his abode.

Somehow, he felt he wouldn't miss it.

Outside, Ludwig walked down the cracked stairs leading up to the door and made his way through the front garden.

He indecisively stood next to a broken fence post and wondered where Prussia could be, looking up and down the street, searching for the similar figure he knew to linger here somewhere, until he turned abruptly at the sound of hooves on cobblestones, nearing.

Prussia winked at Ludwig from astride a gray horse, making a beeline for him along the edge of the street. He had added a spiked helmet to his uniform, which he now primly straightened with one hand while keeping the reins in the other.

"Oi, I thought I'd told you that you still have time!" he shook his head, an amiable, yet ironic flick of his chin rather than anything, ruffling Ludwig's hair as he rode past. The younger stared behind, irritated and just a tad bit embarrassed at the same time. He almost thought Prussia would just desert him as that, before the other looked over his shoulder and sent him a look that clearly prompted the younger to follow him.

Ludwig had to run to catch up with Prussia, but as he did, simply walking next to him proved to be enough, as Prussia kept his horse at a slow pace.

"Where are we going?"

Prussia let out a clipped laugh, "Well, you'll need a horse yourself, won't you?"

Together, they went to a barn on the outskirts of town, where provisory stables had been set up. After an odyssey of asking around and dealing with confused stable boys, one of them eventually toddled off to carry out their orders, having been faced with Prussia's daunting glare as well as the medals decorating his uniform. Minutes later, Ludwig sat astride a dun horse, smiling proudly despite himself. Even though horseback riding had, of course, been part of his training, he had never cared about the animals themselves much, going far enough as to make dealing with them a matter of luck for him - but this one had not caused him any embarrassment yet, which he was thankful for.

"Gott, you look so stunning" Prussia commented with a wink, all traces of sarcasm sneaking into the comment unnoticed by the younger. Ludwig beamed.

"But there is something missing, I do believe…"

Prussia turned in his saddle to rummage through the bag he had attached to it, until grinning triumphantly and riding up to his brother. Before the younger knew it, a spiked helmet, just like Prussia's, had been dropped on his head. He peaked up from underneath it, eyes round as saucers.

Red eyes glinted, and Prussia snickered, "Now, that's perfect!"

Naturally, Ludwig had contemplated it - but he was caught by surprise all the same when Prussia spurred his horse and made it gallop out of town and into the countryside without a warning. Ludwig hesitated for a moment, but then followed suit, struggling to catch up with his brother. His horse, a good-natured mare, had in fact turned out to be easy enough to handle, but also had a plump trait to it - unlike Prussia's battle-trained gelding, lithely trotting ahead now. To Ludwig, it almost seemed as if his brother was trying to make fun of him, a suspicion he tried to decline.

Eventually, Prussia let himself fall back, and for a few minutes, they rode next to each other, sinking into a deep, pensive silence. The day almost felt too nice, too normal to be one in a row of many that had been claimed by this war, to become the date of a battle, forever to be anchored in people's memories. As the thought jolted through Ludwig, the sudden realization of it felt more intense than it should have, and he almost felt guilty for it, nervously twisting the reins in between his fingers.

Even though Prussia did look contemplative as well, in his case, it was probably for entirely different reasons. Ludwig lowered his gaze.

"I know what you're thinking, Kaiserreich."

At that, his head shot up again. "You do?"

"Of course. And I'm going to tell you something – first of all, which day is it today, Ludwig?"

The younger was a bit baffled, not to say confused, but replied smoothly, "The 1st of September, 1870."

"Yes. And what does that tell you?"

Ludwig had learned facts by heart, and while he admitted not understanding every tiny detail regarding their situation of warfare, he had been sure of knowing the basics. What it was Prussia was implying, though, he had no idea.

Still, he thought for a moment, until shrugging, "I don't know…?" He hated the feeling of being clueless, hated feeling Prussia's burning glare scrutinize him for it.

In fact, it only took seconds for red eyes to meet his, and for the older nation to impatiently begin to tap an irregular beat on the calloused leather of the saddle, sighing quietly.

"It means" Prussia started, "That there have been smaller battles raging on for some days now, and-"

This probably was not the sort of answer Ludwig had expected – it appeared as though Prussia had not guessed his thoughts, after all – but still, he decided to intervene.

"So then it means that you have missed out on those, because you stayed with me, near that village?"

He realized immediately that he had just said something entirely stupid, and wondered not for the first time just why there seemed to be so much he had yet to learn. Had he not collected the amount of experience he had when it came to classifying Prussia's expressions, the amused flicker momentarily lightening the elder's eyes would probably have been lost on him. As it was, though, he did perceive it, and the heat rising to his face proved to be impossible to fight back.

"I'll give you that one – you never cease to amuse me, Kleiner. Say, you didn't even notice…?"

"Notice what?" Ludwig hadn't been aware of being able to feel even more left out on something elemental. Prussia cackled, making a lightly exaggerated gesture with his right arm, beckoning Ludwig to observe their vicinity. And that was when the younger saw it, now finally letting his gaze stray from the path they were following.

Their surroundings flew by. Not just in the way grass and flowers seemed to pass in a blur when moving at a speed much faster than walking pace, but in a way that made one think distances actually melted into each other, or were left out wholly. And that, Ludwig realized, was probably exactly what was happening.

His shocked expression betrayed him, even before he had the chance to mutter a weak, "How…?" He was sure Prussia must've missed it. Even as he was doing his best to stay upright on his horse, there was a sudden dizziness sneaking up on him, one that could not be quelled – the phenomenon had probably already set in shortly after they'd left town, but now that Ludwig actually knew of it, it made his head spin.

Prussia responded, in a voice full of exuberance and ostentation, loud enough to be heard despite the rustle of the wind and the rattle of hooves, "We're nations, that's why!"

"But-"

"Do you actually believe in the sentimental rubbish I spilled yesterday? Look at this, Kaiserreich, it's amazing!"

"Ja…" And Ludwig stared, stared and wonder how in the world the horses stayed unaffected by this, trotted on as if there was nothing, despite – this, whatever it was, a nation's astonishing ability of defying the laws of nature, morphing long passages into shortcuts.

Another implication of what Prussia had said, or at the very least insinuated, suddenly struck him: He had not missed a single fight. Much more likely, he had constantly rode, or even run from one battlefield to another, in a matter of minutes, joining their soldiers whenever he felt like it.

And in the evenings, he had returned to Ludwig, told him about events the younger had believed him to have simply heard about, sometime during the day, talking to a general, maybe. Everything seemed so clear now.

Ludwig asked himself what facts still remained Prussia had not mentioned so far, and whether there was a system behind all of it, as to at which point knowledge would be revealed to him. It almost felt as though Prussia tried to keep him dependant, tributary-

"Can you see it?" the elder suddenly called out, and Ludwig felt his attention torn from his train of thoughts and towards the direction whereto Prussia pointed, squinting to make out more details along the horizon.

He then realized it was the Prussian army – as the blurred colors of the uniforms suggested - or at least part of it. Single figures of soldiers now slowly became discernible, as they approached them, already slowing in pace.

Here they were.

…after what had not even felt like half an hour of being on their way.

Ludwig gulped, and then glanced at Prussia, who didn't even bother looking back at him.

At last, he sensed how finally, they withdrew to a humanely pace again, without Ludwig himself even realizing it, all but relying on Prussia. The space still separating them from the mass of people in front of them grew smaller and smaller, until Ludwig could feel curious gazes settle upon the two of them, investigations as to their identities welling up among the soldiers. Prussia stemmed them with a dismissive gesture, confidence written all over his face, back straight.

And then, the sound of gunfire reached their ears. Ludwig tensed, but, throwing a side glance at Prussia, he noted that the other did not even bat an eyelid at the disturbance. The exact opposite, in fact - he grinned.

As Prussia urged his horse onwards again, Ludwig could think of no better description of his movements and expression other than euphoric. It was hard not to be infected by it, and as he followed his brother, who had begun to direct his horse along the edge of the crowd, he found his own mouth stretch into a reluctant, excited smile.

The rifle swung over Prussia's back swayed up and down with every step the horse took, and Ludwig wondered, as his eyes smoothly followed the motion, whether it would be used today. The thought of it felt thrilling and fearsome at the same time.

They emerged out onto a plain, where the grass lay flat and damp, stemming from the past, rainy days. Mud had been carried across it, so that now, the ground lying before them was an odd mixture of green and brown.

Ludwig wrinkled his nose at it and looked up and around to observe their adjacencies.

His breath hitched when he realized the army was everywhere, had basically encircled the area the French were trying to defend.

Prussia reached over to nudge Ludwig's askew helmet into a straight position again, sneering.

"More than 200,000 men altogether" he said smugly and, having noticed his brother's wan, admiring expression. "Two days ago, at Beaumont, we made this all possible, and now look! Let me tell you this, Ludwig, General von Moltke is a genius…"

Prussia had a habit of alluding to names without further explanation, but this one in particular had been referred to often enough for Ludwig to know of the other's deep admiration for the man.

As if on cue, words from the previous day came to mind.

Tomorrow, we are going to win.

It seemed quite possible now.

"In general, our secret is that we're not waiting for the whole of the army to summon, but let smaller, agile troops attack right away" Prussia expounded as they rode down the hill, a little astray from the main path the soldiers took, "That, and the fact that we were first to make use of railways."

Ludwig nodded eagerly. "That was four years ago, right? That's why we were able to win against Austria."

"Exactly, colluding with the fact that he's a pansy, and that we had this-"

He drew out his rifle, resting it in his grasp.

"A needle-fired gun", Ludwig said, automatically and without awaiting the question that would have been sure to follow. "But isn't it obsolete now-"

Prussia gave a quick nod, cutting Ludwig's remark right then and there. He threw the weapon over to the other, who struggled to catch it. When he managed to, he immediately clung to it, in fear of letting it fall. Prussia laughed almost manically. "Oh, come on, don't be like that! Show me how it's held properly!"

Ludwig reluctantly attempted to do so, adjusting to the rhythmic sway of his horse's movements while withdrawing his other hand from its hold on the reins. The gun felt heavy and unwieldy to him, and he was certain that even if he tried, he could not, would not be able to handle it the right way in a decisive situation. It might have had to do with the fact that he was a boy, holding a gun made for grown men, but such observations rarely ever occurred to him. As it commenced quivering in his grip, he quickly handed the weapon back to Prussia.

"Good enough - for a beginner", the older said, not without merriment.

With that, he reached back and fetched a slim object wrapped in cloth from his bag.
Polished, sharp metal came into sight as Prussia unpacked it, and Ludwig realized, along with the thought that no, he should not have been surprised at all, that it was a bayonet.

Prussia expertly fixed it to his rifle, his movements quick and systematic, and never stopped to focus on what he obviously expected to appear right ahead anytime soon, looking up from his task regularly.

And then, the outlines of houses began to loom.

A village.

The sound of distant screams, machine guns - it all merged into a dull mass of despair, rising to the sky just as the smoke caused by numerous fires all over the place did, and Ludwig could only stare.

"Bazeilles…" Prussia hissed.

Ludwig did not hear the word muttered so quietly by his brother, and he did not need to. The story behind it all became unnecessary at the sight of a town burning down to its fundaments, and even though Ludwig tried not to let it on, he was shaken to the core. Even his horse, having remained still until now, through every situation they had encountered, began to fidget, neighing in a way that could have been called nervous.

Prussia's expression had taken on a strained tinge as he surveyed the battlefield lying ahead, confined within the walls of houses and bound to the streets.

"They've never fought like that..."

"Are they-"

"Not Prussian. They're Bavaria's. The concept stays the same, though."

Ludwig nodded. Bavaria's men. It looked as though her fears had at last become reality.

He tried to prevent himself from thinking as they passed the scene, and clenched his hands around the reins while leaning forward. Unlike Prussia, he had not made up his mind over their current situation – war was an intriguing issue, that much he knew, but the euphoria had not quite set in yet, despite the expected. Had he not always believed to exist for this, hadn't that been what everybody had told him all along?

But now, and it became as self-evident to him as the sun rising each new day, he realized that war had, in fact, two faces. He was almost relieved when Prussia did not lead him right into town, but turned to keep their course through the countryside for a little longer.

Ludwig was so caught up in his musings that the silhouette of a woman sitting in the grass to their left hit him unprepared by all measures, and he wasn't the only one affected by it. Several soldiers turned their heads as they passed her, some even went as far as to attempt to help her to her feet, believing her to be a French civilian.

Her features were illuminated as she turned, adjusted her position so as to sit more comfortably – an action so trivial, in their situation – flattening her skirts. She suddenly seemed very familiar, and it was not only the sheer sight of her, so uncanny and incongruous for the situation.

Then, all of a sudden, it occurred to him. Eyes dilating, he thought, Bavaria.

And then, When did she get here?

"Gilbert! Gilbert, look!"

Prussia brought his horse to a halt, whirling around, gaze fixating on him with a sharpness to it he could not place. "What is it?"

"Over there!"

Bavaria looked up, palms pressed to her reddened face. Bloodshot eyes, brows drawn together in shock and sadness, restraint melting away.

She was crying.

It was a picture of utter, raw mourning, one he had never seen before, in no possible constellation. But Prussia's focus brushed over her huddled form just once, unblinkingly. It elicited a whirl of emotions passing through her eyes, a mixture Ludwig could not define – still, the surprise as to their presence he had expected to see was not comprised. It shook him all the same, and he was tempted to simply approach her, get her away from here.

"Bruder, we have to help her!"

Prussia glanced at him, shook his head, eventually said, "It was her own choice to come here. She didn't have to." He shouldered his gun, waving him onwards. He could as well have said, If she's too cowardly to bear the pain, it's not our problem - soldiers dying is only natural.

No matter if Prussia's reaction had resulted from cruelty or something else, something anchored in a nation's being, a wisdom Ludwig still had to obtain, he felt something inside of him break as they simply kept on moving along.

Don't think.

He could practically feel Bavaria's stare linger on him as he turned away from her, and he squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to blend it all out.

"Ludwig, she knows what she's doing. Don't worry."

The fact that Prussia was actually trying to comfort him was unexpected. At times, the different sides to his brother's personality still managed to astonish him. He almost felt thankful.

"Alright…"

"Now come here, Ludwig."

For a moment, it honestly seemed as though Prussia was going to pull him in for a brief hug as their horses stood directly next to each other, but then the atmosphere that had so unexpectedly manifested itself was gone, replaced with the elder's former derisive air. How many battles he had seen, how often he had had to suffer with his people through the imaginary bond they shared, transferring their pain onto him – there was no answer to it, and still Prussia's inurement to it was obvious.

Before either of them had the chance to say anything else, all hell seemed to break lose. The row of soldiers in front of them broke, the men stumbling apart. A figure burst through, a young man, barely above his teens, from the looks of him. He had obviously come from the direction of the town they had just left behind, and his uniform was caked in mud, face flushed in endeavor and eyes wide with both fear and excitement as he looked around frantically, lifting his gun.

When he realized there were several hostile soldiers staring back at him, though, while he was on his own, his mood rapidly switched from triumphal to tremulous. Awareness of the repercussions his rash act was about to trigger quickly set in.

"Dieu…"

Ludwig would never forget what happened next.

None of the soldiers even had the chance to move in the time it took Prussia to make his horse leap forwards and spin his gun so as to ram the butt of it into the Frenchman's forehead. The young soldier's knees gave in underneath him as his consciousness evaporated in an instant, with nothing more than a startled yelp, and he tumbled forwards, landing face down in the mud. The rifle he had been carrying was flung from his now slack grasp and slithered over the ground until being picked up by one of the bystanders.

Only seconds later did Ludwig realize his breath had hitched at the scene unfolding right in front of his eyes.

The inkling he got as to what was probably going to happen next was interrupted by the cheers erupting amongst the soldiers, one in particular stepping forwards to enthusiastically pat Prussia on the back.

"Nice one, Bruderherz. The real action's going down over there, though!"

Prussia grinned back, whisking his gaze over the other man's battered uniform once but apparently deciding to let the matter rest, "I know, I know. Now if you'd like to finish off the pitiful fellow we have here…go ahead, I still need to show around someone."

At that, the stranger took a step backwards and sent Ludwig a grin, "That 'someone' is obviously you, am I right, Ludwig?"

Startled at how he actually knew who he was, Ludwig only nodded tensely.

"No need to be shy - I'm your brother! We're family! See?"

Ludwig nearly yelped at the revelation. Sturdy figure, broad shoulders, sandy hair and a pair of piercing gray eyes – if at all, he had encountered the man briefly before, without being introduced. His uniform, stained and ripped as it was, was what gave him away in the end. It was definitely not Prussian, but Ludwig did not need long to file it otherwise. Which only left one option.

"Are you – are you Sachs-"

"YES." Somehow, Prussia had made it to his side within the fragment of a second and clamped his mouth shut before the word had had the chance to rush out entirely. Ludwig's eyes widened as he realized the mistake he'd almost committed.

Saxony quirked an eyebrow, but nodded approvingly nonetheless.

"Clever lad you raised there, Gilbert. I'm impressed."

Prussia only gave him a triumphant look that clearly insinuated as much as, Told you so.

The other rolled his eyes good-naturedly, saying, "Now get going, you two. Leave the rest here to me."

And thus Ludwig's first encounter with another one of the nations he was to represent as a whole ended quickly, with the uncanny sight of Saxony thrusting his bayonet into the unmoving body on the ground to finish the intruder off for good, without as much as blinking. The soldiers around him showed no sign of emotion, either.

Ludwig swore he felt his insides churn as he saw the trail of blood the action entailed, and he looked away as soon as he had regained enough composure to do so, following Prussia away from the scene, as well as the nation he had just met. He wasn't sure whether he would be able to bear the sight of Saxony's grinning face, clearly concealing an unscrupulous personality, any time soon again.

In the end it was Prussia's relentlessness in introducing him to the matters of war – that, or his lack of tact – that succeeded in freeing him from his moment of repulsion.

"We will soon cross the front line, Ludwig. We're currently trying to keep those villages occupied-" – he gestured vaguely over to where houses were visible in the distance-"-and it'll be our task to be at the scene."

Of course, said task had never been officially declared, but Ludwig suddenly felt useful at the prospect of it. He did not feel entirely at home here yet, sure, but he mostly blamed his uneasiness on the fact of not being used to the sight of open brutality. He would become accustomed to it soon enough, he was sure of it. He needed to.

At least, it hadn't been Prussia to kill the young soldier.

He hastily wiped the thought from his mind.

It wouldn't have mattered even if he had been the one to do it.

Killing was a fragment of war, and he had to accept it. Had to.

Even though until now, to him war had consisted of fancy uniforms, proud soldiers and cheering crowds, of effortlessly defeated enemies and shiny guns, rapiers and spruce horses and carriages.

And Prussia had always seamlessly fitted into the picture.

"What's with the look, Luddie? Cut it out, I know Saxony's a dumbass, and while he'll never be as great as me, of course, he's not that bad once you get to know him better…"

Right. Trust Prussia to always recognize a problem, but never get to the bottom of it.

Ludwig forced himself to smile. "I get that. It's…nice to meet my other, uh, brothers and sisters."

"Damn right!" Prussia was back to laughing, even as the noise of fighting around them gradually grew louder, mounted soldiers passing them more than once on their way. It didn't take long for Ludwig to lay eyes on one of the klutzy machine guns their army had brought with it, and immediately pity the soldiers detached to first position it so as to look onto the village and later operate it, responsible should anything go wrong.

It was not hard to make out the French soldiers engaging in fights with those of the opposite side, even though hand-to-hand combat wasn't as often seen anymore. While the German uniforms weren't exactly bland, either, the French ones were still much easier to spot in between the rows of houses.

"Those flashy idiots" Prussia gloated, and Ludwig silently agreed.

They came to a halt a mere 50 meters away from the village they had been approaching, and Ludwig watched the goings-on with a newfound, morbid fascination. He guessed that if neither of them was directly involved, it wasn't quite as bad, not even the unsettling background noise that came with it. The sounds of guns and screams and overall irredeemability easily faded to the back of his perception as Prussia put a hand on his shoulder, preparing to speak up.

"Before we go, I want you to have this." A bit of rummaging followed, and with that, a gun was shoved into his hand – a revolver, no rifle, as Ludwig realized with obvious relief. He wanted to thank Prussia, but then it occurred to him, in all its simplicity, that it was really quite essential that he have a weapon when going to battle.

His brother went over to explaining the mechanism to him, leaning over to guide his hands as they practiced the succession in which he had to perform the different settings, pulling back cranks and putting the piston into place, until eventually, Prussia said,

"There you go. One shot, unless you want to go through with all of this again when running the risk of being shot yourself."

Ludwig glanced at him, then back at his new weapon, solemnly observing, "So, only use it in profound jeopardy, am I right?"

"Ja, that's what I said."

"Let's go." Ludwig did not know where he took that sudden confidence from, but he certainly did not decline it.

Prussia took over the lead again, naturally, as they neared the first houses. Most window panes, had there ever been some, lay in shards, and front doors had been kicked in, laying open the dwellings for soldiers to storm in and do all the damage they liked. Ludwig even saw one dragging out the lifeless body of a woman, her dress crumpled and tattered, and quickly averted his gaze, not wanting to even ponder on the implications of it.

Looking at Prussia, his brother appeared not in the least put off by it.

And as the stingy smell of gunpowder rose to their nostrils, he instructed, "No matter what happens, stay somewhere near me, try to look serious, and use that gun of yours on a good cause."

Ludwig was about to ask what exactly Prussia implied by wording it 'good cause', but was deterred from it by the alien glimmer that had abruptly crept into his brother's eyes. It took him an agonizing moment to realize it was bloodlust.

He gulped, but when Prussia's rammed his feet into his horse's flanks, goading it to a gallop to limberly break through the last instance of soldiers separating them from the actual battlefield, Ludwig saw no other option but to imitate him. Maybe he had read too much into it, anyway.

Any coherent consideration was expunged when a bullet rebounded directly in front of him, sending mud and dust up into the air, making Ludwig cough savagely while clutching at the reins to keep his now antsy horse under control. Another gun being fired was the sound that succeeded the previous one almost immediately, bringing with it a muffled shriek and the dull thunk of a body hitting the ground. Wiping at his eyes, Ludwig finally detected Prussia again, who stared at him through the dust and swiftly commenced grinning like a madman.

Ludwig didn't see the man his brother had just killed even when he rode past the slumped form of him, probably due to the fact that he did his best to keep his eyes fixed to what lay straight ahead.

The minutes that followed all but made up for it.

Prussia fought along with his and Saxony's soldiers in a way that left Ludwig open mouthed, gaping from astride his horse and feeling for his gun in the holster in which he had carefully stashed it away, but not actually doing anything. He just watched, watched as his brother broke into houses, put up fights with daring village boys and stabbed one or two foolish French soldiers that got to near the knife he had produced from somewhere, before swinging himself back onto his horse and joining a particularly vile street fight. Barrels were rolled their way, carts were overturned, blood soon splattered across the street, but no matter what, Prussia always emerged from the turmoil with a triumphant sneer on his face.

Despite the aversion it should cause him, Ludwig could not help feeling…proud.

When Prussia turned into an alleyway, cackling almost manically, Ludwig followed suit, without hesitation this time. Their surroundings were pretty much abandoned, compared to the street they had just left, and obviously, Prussia wanted to make use of the passage only to weave his way through to the actual fights again.

From that point on, everything happened rapidly, too quickly for Ludwig to comprehend until it was over, and realization settled in, in the form of an imaginary, yet no less devastating lump in the pit of his stomach.

Prussia should have seen the way the soldier aimed at him out of narrow lane to their left, semi-hidden in the shadows, gun held steady.

He should have realized it was aimed directly at his heart, should have, could have dodged the shot, should have retaliated by shooting the soldier himself, making use of his inhuman reflexes-

-but alas, he had been grinning at Ludwig.

Had been grinning at Ludwig when the bullet hit him, slicing open his uniform jacket as if it was but thin paper. Blood soaked blue fabric as Prussia was catapulted backwards by the impact, lifeless, limbs going slack, rifle falling from his grip.

The soldier stared for a moment, then lowered his weapon and ran, apparently not expecting his victim to survive.

Ludwig screamed.

Prussia's head roughly connected with the cobblestones.

And momentarily, the world seemed to crumble to pieces.

Prussia's horse reared, taking one, two steps backwards in its panic, forelegs kicking, until, with a disgusting, crunching sound, one hoof came down on Prussia's shin.

Ironically, it was everything needed to free Ludwig from his frozen state of mind.

Prussia's horse sprang forwards, panicky, neighing almost despairingly before breaking into a rapid gallop, suddenly stricken with the kind of fear only animalistic instincts could enforce.

The first thing Ludwig did, and he did not know why, and it was not his instinct that told him to but rather his mind, was to draw his gun, checking it was clear to fire and desperately try to focus on the fleeing soldier responsible for all of this.

When he saw his retreating form at the end of the alleyway, trying to round the next corner before being spotted, he hastily pulled the trigger, trying not to think, not to hesitate. He wasn't even aware of how this was the first time he was about to fire a gun in a situation where it truly mattered.

Lacking both experience and the concentration needed, the shot was much wonkier than he had intended, and instead of mowing down its supposed aim, all it did was splinter an abandoned window, the shards raining down onto the street. Nonetheless, Ludwig's arm was flung back by the recoil.

He hissed in disappointment when the Frenchman disappeared from sight.

The burst of adrenaline he had acted on evaporated.

And then, it all came back to him.

Prussia.

"Oh Gott, Gilbert!"

He had planned to dismount his horse as quickly and gracefully as possible, efficiently, but instead, his foot got caught in the stirrup, and he stumbled, almost toppling over. Panic was rushing through him, and it took long, too long, for the precaution of checking the street for the possible presence of an enemy to cross his mind. When it did, he yanked up his head, eyes widening with anxiety. Luckily, there were only Prussians around from what he could see, some of which were sending him looks of sympathy from the main street, but most simply staring in another direction, readily accepting the obvious death of another one of their own.

The width of the alley seemed to stretch into eternity, and when he finally reached the motionless body that was his brother, Ludwig felt a distinct itching at the back of his throat, a quiver spreading through his body, the first hints of the first sobs threatening to tear his countenance in two.

When he slumped down next to Prussia, knees roughly thudding on stone, he knew there was no sense in trying to hold back.

He was young.

He was weak.

And he wept.

The words that eventually tumbled out in between bitten back sobs were probably understandable for him only, violently blurred as they were.

"Bruder! Say something, just- Gilbert, Gilbert come on, don't-! Don't-"

Don't die.

He didn't even want to think of it.

With shaky hands, he attempted to roll Prussia over onto his back, hastily trying to feel for a pulse, ignoring the dark patch spreading on the elder's coat. He had been explained the procedure of this once, there had to be a possibility-

"Ludwig?"

For the fragment of a moment, he almost forgot how to breathe.

"G-Gilbert…? You're…you-"

A breathy chuckle he only caught as he was straining to hear was released into the air between them.

"Not dead? Nah, not quite."

Contradicting his words, Prussia's eyes were nearly closed, a deep cut now marring his left cheek. Ludwig wasn't sure in the least whether he was actually able to make out anything or if his world had already faded to black. It was a simple, yet frightening thought as that that had him breaking down again, crying against the fabric of Prussia's uniform.

He had never truly cried before. Not often, never like this.

But now, sucking in the unsettling smell of blood, dirt, suffering, everything proved to be too much for him to handle. Prussia was hurt, and in one way or another, it was his fault.

"I don't want you to-to-"

"Shhh. Ludwig, Kaiserreich, I w-won't…I won't die."

Prussia's sharp intake of breath should not have caused the savage cough it did, forcing him into a more upright position, in which he remained, hunched over the cobbles, retching and gasping for air.

"Oh, verdammt…"

Ludwig winced, but rushed to his brother's side as his sense of responsibility told him to do, while Prussia proceeded to cough up blood, the specks of it soon littering the ground. His eyes went blurry before focusing again, and he lifted a shaky hand, patting across the front of his uniform until he found the spot the bullet had penetrated.

To Ludwig's absolute horror, the next thing he did was nonchalantly sticking a finger in.

Prussia flinched is discomfort as he commenced to widen the wound, in obvious search for something, but maintained a surprising amount of control throughout the procedure.

Moments later, his finger immerged again with a repulsive, slick little noise, taking the smeared bullet with it. Ludwig nearly whimpered at the vileness of it all.

Prussia picked up the small object with an unsteady hand, pinching it between thumb and index finger and holding it up for the younger to see, demonstrating what he was about to refer to.

"Always such a hassle when these little bastards end up ingrown" he said in a tiny, raspy voice, forcing a grin onto his face. A trickle of blood ran down his chin from the right corner of his mouth.

Ludwig blinked disgustedly, comforted nonetheless by the display of casualness his brother was putting on. It did not last long, though.

Another coughing fit took hold of Prussia, and this time, it ended in him not hunching forwards, but falling backwards, slamming down onto the ground. He lay there, breathing unevenly, hands convulsing, and Ludwig suddenly remembered the bullet had not been the only cause of his brother's pain.

"Gilbert, I'm going to try to- Bruder?" He attempted to get his brother to look at him, but as he bent forward to search for the other's gaze, all he saw were half-closed eyelids that appeared to hold no vestige of life beneath them, hadn't it been for their restive flutter.

Panicking, Ludwig realized his brother must have fallen unconscious again.

Before he got to tend to any of the other injuries, the fresh gush of blood seeping from the gunshot wound kept him from even looking at the probably smashed shin Prussia also had to be sporting. Fresh tears began to prick at the corners of Ludwig's eyes, and slowly, it sunk in that he did not know what to do.

Trying to quell the bloodstream, but how, how-

He glanced around, though hazy eyes, in the diminutive hope of one of the soldiers being able to help them, but the front had already shifted again, and they had been left behind. Ludwig felt despondency welling up, and all he could do was clutch at Prussia's uniform, trying to adjust it so as to serve as a makeshift bandage, covering the wound.

When it didn't work, Ludwig's thoughts met a dead end. Color proceeded to fade from Prussia's face, and he looked so pale, paler than ever and-

It was hopeless.

Ludwig could do nothing, nothing but squeeze his eyes shut, sniveling.

He didn't hear the nearing footsteps, and neither did he catch the soft sound of a man clearing his throat and stopping in his tracks behind him. When Ludwig pivoted, it was on instinct rather than a conscious realization.

Equally blue eyes met his, and for an unbearably long moment of shock, time seemed to slow down, before speeding up again and turning the dull state of his senses into one of immediate alert.

The next thing Ludwig knew after he had leapt to his feet was that he had the muzzle of his gun pressed to the blond Frenchman's temple in a matter of seconds.

TBC

Translations:

Bruderherz - term of endearment for 'brother', old-fashioned and used ironically here
Sachsen - Saxony

Historical Notes:

From the very beginning on, the undertaking of encircling the French near Sedan was a matter of luck, as it was not clear until mere days before the actual battle whether they were actually heading for Metz, and not for Paris. Had the latter been the case, the outcome of the war itself might have been entirely different.

In the end, however, all worked out for the Germans, and they were able to defeat the (resting and exhausted) French army first at Beaumont, the battle after which they withdrew to Sedan – the Germans, organized by Helmuth von Moltke, followed them, and managed to encircle them within the next day.

The Battle of Bazeilles was fought on September 1 (as part of the Battle of Sedan), and was an ambush of German (mostly Bavarian) troops taking place in the village of Bazeilles. Resulted in some bloody scenes and almost the whole village being destroyed - the Bavarians succeeded in the end (thanks to not exactly fighting fair; making use of arson etc.), but both sides suffered major casualties.

Something random – needle-fired guns were the weapons that made the Prussians quite as superior in 1866, fighting against Austria. A few years later, the version of it used by them had already become obsolete, outshone by the newly developed French one, but was still deployed in the war of 1870. No idea if it was ever used in combination with a bayonet, but let's just pretend so.

Spiked helmets were probably one of the more ridiculous uniform elements of the 19th and early 20th century, but I can't help thinking that Gilbert could have made them look sexy. ;D