Re: Blood and Iron

Snow poured onto the landscape of Berlin, especially in the rural areas just outside the city to the north where Bruno's personal estate lay in tranquil silence. Midnight had come and passed, and Bruno had been sitting outside, enduring the elements as they passed by—not violently or bitterly, but gingerly, as if the frosty wisps were gently kissing his steaming flesh, keeping him cool while he should long have turned into a boiled lobster.

It had been nearly an hour since Bruno first stepped into the pool of water, one closer to boiling temperature than room temperature—103 degrees Fahrenheit to be precise, or roughly 39 degrees Celsius.

This was not the grand pool which his family used to enjoy during the summer season. No, this was a much smaller body of water, more the size of a bathtub. Yet the water did not lie still like such a thing; rather, it was bubbling turbulently. The jets beneath the surface had been designed in such a way as to massage the muscles and bring relief to the body as a whole—especially the arms, back, and shoulders.

It was a comfortable sensation. Despite the thick clouds gently dropping snow upon him, Bruno could see glimpses of a crystal-white full moon in the sky above. All the while, a beer rested in his hand, the bottle coated in condensation and feeling far warmer than the liquid within, which helped keep the man hydrated and healthy despite rapidly sweating out his body's fluids.

In fact, this was the final beer in a six-pack that now sat empty on the stand above the water, designed specifically to hold things aloft from the liquid that would surely ruin them. Bruno had sat there far longer than he realized, enjoying the sensation washing over him, as he gazed silently to the sky as if by doing so he felt himself drawing closer to heaven's gates in an overwhelming sense of bliss and relief.

His eyes eventually shut as he let the water jets massage his neck—that is, until he felt his face plunge forcefully under the water, which ran through his nostrils and caused him to wake up from his trance-like experience, coughing up what had plunged into his lungs.

Standing above him was his beautiful and loving wife, with a sadistic smirk on her face, clearly the culprit who had just dared an attempt at mariticide. Not in broad daylight per se—rather, one might say beneath the illumination of the full moon—but still, the nerve!

Rather than be angry at the woman's shamelessness, Bruno was equally playful as he grabbed her by the shoulders, tearing off the towel shielding her fair, jade-like skin from the falling snow. He dragged her up and over the edge and into the pool with him, a small splash accompanying her naturally meager weight as she plunged into the water in her husband's arms, laughing at his flagrant assault, all while expressing her concern in a lighthearted way.

"You've been out here for an hour, you miserable bastard. Are you okay? Or are you having another bout of existential dread?"

Bruno immediately feigned offense, mocking her for suggesting that his most attractive and defining trait was somehow negative.

"Are you saying my existential dread is unappealing? I thought it was my most charming quality!"

The couple laughed at each other's terrible sense of humor before kissing silently beneath the snowfall and the gleaming moonlight, which had replaced the sleeping sun. Heidi then made sure the humor wasn't just a defense mechanism, and that he was really okay.

"Seriously though, you've been staring at the moon for a very long time. I'm starting to consider seeking professional help if you don't assure me you're okay here and now."

Bruno patted his wife's silky golden hair, which flowed luxuriously past her neck and shoulders down to her lower back, now submerged beneath the turbulent water's surface—softer than the fur of a merino sheep. He wore an authentic and genuine smile.

"I'm good, seriously. I've just been thinking a lot about the future, and our children. They're growing up so fast, and I spent too many years away at war. I feel like I'm being blindsided. By this time next year, Eva will be seventeen, Erwin will be sixteen, and Elsa, my little girl, will already be fifteen years old. Where the hell has the time gone?"

Heidi scoffed—Bruno always focusing on the ages of their oldest three children, and not their younger ones, whom they had after a break to raise the first crop. She reminded him that there were far more brats to take care of and raise properly.

"Are you forgetting your other children? Don't tell me you've gone senile already, old man."

Bruno's face turned stern suddenly as he gently flicked her on the forehead, "disciplining" her errant behavior as he did so with a chiding tone, like a father scolding his daughter.

"Watch it, missy! I have yet to accept the idea that I am old! I am in the prime of my life, thank you very much!"

Heidi took no offense to the light-hearted "battery" her husband had just put her through. Instead, she broke into a fit of uncontrollable and frankly adorable laughter, mocking the man for defying both the Sisters of Fate and Chronos, even as he still somehow managed to appear ten years younger than his actual age. She was included in that, clearly under the protection of whatever spell he had cast to stave off the war against time itself.

"Bruno! You're almost forty! For the love of God, you are already past your prime! I know you still look like you're in your late twenties, but for the love of God, act your age!"

Bruno sighed and shook his head, conceding that her words were true. It was a gesture she hadn't expected. If Heidi was being honest, she had anticipated some grand but foolish declaration of challenging time and space itself. Instead, he admitted the truth. He was old now, and he had to accept it.

"I guess you're right… I'm just another old man… I suppose it's fine though. I'm in good company. With men like Wilhelm and Nicholas by my side, I look half their age by comparison! Speaking of, dear, have you heard anything about how the meeting went between Eva and young Prince Wilhelm?"

Heidi smirked when she heard this, then leaned in and whispered something long and silent into Bruno's ear. His response was not surprise, but a proud paternal smile as he replied in a similar tone.

"That's my little girl…"

Clearly Bruno was as proud as a father could be that his daughter, Eva, had learned all the tricks of charm, guile, and manipulation that he and his wife had taught the girl, and had masterfully entranced her future husband in a state that he would never even consider looking at another woman.

But the war for a man's heart was not so simple, and Eva still had a long way to go. Meanwhile, Bruno would have to tread carefully on the other front he was deeply worried about, as Elsa was a far more reserved and shy girl, one that was not as proactive and charming in a witty way like her elder sister.

This was indeed a battlefield that most certainly required the most utmost caution and preparation to win. Luckily, the girl had the Wolf of Prussia and the Angel of Berlin in her corner guiding her subtly from behind the scenes.