#nyo!Lithuania | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

42wallaby-way-sydney · 18 days

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I've been in a Hetalia mood again and began playing with the idea of nyo!Lithuania and nyo!Belarus. Posted on ao3 as well but decided may as well post on here.

"To meet you was fate. To become your friend was my only personal choice. But to fall in love with you was far beyond my power."

Chapter 1:

Screams were quite common within the walls of Russia’s home, so upon the first few moments of pained and angry wailinAg, none of the inhabitants of the house flinched. Granted there were some thoughts of pity aimed towards the poor soul who had annoyed Russia this time but overall, no one was phased and no one made any moves to pause their chores in favor of helping the unfortunate person. What was far less common, and what truly gathered the attention of the nations held captive within the house, were the soon accompanying screams of pain from Russia.

Belarus had been in the library, reading as he was done with the few chores he was tasked with, and at first – just like everyone else – he hadn’t been phased by the screams. When it became obvious that his brother was the one in pain though, that was when he snapped the book closed and stood to make his way towards the screaming with the intention of stabbing whoever had dared to hurt his elder brother.

He was not the only person who had had the thought to follow the screams and witness what was happening.

“What do you think is going on?” Romania asked in a failed attempt at a whisper, trailing behind Belarus quickly. He clearly didn’t expect an actual response from Belarus and so was not disappointed in the least when the other nation just shot a scowl over his shoulder at him.

As the other nations began to stop doing their chores in order to investigate what was happening, Belarus felt even more annoyed. ‘How dare these ungrateful ingrates stop contributing! I hope big brother punishes these idiots too.’ Belarus thought to himself, ignoring as Romania and Prussia were running bets on who was attacking Russia. While everyone else was morbidly curious about who was making Russia yell out in what was clearly pain, Belarus was just furious at whoever was daring to attack his brother in Russia’s own home.

The fact that he was one of the people also moving towards the screams did not truly register to him; his excuse was that he wanted to help his brother, he wasn’t trying to be nosy or to get out of doing his part around the house. The group wasn’t even at the source of the yells when Poland – pale and looking absolutely stricken – came rushing down the hall, barreling into anyone in his way and yelling in Polish before he could censor himself to Russian, “Elena, no!”

Initially, Belarus became even more aggravated. Not because he was almost knocked into a wall but solely because it had been Poland of all people that elbowed him. Once the name that Poland had shouted truly registered for him, it felt as though a bucket of cold water had been splashed on him, something he had been well accustomed to as a young adolescent due to Poland harshly waking him in the mornings.

Elena…

Lithuania!

Belarus was barely aware that he had begun to run after Poland, now knowing that his feet were taking him to Lithuania’s bedroom. He froze in the doorway, right next to a frozen Poland, where he took in the sight before him.

Lithuania looked more lively at this moment than she had in years. A fire was raging in her eyes and her words were sharper than Belarus’s knives. And Belarus had the sharpest knives in Europe, Russia himself had made sure of this fact when commissioning their production and before gifting them to the younger nation. Lithuania had clearly taken Russia by surprise, there was no other way that she’d be able to overtake him. She was straddling Russia’s chest, one fist gripping the neckline of Russia’s shirt – ignoring or just not noticing that he was gripping her wrist in his own clenched fist – while her other hand was raised in a fist that came raining blow after blow to Russia’s face. Lithuania either didn’t notice the audience that she had captivated or she was just far too enthralled in punching Russia in the face to care.

“None of us even want to be here!” She yelled venomously. Each word that she screamed was accentuated with a hard punch to Russia’s face.

For his part, Russia seemed eerily calm now that the initial surprise of her attack had worn off. He just stared up at the woman as though her words were nothing more than just stating how the weather was. In fact, if Belarus hadn’t known Russia so well he would have thought that his brother was actually bored.

As it were though, Belarus did know his brother and he knew him very well and as such he couldn’t hold back the shudder that ran through him. He knew that Russia was furious and he didn’t even have to see his face to know it. It was painted in Russia’s body language for anyone to plainly see. Russia was gripping Lithuania’s wrist, the one not attached to the hand that was punching him in the face, so tightly that his own knuckles were ghostly pale and he was just staring up at Lithuania with ice in his eyes.

This icy calm that Russia was all but oozing out seemed to only infuriate Lithuania even more and as she began raining down her new onslaught of verbal abuse on Russia, all everyone watching could wonder was what had Russia done to make Lithuania crack so hard ?

“Your own sister would leave if she could!”

Belarus’s eyes widened a fraction in shock at Lithuania’s bold words. From behind him he could hear several others sharply intaking breath, just as stunned as he was. Ukraine could only gasp and slap her hands over her mouth, eyes watering to the point where tears spilled down her cheeks because though she tried to deny it and hide it, she hated living with her brother in the horrible prison that he dared to call their home. Prussia could only release a breathy, “ Holy shit, ” in German, the Russian language completely forgotten for the moment.

Lithuania almost smirked as Russia finally reacted to her words – his eyes narrowed and his lips pursed tightly. She delivered one last hard punch to his nose, nearly grinning in sick glee when more blood gushed out of his nostrils. But she wasn’t done yet, she was just switching up her tactics from physical to verbal as this seemed to warrant the most response from the larger nation.

“None of us want you to win this war!”

“Jesus fuck,” Bulgaria breathed out, quickly covering his mouth in shock.

But Lithuania didn’t stop there. “America will win! She’ll come out on top and show you – the whole world – everyone who the dominant superpower of the world is!”

What happened next was a blur as everything seemed to happen all at once. Russia backhanded Lithuania, the sound of something metal hitting the ground drowned out entirely by everything else that was occurring. All Belarus could hear was the blood gushing in his ears as his heart raced, Lithuania’s words echoing like a mantra on repeat. He just barely heard Latvia cry out from beside him. He didn’t even truly register Hungary whispering in Hungarian that, “ My god, he’s going to kill her! ”

Lithuania fell off of Russia, dazed and seeing stars but having enough sense left in her to reach for the metal object that Russia had dropped in favor of hitting her. The metal object had been the spark for the whole fight and she quickly put it into her mouth and forced herself to swallow, choking on the object, and ignored her body’s natural reflex to gag and throw the foreign object back up.

Ukraine rushed forward, tears streaming now with hopeless abandon and a cry of, “Vanya, no! Please!”

Russia shrugged his sister off of him and straightened his clothes back into place before striding to where Lithuania was crouched on the floor. He held nothing back as he kicked the woman in the head. Lithuania tried, she really did, to hold back her cry of pain but couldn’t bite her tongue fast enough. There was still some fight left in her though. She proudly showed this by glaring up at Russia, even as stars danced in her vision and nausea settled in her stomach. This just angered the large man, his sharpening and cold glare making him even more terrifying. He placed his foot on her left hand, applying a generous amount of pressure swiftly until a disgustingly audible cracking noise filled the air.

For just a moment Lithuania’s eyes widened a fraction in shock before she couldn’t stop herself from screaming out as the chilling pain coursed through her.

Behind him, Belarus could hear Latvia let out a surprised – possibly horrified – gasp followed swiftly by the sound of skin lightly hitting skin; Estonia had quickly covered Latvia’s mouth and was shushing him with a gently breathy whisper of, “Hush, Raivis. Elena will be okay.”

But when Russia pulled his hand gun out, Estonia swiftly pulled his younger brother face first into his chest and covered the smaller nation’s ears before squeezing his own eyes shut, a couple small tears escaping from the corners of his eyes as he did so.

Poland swiftly turned away, face to the wall and eyes squeezed just as tightly closed as Estonia’s, and tried to keep the tears from leaking through as Russia shot Lithuania right in the center of her forehead.

Lithuania barely had time to do more than open her mouth in a silent scream, eyes wide, before her world went dark.

Russia ignored the gasps and shocked screams from the audience of gathered nations as well as his sister’s crying. He just simply turned the safety on his gun back on before returning the handgun back to his coat pocket once more.

“Estonia. Poland. Why don’t you two clean this mess,” Russia commanded more than asked before picking Lithuania’s body up from the floor. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind what the mess was and Belarus even had to admit it was somewhat cruel of his brother to have Lithuania’s brother and ex-lover clean her blood from the floor. Russia wasn’t surprised whatsoever that Lithuania was still warm in his arms and not heavy by any means. In fact, he seemed completely unbothered by the blood that was quickly staining not only his hands and Lithuania’s hair, but their clothes as well.

“Excuse me, little brother,” Russia said, standing right in front of Belarus but not looking him in the eye. Rather, Russia stared past Belarus, expressionless, but everyone gathered could feel the eerie chill in the air.

Though Lithuania was physically dead, everyone knew that Russia wasn’t done punishing her for not only physically assaulting him but for her treasonous words. And no one wanted to even imagine what dark terrors Russia had in mind for Lithuania once she woke back up.

Belarus felt far too frozen to move as he stared down at the body in his brother’s arms. Lithuania’s eyes were still wide open and staring blankly, unseeingly, at him and he felt himself tremble ever so slightly. It was only because of Poland tugging him back a step that Belarus was able to move out of his brother’s way. He watched as his brother walked away, Lithuania’s blood drip dropping an ugly red trail after them.

Belarus was not new to seeing nations die. He’d caused a few deaths himself during wars. But this time felt different for him. As injured as he’d seen Lithuania in the past – and he’d seen her very injured and close to the brink of dying before him – she had never physically died in front of him. So he couldn’t help but to feel shocked, and almost afraid even, at seeing her shot by none other than his brother at point blank.

Lithuania used to be so formidable. She’d been an empire in her own right that had fought head to head with Prussia and come out on top quite often when so many others had failed. Yet here she was now – a prisoner forced into servitude, dead, and carried away in the arms of his brother.

Belarus was shaken from his thoughts, quite literally, by Poland. “ You should go back to whatever it was that you were doing. ”

For a moment all Belarus could do was blink and stare blankly at Poland. Then he seemed to really focus and see Poland and hear him. “ Get your hands off of me, idiot, ” Belarus snapped, jerking away from Poland’s hands. He was such a mix of emotions – loyalty to his brother, fear of his brother, fear for Lithuania, anger at Lithuania, hatred for Poland, and something else that he wasn’t sure what it was – that he didn’t realize that he had instinctively responded to Poland in Polish.

Annoyingly enough, Poland doesn’t seem phased by Belarus’s hostility but rather resigned to the attitude as it had been something he had dealt with for years upon years once before. The way that Poland calmly stared at Belarus with understanding did nothing but annoy Belarus even more.

So Belarus just turned sharply and made his way back to the library. It would only be many hours later while staring at a book’s pages would Belarus realize that he’d slipped into speaking Polish earlier. He slammed the book closed and shoved it back into its home on the shelf before storming to his bedroom.

No one is awake when he makes the detour to Lithuania’s bedroom so he doesn’t have to worry about being seen or deny that he even made the detour in the first place. But a seed of despair settles into the pit of his stomach as he sees the bedroom – now spotlessly clean with not even a pinprick of blood being seen – empty of all life.

‘She’s with big brother then,’ Belarus thought to himself, willing the worry away as he made his way back down the hall to his own bedroom. His bedroom was next to his brother’s with Ukraine’s being right across the hall from his. He willed himself to steady his breathing and push memories of being a child away.

But the moment that he slips into unconsciousness, he couldn’t control the road of memories that his mind traveled down as he lay in bed, eyes closing as he drifted into a fitful sleep.

Belarus was young, lost and alone. He had been with his older sister and brother and then suddenly, they were no longer there. So when it began to snow the young nation felt as though it was General Winter’s way of ending his existence. Though Belarus was young, he had felt and seen many people succumb to the General’s harsh chill. So with one last sigh and harsh shiver, he closed his eyes and waited for General Winter’s cold hiss of death. To his surprise, when he next opened his eyes, he was no longer in the snow but a warm room in a comfortable bed and he wasn’t alone for much longer.

“Oh!” A girl exclaimed before grinning sheepishly as she entered the warm bedroom that he was in. “You’re awake, good!” She said in relief, though Belarus couldn’t understand what it was that she said. He knew his own language and understood better than he spoke the languages belonging to his siblings. He knew the language of the Mongols, not that he understood it, just that he knew the sound of it. But this new language spoken by this girl, he had no clue what she was saying.

She was young, perhaps only his brother’s physical age. Much like his brother though, this girl gave the feeling as though she were much older than she actually was, leading Belarus to wonder if she was like him, his siblings, and Mongolia.

Belarus blinked and the next time that he was opening his eyes he was standing behind the girl, now physically older than a mere twelve years old but still looking humanly young, as she fixed her hair into a perfect braid.

“I don’t understand why you want to stay here with him,” Belarus sneered, gesturing with his head to the door as if Poland were there instead.

Lithuania sighed, a small sad smile forming on her exhausted looking face, “Because even though he may push me around and test my will, he’s still a dear friend, Nikolai.” Lithuania turned away from the mirror to face the younger nation. “How do I look?”

Belarus felt his ears warm slightly as he took in the sight of Lithuania in her very much Lithuanian and definitely not a Polish dress, her hair done, and a bright grin on her face. He snorted and looked away. “You look fine.” The words, ‘you look beautiful’ or even ‘perfect’, not leaving his mouth.

She hummed appreciatively and brushed a soft kiss onto his forehead.

When he turned to look at her though, he was staring at a thick wooden door and trying to get just a peek into Poland’s office. He could hear Poland yelling, hear his brother laughing with no humor, and Lithuania saying nothing.

“You can’t take her!” Poland yelled. Belarus felt a shiver go down his back. There was no question in his mind who ‘her’ was; Lithuania. And he couldn’t help but to wonder to himself, ‘ why does big brother want Elena ?’

Russia laughed with no humor, just a bitter cold. “I can and I am. We are leaving in a few hours. It’s already been decided by all of our leaders. And you know as well as I that we follow their will.”

There was the sound of glass breaking and Belarus could only assume that Poland had thrown something.

“Feliks!” Lithuania admonished.

“Take your annoying little brother!” Poland yelled, ignoring his partner. “But leave her alone!”

Belarus’s eyes widened. He had known that Poland didn’t particularly care for him on a personal level but to hear him so boldly throw it out, and to his big brother’s face no less, was rather shocking. Even more shocking was the sound of skin slapping skin and Poland letting out a yelp in equal halves of shock and pain.

“Elena?” Poland asked.

Belarus’s eyes widened slightly as he realized that Lithuania must have slapped Poland. And for him; she was defending him!

While Russia let out a surprised gleeful giggle, no doubt very amused by the emotional display before him.

Lithuania glared at Poland. “He is not going anywhere,” she hissed out sternly, eyes full of a raging inferno. She turned to glare up at Russia now and the large man quickly stopped laughing. “If it has already been decided by our leaders then I have no choice. I’ll be ready to go soon but let me pack first.” She didn’t give him a chance to respond and Belarus quickly but stealthily turned to go back to his room.

A cold splash of water jerked him awake and he spluttered in horror. Then glared coldly as he came to see Poland standing above him with a bucket in hand and tears rolling from how hard he was laughing at Belarus’s shock. “Ahh! You should see your stupid face!” Poland laughed, wiping tears from his eyes.

“I hate you so fucking much!” Belarus rubbed at his eyes and once again he couldn’t help but to think hateful things about Lithuania for leaving him with Poland and hurtful things about his brother for wanting Lithuania over him.

When he finished rubbing the water from his eyes, he had to blink rapidly a few times as he was momentarily blinded by bright lights reflecting in crystals. He looked around, slightly nervous for some reason, until his eyes landed on her. She was standing with her back to him but Belarus still knew that it was Lithuania.

Her hair was pulled into an extravagant updo with rubies and sapphires adorning her hair, glimmering in the lights. Her dress a creamy ivory color with an even creamier colored floral stitching design around the dress and a sapphire sash tied elegantly around her. Even from across the room Belarus knew that though the coloring of her wardrobe would seem casual, she was quite purposefully adorned in his brother’s colors; white, blue, and red. He shoved the thought of replacing the sapphires with emeralds deep into the depths of his mind and purposefully made his way across the room in order to ask her for a dance.

At first, Lithuania sighed, ready to tell another Russian noble that no, she would not care for a dance, but froze when she saw Belarus. Then a bright grin spread across her face and she had to stop herself from throwing her arms around the no-longer-a-little-boy of a nation. “Kolya! I didn’t know that you were here!” The words ‘I didn’t realize that Feliks would allow you to come’, unsaid but Belarus knew what she meant.

Belarus smirked slightly. “It wasn’t easy, that’s for sure.” He looked her over once more and hoped he wasn’t as red as he felt as he said, “You look … healthy.”

Lithuania made a face but thanked him nonetheless. And when Belarus asked if she’d like to dance, she smiled warmly and took his hand with hers — now smaller than his own and really, how shocking was this?

Lithuania made sure to note it audibly as well. “You must be growing under Poland really well. You’re so much taller!”

Belarus frowned at the mention of Poland, he felt that his success as a growing nation was due to him, not that idiot! But he nodded all the same. “Stronger too,” he continued, squeezing her hand and hip slightly before releasing to the normal hold that was acceptable for a ballroom dance.

Lithuania laughed softly but whatever words she was going to say next were lost to eternity as Russia tapped on his brother’s shoulder.

“Ah, Kolyushka, I am so glad Feliks brought you!” The imperial nation stated with a bright grin. “Would it be alright if I stole Elenusha for a dance?”

If it had been anyone other than his brother, Belarus would have given them a glare so cold that Siberia’s harsh winters would be preferable. As it were though, it was his brother and Belarus held far too much respect for him to deny a request that was clearly more order than actual request.

So he nodded, “Of course, braton.” Then allowed Lithuania’s hand to slide from his own and into Russia’s.

He turns so that he doesn’t have to see Lithuania – the once so powerful and strong Lithuania – look like nothing more than a doll in his brother’s arms.

Belarus jolted awake suddenly, sitting up in a sweat and his heart racing like thunder in both his chest and ears. He sighed softly as he allowed himself to crash back against his pillows. He stared up at the ceiling, the sun’s early rays casting light into his bedroom. It had been so long since he had allowed himself to wander down memory lane and though he had been asleep and unable to control the path in which his thoughts had unwillingly taken him, he felt somewhat reminiscent of some of the past moments that he had shared with Lithuania.

He forced himself out of bed and convinces himself that since the sun is rising, he should get a headstart on the day. And if he just so happened to walk past Lithuania’s bedroom a handful of times throughout the day, it was just because her bedroom was between him and whatever his destination was at that particular time.

He tried not to shudder as he realized he hadn’t seen hide nor hair of elder brother either.

In fact, it was nearly a full week later before Belarus happened to see Lithuania.

~oOo~

A week later...

It was late at night and he couldn’t sleep, so he found himself wandering the halls of his brother’s large mansion, mindful to avoid certain spots in the halls and stairs where the wood would creak loudly. He was halfway down the hall where Lithuania’s bedroom was when he noticed a light coming straight from her bedroom accompanied by the hushed murmur of whispers.

He moved forward slowly, careful to not make any noise and alert the people within the bedroom.

“You’re so stupid!” Poland whisper-yelled, and Belarus could hear the floor boards creaking, alerting him to the fact that Poland was clearly pacing as he ranted.

Belarus scowled; ‘Of course he’s going to be the first to know Lithuania is back,’ he thought, clenching one fist.

Within the bedroom Poland was indeed pacing, looking a mix between stressed, relieved, and angry. “You didn’t even want to convert!” He hissed out, tossing the old silver cross and rosary back at his ex-wife’s chest. “And you let Russia kill you for that thing?!”

Lithuania snorted softly and tightly held the old cross that Poland had gifted her more than three hundred years ago tightly in her hand. “I didn’t let Russia do anything. He just did it,” she stated, choosing to ignore the fact that Poland was right. At the beginning of their unification – marriage – she had not wanted to convert to Christianity.

Poland groaned in frustration. “Why though? You didn’t even want to convert,” he repeated in exasperation. “I didn’t even know you still had that thing,” he said much softer. Kindly.

Lithuania looked down at the rosary in her hands, rubbing her thumb over the figure of Jesus on the cross. The chain was silver and there were golden colored beads along it. She shrugged, a small sad smile gracing her lips. “I don’t even know. I suppose because Russia has already taken so much from me – all of us, really – that I didn’t want to lose this too.”

Outside of the bedroom, Belarus scowled at the insult to his elder brother. How dare the other two nations insult Russia when Russia was allowing them the privilege and honor of living in his home! Internally, deep deep down, Belarus couldn’t help but agree with Poland and Lithuania. His brother had taken much from them, imposed rules and regulations, censored so much. But his loyalism towards his brother wouldn’t allow for those traitorous thoughts to take root and blossom.

Lithuania yawned followed by a tired sigh of, “I am tired, Feliks. I need to sleep.”

Poland looked ready to argue with the woman but thought better of it as he looked her over. She had dark rings under her eyes and bruises littering various parts of her body that he could see. He didn’t even want to think about how she looked underneath her clothing. So the Polish representative just nodded. Belarus scowled as he heard Poland press a kiss to Lithuania’s forehead with a soft, tenderly spoken, “ Saldžių sapnų, mielasis .”

Belarus quietly but quickly stormed away from the bedroom and back to his, thoughts of ‘ never should have come this way ,’ echoing in his mind. It was not the first time he had heard Poland give Lithuania a tender and warm greeting or farewell. And it was far from the first time that he had heard the other two nations share sweet and secret pet names spared only for one another. But it still never failed to awaken something in Belarus; disgust? Anger? … jealousy?

Saldžių sapnų… Saldžių sapnų… Saldžių sapnų…

The words replayed and echoed in Belarus’s ears as he made his way swiftly back to his own bedroom and readied for bed. The tone of the voice rapidly changed from Poland’s harshly accented Lithuanian into Lithuania’s own honey-sweet voice as he fell into slumber.

Saldžių sapnų… Saldžių sapnų…

“Saldžių sapnų, Nikolai,” a young Lithuania whispered, pressing a kiss to an equally young Belarus’s cheek.

For quite some time, Belarus had lived in Lithuania’s house, quite contently in fact. Of course he had missed his elder siblings and longed for that closeness with them but until then, he was happy with Lithuania. Though, his current disposition would say otherwise.

He scowled down at the cloth that he was carefully embroidering. The rushnyk was white with bright red embroidered flowers – rue and common flax flowers to be exact – on each end. His elder sister had taught both him and Russia how to embroider the cloths. He could even remember her steadying both his and Russia’s hands and gently correcting them as she told them that the rushnyk was special cloth for precious ceremonies.

Like weddings.

Something that Lithuania would soon be doing as her duke met with Poland’s king and the two mortals readied for their wedding. A wedding that was only a handful of days away now.

This wedding between her and Poland annoyed Belarus for reasons he couldn’t place a name to; disgust? Anger? Jealousy, perhaps? He wasn’t entirely sure but he hissed in equal halves annoyance and pain as he pricked his finger, clumsy with his embroidery work. He shoved thoughts of Lithuania marrying Poland away and focused on completing the embroidery of the rushnyk. Soon enough he was finished with the cloth and, paying no mind to the time, he decided to gift it to his dear friend at that very moment.

Within moments he was knocking on the large wooden door to Lithuania’s bedroom. It took only five seconds before Lithuania was opening the door. She looked exhausted with dark gray bags under her eyes and her hair slipping from its careful braid that she normally wore it in. It wasn’t until Belarus really took in the sight of her in her white linen night-gown that he truly realized the time.

Lithuania, to her kindness, didn’t point out either his red flushed face or the late hour. Rather focusing on the fact that he was at her bedroom door and looking quite uncomfortable. “Nikolai? Are you alright?” She asked, concern lacing her voice.

Belarus just barely managed to stop himself from physically shaking his head and instead said, “Yes! I brought you something. A gift.” He didn’t wait for the words to fully register to the clearly exhausted young woman but just thrust the rushnyk out for Lithuania to take.

Lithuania blinked slowly, brows furrowing slightly as she stared in confusion at the cloth. Slowly she reached out and took it. A bright grin quickly spread across her face as she held up the cloth. “Oh, Kolya, it’s beautiful! Did you make this?” She breathed out, warmth and adoration in her tone and eyes.

Belarus flushed but felt himself stand straighter in pride. “Yes. It’s a gift.” He pursed his lips slightly but quickly spat out, “For your wedding.”

Lithuania’s expression became even more gentle as she looked between the rushnyk and Belarus. She quickly threw her arms around the young nation’s neck and held him tightly. “Thank you. I love it,” she said, grinning genuinely for the first time in what felt like ages.

Belarus flushed, unsure as to where to place his hands – should they stay by his side? Wrap them around Lithuania’s waist? Pull her close and hold her tight? He left his arms rigidly by his sides and just shrugged. “I’m glad.”

The days trailed by in a gray haze for Lithuania. She would wake up each morning before the sun’s first rays had even kissed the skies hello, quickly dress – always in a Russian dress, never one of her own traditional dresses – and head to the kitchens to help Ukraine, Hungary, and Czechia prepare breakfast for the household. Russia was nothing if not traditional; he wanted the women in the house to cook and clean while the men tended to the heavy duty aspects of the household.

This didn’t mean that the roles stayed segregated based on their genders. Oftentimes, Lithuania would swap chores with Latvia, her youngest brother, as the boy nation was far too small in her opinion to be doing many of the chores that Russia had set aside for him.

But this particular morning began like any other with Lithuania being the first to the kitchen. She prepared eggs and the buckwheat kasha before Ukraine and Hungary made their way to help her. Soon enough the three had the table set with black bread and tea ready for each person in the mansion. Ukraine prepared plates for her brothers, ensuring that both men had a decent amount on their plates; he hardly had anything on her own.

Lithuania couldn’t judge her though as she did the exact same thing. Every meal she took care to make sure that Latvia and Estonia had enough food.

She moved throughout the day in her typical rhythm. Dishes were washed, dried, and put away. Then she moved on to laundry since it was a beautiful and sunny day. With young Czech’s help and the girl muttering under her breath about detesting chores, the two were able to strip everyone’s beds and get to washing the bed linens before re-dressing the beds.

Lithuania took care to tuck the sheets in tightly for each bed, though her fingers seemed to linger on certain beds and memories and thoughts she’d thought she’d locked away came flooding back.

Estonia’s and Latvia’s – the three had once been such young, small, children. Cuddled together to keep warm. Always so close. Little Latvia tucked gently between his elder siblings who kept a protective hold on him.

Poland’s – she couldn’t stop her memories of the two being young and sharing a bed for the first time after his king and her duke had married. How they had been so awkward together those first several times. And the many, many, hundreds of times afterwards of their innocent and not so innocent times tucked together, legs intertwined, hands clasped tightly, her head resting on his warm chest. His hands playing with her chocolate colored hair.

Russia’s – sometimes, not always, but sometimes he could be so kind. So gentle. He had always seemed so lonely. She would never say it out loud but she pitied the large nation. She remembered being with him in the 1800’s. How they’d shared a bed more times than she’d care to admit. Times she never told anyone, not even Poland, about. How he’d treated her so gently in his bed, held her hand tightly, not to hurt her but just to be close, as he moaned out the wrong name; “ Amelia… ” and if she had moaned out the wrong name too, well… neither nation mentioned the mishaps come morning. It was their secret.

Belarus’s – being so young and tucking together, not only to keep warm but to remind each other that they weren’t alone. The memories, still hazy and cloudy after so much time, of their drunk wedding night together. His hot breath, heavy with the smell of sharp vodka, raspy against her neck. Scratching down his back as he moved above her in ways that weren’t new to her body but were brand new for the two of them. “ Meilė ,” Belarus had breathed out, teeth lightly nipping at her ear. His accented Lithuanian sending shivers down the woman’s spine.

She quickly moved on to the next chore at hand. Sweeping and mopping the mansion was always a headache. As was dusting. She wasn’t finished with the household cleaning until Ukraine and Hungary were nearly finished cooking. Shchi and pelmeni with the typical black bread, sour cream, and tea. After dinner, it was Lithuania’s chore to clear the table and do the dishes as Ukraine and Hungary had prepared dinner.

By the time Lithuania finally made it to her bedroom for the night, she was bone tired and just exhausted. So tired that she didn’t notice the light on in her bedroom until she had already opened the door. The last person she had expected to see was Belarus in her bedroom, standing near her dresser, the top drawer open and clothes half in, half out of it. In one hand he held the rosary that Poland had gifted her so long ago. In the other was the rushnyk that he had made for her and Poland’s wedding.

For a moment neither said anything. Lithuania quickly closed the door, not wanting to risk anyone seeing the scene that was bound to take place.

“Belarus! I…” Lithuania trailed off, not entirely sure what to say as she wasn’t entirely sure how Belarus was feeling about holding her personal items. She’d lost the skill of reading the other nation long, long way. Far before their wedding in the early years of the 1900’s.

“I wasn’t aware you still had this,” Belarus said in an almost bored tone as he held up the rushnyk, fabric turning brown with age and fraying. Belarus scoffed, tossing the fabric to the floor so that it landed in a crumpled pile between them. “I suppose I shouldn’t be too surprised. You were eager to marry that half-witted Pol,” Belarus sneered.

Lithuania raised an eyebrow briefly at Belarus’s tone but quickly decided that it would be best to ignore Belarus’s petty hate for Poland. She instead moved forward and leaned down to pick up the rushnyk between her hands. “I have ours, too,” she whispered, tracing the old floral embroidery. She wasn't sure why she felt the need to assure the other nation of this fact but she felt deep down that it was something that he needed to know. Needed to hear.

Belarus rolled his eyes, not really catching the woman’s words. “What are you muttering about?”

Lithuania stood straight, the rushnyk in her hands. “I have ours. From our wedding.” She stepped forward towards her closet, ignoring how Belarus practically hissed at her and stepped in the opposite direction as though she were toxic. She rummaged around in her closet until she found a wooden box with swirling designs painted all over it. She opened the box and moved various pieces of jewelry and aged documents and portraits around until she found the cloth that she was looking for.

She exchanged it for the old cloth, picking it up carefully, as though afraid that it would fall apart in her hands. Though this cloth was not nearly as old as the one that Belarus had embroidered for her. She handed it to Belarus, their fingertips grazing one another as he took the cloth that Ukraine had gifted for them the day they’d married.

Their wedding was not Catholic as her and Poland’s had been. Nor was it Orthodox. Not even pagan as she had so long ago wanted her first union to be. There was no place for religion in their new world order under communism. They had held hands, Belarus’s larger hand holding her smaller hands tightly, and exchanged simple golden bands onto their right ring fingers, and exchanged vows.

Belarus's expression was guarded but with the way that his shoulders had drooped forward ever so slightly and his thumbs carefully traced the embroidered flowers, Lithuania knew that he too was reminiscing their wedding day.

‘Possibly even our wedding night,’ Lithuania wondered. She felt her ears grow warm as she remembered them both being agitated at their forced union. How they had celebrated by drinking vodka with Ukraine and Russia. How once she and Belarus were left alone they were both far too gone in drunk hazes. When she’d made him laugh, him kissing her had only felt natural. The loss of clothing and heat of their bodies pressed close to one another had felt even more right. Waking in the morning though…

“Why do you even have this?” Belarus scoffed, shoving it into Lithuania’s chest. “It means nothing. Just as those seven months mean absolutely nothing to me.” He stormed out of her bedroom, the rosary tossed to the floor as though it too were garbage.

Lithuania frowned, bottom lip pressed tightly between her teeth in an attempt to stop herself from expressing the emotions she felt ready to burst from within her. Carefully she picked up the rosary, holding it tightly.

The rosary was a reminder of when she and Poland had formed their union. Their great commonwealth.

The first rushnyk was her most treasured piece of history. A gift from a precious friend during a time when she had been most displaced and felt as though she were drowning as her people were threatened with the encroaching Teutonic Knights or conversion from the union she hadn’t wanted to be in.

The second rushnyk though, was nothing short of being one of the most confusing times of her long life. She and Belarus had formed their union against either of their wills but against all odds, she had felt as though she had found a missing piece of her own heart and soul in him. She had felt as though they were closer than they had ever been before. Her wedding dress was still in a wooden box beneath the floorboards of her house in Vilnius in fact. Along with their matching rings.

With a heavy sigh and equally heavy heart, Lithuania folded the rushnyk back into a small square shape so that it would fit once more into the wooden box in her closet. One last longing look at the box and the closet door closed with a quiet snap.