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On the Other Side of the Pillow	By : mykonosparadise Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 4761 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers nor any characters from the series. I don't make money on the fiction.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Beta'd by raecat

- Chapter 6 -

There came a single rap on the door.

Roderich gazed inside and found Ludwig nestled in a sofa, snug with a book near the hearth, alone. He was looking wistfully at the crackling fire that glowed in the grate, listening for the sound of the vile weather outside. His eyelids, weighted with trouble, drooped low. Ash-pale face matched the neck-frills of white that hid his neck—even when his features caught the flash of the flames the paleness was visible, the orange glow couldn't conceal it.

Footsteps jarred Ludwig awake. A look of puzzlement flit across his face when he saw the Austrian, before acknowledging him with a dip of his head.

"My apologies for imposing on your hospitality at such an hour, Ludwig." Roderich started. "I have long wanted to ask you a question."

Upon Ludwig offering no objection, he took a seat.

Ludwig thought it was a strange time to hold a conversation. The Austrian surely had something more fitting to occupy his leisure hours. He felt a yawn wanting to escape, but he had hardly opened his mouth when he paused with his hand in mid-air, half-way from his lips. It suddenly dawned on him.

Ludwig was struck dumb with sudden terror.

He bolted upright and peeped at his wooden chest that lay closed on the sofa. Too late.

"I beg pardon. What is in that box?"

A blast of shock rushed through the younger nation, freezing his body, his movements. He couldn't find his voice, mortified at the unseemly question. He lifted his eyes to inspect the inspector.

"What box?" He almost stammered, his head in a turbid thought process. Fear welled up inside him. He wished Roderich wouldn't tamper with the questions.

"The one you are hiding behind your back." Roderich harped on it.

Ludwig's face suffused with a glow of shame.

"It is nothing of great importance." His cheeks were on fire. He looked away, striving to free himself of the pressure of Roderich's gaze. Eyes with calm unconcern watched him, thwarting his attempts to breathe properly. Why couldn't he breathe? Where was all the air?

"Ludwig, are you hiding something?"

Ludwig waited until the violence of his fear has worn itself out.

"No." He replied, now showing a defiant spirit. Roderich kept a watch upon his manners, but he took this slight. Ludwig's refusal to answer questions added fuel to his curiosity.

Secrecy engendered suspicion.

Ludwig was determined not to divulge any information. Damnation was sure for him for practicing deception on both Gilbert and Roderich.

"Will you reveal to me the urging matter now?" Ludwig asked with an air of injury.

"Naturally." Roderich replied, veering the conversation onto another topic. "I hope to have a word with you about an important issue. I have a question concerning Gilbert."

Ludwig's heart quivered.

"What about him?" A lump rose in his throat as he spoke, gaze glued to the floor. Roderich coughed into his fist—perhaps to draw his attention or pausing to muse over his words, but Ludwig held his gaze.

"Have you noticed a change in his behavior?" Roderich pursued.

Ludwig felt faint.

"No. I think not." He said with a little impatience. To shun Roderich's cold, uncompromising gaze, he had his fists resolutely clenched, eyes fixed on the same spot.

"And in yours?" The Austrian said with sudden gravity.

That tone foxed him.

"I cannot follow." Ludwig replied in a demure voice, gazing up timidly. It didn't fool Roderich. He knew too well that appearances were misleading—that reticence and coyness had to be a veil for richly sexual nature.

"Ludwig, I am far older than you. I try to distance myself from allegations, and I don't wish to wrong you by reckless hurling of unfounded accusations. My intentions are noble. This is a brief advice, but the best one I can give you. Whatever you have been doing until now—drop it."

It was of no avail for Ludwig to fight against the branching chill that crept up his ribs from both sides of his frozen spine.

He could have given a straight answer, but instead he hedged again.

"I do not know what you mean." He paltered, abashed.

Roderich sighed at his evasive replies.

"I do know." A brisk reply came. "Let me be frank with you, Ludwig. Your behavior has become increasingly strange." This put a completely different hue on the matter. Ludwig felt another chill run down his spine.

"Can you say, hand on heart, that you did not secretly visit Gilbert at night without his consent? Can you claim that your conscience is clear?"

"My conscience is perfectly clear." Ludwig said with some heat. It was a deliberate lie, but Roderich let it pass again. "There is no tangible evidence to support your claim." The blond continued in a dry tone, pride too entered his voice. The little he had left. "There is not a scrap of evidence to prove it." He fortified his argument.

He glued his eyes to the hearth, wrapped in his fluffy shelter, avoiding the Austrian's gaze, his face a glowing fire.

Roderich knew: he felt it. He knew.

He knew all along that he has developed a mad obsession with Gilbert.

He had already composed himself to face the inevitable and chose not to disclose his secrets.

"Verily, I'm here as an impartial third party. I beseech you to think again, Ludwig. Be guided by your conscience. What are you hiding?"

Ludwig had no immediate comment.

His confidence was besieged by Roderich's questions.

"I do not understand any of what you are saying." There wasn't a vestige of truth in what he spoke. Roderich listened to his flummery without believing it.

"Don't pull the wool over my eyes, Ludwig, I am not your guileless Gilbert."

Ludwig was on the ropes. Chased into a corner, he shrunk back in revulsion, shrank into his sofa, into himself. He wanted to hide his face in shame.

Roderich was convinced of his guilt, he merely came here to pry the secret out of him.

Mocked by Fortune again.

He gnashed. Roderich took his time in tormenting him.

Didn't he have at least an ounce of compassion? Couldn't he sense his despair? Why didn't he see how vulnerable he was? Roderich didn't know how it was to be stalked by the threat of being discovered. In order to put a stop to his anguish and humiliation, he twisted his fingers in his creamy breeches, a look of malignity entered his beautiful eyes.

"Uncle Roderich, you—you better leave me." He gritted out after few moments of silence with some secrecy.

Roderich came at a heavy moment, at a sharp downturn in his life. Telling lies to him was already difficult enough for Ludwig, but re-opening the subject of Gilbert now that he was finally set on avoiding any further nightly visits and finding elusive happiness was torment. He couldn't bear the humiliating reminder. He couldn't allow himself to be beset by nasty rumors about his private life. Ludwig knew that if Roderich were to tell Prussia about his suspicions, it was inevitable that Gilbert's pure vision of him would shatter, and their bond then had to shatter along with it.

In the stony silence that stretched between them every instant seemed like an hour.

"You misapprehend me, Ludwig." Roderich spoke because he wanted to avoid silence. "I am not made of stone. I ask you, not as a superior, but as a fellow nation, to follow my advice. I urge you, even." Roderich sought his gaze. Instead, Ludwig contented himself with glaring at the carpet.

Roderich's display of affection was certainly a pretense. Ludwig appreciated his advice, but he knew deep down that he couldn't follow it. He couldn't give consent to anything so much was his hurt.

"I reckon you among my friends." Roderich said to soften it off a little and Ludwig felt a pang of bitterness. "I have always used to see you as a nation of probity and good judgment."

Ludwig's look has grown worn. Their conversation rendered him guiltily doubtful. Roderich was touching him in a weak place.

Should he open his breast and confess now?

It was all a ghastly mistake. To come clean of it now and here!

His conscience was too strong to live with the secret; he had to free himself of the burden so that he could live comfortably again.

He was so void of everything that was good, a monster who was slowly destroying his brother's and his own life, and felt remorse only at losing Gilbert. Such a felony he had committed, even death couldn't wash it away.

"I do not doubt that you have entangled yourself in a tricky matter, but ally yourself with reason, Ludwig. For your own sake if not for mine."

He had to pluck up courage and tell him the truth. He had to.

"I don't have to remind you that dignity once lost is lost forever." The Austrian said sagely.

Wrong words. Razor-sharp words.

They cut off every Ludwig's wish to confess.

"I defer to your superior knowledge, but I do not need these pungent observations about mass expectations." The blond said dryly.

"Lie to yourself if you want, but do not lie to me."

"I am upset that you harbor such a terrible notion about me, Uncle Roderich. My brother would never—"

"Your brother in name only. Not by law or blood."

The words stultified him.

His heart couldn't withstand Roderich's arguments. They have been talking for nigh half an hour, yet he wasn't desirous of more conversation. Roderich's presence was a strain.

"I hoped we could have a rational conversation, Ludwig."

Ludwig couldn't listen to his voice anymore. Even a man with dignified bearing could be a brute. In order not to disguise that he wished him gone, Ludwig kept his head down. He was steadily gaining confidence.

"Think twice before you commit a sacrilege. Neither do I think that you can be happy with Prussia."

Ludwig couldn't help but wonder whether he traced a hint of malice in his words.

"How are you to know? You are not in love." He whispered, a quick shame mixed with misery on his face.

Roderich has finally managed to wring an answer out of him.

"This has no bearing on the matter under discussion. My question does not concern your… affection for Gilbert."

"Stop there." A defiant tone in his voice. He would rather torture himself for his entire life than have to lose Gilbert for only a second.

"That is very impolite." Roderich lectured, Ludwig put a brave face on.

"It is meant to be so." Malice lurked in his features as he gave vent to his latent anger.

How dare he go between him and Gilbert.

"I know that you are governed by untapped lust, but don't fool yourself with thought that you will marry or couple with him. You might succeed for a week, a month, a year even, but then someone will find out, Ludwig. Be thankful that no one knows and that nothing worse has happened. No nation of honor would engage in such actions."

How they hurt. How they burned. Words have always been the most powerful weapon.

"I am no nation of honor then." Ludwig wanted to appear confident, but he was weak. Weak as a straw. Roderich's words did the most appalling things to his heart, but the Austrian took no heed of this. He didn't care for his strait. He didn't have ears for his silence.

"As a nation you perform an office of great dignity − you are in a very precarious position, Ludwig." Roderich ventured another try to bring the young German to his senses, "Every vile act would earn a young nation moral rebuke and social condemnation."

His words only evoked a bitter retort.

"A nation can never be dishonored by villainous rumors."

Tears burned in Ludwig's eyes, blurring his vision. There wasn't a drop of sympathy in Roderich.

"Ludwig, why do you gorge yourself on such reckless feelings and thereby risk your reputation and honor?" Roderich pleaded to know.

Ludwig tore at his breeches desperately. He could hardly see through the tears that have gathered in his eyes.

"Is it wrong to cleave to such fond affections?" He said with a lumpy throat, his heart cried aloud for mercy. "What is the matter? Are we disgusting?"

He looked up at him with challenging aggressiveness.

"That question is beyond the scope of this conversation, that is not my point—"

"What is your point then? It is not moral?" Ludwig's voice was cracking, "Is it moral to spend your entire life with someone you do not love?"

Roderich stared, amazed at his reply. These words revealed the extent to which Ludwig had deluded himself to believe that he loved Prussia.

Ludwig tightened his lips. He has been too hasty. Now he was riding on a tide of sympathy.

"Have pity upon me, Uncle Roderich. If you can." He added in a whisper. "If you still hold onto my respect for you." He was crestfallen, exhausted in his body and mind, "I am in no need of an advice. I will have to trust my own luck. It shall be as God wills."

He said no more.

Leaving seemed a sensible decision to Roderich right then. His thoughts wandered back to Prussia for a brief second.

There was no peace between them, only armistice. An armistice that could be broken at any time.

He was devoured by jealousy.

He didn't desire Ludwig in the way Gilbert did, but it was clear whom Ludwig would choose if Gilbert and he were to take the opposing sides. Ludwig's loyalty to Prussia far surpassed Ludwig's liking for him. He could do virtually nothing to prevent their love for each other, but he could do what was most favorable to him, and that was to keep them apart.

"The fire has burned out."

Roderich averted his gaze and found that it was true. Grease of the candles was guttering down the sides, it was dark. He understood that Ludwig's words were an oblique reference to the lateness of the hour. On this hint, he resolved to leave.

"In that case I won't inflict my company on you any longer. It was foolish of me to come here." He added in a somewhat lower voice.

Upon that, he stood and ungainly walked out, leaving the blond to mourn silently.

Ludwig didn't even gaze after him.

He rose, took a step, two steps, but sat anew.

He was so sick at heart that he could barely move. He felt rejected and humiliated. Hurt and offended.

Another bitter pill that he had to swallow this month. One problem after another landed in his lap. After Roderich's departure, he felt a powerful regret. The words he had said assumed even more power in his mind. They seemed to weigh on him more and more; he was shaken by their implications. The subtle sense of suspicion and dread seized Ludwig's mind. It was time to put an end to his fond hopes—a discovery of his doings meant not only a loss of reputation. He was pure and chaste in Gilbert's eyes. He dreaded to think what his brother would do if he were to find out.

His head was swimming.

Fortune scourged him again, and expressed her hostility by toying with him now when he latterly seemed to have returned to normal. It seemed like he was fated to suffer.

Isolated in his despair, he sat limply, careworn, broken by misery, wracked with guilt.

Some words would have been better left for silence.

His solitude was broken by tapping. He heard the door open and close, and a moment later Gilbert was beside him. His hand flew to his side—the box wasn't there, thank God!

Ludwig didn't bring tea to his brother's room that night, and he came to seek him out.

Gilbert's eyes wandered over Ludwig's sickly-white face bathing in the glow of the embers in the grate.

Impulsively, Ludwig faced the opposite direction.

Gilbert wished he could do something to remove that crease between his furrowed brows.

"Ludwig, what makes you so morose?" He spoke in smooth tones. "Come, a cup of hot tea will lift your spirits."

The Prussian seated himself by his side.

Tears, blinding tears, burned in his eyes. His pale complexion grew richer in hue. Robbed of his pride, Ludwig parted his lips and turned to him, but slowly—everything was happening so slowly, it seemed time would come to a halt and the world itself would stop turning. He stood still for few quiet moments, searing words wouldn't come out of his mouth.

He would have to deal with the problems facing him, but first… first—

He threw himself into the arms of the nation which has caused all his sorrows.

Ludwig's broken sob was a stab through Gilbert's heart.

Ludwig hid his face in the folds and ruffs of Gilbert's high-standing collar as if he was trying escape and hide from an assassin. After his first flush of embarrassment has died, he spread Gilbert's vest and pressed his cheek below his very heart, hiding again in the soft linen of his shirt. If he could just stay there for a decade, for an eternity, curled up under his heart, in his warmth and protection, there where he was shielded from all evil.

Gilbert threaded his fingers through the blond hair and tried to tilt his head up to face him, but Ludwig shook his head with determination, hiding against his chest stubbornly.

This disobedience he accepted.

He embraced Ludwig to hold him tightly to his breast, pressed him more closely to his body. He crooned, voice soft and low, like murmuring tenderly to a sleepy child while he sheltered him in his arms. Ludwig felt him stroke soothingly up and down his back as he rocked them upon the sofa in a gentle sway, like he used to.

Gilbert breathed something into his ear; there was a strange magic in his simple words. He felt well-protected and guarded in his arms, so comforting was his embrace.

He didn't know how long their silent clasp lasted, how long Gilbert's hand continued to lace through his hair.

"Let me look at you."

Ludwig choked on his demand. He tried to nuzzle himself into his chest further, shaking his head in sorrow at Gilbert's entreat.

The intensity of this emotion startled him—he winced like a wounded animal.

Great blue eyes watched Gilbert, brimming with tears. He was sure he looked like an effete little weakling in his brother's eyes. The thought hurt him.

Gilbert didn't speak again. Instead, he caressed along the arch of Ludwig's cheekbone with his knuckles, lay a kiss on Ludwig's forehead, and on his right cheek. His cooing murmur, the velvety touch of his lips that passed over his brow, a puff of warm breath on his forehead—all made Ludwig's heart race.

He would die for a kiss on the lips.

'Lord, let him love me as I love him.'

Ludwig's thoughts gnawed at his heart while he followed up the small visible patch of Gilbert's white throat. His thoughts were led to a new, but familiar direction. He had a sudden desire to kiss him, to reach out to his platinum-blond hair and wrap his hands in it. His feelings were running amok.

He dragged his eyes away from Gilbert's, but his brother pressed him earnestly again. Ludwig was docile and so easy to control at the moment that Gilbert coaxed him to lie on the sofa with no difficulty. Gilbert leaned back, supine with Ludwig in safety.

They spent some time in humble silence.

"I make a comical sight, no doubt." Ludwig's chin was nuzzled into his brother's chest as he spoke, but the words were still distinguishable. Gilbert didn't answer and he stole a glance at the Prussian. The gaze revealed to him worry and other subtle emotions he couldn't recognize.

They remained thus for a long time, and when Gilbert entangled himself from his embrace to replenish fire, Ludwig was almost asleep.

He could feel the imprint of his brother's kiss on his cheek before his silence spirited the Prussian out of the room. His heart screamed out for him in something that was longing or love, or both, but he couldn't speak.

When loneliness stretched its gloom over him, he sat up, looking blankly around his staid bedroom.

He fostered no hope anymore.

The stage was set for Ludwig's hardest challenge—to avoid the temptation to give in to desire again in order to help himself.

In low spirits, he approached his bed to lie down dully, with Gilbert's kiss on his cheek.

He crept onto the mattress and spent one of the loneliest nights of his life there.

To Be Continued…
- 5
- 6
- 7
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On the Other Side of the Pillow