|
Post by Germany on May 17, 2013 20:18:03 GMT -5
It had been weeks since the last time Ludwig had seeen Feliciano. At first he didn't think anything of it, seeing as they were fighting a war and duty called an individual away from friends and family for significant amount of time. However, Ludwig had to remind himself that this was Feliciano he was thinking about and the Italian had never failed to contact him or come seek him out within a week if they hadn't seen each other. And so, it should have been obvious something was wrong but Ludwig had also been busy worrying about each front he was fighting on as well as the internal unrest that seemed to be distracting him more and more. He was becoming sluggish, almost absent minded when before his mind had been sharp, ready for what was to come next. It had never failed him but today, listening to the radio, it had failed him in a way that he could not quite comprehend.
Ludwig had frozen. His shoulders tensing as he made to scoop out some beans from his tin container only to bring the spoon back down, his attention completely absorbed with the news he was hearing spew at him from the small box resting on a crate. He wasn't the only one paying close attention to the information, but it didn't take long for the few soldiers loitering around the area to begin whispering amongst each other.
The tin container was placed down to his side as he tried to process what he had just heard. Had he done something wrong? Had his training been too harsh that it had driven Feliciano away? Did their friendship mean nothing?
No.Ludwig couldn't think like that, those thoughts were destructive and he had already been having quite a few of them without the knowledge of losing one of his closest allies. Althougth, had it not been obvious? Shouldn't he have been expecting this considering the fact that Mussolini had been kicked out of office and was still inprisoned by his own people? He had even heard Hitler mention his doubts on the Italians remaining by their side until the end. However, if this was the case, then why did Ludwig feel so surprised...so hurt?
Dull blue eyes stared fixedly at the cursed small box, a complete contradiction to what was occuring in his mind. He looked calm, a little bothered by the news but there was no sign that the news had actually hurt him, cut him deeper than he would have liked to admit.
It had been obvious.
Feliciano had mentioned his uncertainty concerning Mussolini. Hell, Ludwig had even mentioned how he disliked his very own boss but that was something they had in common and something he had hoped would keep them together. As much as feliciano drove him mad, the small Italian was also the rope holding him down and keeping him sane.
Now that rope had been cut, and Ludwig as floating away. There was nothing left to distract him of the horrors occuring within his borders and otuside of his borders. All of the evil he had taken part in and especially all the evil he couldn't stop...that he was forced to agree with because the Third Reich thought it was the right thing to do.
This entire war had been an insanity but the thought of venging the injustice from the Great War had really driven Ludwig to an extreme that he should have avoided. Yet, here he was, here they all were, doing the one thing they all thought would never happen again after the devestating affects of the first war.
It was the eigth of September and Ludwig's only friend had betrayed him for his enemies.
Ludwig swallowed hard as he slowly eased himself up. Several pairs of eyes fell on him and Ludwig was glad that right now, at this moment, nothing betrayed his emotions. Emotions that constantly confused him...that betrayed him as well, betrayed him just like Feliciano and would continue to betray him because they were unruly and weak. He really did try to keep his cool but it had been hard and the only thing that he could veer his anger towards was sitting on a crate a few feet in front of him.
His jaw and fists were clenched as he made his way towards the offending object before picking it up in his vice grip. The radio creaked under the pressure of his hold as he began making his way away from the camp. His soldiers didn't need to see this and it would certainly not be good for moral if they were to witness Ludwig lose face when he had been so composed the entire war even with the prediction of their high chance of losing the war circulating amongst his people.
When he was a good distance away, Ludwig tightened his hold even more, hearing the radio splinter and crush in his hand before letting it drop when he was satisfied with the destruction and gazing down at the mess of what used to be a radio.
It wasn't too late. He could win Italy over...he could bring Feliciano back to his side and they could win the war. These were thoughts of a disillusioned man...one that didn't want to see the truth of what was clearly unfolding in front of him...what had been unfolding in front of him with the opening of an eastern front.
The night had been restless, but luckily Ludwig had been left alone, then again no one had been brave enough to venture out of camp to check up on their commander.
Sept. 13th, 1943
Mussolini had been freed, Northern Italy was under his occupation and although Ludwig should feel better by this feat, he just couldn't quell the anger that had only been allowed to grow with the abscence of the Italian.
What made this all worse was the increased stress of having to deal with the allies who had invaded Sicily before the armistice had been signed which got the tall German thinking...it was obvious Romano disliked him and it wasn't too far-fetched to think that the older Italian would bully his younger half into agreeing with such a thing...Romano must have known what kind of handicap this would be for him.
Ludwig gritted his teeth as he made his way through the building that used to house Mussolini's office but was now being used as German headquarters, it would only be a matter of time until the rest of Italy was securely under their occupation.
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 18, 2013 10:26:12 GMT -5
If there was ever a medal given for sheer guileless and watery willed Cowardice, then Feliciano Vargas was sure that he should have been presented with such a prize ten-fold and then ten-fold again by this point in his existence. There was just no denying it really; he thought to himself balefully as he studied the grain in the wood of the desk in front of him, with what appeared to be the utmost interest. He was the biggest coward on the face of the planet, and would probably remain to be so until he was naught but dust.
Such self-depreciating thoughts were probably unbecoming of a soldier; and certainly unbecoming for the grandson of the mighty Rome to be thinking. He sighed, the sound soft but drawn-out in the back of his throat, as he let his forehead contact with the top of the desk with a dull thud.
He could feel it in his stomach; churning and fluttering that nervous guilt, and he could feel in his very bones the suffering that was surely taking place all over his country. But, coward though he was, he was sticking by his decision with a resolute tenacity people often assumed he lacked.
He was… on reflection… very glad he’d agreed to the armistice. He was very grateful that his brother; all blustering anger and tart opinions, had managed to sway his wavering belief. This war was insane, their leaders even more so, and he hated to fight at the best of times. The suffering, word of what had been going on was just too much for the Italian’s conscious to bear, and so he had agreed to end it.
Except that it hadn’t ended.
He was naïve to have thought that such a move would make everything better; if anything parts had become worse, and now he was left alone in the north with only bitter, guilty thoughts for company.
“I wonder how Ludwig took it…” hair that had grown too long flopped into tired eyes as he looked up from his desk and over to the blank, whitewashed walls. There was nobody there to talk to presently and so he had reverted to speaking to the thin, dusty air to sort out his musings.
“Well obviously he didn’t take it well but… I hope he understands. I mean I never meant to upset him or anything. Maybe he doesn’t care? He’s probably really busy and all, so-“
There was a stack of papers for him to look over to his right, but Feliciano had next to no desire to read through them. They just made his stomach churn all the more, and his vision swim. What was the point anyway? He was essentially in hiding whilst all the chaos reigned outside this little abandoned house… he knew not where the true owners were and thinking on it too much made bile crawl into his throat and a chill run down his spine.
Restlessness had him standing in the next instant, and he paced the room like a caged lion; clothes dirtied and in need of repair, the left boot had a hole in the sole of it he was aware, but he couldn’t risk leaving this place right now.
He nibbled on the edge of his thumbnail, a frown usurping his usually cheerful face as he considered his options once again. There weren’t many after all.
If he were a normal citizen, and not tied to his country as he was; he’d be sorely tempted to make a clean break for the hills and join the Resistance. As it was he doubted he’d get far before being found out or caught…
He caught sight of his reflection in a broken mirror as he turned to pace again and nearly laughed at what he saw there. He looked almost manic; wild-eyed and desperate. Far too gaunt and pale to be considered himself. Feliciano snorted, and turned away.
“What to do… I heard the broadcast. Ludwig must have been furious. Then the capture of him, ah but they managed to free him didn’t they… damn it! I hate this. I hate not knowing what to do and I hate being trapped.” He snapped at nothing and flopped back onto the rickety chair behind the desk.
He missed them. He decided. No he wasn’t regretting. He was still firm in his belief that he’d done the right thing; but he would definitely like company to go with it. Kiku’s calm, sage advice; Ludwig’s intelligent wit; or even his own brother’s sarcastic comments would do wonders to soothe the ragged edges of his mind right now.
He stood again and huffed, blowing hair from his eyes. That settled it. It was no good just sitting here and hiding away. He needed to see people, and he needed news of what was happening.
He needed to apologise and make amends somehow too… Germany was Germany, and Ludwig was Ludwig: his best friend, a loyal protective man. He needed to apologise to Ludwig at the very least for this seeming betrayal.
It could all go horribly wrong, and it probably would. But he needed to find his former ally and explain things if he could. Ludwig was most likely in these parts with the occupation forces, right? A part of him hoped so.
Wasting no more time he grabbed his coat from the corner of the room and hurried out the door, hoping to keep a low profile until he managed to find Ludwig.
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 19, 2013 4:16:55 GMT -5
“The allies are pushing forward, sir.” An officer spoke up as Ludwig and a few other high positioned officers glanced down at the map of Italy laid out plainly for them to see on the wooden desk. “They’ve landed on the mainland and our ranks are suffering. We’re not able to hold them back.”
Ludwig’s gaze fell on the small piece of land known as Sicily and his anger spiked but he managed to calm it as he nodded taking in the information. Things weren’t looking the best for his troops and even more so that there was a lack of back up and the brute force that used to make up the back bone of his army had dwindled to mere desperation and a need to survive. There had once been a vague point to fight but that time had long passed and it was more than obvious how pointless things had gotten and how much he would soon suffer for his corrupted and idealistic thoughts concerning his place in the world.
There were days that Ludwig truly believed that Feliciano leaving his side had been a sort of punishment given to him for being so arrogant, so assuming and greedy. He had not meant to be, of course, but it so happened that he was doomed to repeat a mistake that he had thought he had learned from barely twenty-five years ago. “Tell them to persevere; we’re waiting on Berlin to give us the go ahead to send down back up.” Another officer spoke up, their gaze falling on Ludwig momentarily before fixing themselves back on the map.
“The most important thing is to keep Rome and keep the allies back from crossing the half-way line. If we can do that, we can secure Italy for the Third Reich and re-claim the lands lost.”
It was all foolish talk, Ludwig realised and the pain in his chest returned, making itself known as he swallowed hard. He pulled back from the table feeling slightly dizzy and sick to the stomach as he kept his gaze to himself. He didn’t want to know what the other’s thought of him, he had heard the whispers.
‘Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt is looking worse for wear.’
His outer appearance, even his uniform (although mostly flawless was lacking something of it's usually pristine-ness) looked almost unkempt but not quite. His hair that was usually smoothed back, no stray hair out of place, would occasionally have the random piece of hair noticeably out of place, or he would fail to sleek it back altogether. It didn't help that there were large bags under his eyes and he was looking a sickly pale were before he had a more healthy sheen to his skin.
‘Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt is acting very strange, he hasn’t been the same since Italy surrendered to the allies.’
Ludwig wasn't the most talkative naturally but this complete silence and lack of interaction with his men besides the few meetings was disconcerting. There had been many times that Ludwig would be seen laughing with some of his soldiers but there was a complete lack of laughter as if he had died on the inside. Although, many soldiers were starting to think that perhaps the tall German had died on the inside, that the strain of the war had finally broken him.
‘Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt has been so cold and distant….cruel even.’
Ludwig was prone to snapping at whoever stepped out of line even just a little bit. If things were not perfect, his rage would come forward full force, reprimanding and scolding whoever was unlucky to cross his path at the time.
Apparently his change in attitude had been very obvious. No matter how hard he had tried to hide it, he couldn’t. His true feelings were leaking through the cracks of his composure and were affecting his every day work. If Gilbert were here, he would be disappointed, almost embarrassed for him, for letting such news get to him so badly. It was unbecoming of a General to allow feelings interfere with what was important for his troops, for his people.
After a bit more discussion, Ludwig ended up excusing himself from the meeting as he took an early leave and managed to hide himself in an empty office. The room was cosy decorated with a wall filled with books, a large oak desk and several couches and portraits. He was glad that it was abandoned and so he stepped further inside, heading all the way to the back to lean over the wooden desk as he took in several deep breathes. He was tense, his muscles taught and his back aching from the strain he had put on it these couple of months.
However, it was clear that it had a lot to do with what was going on in Berlin as well. To say that the war wasn’t taking its toll on Ludwig now would be the biggest lie he could come up with. Everything about how he was right now was due to thousands of bad decisions and thousand more to come. The tall man ran a hand through his hair before slowly straightening himself. What made this entire situation worse was the fact that he hadn’t seen Feliciano once nor did he know anything of the man’s whereabouts. He could be half way to America for all he knew…or he could be being beaten in a prison in England. The possibilities were endless and that was the worst part.
Feliciano would not have to look far, Ludwig would be easy to find if he looked in the right office. The tall German would not be leaving it any time soon.
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 19, 2013 11:57:01 GMT -5
He was fortunate perhaps, that he appeared so unassuming and innocent at times. He was able to gain some information from a wary looking woman as he passed her in the street. She’d seemed suspicious at first, almost angry about why he wanted to know where the Germans were staying; but eventually her countenance had softened and she’d relented the information. Feliciano had thanked her as charmingly as possible to further sweeten her temper and had trotted quickly in the direction she’d given.
It wasn’t particularly hard to find the occupying Germans to be honest; the building they were in was one of the more important ones and had remained well maintained for their purposes. Despite having fewer soldiers and less cause to continue the war than Feliciano remembered; the place was still a hive of activity and so the Italian nation tried to appear as unobtrusive and innocuous as possible. It was times like these he almost wished he were more like Alfred’s brother. To seemingly go unnoticed by others would be an advantage in such a scenario. However Feliciano had spent his life as a loud, vivacious, and out-spoken person, and he just didn’t know how to reverse this and turn in the other way.
He could only hope he wasn’t caught…
Though would it matter if he was? Providing his assumption that Ludwig would be here was correct, then he’d likely be brought before his former ally if he was captured. However he’d much rather approach Ludwig of his own violation and without unpleasant interrogations from soldiers who may or may not be sympathetic towards a man whose kin had betrayed theirs… Although now he looked around he did see several Italian soldiers wandering the building as well… he supposed some may have stayed loyal.
Taking a steadying breath, Feliciano moved from his vantage point and strode confidently as possible towards the building. He could do this, it was fine, they had no reason to suspect another soldier in their midst, right? Granted his uniform was less than immaculate, but it would hopefully serve its purpose and aid him entry without rousing suspicion.
He made as if to go to the front entrance, and then at the last moment veered to the right, avoiding the guard stationed at the door and making his way around the back of the building. Luck was with him; he knew this place tolerably well and knew there was a smaller entrance to the rear of the building oft forgotten. He was sure that in the present climate the Germans would have overlooked it and failed to place a guard there.
Eyes darting for any sign of being followed as he turned the corner, Feliciano breathed a small sigh of relief as no shouts or footsteps could be heard. He leaned against the wall to calm himself briefly, before making his way to the door, a small uncertain smile tugged his lips due to the small victory he’d been granted. He’d been correct, there was no guard here. Better yet when he pressed his ear to the solid door, he could hear no signs of life beyond. It was likely that this part of the building was in a state of disuse.
Reaching out, Feliciano turned the handle and jiggled it experimentally. Locked. Well you can’t have everything…
He dropped to his haunches a produced a small twist of wire from his coat pocket. Still on the alert for anyone who may discover him, Feliciano got to the task of unlocking the door, muttering softly in irritated Italian as he did.
Picking locks was probably not a skill he should feel particularly proud of, but it was one that he was good at. It had got him out of… and into… several sticky situations over the course of his lifetime. Still, at this point he was glad of it.
A few twists of the wire was all it took for the lock to click open and for Feliciano to take one last cautious look around before entering the building.
Once inside things were fairly uneventful, thankfully. He was a soldier inside the building, and as such it was simply assumed that he was working there. So long as he didn’t act too out of the ordinary, or make any stupid mistakes, then nobody should suspect that he shouldn’t be here. The thought assuaged some of his fears and he let himself relax a little so his mind could focus on more important matters such as: Where on Earth would Ludwig be?
Was he even here? Perhaps he’d been wrong to think he’d be in Italy at all…
He tried to shake off such negative thoughts and walked swiftly down the hallways with a purposeful stride. If he acted as if he had an important task to do, hopefully nobody would stop him and delay his progress.
Feliciano huffed, jogging up a flight of stairs. There had been no sign of Ludwig on the lower levels and he hadn’t had the nerve to ask anyone where Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt might be found. He’d have to rely on himself.
Licking his lips nervously, Feliciano turned down yet another corridor and then paused. This place was better kept than the other halls he’d traversed; cleaner and a little more professional looking… definitely a place Ludwig would prefer.
His heart had sped to a pace that Feliciano felt was foolish given the circumstances. He was not in a battle situation, but why did he suddenly feel nauseous and light-headed? Hands clammy and chest strangely hollow.
Deep down he knew. If Ludwig was here at all, he’d be in one of the rooms in this corridor… more than likely within moments he’d be face to face with the person he’d essentially betrayed, and God only knows how he’d react to that.
Rubbing his temples, and on the verge of turning tail and leaving, Feliciano forced himself onward, treading carefully to avoid creaking floorboards.
All too soon he found himself in front of a door, a door from which behind he could hear movement. The rest of the hallway was quiet, and Feliciano just knew as easily as he knew his own name that Ludwig was here. Trembling, and scrunching his eyes shut, Feliciano quietly opened the door.
He’d been correct. Ludwig stood there in the office, taking deep breaths and looking far worse than Feliciano remembered seeing him. Even with his back to him, Feliciano could see the tiredness in the drooping of his head, the stress evident in the muscles held taught and ready for action.
And Feliciano had no idea why he said it, why he didn’t start with something more friendly, more amicable, hell maybe even apologetic; but as was the way with the reckless Italian, the first words out of his mouth (after a small disbelieving gasp), were; “Dio, Ludwig… you look like Hell!”
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 19, 2013 12:46:32 GMT -5
It was the creak of the door that caught Ludwig`s attention as he heard it open and then shut behind whoever it was who entered. He involuntarily tensed having wanted at least a few more minutes to himself but having expected that his alone time would be short lived. The German had managed to straighten himself and fake a more relaxed posture before he heard the familiar gasp and the unmistakable voice of a certain Italian he hadn`t expected to hear anymore.
“Dio, Ludwig… you look like Hell!”
Certainly not the most tactful words he had heard Feliciano say to him but he would have almost rathered that than what he was sure the smaller man was here to do. It was a bad time. He wasn`t ready to see the Italian, as much as he had wanted too, standing right here, knowing Feliciano was behind him made him tremble. However, it was not merely a tremble of anger, but he was trembling in sadness and fear because he was scared of what he was going to do in such a vulnerable state.
Ludwig didn`t turn around but he managed to keep his posture straight except for the downwards tilt of his head."What gives you the right to even show up here?" He asks voice barely above a whisper but holding the venom of many days build up. His hands were clenched on either side of him and he had to continuously unclench them to keep them from ceasing up painfully.
There were so many things he wanted to say but right now, nothing would come out. Nothing except his disbelief that the Italian had actually bothered showing up here in this office after so many days. Ludwig had half a mind to turn around, he wanted to see the look of hurt adorn Feliciano's features, to know that he was not the only one hurting, that the decision to join the allies had not been something Feliciano had wanted to do willingly.
However, Ludwig knew Feliciano far too much. And, although maybe at first it hadn't been something the smaller man was keen on, he knew that it wouldn't be hard to convince him to sign the armistice, to agree to the terms even if they left the Italian brothers at a sligth disadvantage at the end of the war. Either way, his own mind was the one thing preventing him from turning around. It was his foil in this entire situation but a foil that he would hide behind so that Feliciano wouldn't know how much he had hurt him. Becuase that alone was a weakness he would rather keep to himself, one that he didn't want to share with anyone or that anyone deserved to be privy too. Gilbert had always taught him to be guarded and so had Roderich. Perhaps they hadn't said it directly but from the lessons he'd received from them and the clear facts within his history lessons, it was easy for Ludwig to come to such a conclusion.
Yet, it hadn't stopped the tall German from opening up to Feliciano. He had let the Italian in even though he had really tried not too, but it had felt nice and it had been a foreign feeling but one that he had actually liked. But now, that feeling, it had also betrayed him. It had lulled him into a false sense of security and things were slowly falling into place, making sense. The logic he should have seen at the beginning but had been drunk with a sense of stupidity, of guilessness, one that he couldn't afford as was proven just recently.
"Answer Feliciano because I don't have anymore time to waste with your childish stupidity. I should have known from the start....known that you would do this but I...i..." His voice wavered near the end, shaking. It had started out strong, loud even, and steady before even his tone became quiet, hurt. Ludwig paused swallowing hard and taking a few moments to compose himself. "I had trusted you."
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 19, 2013 13:27:41 GMT -5
Well… at least he hadn’t turned around and punched him. Or shouted for someone to come and arrest him…
Though he was beginning to wonder if a punch in the face would be preferable to what was happening right now. Ludwig hadn’t even turned to face him; and the way he spoke… God Feliciano could hear the malice in every word; he was sure now the man hated him.
The thought sent more pain through his heart than the Italian assumed should be normal, but he tried to keep it locked away, no weakness, and the only outward sign of his hurt was the way his eyes squeezed closed momentarily against the icy feeling in his gut.
“I’m here to explain myself.” The fear that he’d be attacked still bubbled beneath his skin, but he managed somehow to keep his voice fairly even, though the tone was one of abject misery he just couldn’t shake off.
He wondered then, if he should lock the door, to help with privacy should any of Ludwig’s soldiers come looking for him. Though on the other hand if this meeting turned particularly sour, he may need a quick getaway and fumbling with locks would be a hindrance he may not need. No… he couldn’t think that way of Ludwig. He may be angry, and hurt, but he is- was a friend. He wouldn’t harm him, right?
Feliciano took a hesitant, stiff legged step forward and noticed then; the trembles. They’d become worse, so much so that Feliciano could see the way the usually composed man shook from here. Was it just anger; or something else?
Had he witnessed such a countenance in Ludwig a few years ago, Feliciano would not have hesitated in rushing across the room and throwing his arms around him in order to provide some sort of comfort (whether the German would have wanted it or not). Now though… a hand that had risen as if to reach for Ludwig of its own accord was hastily pulled back again. He couldn’t do that, not when he’d hurt Ludwig so much.
Ludwig’s words cut through him all over again. ‘Stupid’, ‘childish’… he’d been called that plenty of times in the past, but never by Ludwig (at least never directly or with so much hatred behind the words). To his shame Feliciano felt eyes that had been dry since signing the armistice suddenly grow moist, and a lump form so solidly in his throat that he had to take a deep, shaking breath to dispel the sensation.
His own hands mirrored the German’s, clenching and unclenching as he fought for the right words in order to explain himself to a person who, when all was said and done, would probably hate him for the rest of their existence.
That knowledge nearly caused Feliciano’s knees to give way at the sheer bleakness of it…
Still he stayed standing and opened his mouth once or twice before words, strangely calm and quiet, could form.
“N-nothing… Nothing gives me the right, Ludwig. I was just hoping that, for the sake of our past friendship at least, you would be willing to hear me out.” He let his eyes fall closed once more, not wanting to see Ludwig’s face if he did turn around. It would be too much, and Feliciano knew he’d break down as pathetic as that seemed. “You have to understand that… t-this was for the best. Things are insane out there, it couldn’t carry on, it was wrong. People were suffering and- Ludwig I needed to think of my people as a whole. I needed some peace and to be able to live with myself after all this is over with.” The comforting blackness from behind his eyelids helped his frayed nerves, and his voice grew stronger, though no less apologetic. “I am sorry. Honestly I am. You’re the last person on the planet I’d want to hurt or offend. You’re my- my best friend and…” he paused for a moment. Did he still consider him a friend? Yes. Yes he did and he would until the end of time probably. Ludwig may hate him, but he couldn’t hate Ludwig. “I’m so sorry I did this and that you see it as betrayal… I know it is but- Ludwig I swear if there was another way to end it without hurting you I would have done.”
Feliciano stopped talking, unsure of what else to say; just hoping and praying he wasn’t about to be yelled at or completely cold-shouldered. The sadness and betrayal in Ludwig's last words about trusting him had left him devoid of breath and hope if he was honest with himself. He'd never wanted that. He'd wanted to be someone that Ludwig could always count on; if not for military prowess then at least for emotional support.
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 19, 2013 15:57:38 GMT -5
The thing was that Ludwig didn’t hate Feliciano, not one bit and although he was angry, this was hurting him just as much as it was the small Italian, or at least he imagined it was hurting the other. There was a moment of silence between them and he let the silence fall upon them as he took it in and composed himself as best as he could. It took him a few more minutes to convince himself to turn around because he couldn’t continue to keep his back towards the other. He had to see that Feliciano was as much of a mess as him to feel even the least bit alright with what was going on. In truth, he knew he would not take comfort in that, it was Feliciano’s smile that he liked to see and what was going on between them now, he would have never imagined it would occur.
Ludwig slowly turned himself around so he was facing the other. At first, he distracted himself by smoothing out the few wrinkles he had found in his fading uniform before he finally mustered the courage to let his gaze fall upon the Italian. His gaze was hard as he took in his former companion’s appearance making sure to catch every single detail.
If Feliciano thought he looked like hell, the man had clearly forgotten to check in the mirror this morning. The Italian’s uniform was faded, almost dirty on certain areas and his state of being screamed desperation, probably a look that Ludwig was also wearing.
He let the others words sink in, understanding, but not wanting to understand. If he could have taken an exit, he probably would have too. He shouldn’t blame Feliciano for such a logical move but he did and he would continue to do so because the action had hurt him and Ludwig didn’t like being hurt; especially hurt in a way that couldn’t be healed as easily as a scraped knee.
The peace Feliciano needed, Ludwig would never get because he knew what his fate would be once the allies found out about what had been occurring behind their backs. He should have been perfectly alright with the fact that Feliciano would still kind of preserver his innocence—an innocence that Ludwig was constantly tainting with his presences. Again, Ludwig swallowed hard. He needed to keep his resolve because he was the one who had been wronged.
“As allies we talk to each other, we try and help each other when things get hard.” He begins to speak up again, his voice still quite harsh. “That’s the point of an alliance Feliciano. If you’re having trouble your ally is there for you, you don’t go running to the enemy!” His voice begins to rise as he goes on.
“You didn’t even advise me! You didn’t even come to me to ask me what I thought or how I could help you! You turned your back on me and went and did your own thing!”
Ludwig paused wanting to let the words sink in. “You broke something that was supposed to be in both our benefits.”
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 19, 2013 16:36:44 GMT -5
The soft rustle of fabric alerted Feliciano to the fact that Ludwig was finally turning to face him, and so the Italian raised his head and opened his eyes properly in order to meet his gaze square on. He would not quail and shake under the German’s stare, they were friends, they were (until recently) allies, equals. He shouldn’t fear him. There was no reason to. Or at least he hoped that was the case anyway.
If Feliciano had surmised that he looked bad just from viewing his back, seeing his face again proved Feliciano’s hasty opinion to be true. Dark circles were evident under that serious blue glare, his hair looked almost brittle and had lost its shine; his skin was pale… and if Feliciano didn’t know any better he’d say the man had definitely lost weight since their last encounter.
Tension drew out between them like a bow-string ready to snap. All they could seemingly do for a few moments was stare at the other, something about this unnerved Feliciano slightly. Ludwig was not a man who wasted idle minutes with frivolous and needless actions. He was direct, to the point, and always had purpose. To just have him stood there apparently doing nothing was not something Feliciano was accustomed to witnessing.
What was he thinking?... Clearly the thoughts weren’t particularly friendly; that anger darkened his face and twisted his lips even if he tried to hide it. Still foolish hope coursed through his tangle of emotions, hope that by some miracle he would be forgiven, and although no longer allies the two of them would be able to remain close.
His hope really was foolish.
Any brightening in his appearance was quashed the moment Ludwig started to speak again. Feliciano shook his head in hopeless denial, eyes widening at the rising voice. That wasn’t the way it was at all! Of course it may seem like that to him but-
“L-Ludwig, I wanted to speak to you about it, I really did. I just- I couldn’t find the words. Then fratello arranged a meeting and- I-I didn’t go running to them!” His own voice raised an octave to make himself heard, though it held a definite tremor to it. He took a breath and forced himself to continue. “This is wrong and you know it. We were wrong, our leaders were-are completely mad! I had a chance to change things and I took it. I’m not sorry for that. What I am sorry for is for breaking your trust, for hurting you. Ludwig, you’re the closest friend I’ve ever had and I’d never want to do anything to ruin that…”
He ducked his head, chewing his lower lip for a moment or two in consternation, and when he spoke again his voice had fallen back into a hoarse, quiet like whisper. “I never meant to turn my back on you, and I certainly never meant to break your trust.”
He felt desperation start to gnaw away at him again. Ludwig was a logical man and he’d been sure he’d understand his predicament; but obviously the betrayal ran deeper than he thought. He wanted to meet Ludwig’s gaze again, wanted to see some forgiveness there, more than anything that foolish, affectionate part of him wanted to cling to the German in front of him and not let go. Feliciano could bring himself to do neither out of fear. If he looked up those blue eyes would probably still be filled with anger and distrust; if he moved to embrace the other he’d likely be pushed away for his troubles. He didn’t think his mangled emotions could take the strain of either scenario and so he stayed still, head bowed, wringing his hands in apprehension.
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 20, 2013 6:09:28 GMT -5
Ludwig had almost been taken back by the fact that Feliciano was, for once, meeting his gaze in such an unsavoury situation. Brown eyes stared firmly into his and as much as Ludwig wanted to keep his features schooled of expression, his brows ended up knitting together.
It was a fact that the tall man had lost weight. Supplies had been running short and there had been many instances that Ludwig had gone without eating to make sure that one of his soldiers would have at least something to fill their stomach. On top of the madness occurring in each part of Germany and now in Russia, it was a miracle he was holding together at all. It was also a clear sign of how far the Germans had fallen and how little else they had to go. If the allies could get a good look at Ludwig than they would know that it wouldn’t be much longer. A nation could only hold on so long before the government drove them to the ground.
That was the thing. How else was Ludwig going to see the situation than a clear act of betrayal when he had to hear from the radio that the Italian’s had surrendered. For most of the war Ludwig had to endure sharing his bed with the smaller man, unwillingly for the most part and being forced into embarrassing situations that still made him flush just thinking about them. Yet, those situations had all brought something more for him but now, looking at it now, with new lenses, those memories brought him more pain and suffering than he would care to admit.
“You wanted to speak to me about it?!” Ludwig snapped, Feliciano’s words evoking such a strong response from him. “I can’t remember a time you couldn’t find words, Feliciano! You’ve also had something to say, even when you shouldn’t have had anything to say but now, all of a sudden, when it comes to something serious, important really, you couldn’t find the words to tell me!”
Ludwig had not missed the tremor in Feliciano’s voice. It had almost been satisfying to hear.
“Well you did Feliciano. And you did a spectacular job at ruining it.”
Ludwig really tried to remain angry but at this point he just felt so exhausted, so drained and very much used. How could he deny that both their leaders were madmen when on more than one occasions Hitler had proven that theory right. If the sacrifice of not only his Jews, political dissidents, Roma’s and gay’s weren’t enough to convince him that the cause his men were fighting for was for a world that could only remain insane if they did win.
There was another part of Ludwig that wanted to yell that it wasn’t only about Feliciano. That he also had emotions and that right now, at this very moment, and also the moment the Italian had surrendered, Ludwig had needed him the most. He couldn’t handle what was going on behind closed doors alone anymore. Gilbert had been forced to fight in the east and Ludwig knew that the men sent to the east were essentially going on a suicide mission. He had experienced it firsthand but not to the extent that his older brother had. The same brother that he worried for but couldn’t even properly speak too because of die Fuhrer’s orders.
There were words that had been left unspoken such as ‘I needed you. I still need you.’ But his pride kept him from saying them almost finding it better to keep Feliciano at a distant.
“You were stupid to come here. You should have stayed with the allies because now I have no choice but to take you in as a political prisoner. I know you’ve directly worked with the allies and I can’t let you leave now for reasons I’m sure you understand.” Ludwig explained as he tried to keep his voice devoid of emotion, robotic even. He had had enough of emotions and this conversation had already gone far enough, wasted enough time.
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 20, 2013 14:41:15 GMT -5
Feliciano started and cringed at the clipped, harsh tone as if he’d been slapped. He should have known better than to have hoped for this to go anyway but badly. He shouldn’t have even come here today; but affection had driven him to at least try and patch up the tears he’d almost single-handedly created in their relationship. It was a fool’s dream…
“How could anyone have found the words to explain this, Ludwig?” He kept his rapidly blurring gaze on his own feet, his own trembling hands that were now clasped so tight his knuckles had paled and his nails were cutting into his skin. “I know you find it hard to believe, but I honestly wanted to let you know… to try and work something out; b-but you’re tied to your nation as am I… if I’d told you, you would have tried to stop me, you would have had to… A-and I know you think I’m being selfish, but I honestly was trying to think of you. I didn’t want to put you in that situation, or cause you more trouble-“
He trailed off, his voice having wavered the more he spoke, until it was barely understandable. He didn’t want to hear that, he didn’t want to know that Ludwig no longer considered him a friend.
To his embarrassment he could feel tears finally spill over onto his cheeks, and he tried to keep his breaths regulated so that Ludwig wouldn’t notice any of the subdued sobs he was trying his best to keep locked away behind clamped teeth and tight lips.
The slur of stupidity caused another small pang in his chest that he tried to ignore, and as he focused on Ludwig’s words, icy fear returned with such a force that it stole his breath.
Orders were orders, rules were rules and he really had been stupid to think he could come here and walk away unscathed or free. That left only three options; fight, flight, or surrender.
The first was completely rendered moot. He couldn’t do it. Even if there was a sliver of a chance of him beating the man in front of him; Feliciano couldn’t bring himself to do it. He knew he should; he knew that his brother probably would if he were in his shoes. But Feliciano couldn’t bear to hurt someone he still considered a dear friend.
The second option was plausible, fast as he was, but he couldn’t make his feet move. The pettiest part of his tattered pride wouldn’t let him run from this place, and he knew that it was also affection stilling his actions once more. If he left and someone found out he’d been here; Ludwig would be in trouble. For all the man had made it apparent that he hated Feliciano now, he just couldn’t stand the thought of Ludwig being punished for something that wasn’t his fault. Hadn’t he hurt him enough already without indirectly being the cause for military discipline?
The third… the third option scared him more than any other but seemed strangely inviting. He was used to surrendering after all, the bitterness of that fact wrapped around his head, cloying and taunting, sticky as a spider-web. He was a failure so why not fail some more?
Taking another shaky breath, Feliciano lifted dull eyes, still wet with tears to focus on Ludwig once more. He nodded despondently, mumbling quietly; his voice just as wooden and devoid of life as Ludwig’s own. “Si, Ludwig, I understand very well.”
A small thought tickled the back of his mind as he stood there awaiting whatever fate Ludwig had planned for him, and Feliciano blinked slowly as if waking… He couldn’t just let everything end like this… He had to say what he’d planned to say from the beginning. Just as important as the apology had been; this too he couldn’t just leave unsaid.
Though it hurt, though it probably looked almost caricature with his cheeks still wet with tears, and his body now trembling with untapped fear; Feliciano smiled. The biggest grin he could muster, lips tremulous but stubbornly holding the upward curve required to appear happy.
“I-if this is it then… if this is what you want and what you need to do… If- if we’ll never see one another after this… I just wanted to say thank you first.” He fought back another sob and forced himself to continue, pouring every ounce of fondness and honest sincerity into every word. It was the truth after all. He’d wanted to tell Ludwig how much he appreciated him for a long time; but as with the explanation of his betrayal he’d just never found the right words. “Grazie mille, Ludwig. F-for always helping me, for putting up with all my stupid antics, for trusting me and staying by my side when most others would have cut all ties from me. Y-you’ve done so much and I know I was the biggest thorn in your side all this time, but I’m so grateful, really I am. I'm so glad I met you, t-that we were friends… I know it means nothing now, and I know you’ll never want to look at or speak with me again after all this- but I’ll always consider you my best friend… that’s alright isn’t it?”
Unable to keep the heartbroken grin in place any longer, Feliciano let his head droop again to hide how the smile slid from his face and distracted himself by rubbing at his eyes furiously with his sleeve. At least he'd managed to say it. Even if Ludwig still hated him, he'd managed to let him know how grateful he was, and that made capture worth it.
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 21, 2013 10:39:34 GMT -5
Ludwig had never been able to handle when Feliciano cried. It had been something he was just not accustomed to nor was it something he himself had experienced on any real occasion. He was aware that people cried, that even he cried but that was different because it was something that he didn`t have to see or something that he could experience on his own. There was never anyone else and never anyone he needed to comfort. However, the crying Feliciano he was used too was far from the crying Feliciano that currently stood in front of him and these tears caused his chest to constrict painfully. It was as if a belt had been fastened around his heart and someone was trying to latch it onto the last hole knowing full well that the heart was too big to fit the circumference.
As much as Feliciano was trying to keep his sobs concealed Ludwig`s ears and eyes were too keen to not catch on to the slight tremble of the shoulders and the way Feliciano's chest heaved with an erratic breath forcing something back that should not be forced back. The anger that had consumed him moments earlier was slowly being subdued and Ludwig had half a mind to reach out to the smaller man but managed to curb the urge. He remained still, studying Feliciano as he felt guiltier for causing this type of reaction from the smaller man.
The hardness of his features softened a fraction when brown bloodshot eyes met his blue ones and the voice was off...it didn`t sound like Feliciano at all. Actually, it was a tone he had never heard on the man and he could only conclude that he was at fault for producing such a lifeless response from such a lively individual. He never wanted to hear it again, not ever.
At the agreement Ludwig took the first step forward but froze when Feliciano all of a sudden began to smile. He grew tense again, his eyes panicked as if he had broken the Italian in front of him. His arms fell lifelessly to his sides as he straightened his posture. For a quick second, Ludwig had almost thought that this was all a trap, that Feliciano had been sent here by the allies to capture him. He would be lying if he said that fear hadn`t shot through him at that very moment but it was Feliciano`s next words that calmed him, well, calmed him enough to know that what he had thought was far from the truth. He couldn’t help but feel a little foolish for thinking Feliciano capable of such an action.
Blond brows knitted together once again when he heard the words thank you tumble from Feliciano`s lips. But, what he couldn`t understand was why the other was thanking him...especially now, after all the harsh and mean things he had said to the other. Thanking him should have been the last thing on Feliciano`s mind. This was something that Ludwig was not prepared for, not at all, actually he would have never expected to find himself in a situation like this and now he didn`t know what to do. He let the words sink in, the magnitude of what was being said taking it`s time to really hit home but when it did Ludwig could feel his eyes prickle at the sincerity of Feliciano’s words. No one had ever said that to him and especially not after being yelled at for being dishonest and indirectly calling said individual a traitor.
Ludwig swallowed hard. His anger was nearly gone and in its place were confusion, pain and above all guilt. He should have been more understanding but he had become too self-absorbed. He had completely ignored the needs of his ally and focused solely on his own which also showed how bad of a friend he had become. There was no way he could accept these words. They felt wrong but at the same time they also felt nice as if he had done something right, for once, in this war. However, Ludwig didn`t trust himself to speak. He knew if he opened his mouth, his voice would crack and everything he had worked hard to maintain would crumble in front of him. He was a broken man but he needed to continue acting like he was well put together, like he still knew what he was doing.
He wanted to shout at Feliciano. He wanted to tell the Italian that it meant the world to him and it would always mean the world to him. Their friendship had just hit a rough patch but it would be okay. The word hate was the opposite of how Ludwig felt for Feliciano and he almost wished he could explain it. Tell him that the way he was reacting now was because he cared deeply for Feliciano, that the Italian was one of the first people to hurt him like this...that he`d never let anyone in this close. Yet, there was something stopping him again. It was like a frog had gotten caught in his throat or he had forgotten how to speak.
The anger continued to subside yet he began to tremble again. It was impossible to be angry after such a display and although Ludwig wanted to refer to is as a sort of confession, he had known all this time. Feliciano had made it obvious that he appreciated Ludwig. And yet, Ludwig had never really made an effort to make his feelings known, not really. He had occasionally told the smaller man that he did care for him and that they would always be friends but what was he doing now? He was doing the exact opposite. He had just said that Feliciano had ruined what little was left of their friendship and it was now something he was regretting.
Ludwig’s gaze was wide and his eyes almost watery but no tears spilled. He couldn’t afford to cry, not here, not ever. That’s how he had been raised, to keep emotions to himself, or at least, that’s how he remembered being raised.
“Feliciano…” His voice is low, sad and once again uncertain of what he was doing. Ludwig runs a hand through his hair with a sigh as he takes a few more minutes to think over his next actions. Gott, he was stupid.
When had he become so cruel?
He actually didn’t want to know, he feared what kind of answer he would receive and it would remind him that the reflection in the mirror was not the man he thought he was at all. He had been raised better than that but he was proving to be a failure to his teachings.
Ludwig doesn’t give himself any more time to talk as he takes the last few steps forward, he’s steadied his trembling body and he lifts his arm gently encircling the small Italian and pulling him forward so he was pressed against his chest. It was the first time in a while he had been the first to initiate but he couldn’t think of a more appropriate moment as he tightened his grip around Feliciano. He went quiet again giving the other some time to calm himself and to give himself some time to calm down too before he gently began patting down the hair at the back of Feliciano’s head.
“It is alright…” He answers softly. There was still a bit of pain in his voice but for a different reason now. “I-I’m sorry Feliciano…” Ludwig takes in a deep breath trying to get the right words out. “I shouldn’t have let my anger control me like that...” Not that he wasn’t still a little hurt by the surrender but he was letting himself understand rather than ignoring the obvious facts which he wasn’t usually prone in doing. It had been easier being angry but he liked this much better…he didn’t want Feliciano to remember him as some kind of monster. That would be the only image he would be seen in after this war, he was sure so at least for this moment he could be exactly who he wanted to be without influence from his insane government.
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 21, 2013 15:31:11 GMT -5
The silence was deafening, save for the single step forward Ludwig had taken and the erratic pounding of his heart. With his head still bowed to try and save face in front of the stern German man, Feliciano could not tell what inner turmoil his former ally seemed to be having. All he knew was that any moment Ludwig would likely grasp his arm and drag him off to be taken prisoner by his fellow soldiers. He had resigned himself to that fact, but it didn’t make the thought anymore pleasant.
He’d be in trouble with the allies now too. He’d gotten himself caught by the enemy and he doubted they’d be pleased to hear of him becoming a burden already. Still, it was a grim sort of satisfaction that at least if he was tortured for information he’d have little to none to give. Perhaps the wily Englishman had foreseen this happening; but Arthur hadn’t let Feliciano be privy to many of their plans for the war. In fact Romano had been given more information than he had. This was probably for the best given the circumstances he was facing now. He just couldn’t afford to betray anyone else.
The low, sad murmur of his name pulled Feliciano from his reverie, and he dragged his gaze from the floor in order to rest on Ludwig’s features again. The emotions he saw in those blue eyes startled him, chasing away some of the misery in favour of perplexity. In the short time since he’d lowered his eyes, the heated anger displayed there previously had all but vanished. Instead Ludwig appeared remorseful; confused and pained in a way that made Feliciano slant his head almost curiously. Why was he sad, and why so suddenly? … He was trembling again too.
This didn’t sit well with the Italian; friend or foe, no matter the person, Feliciano hated to see anyone upset. His eyes flicked over the face in front of him, and he wetted his lips in nervous preparation to ask what was wrong.
Instead of a question; all that emerged was a startled squeak as Ludwig crossed the room to stand directly in front of him in a few short strides. Feliciano tensed, half expecting to be grabbed or even struck, but his fear dissipated into mystification as Ludwig’s arms encircled him and pulled him against his chest.
This was… but didn’t he hate him? Didn’t he think him a traitor, a coward, a burden? Why was he hugging him?
A string of curious Italian threatened to spill from his lips, but he held his tongue, not wanting to do or say anything that might provoke Ludwig’s anger to resurface again.
Slowly, understanding seeped into his mind. Ludwig may very well still be angry, he probably hadn’t forgiven him yet… but this proved without a shadow of a doubt one thing; Ludwig didn’t hate him. He still cared for him.
That revelation caused a funny little sound; half sob, half chuckle to catch in Feliciano’s throat. Hesitantly, almost afraid he’d break whatever peace had fallen over then, Feliciano brought his own arms up to wrap around Ludwig’s broad back and returned the embrace.
Gradually, his breathing began to lose that tearful, shaky quality and even out, his heartbeat slowed to something resembling a normal easy pace, and the sensation of a gentle hand petting his hair was enough to bring the first true smile to Feliciano’s lips in weeks.
That smile grew marginally at Ludwig’s next words. 'It is alright'? He still wanted him as a friend! This knowledge made a happy flush tinge Feliciano’s cheeks and he nuzzled against the crook of Ludwig’s neck, speech muffled by the coarse material of his uniform as he mumbled a quiet reply. “S’alright… I would’ve been angry too if I were in your shoes.”
The memory of that anger seemed strangely far away despite only happening mere moments ago, the reminder of it forced him to breathe deeply again in order to calm himself; the clean scent of Ludwig’s clothes aiding the calming effect more than he thought possible.
His grip tightened and Feliciano let his eyelids close reflexively as he relaxed. The warmth of the presence around him was having an almost soporific affect on the emotionally drained Italian. Another lazy smile tilted his lips.
He knew this moment couldn’t last and would be bitter-sweet. It was still technically a goodbye, and Ludwig still had to arrest him, but he allowed himself to push such matters aside for just a minute or two more. Whatever happened from this moment on, at least he’d have this memory. And he’d know that when the war finally came to an end, Ludwig would hopefully be willing to speak with him again and then he could attempt to mend the bonds broken between them.
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 22, 2013 12:21:59 GMT -5
Ludwig was glad and a little surprised that Feliciano hadn’t questioned his actions. This allowed him to easily relax into the embrace as he took his time trying to enjoy probably the last time they’d be able to be close likes this in a very long time from now. “Ja, it is.” He replies shivering lightly when his neck is nuzzled, having always been sensitive to touches of that nature.
He could feel Feliciano’s grip tighten around him and it was at that moment that he knew this would have to stop. It didn’t help that he was hearing voices becoming louder and louder as they seemed to be nearing the office Ludwig had closed himself off in before he was joined by a small trespassing Italian. Ludwig instinctively tightened his hold before slowly releasing Feliciano until he had the man an arm’s length away. His blue gaze studied the face in front of him as if he were trying to memorize every feature just in case this was the last time they would ever see each other again. It certainly felt like it but as long as he didn’t disappear at the end of this war, Ludwig was sure they would have to cross paths at least once more.
It was hard to tell how the world would be twenty years from now but the German could only hope it would be nothing like it is now. His expression was still quite serious, a lot more tired than when Feliciano had first arrived but slightly brighter at the same time, as long as you were looking at his eyes not his facial expression. “You really shouldn’t have come here, Feliciano….” He repeats seriously as he glances at the door but doesn’t release Feliciano’s arms.
His mind is quickly calculating and weighing the pros and cons of several courses of action that he could take if need be. The voices became incredibly loud, as if they were standing right in front of the door before once again they started to fade. Apparently, there was no interest in this office and no one was looking for him. Those were two advantages on his part but still not enough to get either of them out of here if that was what he ultimately wanted to do.
Then, another part of him not only wanted to follow orders and protocols but also keep Feliciano here for a little bit longer, so that he could look over him and make sure he was fine. It was a strange thought but one that had probably also help stem his anger prior to his encounter. “Don’t talk, don’t say anything. If you’re quiet this will be a lot easier for you.” He explains making sure that Feliciano has understood his instructions.
“I’m going to walk you out of here without any struggle and I’ll try to get you to a comfortable place while we’re here.” Ludwig pauses, he wasn’t sure how long Feliciano would become his war prisoner or what would happen to him the longer he stays with Ludwig. If this was to last for the rest of the war, Ludwig even doubted he’d be able to convince Berlin into letting him keep Feliciano and making the Italian his responsibility. And, especially so if he were sent somewhere else to fight.
There would be no sure way Ludwig would be able to protect Feliciano if he remained a prisoner of war. Ludwig pushed these thoughts to the back of his mind, he would think about them later. Right now he needed to compose himself (even though really that idea had been shot a long time ago). “Understood?”
|
|
|
Post by North Italy on May 22, 2013 13:48:14 GMT -5
Feliciano allowed his mind to drift for a little while; merely taking comfort in the embrace and trying to let every care, every worry, and every thought disappear from his mind. He knew all too well that he wouldn’t be able to afford such simple luxuries once his was taken prisoner. So he revelled in the last chance of being care-free for probably a long time to come.
Voices pulled him reluctantly back to reality, and he screwed his eyes shut, frowning, almost irritated at whoever was walking down the hallway and interrupting this moment. He hid his face in Ludwig’s jacket as if the action might hide him away somehow. The brief tightening of Ludwig’s arms soothed his temper and then Feliciano found himself pushed out to an arm-length away from the man, but still Ludwig held onto him.
He knew what this meant. It was time to stop and face the inevitable. A sad little sigh pushed its way to his lips, but was never released as he finally noticed the way he was being studied so closely by the German. Those piercing eyes were scrutinizing him so carefully, and although not a shy person by nature, the attention caused him to blush for reasons he couldn’t explain.
The fact that this may be the last time he’d get to see and interact with Ludwig properly hadn’t escaped him, and taking the cue from his former ally, Feliciano too made sure to commit to memory every feature of his friend. He reached out, awkwardly as a firm grip was still on his arms, oddly warm and reassuring, and fiddled with the German’s neat hair. A silly little gesture so he’d recall how it felt, his lips instinctively tugging up in amusement despite the seriousness of the situation… Those cursed voices were definitely getting louder.
It wasn’t lost on him that Ludwig’s eyes seemed just a little brighter than when he’d first entered, and he was glad that his expression had changed. Letting his smile grow Feliciano chuckled softly as he answered Ludwig’s statement. “Hmm you’re right I shouldn’t have, but since when have I ever done anything sensible?”
His words sounded care-free, almost teasing, but he was still holding himself tense. The voices just on the other side of the door were making his heart-rate race once more. If they were discovered…
Feliciano finally let out a sigh of relief as his concerns was finally laid to rest and the footsteps and voices from beyond the door grew fainter as they moved away.
In the next instant his eyes catch Ludwig’s again and he listens carefully to the instructions given. Nodding once or twice, Feliciano lets the words sink into his mind. He was taking him prisoner of course… but he was going to try and make things easy for him? The soft shivers that had started to crawl down his spine at the prospect of capture lessened, and Feliciano let a warm smile steal over his face.
“I understand…” This time those words were not devoid of life, they were soft and almost grateful in tone. He let his right hand move up and onto Ludwig’s own, letting it rest there momentarily. Ludwig was still holding onto his arms… Was it just to stop him from running; or a friendly touch? Either way Feliciano didn’t seem to mind. “I trust you, Ludwig.”
|
|
|
Post by Germany on May 22, 2013 14:34:50 GMT -5
Ludwig had been staring at the door when he felt fingers fiddling with his hair. His brows slowly began to knit together as his lips thinned forming a straight line. The action had felt nice but it was certainly not the time for that. Then again, Ludwig would never think it was the time for fiddling with other people’s hair. “Feliciano, bitte. This is not something you should take lightly.” He says chastising him for the simple action before nodding when it was clear the smaller man understood his instructions.
A part of him couldn’t help but be glad that the liveliness had returned to his voice and the former tone of desperation was gone. He hadn’t let go of his companion and it isn’t until he feels a soft hand rest against his bigger one that he pauses, his gaze shifting to the brief touch. He doesn’t make a move to pull his hand free and lets the warm heat of Feliciano’s hand warm him.
Ludwig’s eyes flicker up to meet Feliciano’s gaze at the man’s next words. They seemed a little bewildered that the Italian would put so much trust into him after what had just happened. He gives Feliciano a pathetic smile before pulling one hand free and with the other one turning the smaller man around so that his back was facing Ludwig’s chest. He readjusts his grip on Feliciano, so it looks like he’s carrying a prison, before pulling him back against him and using his free hand to open the door.
The corridor was mostly empty. There was no one in sight and really all that decorated it were lavished paintings and a few side tables with vases of flowers on them. The sun’s rays had managed to illuminate the dreary feeling corridor but with the tinted windows it didn’t allow in too much light. Ludwig kept Feliciano close as he began to lead the smaller male along the path the voices had retreated in.
The further they went from the room, the more occupied the areas became. Soldiers would occasionally stop their work to steal a glance at Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt and Feliciano, who several of them recognized surprisingly enough. What seemed to surprise them the most was the fact that Ludwig didn’t seem as angry as he had the past couple of months. There was a calmness to him, probably one they should have been afraid of but couldn’t really be.
“Generalfeldmarschall Beilschmidt.” A soldier saluted him stopping right in front of the two, his expression just as grim and serious as Ludwig’s. It looked as if nothing was really going well for the Germans. Most of everyone looked particularly serious whereas before there had been joking and laughing and signs of life.
“I assume you want us to prepare an area to lock him in.” The man continued.
Ludwig had tensed when they had arrived in the room and he hadn’t quite relaxed yet, even though these were his men. “A room at the top floor, the office at the end of the hall. We can use that as a holding cell for now, until we move.” Ludwig speaks up, his tone far from pleased.
“Shall we take him up for you?” The soldier asks as he eyes Feliciano curiously.
“I can take him up myself. Just make sure it’s ready for when I arrive.” With that said and done, Ludwig begins to lead Feliciano to the stairs, the ones that are always empty so that it would at least give his men time to ready the room and also give them some privacy. However, once again, he kept his hold on the smaller man.
|
|