Mein Norddeutscher Bund (Prussia & Germany)

[Prussia]

“Selbst, wenn ich wüßte, daß morgen die Welt unter geht,
würde ich heute noch ein Apfelbäumchen pflanzen:
Even if I knew that tomorrow the world would go
to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree."
Martin Luther (1483 - 1546)

A few days after August 23, 1866 and the signing of the Peace of Prague


The scratching of signatures on paper was like music to Gilbert’s ears, the quiet symphony only interrupted briefly as the pen exchanged between the royal and respected hands of Emperors and Kings. Now this was the kind of music Prussia enjoyed hearing from Austria above any other: acknowledgement of defeat, the surrender of territory, and the final realization in those violet eyes that just about half of what Roderich controlled was now under Gilbert’s ownership. Even the faint reflection of the colorful stained glass in the otherwise gilt and wooden room on the Austrian’s glasses was not enough to keep Gilbert from relishing in the moment at seeing such an expression, as disguised and masked as Roderich tried to make it.

Yes, Gilbert had defeated the Austrian so decisively that the peace purposefully placed pity on him. Forgetting, or more like ignoring, that the war came to such an abrupt end in order to keep Francis out and that the peace was meant to keep Roderich more on the humble side rather than in ruins, Gilbert stood surprisingly quietly with a faint smirk on his lips. His own superb victory extended even to Veneciano, who had technically lost his part of the war. Due to the Prussian’s prowess on the battlefield and the ensuing victory that followed, Italy would be receiving the coveted Venetia—a necessity for his own unification—from Francis after Roderich had left the room. Bismarck had spoken quite pointedly, before the signing, about not embarrassing Austria or making a future enemy out of him. King Wilhelm and Gilbert were both completely livid, king and country united against a common enemy, but the Iron Chancellor had spoken and so it was done.

Peace was settled, the war was over, and Prussia was thus glorified. Schleswig and Holstein, Hesse-Cassel, Hanover, Nassau, and Frankfurt were now his and his harsh demands of them—demands partially made due to not being able to make such against Roderich—made sure they would be under his control. “Auf Wiedersehen, Deutscher Bund!” Gilbert had crowed when they finally walked out of sweltering hot building. The alliance amongst such selfish states in that ridiculous German Confederation was thus over and Bismarck was ready and eager to proceed with his planning, even if he tended to keep most thoughts to himself.

Heading north with a small party full of important dignitaries, the Prussians passed through Dresden but a day ago where Gilbert said his farewells to the downtrodden looking Saxon as the two of them separated ways. “Come on now, Saxony! Don’t look so depressed.” A difficult request because Saxony usually looked a little worse-for-wear on the best of days. “It’s better off this way.”

Gilbert patted the other on the shoulder, fingers digging in lightly. “It’s not goodbye forever. ” It was impossible to keep the bemused glint from his eyes. The Kingdom of Saxony had agreed to join Gilbert in his newest endeavor, which would be much more awesome than anything Austria might come up with: the North German Confederation. “We’ll be seeing much of each other from now on!” And of everyone else that’s not Austria, he added silently, walking his horse back out of the city before pulling himself back onto the saddle. Bismarck would make sure of it.

The Prussians continued to follow the Elbe northward. The surface of the water sparkled brilliant blue beneath an expansive, white cloud-ridden sky. The grass desperately clung to the last hints of green within the tight grip of the summer heat that made Gilbert walk more than ride in order to spare his Trakehner stallion. The brave warhorse had a soft spot for apples, making it endearing when it decided to make a few pauses on the journey home. The horse, however, wasn’t the only one who thought running around in tall grass was an exciting afternoon activity during lunchtime. The King and Chancellor were surprisingly content and cheerful over the matter that their country was in such high, energetic spirits. The future looked bright for them all.

Initially the plan was to head straight home for Berlin, but Gilbert found himself in quite a celebratory mood. Why go home when he had new territory to explore? Thus the plan swiftly changed to visiting the old city of Magdeburg, where the first hint of this unified-German-nation business started with the first Holy Roman Emperor nearly nine-hundred years ago. After that, it was decided that the King and the others would break away from the river and head eastward, making a short cross-country venture into Brandenburg territory and towards Gilbert's forever beloved Berlin, a capital after his own heart of Königsberg. Gilbert was determined to continue all the way north to Kiel, where victory in the Second Schleswig War had set him on this path of victory and German unification and which now belonged to him and only him. The North German Confederation was to be German only. No Austrians allowed.

His laughter drew War Minister Moltke’s somber attention, to which Gilbert merely grinned, no way insulted or put off that his enthusiasm did not extend to all members of their small twenty-four person plus nation entourage. This was the day, the month, the year to celebrate Prussia and his great victory over the Austrian supremacy. Bismarck’s genius and Moltke’s aptitude had just about handed it all to Gilbert on a golden platter. They had said “Auf gehts, Preußen.” Gilbert picked up his newly faithful needle-gun rifle. Then it was done. Gilbert loved them for every moment for it.

Around midday they came upon a small, thatched-roof cottage surrounded by a grove of apple trees hugging the river on all sides. With rolling countryside lying ahead, the traveling party decided to make a short stop for rest. The armed men who accompanied His Royal Majesty remained outside with the horses and weapons, content to sit in the shade of the house where a few snatched a few apples for themselves, while King Wilhelm I, Iron Chancellor von Bismarck, War Minister Moltke, two aides, and Gilbert knocked on the door and were invited in with much fumbling, bowing, and excited exclamations from cottage owners. Dressed in his high-collared, blue military long jacket adorned with golden buttons, a white belt around his waist, and traditional black riding boots, Gilbert tried to look just as regal but was assumed by the cottage owners to just be an armed guard, his youthful appearance adding yet another strike against him, and thus went mostly unnoticed.

All the better for him as the matron was more than happy to give him a bountiful amount of apple wine in hopes of keeping him relaxed. Yet their attempts failed and Gilbert’s all-ensuing delight seemed to have even less bounds because of it. More apple wine was passed around and the Frau and Mann’s faces were shocked and then delighted when Gilbert called them from their corner-side attendance to join in with the impromptu celebration. The King heartily agreed, giving a pat on Gilbert’s back to try to calm him, while the man and woman approached within three feet and continued to maintain their distance. Yet they drank their own wine with confused smiles that hid a sense of satisfaction.

“It’s not every day you come home victorious,” Wilhelm said, leaning back in his chair looking very much like a content cat.

“It is when you’re me! ” Gilbert said joyfully, rocking the fragile wooden chair back on two legs. “Although I have to hand it to the big guy over there” –he gestured with his cup across the tiny, white-laced kitchen table—“Not bad at all! Hope you have something else just as awesome in store. Since the Peace is signed, I think I’m ready to hear stage two. Or would it be stage three now?” The cup, brought to his lips, could barely hide the unreserved grin.

Bismarck chuckled, a knowing look in his eye, but had little to divulge. “If I told you then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He exchanged a look with Wilhelm, who looked just as interested as Gilbert was. “We wouldn’t want to let anyone catch on too soon, now would we? You’ll find out soon enough.”

That didn’t put the Prussian nation off at all, but Gilbert was already gesturing at his left towards Moltke, who was as silent as ever. “You too! If I didn’t like you so much, I’d have half a mind to kick you outside. We’re celebrating part of your victory too, you know! ” Yet everyone knew Gilbert was mostly cheering on himself. “It’s such a fucking good feeling isn’t it?”

“Check your mouth, Gilbert, you’re in civilian company,” Bismarck said paternally.

The kind words were lost, as they usually were, when Gilbert jumped up and slammed the cup on the table, making the others jump. “AH!” A realization suddenly hit him. “We have all those men outside too! Why am I here with boring, stern faced—” He barked with laughter. “Don’t give me that face, Moltke, you know I like you! ” he said without looking, for his attention was on the two cottage owners. “We’ve got some awesome guys outside who helped fight that war too. How about sparing a few more bottles of that Apfelwein?”

Wilhelm and Bismarck picked up a conversation of their own while Gilbert tucked two bottles under his arms and gripped two in his hands. The young daughter, with long brown pigtails that fell to her waist and who barely came up to Gilbert’s chest, opened the door for him when he didn’t look opposed to kicking it down with his foot. Out he walked to much cheer and celebration, his face glowing with pride at the reception. Now this was how it was supposed to be! But he was only able to take his seat for a short amount of time, for the energy within forced him off his comfortable spot on the ground and then, when the apple wine was gone—four bottles was not nearly enough—had him competing with the men in a short tree-climbing venture.

Then outbursts of “Vielen Dank!” and “Danke sehr!” overtook the orchard as three of the older children brought out more wine and loaves of bread. It must have been Bismarck’s doing, or even Moltke’s, and Gilbert would need to find something to thank them with later. Cups were shared out, closely chased behind by the bottles, and the loaves of bread were broken apart and tossed around, all the while becoming even better for Gilbert as one man broke into song and the others followed suit, Gilbert positively beaming at first.

“Wo Lieb und Treu sich um den König reihen, wo Fürst und Volk sich reichen so die Hand, da muß des Volkes wahres Glück gedeihen,da blüht und wächst das schöne Vaterland, " they all sang together even though the apple wine was weak in comparison to any beer they might acquire. The three children joined in too at Gilbert’s excited beckoning. “So schwören wir aufs neue dem König Lieb und Treue!”

They raised their cups into the air in cheers. “Fest sei der Bund! Ja schlaget mutig ein: Wir sind ja Preußen, laßt uns Preußen sein.”

Taking a final piece of bread and another cup of wine as things settled down once more, Gilbert was soon venturing out into the orchard, the call of the rustling trees in the light breeze and the extra shade from the hot sun too much for him to resist. The apples looked just right for eating and, as much as the family here had offered already, he would see about asking for some to take with him for the rest of his journey north.

The orchard had looked small from the cottage but soon Gilbert could no longer hear the sounds of celebrations or booming voices. Stopping and looking around, he could not see the cottage through the dense layer of trees. Green and summer-yellowed foliage seemed to light up above him, spots of sunlight gracing the dry grass below showed the speckles of fresh pollen fluttering in the air.

All was quiet.

Gilbert took a sip of wine, bit off a small chunk of bread, and began to hum. The words were clear enough in his head, and then light on his lips as he spoke through the chewing. “Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue, Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang sollen in der Welt behalten ihren alten schönen Klang, und zu edler Tat begeistern unser ganzes Leben lang.”



(OOC: Hopefully my adoration for this particular time period and situation showed up in more than just the length. I also saw lots of other people coloring quotes so I decided to try it too. Hopefully it didn't just make it more confusing. XD

The first song is stanza five of the Preußenlied: "Where love and faithfulness devote themselves to the king in such way, where King and people give each other the hand, there has to prosper the peoples true happiness, there blooms and prospers the beautiful Fatherland. And thus we swear anew: love and loyality to the King! Firm be that bond! Yes, bravely join the bond. For we are Prussians, let's be Prussians."

The second song is part of stanza two of the Deutschlandlied: "German women, German loyalty, German wine, and German song shall retain in the world their old beautiful chime and inspire us to noble deeds during all of our life.")

[Germany]

Warmth.

That was the very first sensation the child spirit had; he was being bathed in something warm and indescribably pleasant that literally engulfed every part of him. Something with no weight and no form that was everywhere at once. Something with a pure, golden essence that flowed in a wonderfully sweet, gentle way.

It happened suddenly: a great explosion of sensory and consciousness. The Big Bang in miniature.

He could feel more than just The Warmth now — something strong was pulling on him in an unfamiliar way; something harsh, cool, and corporeal was somehow touching him. All at once he felt connected to millions of living souls all bound together in a dancing, vibrant, ever-changing network of thought and energy that spanned an almost insignificantly tiny portion of “space” at a specific point in “time”. It was like a billion volts of electricity coursing through his being: he was aware that each and every individual soul in this particular network — the small but marvelously lively, unique tapestry that was known as the North German Confederation — contributed something to him. He existed as a composite of them — a physical, now flesh-and-blood representation of the masses, every aspect of his human mind and body taken from the whole and blended together in a unique way which emphasized and over-represented some facets above others, because not all could fit into a single biological entity. But these “unused” portions remained just as much a part of him as any other, and they formed a brilliantly burning connection to his newborn soul, existing simultaneously both within and outside of it, as they too remain connected to every part of the network.

The child drew his first breath. Then he opened his eyes.

Light!

A blindingly luminous yellow-white ball blazed overhead in a boundless expanse of blue dotted with puffs of white. Its brilliance caused an unpleasant sensation in the boy’s eyes, prompting him to bring a hand up to shield them and look away.

He was laying on his back with something firm beneath him. Pleasant, calming noises reached his ears. The lazy, warm air was perfumed with sweet fragrances.

In one swift movement he rolled over and pushed himself up onto his knees in a sitting position. There was so much out here! So many odd-looking things…their names came to him in a sudden massive flood of information that also encoded concepts and ideas as two languages simultaneously exploded into his mind.

The glowing ball was called “the sun”, the puffs of white, “clouds”, and the blue they were sitting in was “the sky”. The yellow-green and yellow-brown strands around him were called “grass”. Grass was a type of “plant”, though he didn’t really understand what it meant to be a “plant”. The big brownish things poking out of the “ground” and reaching up to the sky with “branches” full of greenish “leaves” were called “trees”; they were also a type of plant. The all-pervading calming sounds turned out to be mainly the cheerful songs of birds and the rushing of water in a nearby river.

It was an epiphany of epic proportions: at only a few minutes old, the newborn proto-nation — who already had the physical body and appearance of a human child between the ages of 4 and 5 years old — had the basic knowledge to match. He glanced down at the back of his hands and arms, noting the way the sunlight ( which he now knew to be The Warmth he had first felt ) glowed on his fair skin.

North German Confederation. Is that who I am?

The question was rhetorical; deep down, in the core of his soul, he knew that yes, he was the North German Confederation. With this recognition came recognition of the fact that he was definitely different from regular humans in ways that went beyond him simply being a…just what was he, anyway?

A country?

But I can’t be, because I don’t have a boss…or do I?

Even at such a young age, the proto-nation understood that a boss/leader was one of the things he needed in order to be a true country. It was one of those things he just inherently knew.

But I have people…I must be a half-country. Yeah. That’s gotta be it.

Satisfied that he had solved the mystery, little North German Confederation stood up. The magic that had created him had clothed him in a simple white blouse, underwear, and tan pants, nothing more. He dug his toes into the dirt and dry grass, savoring their texture and warmth.

Then an exciting thought took hold of him. I wonder what I look like? The next few minutes were spent examining as much of his body as he could, but try as he may, he could never see more than a few lochs and tufts of his hair at a time to determine if all of if it was that wonderful yellow color, and the features of his face remained just as elusive to him as the color of his eyes.

Wait a moment. Water was reflective, wasn’t it? Why, he could just go down to the river to have a look!

Burning with curiosity, the boy at once lit off in the direction of the river with a song in his heart and unbridled energy, his feet flying over the yellowed, somewhat crunchy grass.

Reaching the water, he balanced himself carefully on the edge of the riverbank and peered in. But the swiftly-flowing water was glass-clear, and instead of his reflection all he saw on the surface were a few insects. Below lay an entire other world full of finely-rounded rocks and pebbles, twigs, and mulched leaves.

Wow! Forgetting all about wanting to see his face, he extended a foot and touched his toes to the water. It felt so cool, and wet! His eyes sparkled with fascinated delight as the flowing water separated into two rivets around his foot. He longed to dash in and wade clear out to his stomach, but the river was too large for a small boy, and he was overcome with a feeling that, at least for now, he shouldn’t.

There was so much to do, see, and explore!

Overwhelmed with awe, North German Confederation spent the next hour or so running around through the tall grass and weaving between trees, pouncing on insects, rushing at small animals, and generally frolicking about for the sheer joy of being alive.

By and by some of his energy wore off and his excitement wound down a few notches. For the first time, he realized he was hungry. He thought of the big, ripe apples growing on the trees that hugged either side of the big river. Those sure looked tasty. He could eat while he cooled off under the shade of the trees — perhaps even find a nice little shallow spot in the river where the current was not so strong and he could go for a refreshing swim.

Finding the densely-packed apple trees, climbing one, acquiring a pair of ripe, delicious apples proved to be easy tasks. However, in spite of the fact that he was sure that he had not wandered far from where he was born, the river was nowhere to be seen. Puzzled, the little proto-nation begin venturing deeper into the orchard where the trees grew higher and the shade thicker, taking generous bites out of one of the apples he held.

The river had been shaded on both sides by larger trees: of that he was certain. Walking on the beautifully sun-dappled forest floor, he listened for the familiar gurgle of water while he continued to much his apple.

That’s when he heard it. At first it was faint, and he had a hard time discerning it from the breeze rustling through the leaves of the trees. But with every second that passed it grew louder and more distinct, until he was sure that something else was coming his way: something that walked with heavier steps than he was accustomed to hearing and had to be bigger than the squirrels, fowl, and rabbits he’d been scaring all day.

Maybe it’s a deer?

He’d never seen one before, but he knew what they looked like. A deer walked on four legs and was covered in short, mostly brownish-red fur. They were harmless. At least, he thought they were harmless.

Movement ahead!

The young blonde dashed behind the nearest tree and peered around the side, more curious than anything else.

“Deutsche Frauen, deutsche Treue, Deutscher Wein und deutscher Sang sollen in der…”

A man’s voice, singing!

North German Confederation’s heart sped up; he almost dropped one of his apples.

A human!

The man was in sight now and rapidly approaching. North German Confederation’s eyes followed him steadily as he moved between the trees. Apart from his cheery singing, the first thing he noticed about him was his adult height — which made him a bit of an intimidating figure — followed immediately by his style of dress, which involved a beautiful long, fancy blue jacket set off with golden buttons, a white belt tied around his waist, and black boots. His hair was white, and his complexion was just a bit paler than North German Confederation’s own. For all intents and purposes, he looked like an important person.

But was he friend or foe?

“…Welt behalten ihren alten schönen Klang, und zu edler Tat begeistern unser ganzes Leben lang.”

Blue Jacket sounded so happy humming German praises between chewing bites of bread. He was clearly in high spirits, and certainly seemed approachable.

Well, he was going to see the boy any moment now anyway — North German Confederation decided he might as well try to make friends. It would be nice to have someone to talk to out here, someone who understood at least one of his languages.

Wait for it…wait for it…

Right when Blue Jacket was almost on top of him, he burst out in front of him without warning and held out his right hand, boldly offering his unbitten apple in a gesture of goodwill. “Want an apple?” he asked in a rush of German, lifting the fruit towards the adult’s chest and praying he didn’t look as nervous and awkward as he felt. Slowing his speech down a little, he added, “I like that song you were humming…does it have a name?”

[Prussia]

The further Gilbert walked, the more buoyant his spirit became. There was a bounce in his step and an unfamiliar sort of warmth spreading across his chest, whether from the wine or sheer contentment he could not tell. Maybe it was both. It was, however, a comfortable feeling, like he had found his place in the world, like he had found home, like he didn’t have a care in the world. The lush orchards surrounding him were gentle on his eyes with the green and golden-tinged light. The sweet fragrance filled his chest with each breath he took while he amused himself with a song that he had not heard for years, but which now came so easily to his lips.

“Want an apple?”

There was a stunned and incoherent pause as he came back from whatever thought and sense he had fallen into, his gaze dropping suddenly and without warning to look down at the little person who had so unexpectedly appeared. Gilbert's heel touched the dirt, his foot not entirely planted onto the ground.

“I like that song you were humming…does it have a name?”

That did it. "Ah! Scheiße!" Gilbert exclaimed in a momentarily delayed surprise. He managed to catch the little portion of bread in midair at the last moment when it leaped from his hand but still he stumbled back a step in utter shock at the unexpected greeting. Where the hell did he come from? The wine had unceremoniously splashed out of his cup and managed to avoid hitting the ground, instead coating his sleeve and hand instead. Gilbert glanced at the child before moving the cup into the bread hand in so that he might shake his damp sleeve off--

His eyes snapped back. Looking past the apple and past the tiny hand that held it up, his face turning down in order to compensate for the radical height--the kid's uplifting hand didn't quite came up to Gilbert's waist—and then he saw exactly what he thought he saw: the blue eyes looking intent yet nervous, the tufts of blond hair over the innocent face, baby fat still evident.

Holy...

Roman...

Empire...

No. It wasn't. Not only was it impossible--Gilbert had held Imperium's lifeless and cold body in his own arms--but this boy's untidy mop of hair was far more golden, his eyes a brighter blue despite the shade of the trees.

It couldn't be the Holy Roman Empire, Gilbert knew, but there was something else at play in Gilbert’s head and it wasn't due to the apple wine. At least he didn’t think it did, for something was surely knocking within his chest and pulsing within his very veins. Something pure and good. The sound of his prior humming seemed to hang in the warm and sweet-smelling air even moments after the sound had been cut off. Now all he could hear was the resonance of the child’s voice that somehow overcome his own.

With the apple still held out to him, Gilbert had to search his scrambled thoughts a moment before remembering just what was asked. "J-Ja, Danke," he said, surprised at his sudden case of nerves but unable to shake it off. It was a child for Christ's sake! A child who didn’t even have shoes. Nonetheless, he couldn't shake the feeling that this was not some random encounter.

Gilbert palmed the bread so he could take the apple. For some reason, after he took it with a slow moving hand, he realized he hadn’t even thought of saying no. Maybe he had to ease up on the apple wine next time.

"The song?" He tilted his head to the side in thought, red eyes unable to look away from the blue. "What's it called... Um...” Then he did look away, only to look back a moment later. “Ah... Deutschlandlied." Gilbert perked up at remembering, then laughed, his shoulders relaxing as a realization came to him. Of course! How obvious! "You know, your parents are pretty nice people, sending their kid this far out to bring me” –the word spoken with a slight lit in his voice, managing to honor himself in the simple sentence—“an apple." His face tilted up as he looked into the branches and at the red fruit tucked in amongst green leaves, not so far out of reach. "Could have easily gotten one myself, though."

Unused to behaving around children and having an unusual childhood himself, especially when put in comparison with these modern times, he had no qualms with lowering his cup down to the child who looked so much like the Holy Roman Empire he had grown up with--grown up with and then surpassed in haste. "Want some?" he asked, a soft smile spreading on his face as the calmness returned to him, his feelings of nervousness abating as the warm, home-like feeling returned. He liked kids, having made an awesome one himself centuries ago. “Go ahead and try it. It's the best damn Apfelwein I’ve had in years!”

[Germany]

Thoroughly immersed in a delightfully animated, musical world all his own, Blue Jacket had obviously not been paying as close attention to his surroundings as North German Confederation had thought. The boy’s sudden appearance froze the fancily-dressed gentleman mid-stride, his drink sloshing out of his cup and drenching his hand and sleeve. A curious exclamation of surprise passed his lips as his lively red eyes jumped from North German Confederation to his cup, then back again as he moved the cup over to the hand that was holding his bread and proceeded to shake out his soggy sleeve.

Then those lively red eyes were bearing down on North German Confederation again.

Blue Jacket made a funny face as he stared at him, and for a few scary moments North German Confederation worried that perhaps he didn’t like apples: that maybe the man was offended by the offer. Though his feet remained planted firmly in one place, and his face remained pointed respectfully in the direction of the much larger, vaguely-scary person standing before him, his eyes began searching out an escape route should things turn sour.

If he attacks, I’ll hit him in the face with the apple and run. he decided.

Yet even in the midst of this anxiety, a warm flood of familiarity began to wash over the newborn proto-nation. Blue Jacket seemed so…kindred. In spite of the slightly imposing air his strange expression and larger size gave him, his presence was comforting. It was an odd feeling, but odd in the best way possible, and the child found himself relaxing even before the man finally spoke.

"J-Ja, Danke.”

Yes! He is friendly! North German Confederation smiled sweetly, all traces of apprehension destroyed by the ring of those simple, kindly-spoken words that expressed acceptance and gratitude.

The man reached down and took the apple. North German Confederation’s freshly-emptied hand fell back to his side, and he waited eagerly for him to say more; Blue Jacket’s voice sounded just as pleasant in conversational speech as it did humming a tune.

He didn’t have long to wait.

"The song?" Crimson eyes alighted upon his now, the laughing gaze cultivating the warm, happy, familiar sensation that was already billowing up within North German Confederation ’s chest.

Blue Jacket faltered for a moment, thinking aloud, trying to recall the song’s name. “Ah... Deutschlandlied." he said after a few seconds, breaking out into a laugh. "You know, your parents are pretty nice people, sending their kid this far out to bring me…an apple.”


My…parents? North German Confederation’s smile slipped. He tore his eyes away from Blue Jacket’s gaze, casting them instead to his feet, a mildly crestfallen expression settling over his face. A parent was an adult in a child’s life that loved and took care of that child, protecting him from danger, playing with him, and teaching him things. Parents usually came in a set of two: a girl “mother” and a boy “father”. North German Confederation wasn’t sure where parents came from or how they decided which children to take into their homes and hearts, but he was very certain he hadn’t seen anyone who could possibly be one of his parents in the area, with the exception of Blue Jacket, who obviously wasn’t his father if he thought someone else was. Do half-countries even have parents?

He really hoped so. As strong, smart, and able as he already was — and he was sure he could survive on his own if he had to — the idea of having someone in his life to love and care for him, to protect him, to play with him and to teach him new things was irresistibly entrancing. A large part of him yearned for it.

Maybe…maybe Blue Jacket will want to adopt me?

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind then the white-haired nobleman remarked that he could have easily gotten an apple himself. North German Confederation lifted his head back up and looked curiously into Blue Jacket’s face, searching it for clues to his intent. At that moment, another strange feeling began to surface within him: a feeling that the boy was just now beginning to realize had been present from the moment he had first lain eyes on the man, but which had been temporarily eclipsed by the feeling of kindredness and familiarity.

There was…something special about Blue Jacket. An aura of greatness hung about him.

Then the nobleman was slowly lowering his cup, smiling serenely as he offered the contents to North German Confederation. “Go ahead and try it. It's the best damn Apfelwein I’ve had in years!”

“Apfelwein?” the child repeated deliberately, trying the halfway unfamiliar word out on his tongue. He put his head over the cup and stared into the dark liquid for a moment. Then he pressed his lips against the rim and pushed downward until the Apfelwein was trickling into his mouth.

Blue Jacket’s right, this stuff is good! He immediately found the tart, sour taste to his liking, and began drinking heartily, his eyes closing in contentment. When he had drunk off the top of the liquid, he brought both hands up around the cup and tilted it — still in Blue Jacket’s hands — downward to get more.

Seconds later he drew away, having taken all he could stand for the time being. “You’re right,” he said agreeably, licking some of the moisture off his lips, “It is the best damn Apfelwein.” His joy faded with his next words, a note of sorrow entering his voice as he continued “But…but my parents didn’t send me out here to get anything. I don’t have any.” The connection he felt with Blue Jacket seemed to deepen with the admission. “But!” he added hopefully, “But you’re such a nice nobleman —” his words came faster now, the drum of his heart intensifying, mounting anxiety forcing the ideas to his mouth at a quicker and quicker rate with each word, “and you have such a pretty jacket, and a pretty singing voice, and…and...andwillyoupleasebemyparentbecauseI’mallalone?” The last sentence tumbled out of his mouth in a conjoined awkward mess. Then a sudden, powerful fear of rejection overcame him, and, dropping his half-consumed apple, he launched himself into one of the man’s legs, wrapping both arms around it and burying his face into the fine fabric. “I won’t be a problem, I promise! And even though you don’t need help getting apples, I can help in other ways…” he trailed off, unsure of how exactly he could help, but determined to try anyway. Pulling away from Blue Jacket’s leg, he summoned the courage to again gaze into those lively red eyes. “…I’m a fast runner,” he offered brightly, making his voice as strong as he could “and pretty strong.”

Maybe, if Blue Jacket knew how useful he could be, he might want to keep him around.

____________________________________________________

A/N: Gotta love how straightforward little kids are. Ludwig is so innocent and naïve at this point. XD

[Prussia]

Looking up into the branches of the trees, specks of golden light falling across his pale face, Gilbert did not see how the smile slipped from the child's face at the mention of parents. All he could envision was his own happy childhood full of white tunics, black iron crosses, and the glint of metal flashing from a clean cut stroke. The Knights, and the mercenaries and priests too, had been good to him and he had grown up gloriously to become one of the five great powers of Europe. It was yet another reason for him to share the drink to the boy: another German with which to celebrate Prussia’s success and glory, a young German who would grow up within Prussia's future Empire. Hell, Gilbert already felt the warm sense of camaraderie between them. Damn that old Bismarck! The unification is working better than expected, he thought pleasantly.

The boy peeked into the cup and so Gilbert tilted it some more so that the contents could be seen. Then without even taking it, which was what was expected, the young boy drank from it while leaving the cup in Gilbert's hands. The Prussian blinked in surprise, a bit embarrassed and not sure what to do—did the kid need a bottle or something? The cup isn’t that heavy—but he stood patiently, leaning down a little still to hold the cup. As he watched, he couldn’t help but marvel at how cute the kid was and he couldn’t help feeling a little bit of affection for the boy, as unusual as that seemed for someone who was so used to being alone. Small hands brushed against his as the child hungrily drank more from the cup. Gilbert chuckled and finally took a bite of the apple that had been so kindly and unexpectedly given to him. "Easy now," he said under his breath, the apple sweet and refreshing as he chewed and swallowed it.

"You’re right." A bright face looked up at him from behind the cup. "It is the best damn Apfelwein."

Gilbert laughed heartily at that, hearing his own words repeated back to him in that child’s voice. "I'd hope so!" He stood up properly and checked to see how much was left. "Especially since you drank most of it." Looking back, his own smiling face fell some when he saw that the child lacked the delight from a moment ago.

The next part of their conversation confused him. No parents? But didn't the kid belong to that cottage family? Although while Gilbert listened, taking another bite of the apple, he could remember the family with their dark brown hair and... were they green or brown eyes? Now that he thought about it--the boy's words racing on even faster as he rushed through the clear sound of praises for Gilbert with "...such a nice nobleman..."--the chubby face of the child looked nothing like the skinny little girl who had let him outside, or the thin children who had brought more apple wine.

"...and you have such a pretty jacket, and a pretty singing voice, and and...andwillyoupleasebemyparentbecauseI’mallalone?"

Gilbert prided himself for his agility and quick maneuvers either on a horse, with a sword, or reloading his gun. This child had just bested him by saying approximately ten words in a single beat. And then bested him once again, for the child surged forward with surprising speed when Gilbert opened his mouth wider to speak. A small collision. The desperate face of the boy, whose eyes seemed to scrunch up in some sort of fear or horror, was quickly buried into the 'pretty jacket', thin arms wrapping around Gilbert's legs in a vice grip. Small fingers clung to his clothes. Somewhere in there was the falling thud of the apple and the dull clink of the cup, which had finally succeeding in escaping Gilbert's grasp.

Somehow the kid just kept catching him off guard, but nothing could have prepared him for the sudden flash of white. He could hear the bustling street noises of Dresden, could see the free cities of Bremen, Hamburg, and Lübeck, and then of Anhalt and Oldenburg.

Gilbert's hand jumped to grab the boy's shoulder but was unable to push him away. Another thud resounded as the apple, with its two bites, hit the ground and rolled away. A shiver raced through him at a sudden thought that he might disappear, his own sense of Berlin feeling like it would rip away and his own mountains and villages and coastline would—

The feeling was fleeting. Just as suddenly as it had started it all stopped. He was simply standing there in the shaded orchard, the heavy fragrance of ripened apples and the sound of the slowly flowing river a little heavier than before, but nothing louder than a soft whisper. Even the branches of the trees seemed to hum and bristle around them.

“I won’t be a problem, I promise!" the child’s desperate voice drew all of his attention.

Gilbert's finger twitched but his jaw was set in determination, his free hand moving to rest on top of the child's cherubic blond hair. "Ja, ich weiß," he said, his voice but a whisper, still marveling over the growing sense of understanding.

"And even though you don’t need help getting apples, I can help in other ways…”

"Ich weiß." He wasn't sure if he was saying the words or simply mouthing them while the child clung to him so and spoke with such rapid and intense desperation. It was a strange feeling, something he had never felt before: someone wanting and yearning to be with him.

Good God, those blue eyes looking back at him with so much hope and need it nearly had Gilbert balk. The feeling he couldn’t shake off before now had a name, a title. The words written on the peace agreement, his signature just one of many, was as plain to his eyes as though it had been dug into the ground right in front of him. This little kid is…

When the boy pulled away, Gilbert kept his hands where they were to keep them connected. Perhaps the kid would have been better off if he hadn’t run right into Gilbert’s arms, but now that Gilbert had him, he would not let any other nation have him.

"I'm a fast runner and pretty strong."

"I know that far better than you think, North German Confederation," he said, his voice with a force of its own and a crooked grin growing on his face, his normally pale cheeks tinged with a hint of excitement and a new exhilaration. "That’s your name, right? Heh! You don't even need to ask. I’m here to help you, kid. And…” There was a short pause. "You mean you don’t know who I am, yet?" He added slight pressure to the child's head, smoothing back the feathery-light hair to expose more of that innocent face and to keep the boy looking up at him. "You think a simple nobleman could look as awesome as a nation like me? I don’t believe it for a second!” Then he laughed louder, knowing how a few other of those idiotic nations would be shocked to hear anyone refer to Gilbert as something higher than a nobleman’s shoe polisher.

Without further ado, however, he kept a hand on the boy’s shoulder and came down on one knee to the ground so that they might see eye to eye. His other arm crossed over his propped up knee, the knight in him not entirely extinguished. “The mighty Königreich Preußen at your service, mein Norddeutscher Bund."


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A/N: It's true! Little Ludwig is just too cute. XD Plus then it just makes it so much more blatant how corrupted he's going to become, having a brother like Gilbert. ^^;

[Germany]

An instant after he had finished listing some of the ways in which he could be an asset, North German Confederation noticed the apple he had offered laying on the ground alongside the one he had dropped earlier with only a few bites taken out of it. Also laying on the ground was Blue Jacket’s cup, which had at some point slipped out of the nobleman’s hands ( maybe it was too slippery? ).

And…was Blue Jacket’s hand on his shoulder?

Yes.

Yes it was.

In his excitement he hadn’t even felt the contact at the moment it had happened.

North German Confederation wasn’t entirely certain if that was a good sign or a bad sign, but his instincts told him not to worry about it. Curious, he looked up to see Blue Jacket just standing there, a weird look frozen upon his face, his red eyes staring straight ahead at a stand of trees along a gentle bend in the path several meters away.

No. He didn’t seem to be staring at the trees, but rather through them, as though they weren’t even there.

The proto-nation held his breath; felt the adult’s hand solidly on his shoulder. Blue Jacket was thinking long and hard about his request.

Or maybe he wasn’t, because his answer came quicker than expected. "I know that far better than you think, North German Confederation," he said, suddenly looking and sounding very excited as his cheeks began to flush with color and an uneven smile split his face.

Huh?! How does he know my —

"That’s your name, right? Heh! You don't even need to ask.”

North German Confederation blinked, his expression equal parts confusion and astonishment. He stared up at the happy white-haired nobleman with impossibly big blue eyes, eyes that sparkled with the magic of fresh life and hope.

“I’m here to help you, kid.”

JA!

The child felt his spirits soar, a feverish excitement igniting within his chest and shooting upward like a flaming comet until it shone out his eyes and radiated from his whole face.

He wants me! He’s going to be my family! The smile from earlier returned with powerful force, and it was as if all the joy in the world were contained in it. The apples were forgotten. The cup was forgotten. Even the wonderfully delicious Apfelwein — the best to be had — was forgotten. For a moment, the world stood still, and it was just him and Blue Jacket; the wonderful man who had found him, and who knew his name without him telling him, and who wanted to help him. The man with whom he felt a deep inexplicable connection: a flood of warmness and familiarity. The man who wore a shroud of greatness, who would rear him up to be an amazing and powerful nation.

Wait…Blue Jacket must have a name.

“You know my name, but I don’t know yours,” North German Confederation admitted, a little embarrassed. “What is it?”

"You mean you don’t know who I am, yet?” Blue Jacket seemed amused.

North German Confederation shook his head, and was suddenly aware of Blue Jacket’s other hand pressing down lightly on his scalp, tenderly brushing his hair back away from his face. It was a rather pleasant sensation, one which made him feel safe and loved. “No. Should I?”

Blue Jacket was staring straight into his eyes now, and the invisible air of greatness which hung about him was so strong now that it almost had color, a big billowing veil lighter than air that encompassed all the area around him, extending for several centimeters from his body. North German Confederation gazed deeply into the those spirited red eyes as though they held all truth and yet contained some profound mystery. Deep within, a wonderfully dazzling, powerful flame seemed to be dancing in each eye. These flames could not be seen but for the rippling, glittering effects they had on the irises that contained them.

This specialness…could he be…

"You think a simple nobleman could look as awesome as a nation like me? I don’t believe it for a second!”

“You’re a nation?” North German Confederation gasped. Suddenly it all made sense: the greatness which enshrouded Blue Jacket, the strange fire burning behind his eyes, the feeling of kinship — what he had been sensing was nationness.

Blue Jacket roared with laughter. Then, still holding the child’s shoulder, he knelt down on one knee like a knight in a fairy tale, bringing them almost eye-to-eye. “The mighty Königreich Preußen at your service, mein Norddeutscher Bund."

If it had been possible, North German Confederation would have burst with happiness. This was too good to be true, and he couldn’t believe how incredibly fortunate and lucky he was: not only had he encountered his first true nation, but that nation had wholly accepted him into his heart and life!

A playful breeze ruffled the leaves overhead, changing the pattern of dappled sunlight and shadow which fell over them and gently swaying the apples. Dozens of little birds continued their merry songs from the cool safety of the boughs. The sound of rushing water betrayed the river, that was so close, and yet so far away.

And the world truly was a magnificent place, full of so much hope, and wonder, and so many good things. Filled to the brim with excitement, joy, and a fierce passion for life, North German Confederation couldn’t wait to start learning and exploring, to see and do all the world had to offer!

“Königreich Preußen.” he repeated, trying out the country’s name, “So that’s your name. Wow…you’re the first country I’ve met. And…” he paused, remembering a montage of illustrated pictures from children’s fairy tales that had been planted into his mind the moment he first truly awoke in this warm, sunny place “are you also a knight? Because you’re acting just like one: they’re always kneeling and saying they’re at people’s service too.” he paused for a moment, bringing the stories to mind. Knights were never without their armor. Specifically, they wore shining armor. The Kingdom of Prussia wasn’t wearing any type of armor at all, shining or otherwise. There was a small note of disappointment in his voice as he continued. “Although I suppose you can’t be because you’re not wearing any shining armor.”

Rats. It would have been amazing to meet a real knight, especially a country knight. I’ll bet a country knight could really put the hurts on the evil monsters and dragons..[/color][/i]

He brightened. “But you’re at my service, so you’ll teach me to be as awesome as you are, right? I want to be a great nation someday too!”

[Prussia]

The happiness that greeted Gilbert's acknowledgment of the North German Confederation was a type that Gilbert had never known before. It was a strange, unusual sight. It was a remarkable feeling, too. He had had his fair share of leaders, had greeted, attacked, fought, and joined in unions and alliances with a fair share of other nations, too, but none had ever looked quite that thrilled to see him. Other nations especially had a tendency to hide their admiration, especially when in Gilbert's glorifying presence. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that the North German Confederation was his, whether the boy knew it or not. The little nation was born from Prussia's thoughts, from Gilbert's ambition. Perhaps that was why the boy was extraordinarily fond of Gilbert right away, the slightest bit of happiness bubbling forth from the smallest of Gilbert's actions and words. If ever there was a way to create a better nation than this, he neither knew nor had any interest in finding out.

Having found his place in the world well over a century ago, it was also bemusing for Gilbert to have to introduce himself. There was nothing wrong with that, however, because that meant the little North German Confederation would be able to learn about the great Kingdom of Prussia directly from the awesome nation himself.

That didn't, however, keep Gilbert's lip from twitching when the kid looked completely shocked to hear Gilbert was a nation--had he seriously mistaken him for a nobleman? As just an average soldier like the Frau had? But it was a little kid and so that kind of naivety was to be expected. Kids were supposed to go about having fun and enjoying themselves, not worrying about the details. The prior admittance that the North German Confederation had not met any other nations was not surprising, either. This Confederation was Prussia's and he would not let any other imperialistic nation, like Austria or France, taint or corrupt it.

"I'm the first you've met?" Gilbert asked in mocked surprise. "Then it is my great honor and pleasure, North German Confederation." The words reminded him a bit too much of Francis, which only added to his enjoyment. Won't Francis be thrilled to see you! he nearly crowed.

The first task in building any good empire, Gilbert knew from hearing of the mistakes England and Spain had made, was to kindle and preserve a good relationship. Task accomplished. The happiness in the boy's face only helped reassure Gilbert that their kinship was already deeply rooted. Maybe so deep that the boy had simply been born with it and thus had been drawn to the Prussian like a starving man to a warm supper except, well, it was a child and there were just apples, wine, and songs. Smart kid.

It seemed, however, God or fate had played a hand in leading Gilbert from his celebration with the other soldiers, men, and his king, for there was no logical reason for why he would have strayed so far from food and wine. Maybe the boy had actually lured the Prussian in like a fish caught on a hook, for hadn't Gilbert just minutes ago sing from that old song that asked for monarchs to pick Germany over their independent states?

That’s ridiculous! Like my own Confederation could have control over me!

"Are you also a knight?" Red eyes gleamed brighter. Damn, he's a smart kid! As the boy spoke, voicing his observations, it only helped in raising Gilbert's opinion of the kid. "Although I suppose you can’t be because you’re not wearing any shining armor." The North German Confederation’s disappointed look was matched by Gilbert’s own. The child was in the proper need of a good and sound education. Luckily the Prussian was more than happy to be a proper teacher. Knighthood was just about as close to the bread and butter of Prussia's current Kingdom--potatoes being in some sort of class of their own--and it had done Gilbert just fine. Better than fine. The Prussians were conquering central Europe!

Gilbert looked down at his own chest, barren of the barrage of medals he usually saw on Moltke's or his king's jacket. There was the simple row of buttons climbing up his abdomen, the belt around his waist to keep his jacket down and well-fitted, and a few decorations on the left side of his chest, mostly for rank.

"What about this?" he asked, taking the bottom piece of the cold metal, which hung under his throat, between two fingers. "Do you know what this is? Only the very best knights have it."

The Iron Cross was his pride and glory. It was honestly the oldest thing he could remember. The constant in his life, making it's way off of white tunics and onto black and white flags. Finally it had found its way wrapped around his neck by a black and white ribbon, hanging close to his heart and proud over his chest for the world to see. It was evidence of bravery but armor all the same, for it had protected Gilbert when he had fallen to his knees and had helped give him the strength to rise up.

His voice was thoughtful and honest but echoing with pride and boastfulness. "This is all the armor I need." His thumb and forefinger let the metal rub between them, the delicate engravings being a thrill to touch. "It's shiny, too, isn't it?" It better be, he hoped, having put a little of polish on it after he had cleaned his guns. His grinning persisted when he added: "This was a fated meeting, you know. Only the best kind of Kingdoms can find the best empires."

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A/N: The "Iron Cross" around Gilbert's throat is the Order of the Crown, which can be seen here. It was instituted in 1861 and is equal in rank to the Order of the Red Eagle. I'm still doing research on it, but due to the multiple variants of the award, it seems to be the Order of the Crown, First Class (Krönen Orden 1. Klasse) or Second Class ( 2. Klasse). I selected it for the moderately high ranking, that it is actually in the shape of an Iron Cross (many awards were star-shaped until the Iron Cross itself was re-instituted in 1870-71), the inclusion of the crown in the center, and the writing "Gott Mit Uns" (God is with us).

[Germany]

North German Confederation tilted his head and studied his new friend and mentor seriously. The great and mighty noble Kingdom of Prussia seemed disappointed, and for a horrid second the blond proto-nation worried that perhaps it was him. But no, it turned out to be something that was on his chest. Something small and almost invisible, from the way his eyes kept shifting and he seemed to be having trouble finding it.

Maybe it was a bug.

North German Confederation was about to offer his services in finding and swatting it when Prussia reached under his throat and pulled up a small piece of shiny metal attached to a black and white ribbon which he had only just now noticed hanging around his neck. Pinching it between two fingers, he held it out for the boy to see and asked him if he knew what it was.

“Only the very best knights have it."

North German Confederation scrutinized it closely. The metal was in the shape of a perfect all-sides-equal cross with the arms tapering inward in slight curves to a big circle in the center. This big circle was actually one big circle centered inside a slightly smaller circle: the innermost circle was of the purest gold, and had a crown engraved in the middle. Fancy words in white lettering ran around the violet-blue rim formed by the biggest circle, but since the creation magic responsible for North German Confederation’s birth had only gifted him with the ability to read in one of the languages he knew ( and he could read as well as any adult in that, as all newborn proto-countries could ), he did not know what they said. The arms of the cross itself were white outlined twice in gold — the inner outline was a perfect, though smaller likeness of the outmost outline — and two beautiful, miniature swords — also of gold — looked like they went under the center circle to intersect upwards in another, diagonal cross directly behind the crown for a very regal appearance.

North German Confederation shook his head. It was beautiful, fancy, and very shiny, but it was also completely new to him. “I’ve never seen it before.” he was forced to admit.

He wondered what the decorative piece of metal meant, why all knights had them.

One thing was for sure, Prussia was very proud of it. "This is all the armor I need."

Make that very, very proud of it.

"It's shiny, too, isn't it?" He grinned as he rubbed the little cross affectionately between his thumb and pointer-finger. "This was a fated meeting, you know. Only the best kind of Kingdoms can find the best empires."

“I’m an empire?” North German Confederation asked, his face misting over with innocent confusion. “I thought I was a half-country. And when I get a boss I’ll be all country. Right?”

That’s the way it works…isn’t it? Prussia was already a country — he had admitted as much. Even if, if…empires…were also a kind of country, North German Confederation knew that he still didn’t make the cut. He couldn’t explain how he knew, really…like so many other things, he just did.

Lightly, he reached out with his right hand and fingered Prussia’s cross, enjoying the feel of the cool metal against his skin. “It is very shiny,” he agreed, “What’s it called? And why do all knights have it? And…and how does it protect you from the monsters and dragons?” His fingers still brushing over the cross, he looked with reverence up into the flaming red eyes of the wonderful and amazing country who had decided to adopt him. “Wow…so you really are a real knight!” He was beaming now, his tender face split with an excited grin. “How many dragons have you slain? And what do you do with all those damsels you save?”

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A/N: Yes, little Ludwig worships the ground Prussia walks on. ;D XD Congrats, you've just become his Number One idol! And...sorry about all the rapid-fire questions. He's a curious little bugger. ^^;[/color]

[Prussia]

“I thought I was a half-country. And when I get a boss I’ll be all country. Right?”

Gilbert took a deep breath and wondered idly on where to begin. Telling him that I'm going to make him the strongest empire in Europe might be too much. It was a big responsibility, no doubt, and the boy was, well, pretty small now. It almost seemed an idiotic notion, but it was one that Prussia ran headlong into without a backward glance. Gilbert had been a spirited youth and had had a chance to experience a gradual and painfully slow pace towards maturity--a maturity questioned by his neighbors, but a strength that intimidated most. No matter how boastful Gilbert might be, however, or how strong he might have become, his Kingdom was no Empire. He would need Germany to help him with that one, for the other little states didn't want to be Prussian that much, despite how awesome Gilbert told them it was to be.

Bismarck had had a strange notion one day that he had only recently decided to share with his nation: create a German empire, for the people have thirsted for unity for decades whether they know it or not, and then under the banner for Deutschland, the Prussian King shall reign supreme. The Prussian King, Gilbert's King, would give Gilbert a majority of the power, especially as the Kingdom of Prussia was so much larger than all the other little German nations combined.

This also helped explain why the North German Confederation was so small, in addition to him being merely a half-country.

"Ja, of course you need a boss," Gilbert said, smiling kindly and earnestly. "You need people, too. I'll be helping you get those. And more." He pinched the sides of the cross to allow the boy to have a better look and to be able to touch it freely, for it truly was an awesome decoration. The curiosity--and agreement that was it was shiny--continued to be endearing. Even the childish questions that followed about knights and dragons made the North German Confederation all the, dare Gilbert say it, cuter. Gilbert knew those old stories well and the affection he had for the kid grew stronger, as did the urge to impress him somehow. The Prussian was practically drinking up the amazement glowing off the boy's face.

He gave a low chuckle and patted the boy on the shoulder only to raise his hand back up to settle on the boy's golden blond hair again. Although short for a predestined empire--at this point Gilbert would not take "Nein" for an answer--the North German Confederation was tall. Well over three-feet. Probably three-and-a-half. With such a youthful face, it probably meant that he was tall for his apparent human-age. He will be big when he gets older... But not bigger than me!

"Of course it protects me from monsters and dragons!" Gilbert insisted, having no reservations in the boyishness that seemed to bubble from him. The kneeling was good and all but his knee was starting to ache and so he dropped his hand from the boy's head to sit down on the ground, legs crossed in front of him and looking much like a boy himself despite the uniform."It's the Order of the Crown, first class! Dragons fly off with their tales between their legs at the sight of it!" His hands rested on his knees as he leaned forward and laughed at the mere thought.

There was a bright gleam in Gilbert's eyes from memories of battles and wars, of defeats and victories, thoughts of lazy blue summer skies in Cologne and blood-soaked snows far from home. "The Iron Cross--that's it's shape--gives me some awesome strength and courage." A pale finger poked lightly at the boy's chest, right over the heart, and Gilbert smirked. "I'll tell you just how many dragons I've slain when you've slain one for yourself, just so you can know how awesome I truly am when you finally know how tough it is."

Gilbert should have sat the boy down and explained to him about being an empire, about what sort of future lay in store for him and to clear up any questions about nation-status. Hell, the boy had even looked confused over just what a nation was. But dragons and damsels in distress were far more interesting than lengthy explanations, especially when the dragons and damsels included Gilbert's epic--if well fantasized--deeds.

"I do what any awesome knight does when he rescues a damsal: I pull her up onto the saddle of my horse and we ride off into the sunset!" Not one to leave it so simply, Gilbert made a play of looking left and right before leaning in closer towards the boy and gesturing with a finger for the boy to lean in as well. The smirk broke into a full-face grin, bright white teeth shining mischievously. "And if it's any hint as to how many dragons I've slain, I've ridden off into a lot of sunsets."

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A/N: It's a lucky thing that Prussia sent in so many postcards then! And little Ludwig is an adorable little bugger. I feel Prussia is losing some of his manliness over it and the size of his ego is only going to end up invading another planet. XD

[Germany]

North German Confederation listened as his knowledge was confirmed by the nation before him: yes, he would need a boss. And people. But Prussia was going to help him with those things, so he was already well on his way!

"Of course it protects me from monsters and dragons!"

The boy was spellbound by the cross now, his eyes lighting up all the more. Wow…I want a cross like that! I’ll bet it casts out a magical shield that the dragons can’t get through! It must be magical, he reasoned, otherwise how on earth could such a tiny piece of metal be adequate protection against a dragon’s teeth, fire, and claws when it covered so little of its wearer’s body?

He was surprised — but pleased — when Prussia dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground in front of him, in higher spirits than ever.

“It's the Order of the Crown, first class! Dragons fly off with their tails between their legs at the sight of it!" He laughed, apparently remembering a few such incidences.

Comfortable in the shade, North German Confederation sat down in the same fashion as his hero, intent on hearing every detail of the nation’s most heroic, exciting, death-defying adventures. Knights lived the most fascinating lives — they were always off fighting some evil monster or breaking some wicked spell and saving the day. His eyes sparkled with growing admiration as the white-haired nation before him elaborated.

"The Iron Cross--that's it's shape--gives me some awesome strength and courage."

An ‘Order of the Crown’ Iron Cross, huh? And its magic is awesome strength and courage? The more he learned, the more he realized he had to get his own Iron Cross. The way Prussia talked, no self-respecting knight or country could rightfully call himself a knight or country without one.

Actually, was there really any difference between a knight and a country? Didn’t both represent a group of people and answer to a king? Weren’t both powerful forces for good? Countries were somehow different and stronger than normal people, but then, so were knights…already in his mind the lines were starting to blur, with one being interchangeable for the other.

But Prussia says I’m going to be an empire… Almost imperceptibly, North German Confederation’s smile slipped. Can empires also be knights?

These concerns almost faded when the adult poked his chest right above his heart, drawing his eyes down for a moment to the pallid finger. "I'll tell you just how many dragons I've slain when you've slain one for yourself,” he said cheerfully, sounding very proud indeed, “just so you can know how awesome I truly am when you finally know how tough it is."

Wow…I bet it’s really tough! Dragons are so big and mean.

So, the stories didn’t lie; knights really did take rescued damsels up onto their horses and ride away into the sunset. Still, North German Confederation found himself wondering just where exactly it was that they went and where they put them. Where did people end up if they followed the sun long enough? Did Prussia have a big tower full of pretty young girls somewhere?

Maybe he did, because he looked first left, then right, making dead certain that they were alone. Then he leaned in close and gestured for North German Confederation to do the same, as though he were about to share a big secret.

The boy leaned forward intently, all ears.

The knight’s face split with a prideful grin. “And if it's any hint as to how many dragons I've slain, I've ridden off into a lot of sunsets."

“Wow,” the boy half whispered, staring at Prussia as though he were a god, “You must have a whole tower full of damsels then! But what do you do with the dead drag…oh, I suppose you’d give them to your king. Dragon hide makes good armor, doesn’t it? And some of the stories say their teeth can be used for swords, and their blood can cure the sick and break enchantments.”

That settled it right there.

“Oh, Prussia — I don’t want to be an empire, I want to be a kingdom knight, like you!” He shot up in a flurry of excitement and struck a pose — one foot dramatically in front of the other, one arm extended towards the sky as though it brandished a sword while the other clutched an imaginary shield over his heart. He puffed out his chest and stiffened, trading in his boyish smile for an attempt at the serious, proud, heroic expression the storybook knights all had. All things considered, he did a fairly decent imitation of it, though if he had had a mirror on hand he might have noticed that he looked a bit too happy to be facing down a great evil.

A breeze flared up right then, gently ruffling his fair hair and adding the perfect atmospheric effect to his next words. “I’ll slay dragons for my king and rescue damsels!” he declared valiantly in his best ‘hero’ voice, “But…I’ll just let them go when I rescue them, because I don’t want my tower full of girly stuff.” he made a face at the thought. Then he lowered his arm and brought his other foot up even with its congener, breaking the pose.

Gleaming blue eyes met Prussia’s, and a relaxed, toothless smile that was so full of hope appeared on his face. “You’ll teach me how to be the best of the best, right?” he said brightly, some of the animated excitement from earlier now tempered with self-control, “I want an Order of the Crown cross too! I promise to be very good and do exactly what you say. I’ll grow up into a big, strong knight, and we can save our people together!”

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A/N: Oh dear, I think Prussia's ego just may invade Jupiter now. ;D This post was a lot of fun to write...I admit that I giggled out loud in parts, drawing some odd looks from my relatives. xD

[Prussia]

The boy made a spectacular audience, in Gilbert's humbly awesome opinion: completely entranced by the little tale Gilbert weaved, leaning forward in all eagerness to hear it and nearly gaping by the end with eyes so wide and bright they could have lit the halls of the palace in Königsberg during the dead of night. A palace with a tower full of damsels, supposedly. Gilbert laughed, the combination of the wine, the heat, and the new acquisition of his Confederation putting him in the best of moods.

First knights and dragons and now something that could be straight out of Rapunzel, he mused. The boy was so full of questions and information that Gilbert wasn't able to get a word out. It was a pleasantry, however, that the kid arrived already packed full of good, useful knowledge like the uses of dragon hides. All they would need to do now would be find an actual dragon to put that knowledge to use. Perhaps Arthur would know.

"Oh, Prussia — I don’t want to be an empire, I want to be a kingdom knight, like you!"

Now that was not exactly what Gilbert wanted to hear, despite being an awesome knight himself back in the day, but he grinned and let the North German Confederation carry on. The boy leaped up to his feet in excitement and Gilbert leaned back on his hands and tilted his head to the side, white hair lightly shifting on his forehead, and asked expectantly, imitating the deep, rumbling voice of his old Master at Arms: "And what would you do when you became a knight, mighty North German Confederation?"

"I’ll slay dragons for my king and rescue damsels! But…I’ll just let them go when I rescue them, because I don’t want my tower full of girly stuff."

Gilbert roared with laughter, letting one leg unfold and stretch out in front of him and letting it lie just next to the boy's back foot during the completely excellent impersonation of a knight.

It was better than could be expected, so full of life and vitality and that childhood essence Gilbert could remember himself having as boy, as an actual knight. There were no dragons to slay and no damsels in distress to save, but the untapped spirit, courage, and just plain desire to achieve glory had the hairs on the Prussian's arms stand up. What an amazing Confederation Gilbert had somehow conjured up. What an amazing nation this boy will become! "You look like the spitting image of me when I was your age, standing like that!" And it was true, minus the fact that the boy's hair was golden blond where Gilbert's was white, blue eyes where Gilbert's was a deep red. "All you're missing is a strong sword and a good cape!"

“You’ll teach me how to be the best of the best, right?” The boy slowly reigned himself in, brought control over his youth in an attempt to cage it but the innocence was still there, drawing Gilbert in. “I want an Order of the Crown cross too! I promise to be very good and do exactly what you say. I’ll grow up into a big, strong knight, and we can save our people together!”

Gilbert, with all his expertise and experience and training, had only a fraction of the self-control the boy had at that moment. No sooner had the boy stopped speaking, and maybe he had not even finished speaking at all, Gilbert was suddenly up on his knees. He grabbed the boy by the shoulders and pulled them together into a tight embrace with a whoop of excitement. "I'd bet my whole army on it, kid!"

His palms had dirt pressed into them and his sleeve was still lightly dampened by the wine spill, but he hugged with as much fervor as he possessed while trying not to crush the boy's small body. A hug firm enough that when Gilbert leaned back, laughing joyfully, he lifted the kid clean up and off the ground and then pulled the boy, much like a rag doll, back down with him when he fell off his knees and back into a sitting position, lightly positioning the boy to one leg so Gilbert could continue to look at him with deepest pride, both arms continuing to hold the child there.

"But you know," Gilbert said, "No self-respecting Knight or Empire can be called North German Confederation forever. Herr North German Confederation? What a mouthful!” He laughed again, but it held no malice for he had picked the name for the Confederation himself, had written the name several times on paper. He loved the name almost as dearly as his own, for it was his just as much as it was the boy’s. "The King is old. He'll get exhausted halfway through it! Even I wasn't called Deutschordensstaat forever."

"How about..." The Prussian thought for a moment, one arm pulling away so that he could lightly sweep some hair away from his face while his eyes looking off for inspiration. With the two of them so close together, the heat of summer was felt that much stronger. The frequent rustling of green leaves of the trees, the sturdy yet thin trunks, the flowing blue river that shimmered light off the surface in the distance, and the red apples ripe above him. He could still taste the sweet flavor of the wine on his lips.

And then he had it, brought to him by a distant memory of a letter to Old Fritz from a man with a simple request. The man from Halberstadt had brought a pleasant surprise to Gilbert's attention, one that had long-since been forgotten, with that letter but still Old Fritz had given man's request his approval despite Gilbert's sudden suggestions for otherwise. There were no hard feelings left, however, for Gilbert could quite respect a man who would request ownership of a 63 tonnes wine cask, even if, to Gilbert's knowledge, the man had never filled it. What a waste of such good potential!

Gilbert could sense the potential he had in his arms now, one very much lighter and cuter than a 63 tonnes wooden wine barrel, thankfully—although he made a mental note to perhaps track that barrel down one of these days. He smiled honestly at the boy, happiness swelling in his chest and the name sounding good and strong in his thoughts and needing the confirmation of Gilbert's spoken word, for Prussia held the North German Confederation in both written ownership and in his arms.

"Ludwig."

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- Deutschordensstaat = Monastic State of the Teutonic Knights

- Ludwig was named after Lord Ludwig von Spiegel, owner of the 63 tonnes wine casket that can hold 144,000 litres of wine (Read more here!) Why did I name him after this? Because Ludwig von Beethoven is so expected! 8D

[Germany]

Prussia was swift.

The last word had barely left North German Confederation’s mouth before he was letting out a small, voiceless squeak, surprised at the blur of motion and the sudden pressure on his shoulders. Powerful arms pulled him into a tight, all-inclusive hug.

“I’d bet my whole army on it, kid!”

Squeezed firmly against the adult’s body with his chin resting on the coarse fabric covering Prussia’s shoulder and their cheeks touching, North German Confederation could not see the other’s expression, but it was impossible for anyone to sound happier. In fact, from his tone of voice and happy little whoop of excitement anyone would think the blue-clad knight nation had just slain ten dragons and ten witches, broken a dozen evil enchantments, won the hearts of no less than ten damsels, and been declared King of the World.

Light as a feather with bliss, aspiration, unwavering adoration, and near-unbridled optimism for the future, North German Confederation pressed his cheek against Prussia’s.

He was so warm!

And that wispy white hair was so soft.

With a bit of effort he managed to free his arms from under him and throw them over the shoulders of his new parent/mentor/guardian/whatever Prussia ultimately ended up being to him, returning his heartfelt embrace with one of his own, smiling gently and nuzzling into him in a frenzy of affection. Everything was happening so fast, and going so much better than he’d expected…it was almost unreal. Prussia was such a nice, fearless, all-around awesome knight, and he was going to be just like him someday!

Then all at once he was in motion, his arms coming free from Prussia’s neck as the man tossed him up into the air with the greatest of ease, his mirthful laughter filling his ears. North German Confederation’s heart jumped in excitement, but the flight was extremely short-lived. He came down in Prussia’s lap, the larger falling over backwards a little before straightening up and settling him on his lap.

There the white-haired nation continued to hold on to him with both hands — almost as though he were afraid to let go — as he proceeded to inform him that his name was too long. “Herr North German Confederation? What a mouthful!”

“But that’s-” North German Confederation started. He intended to finish it with “my name”,, but never got the chance.

Laughing the same, mirthful laugh as before, Prussia explained that the king was an old man who was apparently exhausted by the very act of speaking. He said that he’d had to change his name, too, presumably to make it easier for the aforementioned king.

Your name was Deutschordensstaat? North German Confederation had to admit that Preußen was shorter and easier to say, though it was odd that he’d been renamed completely. Perhaps his own name could be shortened somehow?

Prussia was already on it. "How about..." He paused, moved one of his hands to flick some hair out of his face, and looked away.

Thinking hard, no doubt.

North German Confederation tensed up and remained silent, waiting to hear what the knight would christen him with baited breath. I hope it’s something good! But then, this was Prussia, how could it not be?

For a few moments he waited, looking down at his hands and trying to rub and scrape the dirt off them, tasting the tart remnants of the apple wine on his tongue, listening to the tranquil sounds of nature. It was so peaceful out here. So soothing. I wonder what it’s like inside a village or city?

A lot less peaceful, he imagined, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Prussia turned to him, smiling warmly. “Ludwig.”

“Ludwig.” North German Confederation repeated thoughtfully, trying the name out. Still as a statue on his red-eyed hero’s knee, he looked up and met his gaze with a measure of seriousness and maturity unknown to most kids his apparent ‘age’. “I like it.”

He really did, too, though Prussia could have thrown the ugliest name known to mankind out there and he would have said the same only to please him. Sure, he would like to be called by something he liked, but so long as Prussia was with him teaching him to be an awesome nation/knight…well, that was the most important thing.

“Ludwig.” He repeated the name again for good measure, this time with extra emphasis and extreme pride, his chin tilting up boastfully and his eyes half shutting with complacence. “It will be the name my enemies fear!” Opening his eyes all the way again, he grabbed the arm that was still hanging on to him with both hands, looking very much like a zealous puppy ready for play. “So, when do my lessons start, oh Great and Mighty Königreich Preußen?”

[Prussia]

It was just the two of them in the middle of the apple orchard with no sight of anyone. If there had been anyone else, Gilbert would not have noticed them anyway. That single moment where Ludwig sat up properly, an expression on his face going beyond his years like the little prince, king, no, empire he was fated to be, had a sobering effect on Gilbert's excitement with the sense of true responsibility. Gilbert was not much of a religious nation, not anywhere like he had in his youth, but words like fate and destiny crossing his thoughts were unavoidable.

Plus that indisputable similarity between Ludwig and the Holy Roman Empire's appearances was plain to see. It would be impossible for Gilbert to think of anything besides a particular gloriousness within the boy. Even Ludwig seemed to sense it, regardless of how covered up it was by childish innocence and sense of adventure.

Little hands grabbed his arm, pulled at his sleeve, and gained the Prussian's absolute attention with ease. "So, when do my lessons start, oh Great and Mighty Königreich Preußen?" Ludwig's large blue eyes shone expectantly and Gilbert took a deep, dramatic breath before speaking.

Not wanting to disappoint, Gilbert had to think on his feet. Or, in this case, his ass while he sat on the hard ground. It was not the first time, nor would it be the last, but he had his answer quickly. "Let me see what I have to work with," he said with a professional air, sitting himself a little straighter as he played the role of a responsible adult for a moment.

A pale finger from his free arm touched the boy under the chin and eased Ludwig's face up a fraction. Studying it for a moment, trying his best to keep his mouth straight despite the grin that fought to return, he nodded in approval. "A strong, noble face." A roundish face, more like, caused by the baby fat still plain on the cheeks but with hints of a strong jaw to come. Everything at least looked align, which was good enough for Gilbert's eyes which were untrained and not all that interested in making a serious inspection. He had already accepted the boy even before he knew it was the North German Confederation.

The hand dropped and his red eyed gaze looked down as he took one of Ludwig's hands in his, not carrying if the boy had licked them since any of that was probably on his sleeve already. A thumb ran over the boy's palms and smoothed out the fingers. “Good hands, I see. Good for gripping a sword. Or maybe a gun, if I find it fit.” He had almost said 'when you are older' but that alone almost made him lose his playful yet professional mask. Yet somehow there was a feeling, a strong one, that made Gilbert want to protect the boy himself. To watch over him and guard him. To not let him have the same fate as his doomed predecessor.

Arthur's voice came to mind along with the man's boasting about finding a little brother far across the ocean on a land that Gilbert had only heard rumors about. A little brother to be cared for and protected against all the other damnable nations out there who sought to control or take advantage of the little kid. Gilbert suddenly marveled at the idea that this little kid, who was adorable and so damn impressed by just about everything about the Prussian, may in fact be Gilbert's little brother.

"I've decided!" Swiftly, Gilbert pulled the boy close and clambered up to his feet from the ground. A single arm wrapped underneath the small body, enough to support the weight with the other lightly holding the boy by the side to keep him from falling. The blond hair was soft against Gilbert's cheek when he lightly rested it against the crown of the boy's head, with the scent of fresh grass and, somehow, apple pie filling his nose.

The smell reminded him of the dropped cup, lying in the thick, dry grass by his feet. "We'll start right now with your very first lesson!" he announced proudly as though nothing would please him more than witnessing it. "I'm granting you the task of seeing to it that..." He tapped the cup once with his boot before bending over to pick it up. Holding Ludwig tight to him with one arm, with more care than he'd given to anyone or anything else, he snatched the thing from the ground with deft fingers. Hefting the boy up a bit more from where he had slipped in the downward dip with a small jerk, Gilbert held the cup out for him to take. "...die Frau gets her cup back, safe and sound." A simple task and probably one Gilbert would have objected fiercely to, had he been given it as a child, but an important virtue to be learned.

[Germany]

"Let me see what I have to work with,"

Ludwig tensed up into what he hoped was a proud, noble, knightly posture, taking his hands off of the Prussian’s arm, straightening his back to match his, and keeping his head held high. Prussia commanded his full and absolute attention; a few landmines could have exploded behind him without his taking much notice. I wonder what he'll make of me?

Suddenly Prussia’s finger was under his chin, tilting his head up just a bit further until he was starting directly into thoughtful red eyes.

The adult nodded. "A strong, noble face."

Ludwig’s smile returned; he had yet to see his own reflection, but Prussia describing his face this way was certainly a good sign. ‘Strong’ and ‘noble’ were definitely words he wanted associated with, and the fact that he looked the part made him swell with self-righteous pride. Evildoers will know better than to mess with me!

The finger under his chin fell away, and now a larger, paler hand grasped his, its thumb flattening his dirt-dusted palm and fingers.

“Good hands, I see. Good for gripping a sword…”

Ludwig wasn’t really sure why Prussia thought that his hands were good for gripping a sword — they seemed far too small and soft to him. But he was a real knight, not some child in training, so he would know best.

The Prussian’s next words were confusing. A gun? His smile vanished.

Did heroes carry guns?

He couldn’t recall.

Going by the pre-packaged knowledge, stories, and images he’d been created with it seemed mostly like something the bad guys did. But Prussia isn’t a bad guy, so it must be alright.

Then Prussia was pulling him forward and lifting him with fluid ease up off the ground as he rose to stand, one arm supporting his weight and the other keeping him balanced. Ludwig felt his cheek resting lightly against his head. Again kindredness, acceptance, and love enveloped him like a warm blanket, strengthening his bonds to the great nation.

Deep in his mind, hiding somewhere behind his consciousness, a montage of images played, each a flood of colors and feelings. Beautiful blue-white rivers spilling over vivid greenness, geometric earthen-toned cities, majestic purple mountains rising against the edge of dawn…they were all a part of him. The people celebrating with wild parties, games, and lots of drinks akin to apple wine were a part of him as well. He could sense — even feel — their happiness and hope, and somehow, without asking, he knew Prussia could too.

They weren’t just separate nations, they were literally a part of each other.

Family.

It was an indescribably wonderful feeling, and if he lived to be 10,000 years old Ludwig was sure that he would never feel happier than he did right then at the moment, with Prussia hugging him close.

For his part, the adult nation seemed to reciprocate fully and was eager to get him started on his very first lesson. "I'm granting you the task of seeing to it that..."

Ludwig held his breath. A clinking sound drew his eyes to the Prussian’s foot, which tapped the fallen cup. There was a moment of surprise as he felt himself falling in an awkward tilt towards the ground, and for a fraction of a second he worried that his idol was going to drop him on his head, but no — his grip was firm and protective. He picked the cup up, then straightened back up into a standing position and jerked him back up to compensate for the tiny bit of distance he’d slipped.

"...die Frau gets her cup back, safe and sound." Prussia held the cup out to him expectantly.

“What?” The boy’s lips moved with his thoughts, his innocent young face scrunching up in the portrait of frustrated surprise.

This was unexpected. This was totally unexpected.

Rather than take the cup, he squirmed around a little to fix his hero with a look of disappointment. “What kind of a task is that?” Though the volume of his voice and the word-choice indicated anger, in truth Ludwig was more hurt than angry. He was overcome with a sudden, terribly crushing feeling that maybe Prussia had been joking about his being cut out to be a knight. “Knights have more important things to do than that! Carrying cups is for — for little girls!”

But you promised to do whatever he said, his conscience quickly reminded him, If you don’t he might decide to go away and leave you.

Ludwig’s throat tightened, his heart pumping a little faster at the thought.

Monsters, dragons, and evil witches were frightening, but nothing scared him more than the thought of Prussia leaving and refusing to have anything more to do with him. He was such a nice, easy-going, all-around amazing knight nation, and Ludwig had already bonded strongly to him on several levels to such the extent that he could not bare the thought of losing him now. He had a strong feeling that, if he did, he would never be able to replace him.

He cast his eyes down immediately and turned back for the cup. “Sorry,” he mumbled. Small fingers dove over the rim of the cup while a proportional thumb pressed against its side. And though the fear of losing Prussia was very real in his mind, he could not help the half-grumbling, if-you-insist childish tone with which he said “I’ll carry the cup to the lady.”

[Prussia]

Gilbert saw the smile vanish off Ludwig's face but he assumed that was only because the boy didn't understand the greatness of a gun. A sword might slay a dragon in a fairytale, and was far more dramatic and flashy with the sword becoming much less a weapon and more an extension of one’s very arm, but nothing beat a good, reliable rifle on the battlefield. Ludwig would need to be taught--Gilbert wouldn't let this future premonition of Germany vanish so easily--and the Prussian could only expect big smiles on that small face in the future because of it.

Equipping a child with a weapon like that was definitely a bad idea this early in the game, however. Gilbert knew how impressionable kids were to strange and foreign thoughts, a small threat lingering in the back of Gilbert’s mind that Ludwig may abandon him like how the boy-colony rebelled against Arthur nearly a century ago. But the Iron Chancellor had seemed to figure out a way to settle that possible mishap and so Gilbert was not afraid. He was not worried. Ludwig's face may brim with innocence but the Germanic nations were old, their history rich, and their relations deeply intertwined. That was how the Iron Chancellor would seek to win the rest of them to Prussia's side. The North German Confederation was also no mere colony. If there was any nation out there who would have some internal understanding to Prussia's spirit and motives, and hopefully for his taste in food as well, it would be this child.

"What?" Ludwig cried out in frustration and Gilbert's eyebrows rose in surprise at such a spirited response. “What kind of a task is that?” Words harsh with anger but brittle all the same and Gilbert's initial shock wore off quickly. Of course Ludwig couldn't possibly be agreeable with everything that came from the elder's lips. He was a proto-nation with thoughts and feelings of his own.

But that didn't mean that Gilbert couldn't help ease him along the right path. In no way insulted that his vitally important and spontaneous task was being snubbed, he merely chastised himself for his serious thoughts a moment ago while he listened to the North German Confederation try to explain why he was better than such a simple task. This little child rebelling against the awesome me? Impossible![/i] Gilbert could even hear the words from Ludwig's lips said in his own voice, at one time just as high pitched before his Kingdom days. Sounds like we're a sack of potatoes! Or like... peas-in-a-pod![/i]

"Knights have more important things to do than that!” Gilbert almost thought of voicing his own suggestions but thought the boy too young to hear it. "Carrying cups is for — for little girls!"

It was because, Gilbert decided, Ludwig simply did not know, did not understand. In that short moment, the Prussian was in full power and control. Worse of all for every other nation out there, he realized he was in full power and control. He smiled rather pleasantly because of it, in fact, while his expression fell upon an 'Is that so?' sense of ease.

"Sorry," the boy apologized, going suddenly calm and quiet, but the grumbling was still present. If Ludwig had been one of Gilbert's troops and not the North German Confederation, he may have been punished with severe cleaning duty. "I'll carry the cup to the lady."

Gilbert just grinned and continued walking back the way he came, following the river south for direction for the orchard had at some point swallowed him up in the strange vastness of it all. The place was a good place but eerie all the same: the birthplace of a nation in the tamed wilderness. "You know, when I was little kid, I would have been angry too. Was angry, actually.” There was a certain sense of pride in his voice that the two of them shared this sentiment. "The old Hochmeisters always sought some way to discipline me and get me to settle down. Thought me a little too rough around the edges."

He hadn't noticed how late it had gotten. It seemed they had only talked for a little while, sitting on the ground in fascination of eachother, but the light peeking through the apple orchard had more of a brilliant shade of gold than blue. The ripeness of summer already seemed to hint at the Autumn to come.

"'Take care of that old pilgrim woman' they would say," Gilbert recited, his voice going down into a deep rumble to imitate one Hochmeister, his expression seeming to twitch and twist as though to impersonate that too, and then rising up an octave above his normal speaking voice to add an imitation of another: "'Hurry and get those bloodied wrappings cleaned, Herr Müller is bringing in more wounded.’ Task after menial task! What would an awesome knight like me, like you, have business cleaning dirty laundry?” The addition of you added in as he subconsciously considered the boy to be like himself, of himself. "And that was when I really was a knight and nothing else, not even a whole nation yet."

There was something comforting about holding the boy in his arms and carrying him along. Someone to take care of, someone to talk to, someone who currently had a basic idea of the grandeur of being a nation and in the future would know exactly what it was like and, best of all, be a nation alongside Prussia. Friends, allies, brothers. Bruder…

"Who cares about a cup? It's just a cup." The sense of arguing with himself amused him, but he was far too used to being caught up in his own plans and ideas and so he did not wait just then for Ludwig to voice his opinion about why someone would care about the cup. "But I'll let you in on a little secret." His pace continued at his slow leisure, in no hurry to go back to planning and plotting just yet. Although he greatly wanted the boy to grow up already to be strong, he quite liked how things were just then.

He lowered his mouth by the boy's ear and lowered his voice. "It's not about the cup. It's about what you do with the cup." Gilbert smiled and looked forward down the invisible path through the trees, his head raised high and the world his.

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A/N: Ok, I cut the last paragraph off and added a little bit of one line to finish off the new last paragraph. \o/ I think that paragraph might have been the excess weight on this post. Although I have it saved still, I think I like the post better this way. Hopefully you do too!