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Post by Germany on Jul 2, 2013 20:17:55 GMT -5
The suffocation whether he was outside or not felt like four walls and a ceiling were slowly caving in on him. It was much like listening to the seconds hand on a clock tick as it made its round to signal the end of a minute. However, the minutes accumulated and no matter how much Ludwig wanted to be crushed, wanted the pain he was feeling inside of him to go away, it remained. It stayed with him from sunrise to sun fall and during the night…which was far worse than reality; he relived the horrors his own people inflicted against kin and even neighbours.
The thought of what he had allowed happen made him sick. However, what made him even sicker was the reminder that there had been points that he had actually been okay with what had been going on. He had been okay with the extermination of his people….his innocent people. Ludwig couldn’t lie. He had known from the start what the Third Reich had been planning and executing and as much as he wanted to say he had forced himself into denial, there was only so much lying you could do before the truth began to slowly creep back into a person’s line of vision.
The Nuremberg Trials had been just that, it had brought it all back to light and there was even less of a way to escape the looks of horror that were being aimed his way. The shame that consumed him….the reminder that he had been capable of something so barbaric….so unnatural and so uncouth amplified the feeling of complete worthlessness that he had been feeling close to the end of the war. The worst part was watching Herr Goering sitting in those stands as if he were the ruler of the room and who truly believed he had done no wrong. Watching him sit through the trail and not only exhume the arrogance of being revered for so many years but also convince the rest of the convicted men that they were only wrong because they had lost.
How much more twisted could a person get….and the sad part of it all was he had come from Ludwig…he had been German and he was representing, in some twisted way, the German people. Herr Goering was a strange representation of what Ludwig could easily become again if time and circumstances led him back down that dark and power hungry path.
At the end of that day, when the trail was coming to a close only to commence again tomorrow, Ludwig had managed to escape behind the building trying hard to keep everything in but failing and emptying the contents of his stomach completely until he was dry heaving and then panting trying to keep from breaking apart. He had wanted to stay strong but he had been so defeated and disgusted with himself on top of holding all that in for so long, it had all come out at once. He had been left trembling and slowly composing himself before he had re-entered the trail room as if nothing had happened earlier. An impassive mask coming over his features once again, as he had been so well trained to adorn in his youth.
However, that had not been the worse of his cowardice. He had allowed his brother to take the worse of the punishment. Again, he could feel another chip chisel away at the weakening resolve to keep strong. Gilbert should not have been placed in Ivan’s care…that was the one place he wouldn’t have wished on any of his enemies let alone his brother, one of the people he loved the most. Ludwig still yearned to replace his brother’s position, actually, he just wanted to know that Gilbert was alive because right after the war had ended Gilbert had disappeared and all Ludwig was told was that the Prussian was under Russian custody, as if the man had been a street urchin in need of a guardian. Then again, it wasn’t too far from the truth after the Fuhrer had dissolved his bother’s state leaving Gilbert with nothing but a nation that were slowly thinking themselves solely as Germans rather than Prussians as well. Ludwig had essentially brought about his own brother’s destruction…and another weight was added to his already weighted down shoulders. The strain on his back was one that he knew was imaginary but hurt and even though he suffered he continued burying himself in his work, trying to detach himself from reality as best as he could and keep the allies at a distance, no matter their persistent need to help.
Ludwig looked worse for wear. He looked much thinner and a lot paler as well as fragile. His frame still gave out the impression that he was a very strong man, with his large shoulders and tall stature, however, it was something about him mentally that emphasized on his breakability. Or rather, that he would soon break and instead of rebuilding his buildings, government and economy, they would have to rebuild his moral and his mind.
That was why Ludwig did need someone to look over his shoulder at all times. Even if he would have preferred complete isolation to having not only one allied power but three constantly cycling in to make sure he wasn’t about to start World War III, even if that was so far from his capabilities considering what they had rendered his people too. It was good that they were coming in or else they wouldn’t have noticed how much Ludwig had mentally decayed since the end of the war and especially the end of the trials.
His life had become monotonous and he had buried himself in helping rebuild the cities that had been obliterated due to endless bombing. Berlin needed the most work and whenever he had to venture the streets it pained him to what the once prestigious city had been reduced too. It was also a clear image of what the inside of his mind looked like and although Berlin was physically being fixed Ludwig needed a fixing crew in his head, one that could repair the damage he was so convinced was irreparable.
1947
XX Day XX Month
The small barrack like accommodation was the only thing Ludwig had been given as place of residence. He still technically had his old home, the one he had built at the beginning of the 20th century but it was under allied occupation and he had no access to it neither any permission to go visit it to check if it was being taken care of properly. His new place held a bed, small bathroom facility and a desk with a chair. There was a guard that let him in and out during the allocated time agreed on by the allies.
He had little of privacy and even at home Ludwig found work to do. In the morning, he was up at five and was allowed out by six and only returned home by six pm where he was left the rest of the night to do as he pleased in the confines of his flat.
It was currently seven pm and Ludwig was hunched over his desk scribbling words he couldn’t even focus on, on several documents he had been allowed to bring home with him. His face was emotionless; it was devoid of emotion however, his eyes were the complete opposite. They were looking glasses into the very depth of Ludwig’s soul, one he believed he no longer had after the events that had just finished transpiring, and as much as he wanted to hide what he was truly thinking, it was portrayed clear as day within his blue orbs. The one aspect about himself that had betrayed his secrecy and need to suffer on his own to the very people he would have rather stay in the dark concerning his emotional state.
Ludwig wanted to be left alone…
((Alright, so....I left it very general. If you want me to add to it, just let me know, if you don't, I'm okay with that too. Sorry this took so long....I should have honestly wrote it when I had the idea in my head. But finally! It's here. We can flesh things out later if we need too to. ))
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Wien bleibt Wien
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Post by Austria on Jul 3, 2013 5:26:11 GMT -5
June 1947
Roderich regretted that he did not his front door violently enough to smack the Russian's nose to the point of severe bleeding.
Though he simply did not have enough power to do so; he had been sustaining with the so-called starvation diet for the past year, and recently his daily ration had been reduced from two meals to one potato per day. Technically he would not die, and people would do what was needed to prevent him from withering, though secretly he desired death especially upon seeing the Russian's face, the man who addressed him as "comrade" and insisted that rationing was much more advanced than capitalistic distribution.
He thought the Russian came by to demand special service or to inform him about complete halt of food ration, which he did not mind, but he did not expect the Russian to be brainless enough to ask this very person, whom he personally declared as Nazi's foremost victim, to attend to the German's emotional needs. On top of the 35% national budget feeding the brainless Allies soldiers for occupation, as well as the USIA and the complete elimination of food assistance, Roderich should have realised earlier that there was nothing that the Russian was not shameless enough to ask for.
If anything, it would be the Allies' fault to implement guilt onto Ludwig without knowing when to stop. So many options that could have done to provide comfort to the German, they chose to dissolv-
Let's not go into that.
It was undeniable, however, that Roderich could somewhat identify with the Allies' position to ask Roderich for a counseling session, regardless of the inherent ironic nature of the requirement. He had witnessed the mental breakdown of Ludwig after the Great War that were closely linked to the overall dissatisfaction of German speaking people against the Allies, ultimately becoming one of the many catalysts of the second war. With the three western imbeciles, Francis in particular, they could potentially mistreat Ludwig and repeat the same historical error.
Indeed, it was true that no one else in Europe, other than himself, could understand the German better. Thus Roderich obliged to go, under escort of the Red Army soldiers, to fly directly into West Berlin. Though Roderich would rather have the Allies leave him alone to resolve the irony of very nature of the renounced political union. It was too much trouble to meet Ludwig - what was he supposed to say to him after an awkward two years, "How are you doing recently", "I have not had a meal for the last few days", "I apologise for switching my official position to an anti-Nazi status", or "how is the reconstruction"?
It was a terribly humble flat that Ludwig was relocated into, Roderich noted to himself. The condition was even worse than the house he currently lived in, which was slightly bombed but spacious and functional. He had a general idea from the Allies that Ludwig had been acting rather moody lately, but no further information was given. That was not enough to diagnose, and upon arriving at the flat Roderich still did not have the slightest idea on what to begin, other than trying to make the German not keeping everything to himself. The French soldier unlocked the door and allowed him in, and the Austrian thanked politely in French, but did not mean it.
Roderich noticed the German hunching over his desk at the corner as he glanced around the interior of the flat, which was modest, clean, and exceptionally organised, albeit soulless. The owner clearly was not attached to this shelter. The front door was closed silently, leaving the Austrian alone to accomplish the job.
"...Ludwig," He decided to speak first in a commanding voice, cutting off any possible objection from Ludwig, who should have noticed him by now. "Now you are wondering why am I here, and probably are going to tell me that you wish to be left alone and not be seen. The Allies asked me to be here." It had been two full years and Roderich felt quite awkward in finding the right way to say, thus he walked over to the desk, trying to see Ludwig better inside this dark room. His face was very unmoved, as usual; that part had not changed. His eyes, however, reflected a certain mental state that produced a very strangely familiar combination to Roderich. He had seen such empty yet complicated expression before...
Oh, he had seen the blond in this mental state before - just not under the same set of memories and disposition. The memories were altered and personalities were different, yet the very German essence did not change. The last time Roderich encountered this type of moodiness, he chose the course of inaction due to the restriction of social hierarchy and court etiquette. He regretted not offering consultation, not providing a way to release emotion. The ending was not very pleasing, to say the very least.
"Ludwig..." His voice turned soft and pleading. "Are you thinking that by reflecting and keeping to yourself, war criminals will receive their share of punishment, de-Nazification will complete, militarism will be over, and economy will be recovered naturally?" He thought of the blond boy looking depressed after a failed Reichreform, a program that was mostly out of the boy's own control.
"Are you thinking that you could have changed something to revert the situation?" He thought of the blond boy taking most of the toll on behalf of the Hapsburg for the Catholic loss in the Thirty Years War, which was, again, mostly a widespread ducal trend that could not be reverted. He thought of the blond boy deeming most of the failures as the direct result of his feebleness, when the problem was more on rebellious, sovereign duchies and a weak Austria in promoting centralisation.
"Are you thinking that by being alone, you will eventually solve all problems like a philosopher, rationality triumphing over sentiment?" He thought of the later years when his emperor abandoned the blond boy to die on the battlefield. Roderich had no clue how the blond boy felt, but it was very likely that at his last breath, the blond boy still felt that he could have done better to strengthen himself.
And he thought of himself not even treating or supporting Heinrich or Ludwig warmly for once. He was just.... so cold, ceremonial, and perhaps, impersonal.
Those two seldom share their very own pain and joy to others, always keeping stress to themselves, accumulating pain and agony over the time. Eventually the bubble burst, harming the surroundings, and the self-conflicting process would repeat and repeat again, just like a permanent curse of the history of the Germanic empire.
"Don't, Ludwig. Don't keep the emotion to yourself." The image of Heinrich dominated Roderich's mind, to a point where he actually had an illusion of Ludwig in Heinrich's old black cloak, with the identical fearful eyes. "Don't let history repeat itself any longer."
"From year 962 till this day, has there been a century when you could at least enjoy a moment of peace? Why must you shoulder such responsibility and agony? I once had a hopeful thought after unification that, perhaps under someone else's guidance would the poor boy of Holy Roman Empire finally get rid of the curse of tumultuous childhood and grow up healthily, eventually emerging as a stable power in Europe? ...How wrong I was. My very own people ended up dragging you into lethal wars. Not once, but twice."
A drop of tear fell down from the corner of his eye. Roderich was summoned here to help opening up Ludwig's heart, yet ironically, he was the one in need to open up first. Centuries of not opening up to neither Heinrich nor Ludwig tolled up, and his sense of guilt overflowed his emotion.
He was about to say some more, but that was too much. Gilbert was gone, and Elizaveta was under complete Soviet control; with only one person left in this continent whom he felt personal with, should he still maintain silly personal distance and manners? Ignoring all forms of objection, Roderich wrapped around Ludwig's body and embraced this body tightly for the first time of his life.
It really is just Roderich ended up being very emotional after 2 years of not seeing any of his close associates. How he hated the Russians.
Well, perhaps he witnessed the dissolution of Prussia (a few headcanons of mine) and he might have talked to Gilbert, but the scene wasn't exactly healing.
There is one action I really really really want Roderich to do to Ludwig, but I guess that's too much for one post, so I will just skip it...
I kind of allowed Roderich to just keep speaking, and defaulting what Ludwig would do during it. The lines might seem very long, but actual time should be minus all the thoughts, so actual speaking time should be less than 1.5 minutes (with the hug it is around 2 minutes). If there are any specific parts you find inappropriate, please let me know so I can fix it!
And hopefully this is more than enough to work with.
See you next morning : 3
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Post by Germany on Jul 14, 2013 19:03:47 GMT -5
The recompensation for the families affected by the atrocious acts done under the Third Reich will take effect on XX, XX, 19XX.
Signed.
The new German state will be responsible for the creation of a memorial to the victims of the Holocaust, as well as a monthly fee to help with the creation of a Jewish state.
Signed.
Ludwig had vaguely heard the loud moan of the door as it opened and a subtle French thank you that did not belong to the French voice he was accustomed to hearing. He didn’t say anything, he never really did anyway and this time, even though the voice was familiar, he remained quiet – signing more documents. Documents that were screaming at him and continuously labeling him a monster and although they were documents to help him repent, they outlined every one of his crimes as if it were a shopping list.
When he heard his name, he instinctively tensed. The pen in his hand going rigidly still as he clenched it almost angrily but lacking the anger that was supposed to go with it. It was evident that he knew Roderich was there, but he really didn’t want the man to be here or around him at all. Especially not after what he had done to the Austria in 1938. Ludwig ignored the fact that Roderich’s people had been more than happy with his people’s appearance but apparently that had been the complete opposite according to Francis. The Austrian’s hadn’t been willing and it had all been an act, one that left him in more pain than he would have thought.
Roderich had taught him a lot of what he knew and although the man had been cold for the most part there was a bond he had with him that Ludwig couldn’t quite explain.
Ludwig did want Roderich to leave. He didn’t want the man to be here and he especially didn’t need a pity talk from a man Ludwig had wronged, horribly. He remained where he was seated and for a second it looked as if he were going to get up but instead he hunched over even more and continued signing documents. However, that was short lived when he heard the man step closer until Roderich had a clear view of his face and as much as Ludwig wanted to keep his gaze on his papers, he couldn’t help lift it to look at a face he had thought he’d never see for a long time. His jaw clenched instinctively and he tore his gaze away from the Austrian’s as he fixed it to the wall in front of him. His posture shifting so he was sitting straight and his hands were resting on the desk but nothing else.
It was the Austrian’s words that struck many cords within him. Everything the man was saying held some sort of truth to the inner turmoil within his mind. He wanted everything to do with the Nazis to just disappear, to be forgotten so that his biggest mistake would be erased. He knew that wouldn’t be the best way of dealing with things because learning from past mistakes kept a person from repeating them. What happened these past years, it was important to remember them and Ludwig knew that as much as he hated to admit it.
Militarism…
That was another point that was iffy for Ludwig because since his existence he had been trained and built for battle. The thought process one needed to properly strategize was something that Ludwig revelled in. He loved it. And now, well, now was really no different, however, he was really forcing himself to forget it. There would be no more wars, not one provoked by him anyway.
Roderich’s words continued and Ludwig listened albeit reluctant because his solitude had been breached but he gave the man the respect he should have given him from 1938. However, he did think by being alone things would sort out and that he’d be able to figure out what he needed to do and how he could help himself. It hadn’t quite worked in the past but these were changed times.
“From year 962…”
If it was at all possible Ludwig went even more rigidly still then before. He had not been in existence at that year…what was Roderich going on about?
“…the poor boy of Holy Roman Empire…”
Ludwig was shaking. What was the meaning of all this…and…how…
He swallowed a large lump that had formed in the back of his throat as he turned his head to look at Roderich. The look of utter pain that had mixed into the desperation and self-loathing that had been radiating from Ludwig’s eyes was clear, as clear as his crystalline eyes. His eyes stung and the worst part was watching a tear fall from Roderich’s usually composed features.
Technically, Ludwig should be angry—furious that this had been kept from him for so many years. As a boy he had been plagued with nightmares he never truly understood. They were things that seemed so real and yet when he had brought it up it had been disregarded as mere childish creativity. Yet, today, in this room, Roderich had just admitted to something he had wondered for so long and pushed to the back of his mind because he had come to the conclusion it must not have been true.
It was processing this information that was hard for the tall German. There were so many things on his mind it was almost not fair of Roderich to spring this on him when he couldn’t even cope with what was going on presently for mistakes he had made not too long in the past. However, now, there was so much more to put into perspective the lump in his throat felt permanent and when Roderich wrapped his arms around Ludwig, he couldn’t help but let out a shaky breath.
Never. Never in his life had Roderich ever shown him this type of affection. Ludwig had looked up to the man as hard as it was to believe since he had known the Austrian when although his empire was not at its fittest, he still held the illusion that he was the best, confident and regal. However, now, here in this sad excuse of a flat, the man’s mask had fallen, in fact both of their masks had fallen, shattering to the floor. There was nothing hidden between them and although Ludwig was clawing to keep his composure Roderich made it increasingly hard to hold onto something he was doing a poor job of maintaining.
Ludwig was fighting it. He really was but this, this was too much and he could feel the tears he had been trying to keep to himself trail down his cheeks. At that moment, Ludwig felt two of three things, he felt pain and above all he felt the start of a release he hadn’t been aware he needed. The third was still a mystery but that was beside the point because for once Ludwig didn’t pull away. He allowed Roderich to embrace him like he should have been embraced as Heinrich and as he should have been embraced when he came back as young Ludwig.
Blue eyes fell upon his desk and the only word he could see written on his document was ‘victim’. And that was exactly what Ludwig had been and currently was. He was a victim of the times and one who had been thrown into things due to ignorance of his own past. He had thought himself knowledgeable but it had been quite the opposite and Ludwig knew now what needed to be done to fix all the wrongs he had committed and all the wrongs that had been committed onto him.
He kept his head bowed as he let the overloaded emotions seep out of him. There was nothing pretty about how he looked or sounded as he let out a chocked sob, his hand grasping the document on the desk before him as he gripped it and ruined it. When he released the unfortunate paper, he let out a second sob and before he knew it he couldn’t hold anything back anymore. In his complete shame and embarrassment he covered his face with his hands as he leaned his elbows against the flat surface of the desk trying hard to breath but finding the task nearly impossible.
There was so much he wanted to say and ask and he was reduced to this and he hated himself. He hated himself even more than he had thought and it was no one’s fault but his own.
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Wien bleibt Wien
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Post by Austria on Jul 24, 2013 21:00:27 GMT -5
Embracing Ludwig from the front with his head resting on the young man's shoulder, Roderich could not take note of the change of Ludwig's facial expression; but he could feel his existence and his warmth, right between his arms. This very unique attachment of kinship was something that the Austrian had forsaken when the worldly authority and prestige distracted and preoccupied him - perhaps both of them.
It would be the biggest lie if Roderich denied his emotional attachment dependence over the German. Over six centuries of close tie to a person was not a joke - his very creation, his glory and prestige; and later, his politics and economy were ultimately dependent on the success of the German, whether as a nominal symbol or as a pragmatic power. He was initially afraid of the embrace, but now he was very glad to have done it. It felt to him that he had destroyed his very own pair of self-inflicted handcuff, and that he had the courage to freely express his sentiments towards individuals he cared about.
He knew that Ludwig was not speaking, but he could still feel his eyes twitching, and his body leaning forward with his hands to cover his eyes, elbows on the table. Roderich was not stupid and he could guess what had just happened. He had never imagined Heinrich of Ludwig breaking into tears - perhaps they had, but not in front of him. Roderich personally cried many times as well, but mostly in private. As much as the Austrian was fond of psychoanalysis, he could not fully understand what was in Ludwig's mind other than guessing that he was deeply in pain, and probably developing hatred for Roderich for not telling him the truth sooner.
Here came the sounded sob, the choked sob that was unheard of. It was a series of powerful, agonising notes, each chord striking Roderich's heart deeply to swell with bittersweetness and guilt, bringing him more tears, and revoking his consciousness that he had caused the Germans' misfortune too much, a fact that the past and future historians would continue to disregard. Ludwig's body was so warm... so warm that he felt he had been deprived of human warmth for too long. He had had a moment of treating the other as an innocent child, offering him adorable items and special attention that he thought the blond boy deserved to enjoy... only to be severely rejected later. He obliged to the request of not treating the blond boy as a child, but perhaps he should have insisted to, and spoil the child a bit more?
If this was not the time to atone his sin, when would be the next time? The supposedly beneficial secret keeping turned out to be a chain reaction of misfortune, and Roderich had no wish to continue hiding anymore. Clutching onto Ludwig tightly, he moved up his hand and ruffled Ludwig's hair, slowly and fondly, patting his head lightly. "You must be hating me for withholding the truth, which I understand. You have all the reasons to dislike me, and you should. Let the tears flow, Ludwig. Do not hate the others. "
When Ludwig sounded a bit more settled, as so was Roderich, he broke away from the embrace but kept his hands on the German, pressing lightly onto his shoulder with one hand, and wiping his tears away with the other. "I hid countless of truth in the history lessons I gave. Your very own memories were turned into bland, factual statements, as if Holy Roman Empire - or Heinrich - did not exist as a person. I did not tell lies, nor did I tell all the truth."
Before continuing his explanation, Roderich took a deep, anguish breath with his eyes closed, preparing his memories and mindset for a possible set of painful interrogation. Then he regained his posture as he had been half kneeling on the floor during the embrace, looking at Ludwig firmly like a criminal turning in himself, waiting for righteous trial and punishment.
"Antiseptic applied on wounds would hurt, but ultimately it helps to heal." Roderich continued in a gentle, pleading voice. "Please, Ludwig, ask me anything, and I shall answer truthfully. I do not want to hide your memories any longer. You might feel deeply in pain upon hearing the truth, and so would I upon retelling it... but this is a healing process that you, and perhaps I, need."
"Please. Ask me."
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Post by Germany on Nov 5, 2013 21:11:30 GMT -5
Ludwig would have liked it to be vivid, however, there was no way to change the past. It was the same thing with changing the future when realistically no one could really predict it. Where you only doing things because it was planned or did you have complete control of your actions? This was and is a question that has been asked and pondered about by many. Of course, Ludwig liked to think that he had the ability to determine his outcome by the choices he made. Then again…he was merely a nation and he was put under the whim of his people so in in itself he didn’t really have much of a choice after all. And then, if he were to think about it in those terms…things were a little more predictable than he would care to admit considering if he decided to monitor one aspect of himself such as economics there was a trend that he could follow that would map out his development and growth as a nation.
That thought alone was even more depressing especially considering because of a good majority of his people he was in this cell mentally berating himself for something he honestly could have never stopped. He was a puppet…worse off than Pinocchio since at least the boy had had the capability of making his own mistakes and learning from them regardless if the fact he was lacking a proper moral compass. Funny, since he was supposed to have a perfectly good working moral compass and yet it hadn’t stopped him from committing some of the worst atrocities the world had probably ever seen. Systematic killings to the level that would impress Genghis Khan if he had been alive.
It was strange…because at this moment as he clung to Roderich, the one memory that seemed to be coming up was the day of his re-awakening. The moment he had found himself alone…cold and surrounded by company he could have easily done without.
--
The room had been cold, that was probably one of the most vivid parts of his first few memories. It was also a large room that was dimly light and he remembered the fear he had felt when he had spotted several other coffins littered around him. Many of them were open casket unlike his own and the few much further down the room that were also closed casket. The smell of death was strong in a the air, it was a stale repugnant smell and it almost made Ludwig wretch if there had been anything in his stomach to come up. Instead, it clenched, almost ceased painfully causing him to double over gasping for breath.
He let out a small whimper of pain before he managed to compose himself as best as he could. His head spun and the red mixed with the grey of the stones were spinning around him and blurring together almost reminding him of spilt blood on castle floors. Although, he couldn’t remember ever seeing spilt blood on castle floors yet the thought was still one of familiarity.
Ludwig remembered the suffocating feeling of thinking he was stuck…that he was placed in a room that had been sealed off from the outside and that he would be made to die in the company of those already dead and waiting for him. He had huddled in a corner for a long time sobbing quietly to himself before he caught the whiff of freshness and the feel of an unknown breeze. Wiping away at the tears that had nearly dried on his cheeks and around his puffy and red eyes Ludwig had relied on the wall that had been at his back to help him up as he tried to stabilize his shaky legs.
It was also at this moment that he had realised that he was wearing some sort of officer’s uniform or rather, some sort of military garb because there were a few other bodies that adorned a similar costume. He took quick note of it before he continued using the wall to get him from his spot on the ground to the area where he swore he could feel a breeze. Though the breeze was far from being powerful it was enough to subtly move the red curtain located not too far from where Ludwig currently stood. The movement caused him to glance over wearily at the curtain before he spotted the only amount of wood, besides the coffins, in the entire room. His mind put two and two together and he almost cried out in happiness when he realised that there was indeed a door he hoped was not locked and that he could escape from. It was at that moment that he couldn’t remember ever feeling so relieved in his life, but it was a good feeling.
Ludwig hadn’t wasted any time making his way over to the door as he pushed the curtains aside, with a bit of struggle seeing as he hadn’t realised how heavy they had been, and practically fell against the door in desperate relief. He had been quick to work the door open leaving behind the unwanted company and making his way, with quite a bit of struggle, towards anything that was alive and not dead.
It had been strange, because after he had taken several sets of stairs to get back up to the surface, he hadn’t expected to come out into a beautifully luxurious building one fit for royalty. Yet, strangely enough, he never once ran into a single person…anyone who could tell him why he had been locked away with the forgotten…had he done something wrong? Had it been a sick form of punishment for a little boy who didn’t know any better?
There had been so many things racing through his mind and when he found the first exit from the building he had taken it and left. He didn’t care that his stomach was begging him for food, clenching and cramping painfully causing him to nearly double over every few minutes because of his hunger. If he hadn’t died from starvation yet then that meant he could still go for longer without nourishing himself. The idea was not an appealing one but it was one that kept him moving. He’d rather take his chances in the outside world anyway…whatever the reason was for him being placed in such a morbid place…it couldn’t have been a good one.
After that, he had wondered the streets of Vienna begging for food and scaring off locals who swore he was a ghost. The rumour grew and for weeks people made a big deal when they spotted him. He had been lucky, after the rumour hit a high; people had started leaving food outside their doorsteps in hopes of warding him off. The food had been exactly what he needed but the lack of company and also without any memories had driven Ludwig almost mad with desperation. There had been a point he had reached almost a zombie like state where he would wander the streets without much knowledge of where he was going or what he was going to do next. Essentially, he had lost all hope of receiving any sort of answer. That was until he had stumbled upon both Gilbert and Roderich one day at a huge event he had wandered in on and that day was also the day he had first learned his name.
--
How naïve he had been….
How naïve and ignorant he still was for letting what had happen happen and for being stupid enough to be caught in a wave of cruelty and destruction.
That was why he clung to Roderich, clung to him as if the man was his only lifeline and in a strange way, and especially at this moment, that was completely true. Roderich was the only thing keeping him afloat because everything else he had had been ripped away from him…he didn’t even have the right to go visit any other nation unless he was escorted and if it had to do with international relations.
Ludwig had no doubt that he looked hideous sobbing so pathetically. Tears staining his face, his blue eyes contoured with red and puffy as well as the sickly pale complexion he had taken on ever since he had lost the war. All this time he had chosen to remain numb to the chaos that had been bottling up inside of him. He had chosen to ignore his natural instincts in flushing out such toxic emotions and what he did was exactly what the human race had been doing since nearly the beginning of human kind…killing itself with bad choices.
His head was pounding. It almost felt like the thunderous pounding of his ancestor’s war drums in his head, the sound vibrating across the inside of his skull and reminding him of his current state and overall weakness. He had never been an emotional person and there were many reasons for that. One of those being that it wasn’t in his nature and because he had always been taught that emotions were a man’s and especially a nation’s one greatest weakness. They got in the way and caused one to make horrible decisions they wouldn’t have made otherwise. Without them…one had a clear mind and could accomplish anything they set out to do.
Like killing millions of your own and other nation’s people….
Ludwig’s grip on the back of Roderich’s shirt tightened and he almost felt bad that his tears were probably soaking through the man’s clothes. He remained like so for a good several minutes before he was finally able to dislodge himself from the Austrian. However, he refused to look the man in the eye hunching over and resting his elbows on his knees and resting (hiding) his face in his hands. The trembles weren’t so bad and they were hardly noticeable at this point.
“W-why…” His voice came out almost hoarse. “..Why did both you and Gilbert hide it from me when I asked you so many times?” Ludwig’s voice was rising in tone. “Both of you told me those nightmares I had about dying….that they were all a conjuring of my childish mind…of a fear that was...remember Roderich…imaginary!”
He finally glances up at him his features clearly expressing not only the pain and suffering but the hurt that this information had been kept from him no matter how many times he had asked and about a part of him he swore he had been missing. “It was real…both of you blatantly lied to me and I trusted the both of you!”
He still trusted them…he hated to admit it but he did need them both especially now.
“Why would you think that’s remotely a good idea to withhold that information from me?!”
Ludwig sounded angry but the look that adorned his features was one of desperation and incomprehension. That had been his past, it had been a factor if not a backbone in who he was and they had omitted that from his life completely. They hadn’t even thought of the repercussions if he had found out by some odd chance from another party. He ran a shaky hand through his hair trying to process the news. Ludwig was sure that if he had been told this at any other time but now, he probably could have taken the news a little better but the seal of his emotions had been broken and there was no controlling the utter betrayal of being lied too.
“Don’t you see how fucked up I am now!” He nearly screamed but had managed to contain himself…it really wasn’t Gilbert or Roderich’s fault…not completely anyway. Whatever had lead him to his death…he shouldn’t have lost…he should have been stronger and again, his weakness had destroyed him…any semblance of who he used to be.
Ludwig grew quiet…ridiculously so. They could hear the shift of the guard outside it had gotten that quiet. “Did they send you hear to mess me up more? Is this some kind of torture for what I’ve done…Roderich I didn’t mean to annex your lands….” His breath hitched at that last statement. “Just leave me alone…let me wallow in my own self-pity…”
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Full Member
Wien bleibt Wien
Posts: 155
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Post by Austria on Nov 22, 2013 11:36:58 GMT -5
How Ludwig clung onto Roderich with little warmth as the Austrian remained half kneeling, allowing the German to rest on his shoulder and wettening his back fabric, all felt too familiar and distastefully nostalgic.
It was after a quarter hour of silent prayer holding Heinrich's hands did Roderich made up his mind to move.
As the boy had been too weak to take any baths, the maids were usually the people who performed the cleaning in a regular basis. The basin of water in the room proved very useful as no living soul was around the rooms assisting him. Taking a washcloth and soaking it, Roderich carefully wiped the boy's face and most part of his body, cleaning the bloodstain that was left on his skin during his occasional coughing. His hand often trailed down subconsciously to check whether there was still rhythm of life; there wasn't. Removing the duvet over, the bloodstain covering most of white nightwear was evident, as if the boy passed away as an Austrian warrior as well.
His emotion halted again during the cleansing. The only focus in his mind was to adorn the boy with the grandest honour, and he did not bother asking himself why such action was necessary. The very instinct dictated that such course should be taken, that he shall take all ancient wealth to enjoy a majestic afterlife in heaven, with all the deceased civilisations. Perhaps he would even have a chance to meet Roman Empire as well.
Not until the cleaning was completed did Roderich remember that he had forgotten one important step. Taking out a stagger well hidden underneath the bed, Roderich went up to the bed, knees kneeling before Heinrich's body, he drew a circle in the air above the body, locating his left rib cage... and he froze, becoming cognizant of his wrongdoing, and dropped the dagger.. While the duchy of Austria belonged to the Holy Roman Empire in allegiance since its creation, the reverse logic did not hold true, as much as he wished, imagined, and how it appeared to be. He was never a Habsburg, thus he should not take his heart.
It was half past seven, with the sun beginning to set, midsummer light shining through the clear windows. He had finished adorning Heinrich with the pure white Austrian Generalfeldmarschall dress uniform, the Great Cross of the Military Order of Maria Theresa, ribbons, and various other badges. His hair was groomed, Totenoffizium was recited properly, and his extra coffin in the crypt was confirmed by the friars.
Not having a slight clue about how deceased nations’ body would become, Roderich was certain of the clear principle that if anything, Francis should be the last person in Europe aware of the hiding place of the beautiful corpse. With all German members seceded and called to the pretentious Rheinbundakte in Paris, Gilbert finally on his side but engaged in preparing war against the Frenchman, there was no one, not even Feliciano and the Vatican that he could ask within a week's time range for this bare funeral. The less people know, the better, even if it made the parting felt all too abrupt.
To conceal Heinrich’s presence, his neck was rested on Roderich’s shoulder, head lying against the back, the rest of his torso rested in his tight arms, and his entire body covered under the long black cape as an addition to Roderich’s full black mourning attire. The entrance was full of important guests staying over for the night; after much consideration he took the servants’ corridor discreetly, as he could not afford exposing the boy to the public... A slight thought of the consequence made him shiver incessantly.
The Viennese streets on Wednesday were rather desolated. He could hear his steps resonating, each step grave and heavy. The feeble candle light, barely lighting up their faces, was of no use.
The standard procedure, as usual - entry of Kapuzinerkirche. The new friars did not know who Heinrich really was, only knew that some royalty related person needed to be buried. Declaring Heinrich as a mortal sinner felt so ironic, yet immensely true.
Since Roderich specified that no requiem mass shall take place, to the dismay of the friars, the spare coffin reserved for children was already settled at the Crypt. The countless times of witnessing his royalty’s death, and countless times of attending entombment, Roderich grew accustomed to the dimmed lights, the smell, and the layout, just like an aging man getting used to his final resting place.
As Roderich carefully unwrapped the cape and lifted up the boy with both hands, which was two times lighter than what he had imagined. Strange feeling of wetness became noticeable at his back - reaching behind to examine the wetness, it turned out to be Heinrich’s coughing blood that never get cleaned out from his throat. Ignoring the bloodstain, he proceeded to place the boy inside the coffin, tidying up his clothing for the final time.
At last, as he knelt down, he placed a light kiss on his forehead.
The entombment was completed, and he finally had this huge burden relieved, Roderich told himself quietly. No more tears needed to flow, he ordered himself, as he did already before Heinrich lost his breath. Like all his beloved archdukes and archduchesses here, he would enjoy eternal peace, away from conflict, away from violence.
Did he really feel relieved, though?
It still weighed heavily in his heart as he found himself unable to move his limbs. He still remembered the day of his creation, his baptism, and his ardent admiration towards his creator. How would one have imagined the empire passing away sooner than unruly warlords, repeating the Roman history once more? How the glorious time of Barbarossa had passed away, grown dark under cover of night, as if it had never been.
The familiar Gregorian chant sounded, resonating in his heart; and he rested his head against the coffin, his legs remained unmoved. Eyes remained restless as he hummed to the chant from distant times in this godforsaken vigil night.
...Except, Ludwig was not dead. He was alive, clinging onto him, crying as if it was the first time of his life. His hand ruffled Ludwig’s hair and pet his back, as that was the only thing he could do to comfort Ludwig at the moment. He had no resource, and had only brought Ludwig more agony and suffering.
He was here to council, not to add extraneous burden into Ludwig’s mind. Standing up as Ludwig unwrapped his arms from him, part of Roderich wanted to reject the claim that the concealment of truth was to harm Ludwig, but he also realised that from Ludwig’s perspective, it was a very easy conclusion to come to. He expected a series of agonising questions, and indeed the power of words, especially churlish comments on certain deeds that one performed with kind intention, aching like a stabbed heart, but was still bearable.
What he could not bear, however, were the eerie silence, and how Ludwig considered this revelation as the direction consequence of his action done to him a few years ago, finding it insulting that he considered the official government stance chance to anti-Nazi status as Roderich’s personal move, and how Ludwig thought so lowly of him. Among all things, this should not be Ludwig’s concern for the moment.
Standing up and hunching forward, he looked directly at Ludwig in downcast eyes, both hands resting on Ludwig’s shoulder. Roderich was fairly certain that no matter what he said, Ludwig would find it abhorrent, but he still wanted the younger to hear every word of it.
“Look, Ludwig... look at me, I am of German blood as well. I might have appeared somewhat displeased before, but my people wholehearted support it, so did I, deeply within the desires. I should have been part of you long time ago. Do I look furious enough to mess you up? No, that is not my intent.” Yet he still managed to indirectly messed up the German's life more than twice.
“If II have told you about your previous life as Holy Roman Empire from the very beginning, having you solely under my guidance, you might not be as strong as your potential to achieve, but you would certainly love me unconditionally, and you would be my Generalfeldmarschall instead of Gilbert’s.” The thought of replacing Gilbert in the current state gave Roderich a dry laugh, and he withdrew his hands and looked away wistfully. “The boy I have loved and served for almost millennium would continue to be my side - no need to annex me. Yes, that would have been truly beneficial for me...”
“...but I could not.” He couldn’t help but squeezing out a bittersweet smile as he walked away, mindlessly browsing through the pathetically small book collection that Ludwig had in the room. That was abysmal in comparison to the imperial library that was once their classrooms. How fast as time passed by - it felt like yesterday that they were tutor and tutee. “Do you remember the awfully few lessons we had specifically on the politics and structure of Holy Roman Empire?” His voice was as cold as his unwillingness to attach any emotion to the memories. “I taught no merits, only flaws, as if that empire should not have existed. I personally believe that if Heinrich were to repeat his life for the second time, I would rather see him not through the tragedies... four centuries of illness is enough, no need or more.”
Grimaced upon seeing a copy of Grimm’s Fairy Tales on the shelf, he took the book out and flipping through the pages nonchalantly. “Your love for fairy tales and folklore during adolescence never ceased to surprise me - in a negative way. I kept worried about your curiosity in medieval German stories and legends leading to a revival of Holy Roman Empire.” He paused for a second and glanced at Ludwig in concern. “If I were to inform you about your past life at that moment - wouldn't you attempt to imitate? You were a child, and it was only natural for you to do so.”
“And as a child, everyone dreams. Free associations, fantasies, both symbolic and imaginary... These modern thoughts were not readily available centuries ago. Dreams were divine revelation or preoccupied thoughts, and in your case, we considered it a warning that you shall not repeat the past.” Roderich had nightmares as well, yet those were typically filled with dragons, mythical creatures hunting down children in the forests. The dreams disappeared over time, so he ended up not particularly concerned himself over nightmares in general. Another severe mistake he had committed. “If I were to tell you that nightmares you had were not imaginary, you could not feel optimistic about your future, or else progress would be dragged. Besides, we believed that those nightmares would disappear once you achieved your independence as a true, powerful empire... but it didn't.”
Noticing that Roderich appeared to be rude not facing Ludwig, he finally dropped the books and turned back, feeling much better after avoiding eye contact for a brief moment. “Heinrich... how magnificent he was when I could barely wield a sword effectively. He had such a determined desire and ambition to command others, though the initial political structure inhibited him from doing so, and gradually, to the point of no resurrection... I did not want you to repeat the frail path of life. Above all, you must be strong - diligent and intelligent to emerge as the new power.”
“The only reason why I knew you as Heinrich was due to the white Generalfeldmarschall uniform that I chose for burial, and I made up your name. Your look was so ordinary that other nations could not easily distinguish you from another school boy. The only consequence needed to worry about would be Francis Bonnefoy who would definitely use you as a political tool, but I successfully persuaded him before as well.”
“With previous experience, I thought I knew you well, and I wanted to fight for you, redesigning you, reorganising the power structure to make you possible as a successful German Empire....” And how incompetent Roderich was in persuading Ludwig to prefer him over Gilbert. The traditional land of Bohemia no longer appealed to the pure Germans, and he had almost lost all his favour when he insisted upon maintaining the traditional minorities that Heinrich used to own.
Roderich took a grave sigh. “You are not Heinrich, after all. You are Ludwig, of different soul but with the same body. The changes in your disposition easily convinced the other German princes that you are, at most, remotely related to Holy Roman Empire. I no longer know you well. The memories we- Heinrich and I had together disappeared in vain.”
“And- I lost to Gilbert.” Inevitably, that name had to be mentioned when the topic was related to the life and fate of Germany. He swallowed up some feelings, returning to the table where Ludwig sat at, and continuing, “Heinrich never grew into adolescence, as far as I remember. Occasionally I thought that my existence hindered Heinrich’s growth, and the hypothesis became more conspicuous when you grew magnificently after your unification. Regardless of my disdain for Gilbert’s preferences with warfare, I, nevertheless, was immensely glad to witness your true growth as a vigorously built man that you are today. From the day I asked you to address me as ‘Roderich’ instead of ‘Herr Edelstein’, I was prepared that one day, it would only be natural for me to follow your guidance and policies.”
Well, as Ostmark, Roderich swallowed the words after much thought, considering it not appropriate for this context. Hitler had given enough trouble for Ludwig - too much for him to handle. What exactly had Roderich done or thought to produce an anti-Semitic radical like Adolf Hitler - he did not have the slightest idea. Perhaps something twisted within him...
“My people and I are to blame for dragging you into two major wars that you should not have participated in... You deserve all rights to pity yourself. However, do not hold onto the guilt - you didn't pull the switch in the concentration camps, nor did you order your people to do so. It has never been Ludwig Beilschmidt’s fault. The people were conditioned to feel that their existence was being threatened by others, and their will to power pressured them to adapt to the current system created by the radicals... We have our human side as well, Ludwig, and once in a while we are all twisted. Even if you do not allow certain things, you cannot prevent it from happening.”
Roderich was not sure how much did Ludwig know about Gilbert’s current situation; probably around more or less than what he was allowed to know. Still, the best way to maintain Ludwig’s almost nonexistent optimism for the future was to ensure the younger that the brother he admired would do very well under Russian guidance - despite of Roderich imagining the opposite. The dissolution was still vivid in his mind, and he had to constantly remind himself that he needed to remain stronger than Ludwig - at least for now - to prevent the reversed situation of him being taken care of. Love and romance are trivial, unneeded sentiment in this matter...
“Your brother, Gilbert, is no exception. Although I have learnt from him that being vexatious could be advantageous at times. He is such a resilient and obnoxious man that he refuses to appear defeated and struggles to live on, no matter what it takes. And you should not blame him for withholding your past. Gilbert and Heinrich were in rather horrible terms due to religious and political conflicts, and I used that to threaten him keeping his mouth shut.”
He wouldn't have protected Gilbert’s image if it were a few decades ago, but he would need to so Ludwig would not collapse as easily. Anxiety of his lover’s safety built up even more, and before he got lost in the trails of memories and had his hard-earned expression deformed into sadness, he bit his lips and turned around.
The image of Ludwig and Heinrich began to morph together again. He took a deep breath and swallowed everything he was about to release. “I am sincerely sorry for withholding the information, betraying your trust. But I just could not tell you... I could not imagine myself telling you... Please, do not blame yourself or the others.”
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Post by Germany on Jun 25, 2014 23:53:29 GMT -5
Ludwig wanted to feel numb again. It was much better than what he was currently going through, all of these emotions that he'd buried deep inside of him, forgotten them (rather ignored them). He wanted to take all of this back. He wanted Roderich to go away, he wanted to forget what the man had just revealed and most of all he wanted to be left alone. He didn't want to see anyone....for a long time, until he figured himself out. However, with the way he was feeling at the moment, he was more tempted to find a secluded location in the mountains and remain isolated letting one of his brothers take over his role as the personification of this cursed nation. Perhaps it was possible in becoming human and eventually dying away leaving all the atrocities and tragedies that had been his life behind. Ludwig had left his mark and there was no need to mar this scarred world with more evil and by his metaphorical hand.
The emotionally frail man was still hunched over both his hands buried in his now messy hair as he tried to calm himself, as he tried to let Roderich's words process in his mind. It was the hands on his shoulders, the elegant ones with long fingers, the ones with the ability to produce enriching sounds from any instrument they touched....the hands that used to bring beauty into the world, the ones which he had tainted by forcing them to destroy and kill instead of doing what they did best and the soothing command, a tone Roderich shouldn't be using with such a basket case of a man like him, had him looking up to meet the Austrian's gaze. There were tear stains trailing down his cheeks but it was clear that he was no longer crying even though he still felt the need too. He looked more placid than he did before, even more exhausted than when Roderich first came in. There was also a hollowness that seemed to seep into him constricting his throat and vocal chords making it almost hard to breath. The discomfort luckily didn't show on his face.
His brows had knitted together causing the all to familiar crease to reappear. Ludwig's lips had also thinned as he ran his hands completely through letting the blond locks fall messily over his forehead. At the moment he looked like the young boy that Roderich probably remembered from so long ago. Usually, Ludwig was a very logical and sensical man. The words coming from Roderich...they made perfect sense, why risk ruining another boy nation so soon, condemning him to a fate that unfortunately seemed to have come to pass twice for Ludwig already...minus the inevitable illness that had befallen Heinrich. Ludwig somehow managed to avoid that, well, at least the physical aspects of it.
"I do...." Ludwig manages to get out. His voice small not a single trace of the command that used to be present in his tone. There had been no glorifying words for the Holy Roman Empire. Ludwig had found it odd because with the other empires he had been made to study Roderich had always mentioned one positive aspect or contribution the empire had made. At the comment on Heinrich's illness Ludwig wanted to make a rebuttal about his own illness, a less apparent illness, his clearly skewered moral compass and psychological defects. He would have to have psychological issues with what his own people have done....right?
However, it seemed Roderich didn't agree because the man's next words argued his inner thoughts. Ludwig wanted to take comfort in them but he was far from being able to take comfort from anything. He took up the position he'd been in before Roderich had touched him, both hands buried in his hair, elbows on his knees and his gaze fixed on the ground. "Stop...without me it wouldn't have been a war...I was the key to both wars..."
He didn't hear his people contradicting or refuting the decision to go to war....neither did his people think it was a completely bad idea. Both times they had jumped at the opportunity for glory...a glory that was no longer there, a figment of all of their imaginations. There was no glory in war, not any more and Ludwig wondered if in the past what they thought was glory was in fact something far sinister. It was the mention of his brother next that has him sitting up straight his gaze fixed almost desperately on Roderich as if waiting for more bad news. When he didn't receive any he relaxed, only a fraction of an inch it wasn't to noticeable but he was sure that Roderich would...since the man had known him for so long and so well.
All he had found out from the allies was that Gilbert had fallen under the care of Ivan....and he'd begged to trade places but to no avail. It seemed that they were punishing the both of them as severely as they could...leaving Gilbert with Ivan....it broke Ludwig...it had been a straw to many in his pile of guilt. However, at the moment....knowing that everyone (or he assumed that was the case at the moment...it seemed like a logical assumption with the severity of the news) except for him had been aware that all this time he had been the former empire....this wounded him just as much. It made him wonder what else his entire family....their entire community had lied to him about.
"I want you to leave...." Ludwig almost growls but the anger doesn't quite make it in his voice. "I want you to leave and I want you to tell the others not to visit....ever."
He turns around sitting at his poor excuse for a desk properly before picking up a new pen almost making it seem as if he was going to go back to work but he doesn't. "But before you leave....who else knew about this? Was it just you and Gilbert? Or is it safe to assume everyone else in the family and close to the family knew?" His voice lowers to a harsh whisper. "Why did you keep this from Feliciano too? He...he was in love with Holy Roman...." It almost pained him to get that out even though it was illogical to feel that way. This meant that Feliciano had been in love with him the entire time...a him he didn't know...and that was the worse part. "He was waiting for Heinrich Roderich...don't you think that's cruel...just as cruel as keeping the truth from me?"
Ludwig didn't turn around to face Roderich again. He couldn't bare to look at him, not yet.
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