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Ludwig leans his elbows onto the window ledge, peering outside. It's raining onto the pane, streaking the dust covering it and smudging the outside world. Today there won't be any visitors, he thinks. Not that he would see them besides through this window, if there were any.
Gilbert says he isn't healthy enough yet, though Ludwig doesn't feel too bad most of the time. Sometimes his head still hurts, but it's getting less common, and he doesn't always get dizzy when walking either.
Nowadays Gilbert even lets him go outside every now and then, though only to the inner yard. Even the doctors that come to see Ludwig say he's healing very well, but Gilbert just shakes his head. Not yet, he says.
One day it occurred to Ludwig he was being hidden. He asked Gilbert, who smiled in his usual brash way and told him to just worry about healing right.
And that was all he would say about it.
Ludwig starts feeling a bit tired again, so he walks to the sofa, curling up on its seat. He falls asleep listening to the rain hitting the window.
*
He's standing in a field, the scent of flowers almost too sweet all around him, sun pleasantly warm. Someone is laughing, a chiming, cheerful sound, but when the boy turns to look, the sound stops, and the other starts to run away.
All his eyes catch is a glimpse of white cloth, and no matter how fast the boy runs, he can't catch the other. His breath gets short soon, and the air turns heavy and too hot.
’Wait!’ he wants to call out, but can't get the words out past the knot in his chest.
And when he finally can breathe again and looks around, the flowers have disappeared. The air smells of burnt wood and worse things. Somewhere beyond the empty landscape a single column of smoke curls lazily towards the sky.
The sky above is steel grey, as if just before dawn. Somehow that sight wakes a nameless dread in him. A sudden gust of wind comes from somewhere, icy cold and whispering '--morgen kommt der Oxenstern...'
'--er wird den Kindern beten lehr'n.' the boy wants to run again, but he can't, his legs feeling leaden.
A star is rising on the sky, something dark and hulking forming behind it. The single light burns brightly against the gloomy figure, glinting between two horns. Its face is still indistinguishable, but it's wearing a blue uniform, with a sickly yellow sash crossing its chest.
And he still can’t run away, as if rooted to the ground.
'Ludwig! Wake up!'
It's a commanding voice, and he obeys gladly, sitting up fast. So fast he manages to hit his head to Gilbert's jaw, in fact.
After his brother has finished working his jaw and cursing, he takes a long look at Ludwig, who is holding his equally aching head.
"You okay there, brat?" He asks, with a barest note of worry.
Ludwig nods, carefully, and Gilbert smiles.
"Guess you have a hard head. Certainly enough proof of that already...but that's no reason to try to crack it open again, that was enough of a hassle the first time, you hear me?"
Ludwig nods again. Gilbert isn't really paying attention to him anyway, pacing back and forth restlessly and muttering something about doctor's bills and how he could have broken his jaw and what that would have done to his awesome profile.
Ludwig curls his knees against his chest and hides his smile in them. Just when he thinks Gilbert has forgotten him entirely, those red eyes snap back at him.
"Oy, stand up. Did you grow taller again?" Gilbert asks with narrowed eyes, when Ludwig does as told.
"Dunno." Ludwig mumbles, hunching his shoulders self-consciously.
"Stand straight. Hmph, I think you have...whatever, it's good. About time." Gilbert finishes, flashing a quick smile at Ludwig.
*
"Gilbert?"
Gilbert has been writing a letter, snickering occasionally, but now he looks up from it lazily.
"Yes, what now?"
"You told me that story, of the Swede?" Ludwig asks uncertainly.
"Yes, good old Oxenstierna." Gilbert answers absentmindedly, still looking at his letter and scratching his head.
"Is he....does he really exist?"
Ludwig squirms as Gilbert stares at him, thinking it might have been a stupid question.
"I mean, you said Blautsaugers don't really exist either." Ludwig pointed out defensively.
Gilbert laughs at him anyway, though not too mockingly.
"Nope, that guy's as real as you and me." He says finally.
At Ludwig's expression he stops laughing and shakes his head.
"But he's not that scary anymore...not that I was ever scared of him, but you know what I mean. The guy's lost his edge." Gilbert shakes his head, as if mourning such laxness.
Ludwig lets his gaze stray to the window again. The sky is still grey, but it's not raining anymore. It looks very wide.
"You scared?" Gilbert asks, offhandedly, but his eyes are once again weighing Ludwig, as if looking for weaknesses.
He straightens up, squaring his shoulder.
"No." Ludwig answers, and Gilbert smiles.
"Good."
*