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Hours after the battle of Zusmarshausen
May 17th 1648

Prussia forced himself to keep his breathing even, but even then he couldn't do anything to control the shake of his hands. The sight of the battlefield which usually filled him with such excitement, such exhilaration now occupied his every nerve with disgust and hate. The sight of the blood, the bodies... God. Why did they do this? What did it achieve but death?

His eyes followed the sight of his soldiers picking their way through the carnage. The air was still thick with smoke from the guns and their figures swam in and out of focus through the haze. The enemy was gone. He had only just heard of the battle and he had hurried to gather a small band of men. Enough to help but not enough for his country to be involved.

But he was too late.

"Sir?" A quiet voice behind him made him turn. As soon as he saw the soldiers expression he knew. An icy feeling shot through him right through to his core. It was an odd feeling; one he was not used to. It took him a moment to realise it was fear.

"Where?" His voice shook slightly as he faced him.

"This way." The man lead him into the sea of the dead. He wanted to run but he held himself back, tapping his finger impatiently onto the hilt of his sword instead. A relic, he carried it around even though most of the military now used guns. It made him feel more safe; more in control. He needed that now.

He saw the group of people from a distance and the world seemed to suddenly constrict around him. He stopped dead. The man turned when he found that he was no longer following him.

"Are you okay, Sir?" The man's eyes were cautious as if speaking to someone sick, someone he didn't want to upset. Prussia tried a few times to say something but only managed small strangled noises. What was wrong with him? Damn it he should be strong, now of all times. Weakness was not an option. He should not look like a emotional fool in front of his men.

He took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, his resolve set after the minor tumble.

"Sorry," he said. "Please carry on."

They continued across the battlefield. The mud made the going slow but soon they had converged on a small group of people who had their eyes focused on a figure on the ground. Despite himself Prussia felt his heart go into his mouth.

The little broken figure at his feet seemed smaller in death than in life. His favoured hat had fallen near his feet, probably knocked off by the blow to the head that made the crimson blood seep from the wound on his temple. His blond hair was splayed across his face. Holy Rome lay crumpled in the mud like some common infantryman.

With a sickening jolt of horror Prussia noticed he was clutching a rosary in one limp hand. So much for God.

"Has a medic seen to him?" He found himself demanding. The soldiers around him looked confused, there was no way the boy was alive. Their ignorance made his blood boil. "Damn it! Find him a medic NOW!"

He surprised himself with the shout that escaped him. The soldiers looked into his reddish eyes in terror and one rushed off for what he asked for without a second glance. Prussia watched him go then looked sadly down at the boy, wishing he could sink to his knees beside him. He wanted nothing more than to pick him up and cradle him. He hid his hands in his cloak, their shaking too obvious to hide as the soldier hurried back with an older man in tow who seemed pretty annoyed he'd been called away from other patients to confirm another was dead.

Still, one look at Prussia and he sank to the ground and checked for signs of life. The nation bit his lip as he carried on tapping his sword.

Tap- tap- tap

The medic took one of Holy Rome's wrists and felt for a pulse, a permanent frown etched onto his old face. The rosary fell out the boys slack grip and into the mud.

Tap-tap- tap

The men were extraordinarily quiet as the doctor, looking confused, felt instead at his neck.

Tap-

"He's not dead." The man grumbled. Prussia froze all of his air leaving him for a second. He hadn't heard right, he couldn't be could he? The medic looked around when he got no reply, his eyes focusing on the nation with a steely gaze. "This boy is still alive."

"He can't be!" One solider protested. Prussia felt relief seep into him like a slow drug, it reached his heart last and he found himself letting out a breath. He was alive. Somehow he had survived even though his forces had fallen. It seemed impossible.

"I assure you he is." The doctor stood brushing mud off his breeches lightly. " He needs to be taken to the other medics if we want it stay that way."

"Take him," Prussia ordered to the nearest soldier. The man bent and easy cradled the boy into his arms, his small frame tiny in comparison to his huge armoured arms. The nation caught a brief image of his pale face before the man and the medic disappeared into the smoke haze. He stared after them his nerves tingling with shock.

He watched the point where they had vanished for a long time. When he came back to himself he was alone, the others had gone off to find more survivors. His eyes trailed eventually to the floor and spotted the rosary in the dirt; blood stained. Prussia picked it up, rubbing the tiny cross between his fingers before pocketing it and following the path of the retreating figures; wiping his cheeks as he walked.

July 1648

The light filtered through the windows lazily like blossom falling through the air. Prussia looked up from his book to watch the summer breeze lift the curtains edge slightly, the rooms only other occupant was undisturbed by the movement and lay as prone as before.

Holy Rome had not woken up in the past two months since the battle. His injuries had mostly healed in this time yet the doctors had been unsure what damage the blow to the head may have caused. Some people went dumb or blind. Some people never woke up.

But he was a nation, Prussia reminded himself again. A nation was immortal-

But he was no longer a nation. Movements in politics meant that the Holy Roman Empire was dissolved. New countries had formed. His failure in the battle that had wounded him and Spain's consequent downfalls meant they had lost. For the first time in Prussia's memory treaties were being signed without one nation's representative actually being there to have their say.

And he should have his say right? It was his life in the balance wasn't it? He didn't know what would happen if there was no longer a nation to represent. Would Holy Rome just fade away, or disappear like Germania and Roman Empire before him?

He pushed the scary thoughts out of his mind and tried to focus on his book, but his eyes didn't seem to want to take in the words on the page. He didn't look up as the door squeaked open and light footsteps approached.

"Prussia, I came to ask you when you would like to eat."

"Didn't realise you were the waiter now, Austria." He grinned devilishly at the bespectacled man in front of him who frowned. "I'll have you're most expensive wine please, white if you have it."

"You'll be eating in here again then today I take it?" Austria could always see past Prussia's façade. His tone was soft as his dark eyes looked down at him. "Maybe you should take a break-"

"I don't want him to wake up on his own." He objected with a simple finality that made the brunette before him shrug in defeat. They had had this conversation over and over and the outcome was always the same.

"As you wish." The other nation turned to the door in an attempt to leave but he stopped with his hand on the frame, looking back sadly into the room a second before leaving just as quietly as he came. Prussia did not turn as he left instead waiting for his footsteps to have totally disappeared before letting out a sigh.

Austria had been kind enough to let him hide Holy Rome in his house. No one but him knew he was hidden away in the one of the disused rooms usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. As much as he wanted, Prussia could not have taken him to his house as it would be getting too involved with the war. He had been very surprised to find the tall cultured man waiting for him outside the medical tent on that day two months ago. There he was, suddenly offering him an answer to his problem; a safe heaven. Of course he had been suspicious at first; why should he help him after all? But then it dawned on Prussia that just like him he cared what happened to Holy Rome. They were probably one of the few who did.

A flash of blue caught his attention. He was so unused to the colour in the white room that he didn't initially see it for what it truly was.

Holy Rome's eyes were fluttering. He was waking up.

Prussia was torn between shouting for help and staying but when the boy's eyes opened wider and fixed on him he had no option but to stay.

"Wha-wh're," he croaked and coughed weakly. He struggled to keep his eyes open and tried to focus on Prussia's face.

"It's okay, you're safe now." He assured him, taking his hand without a second thought. "You're in Austria's house."

The name seemed to make a connection somewhere in the blond's mind and his eyes became a little clearer and more focused.

"I'ly," he mumbled. Prussia wasn't quite sure what he was saying. His head must have been more damaged than he thought. He got worried.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" The boy didn't answer he just looked confused. A cold seed of horror sprouted in his stomach. "Do know who I am?"

It was a slight shake of the head but an perceptible one. Holy Rome shook his head as a negative and Prussia had to bite his lip to hold back a moan, the other nation didn't remember him. They were practically brothers; both of the same ancestor, a similar land mass. Despite his size Prussia saw Holy Rome as his older brother. Tears pricked his eyes but he held them back.

He decided to try one last question.

"Do you know who you are?" He gripped the hand tightly in his own. A brief look of panic swam across Holy Rome's features as the boy's mind visibly tried to capture the memory and failed. He shook his head more strongly this time and silently burst into tears.

This time Prussia couldn't help but cry too.

Three weeks later

Prussia sneaked easily along the path he had been using to get into Austria's house. It was the perfect hidden route, it had easy access to the stairs which lead to Holy Rome's room. No one had ever seen him enter or leave, not even the servants who wandered around. He'd had a few close calls on some occasions; almost walking into Hungary who had been hovering around the end of the corridor waiting for Austria to come back from seeing Holy Rome. She did not know about the boy hidden in the room, but she also was not blind. She saw no reason for him to be in that side of the house and was naturally curious. Austria had assured him that she wouldn't go down there and he believed him: everyone in the house listened to his orders and if he said an area was out of bound, it was out of bounds.

That day he found his way with little difficulty to the hallway at the private end of the house. The walls were white and the decorations minimal, Prussia wondered why on earth anyone would choose such a boring colour. If he had to pick it'd be red. Red everywhere. He liked red. And blue.

He was in a good mood that day and let his mind wander. Everything was going well, or at least as well as he expected. He entered the room second from the end and smiled to see Holy Rome sat up in bed.

"Knock knock," he grinned striding in. The boy looked in his direction and smiled softly, the light behind him making his hair shine a brilliant gold. He was the image of angelic and he made Prussia smile with undisguised relief. Far too long had he kept watch over his inert form, it was nice to see the kid finally sat up.

"Guten Tag, Prussia." Unfortunately the other nation had never remembered who he was but he had learnt the name of his most frequent visitor very easily. "How are you today?"

"I should be asking you that," the white haired man scoffed taking his usual seat by the side of the bed. "You're the one that got knocked on the head and slept for two months."

He laughed but Holy Rome did not answer, he merely smiled blandly and looked into his hands. His rosary was wrapped in his fingers yet there was a distance in his eyes as he looked at it that Prussia knew all too well. He still did not know who he was. Or at least who he had been. They had not told him everything in the fear that all that knowledge would swallow him up again. What would he do if he found out all that had happened? It was safer to tell him only in part who he was. No names, just facts.

Prussia had initially felt guilty withholding the information. His only indication that they were doing the right thing was when Holy Rome had been inconsolable for a long time after they told him about the war. The knowledge that he had lead so many to their deaths was a hard blow. Prussia was thankful that he had forgotten everything.

"What happens now?" The boy asked startling him out of his thoughts, his blue eyes still fixed on the beads in front of him as if he had read the other nations mind. Prussia stared in surprise, he had not expected this conversation today.

"What do you mean?"

"What happens to me now?" He looked up, a determined expression fixed onto his face. "Where do I go? What do I do?"

Prussia shrugged.

"I can't answer that kleinen Bruder," He had taken to calling Holy Rome his 'little brother' since he had woken up and the boy had taken it literally. He did not correct him. "What do you feel? You are a nation, you have a sense of national pull don't you? What does your heart tell you?"

For a while Prussia had not voiced an idea he had, not even to Austria. With Holy Rome in the mood he was in it was a perfect time to try it out.

The blond looked confused at the question. His eyebrows pulled together in a frown and he looked out of the big glass windows that showed the forest beyond the house. The smell of the trees and the grass in the heat of the summer sun called out across the void. A few moments past before he answered.

"I feel something is happening." His voice far away, his eyes distant. They were far older than his body seemed and very sad. "I don't remember what happened to me but I can sense something for the future. My people still live even if I do not know them. I have a lot to rediscover I believe, and a lot more to do."

He turned back to face him.

"I'm scared" he mumbled in a small voice, as though it was dirty or wrong.

Prussia smiled and took his hand. Weren't they all?

"I'll be with you all the way."

Description
Hours after the battle of Zusmarshausen
May 17th 1648

Prussia forced himself to keep his breathing even, but even then he couldn't do anything to control the shake of his hands. The sight of the battlefield which usually filled him with such excitement, such exhilaration now occupied his every nerve with disgust and hate. The sight of the blood, the bodies... God. Why did they do this? What did it achieve but death?

His eyes followed the sight of his soldiers picking their way through the carnage. The air was still thick with smoke from the guns and their figures swam in and out of focus through the haze. The enemy was gone. He had only just heard of the battle and he had hurried to gather a small band of men. Enough to help but not enough for his country to be involved.

But he was too late.

"Sir?" A quiet voice behind him made him turn. As soon as he saw the soldiers expression he knew. An icy feeling shot through him right through to his core. It was an odd feeling; one he was not used to. It took him a moment to realise it was fear.

"Where?" His voice shook slightly as he faced him.

"This way." The man lead him into the sea of the dead. He wanted to run but he held himself back, tapping his finger impatiently onto the hilt of his sword instead. A relic, he carried it around even though most of the military now used guns. It made him feel more safe; more in control. He needed that now.

He saw the group of people from a distance and the world seemed to suddenly constrict around him. He stopped dead. The man turned when he found that he was no longer following him.

"Are you okay, Sir?" The man's eyes were cautious as if speaking to someone sick, someone he didn't want to upset. Prussia tried a few times to say something but only managed small strangled noises. What was wrong with him? Damn it he should be strong, now of all times. Weakness was not an option. He should not look like a emotional fool in front of his men.

He took a deep breath and stared straight ahead, his resolve set after the minor tumble.

"Sorry," he said. "Please carry on."

They continued across the battlefield. The mud made the going slow but soon they had converged on a small group of people who had their eyes focused on a figure on the ground. Despite himself Prussia felt his heart go into his mouth.

The little broken figure at his feet seemed smaller in death than in life. His favoured hat had fallen near his feet, probably knocked off by the blow to the head that made the crimson blood seep from the wound on his temple. His blond hair was splayed across his face. Holy Rome lay crumpled in the mud like some common infantryman.

With a sickening jolt of horror Prussia noticed he was clutching a rosary in one limp hand. So much for God.

"Has a medic seen to him?" He found himself demanding. The soldiers around him looked confused, there was no way the boy was alive. Their ignorance made his blood boil. "Damn it! Find him a medic NOW!"

He surprised himself with the shout that escaped him. The soldiers looked into his reddish eyes in terror and one rushed off for what he asked for without a second glance. Prussia watched him go then looked sadly down at the boy, wishing he could sink to his knees beside him. He wanted nothing more than to pick him up and cradle him. He hid his hands in his cloak, their shaking too obvious to hide as the soldier hurried back with an older man in tow who seemed pretty annoyed he'd been called away from other patients to confirm another was dead.

Still, one look at Prussia and he sank to the ground and checked for signs of life. The nation bit his lip as he carried on tapping his sword.

Tap- tap- tap

The medic took one of Holy Rome's wrists and felt for a pulse, a permanent frown etched onto his old face. The rosary fell out the boys slack grip and into the mud.

Tap-tap- tap

The men were extraordinarily quiet as the doctor, looking confused, felt instead at his neck.

Tap-

"He's not dead." The man grumbled. Prussia froze all of his air leaving him for a second. He hadn't heard right, he couldn't be could he? The medic looked around when he got no reply, his eyes focusing on the nation with a steely gaze. "This boy is still alive."

"He can't be!" One solider protested. Prussia felt relief seep into him like a slow drug, it reached his heart last and he found himself letting out a breath. He was alive. Somehow he had survived even though his forces had fallen. It seemed impossible.

"I assure you he is." The doctor stood brushing mud off his breeches lightly. " He needs to be taken to the other medics if we want it stay that way."

"Take him," Prussia ordered to the nearest soldier. The man bent and easy cradled the boy into his arms, his small frame tiny in comparison to his huge armoured arms. The nation caught a brief image of his pale face before the man and the medic disappeared into the smoke haze. He stared after them his nerves tingling with shock.

He watched the point where they had vanished for a long time. When he came back to himself he was alone, the others had gone off to find more survivors. His eyes trailed eventually to the floor and spotted the rosary in the dirt; blood stained. Prussia picked it up, rubbing the tiny cross between his fingers before pocketing it and following the path of the retreating figures; wiping his cheeks as he walked.

July 1648

The light filtered through the windows lazily like blossom falling through the air. Prussia looked up from his book to watch the summer breeze lift the curtains edge slightly, the rooms only other occupant was undisturbed by the movement and lay as prone as before.

Holy Rome had not woken up in the past two months since the battle. His injuries had mostly healed in this time yet the doctors had been unsure what damage the blow to the head may have caused. Some people went dumb or blind. Some people never woke up.

But he was a nation, Prussia reminded himself again. A nation was immortal-

But he was no longer a nation. Movements in politics meant that the Holy Roman Empire was dissolved. New countries had formed. His failure in the battle that had wounded him and Spain's consequent downfalls meant they had lost. For the first time in Prussia's memory treaties were being signed without one nation's representative actually being there to have their say.

And he should have his say right? It was his life in the balance wasn't it? He didn't know what would happen if there was no longer a nation to represent. Would Holy Rome just fade away, or disappear like Germania and Roman Empire before him?

He pushed the scary thoughts out of his mind and tried to focus on his book, but his eyes didn't seem to want to take in the words on the page. He didn't look up as the door squeaked open and light footsteps approached.

"Prussia, I came to ask you when you would like to eat."

"Didn't realise you were the waiter now, Austria." He grinned devilishly at the bespectacled man in front of him who frowned. "I'll have you're most expensive wine please, white if you have it."

"You'll be eating in here again then today I take it?" Austria could always see past Prussia's façade. His tone was soft as his dark eyes looked down at him. "Maybe you should take a break-"

"I don't want him to wake up on his own." He objected with a simple finality that made the brunette before him shrug in defeat. They had had this conversation over and over and the outcome was always the same.

"As you wish." The other nation turned to the door in an attempt to leave but he stopped with his hand on the frame, looking back sadly into the room a second before leaving just as quietly as he came. Prussia did not turn as he left instead waiting for his footsteps to have totally disappeared before letting out a sigh.

Austria had been kind enough to let him hide Holy Rome in his house. No one but him knew he was hidden away in the one of the disused rooms usually reserved for visiting dignitaries. As much as he wanted, Prussia could not have taken him to his house as it would be getting too involved with the war. He had been very surprised to find the tall cultured man waiting for him outside the medical tent on that day two months ago. There he was, suddenly offering him an answer to his problem; a safe heaven. Of course he had been suspicious at first; why should he help him after all? But then it dawned on Prussia that just like him he cared what happened to Holy Rome. They were probably one of the few who did.

A flash of blue caught his attention. He was so unused to the colour in the white room that he didn't initially see it for what it truly was.

Holy Rome's eyes were fluttering. He was waking up.

Prussia was torn between shouting for help and staying but when the boy's eyes opened wider and fixed on him he had no option but to stay.

"Wha-wh're," he croaked and coughed weakly. He struggled to keep his eyes open and tried to focus on Prussia's face.

"It's okay, you're safe now." He assured him, taking his hand without a second thought. "You're in Austria's house."

The name seemed to make a connection somewhere in the blond's mind and his eyes became a little clearer and more focused.

"I'ly," he mumbled. Prussia wasn't quite sure what he was saying. His head must have been more damaged than he thought. He got worried.

"Do you remember what happened to you?" The boy didn't answer he just looked confused. A cold seed of horror sprouted in his stomach. "Do know who I am?"

It was a slight shake of the head but an perceptible one. Holy Rome shook his head as a negative and Prussia had to bite his lip to hold back a moan, the other nation didn't remember him. They were practically brothers; both of the same ancestor, a similar land mass. Despite his size Prussia saw Holy Rome as his older brother. Tears pricked his eyes but he held them back.

He decided to try one last question.

"Do you know who you are?" He gripped the hand tightly in his own. A brief look of panic swam across Holy Rome's features as the boy's mind visibly tried to capture the memory and failed. He shook his head more strongly this time and silently burst into tears.

This time Prussia couldn't help but cry too.

Three weeks later

Prussia sneaked easily along the path he had been using to get into Austria's house. It was the perfect hidden route, it had easy access to the stairs which lead to Holy Rome's room. No one had ever seen him enter or leave, not even the servants who wandered around. He'd had a few close calls on some occasions; almost walking into Hungary who had been hovering around the end of the corridor waiting for Austria to come back from seeing Holy Rome. She did not know about the boy hidden in the room, but she also was not blind. She saw no reason for him to be in that side of the house and was naturally curious. Austria had assured him that she wouldn't go down there and he believed him: everyone in the house listened to his orders and if he said an area was out of bound, it was out of bounds.

That day he found his way with little difficulty to the hallway at the private end of the house. The walls were white and the decorations minimal, Prussia wondered why on earth anyone would choose such a boring colour. If he had to pick it'd be red. Red everywhere. He liked red. And blue.

He was in a good mood that day and let his mind wander. Everything was going well, or at least as well as he expected. He entered the room second from the end and smiled to see Holy Rome sat up in bed.

"Knock knock," he grinned striding in. The boy looked in his direction and smiled softly, the light behind him making his hair shine a brilliant gold. He was the image of angelic and he made Prussia smile with undisguised relief. Far too long had he kept watch over his inert form, it was nice to see the kid finally sat up.

"Guten Tag, Prussia." Unfortunately the other nation had never remembered who he was but he had learnt the name of his most frequent visitor very easily. "How are you today?"

"I should be asking you that," the white haired man scoffed taking his usual seat by the side of the bed. "You're the one that got knocked on the head and slept for two months."

He laughed but Holy Rome did not answer, he merely smiled blandly and looked into his hands. His rosary was wrapped in his fingers yet there was a distance in his eyes as he looked at it that Prussia knew all too well. He still did not know who he was. Or at least who he had been. They had not told him everything in the fear that all that knowledge would swallow him up again. What would he do if he found out all that had happened? It was safer to tell him only in part who he was. No names, just facts.

Prussia had initially felt guilty withholding the information. His only indication that they were doing the right thing was when Holy Rome had been inconsolable for a long time after they told him about the war. The knowledge that he had lead so many to their deaths was a hard blow. Prussia was thankful that he had forgotten everything.

"What happens now?" The boy asked startling him out of his thoughts, his blue eyes still fixed on the beads in front of him as if he had read the other nations mind. Prussia stared in surprise, he had not expected this conversation today.

"What do you mean?"

"What happens to me now?" He looked up, a determined expression fixed onto his face. "Where do I go? What do I do?"

Prussia shrugged.

"I can't answer that kleinen Bruder," He had taken to calling Holy Rome his 'little brother' since he had woken up and the boy had taken it literally. He did not correct him. "What do you feel? You are a nation, you have a sense of national pull don't you? What does your heart tell you?"

For a while Prussia had not voiced an idea he had, not even to Austria. With Holy Rome in the mood he was in it was a perfect time to try it out.

The blond looked confused at the question. His eyebrows pulled together in a frown and he looked out of the big glass windows that showed the forest beyond the house. The smell of the trees and the grass in the heat of the summer sun called out across the void. A few moments past before he answered.

"I feel something is happening." His voice far away, his eyes distant. They were far older than his body seemed and very sad. "I don't remember what happened to me but I can sense something for the future. My people still live even if I do not know them. I have a lot to rediscover I believe, and a lot more to do."

He turned back to face him.

"I'm scared" he mumbled in a small voice, as though it was dirty or wrong.

Prussia smiled and took his hand. Weren't they all?

"I'll be with you all the way."