In the series, Ludwig is not known to have a surname, but I've given him the title "Beilshmidt" in this story just to show his relation when his brothers appear.
As the soldiers and the young man turned to leave, Alfred was shoved harshly into the centre of the room; his wounded leg buckling underneath him as he inadvertently landed on it.
"Ach, it is like a kinder trying to walk for the first time." The blond man growled from the desk at the other end of the room. He did not even look up from his array of documents as he scanned the contents closely. Alfred unsteadily rose to his feet – trying hard not to disturb the scowling man from his reading. He stood stock-still and shifted his weight quietly from one foot to the other on occasion; the only pervasive sound being that of the incessant ticking clock on the grand marble mantelpiece.
"Is it painful?" He growled again, still not looking up from his paperwork.
"Y-yes."
"Speak louder."
"I said yes."
The blond finally abandoned his paperwork and rose from his domineering oak seat. He walked over to Alfred, grabbing an iron poker on his way, and stood in front of him. Alfred did not want to stare into those cruel, ice blue eyes any longer, so he tilted his head downwards.
"Chin up."
It was then that Alfred realised how tall this man was – he stood at least 3 inches higher than him, which was no mean feat considering Alfred was pretty big himself.
"A very nice blue, America."
What? Another one that knows I'm America? As we all know, countries can only see other countries – any human that sees us just writes us off as average soldiers or civilians.
Before Alfred could even open his mouth to ask, the man confirmed his suspicions.
"I did not introduce myself. I am Ludwig Beilshmidt, the head of Germany."