[Part 18] Chapter 3b/9
anonymous
March 3 2012, 21:08:51 UTC
It took Ludwig another half an hour to trust his stomach enough to leave the bathroom. After a shower and break from Francis’ ever so helpful commentary, his opinion of the French nation had increased as well.
Mostly, he had reminded himself he could be married to a worse nation than France. Say, North Korea.
No, Ludwig’s opinion truly hadn’t increased much yet. In his defense it had to be said, it was rather hard to be charitable when you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of wurst anymore and your spouse’s most sympathetic response was, “thank God, the child has my good taste!” He was almost certain the resulting desire to strangle Francis had had nothing to do with mood swings and everything with Francis being Francis.
Although his head still ached, Ludwig made a beeline for his study. He frowned as he saw that the door was wide open and quickly checked his memory whether he had tidied his desk last night. His chancellor had given him one of her speeches on paper along with several reports on an USB stick. The files would be safe, but for some reason paper happened to be one of Berlitz’s favorite things to chew on.
He had been jotting down comments in the margins when Francis breezed in with the force of a hurricane, announcing grandiosely that he had threatened to go on strike if his president refused to okay a trip to Berlin. He had been disappointed when Ludwig refused to skirt his duties and, true to form, tried to persuade him in his favorite way. Berlitz-proofing the room had been the last thing on Ludwig’s mind then.
Ludwig’s pace increased with his alarm. He cursed under his breath as he stormed into the room, expecting to find Berlitz lying amidst a mass of soggy, torn papers.
He did find Berlitz in the room, stretched out in front of Ludwig’s desk with his head resting between his front paws. He looked up as he caught sight of Ludwig, wagged his tail twice and went right back to dozing.
However, there were no papers scattered around Berlitz. No, the papers had been stacked neatly at the edge of the desk to make room for Ludwig’s notebook and a steaming bowl of café au lait. Francis had thrown his suit jacket haphazardly over the back of the chair, loosened his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt. A few golden curls fell into his eyes as he sat there hunched over the screen and occasionally jotted down notes in his neat, curly handwriting. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth.
A fluttery feeling that had nothing to do with nausea seized Ludwig’s stomach. He had grown to tolerate Francis’ flamboyance and learned to treat his attitude with fond exasperation, but it was this serious side the other nations didn’t get to see that he had fallen in love with.
Francis looked up just long enough to wink at him. “Look who isn’t green in the face anymore!”
Ludwig walked up to Francis’ side and loitered there awkwardly with twitching hands. He wanted so badly to grab him and kiss that smug smirk off his face and he knew that he could, but… he couldn’t. Instead, he blushed and averted his eyes.
To distract himself, Ludwig glanced at the screen. He had been expecting to see French text, yet what he found was one of the strategy papers his chancellor had given him. Ludwig would have loved to claim surprise, but it would have been a lie. He felt his blood pressure rise anyway. “Francis! These files are confidential!”
As Francis looked up, his eyes were so vibrantly blue and guileless that it made the hairs at the back of Ludwig’s neck stand on end. “But you shout at me if I’m ill-prepared and shouting isn’t good for the baby!”
[Part 18] Chapter 3c/9
anonymous
March 3 2012, 21:09:42 UTC
Ludwig scowled, he had the feeling he had missed half the conversation. He got that feeling a lot with Francis - with Feliciano as well, but Francis did it on purpose. The man took his hobbies seriously and manipulation happened to be one of them. “Don’t play games with me, France!”
Francis leant back in Ludwig’s chair and stretched himself lazily. His only reaction to being addressed by his nation name was a faint narrowing of his eyes. That was enough to tip Ludwig off that Francis was most certainly still playing. “I’m preparing for your appointment!” he said brightly. He watched Ludwig’s face turn purple for a moment longer, then Francis pursed his lips and added, “The state visit includes lunch and you react sensitive to the oddest smells, remember? Unless you think your chancellor would appreciate vomit on her trouser suit…?” He lifted his eyebrows mockingly.
Ludwig sighed irritably and rubbed his eyes. They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “Gilbert put you up to this, didn’t he?” It would be just like him to find new and creative methods to make Ludwig’s life hell when Francis was too overprotective to let him get away with doing it the old-fashioned way.
“Don’t be silly! I’m following my boss’ advice!”
Ludwig froze. Francis wouldn’t have gone to his boss unless he truly intended to help, clumsy though he was about showing it. That had the potential to be more destructive than any prank Gilbert could have come up with. Genuine attempts at helpfulness usually were. That was another lesson Feliciano had taught him.
“Gilbert and I will take your place at the state visit, between my charm and Gilbert’s position we will be able to soothe all ruffled feathers,” Francis explained with a bright smile.
“That is unacceptable!” Ludwig replied and set his jaw stubbornly. “I promised my chancellor to be the prime minister’s escort and I won’t skirt my duties. I’m going to be perfectly fine!” He cringed slightly under Francis’ scathing look. “I’ll excuse myself from the meals.”
“I’ll make sure Gilbert doesn’t let Gilbird poop on any foreign dignitaries’ heads.” Ludwig continued to look unimpressed, so Francis heaved a long-suffering sigh and raised his hands in surrender. “Fine! I promise to remain fully dressed!”
Ludwig remained unconvinced. In fact, he was turning purple again.
Francis pouted and looked for a moment like he was about give up, but then a cunning gleam appeared in his eyes. He leant forward and grabbed Ludwig’s hands. He tugged and prodded until Ludwig relented and sat down on the armrest, though he refused to sit on his lap. That would just lead to distractions they could ill afford. “Think of all the work you can get done without Gilbert and me bothering you,” he cooed. “Peace and quiet and no disturbances at all…”
Ludwig felt his resistance melt away. He loved Francis and was happy about his surprise visit. However, between Francis and Gilbert, it was impossible to get anything done. This was why he preferred to meet Francis in Paris. “Don’t you have an appointment at the French embassy?” he asked weakly.
Francis brushed his query off with a lazy wave. “The ambassador hates me anyway.” He huffed. “It was just a harmless flirt and no one told me she’s his wife!”
The corners of Ludwig’s mouth tugged upwards despite his best efforts to look stern and disapproving. It had been funny, though he would never admit as much. Francis needed no more encouragement to misbehave. “One would think you would know better by now. My poor chancellor still hasn’t forgiven you for your first meeting!”
Francis rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t naked; I wore a rose!”
Mostly, he had reminded himself he could be married to a worse nation than France. Say, North Korea.
No, Ludwig’s opinion truly hadn’t increased much yet. In his defense it had to be said, it was rather hard to be charitable when you couldn’t stand the smell of any kind of wurst anymore and your spouse’s most sympathetic response was, “thank God, the child has my good taste!” He was almost certain the resulting desire to strangle Francis had had nothing to do with mood swings and everything with Francis being Francis.
Although his head still ached, Ludwig made a beeline for his study. He frowned as he saw that the door was wide open and quickly checked his memory whether he had tidied his desk last night. His chancellor had given him one of her speeches on paper along with several reports on an USB stick. The files would be safe, but for some reason paper happened to be one of Berlitz’s favorite things to chew on.
He had been jotting down comments in the margins when Francis breezed in with the force of a hurricane, announcing grandiosely that he had threatened to go on strike if his president refused to okay a trip to Berlin. He had been disappointed when Ludwig refused to skirt his duties and, true to form, tried to persuade him in his favorite way. Berlitz-proofing the room had been the last thing on Ludwig’s mind then.
Ludwig’s pace increased with his alarm. He cursed under his breath as he stormed into the room, expecting to find Berlitz lying amidst a mass of soggy, torn papers.
He did find Berlitz in the room, stretched out in front of Ludwig’s desk with his head resting between his front paws. He looked up as he caught sight of Ludwig, wagged his tail twice and went right back to dozing.
However, there were no papers scattered around Berlitz. No, the papers had been stacked neatly at the edge of the desk to make room for Ludwig’s notebook and a steaming bowl of café au lait. Francis had thrown his suit jacket haphazardly over the back of the chair, loosened his tie and opened the top buttons of his shirt. A few golden curls fell into his eyes as he sat there hunched over the screen and occasionally jotted down notes in his neat, curly handwriting. His brows were furrowed in concentration, his bottom lip sucked into his mouth.
A fluttery feeling that had nothing to do with nausea seized Ludwig’s stomach. He had grown to tolerate Francis’ flamboyance and learned to treat his attitude with fond exasperation, but it was this serious side the other nations didn’t get to see that he had fallen in love with.
Francis looked up just long enough to wink at him. “Look who isn’t green in the face anymore!”
Ludwig walked up to Francis’ side and loitered there awkwardly with twitching hands. He wanted so badly to grab him and kiss that smug smirk off his face and he knew that he could, but… he couldn’t. Instead, he blushed and averted his eyes.
To distract himself, Ludwig glanced at the screen. He had been expecting to see French text, yet what he found was one of the strategy papers his chancellor had given him. Ludwig would have loved to claim surprise, but it would have been a lie. He felt his blood pressure rise anyway. “Francis! These files are confidential!”
As Francis looked up, his eyes were so vibrantly blue and guileless that it made the hairs at the back of Ludwig’s neck stand on end. “But you shout at me if I’m ill-prepared and shouting isn’t good for the baby!”
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Ludwig scowled, he had the feeling he had missed half the conversation. He got that feeling a lot with Francis - with Feliciano as well, but Francis did it on purpose. The man took his hobbies seriously and manipulation happened to be one of them. “Don’t play games with me, France!”
Francis leant back in Ludwig’s chair and stretched himself lazily. His only reaction to being addressed by his nation name was a faint narrowing of his eyes. That was enough to tip Ludwig off that Francis was most certainly still playing. “I’m preparing for your appointment!” he said brightly. He watched Ludwig’s face turn purple for a moment longer, then Francis pursed his lips and added, “The state visit includes lunch and you react sensitive to the oddest smells, remember? Unless you think your chancellor would appreciate vomit on her trouser suit…?” He lifted his eyebrows mockingly.
Ludwig sighed irritably and rubbed his eyes. They hadn’t gotten much sleep last night. “Gilbert put you up to this, didn’t he?” It would be just like him to find new and creative methods to make Ludwig’s life hell when Francis was too overprotective to let him get away with doing it the old-fashioned way.
“Don’t be silly! I’m following my boss’ advice!”
Ludwig froze. Francis wouldn’t have gone to his boss unless he truly intended to help, clumsy though he was about showing it. That had the potential to be more destructive than any prank Gilbert could have come up with. Genuine attempts at helpfulness usually were. That was another lesson Feliciano had taught him.
“Gilbert and I will take your place at the state visit, between my charm and Gilbert’s position we will be able to soothe all ruffled feathers,” Francis explained with a bright smile.
“That is unacceptable!” Ludwig replied and set his jaw stubbornly. “I promised my chancellor to be the prime minister’s escort and I won’t skirt my duties. I’m going to be perfectly fine!” He cringed slightly under Francis’ scathing look. “I’ll excuse myself from the meals.”
“I’ll make sure Gilbert doesn’t let Gilbird poop on any foreign dignitaries’ heads.” Ludwig continued to look unimpressed, so Francis heaved a long-suffering sigh and raised his hands in surrender. “Fine! I promise to remain fully dressed!”
Ludwig remained unconvinced. In fact, he was turning purple again.
Francis pouted and looked for a moment like he was about give up, but then a cunning gleam appeared in his eyes. He leant forward and grabbed Ludwig’s hands. He tugged and prodded until Ludwig relented and sat down on the armrest, though he refused to sit on his lap. That would just lead to distractions they could ill afford. “Think of all the work you can get done without Gilbert and me bothering you,” he cooed. “Peace and quiet and no disturbances at all…”
Ludwig felt his resistance melt away. He loved Francis and was happy about his surprise visit. However, between Francis and Gilbert, it was impossible to get anything done. This was why he preferred to meet Francis in Paris. “Don’t you have an appointment at the French embassy?” he asked weakly.
Francis brushed his query off with a lazy wave. “The ambassador hates me anyway.” He huffed. “It was just a harmless flirt and no one told me she’s his wife!”
The corners of Ludwig’s mouth tugged upwards despite his best efforts to look stern and disapproving. It had been funny, though he would never admit as much. Francis needed no more encouragement to misbehave. “One would think you would know better by now. My poor chancellor still hasn’t forgiven you for your first meeting!”
Francis rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t naked; I wore a rose!”
to be continued...
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