The Time Russia Almost Started an International Incident Between Lithuania and East Germany (2a/?)
anonymous
June 3 2011, 03:53:40 UTC
For maybe a quarter-hour Russia just sat on the stairs and watched him dust. Even without the maid outfit it was one of the most uncomfortable experiences of Lithuania's considerably long life, not least because Russia kept saying things like, "Be careful with that painting. It is worth more than all your land," or "If you drop that vase I will be very unhappy," and possibly worst of all, "But you are very adorable dressed this way!"
Lithuania had been dusting this same furniture in this same foyer for twenty-six straight years, every week on Thursday. It was considerably more miserable while being micro-managed and wearing high heels.
And with the number of countries that lived in Russia's house, it was inevitable that someone saw him. That first someone ended up being Estonia.
"Rossiya Toravishch," he said, coming down the stairs where he had undoubtedly been doing some accounting, "I was looking at the expenses and--"
Lithuania whirled, nearly dropping the vase Russia would be very unhappy if Lithuania broke, and stood stock-still. Estonia stared at him. Lithuania stared back, bright red.
"Yes?" Russia prompted, his disposition as sunny as it ever got.
Estonia ripped his gaze from Lithuania and continued, "--with the party you want to throw next Sunday for the Party elite--"
Lithuania, half turned back to his work, winced probably at the same time Estonia did.
"You don't mean 'elite', do you?" Russia asked.
"No, I just meant - the Party members that you invited, of course," Estonia said, smoothing it over. "In any case, with the rationing, it will be a bit difficult to acquire enough food to ..."
"Let us go to the office and discuss it," Russia said. "Litva?"
Lithuania did not cringe. He turned to face Russia, who was doing his looming-slightly-too-close to Estonia at the moment; the other country was doing his level best to not cower. "Yes, Rossiya Toravishch?"
"You will serve dinner like this, yes?"
Lithuania did almost snap the duster in his hands. "... I ..." He glanced at Estonia. Estonia decisively avoided his gaze. "Fine," he said tightly. "Rossiya Toravishch."
Russia beamed at him. "That is good! I like it when you are cute, Litva. It makes me very happy."
Lithuania forced a wavering smile in return, cursing Estonia in his head.
Estonia sneezed.
"Ah, do not catch a cold," Russia said, concerned. "Let's go upstairs ..."
As the other nation was led away Lithuania remained standing where he was in corner of the foyer.
There were certain humiliations that all of the USSR bloc shared. Simply having a Soviet Russia-friendly government forced on them was the biggest one. The humiliation of having their culture subsumed and Russia's forced down their throats - literally, at mealtime - was another. Being beaten for uprisings, well ... they should have done better jobs coordinating, but it was almost impossible in Russia's house. He was always there. Getting shit-faced on vodka because of a drinking game Russia made them play, sure, they'd all been there. But this was a new one. This was unbearable.
With Russia out of sight, Lithuania held the duster like a dagger hidden up his sleeve and fantasized that he would tell Russia exactly where he could stuff this outfit. Then he more realistically tried to imagine how he'd react if he was Poland. (Ugh, black and frilly is totally not my style! This is so ew! Tell Japan it's bright fall colors that are all the rage right now, and slinky - yeah, slinky dresses!)
At least Lithuania could smile at that image. Too bad Poland was in Siberia right now. Lithuania felt terrible for him - he'd been to Siberia too, once, and he'd pretty much do anything to never go again - but if he knew Poland - and he knew Poland better than anyone else - he'd come back fine. Like a phoenix rising, Lithuania thought.
"Holy shit," someone said from the far end of the foyer. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Lithuania jerked his head up and found himself looking at East Germany-formerly-known-as-Prussia-formerly-known-as-the-Teutonic-Knights. He had been carrying a pile of tablecloths, but those were now in a heap at his feet as he apparently had decided to stop and stare at Lithuania.
The Time Russia Almost Started an International Incident Between Lithuania and East Germany (2b/?)
anonymous
June 3 2011, 03:55:06 UTC
"Well, well, well," East said, a smirk curling around his pale face. "Aren't you just the cutest?"
"East," Lithuania said through his teeth.
East stepped over the tablecloths and walked into the foyer, making no secret of how he eyed Lithuania up and down. "I'd never have guessed how fetching you'd look in a dress. Just what possessed you to put this on? Finally decided to follow Pol'sha's lead?"
"Rossiya," Lithuania said through a throat tight with humiliation and anger.
East clicked his tongue. "Tch! Rossiya doesn't seem like the type," he sneered.
"Well. Now we both know something new about him." Lithuania struggled to regain his usual equilibrium; he'd have to serve dinner wearing this, after all, and giving into the urge to up-end a platter of borscht on the head of anyone who so much as snickered at him would not end well. "You'll want to pick up those tablecloths before Rossiya comes back downstairs."
"Yeah, probably," East agreed, but he circled Lithuania just outside of arm's reach nonetheless, eyes fixed on Lithuania's hemline. "You'll probably want to get back to dusting, Miss Litva."
Lithuania prayed for patience. "I'll do that presently." It took all his willpower, but he stiffly turned back to the table he'd stopped halfway through cleaning.
"Just one thing," East said from behind him. "That pretty outfit come complete with panties?"
Lithuania could have borne the comment. He really could have. What he couldn't take was East's fingers brushing his rear as he flipped Lithuania's skirts to find out for himself.
It might have been 150 years since Lithuania had last seen use for a dagger, but he was still holding the duster like one. He spun on the balls of his feet, lunged, and plunged the duster's handle into East's solar plexus.
The breath whooshed out of East's lungs and he staggered backwards. Lithuania smiled sweetly at him. "Touch me again," he said. "Please. I'd like the excuse."
East was doubled over, but Lithuania knew the look East gave him; it was a look he'd been giving Lithuania for several hundred years until Lithuania and Poland beat it out of him. "Yeah, princess?" he wheezed. "Bring it on--!" He took a swing at Lithuania's midsection.
If East was set back by lack of air, Lithuania was hampered by the high heels - which proved to be a boon when East got him in a headlock and Lithuania slammed the pump down on East's instep. East yowled and grabbed his apron strings and the thing half-fell off before he was jerked back again, punched in the ear, and one arm wrenched up his back. "I feel bad beating up a chick," East snarled, fisting Lithuania's petticoats.
"I'd feel bad about beating you up again," Lithuania panted as he elbowed East in the face with his free arm, giving East a bloody nose, "but you're not even a country any more."
"Low blow," East snarled and pile-drove Lithuania with his arms and head, sending them both sprawling to the floor.
The Time Russia Almost Started an International Incident Between Lithuania and East Germany (2c/?)
anonymous
June 3 2011, 03:55:53 UTC
From there it was more of a wrestling contest: East, never above any tactic, pulled on Lithuania's hair and tore at his clothes and tried to knee him in the groin. Any sense of modesty Lithuania had been struggling to maintain before went out the window as he grappled East, forcing him to roll over by bending his wrist back so far it almost broke until East went with it. He narrowly avoided being kicked in the head and snaked his leg around East's, pinning East's ankle with his own; he planted an elbow in the middle of East's spine and wrenched his opposite shoulder back by grabbing his arm at the bicep, disabling him. East tried to roll over and found he couldn't. Lithuania wrenched his bicep up and back further until the former nation broke out into a sweat with the effort of not crying out. "Ask me to let you up nicely," Lithuania panted.
"Fuck no," East snarled between short breaths.
Lithuania made to wrench East's arm up even further - which would have been difficult sprawled on top of the former nation as he was - but just then he heard the sound of plates shattering. Instinctively he looked up at the sound and found - of course - Latvia, who was shaking and staring with a shattered plate of appetizers at his feet. "L-L-L-Litva?" he said.
Lithuania came back to himself, realizing what they looked like: bloodied faces, swollen jaws, Lithuania in an askew maid's dress with torn ruffles all flipped up his back exposing his (very manly) boxers as he pinned East to the ground in a wrestler's grip. He blushed. "Ah, Latvii," he started, but it was too late.
"Rossiya Toravishch!" Latvia cried, running up the stairs. "Rossiya Toravishch, East and Litva-- they've hurt each other--!"
"Ah, damn, why does the kid do that?" East asked, spitting out a tooth.
"He - doesn't remember much besides Rossiya's house," Lithuania said. He loosened his hold on East slightly with the intention of getting up before suddenly changing his mind - he was already in deep trouble with the host nation, and he'd have a hard time making it worse. "Now - will you be flipping my skirts again?"
East cursed. "Just let me up, will ya?" But it was too late for Lithuania to get his promise because from upstairs he heard Estonia cry, "Latviaaa!" and Russia's office door slamming open.
Lithuania laughed ruefully into East's back. At least if he was sent back to Siberia for this, he knew he'd have Poland for company.
Lithuania had been dusting this same furniture in this same foyer for twenty-six straight years, every week on Thursday. It was considerably more miserable while being micro-managed and wearing high heels.
And with the number of countries that lived in Russia's house, it was inevitable that someone saw him. That first someone ended up being Estonia.
"Rossiya Toravishch," he said, coming down the stairs where he had undoubtedly been doing some accounting, "I was looking at the expenses and--"
Lithuania whirled, nearly dropping the vase Russia would be very unhappy if Lithuania broke, and stood stock-still. Estonia stared at him. Lithuania stared back, bright red.
"Yes?" Russia prompted, his disposition as sunny as it ever got.
Estonia ripped his gaze from Lithuania and continued, "--with the party you want to throw next Sunday for the Party elite--"
Lithuania, half turned back to his work, winced probably at the same time Estonia did.
"You don't mean 'elite', do you?" Russia asked.
"No, I just meant - the Party members that you invited, of course," Estonia said, smoothing it over. "In any case, with the rationing, it will be a bit difficult to acquire enough food to ..."
"Let us go to the office and discuss it," Russia said. "Litva?"
Lithuania did not cringe. He turned to face Russia, who was doing his looming-slightly-too-close to Estonia at the moment; the other country was doing his level best to not cower. "Yes, Rossiya Toravishch?"
"You will serve dinner like this, yes?"
Lithuania did almost snap the duster in his hands. "... I ..." He glanced at Estonia. Estonia decisively avoided his gaze. "Fine," he said tightly. "Rossiya Toravishch."
Russia beamed at him. "That is good! I like it when you are cute, Litva. It makes me very happy."
Lithuania forced a wavering smile in return, cursing Estonia in his head.
Estonia sneezed.
"Ah, do not catch a cold," Russia said, concerned. "Let's go upstairs ..."
As the other nation was led away Lithuania remained standing where he was in corner of the foyer.
There were certain humiliations that all of the USSR bloc shared. Simply having a Soviet Russia-friendly government forced on them was the biggest one. The humiliation of having their culture subsumed and Russia's forced down their throats - literally, at mealtime - was another. Being beaten for uprisings, well ... they should have done better jobs coordinating, but it was almost impossible in Russia's house. He was always there. Getting shit-faced on vodka because of a drinking game Russia made them play, sure, they'd all been there. But this was a new one. This was unbearable.
With Russia out of sight, Lithuania held the duster like a dagger hidden up his sleeve and fantasized that he would tell Russia exactly where he could stuff this outfit. Then he more realistically tried to imagine how he'd react if he was Poland. (Ugh, black and frilly is totally not my style! This is so ew! Tell Japan it's bright fall colors that are all the rage right now, and slinky - yeah, slinky dresses!)
At least Lithuania could smile at that image. Too bad Poland was in Siberia right now. Lithuania felt terrible for him - he'd been to Siberia too, once, and he'd pretty much do anything to never go again - but if he knew Poland - and he knew Poland better than anyone else - he'd come back fine. Like a phoenix rising, Lithuania thought.
"Holy shit," someone said from the far end of the foyer. "Are you fucking kidding me?"
Lithuania jerked his head up and found himself looking at East Germany-formerly-known-as-Prussia-formerly-known-as-the-Teutonic-Knights. He had been carrying a pile of tablecloths, but those were now in a heap at his feet as he apparently had decided to stop and stare at Lithuania.
Lithuania turned scarlet again.
Reply
"East," Lithuania said through his teeth.
East stepped over the tablecloths and walked into the foyer, making no secret of how he eyed Lithuania up and down. "I'd never have guessed how fetching you'd look in a dress. Just what possessed you to put this on? Finally decided to follow Pol'sha's lead?"
"Rossiya," Lithuania said through a throat tight with humiliation and anger.
East clicked his tongue. "Tch! Rossiya doesn't seem like the type," he sneered.
"Well. Now we both know something new about him." Lithuania struggled to regain his usual equilibrium; he'd have to serve dinner wearing this, after all, and giving into the urge to up-end a platter of borscht on the head of anyone who so much as snickered at him would not end well. "You'll want to pick up those tablecloths before Rossiya comes back downstairs."
"Yeah, probably," East agreed, but he circled Lithuania just outside of arm's reach nonetheless, eyes fixed on Lithuania's hemline. "You'll probably want to get back to dusting, Miss Litva."
Lithuania prayed for patience. "I'll do that presently." It took all his willpower, but he stiffly turned back to the table he'd stopped halfway through cleaning.
"Just one thing," East said from behind him. "That pretty outfit come complete with panties?"
Lithuania could have borne the comment. He really could have. What he couldn't take was East's fingers brushing his rear as he flipped Lithuania's skirts to find out for himself.
It might have been 150 years since Lithuania had last seen use for a dagger, but he was still holding the duster like one. He spun on the balls of his feet, lunged, and plunged the duster's handle into East's solar plexus.
The breath whooshed out of East's lungs and he staggered backwards. Lithuania smiled sweetly at him. "Touch me again," he said. "Please. I'd like the excuse."
East was doubled over, but Lithuania knew the look East gave him; it was a look he'd been giving Lithuania for several hundred years until Lithuania and Poland beat it out of him. "Yeah, princess?" he wheezed. "Bring it on--!" He took a swing at Lithuania's midsection.
If East was set back by lack of air, Lithuania was hampered by the high heels - which proved to be a boon when East got him in a headlock and Lithuania slammed the pump down on East's instep. East yowled and grabbed his apron strings and the thing half-fell off before he was jerked back again, punched in the ear, and one arm wrenched up his back. "I feel bad beating up a chick," East snarled, fisting Lithuania's petticoats.
"I'd feel bad about beating you up again," Lithuania panted as he elbowed East in the face with his free arm, giving East a bloody nose, "but you're not even a country any more."
"Low blow," East snarled and pile-drove Lithuania with his arms and head, sending them both sprawling to the floor.
Reply
"Fuck no," East snarled between short breaths.
Lithuania made to wrench East's arm up even further - which would have been difficult sprawled on top of the former nation as he was - but just then he heard the sound of plates shattering. Instinctively he looked up at the sound and found - of course - Latvia, who was shaking and staring with a shattered plate of appetizers at his feet. "L-L-L-Litva?" he said.
Lithuania came back to himself, realizing what they looked like: bloodied faces, swollen jaws, Lithuania in an askew maid's dress with torn ruffles all flipped up his back exposing his (very manly) boxers as he pinned East to the ground in a wrestler's grip. He blushed. "Ah, Latvii," he started, but it was too late.
"Rossiya Toravishch!" Latvia cried, running up the stairs. "Rossiya Toravishch, East and Litva-- they've hurt each other--!"
"Ah, damn, why does the kid do that?" East asked, spitting out a tooth.
"He - doesn't remember much besides Rossiya's house," Lithuania said. He loosened his hold on East slightly with the intention of getting up before suddenly changing his mind - he was already in deep trouble with the host nation, and he'd have a hard time making it worse. "Now - will you be flipping my skirts again?"
East cursed. "Just let me up, will ya?" But it was too late for Lithuania to get his promise because from upstairs he heard Estonia cry, "Latviaaa!" and Russia's office door slamming open.
Lithuania laughed ruefully into East's back. At least if he was sent back to Siberia for this, he knew he'd have Poland for company.
tbc
Reply
Leave a comment