Hey guy, this is my first fic I ever wrote. Here are so many great Basterds fic which inspired me to write my own story. I would be so happy to get some feedback and review because I still feel a bit uncertain. Hope you will like it! Oh, and I have no knowledge of German or French, so these phrases may be not correct, but I apologized for that.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Inglourious Basterds universe, only Heidi and the other characters of mine.
It was shortly after 5 pm. In the afternoon as I stepped out of the railway station, looking around with astonishment. I had never imagined Paris being so beautiful. Of course I had seen man pictures before, mostly about the Eiffel tower and the Louvre, but seeing Paris in reality was different nevertheless. When I looked around in hope for a sight of the driver who should pick me up here, I remembered the letter I got back in Vienna from my father.
I feel deeply sorry for what happened to your mother. Her death was both surprising and unexpected for us, nevertheless that your mother and I were divorced for already more than a decade. Now because you're still under age and I feel responsible for you, I would like you staying here with me in Paris. My driver Hermann will pick you up from the railway station there and bring you up to my villa in the countryside. I'm looking forward to finally meet you again, my dear Heidi, it must be more than 10 years ago that we met last. I can't wait to see how my little girl has grown up and turned into a beautiful young woman.
Your father Hans
I was still standing outside of the railway station, enjoying the bright sunshine. Everything was so beautiful here, there were already flowers in the trees and the birds were singing lovely. I smoothed out my deep blue dress, starting to feel lonely again, like so often since my mother died a few weeks ago.
Suddenly, I then saw a young man in a grey German uniform walking around a large black car, holding up a sign with my name, Heidi Stöckl, written on it. After the divorce from her husband, my mother took up her maiden name again, that's my father's and mine surnames were different. I was relieved to be freed from my father's surname; nevertheless I have his bloods flowing inside my veins. Even back in Austria I have heard about my father's glorious deeds and the nickname he got from the French people. "The Jew Hunter", that's what they called him and I couldn't help but it gives me always the creeps when thinking about what my father did every single day.
I slowly walked towards the driver with the sign, pulling my three heavy suitcases along with me. "Sie müssen Hermann sein?" ("You must be Hermann?") I asked shyly. I always felt a bit nervous when speaking to foreign people; a habit I could never get rid of.
"Nun …" "(Well …") the young soldier replied hesitantly, ""dein Vater, Oberst Landa, wird benutzt, um mich so zu nennen, aber mein richtiger Name ist Klaus." ("your father, Colonel Landa, is used to call me like that, but my real name is Klaus.")
"Oh, tut mir leid, Klaus," ("Oh, I'm sorry, Klaus,") I apologized; my cheeks slightly blushed because of the mistake I made.
"Nicht der Rede wert, Lady Heidi," ("Don't mention it, Lady Heidi,") Klaus smiled. I already felt a bit better now; the young soldier seemed to be a nice guy. "Los geht's, " ("Here we go,") he said, opening the door for me and helping me climb inside. I nervously smoothed out my dress, stroking a blonde curl back behind my ear and letting my hands wander over the cool leather seats. All I could smell was warm leather and cigarette smoke. Klaus got into the car and started the engine.
"Wohin bringen Sie mich?" ("Where are you taking me to?") I asked with low voice.
"Ich bringe Sie zum Oberst Landa die Villa außerhalb von Paris." ("I'm taking you to Colonel Landa's villa outside of Paris.")
"Umm ... ist es weit weg von der Stadt?" ("Umm … is it far off from the town?")
"Oh nein, sollte es nicht länger als 20 Minuten," ("Oh no, it shouldn't take more than twenty minutes,") he answered.
I nodded, leaning back. I felt a bi cold whenever my skin touched the cold leather seat. Klaus concentrated on the road, so I let my gaze wander over the passing buildings. Everything I have read over Paris was truth; it seemed to be the most beautiful city of the world. I got excited when I saw the Eiffel tower, but felt angry then when I recognized the red swastika flags hanging there. It made me both angry and sad when I saw the influence of the Nazi invasion over Europe, and it reminded me even more who my father is.
We quickly left the city behind us, following the road to the countryside. I blinked tiredly, the long travel from Vienna to Paris had exhausted me to no end, and as I leant my head against the window and closed my eyes, I soon dozed off.