Let your sons draw their strength from our past experience [3/?]
anonymous
March 20 2010, 20:17:43 UTC
England bit his lip and suddenly found the interesting tiled border on the other side of France's kitchen very interesting indeed. "A year or two, but that's hardly relevant, it can't have been the potion! Look, I gave him the recipe at the Olympics, that was weeks ago. Why didn't he lose his memory weeks ago -"
"A year?" Lithuania suddenly thumped a fist on the counter. That was new. "How am I supposed to go on like this for a year? What if there's a battle?"
Latvia mumbled into his coffee cup, "Well, I could maybe look after things for you? If I had to? There's not going to be anything you have to do, really, I mean your government's pretty stable and um. There are parlimentary elections coming up, but . . . "
"Let's make that our last resort," Estonia cut in, and reached across Latvia for the sugar bowl. "England has a point, however. Do we know it was the potion?"
"We totally do," Poland declared, "look, he has the recipe still in his pocket, you don't just keep sticking stuff in there, like some people, right, Liet?" He stuck his hand in the pocket of Lithuania's jeans to extract it, which Lithuania would normally not have blinked at, and which right now, caused him to yelp and wrench Poland's hand away. Poland looked more surprised than hurt, and Lithuania looked a little bt - not ashamed, really, but cringing nontheless. After a few seconds silence Lithuania reached into his own pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. A familiar piece of paper. England snatched it from his fingers, although he was careful not to get too close. That wariness of touch, that's something they all had, once upon a time.
But it was the recipe, and was the right recipe in his own handwriting - okay, he'll admit his handwriting is messy - salt, half a teaspoon rosemary olive oil, three hundred milliliters beer - even the chant is right. "Look," he said, "this is the right recipe. If he actually followed this, nothing bad should have happened."
Estonia leaned back, as much as was possible on his barstool. "I think we can safely attribute it to magical causes, whatever the precise reason," he declares, which is a very nice and diplomatic way of saying He must have fucked up the recipe that doesn't actually involve accusing Lithuania aloud. "England, do you know of a direct antidote to your memory-suppresant potion?"
"No. Never needed one." He bites his lip. Latvia twitches and looks at Lithuania out of the corner of his eye. Lithuania's eyes are narrowed, and he's rubbing his temple again, and Poland's hand is hovering in the vicinity of his shoulder without actually touching.
France shoved his empty coffee cup away from him. It skitterd over the counter and beaches itself on the edge of the stove with a ceramic clang. "I suggest we try to contact Norway again, if it's his recipe. In the meantime, I am going to have a cigarette. Please try not to get any blood on my kitchen floor while I'm gone."
The silence after he stalked off was broken by Lithuania's cautious, "What's a cigarette?"
Re: Let your sons draw their strength from our past experience [3/?]
anonymous
March 20 2010, 21:13:26 UTC
Op Anon is so happy!
I'm so glad someone finally is filling this! My first fill, yay! ^___^ *going to bake Author!Anon some cookies*
So far I really like it, and also it seems you know what you are writing about on the medieval Lithuania topic, which is absolutely awesome, too. I can't wait for more!
reCaptcha says: the accuracy. I think it likes your fic, too!
Re: Let your sons draw their strength from our past experience [3/?]
anonymous
March 20 2010, 22:02:15 UTC
I'm so glad someone is filling this. This anon hopes for some LietPol and FrUk. Also having Norway involved would just be to awesome.
I agree with the following anon that you seem to have done reserach on the topic which makes me really happy since historical fills are mostly filled with win. Also medival Lithuania is badass.
Captcha: Gaged Prauge. Well maybe not in that way captcha
England bit his lip and suddenly found the interesting tiled border on the other side of France's kitchen very interesting indeed. "A year or two, but that's hardly relevant, it can't have been the potion! Look, I gave him the recipe at the Olympics, that was weeks ago. Why didn't he lose his memory weeks ago -"
"A year?" Lithuania suddenly thumped a fist on the counter. That was new. "How am I supposed to go on like this for a year? What if there's a battle?"
Latvia mumbled into his coffee cup, "Well, I could maybe look after things for you? If I had to? There's not going to be anything you have to do, really, I mean your government's pretty stable and um. There are parlimentary elections coming up, but . . . "
"Let's make that our last resort," Estonia cut in, and reached across Latvia for the sugar bowl. "England has a point, however. Do we know it was the potion?"
"We totally do," Poland declared, "look, he has the recipe still in his pocket, you don't just keep sticking stuff in there, like some people, right, Liet?" He stuck his hand in the pocket of Lithuania's jeans to extract it, which Lithuania would normally not have blinked at, and which right now, caused him to yelp and wrench Poland's hand away. Poland looked more surprised than hurt, and Lithuania looked a little bt - not ashamed, really, but cringing nontheless. After a few seconds silence Lithuania reached into his own pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. A familiar piece of paper. England snatched it from his fingers, although he was careful not to get too close. That wariness of touch, that's something they all had, once upon a time.
But it was the recipe, and was the right recipe in his own handwriting - okay, he'll admit his handwriting is messy - salt, half a teaspoon rosemary olive oil, three hundred milliliters beer - even the chant is right. "Look," he said, "this is the right recipe. If he actually followed this, nothing bad should have happened."
Estonia leaned back, as much as was possible on his barstool. "I think we can safely attribute it to magical causes, whatever the precise reason," he declares, which is a very nice and diplomatic way of saying He must have fucked up the recipe that doesn't actually involve accusing Lithuania aloud. "England, do you know of a direct antidote to your memory-suppresant potion?"
"No. Never needed one." He bites his lip. Latvia twitches and looks at Lithuania out of the corner of his eye. Lithuania's eyes are narrowed, and he's rubbing his temple again, and Poland's hand is hovering in the vicinity of his shoulder without actually touching.
France shoved his empty coffee cup away from him. It skitterd over the counter and beaches itself on the edge of the stove with a ceramic clang. "I suggest we try to contact Norway again, if it's his recipe. In the meantime, I am going to have a cigarette. Please try not to get any blood on my kitchen floor while I'm gone."
The silence after he stalked off was broken by Lithuania's cautious, "What's a cigarette?"
*
Reply
Also, is that FrUK I smell? =D
Can't wait to read more, I hope you update soon!
Reply
I'm so glad someone finally is filling this! My first fill, yay! ^___^ *going to bake Author!Anon some cookies*
So far I really like it, and also it seems you know what you are writing about on the medieval Lithuania topic, which is absolutely awesome, too. I can't wait for more!
reCaptcha says: the accuracy. I think it likes your fic, too!
Reply
Reply
I agree with the following anon that you seem to have done reserach on the topic which makes me really happy since historical fills are mostly filled with win.
Also medival Lithuania is badass.
Captcha: Gaged Prauge.
Well maybe not in that way captcha
Reply
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