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White Crimson	By : FlayraDowitcher Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1110 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am making no money off of this fic.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
***Warning: Language, softcore scenes, violence, disturbing scenes

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

Chapter 4

When Gilbert awoke, there was a massive throbbing pain in his head and the cracking sound of dried blood as he opened his mouth to groan. He briefly remembered getting knocked out, but the scene before that was fresh in his mind. There was no telling what time of day it currently was for the snow remained over the dungeon window. He sat up in the bed and looked around the room while holding his throbbing cheek. No food had been brought to him, but he was dressed in the tattered tunic and the iron collar remained on his neck. The tunic only came down to his knees and the shackle made quick movement difficult. Gilbert also noticed that the cloak had been taken from him, which earned a heavy frown. For a moment, he wondered if Ludwig had been punished for lending it to him?

Yet that question was eliminated once he remembered what the councilman had told him about the burning of his 'rebel friends'. Which friends were they? There were only a handful of secondary leaders under him, but Roderich would have told him ahead of time if any of them were caught. The people being put to death must be average followers of him and they happened to be caught. Gilbert was aware of what tactic the boy-king was trying to play. The king wanted him to see the cruelties being done to his followers so he would repent and lower his sword. Gilbert knew in his heart that he could never surrender, for his cause was much too great to suddenly abandon. Thousands of people were counting on him to restore the old ways and keep them safe. They all looked up to him as their savior to lead them back to the way things used to be. Everyone is aware of the risks and Gilbert was certain he had announced those risks many times. Still, people followed.

It would be hard to watch these people burn because they were fighting for a just cause. They were being put to death for believing in something they had every right to worship. This is when Gilbert grew angry and hateful of the new king. How he wished to be hidden in a tower with a crossbow, just waiting for the boy-king to be in the right position to let the arrow fly into the scrawny little neck. How could such a vile and disgusting ill-hearted child come from King Fredrick's bloodline? The late king was proud, noble, dutiful, strong, compassionate, and nonjudgmental. Fredrick was the reason behind him becoming a knight. Gilbert lay back down on the bed and smiled as he thought about that day when he achieved his knighthood.

The battle had ended with Fredrick's army being victorious, gaining half of another kingdom's land. Gilbert had been told to report immediately to the king after he had finished his duties. Gilbert was still in his battle armor and chainmail, sword hilt held firmly in his hand. His breast plate was dented in some spots along with bloody tears throughout his body. The battle had been long and hard, but his men had fought bravely and won the day. He could not wait to tell the king. King Fredrick had been involved in the battle as well, for a king always fought alongside his men. However, his army had been on the opposite side of Gilbert's, so this was their first meeting after weeks of battle camp and fighting.

Once Gilbert arrived at Fredrick's private chambers, the guard allowed him entrance. Gilbert entered the room, the jingling of his chainmail alerting the king of his presence. "Gilbert…thank goodness you are safe."

Gilbert grinned brightly. "No one can keep me down! I kicked the shit out of those other guys!"

Fredrick nodded, but looked the young warrior up and down. "The least you could have done is cleaned yourself up first before visiting."

Gilbert threw his head back. "Ha! You like me looking this way. All battered and torn from the heat of battle!" He flexed his muscles. "Take a moment to admire this awesomeness in all forms."

It was Fredrick's turn to chuckle. "Why do I put up with you?"

Pale features softened. "Because I am the only person you fully trust in this realm." Gilbert watched as Fredrick removed the crown from his head, placing it on the bed.

"That is true, and I wish it were not that way. It's so hard to rule sometimes." He said with a sigh. "My duties and role always override my wants."

Gilbert walked over to him and gave a little smirk, staring in to soft blue eyes. "That is what makes you a wonderful king. The people love you; the kingdom is richer and more powerful than ever!"

"Hm…that is what I am supposed to do, not what I want to do." He smiled. "But we all have dreams where we wished things were different." Fredrick turned from Gilbert to gaze at the large painting of himself dressed as a young king. "I'm growing older, and my desires grow further and further out of my reach."

Gilbert walked up behind him, saying nothing.

"Some desires are closer than others, but it is a desire that I cannot be allowed." Fredrick reached his hand behind to thread his fingers through Gilbert's gloved ones.

Gilbert squeezed Fredrick's hand and rested his cheek against the king's back. The only people he had ever shown soft affection to was his king and Elizaveta. Everyone else was met with crude jokes, jabs, and occasionally, a brawl. But he loved and adored his king as a friend; even more so than that. Fredrick knew this as well. "It…can be?" Gilbert offered.

"I'm old enough to be your father."

"So? You know I don't like that sort of moral bullshit. Besides, I'm a grown man!"

Fredrick laughed. "I'M a grown man. You're still a pup."

Gilbert growled. "Nineteen autumns is grown. I was a man when I was fifteen autumn moons."

"Still, the risks are too high. You are a nobleman whom must keep the faith and exercise his power properly. You have a reputation as important as mine." Fredrick turned around then to face Gilbert, tilting his head down slightly to meet pink eyes. "As a loyal servant of the realm, you are close to the age of noble marriage. I will have to marry you off to someone, be it man or woman, because you are my ward. Already I have had suitors for you as well as marriage proposals from some very eligible ladies."

"What you mean by that is they all want my estate and money."

"Of course. That is what all noble and royal marriages are about. I have learned to love my wife and queen, and she I. But if I had the power to change the ancient laws of the spirits…" he wiped some dirt from Gilbert's cheek. "You would be sitting on the throne beside me."

"I won't marry anyone. I don't need some forced relationship for I am powerful and successful on my own!" He smirked softly. "If I were to marry, then it would have to be by my choice. I will marry no man, for I am the lord and master! A woman is more suitable, yet I am not the easiest man to live with. I would only marry ONE woman in particular, but her sword would gut me before I even finish the offer."

Fredrick's features turned serious. "If it was necessary and I command it of you, then would you? A noble marriage, I mean."

Gilbert stared at him for a moment then averted his eyes to the floor, staring at his muddy boots. "Why would you put me with someone else when-"

"You are correct. I won't allow it!" Fredrick stormed away from him and Gilbert watched the man with curious interest. The king picked one of the swords from his wall and walked back over to Gilbert. "Kneel."

"Highness?" Gilbert was confused.

"Kneel, Gilbert!" Gilbert went down on one knee before him and the sword was placed on his right shoulder. "I knight you, Sir Gilbert of House Prussia, Lord of Berlin, and Head Moon Knight of the Lunar Spirit." Gilbert looked up at him in surprise. "Arise, Sir Gilbert." Gilbert stood before him.

"I…uh…thank you for this great honor." Gilbert was still in slight shock at the sudden rise in status. "But, a Moon Knight? The Lunar Spirit? It is a celibate group of warriors that-" pink eyes widened in realization at the serious expression on Fredrick's face "-that are consecrated to their deity…and can never marry or engage in intercourse." Gilbert did not like the last part.

"This was the hardest decision I have ever had to make for it only pushes you further away from me. Yet now, you will be protected from noble unions, and this way, no one else can have you if it can't be me."

Gilbert looked at him and gave a genuine smile. "And I promise that no one will serve you better or more truer than I." Fredrick pulled him into a hug, which Gilbert eagerly returned. "I will always serve and protect you, my king. So few people, if any, are allowed this privilege from me."

"In this dangerous and treacherous royal world, any king would be relieved to know they have one true person in their realm. And I thank you for that."

Gilbert could still remember that hug, and it became one of many as the years went on. He always had to wonder what Fredrick would think of him if the man were here now. "Fritzy…" Gilbert said the nickname softly. "I think that Ludwig guy is on to me…"

The door clunked open and Gilbert carefully turned his head to see the councilman from earlier entering accompanied by four guards. Gilbert forced himself to sit up on the bed.

"Gilbert," the man started "We are here to escort you to the execution viewing." Gilbert said nothing, only glared. "The king will not be attending today."

"Of course he won't be attending. The king is dead, and I recognize no other king than Fredrick himself." Gilbert was unsure the men would get what he was saying so he had to spell it out for them.

"Silence this man."

The councilman gave his orders and the guards went to Gilbert's bed. He put up a bit of a struggle as the men pulled him from the bed and forced him to stand. One of the guards held out the bar gag, which reminded Gilbert of a horse's bit. It was thrust into his mouth and strapped behind his head tightly. He really did feel like an animal. After his wrists were heavily shackled, the guard took the chain and tugged, forcing Gilbert to walk. The other three remained on all sides while the councilman led them to the courtyard.

Once the air hit his ill-prepared body, he knew his misfortune was only just beginning. The snow had been cleared away and piled high along the courtyard walls. His feet stung against the ice-cold stone while he was led through a small crowd of people. The sounds of the people echoed in his ears, yet he did not see any of them. His eyes were focused on the large pyre ahead of him where the executioner stood. Gilbert tried to make out if it were Ludwig or not, but he would have his answer once the man walked. The condemned people, two in total, were already tied around the pyre, struggling weakly in their binds. He would be able to look at the two better once he was chained to his 'pole'. What he was unprepared for was the sudden wave of vegetables that were being thrown at him. Bits of cabbage, radish tops, potato skins, and other unrecognizable greens were in the mix. They were shouting words of 'heretic', 'traitor', 'turncloak', and 'demon' to name a few.

The reaction of the crowd was no longer a bother to him because he knew these people were doing it out of fear. It was expected of them to taunt and abuse a traitor to the crown, even if the king were not here. There was a chance the king was present, hidden somewhere from view. He may be watching everyone with a keen eye, and Gilbert could not let himself waver or show weakness. With a straight face in the shriving cold, the guards latched the end of the chain to an iron loop in a post; just some feet away from the pyre stand itself. He was forced to his knees and once the cold hit his skin, it made his body give a violent shudder. Teeth wanted to chatter, but the iron bit in his mouth prevented it. The thin material of clothing did nothing to keep out the cold. Gilbert found it impossible to keep his body from not shivering with the chilling winter wind biting at his skin. It was a sudden horrible, horrible thought that crossed his mind but it wondered if the fire from the pyre would warm him. Gilbert was disgusted with himself for thinking something so awful that it almost brought a single tear to his eye.

He could not bring himself to look at the people tied to the pyre just yet. Pink eyes darted around the courtyard, surrounded by people shouting loudly. Gilbert tried to look for a familiar face of any kind, since so many eyes were on him and his position. Some laughed and pointed, others hollered insults, and some even spit at him as they walked by. This was proving to be a little more than simple fear of a ruler. Gilbert had forgotten that these common people loved to relish in the fall and humiliation of a noble. He had to wonder if some of these people had been the ones he had wronged, such as proving they cheated in cards or pulling them into a brawl. Whatever the reason, he was clearly not a popular public icon with this particular crowd. Just when he thought he was all-alone in this hellhole, he caught sight of a familiar face.

'Roderich!' His friend was in the crowd, weaving in and out of them like a phantom in a purple velvet hooded cloak. He had to wonder what Roderich was doing and if the man had noticed him yet. Roderich had to have known by now where he was but had to keep their knowledge of each other a secret. He hoped Lizzy was not here to witness any of what was about to happen. Even though the woman was able to handle more than the average man, Gilbert still felt the need to shield her from some things. 'Are any of the others present?' He looked around for the other major leaders of his cause, such as Alfred, Arthur, and Yao. The three were most likely spread out among the kingdom and have not yet heard word of this execution. But Gilbert had faith in Roderich and knew the man had sent some sort of warning letter to the others.

Which brought him back to the center of the courtyard where the pyre stood. Looking at the people, he noticed one was a man and the other a woman. He did not recognize either of them, but that was to be expected. One of the councilmen present came to stand in front of the pyre and opened a scroll, reading out loud the crimes of the convicted. They had been found harboring Spirit artifacts and idols instead of giving them up to the 'cleansing bonfire' the king had issued once he came to power. Gilbert had suggested in a speech that they were to all keep at least one relic of the true spirits. They were also harboring a traveling preacher of the old religion, a name Gilbert almost recognized. He said a silent prayer to the spirits to give these people a quick death so they would not have to suffer for his cause.

His cause.

This is what the fake king and councilmen had put him here for, to witness all the evils that will happen to his followers. They want him to surrender and call off the crusade, but that is something he would never do. It was another cruel saying, but the needs of the many outweigh the needs a few. He knew there was going to be risks and hardships, but the rebellion had to be set into action. Restoring the old ways and removing the fake king from the throne will help everyone in the kingdom. It was all for a just cause.

And then, the executioner began to move. Gilbert's eyes, chilled as they were, focused on the man's moving body. A limp. A small limp, but it was the walk and stance that Gilbert recognized. Ludwig tried to hide the limp by walking slowly, but Gilbert could not be fooled. Once he saw Ludwig lift up that large burning torch from the fire bucket, Gilbert's blood froze even colder in his veins. The crowd was yelling 'traitors' and 'bastards' at the couple as they themselves shouted verses of the old Spirits. Gilbert's body was trembling, but he was unsure if it was from the cold or from the sight that will soon burst in to flames before him. Ludwig, still hooded, held the torch out to start one side of the pyre. Gilbert saw him stick one burning torch through the bundle of branches before getting a new one from the bucket. The first flame was beginning to grow and eat through the thin bundles. The couple struggled to get away from the flames, but soon Ludwig had moved to the other side and lit it aflame as well.

Gilbert could only sit there on the ice-cold ground and watched as two loyal subjects of Fredrick's realm were engulfed by the towering flames. They had been tied so tightly against the pyre that they could barely struggle to free themselves from the flames licking at their bodies. They cried out and coughed heavily from the smoke. Gilbert could even smell the burning wood and flesh as the flames climbed higher towards the sky. For a moment he saw himself being tied to that pyre while flames ate away at his flesh. The king wanted to change the laws of noblemen executions, so his punishment may turn in to a burning such as this. It was either his rotting head placed on a pike in the traitors' hall for all to see, or his burnt and crisp body tied to some wood. Either way, he would share in a brutal death proudly alongside the others whom continue to fight bravely in his and Fredrick's name.

Finally, his lingering gaze turned to Ludwig, who seemed to be staring right back at him. Gilbert had to wonder if he should reveal that he knows who Ludwig is. There was nothing he wanted more than to figure out more about the man and how he could kill so easily. He would have to ask Ludwig if he felt any remorse at all for the people being killed. As much as he wanted to glare at the 'executioner', the cold was proving to be his biggest problem at the moment with his limbs growing numb. His body continued to shudder and shiver as the flames swallowed up the people inside. Now even his ears for numb for the cheering of the crowd grew mute, and his eyes ached to stay open in the cold wind. Briefly, he caught a glimpse of Elizaveta in the crowd, looking worriedly at him before Roderich subtly shielded her with his cloak. Pink eyes met purple, and Gilbert could see the look of pity in Roderich's eyes for him.

His eye contact with Roderich never broke even as he was forcefully lifted to his feet, which would not support his weight due to the extreme cold. One of the guards carefully lifted Gilbert over his shoulder and carried him from the crowd. Gilbert allowed his eyes to drop to the stone ground, seeing the people's shoes as he was carried away. He knew they were still shouting insults and jaunts at him; he did not have to hear to know it was happening. Some things were still being thrown at him, but at this point he did not care. So he allowed his mind to draw a blank as he was brought back into the dungeon wing.

/

'It has to be the dream.' Ludwig reasoned with himself as he walked through the dungeon halls, making his rounds. His hands and clothes still smelt of the fire from the execution, yet it was better than the smell of blood. Ludwig hardly paid attention to the people he set the flames too, only focusing on Gilbert bound and gagged half naked in the courtyard. 'It has to be the dream. If not then why would I care about seeing a bound man? I see them all the time.' He hoped another dream would not come to him for he feared it would be the same as before, only with a bound Gilbert in chains.

But Gilbert was proving to be very different from the normal range of men he came in contact with here at the dungeon. He still had to question himself and his lustful feelings towards the man. Seeing him bound today only made the stirring in his loins grow hotter, but thanks to the cold he was able to contain it from public sight. It was so very strange to him, this massive attraction for a man, who treated him as if he were nothing and was extremely arrogant on top of everything else. Ludwig wondered if he was just feeling smug about the notion of a knight and lord falling from power, especially one with a big head like Gilbert. If so, then that would place him in the general population crowd, a spot where he did not want to be.

Once his rounds were finished, Ludwig headed back to his chamber to rest his leg and warm up from the cold. He did not feel comfortable going to see Gilbert on his rounds in fear of jumping the man to relieve himself of the sexual tension. Ludwig was even tempted to ask the councilmen if he could perform the 'examination' on Gilbert himself when the time came. The fact that he even thought that made his stomach turn with shame, and he flopped face first on the bed. He was supposed to kill this man, not lust over him for reasons he could not understand. It was only a matter of time before he had to deliver Gilbert's food and with any luck, the man would still be worn out from the cold. That way, Ludwig would be less tempted to jump the man.

'Why me?' He asked himself with a moan. Nothing could ever be simple.

/

"Fire…don't die out on me." Gilbert spoke to the fire in the hearth, his teeth chattering. It had taken quite a while for the feeling to come back in his limbs, yet he would not trust himself to get up and move around. He thoroughly hated the winter now and prayed that it would not snow again for the rest of the season. He thought he was hearing things, but a soft voice eventually reached his ears. Turning his head, Gilbert looked towards the door and listened.

"Gillie!" It was a whispered voice and the only person who was allowed to call him that was Elizaveta.

"Lizzy?" Gilbert gave a grunt as he forced himself to stand on stiff legs and wobble over to the door. "I'm here." He answered softly through the wood. "I saw you today at the execution…are you alright?"

"Ugh. Why does everyone keep asking me that? I'm okay, really. It is a shame, yes, and I feel bad for the people, but there is still so much work we have to do that will benefit everyone."

"Nothing bothers you." Gilbert said with a chattering smirk.

"I was more concerned about you. How are you doing?"

"Well, now I know what an icicle feels like, but other than that I am doing well enough. Still, you know I don't like it when you come to this place."

She scoffed. "Too bad, I don't listen to you." Gilbert could picture her annoyed face right now. "Aside from checking on you, I came to say that our friend has sent out letters to the others. The new king is starting a crusade of his own…a heretic hunt it would seem."

Gilbert ran a hand down his face. "A heretic hunt?" He rolled his eyes with a growl. "I fucking hate that boy-king! All he does is strike fear into the hearts of the people he is sworn to protect!"

"I understand your frustration, trust me. I'm more furious than you are. Everything is becoming more dangerous by the day and I fear many of our supporters will bail on us."

Gilbert rests his back against the door. "I fear the same. What does our 'friend' say?"

"Hopefully by warning the others, everyone can lay low for a short bit until more information is found. But what we fear for the most is your safety while in this dreadful place."

He smirked lazily. "You wonder if I will live long enough for things to smooth out."

"…yes, that is what we fear for you. Should you lose your life, then many of our followers will lose hope." Her voice softened to a tiny whisper. "I don't want that to happen."

"Which? Me dying or our crusade going to shit?"

"Both. Our friend is working tirelessly to save you."

"I know. Give him my thanks when you see him. Let me know about our friends when 'he' hears from them. You'd best leave now, Lizzy. Please say you have some new sheets ready for me?" Gilbert looked to his stripped bed.

"Yes. I have laid new sheets outside the door. You will just have to be patient and wait for the other servants to change them for you."

"Thanks. Keep safe, and I hope to hear from you again soon."

"You keep safe as well, Gillie."

Gilbert waited until he was certain she had left before taking his seat back in front of the fire. He stared into the flames and spoke in a whisper. "Watch out for us, Fredrick. Oh how I wish I could be doing more." Gilbert folded his knees up to his chest and buried his face between them.

/

Ludwig had finally pulled himself together and left his room to head to Gilbert's cell. Since he had been gone for a while, he wondered if food had already been brought to the man. He had to make the trip to the room regardless to see if anything was delivered. Up ahead of him in the hall walked a young woman holding a large basket of white bed linens. Ludwig had never seen her around before. The closer she came the more her features were revealed in the torch light. She had long light brown hair and green eyes, which glanced at his the moment they passed. He paused for a moment in curiosity before turning to walk beside her. "May I help you with that?"

She held it away from him as he reached for it. "No, I can carry it."

"I meant no offense. It looks heavy so I thought I would offer to carry it for you."

"No thank you. Chivalry is not my style." She smiled sweetly. "I am used to carrying such heavy things."

Ludwig's eyebrow twitched a bit but he continued to follow her. Something seemed a little off about this woman but he could not put his finger on it. "You should not be here alone. All the serving women come in pairs, yet you come alone. It's not wise."

She paused on the second step leading up to the main level of the dungeon and turned to face him. "Are you going to try anything?"

Ludwig blinked, surprised by the question. "Of course not."

"Then I'm not worried. Tell me whom I should look out for if that will ease your conscience of a woman wandering around freely in 'these parts'. Which men do I need to fear?"

"Um…" Ludwig was confused "Sometimes men lose control of themselves if they have been drinking or the like…and attempt to pester a serving girl…"

She gave him a smile and wink. "I really am fine, so you don't have to worry about little ol' me. I fear no man."

"Alright." What else could he say to that? "Have a good day, then."

Ludwig watched as she continued up the stairs and disappeared around the bend. He remained at the bottom of the steps still in a slight fog by the strange woman he had just encountered. She certainly did not speak like a serving girl, but perhaps she came from strong willed parents or belonged to a specific noble lord. Not all servants were forced into full submission. Whatever the reason, he felt the need to keep a close watch on her for something did not seem right. He turned his thoughts from her and went on his way to Gilbert's cell, seeing the new sheets piled at the base of the door. Picking the pile up in his arms, he unlocked the door with a free hand and entered.

"Gilbert?" He locked the door behind him and turned to see the prisoner in front of the fireplace. "I have fresh sheets for you."

Gilbert did not turn to look at him. "I'll put them on."

Ludwig looked at the bed, seeing the first mattress stripped and the thin bottom mattress still with a sheet. "Let me remove the bottom one for you then. It should be washed."

"NO!" Gilbert hollered. "I'll take care of it. I don't fucking need anyone's help in making a simple bed!"

"I meant no offense." The same words he had said to the woman.

Gilbert continued to glare at him. "I just had to watch a burning today, so forgive me if I'm a little tense!" Gilbert did not want anyone discovering the pendant under the bottom mattress. He had already destroyed Roderich's note.

"Okay." Ludwig said softly.

"Hey, let me ask you this. If you were that executioner, how would you feel about standing by and watching people burn? People whom you set fire to. How would you feel?"

Ludwig kept a straight face but gave an easy answer. "Looking at it from a soldier's point of view, it would probably feel no different than killing someone on the battlefield."

"Why? Why do you say that?" Gilbert stood, the chain clinking as it hung to his belly.

"Why do you think? You are a fighter the same as I. We are told to kill the enemy, whether they are innocent or not. I would assume executions are the same fundamentals. Someone broke the law, they are an enemy, and they must be punished. A soldier on the battlefield is an enemy because someone of a higher power said they are. You and I were sent out to our possible deaths on many occasions. Many people are put on trial for death, yet they may be freed, just as we may come home from the battlefield alive. I fail to see the difference."

"It is not the same."

"You're being stubborn and speaking from grief. What I say makes sense and you know it." He placed the sheet pile on the bed. "Did you ever complain about King Fredrick when HE sentenced someone to death?"

Gilbert remained silent and still for a moment and then, "you're starting to piss me off."

"Yes, because a lowly soldier knows more about life's messages than you do." He remained still as the other man walked up to him.

"Care to repeat that last sentence?" He said in a dangerous tone. "I don't think I heard you. I tend to tune out the ramblings of battlefield PAWNS." He said the last part with snobbish distain.

Ludwig's anger came to the surface and it showed by how red his face grew. Gilbert nearly choked as the chain was pulled and the iron collar with it. He was inches apart from Ludwig's face as the man held the chain up high. "I dare you to repeat those words again, PRISONER."

End Chapter 4 TBC
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White Crimson