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White Crimson	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1109 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
***Warning: Langauge, soft-core porn, yaoi, disturbing scenes

***Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter 3

Sleep was hard with the chilling room and dying fire. Gilbert shivered on the bed, holding the thin sheet tightly around him seeking any sort of warmth. If he had clothes then the night would not be so uncomfortable, but he had burned the king's uniform and used up all the wood. Never would he wear the king's attire anyway, but he wished he still had it to burn something. Winter was always a favorite season of his, only because he knew there was warmth in the court or in his home. He would be dressed in woolen jerkins and wear coats of fur to warm his body. But that was currently all gone now. His home and belongings, everything was all gone. All he had left was the opal pendant from Fredrick, which he now held tightly in his palm. For a moment, Gilbert lifted his head to look out the window, seeing that it was now covered up completely by snow.

Thoughts raced to the words Ludwig had said earlier about his choice in beliefs. The blonde believes that Gilbert was doing all this for Fredrick and not for himself, when in reality; everything done should be for you. It was a question that baffled him in many ways, almost bringing him to doubt. The doubt, however, was short lived for Gilbert knew himself better than Ludwig did. Gilbert would never go through such useless turmoil if he did not believe in the Spirits of Old. He was not like that. He was too stubborn and full of pride to fight for someone else if he did not share the beliefs. Gilbert assumed Ludwig was referring to the rumors about him and Fredrick being lovers. If his assumption was right, then Ludwig thinks that Gilbert is lying to himself.

No, he believed strongly in the ways of the spirits. Maybe Ludwig did not believe in anything, but Gilbert had faith. This conclusion only brought him to another question, why did Ludwig have such a harsh view of the world? The man was a dedicated soldier, he obeys orders, does his job and does it well, and is handsome to boot. Could it be because of his battle wound rendering him helpless to the royal army? Where did he grow up? Who did he grow up with? Who raised him? Who taught him? There were so many questions bouncing around in his head that the only way to answer them was to ask the man himself. But, would Ludwig answer his questions? Maybe he was hiding a deep, dark past and is suffering because of it.

'Perhaps I shouldn't be so hard on the guy.' Gilbert said to himself, his teeth chattering madly. 'But that man IS my death…' He looked towards the door. 'My death comes right through that door.' If a chill of fear went through his body, then he could not feel it over the coldness of the room.

It was one thing to not see your death coming. Death could come on the battlefield when your back is turned. It could come when you're walking through a corridor and an assassin slits your throat. It could come as easily as falling off a roof and breaking your neck. But this sort of death was different; it was a lingering death. The king held the power to sign the death warrant, but that was all he did. Ludwig, the executioner, would follow through on that warrant and actually cut off his head. Gilbert gulped behind his chattering teeth. If he were out at a tavern with a wench on his knee and some surrounding knights, he would be laughing about this situation. Only if he weren't in it right now. Saying how or what you would do in a situation was easy, but when it actually happens, things may not turn out the way you thought. He would not give up in any way, shape, or form, but he was frightened.

"I have to…figure out something." He said between chattering teeth. "If I don't…I'll be…a head shorter." He scoffed lightly at his own little morbid joke. The sudden sound of something sliding along the floor caught his attention and he looked around. There, by the door, was a white piece of parchment having been slipped under from the other side. Gilbert stumbled out of the bed and rushed to the paper, ripping it from the floor to tear it open. Holding the letter in shivering hands, he silently read it contents:

Gilbert,

I write with some alarming news. Upon attending the first part of your trial, the former queen spoke up about your many visits to the late king's private chambers and study. She never went on to say what she thought or what she knew went on in those rooms, but the jury needs very little evidence on this matter to convict you of adultery. The fact that the queen herself has 'suspicions' is more than enough to start interrogating you further. I fear they may even use this conviction to give reason as to why you are leading the rebellion. It may no longer be looked upon as simple 'restoring the old faith'.

I have also spoken with our friends at court who do not believe the accusations of the former queen. Yet, as we both know, they do not approve of the kingdom being in disarray because of our rebellion. Upon other news, a friend of ours has been put on trial in a local city and is due to be burned. I am attempting to pull some string in order to save him.

Burn this letter after you receive it. Do not write back or attempt to send out letters to any others or me. Our 'little rose' will convey messages back and forth from now on. Continue to remain strong until we can sort out all these matters.

-a fRiend

Gilbert knew the letter was from Roderich and he wished it contained better news than this. Their secret code for signing letters was the capital 'R' in the word 'friend', standing for 'Roderich'. The 'little rose' was Elizaveta, also another code. Gilbert wished it weren't Lizzy who had to run their messages back and forth. He feared the worse happening to her if she was caught. Of course, cornering her would be equal to corning a she-wolf, but it did not change the specific dangers a woman faced in these parts. Sighing heavily, Gilbert folded the letter into quarters and placed it under the mattress with the pendant for now until firewood was replenished.

"Damn…it's fucking cold in here! First I get shit news and I'm still freezing. What rotten luck!" He crawled back onto the bed and tried to make himself fall asleep but to no avail. He thought back to Roderich's letter where he mentioned the former queen testifying the way she did. Gilbert had to wonder what possessed her to say such a thing against him. He had even defended her honor with his sword when an insult was cast her way. He could not believe the kind woman would turn on him, unless she is being forced or a greater issue is at play behind the scenes.

But eventually, all of his heavy thinking and the chilling cold tired him out. Once he closed his eyes sleep finally took over.

The opening of the dungeon chamber door jerked Gilbert awake and he turned to the entrance. Ludwig had just entered with a tray of food and drink. Around his shoulders Ludwig wore a heavy fur cloak, which Gilbert yearned to have right now. He sat up in the bed and looked at the blonde man setting the tray down on the table. Blue eyes turned to him and said, "Here is your breakfast." The tone was firm and flat, as usual. Ludwig turned to leave the room but Gilbert stopped him.

"Wait!" Ludwig turned to face him. "Stay with me a bit as I eat. I'll even share with you." It was hard to try and hide his shivering body, but he attempted it anyway. Getting up from the bed, Gilbert kept the sheet around him as he proceeded to the table.

"I have work to do." The blonde stated.

"Hey, it's good to take a break every now and again." Gilbert said with a smirk and sat on the bench. "Come, sit beside me. I don't bite."

Ludwig frowned. "I'd rather not."

"Rest that weary leg for awhile. The snow is heavy out there and walking can't be easy for you."

"Hm. Very well." Ludwig sat down beside him, folding his arms on the table. He could feel Gilbert shivering closely beside him. "Why did you burn the clothes?"

Gilbert popped some cheese in his mouth. "Sending a message."

"That you're an idiot who rather freeze than simply cut off the religious symbols from the uniform?" Gilbert met his frown with one of his own.

"It's for symbolic purposes, but you wouldn't know anything about that." Gilbert's pale hand was shivering while picking up the pieces of cheese.

"You are shivering. I will have the servants bring in more firewood for you."

"Ah, thanks! You're a real pal!" He grinned wildly. "So, to make pleasant conversation, how did you come to be a solider?"

"Why does it matter?" Ludwig countered. "It's not important."

"I thought you didn't care about anything? If it's not important and you don't care then telling me should be easy. Right? Come on, who am I going to tell? The rats in the wall?"

Ludwig knew Gilbert had a point, and his past did not hold anything secretive. "Very well." Gilbert offered him a piece of cheese that Ludwig took to eat. "I grew up on a simple little farm in the City of Berlin."

"That's my city too!"

"Yeah…" Ludwig gave him a flat look before continuing, "just my father, mother, and me. I took care of the farm animals with my father and my mother grew herbs. We only had a cow, a goat, and a few chickens. We always had a limited amount of food because we had to sell more than we could keep. I was twelve when I was sold to work the iron mines. I was not upset over it. Times were hard and my mother had become pregnant again. I would be another mouth to feed and it was not feasible. So, I willingly went with the iron merchants and my parents were paid. I worked there for a couple of years and decided to revisit my home when the iron mine caved in. Yet, when I arrived, the house was in shambles, covered with moss and flora…it had been that way for awhile."

"What happened to them? Do you know?" Gilbert asked, crunching into an apple.

"I don't. I asked the others in the area, but no one had a straight answer. I had to assume they were either dead or had moved away. Once I realized I no longer had a home to return to, I sought out other options. I would do little odd jobs here and there, earning a coin or two for some bread. Then, I saw a general signing up young soldiers. Mercenaries. When the general saw that I was tall, strong, and healthy, he signed me up right away. I began my training, became a soldier, and you know the rest." Ludwig looked at him. "There, that's my story. Now, how about yours, hm?"

"Mine?" Gilbert snickered. "Why would you want to know that? I was a noble with a noble's life."

"I told you mine." Ludwig had said that he would try and gather information out of Gilbert for the king.

Gilbert shivered, rolling his eyes. "Alright, alright, I'll tell you. I grew up with my parents, aunt, and uncle. I had all the privileges of a nobleman's son. Horseback riding, sword fighting, so on, so forth. I actually lost all of them when we caught the plague. I had it too, yet somehow I was the only one to survive. I was about your age, roughly between twelve and thirteen. I had to bury all of them in the family graveyard and become the Lord of House Prussia." He smiled softly then. "During the burials, King Fredrick had come to pay his respects to my father. Seeing that I was now a lord, young and inexperienced, he took me under his wing to educate me in the role. I had learned how to properly run and manage a castle. Then, I was granted knighthood and went on to become the world's most awesome knight you ever did see!"'

"Hm." Ludwig finished off the piece of cheese. "King Fredrick did not take you out of the kindness of his heart. He saw a rich and fertile land, protected by a massive stronghold that could very well crumble if not managed properly. Instead, he teaches you how to manage the castle only to suit his own needs. It wasn't done out of kindness."

Gilbert flashed him a look of annoyance and anger. "How do you know that for sure? Were you there? Did you speak to Fredrick that day? Were you in his thoughts at the time? No, you weren't! So how can you come to such conclusions based on what you assume? You do this for everything, it would seem."

"It's simple fact." Ludwig countered. "You said so yourself he taught you how to run it. That was for his own gain. You look at it differently."

"I will look at it however I want!" He hollered. "You can't just claim things without evidence!"

"Where is your evidence that the spirits exist?" Ludwig looked at him. "Where is your proof that the king's single god does not exist? You are making assumptions without proof the same as I."

"But I'm right." Gilbert said proudly. "I'm always right."

"I'm right too."

Gilbert took Ludwig's hand and placed the palm of it flat against cold chest, right over his heart. "You don't always need to see something to believe it, Ludwig. Sometimes, the feeling is just there."

Ludwig kept his palm against Gilbert's beating heart. "Your feelings are not ones of belief…but of something else." Gilbert shoved Ludwig's hand away at the statement. "You may be right. Everyone feels differently. I really do not have an opinion. I live life day to day, making the most of it and being a productive citizen. I do what I think is right and steer away from what I think is wrong." Gilbert looked away from him. "I'm right."

"Not entirely." He picked up a piece of dried meat and munched loudly on it, still shivering.

"Here, take my cloak." Ludwig offered, removing the fur from his shoulders and placing it around Gilbert. Pink eyes gazed at him in fond surprise.

"Are you allowed to give this to me?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "It doesn't matter. They need you alive, so offering you a fur is of little consequence." Ludwig watched while Gilbert brought his plate of food over to the bed to sit and eat instead. He wrapped himself up in a fur cocoon with Ludwig's cloak.

"Thanks a ton, Ludwig!" He no longer had the sheet around him. "It's very warm, and smells like you!"

"Like me?"

"Yeah! That musty, musky man sweat smell." Ludwig frowned. "Hey, between guys like us, that's a hot smell." He grinned and Ludwig looked embarrassed.

"Excuse me?"

'Make nice with your death.' Gilbert reminded himself. "Now I know why you're so buff! You worked in a mine, building up all those rock hard muscles." He smirked as Ludwig looked over his clothed form. This was also a way to lead Ludwig away from the idea that he was in love with Fredrick. "I can't help being attracted to men well built in stature. That means I can rough them up and I don't have to worry about hurting them. As the dominant male, I have to watch out for things like that." He heard a scoff mixed with a laugh from Ludwig. "Something funny?" He grinned.

"I don't laugh." Ludwig returned to his serious tone, but did have the hint of a smile. "So you find me attractive?"

"Doesn't everyone?"

"I attract attention from onlookers, mostly women. And now you, I guess."

Gilbert lay back on the bed and pedaled his legs in the air. "Got to do some exercises in order to keep warm. Don't mind me." He saw Ludwig watching the movement his legs. "What do you expect from me? I'm locked up in a dungeon with no women or men to warm my bed and share in a drink! If you were a woman, I'd be swooning you right now. But, you are a man, and swooning you is much more difficult." He paused in his pedaling. "I like a challenge."

Ludwig knew it was time to leave by the subtle invitation from Gilbert. Either Gilbert was teasing him on purpose, or the man was simply horny from being locked away. It was not his place to share in Gilbert's bed because of the trials. Someone else would have to test Gilbert's body for penetration or not. Ludwig would do it just to satisfy his own needs and Gilbert's. But it was dangerous to get too close to a man he may soon have to kill. Or it could be the other way around, where Gilbert would grow too attached then have to be killed by the man he loved. Yet, the man loved King Fredrick, so maybe- "I bid you good day, Gilbert." He couldn't do it.

"Aww, you're leaving already? Come on, I'm bored sitting around in here!"

"Those books I promised along with firewood should be coming shortly." As Ludwig stood up and turned to leave, Gilbert's voice stopped him.

"I repay my debts, you know. And I will not forget this kindness you bestowed upon me." He was referring to the cloak. Ludwig did not look back when he answered.

"It's nothing more than a cloak."

"Yet it means so much."

Ludwig said nothing nor did he look back at Gilbert as he left the dungeon. Once behind the door, he moved quickly to retreat back to his room. He was due for an execution in a few hours, snow or no snow. It was a hanging, but right now he could not think about that. Instead, the spark of lust had been ignited from Gilbert's little show and 'it' had to be taken care of. Like Gilbert, he hadn't been with anyone in awhile so his body eagerly responded to the other's offer. Ludwig was in the power to take Gilbert if he so wanted, but only if he was a commoner. Beyond that, he was technically unable to lay a hand on Gilbert in 'that' way. Unless, he was granted permission.

The pathway had been cleared after he had left his room. Walking across the stone path was easier for him now. He entered the room and stroked the fire before settling on his bed. There was still time before he had to carry out someone's death. Ludwig lay on his back and stared at the stone ceiling, shadows dancing on the surface. He tried to focus on those shadows and less on Gilbert's naked body under that cloak. Gilbert had said he was attracted to him, so how was he to properly respond? Ludwig was more than likely going to have to execute this man. Perhaps it would be better if he revealed himself to Gilbert. Let the man know that he is the one who will behead him. Gilbert would not find him so attractive then. However, his profession is supposed to be a concealed secret.

Ludwig was unaware that he had fallen asleep on the bed with these thoughts, which turned in to a very interesting dream.

He stood on the platform with his axe beside the block. The platform was covered in snow and the snowflakes fell around him. However, the air was not cold at all. Turning to look at the stairs, a fur cloaked figure ascended the platform, their head bowed. The person approached the block, standing before it. As custom, Ludwig went over to the person and removed their cloak. Ludwig looked into the pale face and pink eyes of Gilbert, whom look solemn and peaceful. The man's cloak pooled at his feet on the snowy floor, revealing his naked body. Ludwig's eyes trailed up and down the white form that nearly camouflaged in the snow. He held out his hand toward the block, silently telling the other to lay his head upon it.

Instead of stretching that pale neck across the dip, Gilbert knelt and laid his chest along the block. His arms were tied firmly behind his back, a heavy red rope around his wrists. He looked over to Ludwig and gave a smirk of seduction, spreading his knees in the snow. It was a silent invitation, one in which Ludwig was eager to take. Dropping the axe, Ludwig moved to stand behind Gilbert before kneeling in the snow. He heard Gilbert give a moan and push back against him. This man may have had control over him during war, but now it was Ludwig who could dominate him. He wasted no time in opening the front of his pants to pull out his erection. Gilbert was eagerly awaiting him, making small wanton sounds to urge him on. Ludwig gripped the strong, narrow hips in his hold and guided the other back, thrusting in all the way.

The man beneath him let out a wailing cry of pleasure once Ludwig had seated himself fully inside. He did not care about anything else other than using this man's body to make himself feel good. All he needed from the other were cries and groans of pleasure. Which is what his prisoner clearly voiced with each thrust. Gilbert's body was hot inside and the muscles clenched around him, squeezing his member with enough pressure to make him groan. When he felt Gilbert start to push back against him, Ludwig chose to dominate once again. He held Gilbert's head down so that his neck was stretched across the block as he continued to thrust. His body was quickly beginning to build up to its orgasm, and with a few more solid thrusts he came inside the willing body. The man beneath him moaned in delight and pressed back still, wanting more. However, Ludwig did not want to grant him the right to more pleasure. Instead, he pulled out and buttoned his pants before picking up the axe. Gilbert was still moaning and writhing upon the block.

Ludwig stood beside the block and looked down at the man he was about to kill. He readied his axe, laying the blade across the pale neck twice before bringing it down. The blade cut clean through Gilbert's neck and landed his head in the basket. The body remained on the block while Ludwig stared at the droplets of blood that hit the snow, spotting it red. His eyes traveled to the basket where the other's head lay peacefully as if asleep on a pillow.

A heavy banging woke him from his dream and Ludwig jumped awake. "W-What the hell was that about? Why-"

"HEY! LUDWIG! You're late for the execution! What the hell are you doing in there?" It was one of the many dungeon workers outside his chamber door yelling. Ludwig looked down at the front of his pants, seeing a well-pitched tent. "LUDWIG!" Another bang.

"I'll be right out!" Ludwig called back. "My leg isn't cooperating."

"Well, figure something out! The councilmen are getting pissed and it's fucking cold outside!"

Ludwig stood up and straightened his leg, which wasn't actually giving him any issue. Luckily, the tent in his pants has started to droop and a public execution was in order. All the way to the platform, the only thing on his mind was the strange wet dream he had just experienced. After this execution, it was in to the city to find a tavern and a wench, or two.

/

The next day…

Gilbert snuggled up in the fur cloak in front of his now roaring fire with a book. Ludwig had been true to his word, and the person who brought the items did not question the fur. He was unable to see what time of day it was, but he was certain it had to be around mid afternoon. The door unlocked and he turned to see whom it was, hoping for Ludwig. Instead, he frowned when he saw a different councilman and three guards. Gilbert stood from his spot at the fire and smiled.

"Good day, gentlemen." Gilbert said pleasantly. "Always a pleasure to see friendly faces."

"Well, someone is chipper." Replied the man, looking at Gilbert's cloak. "Where did you get that cloak?"

"What's it to you?"

"Let me rephrase that. Who gave it to you."

"The blonde guy, Ludwig. He brought me food, saw how I was shivering, and lent it to me out of common human decently."

The man scoffed. "Are you certain it was not that servant girl who comes around here?"

"No. You can ask Ludwig yourself, he will tell you. Now, I know you did not come here to ask about my clothing. What have you come for?" Gilbert asked with a glare.

"Since you asked so nicely…" the man took a folded piece of cloth from a guard "The king has granted you clothes. It is only a patched tunic top, but it is what is deserving of you." Gilbert looked at the folded material, and then noticed the chain in another guard's arms. "You may have worn jewels around your neck, but now you will be wearing something different. And it is much heavier than a gem stone." He issued for the guards to surround Gilbert. "You do not resist?"

Gilbert gave an obnoxious smirk and laugh. "I have to wear an iron collar and chain as well? Big deal. I have strong shoulders."

"That is where you are wrong. You see, Gilbert-"

"SIR Gilbert, or Lord Gilbert."

"You no longer have those titles." The man smiled. "You are simply, 'Gilbert'."

Gilbert was held by one of the guards while another shackled the heavy iron collar around his neck. A chain hung from a loop in the center reaching down to his navel.

"The king requests your presence in the dungeon courtyard to witness the execution of your rebel friends by burning." Gilbert gave the man a wide-eyed, but dark look of anger. "You will be heavily guarded, and chained to a post wearing nothing but this article of clothing. A mouth rod will gag you, keeping that waggling tongue idol in your heretic mouth. Many shall look upon you, a so-called 'Public Hero' bound by the neck in chains and shivering in the cold. Then, after you are thoroughly humiliated by the people, you can watch as your rebel friends burn at the pyre." He went over to Gilbert and stared straight at the man "Then, you may want to ask yourself if this is all worth it."

Gilbert wished he could say what he felt at the moment, but knew it would not get him anywhere. Instead, he lowered his eyes and glared at the councilman. He may not be able throw insults, but he could not hold back his threats. "Listen to me, you fucking old codger. I promise you that no matter what happens to me, each and every one of you will suffer. I will haunt all of you from the grave and have the spirits strip away everything you hold dear. They will reign down upon you with all their fury and you will wish you ran away from your precious little boy-king!"

The councilman was not threatened in the slightest and just smiled sweetly. "I would be afraid of that if it were true, Gilbert. But since your old religion is nothing but folktales, I do not have to be afraid. I believe in the same godly being the king does. You should too."

"Never."

"Then you will die."

Gilbert smirked proudly. "Then I will die a brave and righteous hero, not a coward like so many of you. I don't piss myself when a boy-king walks by and get on my knees to suck his precious little cock."

The man glared. "You will sorely regret those words, prisoner!"

"Eat shit and die!" A guard roughly backhanded him with a fist and with the added weight of the iron; Gilbert fell to the floor, hitting his head. Everything went black.

End Chapter 3 TBC
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White Crimson