A Game of Chess

Chapter 5: Reminiscence

He turned his head towards the German in a bit of disbelief and annoyance for being interrupted. Ludwig only glared back with a stoic expression, waiting for a response. After a passing moment, Alfred simply let out a 'No', letting Ludwig finally leave the room to prepare his ingredients.

As soon as the door shut, the American sighed in relief, thankful to being alone instead of constantly having to be stuck with him all the time. It was exhausting trying to act jubile in front of the unemotional stone wall of a guy who didn't even look like he cared. But he needed to keep up his reputation, even around mute stone walls. It made him feel.. invisible like before he joined the war. But now he was in the spotlight and they were all watching, waiting to see what he would do next. It was strange to be ignored by such a powerful nation, especially when he was basically funding Western Europe after the destruction.

That steely look Ludwig always had during meetings, not to mention his eye patch never helped. Alfred was sure that his eye must have healed by now, and at least still be working but, nevertheless it was still covered. Ludwig was built like a killing machine, large muscles and was probably a very strong guy. That only added to his scary demeanor, people at meetings would avoid him like the plague. He didn't talk much at the G8 summits, and when he did, his voice was scratched and gruff. Of course, Ludwig still wore very formal outfits, slicked back hair, usually had on a black tie, dark green if he was feeling a bit flamboyant. Even when he picked Alfred up, he wore a complete suit. 'But I thought that maybe he'd drop the fancy shtick at his own house. Guess not.' It was actually a bit frightening to be alone with the German. With the Allies, he could crack a joke or two and they'd laugh. But with him? He wouldn't even crack his mouth open to talk. Nothing he did or said got any reaction out of him. Any good reactions at least.

'But I can't blame him.' he thought. Lifting a dark navy blue suitcase up onto the hard bed, he started to unzip it and remove the variant clothing he had packed from his closet back in the states and some gifted from Francis. Ludwig has been through a lot these past couple of years and it wasn't his fault that he wasn't in the chattering mood. Especially after the trial they attended nearly four years and a half ago.

He paused from taking out his neatly folded suits and looked out the window, staring into the distance, watching the dark blanket of the night replace the bleak gray sky. 'I think that was the last time he saw Gilbert right? Before Ivan took him.' As soon as the name popped into his mind he subconsciously gritted his teeth. They haven't talked in a long time especially after that big fight. 'Ivan. That dickbag was smiling as he escorted Gilbert away. There was so much yelling that day, particularly from Ludwig.'

He removed his jacket and roughly grabbed a pair of suspenders from the suitcase, the memory of that day still rolling in his mind like a cinema. On that day, Ludwig was completely silent in the court. There was blood leaking through his old bandages, his breaths sounded more like heaves, and not to mention his eye. Oh god his eye. A churning in the American's stomach made him well aware of how nauseous at the moment he was. There were swollen black circles around his right eye, and a thick bloody cut that ran right through it, obviously fresh. The wound was so shiny and unbearable to look at. The scabs that surrounded it had small individual cracks, allowing blood to run down his face, staining the tattered uniform he had on. Soviet soldiers surrounded him like barking dogs, constantly yelling at him to stand up, kicking him when he started to limp. He nearly collapsed into the chair at the courtroom, not bothering to listen to the judge. However when the judge ruled that East Germany was to be occupied by the Soviet country. It looked like his heart dropped to his stomach, his mouth agape. Despite his injuries, he struggled against the Russian soldiers, crying to Gilbert as Ivan dragged the ex-nation away. Obscenities were yelled, people were hurt, but in the end, Ludwig was too weak to reach him. Alfred was only a spectator in this. He had to help hold back the German along with three other men to stop him from tearing the Russian apart. This was when he and him were still together. And only now he realized that man was an absolute psychopath.