WOOT! Finally, our error troubles seem to be over! :D

Sorry this took a while to get out-I've been enticed by Dragon Age 2... . CURSE YOU ANDERS AND YOUR AWESOMENESS!

That, and I've hit a bit of a depression. Some real crap stuff has been going on in my life lately and it's making it a bit difficult to focus on writing... ;_;

So... partly because of that, not much to say today. Hope you like it?

A lot of people these days spoke of the Holy Roman Empire as though he were close to being some kind of god. Romano usually scoffed at them. The Holy Roman Empire, back in the time when Romano had known him well, had never been anything to make a fuss over. Of course, back then they'd all been little more than babies so perhaps it was an unfair conclusion, but he didn't think the brat had gotten any better over time. The brief glimpses he got when Spain would bring him over for a visit showed him a short, blundering child who harped about his own greatness and trailed along in Feli's wake all day, his face perpetually scarlet. He'd come to think of the Empire as childish, taciturn, selfish and naïve—an evaluation that only seemed to be bolstered by that jerk's later treatment of his fratellino.

He would have a very hard time reconciling that idea of a person with the one who finally opened his carriage door and let the cold, winter air in a week or so after he'd left the house in Vienna.

"Römische Italien!" the Austrian soldier crowed, smiling, one hand held out to help Romano down the coach's tiny steps. The outside light was a sharp contrast to the heavily curtained interior he'd been sitting in for days, and glinting off of that unsightly hair it was enough to momentarily blind him. "Or, perhaps I should say Italia Romana? I never know what language I should be speaking these days." Before Romano could regain his bearings he was unceremoniously grabbed, and lowered to the solid earth. He didn't have enough wit left in him to protest. "In any case, it is good to see you, Romano," and he'd scarcely opened his mouth to rain insults down on this unknown assailant before he was swept again off of his feet into a rib-cracking hug.

"Let go of me! What…?" He flailed, voice muffled by the rough, military-issue cotton of the stranger's shirt.

"Oh, sorry," The young teen in slightly ragged uniform had the savior-faire to look abashed. He put Romano down with hands that felt far too steady and strong to be normal. Roma squinted and tried to figure out who the heck he was dealing with here. He felt instinctually that this had to be some other nation but he didn't know who. His new escort was a bit younger than Romano had first gathered—the shadows beneath his eyes and the starkness of his uniform had conspired to make him look more adult. But now that his sight had adjusted to the glare, Romano guessed that the stranger was probably somewhere around his or Feli's age in appearance, no older than 14 and no younger than 12. What was really astonishing was his height. He towered over Romano by a good foot, with all the indications that he was nowhere near finished growing. His appearance was rounded off by a pair of slightly ridiculous side burns and piercing, blue eyes. If Romano didn't know any better than he might think he was facing…

"Ho-Holy Roman…?" He trailed off, eyes wide. The nation he'd been examining only guffawed.

"Have I changed that much? Really?" His eyes were warm and teasing, if a little tired, and he clasped Romano warmly on the shoulder. "And here I was thinking that you haven't changed a bit." The Italian sniffed at that, and turned away, somehow affronted. "Come on Roma, you can't be mad at me already. We have a lot to talk about, you know." The thought was sobering. Romano forgot his indignation, his eyes hardening to cool, unbending brass.

"Yes," he growled, thinking of poor Feliciano and of his own longing for Spain, "we do." His glare must have been something formidable indeed if it could have the Holy Roman Empire balking so easily.

"Jesus, Ludwig, what'd you do to that kid?" Someone spoke up from nearby. Romano hadn't noticed before due to his temporary bewilderment, but there were other soldiers, real humans this time, milling about the carriage. They were performing a number of chores; unloading cargo, speaking quietly in Italian to the footman…The man talking now was apparently in charge of un-hitching his coach horses. "He sounds madder than a hornet."

"Ah, I'm not really sure, sir." The term of respect had Romano doing a double-take. Nations played a military role in their country often enough, but mostly superficially and mostly as commanders. They'd never been one hundred percent sure how damage taken in battle affected their people, so as a rule no one was suicidal (or maybe just stupid) enough to pose as a regular soldier unless there were very pressing circumstances. But the lack of any decoration on the Empire's uniform was telling enough.

"Oh Dio mio what—a footsoldier? You can't be serious!" Holy Roman Empire blushed and suddenly he looked much more like the kid Lovino remembered.

"Hey, don't you be knocking our Ludwig, here!" The human soldier who'd spoken earlier had apparently overheard, and misunderstood the reason for Romano's disbelief. "He's a damn good fighter and a genius on his feet. If it weren't for his age, they'd have promoted him over me already, easy!" He finished what he was doing to the tack, passed the job on to a bystander with a single word in a language Romano couldn't identify, and walked toward them to ruffle the Empire's hair. "O'course, I can't say I'm not glad they haven't. Who would I tease if you was my superior, eh, Luddy?" and he grappled the great Holy Roman Empire into a headlock, the two of them tousling like overlarge puppies. Romano couldn't do much more than stare on in shock. "Ah, just as well. Did you want to borrow my tent for a bit to talk to your friend, Ludwig? We've got time enough before we see those Turk bastards again, I'll wager." The empire nodded, his face still flaming red, before grabbing Romano's coat sleeve and dragging him toward what he supposed must be some kind of military camp. If he'd expected a quiet visit with a fellow country in someone's meeting house or music hall as would have been usual, then he was going to be sadly disappointed.

"What on earth do you think you're—and does Austria know about…? And, and…." He sputtered as they marched quickly along. His mind was racing four times faster than his mouth. Usually when this happened, Antonio would laugh him into silence, but there was no Spain to stop him now. He kept spitting out half-sentences until his thoughts and his memories finally connected and he realized there'd been something odd about the last conversation. "Wait… was that guy calling you 'Ludwig'?" The Empire's blush, which had been retreating, came back in full force.

"It's my human name. I'm not an Empire here." Romano couldn't help it. He had to act as old as he looked every once in a while too.

"That's an odd name," he chortled, jeering. The Holy Roman Empire ruffed up like a bird about to fight.

"It is not!" He whined, his face petulant and sulky. "My people gave it to me!" Lovino thought then that his initial confusion must have been off the mark, because this was exactly the kind of person he'd been expecting to see today. Except in only a few moments, just as quickly as it had come, that expression was gone. The Empire was laughing too hard to keep it. Full, belly aching laughs that soon had him doubling over. "Oh," he cried out once he'd mastered his voice again. Romano was content to stand as far away as possible with the nation still holding his wrist. He hoped whatever this was wasn't contagious. "Oh Romano, I had forgotten what it felt like to be so childish. Forgive me. It really is wonderful to see you again." And the dazzling, sad smile Ludwig graced him with threw him completely off balance.

"Ist alles in Ordnung, Ludwig?" A man nearby saw them and asked, looking concerned. Romano didn't speak any German, but all the same, he wasn't sure if he was comfortable with the way the soldiers were glaring him down, hovering about the Empire like his goddamned body guards. Even without knowing who he was, they gravitated around him naturally.

"Ja, es ist in Ordnung. Danke." At Ludwig's word, they all turned away. "Come on, we can talk more easily if we make it to the tent. Try not to tease me too strongly till then, alright?" It was said with a kind of easy camaraderie that Romano would never have expected from someone who had once been so confrontational. He decided to shut up, and allowed himself to be led.

As they traipsed through the camp toward their destination, Romano felt more and more like he'd fallen into some kind of twisted dream world. Everywhere he looked, there were soldiers—men marching in parade lines, training, goofing off. Some of them didn't look any older than "Ludwig," others seemed too old to lift even a bayonet. Still, they all looked hardened, determined. These men had obviously already seen battle at least once. Some even went about with bandages still wrapped around fresh wounds, the faint hint of red seeping through white linen to tell its own tale. Not even the Holy Roman Empire had gone untested; when Romano stared hard at his escort's back, he could just see the edge of white, peering out from the neckline of his uniform shirt.

He frowned, fists clenching. If the idiot Empire had allowed himself to be hurt, what happened to the people who lived within? Did he know? Did he even care? Not for the first time that day, he wondered just what the hell Austria was thinking, sending him to the front-line of the war. Why risk it? And it certainly didn't make any sense that he was allowing the Holy Roman Empire to stay here as a regular infantryman.

"What the hell are you doing in a place like this, Ludwig?" he growled, no longer able to contain his confusion as they passed what appeared to be the medical tent. His words could have been lost amidst the hellish sounds of the men there slowly dying, but he watched the Empire's shoulders tense up all the same. He got a glimpse of hard, blue eyes, the hand on his wrist yanking him forward and making him trip.

"Wait until we reach the sergeant's tent, alright?" That voice was pure, cold steel. Romano felt as if his blood had turned to ice in his veins just to hear it. He shivered and spoke no more.

They crested one final hill, and Romano was able to see the entire camp spread sprawling behind and before him; a tiny sea of tents with ant-like men scampering all around them from behind the clouds of his frosting breath. "Almost there," the Empire called, switching mercurially back to his good humor. Still, there was a sour note in the air now that hadn't been there before, and the blonde's smile didn't reach his eyes. Romano found himself stupidly wondering if Ludwig shouldn't take lessons from his little brother on how to wear a mask; the Empire could use the practice.

"Ah, here we are!" his host finally called, and they ducked into a tent just a little larger than those around it. Inside, it was warm and comfortable enough, he supposed. Not at all what he was used to when it came to political meetings, but since he was mostly just planning on tearing the Holy Roman Empire a new one, he figured it would do just fine. "You can sit if you like," he drawled, gesturing to the too-thin pile of down and cushioning that must have been serving as this small-time officer's bed.

"No thank you," Romano didn't miss a beat in answering. Ludwig was tall enough when they were both standing, and it was intimidating. If he sat down, he'd feel like a complete girl. He'd lose his nerve. Maybe that's what the Empire was counting on? Or maybe Romano was just getting paranoid. He shook his head to rid himself of the wandering thoughts, and tried to return to the issue at hand. "Did Austria make me come out here for a reason, or are you going to keep playing pretend host?" There was a pregnant silence for what felt like forever. Those mad, dead eyes stared him down in the shadows and he began to feel like he'd angered some kind of black god. He had just started to stammer his apology when Ludwig finally blinked, and bent his mighty will. He seemed to collapse in on himself with a hiss of air, dropping like a sack of flour onto the make-shift bed. Here in the dark of the tent, Romano could suddenly see the sleepless, bruised eyes and sallow cheeks, more minor wounds that had not been so clear in the bright, grey sunlight. Every part of the Holy Roman Empire looked utterly exhausted in that moment and he began to see why Austria had seemed so worried about his wayward "son."

He was far too put out to care. Anyone who could hurt Feli like that didn't deserve sympathy.

"Eager to leave me, are you Romano?" The words were meant to be teasing, but they were just so bone-weary that it almost made Lovino feel guilty. There was the soft rustle of pillows, a sharp, short bark of laughter. "Don't answer that. I probably know well enough what you think of me. That is not why I asked Austria to send you here." So why did you? Romano nearly screamed in frustration. He didn't want to be here any longer. He didn't want to drag this out, and give Feliciano more and more time to dwell in bitter jealousy. "Did his musical highness tell you anything before you left?" He nearly choked in shock to hear such a joke fall so easily from his fellow nation's lips; surely if Roderich ever heard the name he'd have the Empire sufficiently castigated. He didn't condone that kind of disrespect in his house. Although… The Holy Roman Empire wasn't exactly part of his house any longer, was he?

Then again, maybe punishment for insolence was part of the reason there was currently a legendary empire hiding out here among the foot soldiers of Austria's front-line defense...? No, something told him that wasn't the case. Romano frowned. The blond before him was a mess of weariness and strength and contradiction, not at all the petulant child he'd expected. He didn't know what to do in the face of all of this. "Romano? Did you hear me?"

"All he told me was that you wanted to discuss requisitioning of my land." He did his best to glare the Empire into submission. Ludwig didn't seem to notice at all.

"Ah, yes. Austria thinks it would be best to hand Siciliy to me…"

"And you don't?" Romano snorted, full of an indignant, slow-burning frustration that had nothing to do with Feli or Spain or any of it. Maybe deep down, he was really just tired of everyone pulling him this way and that like a mule to be led. Blue eyes pierced him again, freezing, smoldering… he let the frustration bleed out and looked away.

"Do you think there is any chance that Spain would hurt Italien in his haste to get Sicily back?" and that simple question managed to bring back all his old, half-forgotten jealousies. The answer poured out of him faster than he could stop it.

"As if! That Bastard likes 'cute little Feli' far too much to do anything rash. Not even—" Not even for me. The words hung unsaid in the cool air of the tent. Romano had slapped a hand to his own mouth and bit his palm to silence them. They hurt all the same. His hatred for the Holy Roman Empire grew deeper as old wounds re-opened. No. no. Believing that Spain would come for him was, some days, the only thing keeping him going. If he let himself remember Antonio's regard for Feliciano… Somewhere in his heart the seed of doubt began to take root. Romano was too weak and angry to tear it out again.

"That's exactly what I thought." The Empire's voice was not smug, despite his self-assured words. "And so you may tell Austria: I still maintain that we keep Sicily with Savoy." Silence. Romano listened to nothing save the sound of his own teeth grinding for a few moments before he finally lost it.

"…that's it?" He groused, his shoulders nearly shaking with fury. "You're telling me you dragged me all the way out here, against my wishes, and possibly made my little brother hate me, just to confirm something you already knew?"

"No," Ludwig answered, easy and calm. Perhaps the skin around his eyes had tightened, just the slightest bit, at the mention of Feli. Perhaps Romano was simply imagining it. His blue eyes watched the Italian through a veil of patronizing amusement. "Not really." He didn't continue. Lovino waited patiently for five anger-ragged breaths before continuing.

"Then why the hell did you bring me here?"

"Maybe it was because Austria somehow convinced himself that I would change my mind? If you'll remember, he was the one who pushed this meeting on both of us." The Empire matched Romano's ire with a bitter smile that only served to make his wrath boil hotter. He opened his mouth to shout his frustration, but Ludwig's sudden, sharp laugh, grating and pain-filled, cut him off. "Ah, that's not true. I suppose I could have stopped him if I really wanted." He was still sitting slumped amongst the folds of the cot, face half-covered with his hands. His soul-less eyes glittered out at Romano from the shadow of his bandage-wrapped fingers. "The truth is," he began, and did his voice almost border on timid? "I let Austria drag you here because I wanted… I needed to speak with you. Though now that you've finally come, the words seem too hard to say." Even sprawled and exhausted on that mean cot as he was, there was an air about the Holy Roman Empire that made him seem formidable, frightening and as immovable as stone. But it was the crack in his voice and the near-imperceptible shaking of his hands that allowed Romano to finally say the words that had been itching at him this whole time.

"Too hard to say…? Pezzo di cazzo, bastardo, cretino..." Lovino flew into a fury of forbidden words, letting himself curse wildly for a few more seconds until he felt a little of the heavy weight lift from his heaving chest.

"And I had thought you were supposed to be a good Catholic nation, Romano." The Empire was teasing half-heartedly, but Romano's blood was rushing too hotly in his ears for him to notice.

"Stai Zitto!" he spat, "You forced me out to a battlefield in the middle of nowhere to tell me words that you can't bear to say, so why don't you do me a favor and let me talk instead." The Empire sighed long-sufferingly.

"Romano, please. It's not for no reason. I—"

"Shut up!" He commanded again, all the frustrations of his last three years waiting in the tear-filled dark were spilling out of him. "I've got my reasons too! I didn't have to come. I could have put Austria off just as easily." A complete lie, and the Empire knew it, but Romano really didn't care. "I came because of Feliciano, because of my fratellino, because I can't stand to keep watching him cry himself to sleep every night over a complete bastard like you!" His chest heaved for breath. The Empire said nothing. Romano chanced a glance at him and was surprised to note the genuine shock on that ancient, childish face.

"Italien is… what?" He looked suddenly tiny and pitiful, crumpled on the officer's cot. Romano began to notice that his uniform fit him a little loosely. Did it seem to swallow him?

"Or how did you think he feels? All this endless waiting for you to return—for more than a century! Wishing that the person he loves more than anyone, though only God knows why, would simply deign to see him?" Romano had to swallow to keep his own tears from spilling. Stupid to talk about this when Spain was lodged so painfully in the forefront of his mind, but it had to be said. "How do you think it feels to love someone more than anything, and to know that they hate you?"

"I could never hate him!" The Holy Roman Empire practically roared, jumping to his feet with renewed vigor. Not five minutes earlier the sight might have been enough to stun Romano into silence. Right now he was too far into his rant to stop.

"Well, you have a very funny way of showing it! You'd rather give Austria control over your every decision than go anywhere near Feliciano, so what, exactly, is he supposed to think?" Ludwig glared down at him, his mouth opening and closing like that of a dying fish.

"That's not… I never did that because I hated him. I—"

"No? Then perhaps it was for one of the many other reasons Feliciano has sobbed out when he thinks I can't hear. Because he's useless and distracting? Because he's clumsy? Oh, how about because you found out he's a boy and you're disgusted that you ever kissed him? That's a personal favorite of m—"

"It was never because of Feli at all!" The Empire had somehow gotten closer while Lovino had been mid-rant. Now the brunet was left blinking and nearly deafened in the wake of Ludwig's sudden combustion. "I never cared about any of that! I loved his distractions, I found his mistakes cute, and maybe I was a little caught off-guard when I found out he was a boy," the Empire trailed off for a moment, his face going red. Romano scoffed and parted his lips to start again, but he'd barely gotten a breath in edgewise before his opponent recovered. "But I quickly got over it! I didn't fall in love with Feliciano because he was a girl. I fell in love with him because he's kind, and gentle, and so full of life that everyone around him can't help but smile. Because he likes to paint, because he's so picky about his food, and because he somehow makes friends with everything he touches. I fell in love with him because he's everything that I could never be." The Empire was smiling fondly, tragically now even as he panted with the exertion of his vehemence. His dead eyes had come to life with memories, glistening with barely-restrained tears. It was obvious, even to Romano, that he really did love Feliciano.

"I didn't decide to hide myself away because I hated him. It's me that I have come to hate." He shook his weary head, staring blankly at his hands. The look on his face now… Romano had seen it before. But where? "Bloody and scarred as I am, for all the lives that I've ruined…After the battle-lust wore off I knew I could never face him again. I didn't deserve to. I…. What if I hurt him somehow? What if…. What if he saw the truth of me and decided he hated me too?" The bandages on those trembling fingers were white, but Ludvig's face was dispassionately self-disgusted. As if he could see the red still dripping from them. It was, indeed, a look that Romano had seen before.

Lovi, mi cariño, how can you still bear to look at me? Bathed in blood as I am?

He hissed through his teeth at the memory; Antonio standing sea-tossed and war-weary in the rain at his door step so long ago, victorious and ruthless and begging him still for forgiveness. Spain, he thought frantically, and for a moment, the longing overtook his whole being. It blinded him, deafened him. His very soul ached with it. Is this what you and I could have become? He blinked and breathed until the world started moving again, and his eyes could see more than flashes of sunshine on the waves of the Mediterranean.

"You are a coward and a fool." He rasped, his voice soft and slow. The Empire did not contest his declaration. "Feliciano would love you no matter your deeds. He would cut out his own heart if he thought it could help you. He waited every day for you for more than a hundred years. And yet you still prefer to hide in the midst of whatever battle you can find!" Romano was shouting by the end, his fists clenched to the point of pain at his sides. "You are an idiot!"

"I know," The Empire choked in answer, "I know that."

"Then do something about it!" He wasn't sure if he was commanding or pleading. "Stop hiding away from him. Show him your face just once. Mio dio, he'd be happy if you would just write him a letter!" He was nearly shaking with the force of his anger. The Holy Roman Empire did nothing but wait for him to finish with big, pain-filled eyes.

"It's too late for that, Romano. I realize now that what I thought was wrong… but I'm no good for him. It's better if he never sees me again." The Italian felt ready to scream with frustration.

"Don't you think I'd be the first person to suggest that?" he bellowed, and in all honesty he agreed. "I would kill you myself if I could, but stupid Feli loves you more than anything. And I just… I just want—" His voice caught. Romano had to stop until all the tears were swallowed away once again. "I don't want to ever hear him sobbing again, or see him hurting even as he tells me everything is fine. And as much as I hate you with everything that I am, I know that you're the only one who can fix it." Silence. There was a light pitter-patter against the outside fabric of the tent. Perhaps it had begun to snow? They sat and glared at each other in the dim light until Ludwig caught his breath enough to start over.

"He loves me still?"

"Yes," Romano gritted out, "though only God knows why." The Empire sighed, his mouth twisted into a painful half-smile. It wasn't an expression at all close to relieved.

"I had hoped that maybe he hadgrown to resent me by now. At least that way, it wouldn't hurt him to know that I…."

"Who are you to talk about hurting him and keeping him safe anyway? In your stupid shame you've hurt him worse than anyone else ever could! You should spend less time asking about Spain and more time—"

"I'm dying, Romano." He didn't shout. He didn't have to. Those quiet, unassuming words put a halt to the brunette's rant immediately for their sheer incomprehensibility alone.

"You….what?"

"That's why I had Austria drag you here. Those are the words that I didn't really want to say. I'm dying. Slowly. I can feel it like poison in my veins." The words themselves were so dramatic. Romano wondered why they sounded so dispassionate and far away. "And you are the only other soul who knows." The Empire finished with a much less twisted smile.

Romano pinched his own arm, winced, and stared at the reddened skin.

He didn't wake up.

"You're lying," he sputtered once he'd finally mustered enough brain cells to start talking again. "You… you still hold more than half of Europe, easily! You can't be…"

"All empires fall, and they don't do it swiftly. They decay from within over time, growing weaker and weaker until some kind of disaster finally pushes them over the edge. I'm no different from the rest." The blonde spoke as casually as if they were simply discussing the weather.

"So what! So then your empire will be gone in a couple hundred years, so that's no reason to say something like…something so melodramatic!" Ludwig scoffed jadedly, and shook his head.

"You don't understand. I don't have an empire. I'm not like Spain or England or the others. An Empire is all that I am. I don't have my own land, or my own people, I have the people and the land of many others. The day that nations like Austria and Prussia and Savoy decide to leave my dominion is the day I cease to exist. And if the ache in my bones and the itch in my blood are any indication, that day is not so far off as you want to believe." He turned as he spoke, and with the last word, collapsed back to his former place on the military cot.

"That's… but…"

"So here is my thinking, Romano." The Empire drawled, and his voice was toneless and languid. "What would be the best for your brother? In my cowardice, he has lost me already once. Is it better to keep away, let him wonder and wait and maybe grow to hate me, or to return now, and let him watch as I waste away?" Romano's heart ached with sympathy, for his brother and even for this foolish, failing Empire. He wondered what he would do in Ludwig's place and found he did not know. But as it was… as Feli's brother….

"I see him reeling from the first loss even now. Even when you have been gone a century he still cries… I would not see him go through such a thing twice."

"I thought as much." The Empire nodded. Though he sat in a crumpled heap on a mess of blankets, he had a hardness of will that made him seem stately and strong. "Now that we understand each other we have only to decide what to do about it." Romano bit his tongue, sat down next to the empire he maybe, maybe, might have grown to respect, and proceeded to do just that.

edit: so the first time I posted this I forgot to add translations... -_-

I'll leave out most curse words-they're pretty obvious. Please beware that the only languages in this story I actually speak are English and Spanish. and even then, I often make mistakes. so if you find a problem with what translation I've come up with, corrections are greatly encouraged!

Fratellino- little brother (Italian).

Römische Italien- Roman Italy (German)

Italia Romana- Roman Italy (Latin)

Ist alles in Ordnung, Ludwig? -Is everything okay, Ludwig?(German)

Ja, es ist in Ordnung. Danke.- Yes, It's fine. Thanks. (German)

Stai Zitto- Shut up! (Italian)

mi cariño- My little dear one. (Spanish)