Seasons
Title: Seasons
Author/Artist: fickledeuce
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Lithuania/Poland, Latvia, Estonia, Russia (Briefly)
Rating: PG
Warnings: Battle-field make-outs? Flashbacks, fluff of the sugary candyfloss variety
Summary: Poland and Lithuania take time off to go outside and look at the autumn leaves falling. As they do so, they remember the highs and lows of their lives, the Nations they know and how things have changed over time, through the seasons. Eventually, they decide they are in 'the autumn of their lives'.
[Written for the Minibang Challenge a while back]
----------------------------------------------------
The warm air in the room rose slowly, weighted with the smell of fresh baking, heavy and aromatic as it separated itself from the bitter cold emanating from the windows and the breeze from under the door. There was a huff from the window ledge as its occupant twisted around, pulling at his hair as he wiped away the fog he'd created on the window pane breathing on it and looking at the outside world.
"Li- et....I'm bored."
Kicking his legs, Poland edged off the ledge and into the kitchen, turning up his nose at the fresh rye bread cooling on the table. He wasn't in the mood for food; he'd been sitting cooped inside for the last four hours. Soon it would be dark, and the dusk of the evening was already beginning to creep across the sky. The day would be over, and he would have done nothing, save for some unremarkable paperwork, and using a new conditioner in his hair. He harboured a vague idea that soon he would spontaneously combust from the lack of doing anything, and all that would remain of the Third Republic of Poland would be the charred remains of his fingernails and the ends of his shoelaces.
"I suppose it would be too much to ask you to set the table then?"
The 'Man of The Kitchen' emerged from the pantry, a head of garlic in one hand, and a ladle in the other. There was a streak of flour through his hair, a tiny piece of parsley stuck to his shoulder, and he couldn't have looked happier. Lithuania was always at his most peaceful in the kitchen, even Poland knew that. But peace right now was closely associated with boredom, and if he had to burst that bubble for something to do, then he wasn't holding back.
"Totally. I'm way not keen, you know? Besides, we're like, going out."
This was as much of a revelation to Lithuania as it was to Poland himself, who seemed slightly surprised by the idea that had just spilt out of his mouth.
"Where? Poland, I'm a mess!"
The brunet ran his fingers through his hair, wincing at the flour transferring itself onto his hand. He couldn't visit people! He hadn't had a shower, and he'd literally thrown on the first thing he saw that morning. He'd thought they were having a lazy day at home, and now he was going to be dragged to a party or a restaurant for dinner? The thought of turning up to an important event underdressed like this was enough to make his stomach turn, and he eyed the medicine he kept on the bench for this warily.
"I dunno. About. To the stable, the park, whatever, I'll like, decide when we go."
As he was speaking, the vague blond was already pulling his coat from the rack, and tightening his scarf around his neck, eyes intent at the door. Lithuania was vaguely reminded of a dog that was desperate to relieve itself outside, but he shook the thought from his mind. Rolling his eyes, he resigned himself to his fate and begun to search for his boots.
-------------------------
Warm air again swirled around the two Nations, but this time it was devoid of aroma, and did nothing to lift the temperature in the surrounding area as it puffed from their mouths into the crisp autumn wind. Neither said anything, it was simply one foot in front of the other as they approached the end of the path they were following, but presently Lithuania reached out and shyly took Poland's hand, wishing inwardly that they weren't wearing mittens.
"Hey...."
Poland turned around, looking surprised and slightly pink, though that could have been the fault of the wind more than anything else. He opened his mouth to say something, then blinked and closed it again as a fat rosy red leaf fluttered down onto his nose. Staring upwards at the sky, his face split slowly into a wide laugh as a flurry of the same leaves found their way down to earth, and held his free hand up to catch one. It was timely, as Lithuania had just begun to laugh also, but at Poland's reaction more than the leaves in question. He'd have been in trouble for that, he knew, and likely the stroppy monster he shared his life with would have sulked for at least half an hour, so he allowed himself some grace to feel glad at the sudden gust of wind. But he didn't have time to dwell on this, as the hand was torn from his, and his empty fingers closed over thin air, curling in on themselves.
"Liet, Liet, lookit~!"
Stepping off the path, Lithuania stared at his companion, trying to work out what on earth was running through his mind. If there was anything there at all, that was. The Pole was far off the path, boots sunk heavily into the dirt, and mud beginning to streak up his trousers, with his hands held high in the air, towards the leaves. He spun in circles, hair fanning out around him, covering what seemed to be an expression bordering on beatific. Despite the apparent madness of his actions, the leaves seemed happy to oblige him, spinning with him and catching on his shoulders, gathering in his hands. Was there a secret behind this that the land and Poland knew, and he didn't? Lithuania wondered, not realising that the secret was something simple, that had eluded him all his life. The secret of relaxing, and enjoying the little things for what they were. It was something he didn't understand, but he couldn't help the pang of jealousy at the ability to let go like that. Someday, maybe, he would be let in on how to be free like that, and let the most menial things entertain him. But for now he could only look on and long for that talent.
That jealousy disappeared rather quickly, however, when without warning a handful of leaves were hurled at his face.
When the compulsory leaf fight that accompanied this was complete, and the ground alongside the path had turned into a mud bath as a result, they stopped to rest in the shadow of a tree, the bright glow of sunset beginning to filter through the branches onto the two companions as they relaxed on the worn down bench. Inhaling deeply, eyes bright from the sudden exercise, Lithuania picked out a small, vivid leaf that had wormed its way into Poland's hair, and examined the deep ochre veins that spidered over the leaf, and the blotches of grey where time had worn at it, the tiny holes where it had worn right through. Time did that, he thought. No matter how high up on the wind the frond could fly how bright its colour was when it was first formed, it couldn't escape the damage forever. It had to fall eventually. Like them all.
"Does autumn...remind you of anything?"
He was rewarded with only a completely blank stare as Poland looked from the leaf back to him in confusion.
"You're acting like, totally weird you know..."
"N-no, wait, do you see? This leaf is small, and it can be torn so easily, but it's still here. It lasted through wind and rain and who knows what else. It's really quite..."
Quite romantic, was what Lithuania truly wanted to say. The idea of something so fragile lasting through all the seasons was something that appealed to him, and made him feel oddly warm inside. It was a sentiment, however, that didn’t appear to be shared.
"Yeah, and? It’s like, a leaf. No big."
"It's not just a leaf. It can mean a lot, even though it doesn't look like much. Don't you think it could be ... well ... like us? We’ve been through so many seasons too, and you know….we used to be small and bright just like that too. Do you remember back then…? "
Without saying another word, Lithuania silently peeled apart Poland’s gloved hands, shifting them so that they were cupped as if to collect water, and placed the tiny leaf in between them gently, looking up and wondering if he’d understand the reference to one spring time, so very long ago….
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
It was a fresh morning and the dew was still thick on the ground when they ventured out into the day. For the first time in a while, Lithuania and Poland weren’t alone. Rather, there was a small, timid Nation tangled around Lithuania’s knees, and another gripped Poland’s hand tightly. The proud smile on the older brunet’s face refused to budge even as the cool air hit his face like a wave. It had been a while since everyone had been able to be together like this. But now his brothers were with him again, and even though they’d had some troubles, it seemed like the Commonwealth was as strong as ever.
"Guys, guys, like, look! The flowers are back!"
Poland had dashed off, dragging a confused and slow-footed Estonia with him, rubbing at his eyes as if to make the sleep vanish. Stopping at the foot of a tree, and placing his hands on the younger boy’s shoulders, he looked at him with complete earnestness.
"Stay still and I’ll like, give you a lift hey? One- two-…three!"
"Poland I don’t think that’s a very-! "
"Shh, you little squirt~!"
And it seemed in the space it took Lithuania to blink, the two were gone, up to the very topmost branches. Latvia whimpered slightly, and buried his face into the rough fabric of the brunet’s pants, frightened for his brother. Taking his hand, they watched hearts in their throats as the Pole leapt from branch to branch, slipping every now and then, but never quite falling. Presently, the very top foliage of the tree concealed them, and there was a pause. Muffled giggling filtered down through dappled leaves, until with a thud the two appeared again, eyes bright.
"W-w-what have y-you got there?"
"Poland! Why did you do that?! You know that's not safe!"
Speaking at once, words crashing over each other, Lithuania and Latvia rushed forward, both slipping slightly on the wet grass. By the time they made their way over, the other half of their family was ready and waiting. The pride, ridiculous as it was, seemed to radiate from both of them.
As he tossed his hair back, Poland preened, proud of the attention even as his anxious friend grabbed his arm and shook him slightly, furious at his recklessness. Pressing a finger to the brunet’s lips to silence them, he turned as Estonia held his cupped hands out to them all. A tiny white blossom, bruised from their adventures, encased in pale, new leaves lay nested in his hand. It was rumpled, and hardly anything to look at, but from the look in the normally composed young Baltic’s eyes, it meant a whole lot more than that.
"Spring is-"
-----------------------------------------
"-Here!" breathed Poland, eyes widening as he finished the sentence from the days when their life together had first begun. When things had been so much simpler, and he had been part of a family, not just a "companion" to the oldest Baltic. When Lithuania had had a back that was tanned by the sun as they worked the fields, not stripped with scars of an all too recent past.
Twisting around, and grabbing at the tree, pulling a broken branch caught in the foliage down into his lap, Poland selected a leaf, large, glossy and scarlet and held it up to the light. The sun was starting to slip slowly down the sky, and the backlight behind the leaf was beginning to hold the same tint of colour. Losing interest in that, he tossed it to Lithuania, who brushed the dirt off it carefully.
"So, like, what kind of leaf is that then, hmm?"
His tone was sarcastic, but light, nostalgia beginning to filter through behind it. Lithuania only smiled; surprised Poland was playing along at all with this.
"You really don’t pay any attention to plants and farming seasons, do you? This one has been in the sun more than most. It was probably at the top of the tree before it was pulled down."
Poland glanced down at the branch again, picking up on the wording of this silently. ‘ At the top before it was pulled down.’ That couldn’t be a coincidence, he thought dryly, well aware that by this they were talking about themselves now, not the flora. Tilting his head to the side, and keeping his voice bright like the break of sunset in front of them, he asked;
"So, summer is like, totally the best for plants then?"
"Yes. In the spring they are young and still developing the strength to protect themselves, but by the time summer comes along they've grown tall and strong."
------------------------
Hot sun beat down on their backs, and the horses beneath them stomped irritably, flicking at the flies that chased them wherever they walked. The armour that encased Poland became heavier with each mile they crossed, and he wondered if he was going to melt inside it, seep out through the gaps in the chainmesh, and become a puddle on the path they were making through the fields. The atmosphere was quiet, sombre especially for him, as each hoof hitting the ground seemed increasingly louder with every step closer they took to the battlefield. By now, they’d done this so many times before it was nearly like breathing, it was for every Nation in Europe at this time, but even now it was, and would continue to be, something crucial. Even if both of them knew they could take more than a couple of hits and be able to keep on going, the soldiers behind them were well aware that they were finite resources. Bam, you’ve done your duty, we’ll see you on the other side, and that was a life over in the blink of an eye.
But there was their pride at stake. This was an old hate, and a wound that ran deep. Lithuania’s eyes narrowed inside his helmet, and he allowed every sentimental thought he had, the placid nature in his heart drain away from him. What was left was something different, something formidable. When the sunshine in his smile faded away this way, the people knew they were not dealing with Lithuania the people-pleaser, the caring boy they’d learnt to call their own. No, they were dealing with a knight. A warrior.
And today, that warrior, and the proud winged man beside him were going out to teach the enemy the lesson they’d been unable to teach them 400 years ago.
----------------------
Shaking his head, as if to dispel the memory that flashed into his mind, Lithuania turned, suddenly red-cheeked. It was odd to remember days like that one, to sink back into the mind set of his younger self and see the world in the same way that he had back then. He hadn’t tried to think like that in so long now, what with the tanks and bombs that was warfare today. It made him feel old to think of these things, and remember what a battle was like before then, when it was the bravery of the man next to you, the strength of your sword hand and the trust in your horse that would save you.
"A-are you…thinking of the same summer as me?"
His words fell on deaf ears, as Poland stared out at the sunset, clearly lost in something that pleased him a lot, if the sharp curve of his lips peeking from the top of his scarf was anything to go by.
-----------
"God Liet, we did it! Did you see them?! There must have like, been a billion to each one of us! And we totally kicked arse!"
Hair matted with blood and sweat, Poland didn’t dismount from his horse so much as fall, grinning from ear to ear. There was a sickening crunch as he hit the ground, and his Hussar wings, already beaten from deflecting so many arrows splintered. He didn’t seem to care, panting from the hot summer sun and exertion, he paid them no heed.
"We did. It was a good victory."
Removing his helmet, and swiping at the perspiration running down his face, Lithuania too, tumbled from his horse, landing on the hard dirt next to the blonde. Neither of them could control the violent satisfaction running through them, as belated adrenalin pumped through their bloodstreams and forced already strained hearts to beat faster.
"You did great out there."
Propping himself up, Lithuania grinned a feral grin as he said this. He meant it too. When they’d been younger it had seemed as if he was the one equipped best for fighting, not Poland, the spoilt indoors boy. But he’d left all of that behind, ruthlessly striking again and again, teeth bared and golden hair whipping around him like a halo as he parried blows and gave better than he got, time and time again. He’d been almost beautiful there, in his own strange way. It had taken Lithuania far too many years to admit this about the other boy, but now he could hardly deny it.
He didn’t have much time to think about this, as he found himself flat against the ground again, heavy weight pinning him against the dirt. Metal breastplates clanked and rubbed against each other, as Lithuania looked up at his partner, lying flush against him. Fingers tangling in knotted hair as they threaded their hands through each other’s ponytails, Poland grabbing at Lithuania’s ribbon, and tossing it away, letting his hair spread out on the blood-stained earth as the brunet grasped the back of the other Nation’s neck. It was a synchronized movement as they drew closer to each other, but it was Lithuania, surprisingly, who pressed their lips together with a feverish urgency. The triumph of winning, against such odds, and with so much at stake forced fire through them, and it was a long moment before either of them thought to break away, spit coursing down their chins from the sloppiness of their kiss, blood and dirt covering them as they lay with the fallen. None of that seemed to matter though, in that moment it was only them in their own personal world- one that now seemed reliant on whether they could peel the armour from each other while still joined in that way.
Maybe, if either Nation had looked up, they would have seen the torn banners still fluttering above them, vivid red and waving in the wind like autumn leaves.
----------------------------
"Poland?"
"Ahhh! I was like, totally listening! I totally agree!"
Startled out of this pleasant memory, the blond looked around wildly, trying to work out what Lithuania had been saying. Their pink cheeks matched now, and as they made slow eye contact, it became apparent that they had, indeed, been thinking of the same memory. Squirming slightly in faint embarrassment, Lithuania slipped his hands out of his mittens, and blew on them to warm them, dropping the red leaf to the ground. It could hardly have been a coincidence that as he did so Poland slipped along the bench, a little too close to be really considered innocent. By the look in his eyes, he not only remembered the end of the battle, but also the night they’d had afterwards, coated in sweat, sticking to the thick canvas-like sheets that were standard when on campaign like this, and trying desperately to silence each other, for fear that the soldiers in the tent next door would hear.
Stammering something that didn’t quite make enough sense to be a sentence, Liet dropped a gentle kiss down onto Poland’s forehead, brushing the hair off his face tenderly. It was funny to think of how confident they’d been back then, and then to look at the embarrassment he felt now at offering a simple peck out in public. His younger self would have laughed at him, no doubt. Instead, he was left with the insecurities in his own weathered mind, to deal with the longing and nostalgic look in Poland’s eyes as he spoke up in a strangely distant tone.
"You know….you’re totally right. That was an awesome summer. We could like, find Mongolia and way do that again sometime…"
There was really no appropriate response to this aside from an exaggerated roll of the eyes. Invading someone and violating almost every rule the UN had to recreate a pleasant personal memory was hardly what anyone would call a practical idea. But that was something that would never change.
"Hey. Liet. What happened to autumn then?"
Grateful to have something else on his mind other than the feeling of the blond’s lips on his in the sun and the idea of invading someone in the present time for fun, the Baltic’s eyes fell onto the branch that Poland had pulled off the tree, focusing on a shrivelled, grey leaf. You saw that sometimes with plants, they died in the early frosts, and the leaves never fell.
They remained, close to the tree that had grown them until they rotted, or became skeletons of what they once were.
"Winter came early instead, I think…."
------------------------
Somehow, Lithuania had known that this winter would be something big. It was nearly a whole year now, since he’d been parted from Poland, on that final day in the snow. It was impossible to admit to himself that he’d been counting the days, but it was surely no coincidence that the tiny diary he hid in the deepest recess of his sleeve had a tiny tally at the back, one that he marked the first thing he woke up each morning.
The clouds, billowing heavy and yellow in the sky boomed with the possibility of the first snowfall of the year, seeming to come ever closer to the window that Lithuania had his left hand pressed firmly against, though he was beginning to lose all feeling in it from the cold the glass emanated. His back was turned from the rest of the household, which made him edgy, but he couldn’t bear to face them again. There had been a dark cloud that had seemed to appear around Russia as autumn had ebbed away, and they’d come closer and closer to the changing of the seasons. Lithuania still didn’t understand the larger man, and he suspected he never truly would, but it felt almost like the fear he felt for it was personal, as if there was something powering the snows other than God. He never dared to ask, even as he shut the back door at night to the sounds of someone out in the night quietly screaming up at the sky.
The first flakes began to flutter down as he watched, and the glass slowly began to gather a thin layer of intricately overlain crystals of ice. Curving a finger along them, fascinated, the brunet leant in closer, and his warm breath created a small patch of dense fog, which wasn’t enough to melt the ice on the outside. Sighing, and looking past it into the expanse of white that was beginning to settle, Lithuania felt his stomach began to churn in worry. Nobody had seen Poland for months now, and he’d never asked where he was, too offended and bitter at his parting words to admit that he cared. Truth be told, nobody knew. But even with his absence on the map, it was impossible to believe that he was gone. He only hoped his lost (No, not lost. That made it sound as if he had died, or worse, been misplaced, Lithuania thought) companion had a safe place to shelter from the chill.
As he stood, head bowed in concern, there was a displacement of air behind him, and a heavy weight clamped itself around his shoulders. By the smell of alcohol, earth and ice, it couldn’t be anyone else but as he turned his head to the side, he was still surprised all the same to find the pale, almost scared face of Russia millimetres from his. Inching away slightly, Lithuania glared at him with all the ferocity he could muster from within his growing fear. His right arm still hadn’t recovered from the last contact he had with the other man, who had claimed he didn’t need it to work if he was going to keep refusing do the servants’ work, cooking and the like around here. Someday, he knew he would give in, but now the thought of his nobility, and the pride that remained wouldn’t let him.
But Russia didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, and only smiled at him, a smile tinged with a faint desperation.
"You don’t like the cold either do you, Литва? We’re the same, да? I can protect you from it. All you need to do is stay with me."
It felt in that moment it was going to be a long winter indeed. And it was, one that would last for hundreds of years.
---------------------------
"Oi. What’s your deal?"
"Uh?!"
Feeling one sharp finger jab him in the ribs, the brunet jumped, turning around to glare at Poland in irritation. For someone who had been angling for a lot more than a light kiss before, the blond certainly did know how to ruin the mood. But then, it had probably been lost by this point anyway, Liet thought. This memory wasn’t one he tried to stifle, not by a long shot, but it was a time so very far away from the sunset and tranquil scene now, and it seemed like a shame to ruin that with thoughts of darker times, snowstorms.
"But whaddya mean winter came early? Seasons like, don’t do that!"
There was a long silence, and then a sigh.
"It came after they split us apart."
It was easy to forget sometimes that his companion knew very little of his life after that fateful day, and vice versa. It would have been nice to know, actually, just what Poland had been doing that day, whether he knew it was the first time Russia had approached him in that way, or how he had managed to survive that cruel first snow. But by the obstinate look on the Pole’s face, it was unlikely he was going to find out.
"Yeah. I remember now."
----------------------------------
For the past twelve months Poland had roamed. There was no other way to describe it. It was unfair to say that he did nothing, for he had done many things. He had walked, every step around their old border, trying to work out why it felt wrong now, why it didn’t seem like home. It still didn’t feel real that everything had gone. But no matter where he walked, he couldn’t sense himself in the land below. Home was where the heart was, but he could still feel his heart, and there was no home for him to go to.
And so, when the clouds knitted tighter together and changed their colour, Poland was still outside, in the same uniform that he’d lost everything in. The only possessions he still had were the tattered remains of a hair ribbon and the ring that had held together his universe for so long. Though what he’d had was never counted by some as a ‘true’ marriage, even denied on some days by Liet, the golden band remained fast on his ring finger. It wasn’t as if anyone would see it anyway. There was nobody as far as the eye could see, just the outline of a bleak house and the shadowy figure of someone at the window within, no doubt gloating that they were inside in the warm, thought Poland. This was Russia’s land, not his own, and it felt hostile beneath his feet as he plunged forward into the wind towards the seemingly abandoned building some 200 metres from the house.
To his relief, it was a stable. He was familiar with those, and they always smelled like home, or as close to it as he would get these days. The snow was beginning to collect on his hair by the time he reached it, and he collapsed into the nearest stall, pleased to find it occupied. The horse nickered at him softly, curious. Horses had always liked him, it seemed. Anything of the equine nature did, and he returned that love with all his heart. It made up for the fact that he had far more difficulty with his own kind. Nestling down into the hay, not caring how dirty it was, he curled into a ball to try clamp just a little of his body warmth within him still.
The night passed slowly, in long hours of tossing and turning as his only comfort was the horse licking softly at his face, seeking the salt from his tears.
---------------------------------------------
The pensive mood that stretched between them was long, and they drifted into silence as the last of the sun’s glow disappeared beyond the horizon. It was when the last of it faded that Poland dared to break the silence, recovering from the past quickly, as he always did.
"So where are we now then, if winter’s like, been?"
A breeze picked up as he trailed off, picking up all the leaves around them and brushing more from the tree, swirling up into a hurricane like the one he’d created himself as they’d walked there. Everything was lost in a swirl of muted brown, apricot, through to the flaming red that was the trademark of fall. At first Lithuania felt irritation at it, as wet, sticky plant matter was slapped onto his back from the wind; effectively ruining his jacket. But when the initial annoyance passed, he stopped to see the hundreds of different shades, some very like his own Baltic amber. Giving up and decided to simply let it be, he grinned and lifted a hand to the leaves as Poland had earlier. He felt different, far more carefree than he had for so long. Perhaps this was how people did it? Just forgot the negative, forgot what was ridiculous or logical, and laughed about it?
Either way, it felt like he had learnt something new here. Everything came and went, changing as the seasons. Each memory was precious, and yet so easily tainted, like the leaves that had sparked this. Leaves that fell as the trees shed what they’d been, and freed them from the constraints of the past. It was almost like loss, to discard the beauty of those things, but it was what they were doing. Not just Lithuania and Poland, not just the trees, but everyone. Together the world was beginning to move on from their personal winters, or the summers that had scalded instead of warmed.
"I think….now is the autumn of our lives."
Standing up as the wind died down, Lithuania bent down, selecting leaves very like the ones they’d picked up before and reminisced over, and pocketed them. Just because the autumn was for moving on, it didn’t mean he had to let everything go. Some memories were worth keeping.
"Should we like, go home?"
Poland reached over in response to this and pulled off Lithuania’s mitten, having discarded his sometime when the other Nation wasn’t looking. Clasping their bare hands together as he’d wanted earlier, Lithuania felt the crackle of a small leaf in between their palms as he brought them together. Whether Poland had just been holding it, or if it held some greater meaning, he didn’t know. Only that whatever season they came up against next, neither of them would be alone.
"Together."
[ .Comments appreciated~! C:]