A Heart

The Hungarian-Austrian Union

1867

She belonged amongst the trees. Her coppery hair and bright green eyes had once allowed her traverse as one with the forests of her home. Hungary is the only nation that deserves Elizaveta. Her own land has not yet betrayed or harmed her. Gilbert knows, deep within himself, that neither of them deserve to keep her.

Roderick kisses his bride, breaking his usual austerity to take Elizaveta into the circle of his arms and kiss her so hard that her gasp echoes in the vaulted church. Her grin is so earnest and wide Gilbert goes completely still. She is happy, and that should make him happy, but its not enough. So he sits calmly in the pew and forces stoicism into his face.

Ludwig is still very small, hardly the height of a normal five year old, but he's much better than he was only a year or so before and the flourishing of this growth and health has caused this marriage and has finally driven any chance Elizaveta had of independence. But Gilbert knows that this marriage is truly on equal terms, that both of them love the other. He knows that this wedding would have happened eventually, with or without his aggression. He knows Ludwig's well being is worth every bit of the ache in his chest, but still its not enough. So Gilbert shuts his eyes and places his hands in his lap and holds very still but for his breathing.

Ludwig inches his way closer, until they are thigh-to-thigh, but Gilbert doesn't move. Its only a few minutes later when the music has stopped and the rustle of skirts and clacking of dress swords has silenced that Ludwig's head presses into Gilbert's shoulder that he startles and whisks Ludwig off the pew and down the aisle. He doesn't want to miss Elizaveta's leaving. He keeps his hands on his brother's narrow shoulders. His brother doesn't realize it there is no physical pressure, but Ludwig is all that is holding him up.

As they make it outside, sunlight sweeps over them and Gilbert has to squint for a moment to make her out in the light. Elizaveta is mounting the steps to the carriage and despite the train of her skirt, she doesn't accept anyone's hand to do so. When she's settled and leaning out the gilded window, her skin is a luminous ivory to match the dress though there is a sort of glow to her that out does any of the pearls stitched into the hems of her dress, but it isn't her color. White washes her out like black. He lifts his hand from Ludwig's little epaulet and squints to compare their skin are a distance. Her's is barely any more alive than his is and she's never been so pale. Roderick appears in the adjacent widow and they wave goodbye, ever the happy couple. Ludwig grabs Gilbert's hand and they jostle their way through crowd of well wishers.

"Elizaveta!" Ludwig's voice calls and panic shivers down Gilbert. Ludwig bounces up and down, all blond bangs and tiny blue and waves his arms. Elizaveta gets a glimpse of him and her grin widens. She opens the carriage door for a moment, descends the steps and gather's Ludwig up in her arms for a moment, laughing as she does. She is the closest thing to a mother he's ever known, and Gilbert can try all he like to replace her, but Ludwig against her breast is a sight he can't replace. Roderick appears behind her and Ludwig chatters happily at him while

Roderick taps her shoulder and he and Elizaveta say goodbye to Ludwig, but Ludwig clings to her. Its only when Elizaveta strides forward in a whorl of skirts and gently hands Ludwig to Gilbert that Ludwig lets go of her. It takes him a second though, and Elizaveta has to touch him. Its just their forearms brushing, and its only for a second, but its more of her than he's had in a decade.

They make eye contact for the first time in ages. Her head tilts a little and Gilbert tries to swallow, but his mouth is dry. He can't say a word, and he can hardly breath. Her eyes are full of joy and there is no longing for him, but as she places a kiss to the top of Ludwig's blonde head, he swears there is a dark glint of seething hatred towards him. He's taken away the final piece to their perfect world and perfect lives. He's taken away the closest thing she and Roderick can ever have to a son of their own and he doesn't blame her for her hatred. Guilt and putrid selfishness rises in his chest and try as he might, he will never hate her for it.

"Viszontlátásra!" She says piercingly and then just as quickly, Gilbert removes himself from the sight of her leaving. But the Hungarian is still sharp and stabbing in his ears as they leave. German is harsh and precise, but their goodbye, their "Auf Wiedersehen" carries the promise of reunion. Hungarian doesn't. Hungarian is final. Hungarian inflicts damage in a way a bullet or a sword never can.