[Fic] Her Smile
Title: Her Smile
Characters/pairing(s): Hungary/Ukraine, Russia cameoing
Rating: PG-13 for makeouts
Gifter: madelineusher
Giftee: irohfancier
Hungary always dreads the trips to Russia’s house. They’re meant to encourage bonding between the satellite nations and the states of the USSR, but in truth all they are is an exercise in boredom, frustration, and anger. She wants to be at home, with her people, not in this overlarge house that Russia has filled with the nations he treats like possessions.
She’s heading back from yet another painful ‘conversation’ with Russia when she hears the noises of crying down a side corridor.
For a moment she debates just moving on and ignoring it - the Baltics are not her concerns, and she has enough burdens on her own shoulders - but she’s never been able to quite rid herself of certain mothering instincts, and so instead she makes her way down the corridor, following the sound.
It’s easy enough to find the source. The door to the small room is still open, and inside Russia’s older sister - Ukraine - is perched on the edge of a small bed, sobbing into her hands, her shoulders shaking and heaving. Hungary barely knows the woman, but every time she’s seen her before, Ukraine has been smiling, if weakly. The tears are new.
“Are you alright?” Hungary asks quietly, stepping further into the sparse bedroom. It’s not her place to intrude, but she has to admit that she’s worried.
Ukraine jerks her head up to look at Hungary, eyes wide and tear-filled, but finally she raises one sleeve to her eyes and wipes the tears away. “No, no, I’m fine. Brat and I just had a little conversation, that’s all.” She smiles then, and for the first time Hungary really sees her.
Hungary’s never had more than a casual interest in other woman. She recognizes Ukraine as beautiful, with soft, womanly curves that Hungary honestly envies, and once in a while she’s idly contemplative how soft the other’s hands (and lips) must be, but for the most part it’s been just that - the subject of idle daydreams, nothing more. Her love is across a fence of steel, after all, and there’s not much room in Hungary’s heart for anyone else.
But that smile changes everything. It’s the same sad but strong smile Austria wore each time he was defeated, each time his empire crumbled a little more. It’s the smile he wore during the divorce, when they were ripped apart from each other once and for all. It’s a smile that says that while Ukraine may have fallen now, she will not give up, no matter how much she suffers. It’s full of quiet strength and grace and the knowledge that, one way or the other, everything will someday be right.
And, looking at that smile, Hungary falls in love for the second time in her life.
She hesitates for a moment, feeling her cheeks go warm, then steps closer to Ukraine. She settles on the edge of the bed, resting just one hand on Ukraine’s leg. “It’s alright to cry,” she says reassuringly. “I do it all the time. Doesn’t mean you’re not strong. I know you’re strong, and you know it too.”
Ukraine smiles just a little more widely at that, and Hungary knows she has done the right thing.
---
Hungary’s always been good with words and with getting what she wants, and so she manages to convince Russia fairly easily that what Ukraine needs is a feminine touch in her life to help her out with some things. And so she is assigned to Ukraine as a maid of sorts - a role she’s played before, and one she thinks she plays well.
The first day of her new duties, she knocks lightly on Ukraine’s door, just once. A second later it opens and Ukraine is there, smiling brightly. It’s a fake smile, nothing like the one she wore that day, but it’s still beautiful. “Ah, hello! Brat wanted you to help me out, right? I d-don’t need that much help, but…”
Hungary smiles back and heads into the small bedroom, looking around. “I just know you’re busy with farming and such, and so I’m here to give you a little more time to relax, that’s all.” She smiles a little more widely and closes the door behind her - before locking it with a click. “And to let you talk about anything you need to get off your chest.”
Ukraine hesitates for a moment, the smile slipping. “There’s nothing… I-I…”
“This isn’t a duty Russia gave me,” Hungary replies, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s one I gave myself. I know how hard it can be suffering all of this alone. I’m just here to let you talk.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Ukraine averts her eyes, lowering her own voice. “He’s cut off food to my people. I’m hungry and hurting all the time, but I can’t say anything t-to him or he’ll m-make it worse. And he’s d-different, too, and not in a good way, and I’m scared for him and for me, and…” She folds her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking.
“I know. I understand.” Hungary embraces her lightly, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Trust me, I do. It’s hard for all of us. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, please, tell me.”
“This helps,” Ukraine replies, her voice muffled. After a brief pause, she reaches to wrap her arms around Hungary in turn. “It does. H-having someone listen helps.”
“Then I promise I’ll help from now on,” Hungary says softly, and then she daringly bends to kiss the top of Ukraine’s head. “We’ll get through this together.”
Ukraine pauses for a moment, and then she leans up to look at Hungary, lips parted just a little. Looking into those deep blue eyes, Hungary can’t resist any more, and a moment later she is kissing those soft, perfect lips.
After just a second, Ukraine responds to the kiss - hesitantly, slowly, but it’s a response - and they stay intertwined like that for what feels like an eternity.
Finally, at last, Ukraine pulls away, blushing. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t just… do stuff like that, I don’t even know if you like girls, and I shouldn’t have done that, and…”
“Ukraine,” Hungary replies with a hint of a grin, “I started that kiss.”
Ukraine smiles at her through the blush, a real smile, and Hungary pulls her in for another round.
---
“So, how long has it been since you last went riding?”
“Too long,” Ukraine replies nervously. “Don’t know if I even remember how.”
They’re in Hungary’s land today, Hungary having convinced Russia that Ukraine needed just a little time to relax. With the help of her people, Hungary has been able to keep a few of her horses, and while they’re skinnier and weaker than they used to be, once in a while she still gets to ride. That and her times with Ukraine are the only tastes of freedom she’s still allowed.
She’s read the stories of the Cossacks, and knows that, like her, Ukraine once lived and fought on horseback. While she cannot imagine a warrior looking as frail as Ukraine does now, it’s not as if Hungary is any better. Every day Hungary loses a little more of her old strength, and every day she looks into the mirror and sees someone who is not who she used to be. She wonders if Ukraine feels the same way.
“You’ll remember,” Hungary replies, ruffling Ukraine’s hair lightly. “Trust me, it comes back to you. I went ages without riding, but once you’re back in the saddle, it’s all just natural.” She grins a little. “And it’s fun as hell, too.”
Ukraine hesitates before swinging into the saddle, but soon enough she’s perched astride the horse, a black and brown beauty that’s the pride of Hungary’s stables. Hungary mounts up next to her, and a few seconds later they’re off.
Hungary closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying the raw power of the horse under her, the sound of its hooves, and the feel of the wind against her face. It’s been too long since she last did this, and she had almost forgotten just how liberating it can be. She feels at that moment that she could turn around and leap over the fence between her and Austria, gaining freedom for herself in just moments.
But the noise of hoofbeats beside her breaks her from her reverie, and she looks up to see Ukraine riding alongside her, a look of bliss on her face. For the first time, Hungary can see just how the woman was once a warrior - the way Ukraine holds herself on the horse is confident and sure, and her expression speaks of utter reassurance.
Hungary just watches her for a moment, studying the beautiful lines of her body, and then she grins and spurs her horse on. She can’t get freedom for herself, not yet - because when she takes her freedom, she wants to have Ukraine by her side with that smile on her lips.
They will walk - no, ride - through the broken fences hand and hand, and nothing will ever take their freedom again.
For the first time in decades, Hungary feels really, truly strong, and she laughs with delight as she rides side by side with Ukraine. Ukraine returns the laughter, and it rings through the treetops as they gallop off into the woods of what will always be Hungary’s lands.
---
The horses are grazing nearby now, and Hungary and Ukraine are stretched out together, hands intertwined. The sun is shining high overhead, warming both of them and lulling them slowly to sleep. Hungary feels as if she could stay in that moment forever, protected and happy.
But Ukraine breaks it all too suddenly, drawing away from Hungary just a little. “Can this last?” she asks, quietly and nervously.
Hungary frowns, turning to look at her. “Of course it can,” she replies, even though she’s had the same doubt a million times. “It’s lasted this far, hasn’t it?”
“But my brother might notice sooner or later,” Ukraine says, averting her eyes. “And if he does, we’ll both be punished. Neither of us can take much more, you know that.”
“We can take anything,” Hungary says with confidence she does not really feel. “And I’ll protect you from him. You know I will. I’m your guard and your warrior from now on, and I’m going to keep you safe forever.”
“…That’s the other thing.” Ukraine sighs, still turned away. “Sooner or later, the barriers will fall, we both know that. And when they do… you have someone waiting for you.”
Hungary’s heart lurches at the reminder. She’s been split for a long time between two selves - one who longs to see Austria again, and one who wants to stay with Ukraine for eternity. Until now, she’s just kept them carefully separated. Still, she forces out words (lies), hoping Ukraine will not notice how her voice shakes. “We’re divorced, Ukraine, and-“
“And you still love him,” Ukraine finishes for her. “It’s fine. I know you do. I just… sooner or later, I’m going to be alone with my brother again, and next time he might be too far gone for anyone to save me in time.” She smiles that same sad, fake smile that Hungary has come to hate. “Maybe he’ll be fixed by then. But I doubt it.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Hungary says softly, moving to lean over Ukraine. “When the barriers do fall, we’ll work something out. Until then, you’ll be kept safe. I promise you. I’ll never leave you alone.”
Ukraine looks up at her then, eyes shining with a mixture of hope and pain, and Hungary bends down to kiss those soft, inviting lips.
Soon enough they’re intertwined on the grass, Hungary’s too-rough hands tracing the sun-warmed contours of Ukraine’s body, and once again Hungary assures herself that this is right. This is what she wants, and what Ukraine wants, and in that moment it is right.
Maybe Ukraine is right, and someday Hungary will be torn away, either by Russia’s anger or by Austria’s love. Maybe someday they’ll both be alone again, trapped and held in chains. Maybe someday everything will fall apart.
But in that moment, there is them and the sun and the feel of Ukraine’s smile (her real smile) against Hungary’s lips, and that is the only thing in the world that matters.
Characters/pairing(s): Hungary/Ukraine, Russia cameoing
Rating: PG-13 for makeouts
Gifter: madelineusher
Giftee: irohfancier
Hungary always dreads the trips to Russia’s house. They’re meant to encourage bonding between the satellite nations and the states of the USSR, but in truth all they are is an exercise in boredom, frustration, and anger. She wants to be at home, with her people, not in this overlarge house that Russia has filled with the nations he treats like possessions.
She’s heading back from yet another painful ‘conversation’ with Russia when she hears the noises of crying down a side corridor.
For a moment she debates just moving on and ignoring it - the Baltics are not her concerns, and she has enough burdens on her own shoulders - but she’s never been able to quite rid herself of certain mothering instincts, and so instead she makes her way down the corridor, following the sound.
It’s easy enough to find the source. The door to the small room is still open, and inside Russia’s older sister - Ukraine - is perched on the edge of a small bed, sobbing into her hands, her shoulders shaking and heaving. Hungary barely knows the woman, but every time she’s seen her before, Ukraine has been smiling, if weakly. The tears are new.
“Are you alright?” Hungary asks quietly, stepping further into the sparse bedroom. It’s not her place to intrude, but she has to admit that she’s worried.
Ukraine jerks her head up to look at Hungary, eyes wide and tear-filled, but finally she raises one sleeve to her eyes and wipes the tears away. “No, no, I’m fine. Brat and I just had a little conversation, that’s all.” She smiles then, and for the first time Hungary really sees her.
Hungary’s never had more than a casual interest in other woman. She recognizes Ukraine as beautiful, with soft, womanly curves that Hungary honestly envies, and once in a while she’s idly contemplative how soft the other’s hands (and lips) must be, but for the most part it’s been just that - the subject of idle daydreams, nothing more. Her love is across a fence of steel, after all, and there’s not much room in Hungary’s heart for anyone else.
But that smile changes everything. It’s the same sad but strong smile Austria wore each time he was defeated, each time his empire crumbled a little more. It’s the smile he wore during the divorce, when they were ripped apart from each other once and for all. It’s a smile that says that while Ukraine may have fallen now, she will not give up, no matter how much she suffers. It’s full of quiet strength and grace and the knowledge that, one way or the other, everything will someday be right.
And, looking at that smile, Hungary falls in love for the second time in her life.
She hesitates for a moment, feeling her cheeks go warm, then steps closer to Ukraine. She settles on the edge of the bed, resting just one hand on Ukraine’s leg. “It’s alright to cry,” she says reassuringly. “I do it all the time. Doesn’t mean you’re not strong. I know you’re strong, and you know it too.”
Ukraine smiles just a little more widely at that, and Hungary knows she has done the right thing.
---
Hungary’s always been good with words and with getting what she wants, and so she manages to convince Russia fairly easily that what Ukraine needs is a feminine touch in her life to help her out with some things. And so she is assigned to Ukraine as a maid of sorts - a role she’s played before, and one she thinks she plays well.
The first day of her new duties, she knocks lightly on Ukraine’s door, just once. A second later it opens and Ukraine is there, smiling brightly. It’s a fake smile, nothing like the one she wore that day, but it’s still beautiful. “Ah, hello! Brat wanted you to help me out, right? I d-don’t need that much help, but…”
Hungary smiles back and heads into the small bedroom, looking around. “I just know you’re busy with farming and such, and so I’m here to give you a little more time to relax, that’s all.” She smiles a little more widely and closes the door behind her - before locking it with a click. “And to let you talk about anything you need to get off your chest.”
Ukraine hesitates for a moment, the smile slipping. “There’s nothing… I-I…”
“This isn’t a duty Russia gave me,” Hungary replies, her voice barely above a whisper. “It’s one I gave myself. I know how hard it can be suffering all of this alone. I’m just here to let you talk.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Ukraine averts her eyes, lowering her own voice. “He’s cut off food to my people. I’m hungry and hurting all the time, but I can’t say anything t-to him or he’ll m-make it worse. And he’s d-different, too, and not in a good way, and I’m scared for him and for me, and…” She folds her face into her hands, her shoulders shaking.
“I know. I understand.” Hungary embraces her lightly, careful not to squeeze too hard. “Trust me, I do. It’s hard for all of us. If there’s ever anything I can do to help, please, tell me.”
“This helps,” Ukraine replies, her voice muffled. After a brief pause, she reaches to wrap her arms around Hungary in turn. “It does. H-having someone listen helps.”
“Then I promise I’ll help from now on,” Hungary says softly, and then she daringly bends to kiss the top of Ukraine’s head. “We’ll get through this together.”
Ukraine pauses for a moment, and then she leans up to look at Hungary, lips parted just a little. Looking into those deep blue eyes, Hungary can’t resist any more, and a moment later she is kissing those soft, perfect lips.
After just a second, Ukraine responds to the kiss - hesitantly, slowly, but it’s a response - and they stay intertwined like that for what feels like an eternity.
Finally, at last, Ukraine pulls away, blushing. “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t just… do stuff like that, I don’t even know if you like girls, and I shouldn’t have done that, and…”
“Ukraine,” Hungary replies with a hint of a grin, “I started that kiss.”
Ukraine smiles at her through the blush, a real smile, and Hungary pulls her in for another round.
---
“So, how long has it been since you last went riding?”
“Too long,” Ukraine replies nervously. “Don’t know if I even remember how.”
They’re in Hungary’s land today, Hungary having convinced Russia that Ukraine needed just a little time to relax. With the help of her people, Hungary has been able to keep a few of her horses, and while they’re skinnier and weaker than they used to be, once in a while she still gets to ride. That and her times with Ukraine are the only tastes of freedom she’s still allowed.
She’s read the stories of the Cossacks, and knows that, like her, Ukraine once lived and fought on horseback. While she cannot imagine a warrior looking as frail as Ukraine does now, it’s not as if Hungary is any better. Every day Hungary loses a little more of her old strength, and every day she looks into the mirror and sees someone who is not who she used to be. She wonders if Ukraine feels the same way.
“You’ll remember,” Hungary replies, ruffling Ukraine’s hair lightly. “Trust me, it comes back to you. I went ages without riding, but once you’re back in the saddle, it’s all just natural.” She grins a little. “And it’s fun as hell, too.”
Ukraine hesitates before swinging into the saddle, but soon enough she’s perched astride the horse, a black and brown beauty that’s the pride of Hungary’s stables. Hungary mounts up next to her, and a few seconds later they’re off.
Hungary closes her eyes for a moment, enjoying the raw power of the horse under her, the sound of its hooves, and the feel of the wind against her face. It’s been too long since she last did this, and she had almost forgotten just how liberating it can be. She feels at that moment that she could turn around and leap over the fence between her and Austria, gaining freedom for herself in just moments.
But the noise of hoofbeats beside her breaks her from her reverie, and she looks up to see Ukraine riding alongside her, a look of bliss on her face. For the first time, Hungary can see just how the woman was once a warrior - the way Ukraine holds herself on the horse is confident and sure, and her expression speaks of utter reassurance.
Hungary just watches her for a moment, studying the beautiful lines of her body, and then she grins and spurs her horse on. She can’t get freedom for herself, not yet - because when she takes her freedom, she wants to have Ukraine by her side with that smile on her lips.
They will walk - no, ride - through the broken fences hand and hand, and nothing will ever take their freedom again.
For the first time in decades, Hungary feels really, truly strong, and she laughs with delight as she rides side by side with Ukraine. Ukraine returns the laughter, and it rings through the treetops as they gallop off into the woods of what will always be Hungary’s lands.
---
The horses are grazing nearby now, and Hungary and Ukraine are stretched out together, hands intertwined. The sun is shining high overhead, warming both of them and lulling them slowly to sleep. Hungary feels as if she could stay in that moment forever, protected and happy.
But Ukraine breaks it all too suddenly, drawing away from Hungary just a little. “Can this last?” she asks, quietly and nervously.
Hungary frowns, turning to look at her. “Of course it can,” she replies, even though she’s had the same doubt a million times. “It’s lasted this far, hasn’t it?”
“But my brother might notice sooner or later,” Ukraine says, averting her eyes. “And if he does, we’ll both be punished. Neither of us can take much more, you know that.”
“We can take anything,” Hungary says with confidence she does not really feel. “And I’ll protect you from him. You know I will. I’m your guard and your warrior from now on, and I’m going to keep you safe forever.”
“…That’s the other thing.” Ukraine sighs, still turned away. “Sooner or later, the barriers will fall, we both know that. And when they do… you have someone waiting for you.”
Hungary’s heart lurches at the reminder. She’s been split for a long time between two selves - one who longs to see Austria again, and one who wants to stay with Ukraine for eternity. Until now, she’s just kept them carefully separated. Still, she forces out words (lies), hoping Ukraine will not notice how her voice shakes. “We’re divorced, Ukraine, and-“
“And you still love him,” Ukraine finishes for her. “It’s fine. I know you do. I just… sooner or later, I’m going to be alone with my brother again, and next time he might be too far gone for anyone to save me in time.” She smiles that same sad, fake smile that Hungary has come to hate. “Maybe he’ll be fixed by then. But I doubt it.”
“I’m not going to leave you,” Hungary says softly, moving to lean over Ukraine. “When the barriers do fall, we’ll work something out. Until then, you’ll be kept safe. I promise you. I’ll never leave you alone.”
Ukraine looks up at her then, eyes shining with a mixture of hope and pain, and Hungary bends down to kiss those soft, inviting lips.
Soon enough they’re intertwined on the grass, Hungary’s too-rough hands tracing the sun-warmed contours of Ukraine’s body, and once again Hungary assures herself that this is right. This is what she wants, and what Ukraine wants, and in that moment it is right.
Maybe Ukraine is right, and someday Hungary will be torn away, either by Russia’s anger or by Austria’s love. Maybe someday they’ll both be alone again, trapped and held in chains. Maybe someday everything will fall apart.
But in that moment, there is them and the sun and the feel of Ukraine’s smile (her real smile) against Hungary’s lips, and that is the only thing in the world that matters.