Stick With Me

The young boy ran through the palace, tears threatening to streak down his face, and dashed to the sanctuary of his room. He hated his father, he really and truly hated the man! Why did his father have to be so cruel? Why did his father have to hate him?

The moment the boy was in his room, he slammed the door shut and flopped down on his bed, allowing the stubborn tears to fall. Why him? Why did it have to be him that was subjected to all this abuse? He hated his father. Why was the man so close-minded? Why couldn't his father just love and accept him for who he was? It really wasn't like he was doing anything bad. What was so wrong about playing the flute?

Sighing, Fritz sat up and mopped the tears out of his eyes with the back of his hand, glaring at the tears distastefully. Princes' don't cry, and that's what he was; a prince. Prince Friedrich II of Prussia, son and heir to the king. A king who would probably be so disgusted with his son at the moment if he could see the tears that streaked the boy's face. What a wretched existence! If only he could find some peace…

Looking out his window, Fritz decided that it was a nice day, perhaps he would go for a walk in the garden. That usually cleared his head. He liked the gardens, as his mother did. When he was younger his mother would take him out there and read to him when she wasn't busy. It was nice, spending time with his mother. Sometimes he and his sister played, but not very often. Children of the king should not disgrace themselves by running about. That's what father said.

Scowling at the thought of the man that sired him, Fritz stood up and prompted left the palace in favor of the gardens. He brought along his flute as well, hoping to find a secluded place to play, somewhere where his father wouldn't be able to hear.

Once out in the sunshine, the boy felt better, though still a bit bitter. He walked about for half an hour or so, just to rid himself of the resent memories that had literally been beaten into him, before he sat down some ways away from the palace. Smiling at the wind in his face and the sun filtering in through the leaves, Fritz pulled out his flute and began to play a little tune that he had been learning.

Music was his safe haven. No matter how hard studies were, how cruel his father was, just being able to play the flute relaxed Fritz like nothing else. He could empty his mind, just sit and release any and all tensions. It was a wonderful feeling and always left him calmer than he had been before. And the flute was such a beautiful instrument…

"And what do we have here?" an ominous sort of voice spoke up.

Fritz visibly jumped, having not heard anyone coming over to him, and when he looked up, he wasn't at all calmed. Standing before him was the oddest man he had ever seen. The man was dressed in an impeccable military costume, his cap blowing in the slight breeze and a large hat sat on his head. There was a sword hanging at the man's hips and also a pistol.

But it wasn't the weapons or the uniform that unnerved Fritz though. No, he had seen many generals and military types in the palace before to not even blink at the seeing such an officer, but it was the fact that the man before him was deathly pale, his white skin nearly glowing against his uniform. There were pale locks poking out from under the feathered hat that he wore, and the boy could not tell if they were white or just extremely fair. The most strikingly terrifying feature, however, were the blood red eyes that pinned Fritz down, burning him in place, as though giving him a prelude of hell.

The thin lips pulled back into a vicious looking smile that seemed mixed with a sneer. "What's the matter, boy? Dumb?"

It took all of Fritz's courage to build himself up enough to be able to answer, but when he did, he made sure not to disappoint. "I am not," he sneered right back, hoping he looked intimidating as well. "Now silence yourself, peasant, and leave me. You have no place being in the prince's presence."

It was a bold statement, Fritz knew, and he also knew that his father would probably kill him should he find out that he had spoken to one of his generals—for that is certainly what the man looked like to the boy—in such a blatantly disrespectful manner, but at the moment, Fritz didn't give a damn about his father. No, he was actually worried that this bizarre looking man would kill him before his father ever got the chance.

Instead of yelling or hitting him, however, the red-eyed man threw back his head and began laughing. It was not a pleasant sound, by any means, sounding more like hissing as it grated against the ears, but Fritz supposed that that was better than having the man yell. He really didn't know what he would have done had the general gotten angry.

After a moment, the man settled and stared back down at the boy in front of him. "So you're the prince, eh?"

Shifting a bit uncomfortably, hoping desperately that the man didn't notice, Fritz nodded. "I am. Now, I believe I gave you an order. Leave me be."

Another wicked smiled spread across the eerily pale face, making Fritz's skin crawl. "You don't control me," his voice dropped down low. "Only the king may order me."

"Well, I'm the prince," the boy said again, really becoming desperate to get out of this terrifying man's presence, though unwilling to leave because he had been there first. "And as your prince, I will one day be your king, and as such, you will have to listen to me. Now, as your future king, I command you to leave immediately."

"You think you'll be king, do you, boy?" the albino smirked, making Fritz pale.

"Y-Yes, I will be king," he replied smartly. "I am the heir."

"That doesn't mean anything," the man's disheartening smile did not disappear. "You could still die before adulthood."

"What?" Fritz shrieked. "A-are you threatening me?"

The older Prussian continued to smile, but he shrugged one shoulder, his manner nonchalant. "Of course not. I'm just saying I've seen it before. There's still plenty of time for you to die before you ever assume the thrown."

"Y-you will leave. Now!" Fritz stood up, trying hard to glare up at the strange man. "I have no desire to sit here and listen to you make threats."

Instead of going, the albino crossed his arms defiantly, leaning his shoulder on the nearby tree, continuing his infuriating grin. "You can't order me around, kid," the other said again. "No one orders me except the king."

"But I'm the prince!"

"I listen to the king."

The two stood staring at each other for a long moment before Fritz had to look away. This man, this general, was cruel, not like father, but the way those red eyes twinkled cynically made the boy feel sick. It was like a demon was watching him, waiting for him to fall into hell. It was a different type of evil that Fritz didn't know how to deal with.

"Fine," the boy muttered once before he stooped down to pick up his flute. He didn't want to stay here anymore. He didn't want to have to see this man anymore. He was arrogant and horribly daunting. He knew that it was shameful to make a retreat such as this, but Fritz just could not look into those red eyes that seemed to look right through him.

As he turned to leave, however, the man plucked the little flute right out of Fritz's hands. "Hey!" the boy yelped. "Give that back!"

"This is yours?" the man questioned, looking at the instrument carefully.

"Yes. Now give it back!" Fritz demanded, though he regretted his tone the moment the man truly began glaring at him.

"The king does not like it when you play the flute, little prince," he growled. "How dare you go against the king's wishes! You are disrespectful and you don't listen. No wonder he beats you!"

Fritz froze, mortified. "Y-you saw that?" he whispered.

The man sneered. "Of course I did. If you truly wanted to be king someday, you should do as your father says so he doesn't kill you before he dies."

The boy stood before the general in a mix of awe and horror. No general had ever talked to Fritz before, or if they did, it was merely a bow of the head and a simple greeting and nothing else, and certainly none of them insulted or mocked him. It was a wholly new experience for the boy and he wasn't sure he liked it, this closeness to someone that was not his mother or his nanny. It seemed that all men were just about as mean as his father was.

And yet, there was something about this man that inspired admiration from the boy. This man was tall, taller than his father, with broader shoulders. He certainly looked the military type. And yet his frame was lean and agile, though strong, like a young oak. Despite the snowy locks, something that Fritz would have attributed to old age, this man looked not a day over twenty-five. But what really terrified yet amazed the boy were the crimson eyes that both sparkled and burned mysteriously. It was like looking through flames into the past, making the child feel as though this man before him had been there at the very beginning of creation.

Before Fritz could respond, frozen in place, the man turn and walked away. Just as suddenly as he seemed to appear, he was gone, turned the corner and vanished. The boy continued to stand stone still for several minutes before he was able to breathe again. Once he could, he realized that he was alone and that the strange general with his demonic smirk and evil eyes had gone, and had taken his flute with him.

That was the first time Fritz met the mysterious albino man.

oOoOoOo

It was nearly three years later that Fritz once again saw the albino man, this time walking down the palace halls with several other military looking men. The three of them were talking as Fritz was sitting outside the study, reading a book in the window. He looked up as they came near, though none of the older men seemed to notice the boy, or if they did, they didn't act like it. It was as though they didn't care.

It upset Fritz to know that these men would treat him in such a contemptible manner. He was their prince after all, they should be bowing and respecting him! "Ahem," he coughed slightly.

The three men turned to stare at the boy blankly before recognition filtered through their eyes. Two of the three of them bowed to the teenager prince, giving him a courteous, "You highness". The boy was dismayed and annoyed to note that the albino just stood there, red eyes alight with mischievous glee.

"Well well well," the crimson eyed man smirked. "If it isn't the little French prince."

"I'm not French!" Fritz cried. Even though he adored the French way of life and culture, he felt strangely defensive and ashamed of himself when this man sneered at him like that about his fondness for the other nation.

The albino snorted, apparently unperturbed by the fact that he had just insulted the prince. It was then that the boy realized that the man before him hadn't aged a day. He looked exactly as Fritz remembered him, down to the last detail. He had made it a point to remember the only man that had ever so blatantly insulted him besides his father.

"You have no right to speak to me in such a contemptible manner," Fritz stood up, trying his best to look down his nose at the man, though it was hard considering the albino nearly towered over him.

"I'll speak to you how I like," the other responded curtly.

Before the young prince could say another word, the albino turned on his heels and began stalking away, not once looking back. The other two men looked a bit troubled before they gave the prince a hasty bow before following their comrade down the hall, leaving the young prince frozen in place, wondering how anyone could treat him like that. It was as though those two men were more afraid of the albino than of Fritz, the Prince of Prussia!

That was the second time the Fritz saw the strange red-eyed man, but he did not forget. He made it a point to try and find out all that he could about this strange, disrespectful man.

oOoOoOo

A year later found Fritz walking down the hall for his daily viewing to his father. He always hated being viewed by his father. In fact, he just hated the king with every fiber of his being. He hated looking at his father, he hated talking to his father, and he hated being in the same room with his father. His father was vile and stupid, how his mother had ever been able to put up with him was a mystery to the prince.

His mother did join him soon, and together the pair made their way to the king's study. The guards outside the door looked troubled, but obediently did their job and open the door when the queen and prince passed by. When they walked in, the two instantly knew that something was wrong. They could feel it.

Muffled grunts could be heard from another room, and before his mother could grab his hand, Fritz inched forward to investigate the source of the sound. As he got closer, he could hear his father's angry grumbles before he peeked around the corner. What he saw froze the boy.

Kneeling before the king, being beating by the insane man, while not even attempting to stop the abuse, was the albino man. The strange man that Fritz still knew little to nothing about, was grunting as the cane fell on his back and shoulders over and over again, but made no other sound. Fritz might have been impressed had he not been so horrified.

For some reason that Fritz could not properly define, he found himself feeling sorry for the pale man. It was true that the prince was not overly fond of the rude albino, but no one deserved that sort of treatment from his father. It reminded the prince all too clearly of how his father treated him. Seeing this being done to someone else, especially when that someone else wasn't even fighting back, was hard to bear.

Before he knew what was happening, Fritz was in the room and caught his father's hand as he was ready to strike the man again. "Stop!" he cried, wrestling with his father for a moment or two. "Stop! What are you doing?" he cried, hoping foolishly that he could make the king see his insanity.

The king turned blazing eyes upon his son. "Get out!" he screamed, throwing his cane at the boy. Fritz dodged it, and went to grab the kneeling officer's arm. "Come on!" he growled trying his best to get the man up.

The man didn't even so much as move. Like a rock, the albino stayed rooted in his spot, not looking up, just staring down at the carpet. "You. Will. Stay," the king ground out.

Almost visibly, the albino seemed to take deeper root in place, bowing his head a little more. Fritz was horrified. "Come on!" he urged again, wondering fearfully way his father wasn't coming after him that very moment.

There was nothing to be gained by all of his tugging and pulling. Fritz couldn't get the albino to budge, and soon the king began laughing. It sent chills down the young man's spine. "He won't go. He's mine. Tell him. Tell the boy," he nudged the officer with his foot.

Obediently, the albino began speaking. "I obey the king. He is my ruler. I listen to no one but him."

Fritz was confused. There were bruises forming on the man's face, his lip looked split, and yet he remained under his father's abusive control. Why? The albino was easily a good five to six inches taller than the king, and much younger and more powerful. So why then did the man that could so obviously stand up for himself, was normally so cocky, sitting down like a dog? Where had all that pride gone? The arrogance? How long had his father been abusing this man?

Fritz didn't get too much longer to ponder this as his mother rushed in and grabbed him by the hand, rushing him out. "Go to your sisters," she said simply before rushing back, probably to try and calm the king. Stubbornly, the young man did not go, but waited outside of the room for someone to come out and tell him all that had happened. The wait only took twenty minutes or so, but soon, the albino officer came out, shoulders square and proud, his back straight. It was as though he had not just been humiliated moments ago.

"What happened?" Fritz stepped forward. "What did you do to make him angry at you? Why did you take it?"

The prince might have been invisible for all the man cared. The albino walked right on past Fritz without so much as a backwards glance, as though to say Fritz didn't matter. Anger rushed into the boy's face as he stalked after the indifferent man.

"I'm talking to you!" he growled. "You will stop and answer me peasant! Answer your future king!"

At last, the officer paused and turned to glare back with demonic fiery eyes. He stalked up to the boy, leaning in so close Fritz could smell stale beer on the man's breath. There was beer, leather, sweat, blood, and earth. Surprisingly, the earth smell came off as strongest, smelling like freshly tilled soil, an unusual scent for a soldier.

"How many times I got to say this to you kid?" he growled. "I listen to the king. I obey the king. No one orders me around save him. Got that?"

"You would show such devotion to a monster?" Fritz snapped right back, feeling hurt that his good deed of standing up to his father had been ignored and he was denied satisfaction of a thanks. "You would really honor him instead of me? The one that tried to help you? I was only trying to save you, you twit!"

"Until there's a crown resting on that fat little head of yours, boy, I listen to the king and the king alone," the albino snapped. "It is my duty to serve and obey him. When you wear the crown, I will show you the same level of devotion as I've shown your father, but until that day, I am his to control and his alone. I have done it a hundred times before and I will continue to do it a hundred times after!"

With that, the officer stormed away, leaving behind a very confused prince. The parting statement was quite cryptic, and frankly Fritz wasn't sure he understood it. What did he mean "a hundred times before"? He was quite sure there hadn't even been a hundred kings of Prussia thus far, and even if there had been, the man had certainly not been around to see all of them! Did he mean a hundred orders the king had requested?

Fritz puzzled with this for several years, in which time he did not see the albino again.

oOoOoOo

Although he knew he shouldn't feel the way he did, Fritz nearly giggled with mad delight the day he learned his father had died. Oh what a blessed day! Free at last from the ill tempered tyrant! Free to do as he liked because he was king now! He was king and he no longer had to fear his father's cane!

"Come, Sire," one advisor guided the young soon-to-be-king along. "Before your coronation, you must first become acquainted with your personification."

Fritz knew what this meant. He had been waiting years to finally be able to meet the personification of Prussia. Prussia, his nation. He was finally going to get to see the creature that so many stories were told of. It was tradition of sorts, that the royal children not be acquainted with the mysterious being on the grounds that it was probably too horrible to handle at such a young age. Indeed, there were plenty of stories of the feared nations going to war, killing hundreds of men singlehandedly. In the ancient days, Fritz had been told that the people believed that the personification were devils, or at least mythical beings. They looked like men, but had power of gods. Fritz couldn't wait to finally meet the creature that he would be controlling. A creature that protected the land, the people, and said to be the very earth itself.

Looking around, the young man found that he was walking quite quickly in his enthusiasm and had quite left behind the old advisor. Oh well. He was king now and everyone else had to follow him, not the other way around. Fritz was in charge now and everyone else was just going to have to get used to it.

Opening the doors, Fritz strode in, receiving bows from a great number of people. Sitting atop the throne— his throne now— the young man waited. "Well?" he snapped impatiently. "Sent it in! It's time the king has met Prussia!"

As the doors across the hall opened, Fritz was nearly salivating with delight, while nearly cringing in fear. This creature would be the key to all of his success or failures. This being would make or break him. Treated too gently, it could devour him, treat it too harshly, it could turn on him. He was not sure how his father had managed not to get eaten by the creature or run through, but Fritz was determined to show that he was the one in control now, different than his father or any of the other past kings of this land. He was Friedrich II! He was King of Prussia now!

Footsteps echoed outside and Fritz had to stop himself from squirming in his seat. Here it went. He was going to be face to face with Prussia, the creature the men called "Demon Eyes." But the figure that came forth first into the light disappointed Fritz greatly. It was the same strange albino man that he had gotten glimpses of throughout his life. He still looked the same as he had the first time Fritz had ever seen him. It was shocking really, especially after how abusive his father had gotten towards the end of his life. The man still looked youthful, still full of vigor, still muscled and trim…

This was the day Fritz had been looking forward to for a long time. The time when he could finally tell this bastard off, maybe even throw him in the stock for all of the disrespect he had shown Fritz as a child. This man had been a mystery to him for so many years, and now that Fritz was king, well, he could make this man suffer, could make him eat his words at long last.

"Well well well," he drawled when the man came to a stop. "Look who's come first in line to pay his respects to the new king. Come to pledge your allegiance to me? Come to beg for my forgiveness for your behavior over the years? Come to rebuke your allegiance to my father?"

"Yes," the man said, still looking proud, which caught Fritz off guard. "No. No."

Everyone in the room stiffened. "What?" Fritz was confused now, not caring at the moment how dumb he sounded.

"Yes, I have come to pledge my loyalty to you until the day you die," the albino said seriously. "No, I do not ask for any forgiveness because I do not need any, especially from you. No, I do not regret my service to your father, the late king."

The young man was floored. Such arrogance! "Have you any idea who I am now?"

"You are my king," the other replied easily.

"Yes, I am!" Fritz stood up. "I am your king, and you owe your allegiance to me!"

"Yes," the man nodded, almost a bow.

Confused, frustrated, Fritz sat back down. "Get out of my sight," he sighed. "I have other pressing matters than you. I am awaiting for the arrival of my country who is to swear its loyalty to me."

"And so I have."

Fritz's eyes snapped onto the form of the albino. "What?" The eternally youthful officer got down on his knee and bowed deeply to Fritz, unnerving the young man. "What are you doing?" he demanded.

"Fulfilling my duties as I have always done, my lord," the albino said, this time much more respectfully. A dreaded feeling entered Fritz's stomach. "I, the sovereign and mighty Kingdom of Prussia, while grieving the loss of King Friedrich Wilhelm, acknowledge the succession of his son, Prince Friedrich II, as my King and my Ruler, my Master and my Caregiver. And as Prussia, I offer to my King my services, my protection, my people, my land." The albino stood up. "All hail King Friedrich II. Hail!"

"Hail!" the rest of the room cried.

"Hail!"

"Hail!" the men repeated again.

"Hail!"

"Hail!"

When the cheers were complete, Fritz sat frozen in his seat. "Demon Eyes," the eternally youthful face, the utter and complete loyalty to his father, his pride, his audacity…How could I have been so blind! "Y-you're Prussia?" Fritz whispered, staring disbelievingly at the strange officer he had come to both despise and admire.

The nation turned and looked up at the new king, his red eyes twinkling with an otherworldly gleam. "Indeed, my lord. You expected someone different?"

"B-But why?" Fritz stuttered, and he hated himself for it. "All these years, you never told me who you were!"

A frighten smile pulled back the nation's lips. "You never asked."

"Why didn't you just explain to me who you were?! Why did you mock me? Why did you harass me? I had told many servants about you and wanted to have you flogged for your insolence towards me! Had I known who you were—"

"You would have what?" Prussia challenged, making Fritz start to sweat. He finally understood the sheer power that came from this man, why he feared him so much. "Would have just sat there and took my abuse? You would have been too much of a coward to even face me."

"I would not have yelled back at you, that is true," Fritz admitted, struggling to save face, but also trying to retain his authority. "That is not the proper respect one treats a nation with. But I don't understand why you also took my rudeness. My own abuse. You could have ended it so easily."

The nation smirked. "You're a fighter, my lord. You have fire. Had I extinguished it, you might have never gotten it back."

"Then why did you attack me as well?" Fritz demanded. "I never did you any wrong and you always provoked me! I would have left you alone!"

"Well now," Prussia crossed his arms. "I needed to do something to actually create that spark in you in the first place, didn't I?" The new king sat dumbfounded. "I didn't want a weak king in the future, now did I?"

Fritz found himself shocked. After all of these years he had finally found out why. He had his answer. The albino had criticized him because he had wanted Fritz to be strong. He had helped create real resistance in Fritz that day in the garden so long ago, a rebellious fire that had not been there before. He had served his father with such devotion and loyalty because he was bound to do it. It all made sense now, yet it still frightened him in a way.

"Why did you do it?" he asked again. "Why go through all the trouble? The aggravation with me? I was nothing. Just a weak prince with an abusive father. Why…help me like this?" And help he truly had. He would have never stood up to his father as he had, never would have done half the defiant things he'd done just to get a taste of living had he not first had practice with the albino. With Prussia.

"Stick with my, Fritz," the nation peeled back his lips into the semblance of a smile, though it was much more threatening and terrifying than anything the young man had ever seen. "I'll make you awesome."

And from that day on, Fritz took his nation up on the offer and held on for a wild, crazy ride as King of Prussia, forever with the albino by his side.

Author's Note: …I didn't feel like finishing my poetry homework…

History: The Solider King, a.k.a. Friedrich Wilhelm I, a.k.a. Fritz's dad, was an abusive SOB that had a thing for canes and would often beat people, even if they were other visiting diplomats. He often abused Fritz for being "too French" and because he played the flute and wasn't manly enough, essentially. Needless to say, Fritz hated him. P.S. Fritz grew up to be an asshole, guess who's fault that was in this fanfic~ ;P

*Not sure if this is completely accurate of how these royals would act—other than the beatings, those happened a lot— but eh, it's fanfiction. Forgive me this once for not checking every little detail. Thank you. ^^

'Nother Note: In this fic, Nations aren't as readily known to people, thus Fritz not recognizing, knowing who Prussia was before he was king…just go with it please~

Please R&R as I'd be most beholdin' to ya! Thanks!