Fic: The Importance of Symbolism
Pairing: Poland/Lithuania
Rating: G
Warnings: Countries. Personified.
Teaser:
Author's Notes: My first full Hetalia fic not written for the kink meme. I scribbled most of this down on scraps of paper during my lunch break at work, because after reading the little tidbit of information in the historical notes, the idea wouldn't go away.
By the way- if you don't like countries being personified? Steer clear.
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The Importance of Symbolism
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“See? It’s, like, totally awesome.” Poland tipped the shield forward to display it to better effect, holding it earnestly in two pale hands. “I mean it, Liet- the Teutonic Knights are gonna be way scared. If you saw this thing coming at you, you’d totally run away, right?”
Lithuania considered it for a moment, mouth turned down at the corners and brow furrowed in thought, wondering whether the thing attached to the shield could possibly be what he thought it was. When he decided that there really was no other possibility, he tried on a diplomatic smile. "It’s very- large,” he agreed dubiously. “But I’m not entirely sure that it’s frightening.”
He stared at Poland’s shield again, willing it to suddenly make sense. It did not.
“Actually,” he added reluctantly, a portion of him as yet unsure whether he really wanted to know, “I can’t say that I’m very clear on why you have an eagle on your shield in the first place.”
“Well, duh.” From somewhere beneath his cloak, Poland produced a stick of paluszki and began to munch on it, casually. “It’s, like, my symbol or something. Just like you’ve got that guy on a horse. It’s way hot for morale to put your symbols on stuff.”
Lithuania did not lift his eyes from the shield. He felt, ridiculously, that if he looked away, it would somehow become worse- bigger, or more flamboyant, or in some way less practical, though he was hard pressed to imagine how. “But usually they’re painted on, you know. The symbols.”
“That’s what I said, too!” the little blonde agreed, and brandished his snack like a sword, the motion a rush of cheery enthusiasm. “But then I was all, ‘There's gotta be something better than paint.’ And oh my god, the answer just like, came to me.”
He had spent enough time with Poland, during the years when they had been much smaller, that he did not have to search his partner’s face to see whether it was a joke. There was an earnestness that came with the other nation's more unreasonable ideas that could leave no doubt as to that. “And so you thought,” Lithuania surmised quietly, in a voice that did a very reasonable job, he thought, of keeping the disbelief at bay, “that it would be best to put a whole eagle on top of your shield.”
“It’s wicked cool, right?” Poland finished eating, casually licked the crumbs from his fingertips, and grinned, pride and self-satisfaction giving his face a fox-like quality.
When his partner pressed the shield toward him, Lithuania took it with reluctant hands- immediately felt it tip forward, unbalanced, with the weight of the bird. “You stuffed it?” he asked uncertainly, and stroked a finger along one of the folded wings. The eagle’s glass eyes watched him do it, gleaming blankly in the sockets, and Lithuania looked up just in time to see his partner’s enthusiastic nod.
“I, like, got someone else to.” From beneath the cloak came another stick of paluszki, and Poland got most of this one in his mouth in a single bite, proceeding to talk around it uninterrupted. "But it’s totally the same, right?
Lithuania did not grant that a reply, instead running a finger over the bird’s feet with a grimace. “Did you really have to nail it on?”
“Oh my god, Liet. Like I’d have used nails if something else would’ve worked? Duh. It’s totally not cool if you can see them.” The rest of the snack vanished into Poland’s mouth, and he chewed briefly- swallowed. “So at first I was all like, ‘It’s way better if you dunno how it’s on there. It’ll look, like, natural or something.’”
Lithuania examined the foot closely- took in the clumsy way the rough iron had been driven in. It was plain that this part, at least, Poland had done himself. “And that didn’t work?” he found himself asking faintly.
“Jeez- hold on, I’m getting there. You're way pushy today.” A third paluszki appeared to follow the others, crunching loudly. “So I was thinking and at first I was all, 'It's gonna suck, like, majorly with the nails.' So I totally tried that stuff you make cake with-”
“Flour? Eggs?” Lithuania’s mind tried to force itself into his partner’s version of logic, sifted sand uselessly for several heartbeats before striking gold. “Honey?”
“-yeah, that. But it totally wasn’t sticky enough and I got feathers, like, everywhere.” Poland finished eating and reached to take back the shield, oblivious to the incredulity and unease that his words were beginning to cause. “So I did the nails, cause there like, wasn’t any other way. And y'know? It's, like, totally fine. You so can't even see them.”
There was a silence that lasted longer than it ought to have gone on. It was a deep silence. It was a silence prompted more by the sudden conviction on Lithuania’s part that the honey would have to be thrown out than the reason to which Poland attributed it: naked admiration.
“Poland,” he tried at last. “Have you used the shield yet?”
“Nah.” Poland rapped on the object in question with his knuckles, grinning narrowly, half-lidded eyes alight with triumph. “But it’ll be way awesome, for sure. I keep, like, picturing that guy’s face. It’s gonna be totally hilarious.”
“Well, yes.” The words came slowly, as though Lithuania were drawing them one by one from a bag. “But it is awfully heavy, you know. And an eagle isn't exactly the easiest thing to- well, to balance." He paused, giving that time to sink in, watched the little blonde's face to see whether the words were making any impact. "You don’t think it might be a bit difficult to fight with?”
“It’s gonna be fine, Liet. You’re like, pretty strong, right? And I totally kick ass.” Poland stroked the dead bird along one wing, as though it was a favorite pet. “You worry, like, way too much.”
“Let’s test it first, at least.” The smile on Lithuania’s lips had been strained already, but now it grew tense as well, brow lowering worriedly. “Here- I’ll go and get your armor, all right? We can go a few sparring rounds, just to be sure.”
He had actually turned around to do just that- had taken three steps back toward their house when the sound of hooves approaching at a gallop caught his ears. He froze, shoulders tight and eyes wide, thoughts racing along a path that convinced them, briefly, that nobody’s luck could possibly be that bad.
But certain enough, the cry of alarm rose up from the gates: “The Teutonic Knights!” And Lithuania closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reached for his sword.
In the end, Poland was right about one thing: the expression on the face of their opponent when he caught sight of the shield most certainly had something to do with hilarity.
Historical Notes: During the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, one of the identifying characteristics of hussar armor was the decorative bird wings adorning it. In the mid to late 1500's, however, real bird wings were used to decorate the shields, and one account notes hussars struggling with the weight of a whole stuffed eagle.
Rating: G
Warnings: Countries. Personified.
Teaser:
Author's Notes: My first full Hetalia fic not written for the kink meme. I scribbled most of this down on scraps of paper during my lunch break at work, because after reading the little tidbit of information in the historical notes, the idea wouldn't go away.
By the way- if you don't like countries being personified? Steer clear.
=====
The Importance of Symbolism
=====
“See? It’s, like, totally awesome.” Poland tipped the shield forward to display it to better effect, holding it earnestly in two pale hands. “I mean it, Liet- the Teutonic Knights are gonna be way scared. If you saw this thing coming at you, you’d totally run away, right?”
Lithuania considered it for a moment, mouth turned down at the corners and brow furrowed in thought, wondering whether the thing attached to the shield could possibly be what he thought it was. When he decided that there really was no other possibility, he tried on a diplomatic smile. "It’s very- large,” he agreed dubiously. “But I’m not entirely sure that it’s frightening.”
He stared at Poland’s shield again, willing it to suddenly make sense. It did not.
“Actually,” he added reluctantly, a portion of him as yet unsure whether he really wanted to know, “I can’t say that I’m very clear on why you have an eagle on your shield in the first place.”
“Well, duh.” From somewhere beneath his cloak, Poland produced a stick of paluszki and began to munch on it, casually. “It’s, like, my symbol or something. Just like you’ve got that guy on a horse. It’s way hot for morale to put your symbols on stuff.”
Lithuania did not lift his eyes from the shield. He felt, ridiculously, that if he looked away, it would somehow become worse- bigger, or more flamboyant, or in some way less practical, though he was hard pressed to imagine how. “But usually they’re painted on, you know. The symbols.”
“That’s what I said, too!” the little blonde agreed, and brandished his snack like a sword, the motion a rush of cheery enthusiasm. “But then I was all, ‘There's gotta be something better than paint.’ And oh my god, the answer just like, came to me.”
He had spent enough time with Poland, during the years when they had been much smaller, that he did not have to search his partner’s face to see whether it was a joke. There was an earnestness that came with the other nation's more unreasonable ideas that could leave no doubt as to that. “And so you thought,” Lithuania surmised quietly, in a voice that did a very reasonable job, he thought, of keeping the disbelief at bay, “that it would be best to put a whole eagle on top of your shield.”
“It’s wicked cool, right?” Poland finished eating, casually licked the crumbs from his fingertips, and grinned, pride and self-satisfaction giving his face a fox-like quality.
When his partner pressed the shield toward him, Lithuania took it with reluctant hands- immediately felt it tip forward, unbalanced, with the weight of the bird. “You stuffed it?” he asked uncertainly, and stroked a finger along one of the folded wings. The eagle’s glass eyes watched him do it, gleaming blankly in the sockets, and Lithuania looked up just in time to see his partner’s enthusiastic nod.
“I, like, got someone else to.” From beneath the cloak came another stick of paluszki, and Poland got most of this one in his mouth in a single bite, proceeding to talk around it uninterrupted. "But it’s totally the same, right?
Lithuania did not grant that a reply, instead running a finger over the bird’s feet with a grimace. “Did you really have to nail it on?”
“Oh my god, Liet. Like I’d have used nails if something else would’ve worked? Duh. It’s totally not cool if you can see them.” The rest of the snack vanished into Poland’s mouth, and he chewed briefly- swallowed. “So at first I was all like, ‘It’s way better if you dunno how it’s on there. It’ll look, like, natural or something.’”
Lithuania examined the foot closely- took in the clumsy way the rough iron had been driven in. It was plain that this part, at least, Poland had done himself. “And that didn’t work?” he found himself asking faintly.
“Jeez- hold on, I’m getting there. You're way pushy today.” A third paluszki appeared to follow the others, crunching loudly. “So I was thinking and at first I was all, 'It's gonna suck, like, majorly with the nails.' So I totally tried that stuff you make cake with-”
“Flour? Eggs?” Lithuania’s mind tried to force itself into his partner’s version of logic, sifted sand uselessly for several heartbeats before striking gold. “Honey?”
“-yeah, that. But it totally wasn’t sticky enough and I got feathers, like, everywhere.” Poland finished eating and reached to take back the shield, oblivious to the incredulity and unease that his words were beginning to cause. “So I did the nails, cause there like, wasn’t any other way. And y'know? It's, like, totally fine. You so can't even see them.”
There was a silence that lasted longer than it ought to have gone on. It was a deep silence. It was a silence prompted more by the sudden conviction on Lithuania’s part that the honey would have to be thrown out than the reason to which Poland attributed it: naked admiration.
“Poland,” he tried at last. “Have you used the shield yet?”
“Nah.” Poland rapped on the object in question with his knuckles, grinning narrowly, half-lidded eyes alight with triumph. “But it’ll be way awesome, for sure. I keep, like, picturing that guy’s face. It’s gonna be totally hilarious.”
“Well, yes.” The words came slowly, as though Lithuania were drawing them one by one from a bag. “But it is awfully heavy, you know. And an eagle isn't exactly the easiest thing to- well, to balance." He paused, giving that time to sink in, watched the little blonde's face to see whether the words were making any impact. "You don’t think it might be a bit difficult to fight with?”
“It’s gonna be fine, Liet. You’re like, pretty strong, right? And I totally kick ass.” Poland stroked the dead bird along one wing, as though it was a favorite pet. “You worry, like, way too much.”
“Let’s test it first, at least.” The smile on Lithuania’s lips had been strained already, but now it grew tense as well, brow lowering worriedly. “Here- I’ll go and get your armor, all right? We can go a few sparring rounds, just to be sure.”
He had actually turned around to do just that- had taken three steps back toward their house when the sound of hooves approaching at a gallop caught his ears. He froze, shoulders tight and eyes wide, thoughts racing along a path that convinced them, briefly, that nobody’s luck could possibly be that bad.
But certain enough, the cry of alarm rose up from the gates: “The Teutonic Knights!” And Lithuania closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and reached for his sword.
In the end, Poland was right about one thing: the expression on the face of their opponent when he caught sight of the shield most certainly had something to do with hilarity.
Historical Notes: During the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth, one of the identifying characteristics of hussar armor was the decorative bird wings adorning it. In the mid to late 1500's, however, real bird wings were used to decorate the shields, and one account notes hussars struggling with the weight of a whole stuffed eagle.