Ich will eure Phantasie

Chapter 2

The imperial train was a majestic sight to behold. Black and shiny, it billowed a plume of steam from its front engine and boasted the coat of arms on every door. Accompanied by his director of court-traintravels and his royal entourage, Austria-Hungary saw to every preparation for the Alpine tour and the Kaiserreich's arrival.

The empire had to leave Vienna by midnight if he was to arrive in Innsbruck in time to greet the dawn with Germany. His train-car was illuminated with electricity, allowing him to read a book part of the way. He soon fell asleep and only woke up as the train's shuddering alerted him that they were slowing down at some point.

He adjusted his crowned glasses on his face. Blinking slowly, Austria-Hungary gestured to a valet to bring him coffee and breakfast from the dining car. He rubbed his face and peered out through his train window, but his lights cast such a glare he couldn't see the dark wilderness, except for the distant pinpricks of towns and farmhouses.

The clatter of utensils announced the arrival of the breakfast cart. Austria-Hungary's guards stepped forward to investigate the food, and once they clarified it was not poisoned, they pivoted smartly onto their heels and set down several different sized plates in front of the dual monarchy. He grasped the cup of coffee before its saucer even touched the table, sipping it and grabbing a bread-roll immediately.

"I am famished," Austria-Hungary sighed, and he made a shooing gesture to his entourage. "Go on. Feed yourselves and do not stare at me." When the guards did not move with the others, Austria-Hungary smacked his foot on the floor. "You are not exempt. I do not need protection in this bird cage." He gestured all around the box and shut the compartment door pointedly. With that, he saw to his book over a breakfast of warm rolls, cold ham and sausages.

The train pulled into Innsbruck as the sky began to turn purple and blue behind them. The wall of mountains stood tall around the tracks, and in the valley below sprawled a beautiful jewel in Austria-Hungary's crown. As the train pulled through town, he smiled approvingly at the buildings of his crownland, where flags waved plentiful at his arrival, all of which were illuminated by electric streetlamps.

His entourage suggested he wait inside the train-car on the tracks until Germany's train appeared, but Austria-Hungary would hear nothing of it. Germany needed to be able to see him at the train station. One of his manservants opened the coat closet. Another used his hand to fan the selection while Austria-Hungary contemplated his choices. He chose the many-buttoned overcoat and allowed his men to drape it across his shoulders. He snuggled into the heavy wool, securing it like a cloak so that he was protected from the brisk mountain air.

Normally there would hardly be anyone on the platform at this hour, but his arrival had not been a secret and the final touches on the new train station had been in the newspapers. A small crowd gathered eagerly to glimpse him, remove their hats, and wave their banners. Austria-Hungary acknowledged his subjects with regal nods and straight-armed salutes of his palm upright. He soon turned away from them all to gaze upon the railroads. When he grew bored of staring, he paced along the railing until he finally heard the distant echo of the train whistle. A long, white tail of smoke wound its way around the mountain curves. The whistle howled again.

Austria-Hungary's eyes widened and he ran to the end of the station platform, thudding against the metal rail in his excitement. The huge engine came around the bend at a slow pace as its brakes screeched into the station. Black, white, and red flags adorned the doors. Austria-Hungary's eyes raced across the glass panels in search of him, and he followed the train until it came to a complete halt, releasing gushes of steam.

He clutched an ironcast column longingly, feeling very much like a sweetheart waiting for her soldier to come home from the war. Germany threw open the sliding metal door and stared down at him with those eagle eyes, not moving. His immensity filled the entire doorway. He bent his head to clear the opening and straightened, resembling a monolith in his wolverine fur-lined cloak. With each step, he exuded pure masculine ferocity. He wore a dark military uniform cinched above his waist with a belt, buttons and shoes polished to mirrors. The cloak clasped together with two golden chains, and the hem seemed frayed, but in actuality ended in several black feathers. Austria-Hungary could hear the gentle tinkle of his medals knocking together under his cloak. He did not hide his awe and attraction to the tall emperor standing before him. His patterned glasses concealed his wide eyes roving from Germany's slicked-back hair to his barred face: black, then a stripe of white, ending in a beautifully scarlet chin and throat.