"Let me out of this hell!"

The scream froze the young servant in the hall, as if cold water had been poured on his body. The hall was silent, empty as it usually was early in the mornings, save for the occasional servant on his way to his shores. The sun, hidden behind heavy clouds, made its way through the windows, and the october breeze lifted the curtains gently. The same cold breeze rushed up the hall, kissing the walls, and brushing his face.

His face became sad, as if he picked up his pace, almost running upstairs, through the maze of halls that made the castle. He gripped the tray of morning cakes he had been about to deliver, hoping they would be safe. He left them on the table, next to the chamber where he thought he had heard the scream come from, and placed his hands on the door. He didn't want to open it, wishing that this had not been the person that had screamed, hoping it had been some servant that needed to vent his feelings. He closed his eyes and let himself in.

The young blond stood back, his eyes narrowing in sadness, as his fear became reality.

On the floor, next to a messy bed, whose covers were tangled on the floor, lay a figure hunched over. A hideous sight, the man rocked back and forwards, muttering unintelligible words, murmuring furiously. He did not turn as the young servant walked in, nor did he stop his talking. He was unaware of anyone else being on the room, of the bed next to him, of the huge windows with their golden, brocade curtains to his left, and of the many things inside his room. He was in another world, alone.

The young man stepped forward, his eyes full of sadness, bending close to help the man to his feet. He wished these things would stop, wanting the man to be himself, the same gentle, sweet person he was before this madness overtook him.

"Leave him, Hornig"

The young servant stopped, his eyes widening, and turned to face the man that stood by the door. Tall and majestic, King Ludwig walked forward, his face devoid of any human feelings. He looked at the servant, then at the young man on the floor, his eyes narrowing softly. The servant wanted to talk, to voice his concern, but drew back. There was nothing he could do to stop things from breaking apart, and from pain eating both of their souls.

Hornig watched the young king bend down and grasp the crazed man's shoulders, stopping the man's rocking. The king gripped him harder, forcing the man to look at him, but the man didn't even see him. He continued his mumbling, his eyes glazed with soft tears, but not seeing him.

"Otto," Ludwig called, his voice barely above a whisper. "Otto!"

"Silence the hall... again..." The young man said, his hands running feverishly up and down his own shoulders. "Leave the door open... so the swallows can come eat... with me... leave it... swallows..."

Ludwig shook Otto harder, forcing him to stop talking; to stop saying such nonsense. He gripped the young man's face, making him look at his own, ignoring the small whimper he heard from his servant. It was cruel, but he didn't care. Didn't Otto know that he was being cruel to him. He closed his eyes, biting his lips, and grabbed Otto's hands, twisting them towards him, ignoring the scream of pain he gave out.

"Let me out beasts! Let me out of this hell!"

"Otto!" Ludwig whimpered, his voice hard now, angry at his failure. "Brother!"

The man stopped screaming, his voice cut short, and his eyes found those of the young king. With shaky hands he reached to touch Ludwig's face, curling his fingers on his hair. Ludwig hunched closer to him, holding him close to his body. Otto buried his face on his chest, crying bitterly.

"Hornig," Ludwig said. The young servant nodded, his voice faltering. "Call up a carriage."

The Bavarian people were used to such displays of lunacy on their streets. Their king, whom most thought of as pompous and eccentric, was known to summon up his carriage at midnight and ride in the streets. Still, as the October breeze picked up, and the golden carriage carrying the king rode through the streets, people came outside their homes to stare at the spectacle. People always like a show.

Still, the shill in the air was broken by the hooves of the royal, black horses and the golden carriage. The trip had been a long one, all the way from Linderhof, down the slopes into the city, and the people that rode the vehicle were weary. The carriage driver looked morbid, dressed in black, but he was used to such last minute rushes.

"Your majesty," Herr Josef said, his back bumping against the seat, but trying not to let his anger show. "Are you all right?"

Ludwig smiled, his dark eyes concealing the anger and hatred he felt towards the court member, and nodded. He wished he didn't have to be accompanied by so many people every time he went to the city. But, there would be too many people thronging him, and he wanted to clear the way easily. Then, he'd loose the members of the court altogether.

He looked outside at the street, watching the faces of the people he knew judged his every move, and thought, no doubt, this was another display of his whim. They had no idea what it was went through his mind, or the seriousness of his action. No one did, except Hornig. The young servant rode in the carriage behind him, his face dark with worry and his eyes a deeper blue than usual. Such sadness always plagued the young boy's face that Ludwig felt ashamed of being the source of most of it. Yet, Hornig followed him faithfully, as always, and would remain by his side after he disposed of the rest of the court.

He smiled to himself, refusing to think about the sorrow that pierced his heart, and looked at the young man that sat beside him. The man's eyes stared out at nothing, as if the world was flashing before him in colourful pictures, and only that. He seemed unaware again that people were next to him, or that they sped down streets to the city. That they sped down in a mad dash into a place where he would be treated, speedily, or so Ludwig thought, so the nightmares in his head could be taken away. He let his back slide into the wall of the carriage, his smile widening, unconscious of the stare he got from the other court members riding next to him, uncomfortable because of him.

"Brother," he said, taking Ludwig's hand softly. "When we return to Linderhof, let's spend some time together in the garden. I want to show you something I found."

Ludwig nodded, smiling. It would not take long to make his brother well. He refused to look at the faces of the other men that rode with him. In them he saw nothing but hatred and evil; the faces of devils that laughed at his attempts. He knew all too well what they were thinking. Herr Josef, Herr Pfistermeister, and Herr Lutz thought his brother was crazy, wickedly crazy, and would have him left in some white walled sanatorium in Munich.

Ludwig brushed these thoughts aside as he heard the carriage driver announce that they had arrived at their destination. He held his breath, ready for the fight he would undertake.

The door of his carriage was opened too fast, eager hands reaching inside to take hold of his brother. Ludwig gritted his teeth, fighting back the urge to kick the white robed doctors away, and killing those who reached towards his brother. Otto had no idea what was happening, but he did not react violently. He was calm as the doctors gripped his shoulders and hands, dragging him from the coach, and lead him inside the building. Ludwig gasped, not wanting to believe that such treatment was necessary. He stood before the doctors, rigid and tall, his face composed, dressed in all his finery. The members of the court stepped behind him, following his moves, and soon the people in the other carriage joined them. Herr Goethe, the administrator of the health hospital, walked up to the assembled people, his eyebrows lifting slightly as he saw the king. He bowed low, his hands on his chest. Ludwig was unimpressed, his eyes narrowing slightly, and when he spoke, his voice held no emotion.

"Herr Doctor," he said. "I trust you will good service to his majesty, Prince Otto, for he is in need of your health services."

Herr Goethe looked at the king, raising an eyebrow, his black eyes mocking him in silence. The king did not see this, and remained as an equal, aware that every most be looking at him. The institute assistants helped Prince Otto walk towards the main lobby, the nurse ready to fill his information cards. The prince remained oblivious to everything around him, even of his brother.

"What is wrong with him, Your Majesty?" Herr Goethe asked, his voice like a knife.

"Nothing," King Ludwig answered. The young man did not look at the doctor's face, only at the form of his brother as the assistants took him away. "He merely needs to rest in an institute where I know he will be refreshed for a few days."

Hornig, who stood behind his majesty, along with the rest of the Court, caught the distress and insecurity in the man's voice. He wished he could destroy the institute, and banish all the evil its white walls whispered, but he felt helpless, as usual, to do anything. He watched as Ludwig walked slowly, with the rest of the court, following the doctor as he spoke about the treatments used in the institute. Herr Lutz smiled as the doctor explained the modern facilities that were now being installed, and became quite involved in the conversation. Hornig remain beside the carriage, waiting for the moment when he and Ludwig would leave those abominable men behind.

Then, a sudden shriek escaped Prince Otto, as the assistant that held his arm, tried to lead him into the white hall, upstairs to his room. The assistant grabbed the crazed young man, holding him near, but the man refused to go with him. Angry, as if he knew where he was, he pulled himself away, desperately afraid. His screams rose higher, becoming inhumanly horrible. Another assistant came to help, holding the boy by his shoulders. Hornig bit his lip, watching the men treat the prince as if he were an animal, and not a man. The young servant turned his gaze, to see if Ludwig had seen such a display of inhumanism, but his majesty was nowhere down the halls. Herr Goethe, immersed in the medical conversations with Herr Lutz, and still guiding the king, had taken him into the gardens some distance away. Hornig lowered his eyes to the floor. Even if Ludwig had not seen it, the king must have known.

His face did not betray his anger. It was still composed and beautiful, but inside, his soul burned with an anger none of the men present could understand. The young king placed his fist on the table roughly, his patience running thin.

"Absolutely not, Dr. Gietl," he said, his voice cold. "I am not letting him remain here. My brother is returning to Linderhof with me."

The doctor stood up, his eyes wide with contained anger. He wanted Prince Otto to remain in his care, not trusting that the young man would be able to function stablely in the castle on his own. Ludwig's defensiveness infuriated him, as did his complete ignorance. The king was no more than a child, even though he was twenty. His mind was so childish and dense, obeying his every whim, ignoring anyone else. It was clear that Otto's condition was less than stable. It is not simply some lack of rest, some stressful discomfort, or nervous exhaustion. The young man's behaviour was worsening every moment, growing darker into madness. Dr. Gietl wanted to make his majesty understand, but he feared that the eccentric young king would not listen. He wondered if he were not crazy himself, but kept his thoughts silent.

"Your majesty," Herr Lutz said. "I believe what doctor Gietl is saying has a bit of validity. Let Prince Otto remain in the sanatorium for a few days, since it is best for his health."

Ludwig looked at the man who had spoken, his brows knitting together. He had expected such suggestions from his court. Herr Lutz nodded gravely, his eyes revealing concern for both the king and the prince, but Ludwig did not wish to leave his brother in such a place. He wanted to take him to Linderhof, back to his castle, so that he would go on to live a quiet life like normal brothers.

Ludwig snapped out of his thoughts, aware that the doctors were talking again, and that Herr Lutz was seriously discussing Prince Otto's future. He sat back on his chair, his mind weary of too many thinking. He did not wish to surrender to their demandings, and he began to wonder if that was the reason why he refused to obey them. Did he care about Otto at all? He ran his gloved hand over his tired brow, fighting back the immense need to yell he felt curling in his stomach; the need to get up and leave.

"Why don't we ask Prince Otto himself," Dr. Gietl said. "Let him decide."

Ludwig lifted an eyebrow, his mouth twisting into a smile. What a funny little man the doctor was turning out to be. He turned his face slightly, amazed by the men that sat before him, and looked at his brother. Otto remained silent, his eyes half closed with exhaustion. His thin, yellow hair fell over his eyes, but he looked as sane as any man. But, he had not been listening to a word any of the men gathered around him had said. None. Ludwig wondered if his brother knew where he was. He watched as Dr. Gietl got up from his chair and walked towards his brother, his eyes concerned like of a doctor towards his patient. Ludwig leaned forward, his eyes half narrowed. Dr. Gietl placed a hand on Otto's shoulder and the young man snapped, looking at the doctor wearily. The doctor smiled softly, hoping the young man would not revert to angry fits.

"Your majesty," he said. "The members of our board, and your brother, wish to know if you would be pleased to remain with us in our facilities?"

Prince Otto remained silent, staring at the old man. His eyes were dark around the edges, his weary state betrayed by that darkness. He was tired: tired of examinations and of people taking him places. He wanted to go back to his room, rest, and be ready to return to the war in Munich. He didn't like the delay with all of these medical exams.

"Your majesty?" Dr Gietl said. "Do you wish to stay with us?"

"I wish to go back to Munich," Otto said, hardly a whisper.

"But your eminence is ill," the doctor said. "It is best that he remain here in the care of our skilled doctors, who are specified to help him regain his health."

"I WISH TO GO BACK TO MUNICH!" Otto screamed in anger.

Ludwig stood from his chair, his face grave and his gloved hand clasped before him. The doctor stood back, ashamed, as his king walked up to his brother. Otto was becoming ill again, his eyes wide and his respiration quickening.

"Brother," Ludwig said, holding Otto's shoulder. "Let us go to Linderhof, where you may stay a few days before returning to Munich?"

Otto nodded, his head falling back into the crook of his chest, where he kept it frequently, and did not bring it back up. Ludwig nodded, clasping his brother's hands, but the young man was no longer with him, but wandering again. Ludwig straightened, looking at the doctors sternly. They knew he had won, and dared not even speak, but watched as their king walked out, not glancing back at them once. Prince Otto remained immobil where he was, but began muttering to himself softly.

"Dr. Gietl," Herr Pfieimeister said, coming closer to the doctor and clasping his shoulder. "Yours is the soundest advice. Should his majesty become worse, we will bring him back to you, but let us give him a week or two."

Dr. Gietl nodded, his glasses slipping forward slightly. "His majesty doesn't have a choice, secretary. Prince Otto has become much too ill."

Herr Pfietmeister nodded sadly, his eyes loosing their shine for one moment, then turned to follow his king, indicating the rest of the Cabinet that was present to follow. Prince Otto watched the Royal Advisors walk past him, and got up to follow them, his pace short and awkward.

The October sun was high in the sky, hidden by clouds, but shinning nonetheless. It seemed o be struggling to survive the coming winter. Small birds sang in the thickets around the garden, even if it was becoming too cold for people to wander outside. No one usually waked out from the castle, preferring to remain indoors, by the warm fire. Still, young Hornig liked to stroll outside with his mare, taking it where sings of life still lingered; where the squirrels and foxes made heir homes and caves led into water that had not been frozen. The young stable boy was happy to wonder in nature, leading his horse in silence by himself. He knew Ludwig sat by the room in his bedroom and watched his as he walked away from the gardens. He wished that the king would come down and walk his own horse with him, but Ludwig remained mostly in his room these days, pensive and immersed in war matters.

"The silver fox knows it is time for the hunts," the one ridding behind him commented. His voice was gay, and he sped up his horse to catch up with the blond servant. "It is hiding away from hunters."

Hornig smiled, hearing Prince Otto laugh softly, and ran his hand over his mare's mane softly. The animated lifted its ears, glad for the gestures.

"Von Bismarck ought to have more fox hunts," Prince Otto said. "If he had a few more, then perhaps he would be more keened with the French."

Prince Otto had taken a French accent as he spoke, making Hornig laugh harder. The young prince had behaved stable for the past weeks, his countenance all in proper place, his face devoid of any harsh darkness. He had taken up going on walks in the gardens, ate heartily, enjoying the company of the ladies of the Court and his brother. Hornig was glad that the young soldier prince was more himself these days, and had left the sings of lunacy back in the Sanatorium.

"Perhaps," Hornig said. "If Herr von Bismarck had the French and Prussians hunt together, the war would be over."

Otto stopped his horse, dismounted, and pulled it by its reigns. The animal walked slowly behind him. The prince's uniform made him look dignified, his weapons in his belt, the various medals on his lapel. Both men's horses joined each other and began to eat from the grass that grew along the road they took.

"If only it was so easy, Herr Hornig," Otto said, breaking off a branch. "But, out here things are worse than any of us can portray. I only wish Ludwig would take things seriously. This is one war that could endanger many people if it gets out of hand, mostly the Prussians. But, Ludwig wishes to remain in Linderhof, listening to his operas and building fairy tale castles."

Hornig lowered his head, wishing they wouldn't discuss such things, but he didn't want to upset Otto, who had been tame this long. His body was not exhausted any more, not as when soldiers had brought him home from the Franco-Prussian war, which was tearing the soldier prince apart. His placid face regarded the young blond quietly. The young man blushed softly, ashamed of such a stare, almost as hot as Ludwig's, and looked away.

"Look!" he said, not waning to continue the conversation. "A rabbit's hole!"

Hornig bent down, his gentle fingers removing the loose leaves and flowers, and revealed the small home. His nails got dirty, but he didn't care. Prince Otto looked at the young man, wondering why Hornig seemed always to be lost in his won happiness. Didn't he feel the pressure he felt, the evil he felt burning off the walls of Linderhof; the hatred he saw i the king's eyes; the madness? Didn't the horse boy ever feel the madness?

"I live in a rabbit hole," Otto said, his boot upsetting the leaves next to Hornig's hand.

Hornig frowned, removing his hand from where the prince had almost stepped on it. He looked up at the young monarch's face, sad to see that a small shadow had crossed his brown eyes. The prince was looking down at him, his feverish eyes boring into him again, and he felt himself blush harder, worried about that stare.

"Yes," Otto repeated, his words drowned in his personal sorrow. "I live in a rabbit hole, and everyone keeps me there. The war, my mother, the people that surround me, Bavaria -Ludwig- They all keep me there."

Hornig lowered his head, not liking the tone in the hurt man's voice. He gasped as the prince stepped closer to him, startling him. His breath was lost as the man gripped his shoulder roughly.

"But I wont let them," he said feverishly. "I wont let them take me to that horrendous place-"

Hornig whimpered softly, as the man's grip tightened. He watched him quietly, holding his breath as the prince's eyes danced in their sockets, widening horribly. Lines formed around the man's mouth and eyes, and saliva dripped from his mouth, running down his chin, and into his clothes. He was gone, Hornig knew, away to that world where he hood when madness overtook him. the young servant closed his eyes, sorrow griping him savagely, like the man's hands. Otto was so unstable, so unpredictable. Ludwig would one day, if the hereditary madness that had claimed Otto touched him, be like this as well. Hornig's soul feared that day, crying out for God's mercy. Otto's' wide eyes resembled those of Ludwig, as if he was already mad and abusive.

"We'll take Count Berhem, " Otto whispered, as if he was revealing a secret to Hornig. "And Bismarck, and the whole Spanish throne. We'll take them all, and maybe we can invite my brother. I want to show him what I found in the garden... or was it at Berg? We'd best not tell no one... what we hunted..."

Hornig breathed harder, pleading to be released. "Prince Ott-"

"You think I'm mad," Otto said. Horning held his breath, ashamed. He shook his head. "Yes you do," Otto continued. "The only reason you like me is because I'm Ludwig's brother. That's why Queen Victoria likes me, and why anyone likes me."

"No, sir," Hornig said, struggling free from the man's tight grip. "Let us return to the castle, plea-"

"I envy your quiet," Otto said, twisting the servant's hands to his back. "The soft blue of your eyes, your calm heart. I hate you! Why am I the only one with a cursed mind?"

Hornig yelled softly, as Prince Otto twisted his wrists, his grip much too hard. His skin was becoming bruised, and he feared what the man would do. Otto forced him to the floor, kicking him hard on his ass. Hornig breathed hard, not wanting to fight back, not wanting to hurt Ludwig's brother. He was about to get up, when Otto flung himself upon him, hitting his back with his fists. The young blond gasped, his eyes widening in pain. Blood dripped from his mouth as Otto hit him harder; but he kept the pain inside, and did not hit him back. He reached and gripped the man's uniform with his hand, closing his eyes, taking the madman's blows silently.

There were tears of frustration in Otto's deranged eyes, as the inner madness possessed him faster. Hornig bit his lip so he wouldn't cry out, as the prince dragged him from the floor by his hair. He reached up and held on to the prince's hands, moaning in pain.

"Please, stop, your majesty!"

Prince Otto laughed, and spat at him. Hornig's soul was about to burst from too many hatred, and he feared he would have to hurt Ludwig's brother. he swung his legs backwards, assuming a soldier position, and threw Otto of his balance. The prince's knee reached upwards and hit Hornig's jaw. The servant screamed in pain, letting the man's hands go, his eyes closed as the blow threw him to the floor. Blood spluttered to the floor, running over his hands, and he felt his head began to spin. Otto laughed maniaticaly, staggering to his feet over the servant. He reached and yanked Hornig's head upwards, gripping him by his hair. The blond servants' battered face held a sad expression, but he was quiet, his melancholic eyes staring at the crazy prince. Otto's' breath came in gasps, his body tired. He was about to yank the boy's head off, but found himself frozen, looking at the lovely boy's eyes. Such strangely deep, blue eyes. Prince Otto stood back, releasing his grip on the boy's hair, lost in those eyes. In their gentle peace, the one Hornig possessed constantly. Then, he knew why Ludwig never told anyone how special the boy was to him. Hornig's cheeks were a soft pink, his skin beautifully blushed, his lips half parted, trembling in fear.

A sudden sob escaped the prince's body, as his cries overtook him, and he sunk to the ground, next to Hornig.

"Mein Gott!" He cried "The evil I've done... swallow... mein Gott..."

His mind tortured, his soul in pain, his body shaking with grief, he began to murmur, his words incomprehensible. He was speaking to fast, his words jumbled, but Horning could understand them. The servant drew closer, reaching with trembling fingers towards the crazy man. His soft hands found Otto's shoulder, drawing him closer tenderly. Otto jerked his head abruptly, ashamed that Hornig showed such feelings; but the servant ignored it.

"Clear blue... blue.. so much road to go; a hard road to walk... to reach that lost part, in Germany... beauty.. in those blue..."

Hornig closed his eyes, holding Ludwig's brother, as he hungered to hold Ludwig, close to his chest, his hands tenderly over his head. He rocked him gently, tears running into his lips.

The young prince reached a hand to touch the boy's face, his eyes so much like the king's eyes, Hornig's sorrow deepened. He fought to smile, and watched the man's eyes brighten; removing the grip that the dark future had on the servant's heart.

"With such blue eyes, Hornig" Otto whispered. "It is no wonder why Ludwig likes you."

Hornig gasped, his smile widening as his tears fell to mingle with Otto's own. Oh, how cruel fate would be with this young prince, Hornig thought. How incredibly horrible. He sobbed, as Otto held his hand, speaking softly.

"Stay with him, Hornig," he said. "When I am gone completely."

Ludwig had found him in the hall that lead into his library, his head bowed over his chest, his hands over his face, as if he had something to hide. Not recognizing who it was, he had looked at the king a long time, his eyes half glazed, until Ludwig had walked closer to him. The king stopped where he was, his heart broken, as his brother began to talk gibberish, murmuring about nothing. He had wanted to run up to him, angered that such an illness should render him useless, and hit him over and over, until it bled. But, he had stood where he stopped, waiting until Otto finished his speech, until he would stop explaining about why it was nicer to wear a napkin for dinner, a subject Herr Lutz had brought up at the dinner table three weeks before.

It was useless; no matter how hard Ludwig tried, Otto refused to behave normally, refused to stop talking nonsense. It seemed to the young king, that his brother was sinking into a void, regressing to his childhood, and he was unable to help him. He had begun to avoid him, walking in other directions whenever he saw him in such states. He had vowed not to address him if he behaved irrational, and that had cursed him, without him knowing, to avoid him almost constantly. It hurt.

It was night now, almost midnight, and his thoughts would not stop spinning in his head. So bad, that he felt as if he was going insane as well. He pulled the covers up over his chest, closing his eyes, and willing his brain to stop talking. But, one can never do this. Otto kept appearing in his head, his brother kept running away from him, in his vision, into a dark portal. Ludwig cried out to him, scared that he'd fall and hurt himself, but Otto only laughed, a crazy laughter, and beckoned his brother to follow. Ludwig shook his head, banging his head on the pillow so the vision would stop.

"Gott in Himmel!" he whispered harshly, clutching his head. "Stop this torment!"

He stopped breathing, aware that there was someone in the room with him. In the darkness, he could see the figure of a man standing by the window, hands folded in his chest.

"Who...?"

The man walked towards him, placing his hands on the end of the bed, and stared at him silently. Ludwig pressed his lips together tightly, watching the face that stare at him hotly. Long, messy, wet hair hung over its eyes and it was covered in a sort of mud. The man was not wearing any clothes and his hair hung in wet strands over his back, covered in the same mud and filth as his face. But, the man's eyes were what held the king silent. Feverish and hot, they bore into his own.

"Otto," Ludwig breathed out, "what have you been doing? You are all wet and dirty and-"

"Ludwig," the man said, twisting his head sideways. "I want to show you something I found."

The king drew his covers closer over his chest as his brother climbed into the bed, coming closer to him like a feline, an odd expression in his eyes. His hands groped the covers, as his head danced sideways repeatedly, as he murmured something Ludwig did not understand. The prince laughed softly, climbing all the way up to his brother's pillow, looking straight into his eyes.

"It is dark, Otto," Ludwig said. "I cannot go outside now and you should be in bed."

Otto lifted his head, his eyes wide as if someone has struck him in the back. "I cannot go to sleep!"

Moving to his side while he removed his covers, Ludwig drew himself from under his brother's body, breathing hard. He reached out to touch his shoulder, but Otto drew it away defensively.

"You have to go to sleep, Otto," the king said. "You need rest, or how will you manage the trip to Brandenburg? It is more than two days journey."

"I cannot go to sleep, Ludwig," Otto murmured, bringing his head down unto the mattress and looking at the lamp on the king's night table. Its light bulb was sputtering slightly, as if it wanted to shine. But, Ludwig kept it turned off, and both could only see each other in the moon light. "I cannot."

Ludwig closed his eyes, summoning his control, and sat in bed, watching as his brother ran his face on the mattress, smiling to himself. The king wanted to get off the bed, to leave the room, escape like he always did when things got out of hand. He reached up and combed his hair backwards, struggling with his will. It was past midnight and Otto needed to get some sleep, and where had he been that he was so wet? Had people seen him, and what had he been doing?

"You at least must go back to your room," he said. "This is no time to be up and about. It is midnight, Otto."

"I know," Otto said, drawing his legs over his head, and twisting over unto Ludwig's pillows. He laughed and looked at his brother, not comprehending why his face showed such sorrow. He wanted to play, why couldn't Ludwig see that?

"Otto," Ludwig said, getting off from his bed and walking around his bed towards Otto's side. "You need rest and I do as well. Now, get off from my bed and go to your room, please. If you want you can take a bath and th-"

The king gasped softly, as he saw the huge, bloody gash that ran over the prince's left leg. It was purple around the edges, and ran from the calf to the heel; dark blood ran from it and stained the covers. Otto didn't even seem to notice how hurt he was. He twisted his head, and lay over Ludwig's pillows, looking at the lamp, as if he wasn't in pain. As if Ludwig was not there.

"Otto," Ludwig breathed, reaching down to touch his brother's wound tenderly. "You are hurt." But Otto did not not even hear him. "You are hurt, Otto! Let me get something to tend that wound."

The king drew away from the bed, walking backwards, his own eyes wide, as a maddening fear enveloped him. He didn't want any servants in the room; didn't want anyone in here, but he needed to tend the wound soon. He looked silently at the blood that stained the covers and ran into the floor. He shook his head, drawing himself away from the void he felt himself falling to.

He reached over to the lamp, and pulled the golden string that made it light, narrowing his eyes as the light bothered them. Otto moaned in delight, turning his face fully to look at the light bulb as it wheezed golden. Ludwig held his breath, stepping backwards slowly, staring at his brother's face. Otto's eyes were bulgy, shinning as if on fire, as he looked at the light. His lips were white and crumpled, full of the same mud that covered his body; his skin colourless as if what lay on his bed was a corpse. But, it was alive, Ludwig knew. It was a living dead man, and it was his brother. His dear, little brother whom he never had come to love because his father had loved him best.

"Brother..." Ludwig turned away, unable to talk anymore. He felt like wrenching; like dropping on his knees and crying uncontrollably. He stepped hard on the floor, feeling the cold on his feet, and willing the night to become real. He opened the water faucet, making as little noise as he could so as not to call up his servants. He placed two towels in the tub, reaching down to get the wet and brought them out gently. The lamp light drew long shadows that ran into the bathroom and made his figure fall with them into the wall besides the tub. The shadows seemed to be dancing, he thought, as he sank into the small stool that stood next to the tub, burying his head in his palms as the towels became wet. His head hurt, making his skull pulse.

Otto was laughing softly when he came out carrying the towels and a small basin in his hand. The prince had put some covers over his head, watching the shadows the lamp drew across the floor and windows. Ludwig placed the towels and basin on the floor, bending to bring Otto's leg up, so he could wash the wound. He pulled one of the chairs close, biting his lips. He wanted to go back to sleep without doing any of these things. He wanted to shake his brother until he would stop doing these things, but this was no time to get mad.

"The shadows run into your closet, Ludwig," Otto said, wriggling his foot. "What do you have in the closet that they would want to get, eh? Maybe you keep one of them trapped inside and they want to find him."

"Otto," Ludwig said coldly. He was tired of such nonsense, and his uncaring manner was taking over him. "Your leg is seriously hurt. Where did you get this wound, and why were you out at these hours of the night?"

"The lamp makes a nice shape in the ceiling," Otto said, smiling. "Look at the circles the rim of the lampshade creates."

Ludwig wrapped his brother's leg in the towels, making the blood stop. He cleaned the wound with a dry towel, and wrapped another one over the wound, making a small bandage. He drew part of his covers over it, so the cold wouldn't make the wound wrinkle. Otto had not even felt the pain the wet towels probably caused him, nor had he cried out in pain when Ludwig tended it crudely. He turned to look at his angry brother, innocently unaware he was hurting him.

"Otto," Ludwig said sternly. "What were you doing outside? Enough nonsense!"

Otto looked up at his brother mutely, twisting his head sideways in the pillow, until it was turned upside down. Ludwig curled his lip, angered that he was unreachable and bent down to grasp the man by his shoulders. Otto gasped as Ludwig shook him and banged him softly into the pillows.

"Tell me! Don't you know where you were, or what you were doing? Don't you know why you are so wet? Have you any idea how late it is? Can you even tell me where you are now?!"

Otto cried out, reaching up to grab his brother's hands, trying to make him release him. His eyes grew wide, hot as anger began to rush into them, and grit his teeth. Ludwig eased his grip on him, looking straight into those eyes, waiting for an answer, but Otto gritted his teeth harder, moving his head sideways, kicking his legs softly. Ludwig snarled, pinning him with his body. Otto moaned louder, trying to get away from Ludwig, sticking out his tongue like an animal who is becoming wild.

"You do not know?" Ludwig hissed, releasing him. Ludwig got up, drawing away coldly. He walked to the window, reaching down to grab one of the curtains, not looking back at the shaking body of his brother on the bed. "Otto, go back to bed."

"I cannot go to sleep, Ludwig," Otto whispered.

"Why in Heaven's name can you not go to sleep?!" Ludwig snarled, turning around fiercely. He stepped closer to the bed, his steps menacing as angered madness overtook him. Otto drew inwards into the mattress, watching his brother with wide eyes. "You have not slept well for days! You refuse to go to bed, and when you do, you lie awake for hours."

"I cannot go to sleep, Ludwig," Otto screamed, banging the bed with his fists. "I cannot leave it alone! I have to keep watch over it!"

Ludwig came closer to the bed, reaching out for his brother, forcing his anger to stay calm. Otto's wide eyes followed him, and the sickness made him perspire faster, his breath coming in gasps. Ludwig's brows knitted in sorrow, as he reached a tender hand towards his brother.

"Leave it alone?" Ludwig whispered, clutching the covers. "Leave what alone? Otto what are you talking about? Is this why you were out in the dark?"

Otto's head fell on his chest, as he brought his hands to cover his face, and began to murmur incoherent things again. "I can't leave it alone... It's out there... in the rain and mud... alone." He lifted his head, looking at Ludwig with desperate eyes full of a sorrow his brother would never understand. "It's out there... and I have to guard it."

Ludwig swallowed his sob, as tears fell down his cheeks. He reached out to grasp Otto's shoulders, drawing him near. Otto resisted weakly, but let himself be taken into his brother's embrace. The mad prince looked up at the king, his eyes glazed with tears.

"Come see it, Ludwig" he whispered, his voice coarse. "Come see it..."

The morning light fell over their bodies like a small caress and followed them as they made their way from the castle. The wet leaves groaned under their bare feet, their small fingers becoming muddy. A little rain had fallen during the night, making the garden wet and the eerie light from the lamps on the paths gave the place an unreal feeling. Perhaps it was a dream and both of the young men walking in the dark were asleep in their beds. But, it was real, and both monarchs shivered uncontrollably from the cold.

Ludwig wrapped the long, black coat he was wearing closer over his body, wishing the biting shill climbing up his spine would leave. Yet, he knew it was not the cold making him shiver, but his brother, who walked ahead of him, leading him into the west side of the royal gardens. He had dragged him like a madman from his bed, and led him here, talking excitedly, and too fast for the king to understand. But, Ludwig had promised to see what his brother insisted he'd see. The reason why he couldn't sleep; the thing he had to protect constantly. Ludwig bowed his head, biting his lip, and caught up with his brother, feeling like a fool for not staying in bed.

"Ludwig," Otto said, coming close to him, his eyes shinning. "Here it is. We are here."

Ludwig blinked, looking at the bushes and small lake they had come to. It was not a special part of the garden, like he had hoped. It was just bushes, a dirty pond full of mud and small animals swimming inside. He wondered why none of his servants had ever maintained this particular pond, nor the lake that branched behind it. Still, there was nothing wonderful about the small, dirty garden that he believed Otto would wish to show him. He turned to his brother, puzzled.

"Where you here all night?" he breathed. "Naked and alone. Otto, what on Heaven's name where you doing here?" He was becoming scared, and what scared him the most was that he didn't know why.

"Look, Ludwig," Otto whispered, moving away from his brother and squatting down next to the pond. "Look."

Ludwig drew closer, his bed robes getting dirty from the muddy terrain, and bent near his brother, looking at what Otto was digging up with his fingers. It was just covered slightly with a bit of mud and the prince revealed it quickly. Ludwig stood back, his eyes a bit wide.

Otto stood up, holding a small, dead swallow in his hands tenderly, rocking it softly as if it were a small baby. The small bird's neck swung back, its tiny beak half open.

"It's my little swallow, "Otto said. "Do you like him, Ludwig? I wanted to show you that day we rode to the city, but i couldn't. I wanted to show you when we travelled to Munich, but you wouldn't listen to me."

"Otto, you've been out here, burying animals?" Ludwig said, his tone a bit harsh. He was becoming possessed by anger again, the kind that comes from fear and sorrow. He had complied to his brother's wishes against his will, only to hurt further. He drew backwards slowly, wishing he had never known of this place.

"I stay awake every night and watch over it," Otto said, running his fingers over the bird's head. "Is it not beautiful, brother? Like the ones our mother used to have in her aviary."

Ludwig curled his fists, his frown deepening. He couldn't believe what his brother was doing. Otto was beyond madness, beyond cure, and he felt helpless. Ludwig was unable to stop Hell from coming, and he hated himself. And hated Otto. And that stupid, dead swallow.

"Otto!" Ludwig said savagely. "Let's go back to our rooms, now. Leave that creature where you found it."

"Don't you wish to stay here?" Otto whispered, notting the grave tone in his brother's voice. "It is quiet and dark. Here, no one looks at me with angry eyes, and there are no white robed doctors trying to medicate me. I am happy here with my swallow. Aren't you?"

"No," Ludwig spat angrily. "I am cold and I hate the way you are acting. Now let us return to the castle, because you need a bath."

Otto stepped back, protecting the small bird with one hand, as Ludwig reached to grab him. The king's eyes were flared, his soul beyond anger and sorrow, his teeth gritted slightly. He grabbed the young man's arm roughly.

"Stop this nonsense!" Ludwig whispered angrily. "Stop this madness, Otto."

The prince rung his hand free, pushing his brother away, angry that Ludwig was being so violent. Ludwig recoiled, his eyes narrowing savagely. Otto stepped backwards, clutching the bird. His bare feet stepped inside the dirty pond.

"I want to stay here, Ludwig," Otto said defensively. "You go to bed and leave me here with my friend. Can't you see something might happen to him if I'm gone?"

"Otto," Ludwig yelled, grabbing his brother by the shoulders. "Stop this! You are talking like a madman! You are not making any sense! Please stop this, and let that stupid bird go!"

Otto screamed, struggling to break free from Ludwig's grasp. He began to make screeching sounds with his throat, wriggling desperately as he dragged Ludwig further into the pond, their feet becoming entangled in the water weeds and mud.

"Let me go, brother," Otto pleaded. "You are hurting me."

"You are the one who is hurting me," Ludwig screamed, bringing his face close to his. "Have you any idea how much I worry about you? How much pain it causes me to hear my own Court say that you are mad? They dare not say it to my face, but I know they believe this. It hurts to see my own brother running naked like a beast, talking lunatic stupidities, when he used to be the smartest soldier I ever knew. It hurts me, Otto, and you don't care what your madness does to me."

Otto narrowed his eyes, his teeth gritted like a wolf.

"You're the one who's mad, Ludwig!" he screamed, pushing his brother back. "You're the one!"

Ludwig's hand reached up to hold his brother's head, dragging him from the dirty water, his eyes glaring red. The robe he was wearing fell from his shoulders and into the murky water, sinking under their struggling feet. Otto kicked madly, screaming louder like a wounded beast.

"Brother," Otto pleaded, his hand loosing its hold on his small bird. His voice trembled with fear, as he suddenly stopped kicking Ludwig's legs, desperately trying not to drop the animal. "Brother... the swallow... please..."

Ludwig groaned as Otto freed himself with one powerful swing of his hand, and pushed him backwards, almost making him fall into the muddy water. The prince bent down, frantically trying to keep the bird from falling from his hand, but the small creature fell into the water. Ludwig felt his heart about to escape from his mouth, as he watched Otto moan loudly, a sob escaping him as he reached inside the water for the small animal. The king's lips trembled as tears fell from his eyes into the water, watching his poor brother. He dropped his hands to his side, sobbing like a lost child, watching Otto's infuriated attempts to rescue the animal.

"Swallow!" Otto called out, immersing his body fully into the muddy pond, his hands groping in the dark for the bird. "Don't leave me. I told you not to swim into the water. You'll drown... swallow... you'll drown!"

Otto screamed, his soul afraid. Ludwig drew away, dragging his legs out from the water, his soul defeated and broken. Otto looked at him, tears running down his own face, his mouth gapping for air.

"My little swallow is drowning Ludwig," Otto cried. "Help me! Please!"

Ludwig closed his eyes, his hands groping in the bushes, as his legs gave away under him, and he fell into the water. His body shook with sobs, and he shook his head, his voice a coarse whisper.

"No..." he said. "No, Otto. Leave it..."

Otto screamed, pulling madly at his hair. He bent closer to his fallen brother, his eyes full of sorrow, and his anger dying in his throat. Ludwig gasped as he came nearer, his breath stopping as Otto reached out for him.

"I wanted to have a blue eyed swallow, Ludwig," Otto said. "Just like you. Just like your blue eyed, lovely boy. Just like that small swallow, so I wouldn't be alone... in... my... madness..."

Ludwig gasped. Otto hung his hands weakly by his sides, letting fate take him. Ludwig closed his eyes. swallowing his sobs one by one, listening to his brother's soft moans, demanding his courage to return. Slowly, his hands groping in the water and his legs trying to find a hold in the mud, he rose from the pond. Otto whimpered as he thought Ludwig would again try to force him to leave. He feared to be taken, for he knew the king would send him away to that white walled place they had visited. He feared his brother's violence, and angry screams. But, he didn't move and Ludwig came closer, his shining in the darkness, his mouth pressed together.

The king looked at him silently and reached down into the murky water in front of them, reaching deep into the dark, muddy pond with his hand and bringing out the small bird, full of weeds. Ludwig looked at it, his soul incapable of holding any more sorrow, and turned towards Otto. His brother drew closer, a hopeful look in his eyes, his hands reaching tremulously towards the small bird, but afraid Ludwig would hit him again.

Ludwig placed the small bird gently in his hands, taking them softly into his. Otto moaned as he drew closer to his brother, his eyes on the bird, his small shoulders hunched. He closed his hands over the small animal tenderly. But, then he drew away slightly, moving his head from side to side, his eyes wide and his mouth gasping for air.

"No!" he screamed. "He's dead! He's dead Ludwig!"

Ludwig drew his brother close to his body, wrapping his hands over his shaking body, and held him tight against his chest. His brother buried his head into him, sobbing uncontrollably, as Ludwig caressed his head, running his fingers through his hair, his eyes closed as tears ran into his lips.

The morning breeze touched the curtains, lifting them up to his face, as it came into the room. Bellow, in the front of the royal castle, his carriage waited to depart, the driver sitting anxiously in his seat. The suitcases were held in place and two men, royal servants, sat inside, waiting for the prince to join them. The king rested his hand on the window sill, looking down at those men silently. He should be with them accompanying his brother one last time. He should at least be down in the carriage drive way.

He held his breath as Otto emerged from the castle, dressed in his finest red uniform with the plumed cap used by the German officers. He saluted his servants and the guards by the gate, and walked speedily towards the carriage where Herr Lutz waited for him. Ludwig saw both men exchange salutes, and the member of the Court opened the vehicle's door for the prince. He removed his cap, ruffling the red feather on its top with his left hand.

"This may be the last time I see you, my brother," Ludwig said, speaking to the window glass, who swallowed his words. "And you look very distinguished, and serene, but have no idea where it is you are going."

Ludwig closed his eyes, as Hornig came closer to him, touching his back with his small hand. The king smiled softly to himself. Hornig lay his head on the king's shoulder as Ludwig spoke.

"Your little swallow, and my little swallow, will always be here for you, even if you never remember."

"They are ready to go," Hornig whispered, looking outside the window.

Ludwig lowered his head, the breeze that suddenly picked up making him narrow his eyes. Herr Lutz mounted the carriage first, speaking to the other two men, and then Otto got ready to climb the little step that lead inside. The king held his breath as he got on the step and grasped the side of the door. Then, he stopped.

Prince Otto turned around slowly, the wind playing with his thin, yellow hair, and lifted his eyes towards his brother's room, looking straight at the king's window. He smiled, bowing his head slowly. From the window he saw his brother lift his palm, touch it to the glass, and return his smile.

Then, he got inside the carriage, closing the door himself, and the driver lead the horses through the castle gates into the early morning fog.
 
 
 

Author's Note

Wie findest du das? This story is dedicated to King Ludwig II and Prince Otto's memory, for their lives must have truly been sad.
 
 

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© November 1, 1997 Team Bonet Do not copy this, or else you will be making a felony, and can be punished by law.