And Then The Roses Drowned - 3.2/many
anonymous
April 4 2011, 18:48:33 UTC
“I don’t need anything from you,” Alfred said, taking a shaky step forward. (It was taking all his strength not to collapse to the floor with every passing moment.) “I’m fine, you need my strength, and I want to find Arthur-“
“You are grief struck and in denial,” Logan called from the other side of the room. Ludwig glanced over his shoulder in surprise. Alfred remained where he was. “You’re sick, you’re heartbroken, and you are grieving, lad. You are in no condition to do anything right now. You would just slow us down.”
“I am not in denial, you said it yourself, maybe you can find clues-“
“To where my brother’s body could be,” Logan finished. “If there is a body to find. Or perhaps, clues to what exactly happened here. Clues to why certain parts of southern England and Northern Ireland were hit the hardest when they were farthest apart. All houses in the area of Arthur’s are being picked apart for geological clues-mainly because they’re all totaled.” Logan stood up, walking across the room. “We are going there-we’re getting special permission from the U.N.-to find clues and retrieve official documents, and anything else of my brother’s we can find that is worth salvaging. There are important things in that house that cannot get out.”
“Do you even care?” Alfred asked, his voice hoarse yet steady. “You’re youngest brother is missing in a disaster and all you care about is what parliamentary shit is left in his house? You claim that I am in denial, and yet you act as if-“
“My brother and I are cut from the same mold,” Logan said, narrowing those brilliant (Arthur) green eyes at Alfred. “His country is of the utmost importance to him. I would want him to do the same for me if I were the one gone-to make sure my people remain as safe as possible.”
“You’re crazy,” Alfred said, although Ludwig wished he had shouted it. The level of hurt lacing his voice was digging into his heart. “You don’t give a shit about Arthur, and you never did-“
“Alfred,” Logan said, his voice cracking but remaining steady. “Please. Just stay in bed for a few more days. For the sanity of yourself and the rest of us.” Alfred was breathing heavily but he didn’t say any more. Ludwig watched as a single tear snaked down his cheek, not that Alfred noticed. He stumbled back and slammed the door to his room. Logan sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump, and he lowered himself to the floor in a heap. He buried his face in his hands and remained in that position for a few minutes, doing nothing but breathing heavily. Ludwig had no idea what to do. There were so many factors involved when a nation passed-what to do about their country, and all their government papers, and, of course, what their death means for their country. A nation does not die simply from physical injuries alone. Something else happened in the country of England for Arthur Kirkland to die.
It was a few moments later that Ludwig realized Logan’s breathing was shaky. Logan flopped onto his palms, his head still staring at the ground. He stretched his arms until they cracked and then he turned to the ceiling, carefully avoiding Ludwig’s gaze.
His eyes were filled with tears and they were rolling down his face like rain drops, consistently and surely. Ludwig was fairly certain he had never once seen Logan cry. It was unnerving.
The two men remained silent, the only sounds being the wind beating at the side of the building. Ludwig wasn’t sure if it was necessary to try and comfort Logan-he’d always been much closer to Arthur, and never knew what Logan was thinking. He was definitely the most stoic of his family.
“...we should have the ceremony on Friday,” Logan said finally. He closed his eyes.
“The ceremony?”
“Yes. I... I’d prefer not to lead it, but if no one else remembers-“
“You are grief struck and in denial,” Logan called from the other side of the room. Ludwig glanced over his shoulder in surprise. Alfred remained where he was. “You’re sick, you’re heartbroken, and you are grieving, lad. You are in no condition to do anything right now. You would just slow us down.”
“I am not in denial, you said it yourself, maybe you can find clues-“
“To where my brother’s body could be,” Logan finished. “If there is a body to find. Or perhaps, clues to what exactly happened here. Clues to why certain parts of southern England and Northern Ireland were hit the hardest when they were farthest apart. All houses in the area of Arthur’s are being picked apart for geological clues-mainly because they’re all totaled.” Logan stood up, walking across the room. “We are going there-we’re getting special permission from the U.N.-to find clues and retrieve official documents, and anything else of my brother’s we can find that is worth salvaging. There are important things in that house that cannot get out.”
“Do you even care?” Alfred asked, his voice hoarse yet steady. “You’re youngest brother is missing in a disaster and all you care about is what parliamentary shit is left in his house? You claim that I am in denial, and yet you act as if-“
“My brother and I are cut from the same mold,” Logan said, narrowing those brilliant (Arthur) green eyes at Alfred. “His country is of the utmost importance to him. I would want him to do the same for me if I were the one gone-to make sure my people remain as safe as possible.”
“You’re crazy,” Alfred said, although Ludwig wished he had shouted it. The level of hurt lacing his voice was digging into his heart. “You don’t give a shit about Arthur, and you never did-“
“Alfred,” Logan said, his voice cracking but remaining steady. “Please. Just stay in bed for a few more days. For the sanity of yourself and the rest of us.” Alfred was breathing heavily but he didn’t say any more. Ludwig watched as a single tear snaked down his cheek, not that Alfred noticed. He stumbled back and slammed the door to his room. Logan sighed, allowing his shoulders to slump, and he lowered himself to the floor in a heap. He buried his face in his hands and remained in that position for a few minutes, doing nothing but breathing heavily. Ludwig had no idea what to do. There were so many factors involved when a nation passed-what to do about their country, and all their government papers, and, of course, what their death means for their country. A nation does not die simply from physical injuries alone. Something else happened in the country of England for Arthur Kirkland to die.
It was a few moments later that Ludwig realized Logan’s breathing was shaky. Logan flopped onto his palms, his head still staring at the ground. He stretched his arms until they cracked and then he turned to the ceiling, carefully avoiding Ludwig’s gaze.
His eyes were filled with tears and they were rolling down his face like rain drops, consistently and surely. Ludwig was fairly certain he had never once seen Logan cry. It was unnerving.
The two men remained silent, the only sounds being the wind beating at the side of the building. Ludwig wasn’t sure if it was necessary to try and comfort Logan-he’d always been much closer to Arthur, and never knew what Logan was thinking. He was definitely the most stoic of his family.
“...we should have the ceremony on Friday,” Logan said finally. He closed his eyes.
“The ceremony?”
“Yes. I... I’d prefer not to lead it, but if no one else remembers-“
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