Re: Stars (2/3)
anonymous
June 17 2009, 11:21:34 UTC
It seemed inconceivable to him now that he’d ever been quite that innocent- that he’d ever been quite that free- that he’d ever had the strength to draw his sword and make the whole world listen. Those days were too far removed from the ache in his knees gained by scrubbing floors all day, from the dirty, soapy water that had drenched his apron. It was another life; a distant dream he’d had, perhaps, of the way things might have been.
But it was a pleasant dream all the same, and in this place where stern mustached men watched solemnly from oil paintings, this place where every room was an array of problems that needed tending to and furniture to be kept clean, pleasant dreams were a rarity indeed. And so Lithuania allowed it to stay as he worked- allowed his mind to wander to the way Poland’s hand had felt those first few times, palms warm but fingers unsure- the way Poland’s lips had curved up, just a little, into a shy smile- the way the nation who would be his partner had grown, in time, to forget that bashfulness entirely.
Lithuania could recall the very first kiss, on a night not unlike this one: the tentative press of lips together, the gratitude he’d felt that the cover of darkness would hide his blush. He could recall the first time that Poland had tried wódka, then still a new thing. He’d supported the other nation with one arm as the little blonde reeled and babbled, had seen him to his house and then to bed, and through the window the stars had been watching that night, too.
There might have been more- certainly, his thoughts seemed willing enough to wander from the task at hand- but the floor ran out before his memories did, the cloth pressing in a wet line against the far wall. Lithuania regarded it blankly for a moment, lack of sleep making his return to reality a slow one; then he rose, shakily, and moved to set the cloth in the bucket once more.
There were five rooms left, yet, before he could consider himself done. With luck, he’d be able to finish them before it was time to begin preparing for tomorrow’s breakfast. With a bit more, there would be time enough between the two for him to get some rest.
Hefting the bucket, Lithuania walked to the bedside lamp, flicking the switch to chase its yellow glow from the room. As he turned toward the door, he caught sight of the window- of the stars that, freed of their competition, seemed suddenly much brighter.
He did not say it- not in this place where things were recorded, where Russia always heard, where even tiny slips could end in pain. But as he twisted the doorknob to leave, he thought it: someday. Someday, let it be like that again.
* * *
“Oh my god, Liet! Did you see that one?” The little blonde squeezed his hand, dragged him a few incautious steps nearer the edge of the roof. Below them, Poland’s yard stretched away, cloaked in darkness; above them, the meteor shower glittered and flashed, painting shimmering lines across the sky. “That one was totally the best yet!”
“I’m not so sure, Poland.” In the darkness, Lithuania’s smile was invisible, but the teasing note crept into his voice all the same. The other nation’s excitement was an infectious glow, beginning in his chest and spiraling outward. “They were awfully bright when we first came out here…”
Re: Stars (3/3)
anonymous
June 17 2009, 11:23:22 UTC
“You’re so not even looking anymore, are you?” The little blonde huffed dramatically, prodded his lover ungently in the ribs. “We get, like, the best show ever, and you’re totally not even paying attention.”
And perhaps it was true, because before he’d so much as finished the sentence, Lithuania was using the grip of their interlaced fingers to pull him closer. There was a moment of hesitation- a pause no longer than a breath of air, in which gentle fingers reached to touch Poland’s face- and then their lips were together, a kiss at once both tender and desperate. Their arms circled round each other without hesitation, found places to hold and clung as though to dispel the fear that this was nothing more than a beautiful dream. So many times before, it had been only that- and something safe and comfortable in a world that was seldom either had been driven away by the light of morning.
This time, however, the moment held- and when they broke for air, Poland was laughing, the sound giddy and warm. “I knew it! I was totally right. You’re so not even looking anymore.”
And it was a triumph, but one that Lithuania didn’t mind conceding- and after he leaned in to press his lips to Poland’s a second time, neither took much notice of the celestial display above them any longer.
Historical notes: The first two scenes are set between 1945 and 1990- Soviet times, in other words. Russia’s concrete additions refer to the heavy urbanization that went on during the period; the trees are oaks because Poland has some very famous, very old oak trees. Pre-Christian Lithuanian did indeed worship several deities pertaining to the sky, and the briefly-recalled bonfire scene is meant to be Rasos, the old summer solstice festival. Wódka became popular in Poland around 1400; for the sake of this fic, I’m assuming Poland had tried it before then.
Author's notes: OP, I'm so sorry. I know this doesn't follow the story very closely, but I hope it suffices. <3
Re: Stars (3/3)
anonymous
June 18 2009, 13:49:26 UTC
This was so lovely anon! I have no other words for it other than breathtaking. It was so relaxing. I loved the part where Liet was remembering his summer solstice and Poland was just watching because he was Christian.
Oh so cute and sad and happy! You did a good job describing the different perspectives of the characters. This anon was glad for Liet and Poland! I'm so glad they were together for real in the end~!
But it was a pleasant dream all the same, and in this place where stern mustached men watched solemnly from oil paintings, this place where every room was an array of problems that needed tending to and furniture to be kept clean, pleasant dreams were a rarity indeed. And so Lithuania allowed it to stay as he worked- allowed his mind to wander to the way Poland’s hand had felt those first few times, palms warm but fingers unsure- the way Poland’s lips had curved up, just a little, into a shy smile- the way the nation who would be his partner had grown, in time, to forget that bashfulness entirely.
Lithuania could recall the very first kiss, on a night not unlike this one: the tentative press of lips together, the gratitude he’d felt that the cover of darkness would hide his blush. He could recall the first time that Poland had tried wódka, then still a new thing. He’d supported the other nation with one arm as the little blonde reeled and babbled, had seen him to his house and then to bed, and through the window the stars had been watching that night, too.
There might have been more- certainly, his thoughts seemed willing enough to wander from the task at hand- but the floor ran out before his memories did, the cloth pressing in a wet line against the far wall. Lithuania regarded it blankly for a moment, lack of sleep making his return to reality a slow one; then he rose, shakily, and moved to set the cloth in the bucket once more.
There were five rooms left, yet, before he could consider himself done. With luck, he’d be able to finish them before it was time to begin preparing for tomorrow’s breakfast. With a bit more, there would be time enough between the two for him to get some rest.
Hefting the bucket, Lithuania walked to the bedside lamp, flicking the switch to chase its yellow glow from the room. As he turned toward the door, he caught sight of the window- of the stars that, freed of their competition, seemed suddenly much brighter.
He did not say it- not in this place where things were recorded, where Russia always heard, where even tiny slips could end in pain. But as he twisted the doorknob to leave, he thought it: someday. Someday, let it be like that again.
* * *
“Oh my god, Liet! Did you see that one?” The little blonde squeezed his hand, dragged him a few incautious steps nearer the edge of the roof. Below them, Poland’s yard stretched away, cloaked in darkness; above them, the meteor shower glittered and flashed, painting shimmering lines across the sky. “That one was totally the best yet!”
“I’m not so sure, Poland.” In the darkness, Lithuania’s smile was invisible, but the teasing note crept into his voice all the same. The other nation’s excitement was an infectious glow, beginning in his chest and spiraling outward. “They were awfully bright when we first came out here…”
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And perhaps it was true, because before he’d so much as finished the sentence, Lithuania was using the grip of their interlaced fingers to pull him closer. There was a moment of hesitation- a pause no longer than a breath of air, in which gentle fingers reached to touch Poland’s face- and then their lips were together, a kiss at once both tender and desperate. Their arms circled round each other without hesitation, found places to hold and clung as though to dispel the fear that this was nothing more than a beautiful dream. So many times before, it had been only that- and something safe and comfortable in a world that was seldom either had been driven away by the light of morning.
This time, however, the moment held- and when they broke for air, Poland was laughing, the sound giddy and warm. “I knew it! I was totally right. You’re so not even looking anymore.”
And it was a triumph, but one that Lithuania didn’t mind conceding- and after he leaned in to press his lips to Poland’s a second time, neither took much notice of the celestial display above them any longer.
Historical notes: The first two scenes are set between 1945 and 1990- Soviet times, in other words. Russia’s concrete additions refer to the heavy urbanization that went on during the period; the trees are oaks because Poland has some very famous, very old oak trees. Pre-Christian Lithuanian did indeed worship several deities pertaining to the sky, and the briefly-recalled bonfire scene is meant to be Rasos, the old summer solstice festival. Wódka became popular in Poland around 1400; for the sake of this fic, I’m assuming Poland had tried it before then.
Author's notes: OP, I'm so sorry. I know this doesn't follow the story very closely, but I hope it suffices. <3
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<3
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Great Job!
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ANON.
I DON'T LIKE POLAND/LIET.
SO WHY THE FUCK AM I CRYING DAMN YOU.
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