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Auch ich in Arkadien

Summary:

Germany and North Italy stare at the painting of a certain man who visited a certain place. Even he managed to get to paradise, but where is paradise located? Can someone dig through their lost memories to find it?

Notes:

Ok, I was planning to do one fic for the week, but I've had this very specific idea for a long time and I'm just like... If not now, when? So here it is, I made it in one night. (⌒_⌒;) I am so sorry for the future me who still has a lot more to update. And I know this is kinda cheating? Because the prompt is Architecture but teeeechnically this is about a painting? I am so sorry.

So, Italian Journey is a book by German author Goethe who travelled to Italy for two years, really good read, would recommend. The thing is, there is a painting called "Goethe in the Roman Campagna" by a Neoclassical German painter (we all know how much Germans liked the classicals, they were total nerds) and I really, really like it because he looks so relaxed and silly and aaahhh! He's just chilling there in Italy and I wish that was me, even in one of my other works, Midsummer (which I am currently working on updating), I also wrote about this specific thing... Since Goethe is surrounded by roman ruins I guess it counts for the prompt...? And I even used the quote! It counts, I swear,, (ノД`)

Anyways, I am sorry, it might happen again.

Day 5 of Gerita Week 2024: Architecture | “Is this bringing up memories too?”

For more insight into what pushed me to do this besides the "I like Goethe's vibe in this painting" feel free to read the end notes! ♡

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

It was unusually noisy and crowded for the day and hour, so Italy had to hold Germany's hand to not get lost. He didn't really complain since he liked holding hands, but if even he was getting overwhelmed, he was really worried about the German since he knew he was more on the introverted side.

 

"Ludwig!" He called out his human name, apologizing in a low voice to whoever he collided with as they tried to make their way through the waves of people visiting the museum.

"I'm sorry, we'll get there soon," Germany muttered under his breath, though he was sure his partner couldn't hear him. He held his hand tight, fearing he might slip and get lost, and between the murmurs of the people around them and his own beating heart he had to make a conscious effort to not get too overwhelmed.

 

This wasn't the holiday he had planned!

 

After what felt like hours, they finally reached an emptier spot of the museum. Less people were congregated there, and despite his desire to be close to his lover, Italy gave Germany some space so he could breathe. He also needed a moment to compose himself.

 

To be honest, Italy was still a bit confused. That morning Germany had asked him to accompany him somewhere. Of course Italy said yes, happy that he was invited out, but even after asking where they would go Germany couldn't give him a proper answer. This was really fun to Italy, who felt like they were youngster running away to have a date or something like that, so he didn't question it until he saw how packed the museum was and, knowing how badly Germany dealt with crowds, he began to grow worried.

 

"... I guess your people really like art!" Italy said with a smile, but when he realized they were still holding hands he felt a bit shy especially because Germany didn't seem to notice.

"We do." He nodded, looking around until his eye finally caught what they were supposed to find there.

 

They really liked it, art was something Italy really liked too and museums were comfortable for him... And hot! This place was so hot, too hot for Germany's home! Was it because there was a lot of people inside? Whatever it was, the sweat was annoying to deal with and he feared his hand would be so sticky it would gross Germany out, but the blond didn't seem to care.

 

He had his eyes fixated on something else. A painting. Looking up, Italy's gaze fell onto a full-length portrait of a man resting on top of something, probably a block of granite; it was a beautiful and massive oil painting. As someone who loved to paint, it was the careful brushstrokes that caught his attention. Whoever painted this held the model in high regard and... Were those roman ruins? And the background he easily recognized as the campagna romana, a place of his home.

 

"Goethe in the Roman Campagna." The brunet read the label under the painting out loud, tilting his head. "Goethe? The writer from your place? He visited Italy?"

 

Germany nodded faintly, eyes still piercing through the work of art.

 

"Yes, he did. For two years. He recounted his experiences in his diary and then they were published in a book called Italian Journey."

 

So that cool person visited his home, that made him happy. German visitors were so common he didn't see anything really strange about it, but as he kept reading the label, Italy grip on Germany's hand tightened as his own heart did the same, feeling like it was being squeezed. "Italian Journey is Johann Wolfgang von Goethe's report on his travels to Italy from 1786 to 1788."

 

"Ve... You didn't know him in life, did you?"

"No, he died far before I was born," Germany said with a strangely nostalgic expression that paralyzed Italy for a second. "But for some reason, I feel as if I did met him somehow... It's illogical, I guess it's because I am a country and he is an important German icon. Perhaps that makes us feel some sort of connection to these great people that contributed something to the world."

 

Ah, no, that wasn't it, North Italy knew. He knew of a young blonde boy with black clothes who might've met the man of the painting.

 

"Whenever I came across anything about him, Goethe, it felt strangely nostalgic to me. I have to say, I really can understand the fascination he had with the roman ruins. The architecture and art your late grandfather left to us is simply stunning... but it wasn't until I read the work this painting is based on that the sentiment grew heavier. Sometimes my head begins to hurt as well, I still don't know why."

 

He knew, he knew, but he kept silent. There was no use in telling him anything, that would only trouble Germany, and if Prussia didn't feel the need to say it, Italy had no right to do so. He didn't want to, either; they were fine the way they were, he loved Germany as he was right now. Pushing someone else in his place... Wasn't right, but, ahh, this was so hard for him. For both of them. He could see Germany frowning in a subtle pain like he was forcing himself. Was this bringing up memories too? Are these memories his own? Is he still somewhere out there, hidden beneath all the locks you made to protect yourself? Is he already one with your new being?

 

No, that wasn't fair, not for Germany and not for him.

He was gone, someone else was born in his stead, Italy had to treat them accordingly, but... But... Those roman ruins he had seen at their prime and how attached Germany seemed to the classic beauty of it... Could it be...?

 

"We hadn't met at this point, you and me, but I was truly enchanted by the words written by him, Goethe. They resonated with me, since, well..." He paused, cheeks turning slightly red. He didn't seem to be in pain anymore, instead after finally letting go of his hand, Germany set aside some wild brown locks of hair from Italy's face to look at him properly. "I also fell in love with Italy."

 

For his own mental health, he never dwelled to deeply on the hows or the whys, but whenever such pertinent evidence of what was left of him was presented in front of Italy... How could he not think of Holy Rome again? It was so unfair to everyone involved, but... It couldn't be helped.

 

"I wanted to share this with you, uh, I should've found a better way of doing so, but... I hope you can understand, what I am trying to say is..." Looking away in embarrassment, he found himself unable to actually mutter those words to the Italy. Well, speaking of the country as a whole wasn't that difficult, it had undeniable beauty, but he always shied away whenever it involded the representation himself. However, once he noticed how quiet his partner was, he finally looked at him. "Feliciano, was is it? Do you feel sick?"

 

Germany's worried voice made Italy snap back into reality and before he knew it, his eyes were glassy and his lower lip trembled. After a minute, he ended up pressing his lips together in a pout.

 

"I just... Geez, I never expected this sort of confession, I got so nervous! I thought my heart was going to explode."

"Ah, sorry, I..."

"It's alright! I understand what you're trying to say, I... Understand you." Italy let out a chuckle, finally closing the distance between the two to lovingly hug Germany's left arm. "You can be really romantic sometimes, it's so sweet! I might fall for you all over again!"

 

The sudden closeness and Italy's words flustered Germany even more, but he didn't refuse the contact and instead welcomed it in spite of his now chaotic heart, but that wasn't anything new.

 

As for Italy, his mind was still a mess. Their existence as nations was still something really mysterious and they hadn't discovered everything about it, maybe they would never be, but he had one thing clear.

 

"Hey, Ludwig..."

"Yes?"

 

Pausing to finally look directly into Germany's blue, brighter eyes, North Italy had known this fact for a long time but he pronounced it anyways.

 

"Ti amo, Ludwig. Just you."

 

That might've seen very sudden to anyone, including Germany, but he nonetheless coughed softly to regain some composure and nodded shyly.

 

"Yes, I... Ich liebe dich auch."

 

Chuckling to himself, the brunet nodded to himself and, as always, found himself loving Ludwig even more.

 

"It's a really nice painting, isn't it? I want to read that book! It may be a good exercise for my self-esteem, you know! Ah, but the praises might get to me... It wouldn't be self-esteem, it would be ego! Waaahhh, what do I do, Ludwig? I don't want to be egocentric!"

"That's... You are crying over a problem that doesn't exist, Italy is a beautiful place, that's a fact. There's no ego in truth, I... Why are you so red? Do you have a fever?"

"... Ludwig, you never realize these things, do you..."

"What things?"

"Ve..."

Notes:

*"Auch ich in Arkadien" is the German translation of the phrase and motto of Italian Journey "Et in Arcadia ego", but the translation alters the meaning when the original is commonly associated with Death speaking it. In Goethe's work, it is read as "Even I managed to get to paradise" while the original suggests that Death is present even in paradise.

Here's the link to the painting, I really like it. (https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/a/a0/Johann_Heinrich_Wilhelm_Tischbein_-_Goethe_in_the_Roman_Campagna_-_Google_Art_Project.jpg) Currently it is located in the Städel, a German museum. (¯▿¯)

You see, I was fighting for my life trying to figure out the timeline because Goethe was born in 1749 in the Holy Roman Empire and lived through its dissolution in 1806, but after remembering Prussia read HRE the Grimm's Fairy Tales in canon I realized they were published 1812 while Goethe died in 1832. The German Unification (Germany's canon birth) was in 1871 so he would've been unable to meet Goethe in life, so my initial idea was scrapped, but then I got an even better one and well, this was born. I felt like that one dude from The Hangover with all the numbers around his head lol.

I am sorry but I'm a traditional and conservative GerIta stan where Holy Rome being Germany in some kind is law, so... Yeah. (this is a joke! ... mostly) Of course, I am of the type that believes it isn't such a simple matter of reincarnation or memory loss, but that's for another day. To me, they are the same person and at the same time different people. It's complicated and I doubt being able to put it in words, at this point I'm just babbling nonsense. (・_・ )ゝ

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