(A/N) Drake here, back with another chapter of Wilted Daisies! This is sort of off subject, but was anyone else here reading the Hetalia Valentine's scans on LJ during Chocolate Day? I SURE AS HELL WAS. Look on page 6 of the comments and you'll find me (lady_drake_chan).
And sorry for lack of better chapter title D:
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Chapter Two
Colchicum (My best days fled)
Germany marched down the hallways, the clatters and tin ringing noises becoming louder as he reached the kitchen door. He felt – no, he KNEW he didn't want to do this, it was always too troublesome… but, regardless, he opened the doors and walked into the kitchen.
It was a huge, complete and total mess. Pots, pans, lids and cooking utensils were scattered across the tiled floor, a bit of food splattered on the walls, and a knife was hanging from the ceiling. The cooks, waiters and chore boys were crowded between two counters, witnesses to a fight. One of the younger cooks was on the ground, his lip bruised and bleeding and his hair in his face. Three older chefs were holding his opponent back, whom was almost completely unscathed, save a few scratches in his sleeves. His hair was silver in color, cropped short and spiking out slightly. His eyes were red – not in the sense as being bloodshot, or that he was crying, but that his irises were naturally a bloody crimson. He was smirking, a laugh escaping his lips between breaths.
He was Ludwig's older brother, Gilbert. Better known as Prussia, or 'East'.
Germany sighed, annoyed. "Why is everyone off task?" He demanded in a stern tone. "Get back to work! All of you who engaged in the fight will remain here until proper punishment is decided. And someone get a mop in this place!" He pointed to Prussia. "You, come with me. We need to talk. In my office."
Prussia turned his head to Ludwig and grinned – Not in a friendly Italy way, but more of a hell-yes-this-is-perfect-timing-according-to-plan-insert-evil-laugh-here Prussia way – shoving the cooks off his back and walking towards his little brother with open arms.
"Weeell, if it isn't West," – His nickname for Germany – "My little brother!" He put an arm around Ludwig's shoulders and smirked at the boy on the floor again. "Just like I said."
The boy stood from the floor, clenching his fists. "Y-You-! I aught to-!"
"Benno, behave yourself!" One cook hit the boy's head with a ladle.
Gilbert laughed. "Better listen to your master, little bear*."
Germany sighed, moving Prussia's arm off his shoulders. "East. Office. Now."
"Whatever you say, West." Prussia shrugged his shoulders and followed his brother out the kitchen doors.
000ooo000
In Germany's office, Ludwig sat behind his desk filing papers for the kitchen incident while Gilbert lounged on the couch, rambling on and on about miscellaneous things (Germany had given up on getting him to explain what happened in the kitchen – You can't force these things on Prussia. Nor can you get the truth %50 of the time.). Thank god that he had been around Prussia long enough to drown his voice out of his mind. He grabbed a nearby pen to sign forms when Prussia was talking about Hungary.
"Seriously, what's that woman's problem?" He asked aloud, knowing Germany wasn't paying any real attention. "It's like, whenever she sees me, the first thing that comes to her mind is 'Hey Prussia! Have you seen my new frying pan? I'm not stingy, so I'll give you a close-up!' Jeeze, I liked her better as a boy..."
Once again, bringing up his childhood. Ludwig only shook his head and continued signing papers.
Gilbert grinned, chuckling to himself. "Boy, it was such a blast beating up that sissy aristocrat in those days. Switzerland was a pain though." He shrugged. "Some things never change, I guess. Like how I've never stopped being so awesome!" He punched (An invisible Austria) air with his fist and laughed triumphantly. "Yeah! Go me! Always lookin' out for number one in the world!"
"You're so full of yourself…" Germany mumbled under his breath.
Prussia sat up on the couch, looking at his younger brother in disbelief. "Oh, what's this?! Did my ears deceive me, or was West actually listening to me?!" He sniffed and rubbed his eyes, laying the sarcasm and drama on very thickly. "That's so heart warming, I think I'm gonna cry…"
"Like I said. Full of yourself." Germany never took his eyes off his papers.
The Prussian pouted. "You're no fun, West." He reclined on the couch again, crossing one bent leg over the other and folding his arms across his chest. "Why do you always have to be such a stick-in-the-mud?"
"Someone has to get things done." Ludwig replied flatly.
"Meh…" Gilbert groaned, shifting so his back was to the stuffy German. "You were cuter when you were younger…"
Germany paused, briefly but surely.
He shook off the thought, only to have it latch onto his mind again. After all, he couldn't afford to dwadle in his past if he wanted to remain a strong country.
… Even so, Prussia hardly ever brought up his history, and when he did, it was a short "you were better like that" or "you did things like this", then return to whatever he was doing before. This wouldn't bother him so much if 1. Prussia would finish what he was saying for once, and 2. He could remember farther back than his teenaged years…
'But,' He always concluded, 'If it was so important or beneficial to remember those times, I wouldn't have difficulty doing so. So I won't waste energy doing so.'
The papers now had the necessary information filled in, arranged in a neat stack. He glanced over at the clock, the time showed 2:47. Then he remembered Feliciano was still waiting for him.
"Brother," He cleared his throat, "I have to report back to Italy now that the paperwork is done, so please leave my office."
Prussia glanced over his shoulder and beamed – dark intentions glinting in his eyes. "Oh, Ita-Chan's here? What's the occasion?"
"I honestly don't know." Ludwig sighed. "Sometimes he just arrives unannounced." Most of those times he was taking a shower, but best not to tell Prussia that detail.
Gilbert's grin widened. "Maybe I could-"
"No. Go back to the east wing. I won't have you interfering with my business with my allies."
The silver-haired Prussian frowned, but jumped up from the couch. "Whatever you say, West. But I really, really wanna see Ita-Chan too…" He whined.
"You're a few centuries too late to try that one, East." Germany led them out from the office, holding the door for his older sibling.
"Oh well," Gilbert sighed, walking down the hallway. "If he comes as often as you say he does, I'll get my chance."
'I have to keep Italy away from that man.' Ludwig sighed in his mind. But that isn't the matter at hand. He needs to go back to - And most likely search for, find and scold - the said Italian, see what he wants, and continue with his day.
But, by some stroke of luck, Italy was waiting right where he left him, swinging his legs back and forth on the chair, humming to himself. Upon the German's entry, his eyes lit up and he hopped off the chair, locking his arms around his waist. "Germany! Germany! Ne, you were gone a long time~!"
He pet the shorter brunet on the head, careful not to touch the extra-sensitive hair curl - He wasn't sure what it did exactly, besides make Italy faint, twitch and froth at the mouth slightly. "I apologize. I had to file some papers regarding the accident in the kitchen."
Italy gazed up at him with his large brown eyes. "What happened in there anyway, Germany? What made the loud noise?"
"… A rat. A really big one." He held his hands out in an exaggerated length.
"Th-That's huge!" The Italian trembled at the thought of a 4-foot-long rodent.
"Italy, was there something you wanted?"
"Si… Ve, I guess Germany really did forget. But I'm not mad, because I get to tell him!" Feliciano beamed, twirling on his foot in a circle. "Today~! Today is the day Italy first met Germany!"
The blond was taken aback by this fact. Was it really? Italy remembered such a date? … Well, this WAS Italy he was talking about. He'd remember something like this, but never bother to think about training.
Even so, Ludwig allowed a small smile to betray his lips. "Is that so?"
"Yeah!" Italy grabbed Germany's gloved hands in his. "I thought we should go out on a special trip tomorrow to celebrate!"
Now, this, Germany didn't exactly approve of. "Italy, if this is something you wanted to do, you should've told me sooner!"
"Ne, but I just thought of it today!"
"Italy, we can't."Ludwig said strictly. "There's too much to be done. We don't have that kind of time to-"
"Aw, come on! Please, Germany? Please please please please ple~ase?" The brunet used his biggest lost puppy-dog eyes and begged. "Please, with all the gelato in the world and sprinkles on top??"
Germany was a strong man. He could endure the most brutal of torture, the longest of training drills, and the heart-racing adrenaline of war. His strategy was impenetrable, his technique the best… but he didn't have anything to defend himself from Feliciano's "Puppy-Pout" face.
Ngh, damn that face.
"Alright, fine." He surrendered.
"Yaaay!" Italy beamed, dancing around Ludwig. "Thanks Germany, you're the best! I'll call later when I figure out what we can do, okay?" He skipped down the hallway, waving. "I have to go, it's past lunch already and almost time for Siesta! Ciao~!"
He watched as the Italian hopped through the front door, down the steps, trip over a bush, and start running down the street.
"…Dear god, what have I gotten myself in to…?"
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(A/N) Chapter two is now through! It was hard writing in Ludwig's P.O.V, Reason A) He's a really serious character, more serious than other characters I've written for, and Reason B) It's hard finding a flower to match his personality.*Sweatdrop*
On another note: Yes, the awesome character is none other than Prussia! God, that guy makes me laugh. I'm glad I got to write about him! Don't worry, he'll appear again later on in the story! He has to, he's Prussia.
*Benno = German name meaning 'Bear'.