Post by Germany on Aug 26, 2010 5:37:43 GMT -5
Cleansing the wounds, Ludwig was quick to pick out the most recent batch again, the ones that looked to have been received only a few days ago. Two of them were bleeding weakly — the reddish welts must have gotten ripped open when the Baltic had struggled with him to keep his shirt on. Like all the other marks on his back they were ugly, severe, and taking too long to heal. He re-rinsed the cloth before tending to them, ignoring the way his patient squirmed a little in obvious discomfort. Getting wounds cleaned and dressed was never comfortable, at least in his experience.
Then Toris was speaking of the war again, saying all the things he expected him to say: that he was going to remain neutral, that his people did not share Hitler’s ideals and vision. Strangely, he sounded almost sorry about it, like he would seriously consider joining on Germany’s side if his people were not so strongly opposed.
Ludwig felt his affection for his new servant grow. In his present state an Axis Lithuania would be even more useless than Italy, but he appreciated the thought. Very much appreciated it. Because even though he had Feliciano and Gilbert for close personal friendship and moral support, now more than ever these days it felt like the whole damn world was against them, and it was always nice to have that little extra bit of support.
"But I would like for us to be frie...um...on friendly terms, too,"
Ludwig perked up a little at that. His cloth continued to glide over the brunette’s back and scrub lightly at problem spots, but his mind was no longer wholly on what he was doing.
Toris had almost said he wanted to be friends. An innocent slip of the tongue, or did he really mean it?
The Baltic followed this up by reaffirming his earlier promise to work hard for him, then sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. “...I really do appreciate you trying to save me.” He sounded sad.
“Trying to save you, what do you mean trying to save you?” Ludwig repeated, confused. He dropped the cloth into the bowl this time since the water was by this point dirty beyond use. “I have saved you. Ivan has to get past me to get to you. And that is not going to be easy: I have grown very strong over these last few years. Those injuries he gave me? They barely slowed me down. It will not be long before they’re healed completely.”
An exaggeration, but not a great one. In truth the wounds he’d received from Ivan and even — embarrassingly — the slick floor had slowed him down, and he was still very much feeling them today. But he wasn’t feeling them as intensely as, say, a Baltic nation would, and unless something serious happened on a massive scale to his people, government, or economy over the next couple of days, they would heal rapidly. Likely without leaving a scar, though that variable was not so easy to predict.
He was staring over Toris’s back into the wall now, his mouth drawn up into a firm line. His next words were burning with defiance and controlled anger. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than that if he wants to take me down.”
Then he remembered Toris’s gratitude and desire to be on friendlier terms, and his mouth softened, his gaze becoming less severe. “I’ll be back in a moment.” he told his patient in a slightly friendlier tone. Without even looking at him, he scooped up the bowl of water and headed out the door.
He returned a couple of minutes later with fresh cloth floating in a fresh bowl of water. These were set in the same place as before.
However, rather than getting back to work on his patient’s scar-ridden back, he stood studying him, an innocent, thoughtful expression playing about his features, as though he were on the verge of saying something kind but could not decide what.
Perhaps we could be fri — The thought died quickly. No. It would never work. Not with me being his master and spending most of my time away from home fighting. And sooner or later he’s bound to learn the truth about Feliks…what then? Even if I refrain from personally dealing the death blow, Poland doesn’t have much time left the way my boss is going. That’s not going to sit well with Toris.
The Baltic had been so relieved and comforted by his lie…
Then Toris was speaking of the war again, saying all the things he expected him to say: that he was going to remain neutral, that his people did not share Hitler’s ideals and vision. Strangely, he sounded almost sorry about it, like he would seriously consider joining on Germany’s side if his people were not so strongly opposed.
Ludwig felt his affection for his new servant grow. In his present state an Axis Lithuania would be even more useless than Italy, but he appreciated the thought. Very much appreciated it. Because even though he had Feliciano and Gilbert for close personal friendship and moral support, now more than ever these days it felt like the whole damn world was against them, and it was always nice to have that little extra bit of support.
"But I would like for us to be frie...um...on friendly terms, too,"
Ludwig perked up a little at that. His cloth continued to glide over the brunette’s back and scrub lightly at problem spots, but his mind was no longer wholly on what he was doing.
Toris had almost said he wanted to be friends. An innocent slip of the tongue, or did he really mean it?
The Baltic followed this up by reaffirming his earlier promise to work hard for him, then sighed and wrapped his arms around himself. “...I really do appreciate you trying to save me.” He sounded sad.
“Trying to save you, what do you mean trying to save you?” Ludwig repeated, confused. He dropped the cloth into the bowl this time since the water was by this point dirty beyond use. “I have saved you. Ivan has to get past me to get to you. And that is not going to be easy: I have grown very strong over these last few years. Those injuries he gave me? They barely slowed me down. It will not be long before they’re healed completely.”
An exaggeration, but not a great one. In truth the wounds he’d received from Ivan and even — embarrassingly — the slick floor had slowed him down, and he was still very much feeling them today. But he wasn’t feeling them as intensely as, say, a Baltic nation would, and unless something serious happened on a massive scale to his people, government, or economy over the next couple of days, they would heal rapidly. Likely without leaving a scar, though that variable was not so easy to predict.
He was staring over Toris’s back into the wall now, his mouth drawn up into a firm line. His next words were burning with defiance and controlled anger. “He’s going to have to do a lot better than that if he wants to take me down.”
Then he remembered Toris’s gratitude and desire to be on friendlier terms, and his mouth softened, his gaze becoming less severe. “I’ll be back in a moment.” he told his patient in a slightly friendlier tone. Without even looking at him, he scooped up the bowl of water and headed out the door.
He returned a couple of minutes later with fresh cloth floating in a fresh bowl of water. These were set in the same place as before.
However, rather than getting back to work on his patient’s scar-ridden back, he stood studying him, an innocent, thoughtful expression playing about his features, as though he were on the verge of saying something kind but could not decide what.
Perhaps we could be fri — The thought died quickly. No. It would never work. Not with me being his master and spending most of my time away from home fighting. And sooner or later he’s bound to learn the truth about Feliks…what then? Even if I refrain from personally dealing the death blow, Poland doesn’t have much time left the way my boss is going. That’s not going to sit well with Toris.
The Baltic had been so relieved and comforted by his lie…