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The wheels stopped just in front of the ostentatious iron gates. From the vehicle got off Germany himself, always firmly postured; he was wearing a long overcoat of pretty dark navy, which waved restlessly as the growing winds of that afternoon.
He took a hand to his hat in time before it could have flown away. Then, he leaned forward to the window and thanked the impatient driver, who simply nodded before turning the car around to where he had come from, leaving behind a foggy trail of smoke and dirt.
The man's gloved hand pulled the gate latch and half opened it, making a creaking noise. He entered the gloomy garden and took a moment just to contemplate the great brick structure, now of an illusorily darkened appearance due to the black clouds that had blocked the sky. Behind the windows, there is a shaft of light, like the warmth of candles and fireplace coming through, which could have given him a cozy feeling if it wasn't for the wicked imp of Tartarus who awaited inside.
Just give me a break, thought to himself. The man had done the job of travelling from snowy Berlin to the windy fields near Vienna, all because of his reckless brother who, needless to say, had been staying as a guest at the very Austria's own residence for quite some time now (and to cap it all, without even the owner's permission).
Roderich had tolerated it quite well the first two days. And if he could be that altruistic, he would've put up a week at most (actually less than that) just for the pure intention of a simple visit! You know? Catching up with family?
But to no one's surprise, the matter had gone to hell, because it was almost a month since Gilbert invited himself to that mansion, and he hadn't left since then. That man... was not a fool. He only visited Roderich because he knew his mere presence was such a nuisance to the bone. And nothing could bring him greater fun than watching someone like a snob, the haughty Austria flying off the handle over anything Prussia said or did.
Funny how was Germany, one of the youngest among the Germanic branch, who had to go follow his big brother right behind, making sure Prussia wouldn't be doing something too clever by half.
He walked to the big oak door, sighing for a moment of peace before knocking the old iron ring.
Knock-Knock
Heard two voices on the other side, who fell silent abruptly. Footsteps echoed over the floor tiles.
The door half-opened just enough to take a curious peek. Ludwig stiffened upon meeting Lovino's stern expression, his usual scrowl. The sturdy man awkwardly took off his hat, crumpled it up nervously, and tried (failing in the process) to show him a pretty smile, one that he'd already practiced in the mirror countless times. But the southerner did not appreciated even the courtesy, he just showed him a wrinkled nose.
He opened the door. "The Potato." Said out loud to somewhere over his shoulder, and grumbled as he walked away from the spacious hall, disappearing under an archway on the right-hand side.
Germany stepped in the warm interior, and followed him right behind into the living room. There he saw him with arms crossed, already seated on the armrest of a wide settee. His glance turned now to the other man: the owner of the property. He was sitting in another of his sumptuous purple armchairs, by a vivid blazing fireplace, "You arrived on time." Greeted, "It will be a terrible night."
He nodded subtly, "Good to see you—"
"What the hell are you doing sitting there?! I told you go get Gilbird like two fucking hours ago!" Those screams came from the stairs in the hall. At the entrance of the room had appeared the unmistakable Devil in white nightshirt, coughing and spitting down without modesty on the ceramic tiles.
Romano jumped up startled, "Okay-okay! Chill out! I was busy doing the garden's shit! Fuck..." Scratched his nape. He grabbed an old square basket putted there earlier on the settee and left, cursing as he entered the hall, on the way taking the brown flat cap hanging on a coat rack by the entrance.
"Ja, you better gotta' go now. We don't pay the plebs for dossing around." Scolded Prussia, wiping his nose with a sleeve.
"Fuck off!" He opened the door and went jogging out to a barn far away. Wind and drizzle slipped up inside the house, billowing the long and heavy curtains.
The albino noisily slammed the door and headed into the living room bringing on a proud smirk, "Luddy! My boy!" exclaimed, "What are you doing so far from home?" He got closer to the fire's warmth. There was a little sparkling in his eyes.
"Austria asked me to come get you. We go home."
"To hell with—!" Gilbert had a sudden coughing fit, that (much to Roderich's chagrin) hadn't any decency to cover up. Drops of drool jumped in all directions, (and 'in all directions' means over Austria's glasses.) "You want me to quit here like this?! ...I am dying!" Coughed out.
Roderich took out a handkerchief and removed his glasses to carefully wipe off Gilbert's disgusting saliva. "I'm afraid to say he has caught the flu. But I believe he's getting better." Argued gnashing his theeth, "Ludwig, why don't you stay the night, and leave tomorrow morning? If wheater gets nice."
"It would be for the better. Thanks." Puffed and took a spot on the settee while taking off the leather gloves, "I was feeling very weary. It is a considerable trip."
The group kept up a trivial chat; some 'What has become of you', or 'Want a coffee?', some politics, the Commonwealth, a bunch of Gil's bad jokes, anything about close friends and not-so-close. A simple catching up of news, nothing too special as the rainfall increased.
Little time later, Vargas had just come back to the house.
He entered the room forgetting all the formalities. Amid angry mutterings, he placed the basket on the tea table in a certainly rough manner, which had made Gilbert raise an eyebrow. Romano dried his soaked face with the shirt sleeve, meanwhile Prussia leaned forward on the settee to reach the table, and opened the basket without further hesitation.
They noticed an instance of silence and discomfort. The three turned towards Gilbert, whose face had completely contorted from a mischievous expression to a face that would show a father about to lecture his child:
"Where's Gilbird?"
"Don't pull my fucking leg. What the hell do you want—?"
Prussia bared his teeth and turned the inside of the basket into Lovino's view. An opportune flash of lightning illuminated the scene; there was a hole in one corner, through which presumably the bird had pecked and broken out to who knows where! Romano, jaw agape, looked up again and met with two berserked eyes.
"M-man... Gil, he was here. I put him in the basket. I swear to God, there wasn't any damn hole!"
Prussia threw the basket to the floor and held his head in his hands, crying out a guttural scream, like the ones a little girl possessed by Satan would do. And (to Roderich's nightmare) he jumped up onto the tea table, spilling the flower's vase, and yelled out pointing a finger at Romano, "Arsehole! I told ya' one, two, fifty thousand times to bring my Gil back home! And you waited for the last instance to heed me!" He angrily pulled his white locks.
The other crossed his arms and rolled his eyes, "I don't work for you! If you wanted him here, why didn't you take him yourself!?" Huffed, "It's not my fault your bird of shit escaped—"
"Shut up, shut it!" Jumped off the table and walked nervously around the room, mumbling nonsense. Ludwig stood up, and tried to get closer to calm him down. Roderich, on the other hand, just simply stared at the fire, sitting there in his armchair, his glasses reflecting those flames on them. The aristocrat was mentally defeated by all the dramatic business that was him.
Lovino shrugged disdainfully, "If I'm being honest, I don't give a hoot about your shitty bird."
"You are a monster! Horrendous monster! You left my poor baby out there!" Pointed a finger at the storm behind the large old window, "Alone! An innocent creature!"
Romano shrugged again.
Gilbert, amid frustrating shouting, stepped out of the living room and disappeared down a hallway to the insides of the mansion. It could be heard a heavy metallic din.
Back again in the room, Prussia had come, bringing with him an ancient sword of crusader knight that had just been snatched from one of Edelstein's decorative armours. His eyes were wide open, reddish spheres sick of wrath. The guy strode towards Lovino, doing menacing slashes with the blade in the air. The poor servant could only run in circles through the room, screaming for help, terrified of the lunatic who followed him a few steps behind.
"Prussia! Stop it!" Yelled Ludwig. He got in his brother's way trying to catch him by the nightshirt, and to snatch the weapon. Meanwhile, Roderich had grabbed a poker for fire and had leaned forward, getting closer to stir up the embers, as if the matter behind him were just the brawl of a pair of morons (That was partly true, but on the other hand, the matter was none of his concern).
Germany caught the hysterical man's forearm. Prussia, after finding himself captive, straightened up his other arm and threw the sword like a spear towards the other side of the room, against the target that was Romano's head. The wretch managed to duck just in time before the iron edge could've brushed his brown locks, cutting its ends, and following its way, finally stucking against the wall's pretty tapestry of Mister Edelstein, his newest sorrow on the list.
"Let me kill you, sewer rat!"
"Have some mercy! Gil, just— calm down!" Trembled Lovino, hidden behind the table. "I'll get out! A-and go look for Gilbird!"
Prussia broke free from the grip in one go, "Yeah, that's exactly what you'll do. Don't want you to come back without my baby... Otherwise, I'm gonna rip your head off." He threatened, pretending to cut his own neck with a thumb.
Romano swallowed and got up very, very slowly, then took the basket and left for the entrance hall without taking off his eyes from his potential murderer. When he opened the door, he'd already disappeared in the rain, leaving the door wide open. Even with the loud sound of a torrential downpour out there, Lovino's screams and noisy crying could still be heard in their ears.
Austria sighed, throwing his head back. He needed his pipe. "You see the kinds of performances that I have to deal every day with these two? At this point, the coffee must have gotten cold." He cleared his throat. "Good to know that by tomorrow morning it will be over."
"I apologise." Said Ludwig. But Roderich flicked down the wrists in the air, refusing to listen cordialities.
Ludwig crossed his arms, looked at his brother, and clicked the sole of his shoe, "What were you thinking, Gil? Was all this necessary?!"
Gilbert fell on his knees and whimpered, a noisy sobbing, hoarse voice, and a congested nose. "My birdie! Don't ya understand... That the good-for-nothing lost my boy?!" He wiped his nose. "The only thing that I love so genuinely besides The Awesome Me, and he... he just..." He leapt up from the floor into Roderich's saving arms, who had the unfortunate reflex to hold the woeful body. "He doesn't have heart... To take pity on the creature!" Prussia grabbed Austria's delicate frills from his jabot collar, and blew his nose very loudly, leaving a thick and viscous dirt on the fabric. He resumed his crying and hugged him, cradling his head on the other Germanic's shoulder, who could only bear the disgust and pat him on.
Germany knew that this longing for solace was nothing but another opportunity to tease around and play the goat against anyone (Austria) nearby. But his argument was still true, and Ludwig couldn't help but feel at least a little guilty, a little responsible even when nothing about this matter was in his hands. No, it wasn't, but Gilbert was sick, he was weak and not in conditions to take care of an animal, neither could ask him to go outside in this bad weather. Gilbert was his closest family, and he himself felt the duty to watch his back whenever his brother was dealing with bad times. It's the least he could do for this man.
Determined, he put back his hat, turned up the lapels of his gabardine and walked out to the house's entrance, grabbing by the way Lovino's flat cap on the coat rack and an umbrella hanging there. He was about to step outside until he heard Roderich's voice. "Are you going out in this rain?!" he said from the distance.
Ludwig's calculating gaze searched through the obscured afternoon; white mist, frozen grass, and rain itself. Out there, somewhere, was a lost bird and a man who hated him to death. His lungs breathed deep the cold air, "I don't think this man wants me around. But I'll be good, and I will lend him my hand to find Gil—"
"Yes-yes, that's nice! But please hurry up and close that door! Okay? It is getting chilly! And don't be too long, Lovino still has to make us dinner!"
Germany walked fast all the way towards the cowshed, which was far-off a considerable distance from the residence. He passed through water, fog, and heavy winds, feeling how the storm was tugging strong his umbrella and the hat he'd been clutching on to with such care. At a few paces from the wooden structure, from outside, he heard many skittish chickens clucking out loud. He dragged the sloppy wooden door and, right inside, saw Romano rushing around like a blue-arsed fly, shooing hens, rummaging their nests and tearing up heaps of straw placed here and there on the corners. After that, he strode to the cows' stalls and searched inside their metal feed tubs. Ludwig closed the door behind him and looked at the southerner, now at the other side of the barn, putting his head and arms inside a barrel, his voice imitating the shrill chirps of the little bird.
He didn't notice the new presence until the shadow of his tall and bulky figure blocked the lantern's light hung there on a wooden post. Lovino took his head off from inside the barrel and turned to his back very slowly, his heart just stopped after seeing the mere bloodcurdling vision. At the next second, he was already insulting him in the face, as always, even denying that he almost died of pure fright.
"You, bastard! Motherf—"
Ludwig placed the cap on Lovino's head, the other took up his fingers to the hat, trying to smack Potato's palm out above him. "I'm sorry, didn't mean to scare you." Said with a stoic face.
"Why did you come?" Said Romano, looking away at one of those beams crossing the ceiling.
"To find Gilbird." He hung the umbrella on a nail in the wood post, the water dripped from the metal ferrule end, down to the straw on the ground. Germany knelt down in front of the small henhouse, searching inside as if it needed another catching eye to review at the same corners.
Romano knocked over the barrel, "Nobody asked for your help... Was it your idea or the dickhead of your brother's?"
The blonde turned his head and observed him impassively (murderously in Lovino's eyes). "I wanted to help." Shook the head, "If you don't like it, then I can leave right now and tomorrow we'll see what Gilbert wants."
Lovino wailed, covering his own face with his hands. He walked back and forth, scattering straw, kicking sacks of grain, and old and worthless junk. "Fine! Then stay here and find the damn chick!" Grabbed the umbrella, the basket, and opened the barn's door.
Germany stood up, "Wait! I think—"
"No! I said, you stay, and I'll search outside." Answered, pointing a thumb over his shoulder. He left, once again leaving the door wide open. Ludwig walked tentative paces to the door, and stood still for a moment, conflicted as he stared at the exit. He turned to watch the different animals, trying to look for a hypothetical opinion: should I stay, should I go?
A great blast lit up the world. Zeus, the colossal, had made rumble soul and eardrums.
Disturbed cows howled and kicked. Hens and roosters shrieked and ran around in circles, many of them finally escaping towards the fields. "Shit..." Hissed Ludwig, he walked long strides among the chickens to the outside. There he saw Lovino a long way off, way towards a shed, standing still like a lamppost in the heavy storm, with hair standing on end, umbrella calcined, and clothes smoking.
"Romano! Get down!"
In the absence of a response, the man didn't think it any longer and ran out for the other. He snatched the useless umbrella and threw it away from them, "Vargas!" Shook his shoulders violently, trying to snap him out of his dazed mind. He forced him to bend his head down, then placed his pale hands over his ears and quickly led him to the shed.
The structure was a lot smaller than the barn, made up of old planks of rotten wood that no longer could even insulate correctly the external cold.
Now inside, he placed Lovino on the floor, leaned against a wall. Closed firmly the door, and leaned his own back against it. A string of thunders could be heard, menacing high above.
Ludwig took a deep breath. He got closer to the other man and squatted down in front of him; his pupils were immensely dilated, his gaze lost and cloudy, and his head without the strength to keep it upright. Clothes smelled like burned, and his extremities were trembling in a sudden shivering. His fists were clenched, shaking too. Germany bit his own tongue. He showed two fingers in front of Romano and made them click. "Do you hear me? Are you there?"
Lovino only heard a deep voice misted by an annoying and persistent buzzing inside his head. He could only stare in confusion (particularly, a double vision of Potato Bastard). "...ah...? Pomato... B-ba...Ba...tato... you ba..."
Ludwig could've sworn that he could see little gleaming stars spinning around Lovino's singed head... Frustrated, he smacked his own forehead. Yes, Italy was an idiot, that was nothing new. But, what about the brother? Time to time, he managed to overcome Feliciano's stupidity.
He stood up and looked for something to make light. There was not much really, just work tools and rusty junk collecting dust. But among all the stuff, he found an old-fashioned oil lamp; the glass chimney was broken, but the wick was still useful. He took out a lighter from his coat, and after a couple of tries, he lit the wick. It was even a miracle that the old thing still had oil in it.
Brought the light nearer and placed it on the floor in front of Romano, whose stare was now hypnonized by the soft flame, and body still trembling.
"There's a thunderstorm right now," he began, "is what I wanted to tell you earlier. Why did you have to run away like that? You could've died." Clenched his jaw, "Or maybe you're even dying right now, it's possible—"
"Fuck you." Mumbled.
"You have no idea the danger you just went through," he yelled. "We should stay here until the storm ends."
"F-fuck... You."
Germany didn't swallowed the bait.
"Fuck. Your. Self. You and your family of shit." he said, increasing his tone. The other party kept his mouth shut. "If only that damn thunderbolt had killed me, I wouldn't be seeing your face."
"I still don't understand what's your problem with me."
"What's my problem? What's the problem of your whole-ass lineage with me?! You all treat me like a damn dog! Oh, Lovino, do this, do that! If you hurry up, I'm gonna' pay you your stupid coins!"
Shook his head, "It's not what I think. How come you have that impression?"
"Oh, you shut up. Of all, you're the worst." He glared. Ludwig could not comprehend what was doing wrong. "...You came to mock me."
"That is not true. And you're the one insulting me. I just wanted—"
"You came to see me... You came to watch me looking for a stupid bird." Lovino broke down.
And ranted loudly against Ludwig. Something that barely made sense in his mind, like a collection of past incidents, woes that sounded much like: "I am and forever will be a damned slave." He shouted gratuitous insult at Potato, to Gilbert, to Roderich, Spain, France, Bitch-Ass America, and a whole list of old men dead since centuries ago, even poor Italy! Half of his complaints had nothing to do with the actual situation at Austria's residence, but rather with his personal frustrations with all those he'd been mentioning.
Calm down. Chill out. Bared hands, or begging for forgiveness. Oh, Germany had never known how to handle Romano's delirious outbursts, because he'd always been afraid to use his imposing voice on him, and yet he had never found the right tone for him to hear it in. No matter how he tried to talk, Lovino refused to listen.
But maybe he didn't need to find a solution. Because his own frustrations germinated inside his lungs, ready to get noticed. It was just one word, a yell far even louder than any Romano's complaint.
"Enough!"
Immediately, he felt grateful, he finally had made him keep the silence. However, now the other seemed frightened, and if Rome and his brother really were that similar to each other, then he knew it could pass barely a few seconds before the fool came up with getting his arse out of there.
Ludwig swallowed. He gripped tightly Lovino's forearms, keeping him steady under his stare; his eyes showed one simple plea: Please, just wait and listen. Do not be scared. They wanted to say.
Lovino remained motionless, not able to take off the gaze. His muscles relaxed and his horrified features gradually softened as Ludwig slowly let time pass by, like dazed again by the thunderbolt, a very probable suspicion.
A powerful gust crackled the wood planks, wind filtered between them. Ludwig sighed and broke eye contact. He took off his navy coat and covered Lovino up with it as a blanket. "I don't want to bother you, I just wanted to help. I'm sorry if... if..." His voice trailed off, not entirely sure if Lovino was still in his right mind.
He got up and went to sit down against the opposite wall, as far away possible from the other man. They both chose an empty corner to look at, killing time until the storm subsided.
Later on, perhaps little less than an hour, the storm died down. Now the rain was lighter, a drizzle. The wild winds had gone. And time with Vangas had passed through an odd silence.
Until he heard a soft chirping.
Ludwig stood up and looked out the window, thinking for a second that he had imagined the sound. But the chirping came again, high-pitched tweets echoing through those still-covered white skies.
The other man behind him got up startled before those calls. Both stared at each other with the same idea.
Without missing a beat, Lovino took the basket and left the shed.
Germany picked up the coat and hung it over his arm before following Romano, who had already gone ahead, jogging towards a row of trees on the other side of the field, right by the property's border. Lovino stopped and rested both hands on an old wire fence that divided the two parcels. "There." Smiled, puffing out. On the row's other side was a neighbouring patch, a field of pasture on which, on the opposite side, grew a small and not-very-dense birch forest.
"Alright, then." Ludwig stepped on the lower wire extension, while with one hand pulled strongly up the other wire, making a wide gap to pass through.
Lovino threw the basket to the other side, and stepped into the fence through the gap in one clean ducking move, except for his hat which had got caught on a spike. On the other side, he placed his cap back on his head and, as he groaned painfully, tried (kinda) to copy Ludwig's strength by stepping on the lower ware and pulling up the top one. The other man, unfortunately, couldn't help but snag and tear up his clothes against the fence's barbs in his attempt. The brunette chuckled, and helped him to disengage the threads of his trousers and waistcoat from the wire. After some clumsy movements, Ludwig finally managed to get to the other side.
"Look at those pants, you've ruined them." Said Romano, amused.
"I think I can fix them." He shrugged.
"You think? You can think?" Both crossed the wide neighbouring patch towards the edge of the grove, where Gil's chirps had been echoing even louder. Germany went carefully into the woods, with Romano right behind his back all the way through those thin trees, clearing the path from undergrowth and low branches.
Until they ended in front of a leafy bush. The blond man pulled out weeds and branches, trying to clear the way. After crossing that thicket, they both sat down on their knees on the ground: because there they saw him hidden amongst tall grass, that holy yellow birdie. But... good heavens! What a meeting! The business had not ended yet, because it wasn't just Gilbird who had been awaiting, but a whole nest of chicks!
Somewhere on the field, hidden from any intrusive being, Gilbird had maintained a cosy nest with little eggs, already in the hatching process. One of those chicks was chirping, very softly and weakly, while its siblings were still trying to come out of their mottled eggs. The last of them had hardly managed to crack out its eggshell.
Gilbird fluttered above and sat down over Romano's cap. Lovino got it as a sign of approval. He leaned forward a bit and grabbed handful by handful of matter from the nest to fill in the basket's bottom. The matter was a mixture of dry fodder, sheep's wool, hen's soft feathers and semiplumes, and (what he inferred was) fluff of other creatures on the property. Very carefully, very kindly, he put up one by one the little chicks inside the basket.
Pink baby birds hugging each other, with tiny little wings, shivering and trembling. Germany felt great tenderness when he saw the newborns. He tilted and bent forward to the basket, and with one single thumb he petted the chick's weak, feathered little head (not actual feathers, but more like a bunch of softy fluffs).
Ludwig had not realised about his space, how much he was taking up, he was absorbed in the little creatures. So distracted, that he did not notice how close he was to Lovino, how near they were to each other. Nor how his warm breath had come to brush the other man's face; to his cheek, his nose, and cold lip.
It brought to Romano a shiver, running all through his spine, then, a fleeting thought. When he realised what it had been, he backed off and threw away the thought. Took the basket and closed it abruptly, to Ludwig's confusion.
"What happen?"
He got up straight, "What else's gonna' happen? My balls are freezing." Said hugging the basket to his chest.
"Right. Right. It's getting late." Murmured, standing up. He shacked out his coat and, expecting a complaint, wrapped up Lovino with it, covering his head and tying up both sleeves as one could do with the ribbon of a cloak. The southerner didn't utter a word, but instead tried to cover the basket under the gabardine.
Gilbird had flown from Romano's head to the space next to his neck, hidden right under the thick blue fabric. Poor little creature was so sensitive to cold.
Way back to the clearing, rain still persisted slightly and constant; the day was getting dark very quickly, the sun was setting, reflecting flecks of red light at the edges of the clouds high above. But they didn't take it too fast, nothing of running out, neither dashing away nor perching into wire fences. Both returned to the mansion at a slow and careful pace, taking a bit longer route along a narrow path.
"I was wondering... If I can ask...?"
Lovino raised an eyebrow, "What?"
"When you opened the door, I didn't spected to meet you there. Are you working for Roderich?"
Lovino puffed a bit annoyed, "Yeah... Long story. But in short, let's say that I have a debt. I owe him some good money."
"Really? How?"
"It's just— I did something stupid... You know? Some time ago, my brother Feli brought me here and told me we were gonna' have dinner at Austria's house, to celebrate the anniversary-of-how-should-I-know, with these guys... eh...? Austria and Hungary and... Czechoslovakia and his whole God damn world. Well, the thing is, in the evening I did dumb stuff; I tripped with, uhm... this... thing of his that I broke by accident that was very, very expensive."
"I see... And what did you break?"
"A bust of some old lady. I don't know. It looked like an antique... The guy almost cried his eyes out that night..." Clicked his tongue, "But well, well. Now here I am."
Prussia had one hand resting on the mantelpiece, his head bowed, and his mind absorbed in those hypnotic flames: "I'm going to destroy him. If I see my baby with less a single feather, I will kill him."
After hearing a dry cough, Austria sighed and drummed his fingers on the armrest, "Aren't you feeling a bit sleepy? I can take you upstairs, if you need my help."
Now the ill man rested both hands over the fireplace, "If Gil does not come back, then neither will he..." Coughed, almost dying, but with his smirk always intact, "And nor do I, never ever."
Roderich swung his crossed leg, "Yes, alright, Gilbert."
Then, somebody knocked on the door and their wait was over. Gilbert got in position, gripping the sword with both hands, Roderich stood up and walked amid yawns to open the entrance.
The two nations came in dragging inside water among their clothes and shoes. Lovino took off the long coat over him, and Gilbird went out of his hiding place, fluttering happily towards the cosy warmth of the room, flying around of his dear, quasi-crazed owner. Prussia let the blade fall onto the carpet, "Gilbie, my boy!"
"A girl." Smiled Ludwig. Gilbert looked at him like he couldn't listen to his brother too well.
Lovino left the basket very softly over the tea table, "She is a momma, and you're an old bitch-ass grandpa!" His tone wasn't furious, nor sharp, but with a great lack of enthusiasm.
Prussia was left speechless, he looked to everyone; to Lovi, to Luddy, to stupid Roderich... With a single move, he caught the floating yellow ball that was Gilbird, and turned it upside down. He closed one eye and with the other observed meticulously whatever the hell it had the bird between his or her two legs.
Confused and scratching his head, he turned Gilbird back the right way round, and stared inquisitively, as if the birdie could answer the hows. He let her free and got closer to the table. When he opened the basket, he found a whole bunch of fluffy chicks, hugging each other, and begging for food. "Oh, my Lord..." Raised the basket over his head and spoke out loud: "I am a grandfather!"
Roderich snatched the basket, "Are you happy now? Then let's go to your room!"
Gilbert protested and stretched out his arms to catch the basket again, grabbing it by an edge and pulling it closer to him, "Nein! Go suck some dick! I still have to name them, something pretty." He leaned forward and snooped inside; "This one is going to be Gilbird II, this one is Our Land Prussia, this one's Gilhawk, this one's going to be Federick the Great. These three are Gilberta the Clown, Gilberte the Beauty, and Gilbert the Awesome. This is Gilchist, this Gildo... Mmmh... And this one Luddybird... The ugly little one over there is Austria II."
"Very well! That's enough!" Roderich took off the basket and placed it back on the table. He pulled the albino's forearm and dragged him back towards the stairs.
Soon both disappeared from the room.
In this new silence, Lovino felt his boots weightless, his head spinning again. He took off his cap and got closer to the fire, staggering as he went. Ludwig grabbed him by his shoulders, just a light touch of his fingers. "Are you alright? Do you need anything?" he whispered.
His head spinned as a drunken man. Romano refused, mumbling a weak grunt.
Ludwig guided him very carefully to the settee. Gently pushed his stomach and shoulder back, pressing him down to sit. Lovino wiped his nose with his shirt, then sneezed repeatedly, which made his head spin even more as a throbbing pain coursed through his skull.
Roderich went back to the living room, bringing with him some towels, he handed over a pair to Ludwig. The last one in his hand took it by the fireplace, and let it warm up right there near to the flames. Then, he carried it to the basket and placed it softly inside the chicks' nest, surrounding the little heap with the smooth cotton fabric. "You got sick. How wonderful!"
He frowned, "...No."
The other crossed his arms, "I hope you know that all this nonsense of matter from today has been caused merely by your own hand."
A line of drool felt down his chin, "..."
"He got struck by lightning while we were outside." Clarified Ludwig in a low voice. "Maybe I should look for a medic, because—"
Mister Edelstein raised his palms as if he didn't want to know any more details. "Stop it, stop. I had enough." He picked up the basket and headed for the hall. "And I have things to do, so you do me a favour, and take him to one of those empty rooms upstairs." He walked away with Gilbird by his side down a corridor to find food for the birds, those thingies where tweeting so loudly.
The blond man noticed that they had left a trail of water and dirt all the way from the door to the living room when they came in earlier. He should clean it up later. He took off his leather shoes and the elegant waistcoat, leaving everything together with his overcoat, drying by the fire. He wiped his hair and neck, and then grabbed the other towel, and knelt on one knee in front of Romano. He looked paler than a moment ago, and his eyelids looked reddened, "How are you doing?"
He hummed. His smallest movements seemed weary, clumsy.
Ludwig untied Lovino's worn boots and placed them to dry at the fireplace, besides his pair of shoes. He turned back in front of him and started by rolling up Romano's sleeves. With the towel, he dried hands and arms, and was taken by surprise to find a large burn; the furrow of the lightning bolt had run from his fingertips to get lost under the sleeve's cotton fabric. Typically, injuries did not affect humans the same way as for them, semi-inmortals, but that seemed painful, and Germany wondered if he felt any kind of pain from it.
He sat down next to Romano, and began to wipe his neck and all the collarbone area, all the skin around it. He removed the dampness of his dark locks with a gentle touch and a circular massage that soothed his troubled mind. Romano kept his eyes closed during those brief minutes, perceiving his touch descend from top of his head to his cheekbone. It felt so serene, so pleasant that he'd let himself just simply lean over that hand, almost pretending it was the softness of a bed. Lovino secretly wished that he would not withdraw too soon.
Seeing their clothes almost dried, he considered his task concluded. Ludwig abruptly removed the towel, "Let's go upstairs." He requested. Lovino opened his eyes, still wanting to find the other's.
Roderich wore a pair of white gloves; he had been picking up with a wooden tweezers seed after seed, crumb after crumb, for the last birdie, who was squawking loudly and flapping his translucent, featherless wings. "Now, open your little beak, Austria II. You look like a hideous insect, but I know among your siblings you will be the greatest very, very soon, little lad. Trust me, I was like you a long time ago... But look at me now; I am powerful, I am very rich, and I look so handsome. Yes, very pretty for the ladies."
Austria II squeaked. In the meantime, Gilbird and the other babies were sleeping peacefully inside their basket, tummies full of seeds.
Germany entered the kitchen. He placed on an ornate tray two wooden bowls, which he filled with generous ladles of steaming vegetable soup, and placed by the side a bread roll for each one. He grabbed the tray and stepped out of the kitchen to go upstairs, heading first to his brother's room.
"How are you feeling?"
Prussia was lying in bed, with four extra pillows under his head and an arm hanging off the bed, like an ill young prince on his deathbed. "...Come here, kid." He coughed, "I need to tell you something... something important..." Germany rolled (mentally) his eyes. He left the tray over the night table and took a seat on the bed, now just a bit eager. Gilbert caught his brother's hand and held it firmly between his own. "...Cough! Cough! Oh, Ludwig... I think I'm dying." Coughed loudly and spat out an ugly gob of spit onto Roderich's expensive carpet.
Ludwig withdrew his hand and touched the other's forehead. He found no fever, nor a drop of cold sweat. He grabbed one of the bowls, "I brought you soup. Be careful, It was boiling—"
"Ja, ja. Just leave it on the table." He rolled by his side and took a bite of bread, "Hey... What's in that? You cook it, right? I don't trust any shit that makes Roddy in the kitchen. I mean, he's not bad but, ya' know. He's not one of those who cook."
"Eat your soup and sleep. Tomorrow we'll go home." Germany was about to get up, until the sick man spoke again.
"Listen, Lud. Thank you so much, man. For Gil. I really appreciated it."
He was honest. The brother smiled back and firmly patted Gilbert's knee, "You're welcome. But please. Next time please do not go running around with a sword."
Prussia grinned maliciously, "I wasn't being serious, I just wanted to scare him."
"Sometimes I don't know when you are being serious, and when you're joking." Raised an eyebrow, "And this time you seemed like you were talking very seriously."
"Alright! Maybe this time I was very serious, very. Uggh... you know how important Gilbird is to me." Prussia laughed, "But, did ya' look at his face!? And how did he run away from the house, crying out loud like some little girl!? He almost pees his pants!" Guffawed, "We should have a servant. One who's cowardly, and pressed for cash. Hhmmm... Who could I ask for?"
"We don't need a servant."
"It doesn't have to be one of us, if you don't want to. Could it be any human!"
"Gilbert, eat and go to sleep. Please." Germany got up, and took the tray. "You'll be okay tomorrow, if you rest." Said as leaving the room.
He walked through to the room at the end of the corridor, and pushed with his elbow the half-opened door. This guest room was almost in darkness, nobody had lit any candles, but there was still a fire burning in the fireplace, providing just enough light to distinguish contours. Ludwig set the tray on the night table, and sat down on the bed; Lovino had changed into a loose woollen shirt, his sweat had been dripping from forehead to chest, and the expression on his face looked exhausted, sore.
He touched his forehead, "You're boiling." Said quietly. However, when he reached for his hands, he found them freezing.
Earlier, Germany had placed a metal bucket full of cold water by the bed. Over the blankets he'd led folded towels and cotton bandages, something he'd just taken out of a drawer. The man soaked a towel and wrung it out strongly: With it, he cleaned very carefully Romano's face and neck. Then, he took a small cloth to moisten, folded it in half, and placed it on the feverish forehead.
Germany grabbed the soup. "Can you sit?"
Romano huffed. Held the cloth steady on his forehead and, with his other aching hand, leaned straight up on the mattress, bending his torso. The movement caused his dazed head to turn to one side. "...leave me alone."
"I brought soup. It'll make you good." Took a spoonful of the liquid.
Romano turned his face away, "Just give it to me and get out." Tried to snatch the bowl.
"You're not alright, not yet."
He roughly removed the cloth off his head, to crumple it up in his trembling grip, "Give me the bowl."
Germany hesitated. He slowly placed the soup between Romano's palms. The southerner stared at the liquid, peering at coriander leaves and carrots swimming in there. His head swayed slightly, as if in a subtle vertigo. It was that damned thunder, that lightning fucking up his ears.
Then he tried to take a first spoon, but couldn't even bend his fingers without complaining of pain. His grip was so clumsy that he only managed to spill the liquid back into the soup. After a few embarrassing attempts, (staining even shirt and sheet) Romano swallowed his pride and backed out, "Help me then," sighed, "so I can pretend I'm the Boss." He smirked maliciously, "Bastard—"
Austria knocked loudly on the open door while cleaning his throat, "I remind you, Mister Vargas, that, unlike your person, Mister Beilschmidt is my guest, as Gilbert too..." Gritted his teeth, "You, however, should be working at this very moment! Doing the laundry, cleaning the house, serving our food. Do you know about that leak on the third floor that I asked you to fix a week ago? There it is!" He crossed his arms, "Look at you, taking up space in a guest's room. I should count the cost of your accommodation to your debt, as well as all the time you'll want to remain ill."
"Gilbert kicked my ass out of the house! Out, into the rain!"
"Gilbert this! Gilbert that! You should take responsibility for your work, and not for his foolish nonsense! That's why you are here in the first place!" Roderich places on the tray a small bottle of medicine and a disinfectant. He left the room grumbling to himself.
The bowl was left with just dregs at the bottom. Lovino split the last piece of bread in two, and dipped one half in the remaining soup, then brought it into his mouth in one bite. Ludwig, in the meantime, was measuring one teaspoon of the bottle's medicine, a dense and amber-coloured liquid.
He left the empty bowl on the table and sat closer to Romano. Raised a hesitant hand in front of him and after a brief pause, a mute request, he gently held Lovino's jaw. He swallowed the medicine and immediately put the last piece of bread into his mouth, turning his face away, attempting to avoid his blue gaze.
Germany closed the bottle again. He grabbed the disinfectant lotion and lifted the lid of the little tin box, "Give me your hands." Said quietly.
"You don't have to do all this." Romano showed his palms; the burns were reddened, and some dead skin was peeling off.
He rolled up the sleeves to above his elbows, "Does it hurt?"
"Itches."
Ludwig first took a clean cloth and washed away with water any intrusive dirt, then greased his fingertips and spread the lotion all through his injuries in delicate, lineal movements. He took the bandages and wrapped Lovino's hands and arms up. "It will heal quickly."
"I know."
He closed the tin box and put everything back on the metal tray, "You should sleep now. It's quite late." remained seated beside him, close to him, too close.
Romano's dreary stare just kept watching for nothing special, just to hear the soft sound of rain outside, "Imbecile, imbecile..." He mumbled in an incomprehensible tone.
Ludwig stopped on a dime what he was doing and turned to face him; now their faces were close to one another. Yet Lovino still refused to return his glance. "What did you say? Romano?"
His fingertips were stroking the cotton fabric of his bandage, "I'm an imbecile."
He frowned, tilting slightly, still doubting the intentions behind that statement, "Are you... Are you...?" Cleared his throat and shook his head, "It's about the lightning, or about the bird? It doesn't matter now. What's done is done."
"No, it's not that. It's—" Romano turned to him, and felt once again his warm breath, brushing through his lips. A moment passed, a silent pause. Both of them waiting for the other.
Until Lovino slowly moved away. He pointed out to the fire on the other side of the room, which was right in front of his bed. "T-the-fire. It's going out. Could you... Please?"
Germany stood up and walked to the fireplace, heavy footsteps echoed over the wooden planks. He watched him facing backwards and getting down on one knee, he saw him grabbing firmly a fire poker to remove charred remains. The huge man searched for one of those heavy logs lying by the fireplace. He lifted it without an effort and placed it into the dying fire. Embers and sparks jumped and flew up, illuminating solely him. He remained kneeling there until flames settled on their new log, until the room was no longer cold.
It must had been a quarter of an hour or more than that, but when he finally stood up and turned away the fire, Ludwig found Lovino still sitting there staring at him; his chest breathing fast and heavily, watery and reddened eyes, his eyebrows slightly furrowed. Ludwig wondered if he had crossed a line he shouldn't, if he had said or done something he mustn't.
"Are you alright?" Murmured.
Lovino did not say a word, yet his pupils were still staring, eyes still fixed on him.
He walked back to the bed, and sat down again on the mattress, "Tell me what you need."
The thought was both of theirs, the same thought he had had hours earlier in that birch forest. Now it was a vivid warning in their minds.
Romano resisted, "I want to be alone."
Germany swallowed his own apology. He picked up the tray and said good night before leaving the irascible man in peace. The door got closed, and his steps moved away down the corridor. Romano hid himself under the blankets.
The next day dawned with a frosty morning, but with beautiful and clear skies. Romano had woken up pretty late, just because of a roaring engine getting started.
He jolted out of bed, rubbing his foggy eyes. As best he could, he got out of the sheets, and half-staggered his way to the window, to check out a peer through the glass: down below, in the garden, he saw a black car buzzing and waiting. Prussia was standing by a fountain, he was wearing a grey coat, seemed completely recovered, frankly. In his arm was holding the babies' basket. And behind him were Germany and Austria chatting to each other. Ludwig searched inside his blue gabardine's pockets for—
Well, he couldn't see anything else, he had to turn back from the view as he found the restless imp of Gilbird pecking and pulling up his locks. "Ow...ow! How the hell did you get in here?!" Annoyed, he smacked around through the air to make her move away from him. But Gilbird was determined to fly in circles around him, chirping with that weak and husky tone of hers.
"...chirp, chirp, chirp, chirp, ch—"
Somebody entered the house, someone stepping heavily on the stairs. Lovino and Gilbird turned towards the window in a dash, just to find Roderich waiting in the garden, and Gilbert getting a seat inside the car. And those footsteps... Those shoes were already up here!
His heart was bumping against his chest, trying to get out. Romano threw himself into his bed again, curling up by one side and covering his body in a hurry with a mess of blankets. The birdie flew over and tried to snuggle up against his nose, but Lovino shooed her away with his palm. It did not work. Gilbird nestled up again in the same spot, glued to his face.
He knocked on the door, Lovino closed his eyes and tried with all his might to fall asleep. After a pause, he noticed the door opening gently.
His shoes creaked on the wooden floor with every step he made on his way to the fireplace. He knelt down on one leg, and stirred the dying embers of the morning as he'd done the same last night. Then he grabbed a heavy log and threw it there onto the remains, to let it burn. And for what seemed like an eternity, Lovino could do nothing but just hear the flames consuming the firewood. His pulse stayed strong and conscious of the man hypnotised by the warm light.
He stood up and walked over to his bed. He felt his weight sink into the mattress as he sat down, keeping silent, awaiting. But Romano couldn't say anything, not with pride pricking him inside.
"Gilbird, come here." Whispered very quietly.
The bird chirped.
"...Gilbird." The soft blond plumage moved away from his face and fluttered towards a big hand. "You're such a nuisance..." A moment later, he got up (much to his disappointment) and left the room, closing the door with an even gentler gesture than just before.
The car door slammed shut, and the noisy engine drove away from the residence, taking the two brothers with it. Romano finally opened his eyes and rolled to the door's side; his stare instantly fell on his cap, and on the unfamiliar pair of leather gloves on the night table.
Romano rolled face up and hid his face under a pillow; "Stupid bird. You stupid chicken..." He swore by the Virgin Mary that he would hate that man for the rest of his days and, for the sake of his dignity, he would forget all the matter of yesterday.