The Blindfolded Dancer (ThirdUnion) (Back?)

Chapter One

(Just an idea of what Reich's ballroom looks like (-the table))

(Third Person POV)

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Reich rose early, stretching his slender arms over his head and yawning. It had been 4 years since he lost his sight, and he knew his whole house by heart. Especially the ballroom. Reich loved his ballroom. He stretched the dark wings on his back and rose to his feet, wandering down the hall to wake his son, Germany. It wasn't easy being a single parent, but Reich had enough experience to be a decent mother. He shook the teenage boy lightly. "Rise and shine Mein kleines Deutschland." He murmured, stroking the boys hair. He stirred, opening his eyes blearily. "Mutter?" He whispered, blinking several times. "Yes dear, it's me." He responded, tapping his son on the nose. That woke him up. "Mutter I'm not a child anymore." He whined, shoving his mothers hands away from his face and earning a soft laugh. "You may not be, but you are still Mein kleines Deutschland." He teased the boy, smiling. Germany rolled his eyes, which Reich took no notice to. I mean, how could he? He was blind. All thanks to one asshole nagging Soviet because he didn't get his way. Reich hated that man with every bone in his body. Ever since the incident, as he referred to call it.

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(Four Years Ago)

"YOU NEVER LET ME DO ANYTHING!" Reich screamed at the taller male, tears in his eyes. "Every time I come here, you force me to stay with you. Why?" He snapped, glaring at him. Soviet growled quietly under his breath, but Reich still heard him. "Oh? Am I making you angry now? I hope so you possessive bag of shi-" He choked off with a scream as he felt chemicals burn his eyes. Soviet had no idea what he had just done until he saw Reich cripple to the ground at his feet, sobbing. "I fucking hate you. Arschloch." Reich choked out, covering his eyes. His entire skull felt as if it was being hammered in half. Soviet's father came rushing in. "Что, во имя бога..." He whispered, eyes wide. "Father-" Soviet started before stopping himself. Trying to explain would do no good, he acted out of anger, and Reich had paid the price.

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(Present Time)

Reich shook off the memory, disgusted. He had done nothing to Soviet. He had followed his rules, stayed by his side when he was told to, and what did he get out of trying to ask questions? The loss of his sight. Germany tugged on his mothers sleeve. "Mutter? You look distressed." He said quietly, jerking Reich from his thoughts. "I'm alright dear, just a little lost in thought." He murmured, pulling his now standing son into a hug, cuddling his wings around him. "Mutter! You'll get feathers in my hair!" He gasped, struggling to pull away. Reich smiled. "And what's so bad about that?" He teased, brushing the tops of his wings across his sons shoulder length hair. Germany laughed, struggling out of his mothers grip, brushing the dark toned feathers out of his hair with his fingers. "I don't think so kleines Deutschland. Get back here." He laughed, catching the boy as he tried to run away. "Noo-" He whined in fake agony, collapsing against his mother. "You caught me. I'm doomed." He sighed dramatically. This was just another normal morning in Reich's household.

(Little Time skip)

Germany wandered the many halls quietly, making as little noise as possible. Since losing his sight, Reich's hearing had improved majorly, and any small noise could be heard. Especially if he was in the ballroom, which was where Germany was headed now. He didn't want to break his mothers concentration, but he loved to watch him dance. He was extremely graceful. He sat on the floor just inside the doorway to the ballroom and watched as his mother glided across the floor, pulling off moves even the Russian Empire would be jealous of. R.E may have grace, but he had nothing compared to this. The gentle tones of a violin and piano washed over Germany as he watched his mother, and he smiled as the song ended, and Reich bowed in his direction. "You heard me coming even after I tried to be quiet?" He questioned his mother quietly. "I did indeed. Try not to wear your boots next time Deutschland." He responded, a soft smile on his face. "Britain called." Germany muttered, agitated. His mothers mood shifted in a split second. "What did he say?" He questioned quietly, looking as angry as Germany felt. "He said he wanted to speak with you about alliance plans." He said, rolling his eyes. Reich scoffed. "I will not sign any alliance papers. Not after what happened with that bastard Soviet." He snapped, turning his head away and crossing his slender arms across his chest. He hated Britain almost as much as he hated Soviet. Soviet was power hungry, and wanted a lover at his side. He was almost obsessed with the thought of Reich being his spouse. Britain on the other hand just wanted power. France had ended things with him awhile back, and now having to take care of 2 children, he wanted revenge. Soviet may be crazy, but Britain? He takes crazy to a whole other level. Germany noticed his mothers fury at the same time he noticed the two red lines beginning to trickle down his face. "Mutter, you're stressing yourself." He gasped, standing up and rushing to comfort him. Reich accepted the comfort with open arms, dragging his son to his chest. "What did you tell that psychopath?" He questioned quietly. "I told him you were busy, and that you wouldn't see him even if you weren't. Then I hung up." He said proudly, smiling as his mother laughed. "That's my boy." He said, stroking the hair away from Germany's glasses. How he knew it was there? He didn't know. It must be a motherly instinct. "Is the party still on tonight?" Germany asked, perking up a bit. "Yes Deutschland, the party will still go on. How could I not have guests in my lovely ballroom?" He questioned, laughing to himself. Germany laughed with him, grabbing a tissue and handing it to Reich. "For the tears." He answered as his mother made a questioning sound. Reich made a soft "Ah." and wiped at his face, sighing. "I stress myself too often. But most of it is your fault." He teased his son, earning a soft giggle. "I'm not that bad Mutter." He laughed as Reich cocked an eyebrow. "You nearly gave me a head attack running off with Poland. Never again." He snapped, pulling his son into a tight embrace. "I don't need to lose you, kleines Deutschland. You're all I have left now." He murmured, sighing. Germany hugged him. "I know Mutter. I don't intend to leave you until you're sick of me." He teased, earning another laugh from Reich.

As long as you need me Mutter, I'll be here for you.