This House Is Not A Home {Germancest}

Chapter 1

A/N: Let me just say that this fic (this entire series, really) has been a long time coming, and I am very excited to be starting! I did say I would update on Sundays, but not every Sunday, unfortunately. This fic is taking a backburner to Anarchy in the US, which is where I am putting the majority of my energy at the moment. But it will be finished, and the series will be continued!!!

Note that Ludwig's dogs are not Blackie, Berlitz and Aster, but new dogs. I don't share the headcanon that Ludwig's dogs are weirdly immortal like Gilbert's fucking canary lmao I know in canon, it's different. But this is just how I'm writing it.

Another thing to note is that in the flashbacks, Gilbert's name is never mentioned unless someone is speaking. Gilbert is referred to as He, Him, Brother, etc, the words capitalized with proper nouns. This just feels like the right thing to do, as though Ludwig hurts too much remembering these things and almost can't bear to mention Gilbert's name. The fic starts with a date, and then a flashback. Sooooo basically, the what's happening in the flashback is omg -- in the past!!! not happening on the 10th of October!!! Ludwig is just remembering it.

Songs used in this chapter: This House Is Not A Home by Three Days Grace; See What I've Become by Two Steps From Hell; Necrosis by Future World Music; When It All Falls Down by Audiomachine; If I Had A Heart by Fever Ray; Drink The Water by Justin Cross

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10 October, 1990.

"Luddy," Elizaveta regarded Ludwig with something like pity, placing a gentle hand on his arm. "Honey, it's great that he's free, now. We're all happy about that. Honestly, none of us can believe he lived through what he did..." She sighed, pulling her hand away to daintily lift the ornate China tea cup to her lips. "It's just..."

Ludwig raised his eyebrows when Roderich, eyes downcast, placed a supportive arm around Elizaveta.

"Just tell me." It was a whisper, his breath trembling on the air.

The Hungarian looked up at him, eyes large and sad, full of remorse -- as though this was somehow her fault. "Ludwig, he's changed. He's not... He's not the man any of us thought we knew.

Ludwig looked at her for a moment, then leaned back and scoffed. This woman, working him up into a tizzy when he was high strung enough as it was. "Well of course, he'll be different." He frowned, attempting to get the thoughts across without actually lingering on them. "I can't imagine what he must have gone through over there... And he's... not... He was --" Ludwig cleared his throat and reached for his little cup, much too small and fragile for large, labor-hewn hands. He couldn't say it. None of them could say it, yet. In the beginning it was all anyone talked about, the way He survived his own execution, the way He was stripped of everything, the way He was silent and held His head high through it all.

"No." Roderich startled the two of them, speaking for the first time since Ludwig's arrival. He'd said hello, he'd said it's nice out today, we have cakes and coffee in the kitchen, how are the dogs. But he hadn't really said anything, nothing of meaning, of import. Ludwig thought, looking back on the relationship between Roderich and He, that the Austrian simply didn't like Him, and was therefore not thinking much about His return.

"No..." He repeated, lifting his eyes to gaze at Ludwig thoughtfully. "I don't think you understand. Listen to us, Lutz. He's not the same. He's not like you remember. He's... I didn't like him, but I respected him. Now... from what Elizaveta has told me --"