WARNING: This story gets pretty sad. I'm not going to lie. I don't pair Prussia and Germany as anything other than brothers. This storry is based off of when I saw a Hetalia version of Rin Kagamine's 'Kokoro', which was changed to 'Cross' After the iron cross that Germany and Prussia both own. I suggest you go look it up, because it really made me cry, and it's pretty inspiring:'D Also, in case you didn't know, Ludwig is Germany's human name, and Gilbert is Prussia's human name. Enjoy the story!
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Ludwig felt the cold iron cross’ touch onto his hand, and Gilbert curled Ludwig’s fingers over it.
‘It’s yours, brother. You are an empire.’ Ludwig’s blue eyes were glazed over and he blinked once, allowing his tear to drop onto his older brother’s gloved hand which held his. Gilbert’s messy silver hair fell over his eyes, so his younger brother could not see the tears.
‘I don’t want you to go, East.’ Ludwig pressed his forehead to Gilbert’s.
‘You have more to worry about.’ Gilbert lifted his younger brother’s chin up so he could see his face. ‘much more.’ He repeated, and gave his brother a tight hug. It felt like tears and blood and hurt, but neither brother cared. They stayed in the embrace, then Ludwig pulled away. Gilbert lifted his brother’s hand up, and coaxed the fingers that latched around the iron cross, to open. He took a small piece of string from his back pocket and threaded the cross onto it before tying it like a necklace on Ludwig’s neck.
‘Wear it like a crown.’ Gilbert said, kissing his brother’s head.
‘I will.’ Ludwig complied, tears jarring his vision so as he looked up, all he could see were two watery, faded bloodshot eyes peeking out behind the tears.
‘You deserve a crown.’ Gilbert stroked his brother’s face and kissed the top of his head.
Ludwig looked up at Gilbert.
‘You’re an empire.’
That did it. The two men melted into each other’s hearts and time stopped. Prussia was weak. Germany was strong. West was prevailing, while East falling. Ludwig knew and well as Gilbert did, and it made his heart wrench. Ich liebe dich, Bruder. Ich werde es immer. I love you brother. I always will.
Germany’s icy blue eyes scanned the battlefield around them. Darkness, war, hurt, clouds shrouded the brothers. He remembered the times before all the death. Before all the fighting. He remembered Prussia and Germany, East and West. Now, it was the German Empire. Nobody else. He stood alone. He remembered one particular scene, permanently etched in his mind.
‘Hold it like this, then- no! Ludwig! Stop your hands with all this shaking nonsense!’ Gilbert walked over to where his young, inexperienced brother was awkwardly pointing a gun at a makeshift target hung atop a hay bale. Gilbert kneeled behind him and stretched his arms round him to steady his hands.
‘Right. Now look where you’re aiming and…’ Bang. Ludwig shot a bullet straight through the bullseye. This was the first instance where he knew he was nothing without his brother. Gilbert stood, laughed loudly and grinned at his brother.
‘You’re getting good! I definitely wouldn’t want to have been in the way of that.’ He praised, examining the target. Ludwig’s cheeks flushed a light pink. He liked it when Gilbert complimented him. It felt so good, coming from such a mighty country.
Now that was all gone. The Prussia he knew, the brother he knew. Gone. He would have to face the world alone from now on.
Gilbert fell to his knees, so Ludwig did too.
‘Brother!’ Ludwig exclaimed. Gilbert let out a pained growl. The colour from his red eyes were fading. He was slipping away, slowly but surely.
‘Brother!?’ Ludwig repeated with urgency.
‘I-It appears it’s-s my time to go, now, bruder’
‘No!’
‘Yes, Ludwig. I-I’ve had my time.’
‘I can’t be an empire! Not without you!’ Ludwig shouted, shaking his head furiously.
‘Wear that cross like a crown. I love you.’ Gilbert breathed, then fell. He fell deep into a black vortex. It was warmer there.
‘Gilbert?’ Ludwig weeped, over and over.
Ludwig felt a familiar hand on his shoulder.
Greeted with watered eyes, Kiku stood over him.
‘He deserves a mighty, and luxurious burial, for such a great man.’
‘Thank you, Japan.’
And then, the Empire sat, crushed, on the cold floor. He had lost someone. Not just anyone, but Gilbert. Prussia. His brother. The person who had helped him become who he was, or whoever he hoped to be.
