In order to celebrate HETALIA'S anime adaptation. AXIS POWERS HETALIA KINK MEME
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hetalia kink meme
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Okay, let's make history and be more epic than these people, shall we?
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The shabby quilts are as soft as snow around them. The light from the fire is warm and low.
They share tea from Ivan's samovar, when they can stir themselves from the bed; it is not the fine beer that Matthew received as a gift, and yet the company is a kind of gift in its own right. They sit curled comfortably on the bed, Matthew's back against Ivan's chest, the quilt draped loosely around Ivan's shoulders.
"I am so happy," says Matthew, when the tea is low in his cup and he has begun to feel pleasantly drowsy. "Say that we can ... that we can meet again, like this?"
When Ivan's silence stretches on, Matthew feels a sudden chill.
At length, the Russian shifts and leans against the wall, taking the quilt with him. "There is no gold here, no good iron, and even the otters have moved on ... there is nothing," he says into his teacup. "I work and work in the snow, and my hands get rough and I spend my money for nothing. I feel like a prisoner here--this place is worse than Siberia."
"But this is a good country!" Matthew says hastily. "We have been good neighbours to each other--I am at peace here." The last statement is the most true. "Can you not be at peace here, too? Even if there is no gold, no fur--"
"I have sold this house to Alfred," Ivan answers. "Soon he will come to make plans and change the place to suit his needs ... I made very little from the sale, but at least I will not be selling myself daily to live in this wasteland."
"So this is a wasteland for you." Matthew stands, still naked and aching, hair damp with sweat and snowmelt. He puts his teacup down upon the table, the tea unfinished, and he begins to dress. He can't bring himself to look up and watch Ivan's face fall.
"I am not running from you!" the Russian cries, standing all at once, his tea sloshing over the quilts. "This has nothing to do with you--only with this land. It is not Russia. It isn't home ..."
"It is my home. And now there will be Americans next to my cabin, making noise and killing bears, ripping the land apart for the gold that you couldn't find ... I thought you cared about me, even a little." His trousers are fastened, his stockings are on; his shirt won't fasten because it's inside out--
"I do care about you," says Ivan, but he doesn't hold out his hand, and he sits back down on the bed. Matthew straightens his shirt and buttons it neatly, before lugging on his boots and his jacket and his coat.
He pauses in the doorway, aware that he is perilously close to tears. "Remember this day," he says softly. "One day, you'll want to be close to me again--you'll do everything you can to be close to me again--and I'll tell you that I won't have you as my neighbour."
A breath of chill air blows through the cabin as he departs.
He is crying, but as he cries, Matthew is resolving to himself that he will be all right. The high pines are the same as they were before; the fish will still gather beneath the hole in the ice on the lake; in the summer there will be honey and berries and fat bears playing in the valleys.
He can stand to be alone. After all, that was why he came here.
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and the snowsex was gorgeous. in every way. :D
(also, their meals sound awesome. fry bread with honey and maple syrup. and ivan has a samovar. heeeee.)
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(Fry bread with honey is awesome, and you should absolutely eat it.)
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I promised to pay money for this, didn't I? Well, you can have the password to my bank account, if you want it. Or my firstborn, or anything you'd like, really.
The tears in my eyes are not because of the unfortunate end to Canada's and Russia's relationship (and by the way, how awesome is it that the ending of the fic itself wasn't sad in spite of the sad end of their relationship? About as awesome as everything else about this fic, I'd say!), but because of the sheer beauty of the story. It is perfect in every respect, and utterly satisfying. I'd start listing what I particularly liked about it, but the magnitude of the task leaves me mute - I think of one thing, and it is perfect; I think of another, and it is perfect too, and it never ends. So instead of providing a full list, I'll just ramble and gush at you for a while and hope it'll suffice to express my happiness!
I've never known I have a thing for well-described Northern nature, but apparently I do! You make it sound so serene and, uh, majestic in a down-to-earth way (? lol) - the place where people find themselves. You make the part of my soul that was formed by Jack London resonate in long-forgotten ways. ("His gloves are warm, and lined with rabbit fur." - ah, how it resonates!)
Canada's wonderful deep love for his land is contagious! I know rationally that I wouldn't be able to stand the cold, but I still really, really want to visit the north of Canada, make a print-out of your fic, re-read it while standing knee-deep in snow, then go home. I guess I'll have to content myself with eating fry-bread and honey (not fish soup made in the Russian way, though! Don't know how others make it, but Russian fish soup doesn't taste at all good to me).
Talking about resonance - this fic is incredibly well-written. Such a lovely and lyrical style, I lose myself in it each time I re-read. Also I have a thing for 19th century prose, thank you for indulging me!
I love your Matthew and I love your Ivan. Even if this were an original standalone story, even if they didn't have the layers of meaning that are added through the fact that they are countries, I would love these characters. Which is why I can use their human names when talking about your fic. Usually I find the human names another useless obstacle to my suspension of disbelief, but I have come to care about your characters as Matthew and as Ivan. Oh, sparsely beautiful (melting again at this wonderful phrase, by the way) Ivan, philosophical and with intense passion buried like lava under tectonic plates! Oh, self-sufficient Matthew, admirable like Lithuania is admirable, finding and building a life of quiet gladness for himself in the snows, so very unostentatiously! I adore their ability to take what life gives them - although Ivan seems to be losing it by the end, was that meant to foreshadow his later madness?
Oh, and one thing I'm curious about: is there a reason why Ivan has a tendency to reuse Matthew's words when he answers him? ("Please" - "I want to please", etc.)
I love how Matthew detests the Americans making noise. Anxiety about the Industrial Revolution is so historically appropriate. ;v;
I also love how you frequently mention the care they take to keep warm. That instantly made the situation real to me.
It's getting late and I'm getting incoherent, so I'll stop here. This fic is worth at least its own length in passionate and involved comments, so I haven't come close to really expressing how much I like it, but I hope this gives you a faint idea and makes you feel at least a little of the happiness your fic filled me with.
Thank you.
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I'm glad that the ending worked for you; I was afraid that it would destroy the mood of the piece rather than (as I had hoped) complicate it. And--you know I like gushing. XD
A large part of my early reading experience was shaped by the survival novel genre; I fell in love with the idea of those great, unpeopled spaces. To this day, the northern landscapes of Canada and Scandinavia have a special resonance for me--and I'm glad that I could communicate some of that wonder in my writing. (I actually live very close to the border with Canada, now--sometime, I've got to just cross the border and head northwest. Be out in those landscapes, the way I can't in this busy American city.)
Eee, glad you could see them as people! I've had a hard time writing these using people-names instead of country-names, most of the time--but this one just worked. Also, I like that you've compared my Matthew to Lithuania, since I get a similar feeling from the characters. Which could be the proximity to Canada talking again. ^_~ As for the repetition, that started when I realized that I was writing this for my lady. Our characters often play word games with each other, repeating one another's words with altered meanings; I know that she enjoys that sort of wordplay, so I included it.
You are my absolute favorite reviewer, and I'm ever so grateful for you. ^____^
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Yes, that's what it did for me. And I feel complicating is the thing most appropriate to historical endings, because, well, it was all far too complicated, historically, to express in a single story (although I suppose "War and Peace" gets pretty close to that ideal?..)
Aha, I see! I was wondering if you had lived in such a landscape for a long period of time. I doubted if experiencing such a winter during a short vacation, or just taking a city winter and magnifying it, could give you the means to describe it so deeply.
Hmm, should I be looking forward to the day when I see a country-name-using fic from you? Because that would be awesome.
I haven't actually thought Canada and Lithuania were similar in character, but I guess they are, once you manage to forget the cowering Canada that Japanese fanartists so love to draw and think of actual history/politics.
I'm glad you feel that way, because I'm totally in love with you as an author.
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Also I realize I forgot to look for comments on the Pooh-sticking fic after you mailed me (reread that too today), which is a shame, because then I'd have known about the subscribe feature by now.
And I'm pretty much on the same page as you regarding Russian literature - I'm familiar with 18th-19th century classics, but still somewhat intimidated of the Silver Age.
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I've lived in a very isolated and forested area, so that much was familiar and home-feeling--but the particular geography of the north got inscribed on me by other writers. ^__^
XD The Canada I know is tough, straightforward, patient, and very tolerant of its overbearing neighbor. It's competent and difficult to ruffle and reserved--with occasional, violent identity crises, a tendency to let others take the lead, and a checkered history. ^_^;; So. I have a thing for fanfic writers who make Canada shy rather than cowering.
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Isn't it brilliant? Subscribing means that I can sit back comfortably without mad F5-ing. ^_~
Well. The Silver Age has always read as plain uglier than the Golden Age, to me. I can't find as much that's worth loving in people, in those works. (But this could just be my own warped perception of what the literature's like.)
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Far as I'm concerned, that description's canon as of now. And indeed almost all of it can apply to Lithuania.
Yes, the subscription feature is definitely brilliant! Now I have to madly F5 one page only, which is still a whole lot more comfortable!
Obviously I must read more. We had a thin volume of Yesenin at home, and these poems were some of the most beautiful that I've ever read - but the couple of his poems that I've looked up at random just now really are rather brutal.
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I liked this pairing before, but this story made it an inner OTP of mine. Thank you amazing writer!
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I think Russia/Canada is an OTP of mine, too--but awesome!self-sufficient!Canada is my biggest Hetalia kink ever. ^_^;;
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I didn't ship Russia at all, before, but you've managed it. I am SO GLAD I went looking for Canada!fic today--just--ahhhhhh. ♥ *SAVES FOREVER*
Any chance of links to more of your work, writernon? That's how much I loved this.
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