|DEEP SCARS|
Fritz's coat had blood on it, obviously his own, but he didn't show weakness on his face. When Julchen found him, he was standing alone on a small hill with his rapier sticking in the ground in front of him. It was getting dark, but the king still stared at the mess of what had been the Battle of Kunersdorf. The combined armies of Russia and Austria had slightly outnumbered them but the Prussian army had beat impossible odds several times before in this war and they had to attack before the allies could get any closer to Berlin.
It had been a complete rout. Of the almost 51,000 Prussians that charged that day, only 3,000 remained. Julchen had lost sight of her king when the Prussian army scattered and, after finding his horse dead, began to fear the worst. The albino knew she should've gotten her injuries looked at-- her arm was definitely broken and the blood loss from a bullet wound she was staunchly ignoring would've already killed a human-- but she wouldn't stop looking. Finally, finally, finding her king the nation sprinted to his position, yelling "Fritz! Thank GOD, I thought you were DEAD! We have to retreat to Berlin to regroup, before they get ready to advance." They may have been at war with France, but Fritz was enamored with French culture, so she addressed her king in that language instead of their native German.
The monarch turned to look at his nation and she stopped cold at his expression. His eyes were as dead as a man already buried and his voice was flat when he explained "I won't be going anywhere. This was my fault. Either I hold the line against the whole enemy army alone or die."
Julchen's heart thudded in her throat and she froze for a second. Fritz wasn't supposed to be giving up like this. "You won't die. Not here. Not now." She snatched his hand with her unbroken arm and yanked him roughly to the west. "We've got an army to regroup."
Fritz knew exactly how strong his nation was, but he dug in his heels. Feeling resistance, Julchen stopped. She would never actually hurt her king for anything. "My brother can do that. You deserve a king like Henry." The human dragged his hand over his pale face, looking like he might throw up. "If I listened to him, we would've won, my god."
"I don't want him to be my king." Without warning, Julchen bent down and wrapped her good arm around Fritz. She straightened up, leaving Frederick bent over her shoulder, legs forward and torso dangling behind her. Throwing him over her shoulder was so much harder than it should've been and for a second Prussia wobbled, thinking she would fall over. But even wounded as she was, Julchen was many times stronger than a human. "You're the best king I ever had. I'm not losing you here."
Fritz could probably feel her muscles shaking, but he didn't say anything about it as she started marching towards Berlin. "Why would you say that? I just KILLED you." He was right in a way. There wasn't really any hope of their 3,000 men holding the city against the nearly 100,000 men advancing on the capital from what seemed like every country in Europe. He could've won today and held their ground, but now...
"I'm not dead yet." Julchen knew if the situation was reversed, she would've already written the enemy off. Wounded, retreating, surrounded, outnumbered-- just waiting for a coup de grâce. The albino's eyes pricked and she had to swallow before she could force "I know I'm pale, but I'm not a ghost." Yet. Really though, this was PRUSSIA, so no one could write her off. She was holding her own fine against Russia, Austria, Sweden AND France. After how well the last war went, she was just waiting for her comeback. "And don't you dare even think the word 'surrender'. It might exist in German, but not in Prussian." An odd statement, considering they were speaking French.
The king acted like he hadn't heard her. He was so limp, Julchen was honestly worried. She didn't think he was that injured. Was Fritz going into shock? "Julchen, we won't surrender. It's too late for that. But I won't outlive you either way."
How many days was he expecting that to be? This time, Jul couldn't keep the thickness out of her voice. "Right. Cause I'll last for centuries. I'm not dying out in your lifetime." She had to grit her teeth as saltwater dripped down her face. Her free arm was broken and Jul couldn't wipe tears away without the pain of moving it. Her legs were heavy, but that might've the bloodloss, as she marched on. They both knew she was lying.
"Why are you acting like this? Julchen, I just killed you." Fritz was crying, Prussia noticed in a corner of her mind, but she was almost entirely focused on one foot in front of the other. Her legs were wobbling with each step and she sank onto one knee, trying to control her collapse so she wouldn't drop Fritz. She pitched forward and Fredrick's shoes hit the ground. Now Julchen was kneeling in front of him, and the king grabbed her shoulders before the nation could fall over. "Prussia? Prussia!" He knelt in front of the crying girl. "Are you alright?" It was a stupid question. Even if he couldn't see the blood from her bullet wound, they both knew that she wasn't.
Julchen tried to wipe at her face with a numb hand. Her voice cracked when she replied "Fritz, I don't want to die." Unlike the rest of their conversation, this was in German. Her language, no matter how much she knew Fritz wished it wasn't. "I was finally strong again."