[Fanfic] The Abduction of Italy - Germany/Italy
Title: The Abduction of Italy
Pairing(s): Germany/Italy
Warning(s): male-on-male, some violence, human names
Character(s): Germany, Prussia, Japan
Summary: No one noticed a thing until they received a little piece of paper with a code scribbled on it. After the seriousness of the situation dawns on Germany, he tries to find a way to save his comrade who happens to be his lover as well...
- The Code -
To say that Japan was surprised by Germany’s expression would be an understatement of the century.
He remained mouse-quiet, almost unnaturally still, his main intention to keep observing Ludwig’s paling features. What caused that urgent-panicky, he dared say-look in his eyes was an enigma to him. That drastic change in behavior and posture was connected to the piece of paper Ludwig was holding in a tight grip between his gloved fingers, no doubt.
Prussia, sitting unperturbed on a side of his brother’s work-table, didn't take a notice of him, nor Ludwig for that matter, never stopping the continuous swing of his left leg. The heel of his calf-long, black boot occasionally connected with the wood with a dull thump, breaking the strained silence of the room. Scarlet eyes were fixed on a random point on the wall, somewhere behind Japan.
Kiku couldn't understand what the whole fuss was about. It was getting ridiculous.
He kept observing Ludwig, now calm, not uttering a word while he waited for the blond nation to speak first. To give some kind of an explanation. Anything would be good right now.
Germany must have noticed his stare after another minute of dead silence. He locked his blue eyes with Japan’s dark ones briefly, ignoring Prussia to his left, before the leather front of his peaked cap hid his gaze, the Reichsadler on the crown flashing with a dangerous glimmer under the bright lamp on Ludwig’s massive work-table. *
“Soldier?” The German spoke, his tone barely recognizable. At least for the young military mailman who stood still in front of Ludwig. Japan was absolutely certain that he was reeling with anger in this very moment-he was barely controlling his temper and the urge, overwhelming urge, to lash out at the mailman. Gilbert must have sensed his brother’s tone as well since he turned to have a look at him. A smirk, caught between sadistic and amused, was blossoming on pale features.
Japan perceived a movement beside him − the soon-to-be-punished man stretched his right arm out forward straight, with palm down, and fingers touching − a flawless Roman salute.
“Sir?” Japan heard his voice, curt, with something tentative in it. His attention quickly switched back to Ludwig as soon as the blond removed the leather crop from his belt-that piece of paper was laid aside on the mahogany-tapping the long rod against his gloved palm in a threatening and ominous gesture.
"Hände ausstrecken.” **
Japan’s breath caught in his throat, though nothing showed his emotion. Gilbert's smirk, if anything, grew only wider as he heard Ludwig's words. His tone.
“W... was?” The postman stuttered out in alarm. ***
“Tun Sie es!” Germany snarled, patience lost, grip on the leather handle increased to the point it flexed under his pressure.**** The poor man did as he was ordered, only to be lashed with a sharp whip as soon as he offered his limbs.
Japan stood, petrified, while Ludwig delivered another hit onto the man’s hands. Judging by the crack of thin leather cutting skin, it must have hurt. The Asian nation stayed put, hiding astonishment behind a mask-he has never witnessed this Ludwig before. The Ludwig who wore his heart on his sleeve, without keeping his feelings private.
That paper.
It was most likely that little piece of paper, forgotten on the table, which made his ally act so violent. The mailman next to him couldn't hold back, he released a muffled moan of pain as the final blow fell onto his shaking arms. Ludwig turned his back to all of them, discarded the whip onto the table, reaching to rub his chin in deep thought. Gilbert used the break to satisfy his curiosity and read the paper that has been in his brother's possession until few minutes ago.
“Next time do your duty and bring me the mail immediately. This was your first and last warning.” Ludwig addressed the mailman, his voice low but calmer than before. A sudden snap of his fingers, a sign for the soldier-mailman to leave, pulled Kiku out of a trance. Said man saluted one last time to all three nations and obeyed gladly, heading for the hospital-wing to have his bloody wrists bandaged.
“Germany-san-“
“I must leave.” Ludwig cut off before he got a chance to finish the question. The albino, that proud Prussian, muttered something to himself and laughed in the face of grave atmosphere. Japan recognized "useless", perhaps even "brat" in his indistinct speech, but ignored him in favor of watching Ludwig who circled the table, took a gun and hid it inside the inner pocket of his black uniform. He snatched his trench coat from the hanger.
Then he took a blank piece of paper from the table and scribbled something on it.
Before Kiku could be interrupted again, Ludwig handed him the message politely and made his way towards the door.
“Please have this message sent to the Allies in case something happens. We will keep in touch.” It was everything he said before ordering Gilbert to come with him. The Prussian threw the paper carelessly onto the table with a quick roll of his eyes at being commanded so, but slipped down the table to follow his younger brother, leaving Japan with a jocose wink.
Kiku stared at the closed door for few short moments, then lowered his gaze to read the message. A scoff marred his features when he finished, but he folded it into his pocket nonetheless. Ludwig apparently knew what he was doing. Japan trusted him.
He still didn’t understand anything. What changed the Germany he knew, what drove his actions? Didn’t they plan on discussing the new front developments? Truth to be told, they were still waiting for Italy to show up, but each one of them shrugged it off as they were sure he was somewhere within the borders of the headquarters.
Genuinely curious about that little piece of paper, Kiku drew nearer to solve the mystery and read its contents. The German brothers were kind enough to leave it there, free for him to take a look. The paper was scrambled, not entirely clean, but the words seemed to have been written not long ago. It was indeed a message. A coded message.
Hamburger wants to eat Pasta. North B. Be careful, Wurst.
Kiku wanted to slap the Mediterranean nation. He irresistibly wanted to slap him, not only for being abducted, but for writing this-a silly and obvious code that even the simplest foot soldier could decipher.
The Allies held him captive in their North base. And Germany was as naïve as to think that only he and Gilbert could rescue him alone.
An expression of scorn crept over his face. That much about Ludwig being a tactician.
Although…
He remembered the message given to him by Ludwig, the one hidden in his pocket. A tiny smile of understanding appeared on his lips. He had underestimated his ally. A strategist. And a damn good one too.
To Be Continued…
Explanations/Translations:
* “The Reichsadler (Empire's Eagle) was a historic eagle national insignia deriving from the heraldic Roman Aquila during various times of Germany's history, including the German Empire, the Weimar Republic and Nazi Germany.”
** ”Stretch your hands out.” (German)
*** “W-what?” (German)
**** “Do it!” (German)
Pairing(s): Germany/Italy
Warning(s): male-on-male, some violence, human names
Character(s): Germany, Prussia, Japan
Summary: No one noticed a thing until they received a little piece of paper with a code scribbled on it. After the seriousness of the situation dawns on Germany, he tries to find a way to save his comrade who happens to be his lover as well...
- The Code -
To say that Japan was surprised by Germany’s expression would be an understatement of the century.
He remained mouse-quiet, almost unnaturally still, his main intention to keep observing Ludwig’s paling features. What caused that urgent-panicky, he dared say-look in his eyes was an enigma to him. That drastic change in behavior and posture was connected to the piece of paper Ludwig was holding in a tight grip between his gloved fingers, no doubt.
Prussia, sitting unperturbed on a side of his brother’s work-table, didn't take a notice of him, nor Ludwig for that matter, never stopping the continuous swing of his left leg. The heel of his calf-long, black boot occasionally connected with the wood with a dull thump, breaking the strained silence of the room. Scarlet eyes were fixed on a random point on the wall, somewhere behind Japan.
Kiku couldn't understand what the whole fuss was about. It was getting ridiculous.
He kept observing Ludwig, now calm, not uttering a word while he waited for the blond nation to speak first. To give some kind of an explanation. Anything would be good right now.
Germany must have noticed his stare after another minute of dead silence. He locked his blue eyes with Japan’s dark ones briefly, ignoring Prussia to his left, before the leather front of his peaked cap hid his gaze, the Reichsadler on the crown flashing with a dangerous glimmer under the bright lamp on Ludwig’s massive work-table. *
“Soldier?” The German spoke, his tone barely recognizable. At least for the young military mailman who stood still in front of Ludwig. Japan was absolutely certain that he was reeling with anger in this very moment-he was barely controlling his temper and the urge, overwhelming urge, to lash out at the mailman. Gilbert must have sensed his brother’s tone as well since he turned to have a look at him. A smirk, caught between sadistic and amused, was blossoming on pale features.
Japan perceived a movement beside him − the soon-to-be-punished man stretched his right arm out forward straight, with palm down, and fingers touching − a flawless Roman salute.
“Sir?” Japan heard his voice, curt, with something tentative in it. His attention quickly switched back to Ludwig as soon as the blond removed the leather crop from his belt-that piece of paper was laid aside on the mahogany-tapping the long rod against his gloved palm in a threatening and ominous gesture.
"Hände ausstrecken.” **
Japan’s breath caught in his throat, though nothing showed his emotion. Gilbert's smirk, if anything, grew only wider as he heard Ludwig's words. His tone.
“W... was?” The postman stuttered out in alarm. ***
“Tun Sie es!” Germany snarled, patience lost, grip on the leather handle increased to the point it flexed under his pressure.**** The poor man did as he was ordered, only to be lashed with a sharp whip as soon as he offered his limbs.
Japan stood, petrified, while Ludwig delivered another hit onto the man’s hands. Judging by the crack of thin leather cutting skin, it must have hurt. The Asian nation stayed put, hiding astonishment behind a mask-he has never witnessed this Ludwig before. The Ludwig who wore his heart on his sleeve, without keeping his feelings private.
That paper.
It was most likely that little piece of paper, forgotten on the table, which made his ally act so violent. The mailman next to him couldn't hold back, he released a muffled moan of pain as the final blow fell onto his shaking arms. Ludwig turned his back to all of them, discarded the whip onto the table, reaching to rub his chin in deep thought. Gilbert used the break to satisfy his curiosity and read the paper that has been in his brother's possession until few minutes ago.
“Next time do your duty and bring me the mail immediately. This was your first and last warning.” Ludwig addressed the mailman, his voice low but calmer than before. A sudden snap of his fingers, a sign for the soldier-mailman to leave, pulled Kiku out of a trance. Said man saluted one last time to all three nations and obeyed gladly, heading for the hospital-wing to have his bloody wrists bandaged.
“Germany-san-“
“I must leave.” Ludwig cut off before he got a chance to finish the question. The albino, that proud Prussian, muttered something to himself and laughed in the face of grave atmosphere. Japan recognized "useless", perhaps even "brat" in his indistinct speech, but ignored him in favor of watching Ludwig who circled the table, took a gun and hid it inside the inner pocket of his black uniform. He snatched his trench coat from the hanger.
Then he took a blank piece of paper from the table and scribbled something on it.
Before Kiku could be interrupted again, Ludwig handed him the message politely and made his way towards the door.
“Please have this message sent to the Allies in case something happens. We will keep in touch.” It was everything he said before ordering Gilbert to come with him. The Prussian threw the paper carelessly onto the table with a quick roll of his eyes at being commanded so, but slipped down the table to follow his younger brother, leaving Japan with a jocose wink.
Kiku stared at the closed door for few short moments, then lowered his gaze to read the message. A scoff marred his features when he finished, but he folded it into his pocket nonetheless. Ludwig apparently knew what he was doing. Japan trusted him.
He still didn’t understand anything. What changed the Germany he knew, what drove his actions? Didn’t they plan on discussing the new front developments? Truth to be told, they were still waiting for Italy to show up, but each one of them shrugged it off as they were sure he was somewhere within the borders of the headquarters.
Genuinely curious about that little piece of paper, Kiku drew nearer to solve the mystery and read its contents. The German brothers were kind enough to leave it there, free for him to take a look. The paper was scrambled, not entirely clean, but the words seemed to have been written not long ago. It was indeed a message. A coded message.
Hamburger wants to eat Pasta. North B. Be careful, Wurst.
Kiku wanted to slap the Mediterranean nation. He irresistibly wanted to slap him, not only for being abducted, but for writing this-a silly and obvious code that even the simplest foot soldier could decipher.
The Allies held him captive in their North base. And Germany was as naïve as to think that only he and Gilbert could rescue him alone.
An expression of scorn crept over his face. That much about Ludwig being a tactician.
Although…
He remembered the message given to him by Ludwig, the one hidden in his pocket. A tiny smile of understanding appeared on his lips. He had underestimated his ally. A strategist. And a damn good one too.
To Be Continued…
Explanations/Translations:
* “The Reichsadler (Empire's Eagle) was a historic eagle national insignia deriving from the heraldic Roman Aquila during various times of Germany's history, including the German Empire, the Weimar Republic and Nazi Germany.”
** ”Stretch your hands out.” (German)
*** “W-what?” (German)
**** “Do it!” (German)