Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart - GerIta

Chapter 18: Epilogue

The man fell into step beside Feliciano, though he looked like he wasn't sure how that had happened. "Uh... Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. Pleased to meet you."

"Arthur? Like King Arthur?! I always thought that English stories were the best. Ludwig is German, so his stories are dark and strange and oh, I hope you won't be upset to meet him, even if he is German..."

"The war was years ago." Arthur gave Feliciano another smile. "I have to wonder why we are constantly reminded of it."

Feliciano breathed a sigh of relief, then laughed lightly. "That is good to hear! You seem like a nice fellow, Arthur. Oh! Ludwig!"

Feliciano hurried to where Ludwig sat at the table on the street, a pot of coffee and two mugs on the table before him. Ludwig looked up and smiled, his eyes sparkling blue as always, his hat pulled forward over that little bald spot he hated but which Feliciano thought was cute. "Feliciano."

Feliciano loved the sound of Ludwig saying his name in that deep, unfading German accent. Everyone else called him Feli - everyone but Ludwig. To Ludwig, he had always been Feliciano, and always would be.

"Look, Ludwig, I found an Englishman!"

Arthur looked a little startled at the introduction. Ludwig just nodded politely. "Good afternoon. I hope Feliciano did not scare you, he tends to do that."

Arthur shook his head and let out a short breath of laughter. "Good afternoon. And not at all, I assure you. In fact I am... almost reminded of someone."

Feliciano fell into the chair beside Ludwig and gestured for Arthur to sit opposite. "His name is Arthur, Ludwig, can you believe it? Arthur, this is my friend, Ludwig." Feliciano winked again before gesturing to a nearby waiter. "Excuse me, young man, could we get some tea please? He's English." Ludwig muttered something that sounded suspiciously like an apology. Arthur looked like he was trying not to laugh.

"So," Feliciano continued, turning back to the table cheerfully. He was always happy to meet someone new, especially someone English. "Have you ever seen so many people gathered in one place?" he asked, gesturing around the busy cantina.

"Actually, yes, but I am from London," explained Arthur, resting his hands lightly on the table. He glanced between Feliciano and Ludwig, like he was trying to study them discreetly. "I suppose everyone is here for the anniversary."

"The anniversary?" Feliciano was still not entirely sure what the celebration was about.

Ludwig passed Feliciano a mug of coffee. "Feliciano, don't you know what today is?"

"Yes, it's Tuesday."

"No..."

"It is too, Ludwig, it's Tuesday, I know because last night we had bolognese and we always have bolognese on Monday so today must be..."

Ludwig interrupted quickly. "It is the thirtieth anniversary of the American landings."

Feliciano paused for a second. "It is?"

"Yes."

"Oh." Thirty years. Feliciano could remember the landings of thirty years ago like it was yesterday. The landings he had told Ludwig about, on that awful winter morning in the rain, betraying the Resistenza by doing so. The landings that had taken Ludwig away from him. That was what everyone was celebrating? Feliciano suddenly felt quite ill. Before he could think how to react, a loud voice interrupted the silence.

"Arthur!" Feliciano looked up to see a blond man in glasses, a military uniform, and a crooked little hat race up to the table and grasp the back of a chair breathlessly. "I think I got lost!"