Hey guys, sorry for the really, really long update. Writers block and senior year with sports and college classes are kicking my butt. But, here's the new chapter! Hope to update soon again! UNBETA

Arthur laid there, unmoving, in the bed under Alfred for hours. He didn't care the about the seconds that turned into minutes, which became hours because his Alfred need him. The discomfort was dismissed from thought as he continued to stroke the soft locks of gold. Emerald eyes trained onto Alfred's unconscious form and the feeling of fear and worry began to run amok within Arthur's unbeating heart. Hands kept touching something just so the vampire could feel the slight comfort that this, having Alfred there in the flesh, wasn't a lie or an illusion; even many a time Arthur found himself with his nose pressed into the curve of Alfred's neck and inhaling that sweet aroma over and over. "You will stay with me this time around, right Alfred?" spoke Arthur softly to the empty space to only himself, "No leaving me again. I . . ." the olden vampire's voice cracked, "I do not think I can bear to lose you again. I would rather kill a child in your womb with my own hand than let you fall again. I . . . I just cannot . . . I will not permit you to go again. Not in fear or pain . . . And my heart cannot bear your departure. So, love . . . Poppet . . . Stay with me . . . We can have all the time in the world to ourselves. Just . . . Do not leave go away and remember who you are . . . Who I am . . . Who we were." The feeling of something cold and wet encased Arthur's eyes; his vision blurred into pixels. A pale hand reached up and delicately wiped away the cool tears of a vampire. "Alfred . . . Can you not see what you do to me? You make me feel human again, after so long I can feel like this, but only with you by my side." Arthur pressed his pale and cool lips to Alfred's radiating forehead.

The vampire within him rejoiced in the closeness of something warm and full of blood, but the humanist side of him that had been buried by centuries of solitude seeked that warmth as a beckon of hope for the future. "Alfred . . . My love . . . Return to me," pleaded Arthur. Shaggy, unkempt light blonde hair pressed against groomed golden locks as cold pushed against warm; Arthur's eyes looking at Alfred's closed ones from an upturned motion. Those iced tears slowly leaked and soon began to drop upon Alfred's still face. As time passed on with slow, agonizing steps the tears began to grow in number – the wet sliver sheen flowed into the crevices of Alfred's closed lids. Slowly and tenderly Arthur brushed his fingers against Alfred's cheek and just held his lover close. The vampire would rock slightly to create a motion of comfort and would hum old tunes.

A soft knock was given from the door and Arthur looked up from Alfred's sleeping form towards the door. "Yes?" whispered Arthur.

"Arturo?" the door creaked open and barely opened brown eyes gazed at Arthur and Alfred. "Ah, did Alfredo remember who he is yet?"

"I believe he's close, but not there fully." Arthur looked at Alfred, who lay curled around Arthur's smaller form. "He's . . . . . He's hurting."

Feliciano came in slowly with a tray of spaghetti and meatballs, adorned with a side salad and a tall glass of chocolate shake. "What are you going to do?"

Emerald eyes motioned to set the tray on the ebony dresser, which the smaller Italian did without fail. "I believe I'll give Alfred a week at most, depending on how his condition affects him." Arthur closed his eyes. "I'm not losing him again. I will turn him depending on how the time cooperates with us."

"Ve, ve? But won't that make him hate you?" questioned Feliciano.

"I don't know," Arthur looked down at Alfred's unconscious body, "I don't know Feliciano."

Near silent pants escaped cracked and dry lips. Air wheezed its way through the slightly parted cavern and into the depths of Matthew's lungs. It hurt; everything hurt. From the crudely etched brand upon his cheek, to the missing finger, to the broken leg, his rear, and his everything, even his hair felt pain. Matthew lay huddled in the corner of the repulsive bed – blood painted the sheets with human waste along with it – to attempt to pull away from the disgustingness of the bed.

Matthew had lost count of the many times that the twisted, cynical Frenchman laid his filthy claim over Matthew's once pure body. The burn never seemed to leave him, especially now that infection set within the tears of his rear. All Matthew could do was close his eyes and try to escape that is until he heard the tall-tale creaking of wooden flooring moving under weight that seemed come closer to him. "Honhonhonhonhon," chuckled the Frenchman as he entered the room, " 'Ave you missed me, mon cherie?"

"Cher . . ." whispered Matthew.

A blonde brow rose high upon Francis's face. "You like my treatment and want me to be with you?" He did just call me "cher".

"F-fuck no . . . I'm a male . . . I- I – It's cher, not c-ch-cherie!"

With a wiggle of his finger and smirk upon his pale rose lips Francis eyed the boy like meat. "Ah, ah, ah. If you take me and moan for me like a bitch, zhen you are a bitch and will be treated as one." Francis's large and pale hand grasped Matthew's bruised hip and smirked. "You are nothing but a w'ore," Francis pulled Matthew's head up by his hair using the other pale hand, "And you are nothing more to me than one." With a glare Francis threw Matthew back upon the floor and smashed a pale, yet strong fist against the teen's delicate face until the older twin was hovering above the line consciousness and unconsciousness. "Sick . . . I will show Gilbert what 'e gets for leaving me with nothing."

"W-whose Gil-Gilbert?" The name rolled off Matthew's tongue in such a fashion that he felt it comforting.

A feral grin broke upon Francis's face, making his seemingly angelic features twist into that a psychotic and deranged being. "Gilbert was once a great friend," Francis snarled, "Until 'e met "you" all zhose years ago. Zhen 'e became nothing more zhan a dog tied to a leash and dragged by his "chosen" bitch." The old vampire stood tall and kicked his leathered foot against Matthew's chest, the sound of a bone snapping echoed throughout the room, and Francis smiled more. "Zhe best part was when she was killed. The sound of 'is screams as 'er burnt figure succumbed to a pitiful death. To zhink 'e didn't 'ave the strength to turn, though I'm glad because zhen Gilbert could suffer knowing zhat 'e couldn't save 'er."

"You're a sick bastard," Matthew spoke with strength.

Francis leaned in and looked in Matthew's swollen eyes. "I may be zhat, but I least I won't be zhey one to die in zhe long run." With that said the beating continued until Matthew was unconscious and Francis grew bored of abusing an unconscious body. "Non, in a few days you will join your former self. In 'ell." The tall blonde walked out of the room and locked the door, an old fashioned away with a board of wood over the door to prevent it from opening. Old, yet efficient. He presumed his steps to the upper levels of his abode.

Aged stairs creaked in protest as Francis's weight bared themselves for only a mere second. Once in the warmth of the upper levels of his home Francis shut the door to the "basement" and went upstairs to "that room." With purpose, Francis slowed his strides as he walked up the cushioned steps to the room that he was planning on going to. Standing in front of the door was painful enough, but going inside was another story.

The old vampire took a deep breath in and turned the knob, eyes closed as he rushed inside. Once the door made it's comfort with being closed did Francis open his eyes.

The older twin was left in a bloodied mess upon a cold and stone floor. Though, at the moment, he didn't care because he was off in another place far away from the torture he had been in. His body felt weightless to him as he floated into never ending bliss. As he floated there in the black he heard it. "W-what?" Matthew called out. He strained to hear, but he heard it again. "Sp-speak up," called Matthew.

Then the older twin heard it. "-che bitte Sie, lieber Gott. Bitte." Matthew frowned at the words because he didn't know them, but some part of his mind seemed to as the gap was slowly filled in. He heard it. "I beg of you, dear God, Please."

Pale ears listened for more of that voice. Words translated easily to Matthew's brain. "Please. I know that I do not pray to you often anymore, but . . . Let her be happy in her rebirth. Even if I must suffer to see her bed another man, let her be happy. My happiness is of unimportance, so long as she is able to lead a good life without this darkness that has befallen of us. Precious God, Amen."

"Gil-," the name easily spilt from Mathew's pastel lips, "-bert."

The black curtain banished and surrounding Matthew's still, subconscious, body was an image of the albino Prussian praying on his knees with an ancient cross in hands. The image seemed to tense and look around for something. He continued to look and couldn't find the answer. Matthew just looked at the surprised face and subconsciously reached out and touched the image. It seemed warm to him, but what amazed Matthew most was that the man reached to the place where Matthew's hand was and placed it over it. The man pressed into the "touch" and red eyes were covered and an expression of pain and relief seemed to spread about his features.

"M-Mattea?" questioned the image, "Mattie?"

Matthew blinked, with what he could with his swollen eyes, and wondered. "I . . . I'm here. Help . . . Me . . ."

Those eyes jerked open and looked around for the source, not finding it. "I – how? Mattie?!"

The volume made Matthew wince as he looked at the man. He was enthralled in his appearance; to him the man was beautiful. So beautiful and comforting that a name slipped his mouth, "Francis . . . Help . . ."

"Francis," growled Gilbert, "I'm coming, Mattie, iche liebe dich." Matthew shivered and the image of the man in front of him wavered. "Mattie?" The urge to return to the dark binds of sleep was strong and Matthew, being as weak as he was, followed the urge.

"I . . . Love you . . . Gilbert . . ." whispered Matthew as he was pulled away.

Twilight eyes opened as Matthew awoke from his dream. "Gilbert," whispered the teen as he felt his heart flutter at the emotions behind the name.

Gilbert's eyes snapped open. "What the fuck was that?!" The albino jumped up from his messy bed and bolted to his brother's room. "BRUDER!" yelled Gilbert as he let himself in. "BRUD-"

"T-TI AM-!" screeched a voice the albino only knew too well.

Red eyes gazed upon his brother's muscular and broad back, with his sculpted "buns of steel" being his only greeting from his brother. The look upon the Italian's face was highly flushed; his legs were spread wide by Ludwig's grip.

Gilbert was only able to cover his eyes as he glimpsed "white" being sprayed or oozing from places that he hadn't ventured in years. "Don't you guys ever use a sock or a hat?" gagged Gilbert, who normally was all over the sexual page given the circumstances.

"How about you knock next time?" steel blue eyes glared at crimson, "Or you could pay attention to your ears and listen to the sounds we were making."

"Hey! Don't pull the "listen" shit with me! You know Arthur built this place so it would be difficult to hear things!" Red eyes twitched and a grin broke out, "Not to mention you to only have sex like one un century."

Within a flash the younger German pinned his brother against the wall of his and Feliciano's room. "VHAT VAS DAT?" the German accent becoming more pronounced, "I DIDN'T UN HEAR YOU!"

"Verpiss dich, Luddy!," (Fuck off) shouted Gilbert as he pushed against his baby brother, "Dieses ... dies zu meinem Kumpel. Bitte hören, Luddy." (This ….. This is about my mate. Please listen, Luddy) begged Gilbert.

"Geldbuße," sighed Ludwig after he saw a look in his brother's crimson eyes. It was a look he hadn't seen in years, centuries even. "I un though Mattea was un murdered."

"Ja, ja . . . She was . . . But Arthur used his magick on her soul and now she's reborn now." Steel blue eyes blinked in acknowledgment. "And . . . Francis has him."

Ludwig looked down. He knew that this must have been hard for his brother because he and Francis used to be great friends. Gilbert had told Ludwig the story many times when they had found each other after decades of separation intervals: the albino met the Frenchman while on a quest to conquer the frozen lands of Russia. The Frenchman had been lured to Gilbert's troop for the blood, which was a rarity to have such a number in a secluded area. However, Gilbert intervened and managed to win against Francis, though the age difference between the vampires was an arguable case, which led the two to become friends. They raised pirate armies together on the high seas and formed a bond with a Spaniard, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, that made the three the notorious "Bad Touch Trio" of the vampire realm. The three made other vampires fear the crossing of the sea, while humans only feared the pirate insignia upon the flags adorned by their ships. Ludwig even recalled Gilbert and Francis helping the American colonist rebel against Great Britain for independence, despite Francis's hatred of Americans. The falling out occurred when Gilbert met his mate centuries ago in the French colonies in Canada.

"I see Gilbert, Mat-" Ludwig blinked, "Did you say un "he"?"

Red eyes rolled in their sockets. "And you say I have the bad hearing. Yes, I said he because Arthur fucked up him magick, I'm guessing, and Mattea popped out a male this go-around. Just please. Help me."

"Ja, ja." Ludwig gazed at Feliciano, "Because I couldn't understand the feeling of losing the one you love."

"Danke Ludwig." The albino quickly hugged his brother. "You should put some clothes on."

Ludwig looked own and blushed bright red. "R-raus jetzt!" (G-get out now!) roared Ludwig as he grabbed the blanket and covered himself, though he only exposed his lover.

The albino quickly left when he saw more than he wanted from the Italian, ever. A weight lifted off of his shoulders now that he knew that he had help, for Gilbert knew he could count on his baby brother for anything, well almost anything seeing that the last pirate scavenger went a-wall. The Prussian made his way back to his isolated room, where he continued to slump against the closed creamy entryway. Those pale lids closed over red eyes and the memories that seemed –ever so- like yesterday began to flood within Gilbert's vision.

"Big bruder," steel blue eyes looked up to greet red ones, "Are you okay?"

Gilbert stilled for a second before smiling and rubbings Ludwig's head, "Ja, ja. I am mein bruder."

"Then vhy are you limping?"

The innocent concerned look tore Gilbert's heart up. "B-because Big Bruder had a hard time at vork and hurt mein back today." The younger Germany brother quickly got up and ran out of the small, dank room. Gilbert heard the opening and closing of the door. Time ticked by and the door opened and closed again. Ludwig came back in, little face flushed red with exertion and breath out of place, with something in his hand: bark.

"I got this from un villow tree," smiled the younger German. He quickly put it in a nap sack and hit it, rolled it, and mashed it up. Then he put the bits in water and made a paste after an hour or two. "Big bruder use this for you limp. Please."

Gilbert smiled and took the concoction and rubbed it on his lower back, while making sure his brother didn't see the bruises on his hip or the red, purplish marks over his chest. "Danke Luddy." The younger German jumped onto the bed and hugged his brother.

"Ich liebe dich, Gilbert."

"Ich liebe dich, Ludwig." Smiled Gilbert as he ran his fingers through the blonde locks. "Now sleep bruder."

The younger curled by his older brother and started to nod off. Gilbert smiled and relaxed. Gilbert continued to rub small circles in his brother's back as he dreamed. A smile dawned on the albino's face as he remembered the day his baby bruder as born. Gilbert was 12 at the time and he was happy to have a sibling after his parent's had miscarried years after Gilbert's birth. However, when Ludwig was born it seemed God was against his family and took his mother from he, his father, and his baby brother. The albino raises his brother with all good intentions until the day his father killed himself from depression when Gilbert was 15 and Ludwig was 3. From then on money was hard to come by, so the older sibling started to sell himself to others if it meant his little bruder had food, shelter, and an education. It hurt Gilbert that he couldn't always be there, but the money helped and his brother grew more. That was four years ago when Gilbert started his life as a prostitute, now he was 19.

"I must go for now," Gilbert whispered into Ludwig's sleeping ear, "Gute nacht." (good night)

Quietly, Gilbert left and started his "job". He had returning clients and always had new clients due to him being an anomaly, an albino. He was different than the others and different is what the clients wanted. Gilbert smiled and continued his walking to get picked up.

Humming to himself the albino didn't notice the figure moving behind him, slowly getting closer to him. It wasn't until he was nearing the edge of town that he noticed and by then it was too late. The figure was pushing him towards the woods and, finally, pinning him against a tree. "So beautiful. Hair like stars, skin like snow, and eyes like red," the figure spoke, a male voice that Gilbert didn't understand due to a different language being spoken. "You will be mine now." The figure smiled and started to remove Gilbert's pants.

Soft lips touched pale, exposed skin. Cold fingers glided over toned thighs. A hot piece of flesh began to press into Gilbert's unprepared entrance. Throwing his head back Gilbert howled at the unpreparation; this man was large, very large. He as bigger than most of the customers the albino received. The figure only smiled, for he got what he wanted: a clear path to the jugular vein. Mouth latched onto the spot and sucked hard. Fangs slide out and the strangers mouth formed smiled before said fangs plunged deep into Gilbert's throat.

Gilbert cried out at the new source of pain radiating from his neck. "L-ludwig!" cried Gilbert as he realized he was, most likely, going to die. "B-bitte! Mein Bruder braucht mich!" Gilbert thrashed and cried out as he was taken painful. He felt the searing pain in his ass, as he did in his neck. He was afraid. "Bitte!" he cried.

The figure pulled away and grasped Gilbert by his hair to look into the red eyes. "Life or death, moya igrushka"

"Ludwig braucht mich . . ."panted Gilbert, "L-ludwig . . ."

A smile broke out as the figure bit his lips raw with his fangs. He looked at Gilbert and smiled with blood dripping from his mouth. "My new fledgling." He kissed the albino and forced his blood into the German's system. Gilbert blinked and drank the liquid as the stranger pressed his erect sex deeper into him. The albino felt the stilling of the stranger against his body and closed his eyes, he hate that feeling. When the stranger peeled his face off of Gilbert's he smiled. Gilbert looked into the violet's eyes and shivered at the aura this person gave off. Large hands touched the sides of his face before that smile re-appeared and made the albino's bones shiver; quickly those hands forced Gilbert's head to one side and his neck snapped like a twig. Gilbert's boy fell like a deadweight to the ground, his ass leaking the evidence of his defilement, and his body bruised.

The stranger left and moved on, wondering how his new toy would develop on his own, yes. Ivan was a sadist. He would now in a decade or two. "Good fuck," smiled the mad Russian, "He was. I will be using him again, if he lives. Da, da."

Gilbert awoke with a startle breath and pain in his neck. "Vhat just happened?" he sat up and blushed at seeing sperm smearing the ground beneath him. He pulled his pants up and rubbed his throat due to an ache. "Burns . . ." He stood up and wondered back into his village to try and coerce a customer for Ludwig's sake. A regular smiled and Gilbert winked, a sign of agreement. The two walked as if they were a couple and into the alleyway to perform their deed. Gilbert pressed against the brick walling of an ageing building and licked his lips seductively. His regular grabbed his slim waist and kissed him roughly. The treatment to Gilbert's lips, followed by his neck, made his throat ache more, but Gilbert, dutifully, sunk to his knees and slide the pants of his regular down with a gentle touch. After licking his lips to wet them properly to slide up and down the length the albino latched onto the tip of the flaccid appendage. He squeezed his lips with an artistic style and slowly used his tongue to lick up and down carefully. The albino felt the appendage grow warmer and harder with each little nook of affection. Once the dick was hard enough Gilbert sucked with a nice suction, while his tongue circled the tip with trained skill.

After a point in the time the regular pulled himself away from Gilbert's artistic mouth and brought him up and around. The regular pushed his hand down the albino's, now, wet and soiled pants. "Used," spoke the regular as he traced Gilbert's lithe asscheek. The regular let go of Gilbert, pulled his pants up, and started to walk away, but Gilbert grabbed his arm and looked at him with a look of savagery.

"Nein, we kissed and I sucked you," Gilbert's voice had an edge to it.

The regular frowned and smacked Gilbert's hand away and returned to the streets. The smack wasn't hard, but it knocked Gilbert sideways. He frowned at his own weakness and wondered what was wrong with him. He pushed himself up and wobbled back to his and Ludwig's little house. Once inside he found his bed and collapsed on it; his little brother, being the helpful little brother he could be, was up and when he heard Gilbert he jumped into his brother's bed. "Bruder?" asked the small Ludwig.

Gilbert was battling the waves of ache in his body as his senses screamed in pain. "N-not now Luddy, I'm hurting." At this Ludwig started to massage his older brother's back and looked as his brother. His completion seemed paler than normal; he was sweating, and panting. Faint groans were heard every now and then.

"Big bruder?" questioned Ludwig again. This time he laid by Gilbert so he was looking his big brother in the eyes. "Vhat's vrong?" The younger brother patted his brother's head and pouted a bit at the lack of response. Ludwig pressed closer to his brother. The closeness sent Gilbert's body into overdrive; the heat from his brother, the pulsing heart that raged in his brother's chest sent his mind into a daze. Gilbert wrapped his arm around Ludwig and pulled him closer; his mouth opened and started to lick a spot on Ludwig's small neck. "B-bruder? Vhat are you doing? S-stop!" Ludwig began to squirm, and in Gilbert's foggy mind he bit down on the succulent neck present with a force that made Ludwig scream at the invasion. The pain was something never experienced before. It was scary, as well a sensation of a force being ripping, but also a dull sense of pleasure. "G..Gilbert! Big bruder!" wailed Ludwig and he squirmed.

Sadly, Gilbert's ears didn't pick up the screams, the protests, or the bodily attempts of escape. No, his mind was on the pleasure of the thing that was in his mouth. It was delectable. Better than the seldom had sweets or the dinners that he and his brother feasted like kings. It was rich. It thick. It was warm. It was practically melting on his tongue. However, Gilbert's senses went into overdrive and he felt the squirms of his victim. The protests shouted. He loved it, it made him feel dominate. But the albino remembered who he was with and where. Red eyes flashed open and he saw a thatch of light blonde hair. Throwing himself off of his brother, Gilbert backed into the wall and just watched Ludwig collapsed on the bed. "Mein Gott . . . Luddy . . ." The albino felt the tears streak his face as he ran. He didn't know where he was going, nor did he even want to know. Gilbert just knew that he had to get away from his brother; safety to Ludwig always came first. Always. But now . . . Gilbert felt wrong, he had hurt his little bruder by killing him.

Gilbert felt something hard run into his face and in a circuit-like fashion he fell on and glared at the object. "Why you wanker!" growled a voice that had a language that the Prussian didn't comprehend. "You bloody bloke! Watch out you damn limey if you're going to be taking a midnight sprint! I mean for Godless's sake just carry a blooming lantern or a bloody torch!" Gilbert just stared at the man and blinked, all glare gone and replaced with confusion and the wonder of why a man would stick fur to his forehead. "Blooming limey," the Brit shouted once more and sighed before regaining a mean demeanor. This time the Brit spoke in German. "You damn wanker! Watch out if you bloody go for a midnight run!"((The German: Sie verdammten Wichser! Passen Sie auf, wenn Sie blutigen unterwegs für einen Mitternachtslauf! The German is in English now, this will be easier without going nuts with translations))

Recognition sparked in Gilbert's eyes at the language and frowned quickly thereafter. "Me?! Why not you?! Any decent man would be at home sleeping, less he be out taking a whore up the ass!"

"I would do no such thing! I am a true gentleman!" prided the stranger. And, to Gilbert's eyes, he fit the part. He was clad in clean clothing of the one of the most expensive textile colors he knew of; the shirt and stockings were shockingly close to the man's skin color as they shined by the limited moonlight, while the frock jacket shined showing off the fine deep green laced with a goldish design upon the fabric. Even the pantaloons that the man was wearing were made of a solid fabric of the same deep green; the boots this man wore were new looking, form fitting, and they held a gleam. Though, the only thing that would differ to that imagine were those furry things on the man's forehead and the fashion the man wore his hair, wind-blown appearance or just out of bed like his baby bruder always had. "If you're accusing me of this then you must be doing the follies."

"Me! You mean you! I do no such things!" This time Gilbert saw that one of the furry blobs on the man's forehead move up. "Mein Gott! Those are eyebrows!" Gilbert pointed to the furry mess on the man's face and laughed.

The suspecting looked was quickly replaced with a look of absolute hate. "Beg your pardon? These are family heirlooms. The markings of a true royal for our kind."

Gilbert stopped laughing and looked at the stranger with an emotion of question and fear and worry. "O-our kind?" he questioned, "You mean humans? Because I don't think the kings of my nation have eyebrows like those."

"You prat. Quit with my eyebrows because they signify heirlooms of the royal blood that I am a descendent of!" growled the stranger, "And yes our kind. You smell like one. Smell like blood as well. Not to mention that fancy little love bite on your neck as further proof for my statement. You and I are the same kind, just different levels."

"Vhat do you mean? Our kind?" frowned Gilbert at not receiving the answer he was looking for.

"Simple. You are a vampir: one that drinks the blood of the dead, that fears the natural light of day, that beholds tremendous power compared to the follies of man. You cannot die by normal human means besides fire and decapitation. You will cease to age from the age that you were transformed. You are a god when compared by man; deemed the seed of the devil by man. You will be feared, you will be loved, and you will live past those you have loved."

The information sank deep within Gilbert's mind and all he could muster were tears for his deceased brother. "To bad I just killed my only kin, my bruder Ludwig. I . . . I didn't know . . ."

"Did you hear his heart beat when you fled?" No answer escaped the Prussian. "A drum? Did you hear a drum perhaps?" Again, no answer removed itself from the albino's lips. "A thump, thump, thump sound? Maybe at a slower rate?"

Gilbert thought, he did hear a heartbeat. Yes it was slow, but it still was a heartbeat and that meant. "He's alive . . ."

"Children are notorious fighters' lad," smiled the elder vampire. He offered his hand to the albino, which Gilbert took, and pulled him to his feet. "I am Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. You?"

"Gilbert Beilschmidt of Prussia."

A chuckle escaped Arthur's lips, "I hail from across the strait, a channel if you will. A country of-"

"And I care so much about your stupid homeland. You and your country are not as awesome as me and my country," interrupted Gilbert with a smirk.

"A jokester, lovely . . ." sighed Arthur as he undeniable smiled at his challenge and the fact he did this willingly, "Well, come on lad. I'll be your guardian and you will learn or die." Arthur's facial expression turned from his awkward smile to all seriousness. "I will teach you so you can be on your own in the future: to explore on your own, to be your own, because as of now you are nothing more than a baby."

Ruby eyes widened a bit at Arthur's words. "But vhat about Luddy?"

Emerald eyes rolled slightly and a snort was barely audible, "Yes, have a newborn vampir around a living human. Not to mention said human has already been attacked by said newborn vampir and has lived to tell the tale. No, we will leave this area."

"Then I refuse!" Gilbert posed himself defensively.

"Then your brother dies. So do the people of your village. Then the people of surrounding villages until they come for you and end you. Choice your fate boy. Because your brother is living right now after escaping your newborn thirst. He can live, grow up, have a family, age, and die as a human of an older age."

Gilbert's eyes closed at the thought of what his baby brother would look like as he aged, then what his nieces and nephews would look like, and then his brother as an elderly man on his death bed. "But Ludwig is nothing more than a boy of seven years. He needs an adult in his life, a provider. He has nothing after I am gone."

"I see and I'm surprised that you didn't catch onto the tone of my voice as I mentioned "they."

"Vell, my bruder is the vorld to me. I don't want to lose him."

Arthur sighed and shocked his head while clicking his tongue. "By "they" I mean the lamia venatores or vampire hunters. They hunt us and kills us. They kill those who are in contact with us and those who are of family to us when human. It is best to keep your brother safe by keeping you away from him until your thirst is tamed and to keep the hunters from using him as bait for you."

"I don't vant to leave Lud," pouted Gilbert at the thought.

"You don't have choice," thinking slowly, "We can stay in the country and you can see him from a distant under my watch. I'll even be his benefactor and higher him a nanny."

Gilbert's eyes widen and his jaw dropped. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, because it is my obligation to see over my fellow kin, to keep them safe despite my failure."

"Failure?"

Arthur's eyes darkened and his shook his head. "No, you do not need to know. Come, we must leave before dawn rises." Gilbert hesitantly followed Arthur and the walk wasn't too long, though Gilbert didn't realize how fast the pair were traveling. "You will bath soon after you rise tomorrow night. Follow any rules I give to you. Number one, do not kill in this house. Number two, do as you are told. Number three, only go into areas I deem fit and stay the bloody hell out of my room and personal study. Besides that just play nice with the other vampires here and they will help you, teach you to be stronger than your instinct." Gilbert nodded his head as his eyes befell the "house" that Arthur was speaking about. It was the remnants of a castle that were repaired with wood creating a very large house. The "house" was surrounded by a gate and fence as tall as a normal house probably stood. The outside was lavished with gardening expertise and the inside was aristocratic when Gilbert got inside. The albino kept following Arthur as the pair moved up the levels of the house and Gilbert was amazed with the coloring and the amount of decoration. The paint cost more than the house that he and Ludwig had been living in. "This . . ." trailed Arthur as he pointed to a door, "Is your room, do what you like and rest for the coming day. Good evening." Arthur quickly dismissed himself as he went to his room to self-loathe about the loss of his mate and child.

Gilbert watched Arthur disappear and could have sworn he heard small sobs before he entered his room. When he did his mind was blown away. Gold and sky blue paints were used for his room. The furniture was something he had never seen before, at least in the condition it was in and the quality it was. He moved quietly to his bed and laid down, a moan escaping his lips at the comfort it brought. The albino quickly curled on the bed and closed his eyes. Sadly, his mind race back to his brother and how he would never see him again in person. "Luddy," cried Gilbert as he hugged his pillow to his chest, in some semblance of his brother sharing a bed with him. "Luddy . . . Be good mein bruder." Gilbert buried his face into the pillow and never imagined he would be his brother's savior in only a decade.

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