Fic: A Crown of Snow, Chapter Two
Disclaimer: Not mine, Axis Powers Hetalia and the characters belong to Hidekaz Himaruya.
Time Frame: 1952
Note: Thanks go to my amazing beta Redundant Goddess.
Prequel: Little Royalty
Chapter One: I Sleep Alone
One day, Raivis finally built up the courage to look.
He was not sure why, in fact he still did not feel able to look. There was nothing special about this day, pale grey snowy skies, with a normal day of not doing that much. Yet here he was, in the attic, standing in front of the oversized mirror, because today, something inside him decided that this was the day.
Russia was not at all vain, but the mirror had been a gift from a past ruler, so he of course kept it, albeit covered and hidden away now. He may be a staunch communist now, but even Russia kept a small part of his frozen heart for keeping gifts from his old Czars. It was the biggest mirror in the house, and he wanted to be sure that no one else would see him, so Raivis had used all his strength to drag the mirror that was twice his size over to the window to get the best light, and once he got his breath back, he pulled down the dustsheets to finally reveal his reflection.
‘God, (it was okay to say that in his head, Russia could not read his thoughts) I don’t look any different’. In all honesty, he knew that he would look the same, but there was a part of him that was expecting, hoping maybe, to look terrible, like someone who has had a massive shock. But as a nation he of course healed quickly, and he looked like the same runt of the Baltics before the accident. The marks on his previously broken leg were nearly gone, a few small scars that would probably disappear before the end of the week, and from what he saw and felt, his chest was only slightly bruised. However he knew something was different, which was why he was here, shaking hands on the buttons on his shirt. Now he was here, his courage started to fail him, and he hesitated for several minutes, unable to even face his trembling reflection. Somehow, he again gathered enough courage to lift his head towards the mirror and face his reflection. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and held the two sides apart as he looked. As he thought, small yellowing bruises dotted his skin, marking where his ribs had been broken, and like the marks on his leg they would be gone within a few days, leaving the mostly unscarred flesh that he knew Russia liked so much. Without being really conscious of what he was doing, he saw his reflected hands undoing his belt and unbuttoning his slacks, thumbs pushing down the waistband of the trousers and his underwear a few vital inches.
His breath caught in his throat.
He was right, undeniably, there it was.
Below his bellybutton, just above his sparse pubic hair, was a horizontal scar several inches long that almost resembled an angry red line. It was healing, but clearly not as fast as the others. He had deliberately avoided looking at himself while he was undressed, but the occasional twinges of pain always let him know there was something not right.
Raivis touched the scar lightly with his fingers, he was not entirely sure why it was not healing as fast as the others, the only thing he could think was because of what had been taken from it, what he had miscarried…
How was it even possible? For nations the whole mechanics of why some nations could conceive once or a few times in their life if at all, male or female, was still pretty fuzzy, but he had never ever heard of a nation aborting or miscarrying a prospective nation or region. Maybe it had happened, but not in his lifetime? Conception and birth happened so rarely most that had given birth or witnessed it were long dead, and what knowledge there was left was hearsay passed from parents. But no one at all seemed to know why a few were born, and most like himself would just appear one day as a toddler. Even if a new place had one or two nation ‘parents’, it would usually simply be found and recognized as theirs. He had heard of a few places in the Americas that resulted in a few new nations or regions born because of their European conquers, but they were rumours, and because he had been far away from those nations and under Russian he had never had a chance to find out.
But what Russia had said before was true, from what he knew conceived nations followed the path of their parents, especially the one with the dominant personality and culture. Russia and his sisters had been conceived and born, so probably Russia was following the logic that since he had been born, and was such a powerful nation that he could…
Raivis was not sure how long that ‘plan’ had been going, could have been months or years in this place, but out of all the nations, he had been the only one to…become that way, and he lost it through a simple accident. Maybe it just was not meant to be? Maybe he was just unlucky? That would make sense, bad luck had dogged him his whole life.
This was giving him a headache, Raivis was not stupid but he really tried not to think too much about things, it was his safety net and he liked it that way. Even when Ravis was alone with Russia, there were times were the older taller nation was so cruel and thoughtless; he hated the sex that followed. Yet, there were other times when Russia was not unkind, almost sweet in his own strange way, and Raivis liked those times very much.
Ravis did not want to go into why, why he would love those times and feel sick with guilt after. But… one time with the Russian had made something, and after a fall it was gone.
In a way he was so glad he would not be replaced, he may have spent most of his life living under the control of other nations but he was still Latvia, not a dumb pet that had to be put down because he did not please his master. He knew he was small, weak, and a cry-baby, but he was a nation, nothing would replace him. Nothing.
The knowledge of this made him smile a little, but it faltered when he fully rested his hands on his flat stomach.
Nine weeks.
He had no idea at the time, but the doctor said the dizziness was probably a side effect of the pregnancy, much less common than sickness but still a symptom. If Raivis had not fallen, in just over two months from now he would have started to show, and he’d be confused about why he was getting fat when he always picked at his food, and it would be Russia or one of his brothers who would figure it out before him. But now there was nothing, just a line marking where it had been removed, and the scar would fade like the rest, most of the rest. The scar over his heart always stayed.
He had never thought about being a parent, never expecting Russia’s ‘plan’ would really work. Like everyone else he had hoped Russia would get bored, his boss would tell him to stop or died, whichever came first.
The things Russia said he would do to him if the pregnancy had continued, they made him shake with the thought. When he heard the words slip from Ivan’s mouth, he had been in so much pain and confusion that the only emotion he had left in him was pure disgust. In way he still was disgusted, but still at night he lay in bed thinking of what could have been. The thought of the knife sickened him, but thoughts of being wrapped in warmth and loved like a precious treasure, someone special, and not just one of a set pushed aside the sickness and made him feel slight butterflies in his stomach.
Estonia was missed by the Nordics, and Poland and America missed Lithuania, whereas Latvia was always the one you got as a bonus on your way to conquering or freeing other nations, no one care for him or missed him. Russia said he missed him terribly when he took him back in 1940, but even Raivis knew he was just reassembling his old empire under a new name; the Soviet ‘family’. In that hospital room, with Russia looking so sad at the loss of ‘their treasure’ before nearly crushing his windpipe, underneath the fear he had felt the tiny spark of the warmth of being special. But after what happened afterwards, he only wanted to cry and run away. Even now he was shaking, and in his reflection he saw tears beginning to form in his eyes.
He didn’t want to be special like this.
-
Russia had called him into his private living room, and now was sat on the couch, holding an opened letter in his hand. His heart began to flutter when he saw it; from where he was standing he could see the familiar loopy handwriting, bearing his name. A letter just for him!
Aside from Russia, the other occupants of the house received very infrequent mail. Due to the fact because they did not deal with their countries’ at all, apart from the occasional coerced signature on a form they did not get the chance to read, and having very few people that could keep in contact after the war, they never really expected much. Before, even when part of the empire, they would get letters and small gifts around their birthdays and Christmas from friends and former occupiers. Russia would always open them first but the letters were so precious that no one minded. But now...There were those rare times when Toris would get little scribbled notes from Mr Feliks asking him to come round to the house (where the other soviet states lived), but on the whole the only mail they received on a semi-regular basis was from their regions. They were allowed because they were of the union anyway and looked after their part of the countries while the nations themselves stayed with Russia. Even so, sometimes the letters arrived months after the dates written inside, sometimes with sections blacked out or even pages missing. Eduard had not received a letter for over a year.
Thanks to Kurzeme, Raivis received the most regular letters, mostly because she wrote very nicely without really saying anything. Sadly she was also his biggest source of information about his country, since his other regions were mostly allergic to writing, doing outdoors work, or just didn’t want to speak to him most of the time. Zemgale, Vidūmō, Latgale, and Sēlija would generally try to send letters around his birthday, but usually they would just talk to Kurzeme and she would add things to her letters.
The last one had been nearly three months ago, and despite himself he was nearly bouncing on the spot from anticipation, while Russia only seemed to find this amusing and continued to smile. Then again, everything Ravis did, seemed to amuse Russia. Though Toris might’ve been the favourite, Russia certainly seemed to like picking on him the most. When it looked like Russia was not going to give him the letter, he waited in an impatient silence until he simply could not take anymore.
“Please, I-Ivan,” He remembered to use his first name this time, “M-may I…may I-”
“Please do not be impatient; I need to make sure the material in this is suitable for you, Да?” Russia cocked his head to the side with that same smile, almost daring him to point out that he had probably already read it.
“O-of course,” Raivis’s eyes slid to the floor, and listened to the sounds of the Russian pulling the letter from the envelope and opening it slowly. Eventually he heard the paper fold, and looked up hopefully.
“Come closer,” The letter was on his lap now, and Raivis swallowed before he stepped forward, picking up the letter before sitting on Russia’s lap. This was a fairly normal practice and so he did not jump too badly when the Russian immediately turned him so he was sitting on his lap sideways, and raised his knees so that his feet were now resting on the edge of the couch, with one arm comfortably around Raivis’s shoulder.
He kissed his forehead, and said no more as the Latvian’s shaking hands opened the paper; he knew he had to read it aloud.
“Dear Mr Latvia,
How are you feeling? I feel bold for writing this so early on in my letter and without even asking in a polite way, but lately we all have been very tired, perhaps because of all the changes happening in our lands, so many people have moved around and so many changes. Brother Zemgale it’s like a stomach-ache, so many people moving across the country that his stomach feels like its rolling over and over. He is so silly like that; it is probably a hangover he is feeling.
I have found work in the grain storehouses at the old Rundāle Palace, it may not be one of the farms but I am happy here, helping making sure our people are fed equally and I can stay in the building of my old palace. I do feel sad when I see the walls of the other parts of the building starting peel and the ceilings leaking, but I know in my heart once the USSR’s star has outshone the world, everything will be made beautiful again.
I am so sorry that this letter is short but I do not have much time to write. I shall write again the next time I hear from all my brothers and sisters so I can make the next letter longer.
I almost forgot! Sēlija came round for dinner last night, she said hello to you, Mr Russia, Mr Lithuania and Mr Estonia. She is has been saving up to make decorative sashes for everyone and hopes she will be finished in time to send them for new year gifts, as well as one for Mr Russia’s birthday of course .”
“I like her, she has so much spirit and a refreshing attitude, although maybe it is a little worrying that she is so attached to that old building.”
Russia commented softly when he finished, while Raivis allowed himself to briefly smell the paper, the familiar smell of sea air that Kurzeme’s letters always brought, before quickly stuffing it back into the abused envelope. Then he realised what Russia said.
“Ah, m-maybe it is because it was her old seat for the Dukes, and anyway, um she, s-she is glad that it is now being used properly.”
“Hmmm, maybe I should recommend that it should be torn down?” Russia stroked his hair, ignoring the increased trembling, “then again, like you say it is being used properly, all of the old palaces here now their proper use. If Mr. Stalin has decided the buildings will stand he knows best, how kind of him Да?”
“Y-yes, very kind.”
Normally at this point Russia would either let him go or start pulling his hair, so when he did nothing he began to worry. When the taller man kissed his temple, he looked up towards him fearfully. Smiling as always, he could never tell what he was thinking, but right now he could not think that he had done anything to displease him since he had come back, so maybe he just wanted sex.
The Russian leaned forward and kissed him in a fairly chaste way, before his tongue lightly licked against Raivis’s slightly parted lips.
“You have been so sad, tell me what is wrong,” He whispered.
“Nothing-”
“Don’t lie, liars are always punished,”
The smaller nation could not think of what to say and looked away, hoping the Russian would not grow angry at his silence.
“Since you fell you have had such a sorrowful look in your eyes. Is it because of our loss?”
A loss? Could you lose something you never knew you had?
Raivis closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I…I didn’t know that I was… and now that it’s gone I don’t know how to feel. It’s almost like being told someone related to you that you’ve never heard of has died, I feel terrible and weak for saying that but it’s how I feel.”
Instead of being shoved away, strong arms held him close, and despite himself he relaxed a little into the embrace. He should punch Russia in the face for doing this to him, but right now he needed someone who almost understood. But it none of it was real, Raivis reminded himself, Russia didn’t feel any kind of sympathy for others, to him anything that made others unhappy was because they were always defective in one way or another, mainly for not being Russian.
He didn’t realise he had been crying until he felt a gloved hand wipe away the tears, and startled, he looked up at Ivan’s wistful face. If he did not know any better he would think he seemed sympathetic, as the Russian spoke softly;
“Please do not feel sad, that your body was strong enough to carry life at all shows how special you are. As I said before I know that the others are so envious of you.”
Raivis shook his head, if anything they were glad not to be him right now.
“They do, you made something so beautiful before it was taken from us, I know because I saw it, the surgeon saved it for me. It was very tiny and only vaguely human shaped, and do you know what I did? I held it in the palm of my hand before I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and came straight home. I buried it in the garden in front of the house and marked the spot with an old sickle, so every morning when I look out my bedroom window I will remember, and so will you.”
Raivis sobbed.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
EDIT: I'm such an idiot, I forgot to add my notes >.>
For pregnancy-related stuff, I'm using my own knowledge and wikipedia. I don't have any kids but I work part-time at a Early Pregnancy and Ante-Natal clinic, so I know quite a bit.
As for the hetalia-pregnancy, there’s not much given away in canon, so I'm using a mix of canon, fanon and my own theories.
The four cultural regions of Latvia are Courland (Kurzeme in Latvian), Semigallia (Zemgale), Vidzeme (Vidūmō), and Latgallia (Latgale). They officially do not exist as land boundaries anymore, but the 'cultural regions' exist because they have their own food and culture and so look after their own part of the country. Selonia (Sēlija), is considered to part of Semigallia now, but the region used to belong to Lithuania, so she's really saying hello to him, but Kurzeme reworded it to show respect to Russia and Latvia.
The 'old Rundāle Palace' Kurzeme writes about is the old summer residence for the Dukes of Courland built in the 1730s. It fell into decline in the 20th century, and parts of it was used as a grain storehouse and a school, but now its been beautifully restored and I totally want to visit :D
Also, Latvia during Stalin's time was used to build a lot of gulags and collective farms, aka the 'Kolkoz'.
Review please!
Time Frame: 1952
Note: Thanks go to my amazing beta Redundant Goddess.
Prequel: Little Royalty
Chapter One: I Sleep Alone
One day, Raivis finally built up the courage to look.
He was not sure why, in fact he still did not feel able to look. There was nothing special about this day, pale grey snowy skies, with a normal day of not doing that much. Yet here he was, in the attic, standing in front of the oversized mirror, because today, something inside him decided that this was the day.
Russia was not at all vain, but the mirror had been a gift from a past ruler, so he of course kept it, albeit covered and hidden away now. He may be a staunch communist now, but even Russia kept a small part of his frozen heart for keeping gifts from his old Czars. It was the biggest mirror in the house, and he wanted to be sure that no one else would see him, so Raivis had used all his strength to drag the mirror that was twice his size over to the window to get the best light, and once he got his breath back, he pulled down the dustsheets to finally reveal his reflection.
‘God, (it was okay to say that in his head, Russia could not read his thoughts) I don’t look any different’. In all honesty, he knew that he would look the same, but there was a part of him that was expecting, hoping maybe, to look terrible, like someone who has had a massive shock. But as a nation he of course healed quickly, and he looked like the same runt of the Baltics before the accident. The marks on his previously broken leg were nearly gone, a few small scars that would probably disappear before the end of the week, and from what he saw and felt, his chest was only slightly bruised. However he knew something was different, which was why he was here, shaking hands on the buttons on his shirt. Now he was here, his courage started to fail him, and he hesitated for several minutes, unable to even face his trembling reflection. Somehow, he again gathered enough courage to lift his head towards the mirror and face his reflection. He slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and held the two sides apart as he looked. As he thought, small yellowing bruises dotted his skin, marking where his ribs had been broken, and like the marks on his leg they would be gone within a few days, leaving the mostly unscarred flesh that he knew Russia liked so much. Without being really conscious of what he was doing, he saw his reflected hands undoing his belt and unbuttoning his slacks, thumbs pushing down the waistband of the trousers and his underwear a few vital inches.
His breath caught in his throat.
He was right, undeniably, there it was.
Below his bellybutton, just above his sparse pubic hair, was a horizontal scar several inches long that almost resembled an angry red line. It was healing, but clearly not as fast as the others. He had deliberately avoided looking at himself while he was undressed, but the occasional twinges of pain always let him know there was something not right.
Raivis touched the scar lightly with his fingers, he was not entirely sure why it was not healing as fast as the others, the only thing he could think was because of what had been taken from it, what he had miscarried…
How was it even possible? For nations the whole mechanics of why some nations could conceive once or a few times in their life if at all, male or female, was still pretty fuzzy, but he had never ever heard of a nation aborting or miscarrying a prospective nation or region. Maybe it had happened, but not in his lifetime? Conception and birth happened so rarely most that had given birth or witnessed it were long dead, and what knowledge there was left was hearsay passed from parents. But no one at all seemed to know why a few were born, and most like himself would just appear one day as a toddler. Even if a new place had one or two nation ‘parents’, it would usually simply be found and recognized as theirs. He had heard of a few places in the Americas that resulted in a few new nations or regions born because of their European conquers, but they were rumours, and because he had been far away from those nations and under Russian he had never had a chance to find out.
But what Russia had said before was true, from what he knew conceived nations followed the path of their parents, especially the one with the dominant personality and culture. Russia and his sisters had been conceived and born, so probably Russia was following the logic that since he had been born, and was such a powerful nation that he could…
Raivis was not sure how long that ‘plan’ had been going, could have been months or years in this place, but out of all the nations, he had been the only one to…become that way, and he lost it through a simple accident. Maybe it just was not meant to be? Maybe he was just unlucky? That would make sense, bad luck had dogged him his whole life.
This was giving him a headache, Raivis was not stupid but he really tried not to think too much about things, it was his safety net and he liked it that way. Even when Ravis was alone with Russia, there were times were the older taller nation was so cruel and thoughtless; he hated the sex that followed. Yet, there were other times when Russia was not unkind, almost sweet in his own strange way, and Raivis liked those times very much.
Ravis did not want to go into why, why he would love those times and feel sick with guilt after. But… one time with the Russian had made something, and after a fall it was gone.
In a way he was so glad he would not be replaced, he may have spent most of his life living under the control of other nations but he was still Latvia, not a dumb pet that had to be put down because he did not please his master. He knew he was small, weak, and a cry-baby, but he was a nation, nothing would replace him. Nothing.
The knowledge of this made him smile a little, but it faltered when he fully rested his hands on his flat stomach.
Nine weeks.
He had no idea at the time, but the doctor said the dizziness was probably a side effect of the pregnancy, much less common than sickness but still a symptom. If Raivis had not fallen, in just over two months from now he would have started to show, and he’d be confused about why he was getting fat when he always picked at his food, and it would be Russia or one of his brothers who would figure it out before him. But now there was nothing, just a line marking where it had been removed, and the scar would fade like the rest, most of the rest. The scar over his heart always stayed.
He had never thought about being a parent, never expecting Russia’s ‘plan’ would really work. Like everyone else he had hoped Russia would get bored, his boss would tell him to stop or died, whichever came first.
The things Russia said he would do to him if the pregnancy had continued, they made him shake with the thought. When he heard the words slip from Ivan’s mouth, he had been in so much pain and confusion that the only emotion he had left in him was pure disgust. In way he still was disgusted, but still at night he lay in bed thinking of what could have been. The thought of the knife sickened him, but thoughts of being wrapped in warmth and loved like a precious treasure, someone special, and not just one of a set pushed aside the sickness and made him feel slight butterflies in his stomach.
Estonia was missed by the Nordics, and Poland and America missed Lithuania, whereas Latvia was always the one you got as a bonus on your way to conquering or freeing other nations, no one care for him or missed him. Russia said he missed him terribly when he took him back in 1940, but even Raivis knew he was just reassembling his old empire under a new name; the Soviet ‘family’. In that hospital room, with Russia looking so sad at the loss of ‘their treasure’ before nearly crushing his windpipe, underneath the fear he had felt the tiny spark of the warmth of being special. But after what happened afterwards, he only wanted to cry and run away. Even now he was shaking, and in his reflection he saw tears beginning to form in his eyes.
He didn’t want to be special like this.
-
Russia had called him into his private living room, and now was sat on the couch, holding an opened letter in his hand. His heart began to flutter when he saw it; from where he was standing he could see the familiar loopy handwriting, bearing his name. A letter just for him!
Aside from Russia, the other occupants of the house received very infrequent mail. Due to the fact because they did not deal with their countries’ at all, apart from the occasional coerced signature on a form they did not get the chance to read, and having very few people that could keep in contact after the war, they never really expected much. Before, even when part of the empire, they would get letters and small gifts around their birthdays and Christmas from friends and former occupiers. Russia would always open them first but the letters were so precious that no one minded. But now...There were those rare times when Toris would get little scribbled notes from Mr Feliks asking him to come round to the house (where the other soviet states lived), but on the whole the only mail they received on a semi-regular basis was from their regions. They were allowed because they were of the union anyway and looked after their part of the countries while the nations themselves stayed with Russia. Even so, sometimes the letters arrived months after the dates written inside, sometimes with sections blacked out or even pages missing. Eduard had not received a letter for over a year.
Thanks to Kurzeme, Raivis received the most regular letters, mostly because she wrote very nicely without really saying anything. Sadly she was also his biggest source of information about his country, since his other regions were mostly allergic to writing, doing outdoors work, or just didn’t want to speak to him most of the time. Zemgale, Vidūmō, Latgale, and Sēlija would generally try to send letters around his birthday, but usually they would just talk to Kurzeme and she would add things to her letters.
The last one had been nearly three months ago, and despite himself he was nearly bouncing on the spot from anticipation, while Russia only seemed to find this amusing and continued to smile. Then again, everything Ravis did, seemed to amuse Russia. Though Toris might’ve been the favourite, Russia certainly seemed to like picking on him the most. When it looked like Russia was not going to give him the letter, he waited in an impatient silence until he simply could not take anymore.
“Please, I-Ivan,” He remembered to use his first name this time, “M-may I…may I-”
“Please do not be impatient; I need to make sure the material in this is suitable for you, Да?” Russia cocked his head to the side with that same smile, almost daring him to point out that he had probably already read it.
“O-of course,” Raivis’s eyes slid to the floor, and listened to the sounds of the Russian pulling the letter from the envelope and opening it slowly. Eventually he heard the paper fold, and looked up hopefully.
“Come closer,” The letter was on his lap now, and Raivis swallowed before he stepped forward, picking up the letter before sitting on Russia’s lap. This was a fairly normal practice and so he did not jump too badly when the Russian immediately turned him so he was sitting on his lap sideways, and raised his knees so that his feet were now resting on the edge of the couch, with one arm comfortably around Raivis’s shoulder.
He kissed his forehead, and said no more as the Latvian’s shaking hands opened the paper; he knew he had to read it aloud.
“Dear Mr Latvia,
How are you feeling? I feel bold for writing this so early on in my letter and without even asking in a polite way, but lately we all have been very tired, perhaps because of all the changes happening in our lands, so many people have moved around and so many changes. Brother Zemgale it’s like a stomach-ache, so many people moving across the country that his stomach feels like its rolling over and over. He is so silly like that; it is probably a hangover he is feeling.
I have found work in the grain storehouses at the old Rundāle Palace, it may not be one of the farms but I am happy here, helping making sure our people are fed equally and I can stay in the building of my old palace. I do feel sad when I see the walls of the other parts of the building starting peel and the ceilings leaking, but I know in my heart once the USSR’s star has outshone the world, everything will be made beautiful again.
I am so sorry that this letter is short but I do not have much time to write. I shall write again the next time I hear from all my brothers and sisters so I can make the next letter longer.
I almost forgot! Sēlija came round for dinner last night, she said hello to you, Mr Russia, Mr Lithuania and Mr Estonia. She is has been saving up to make decorative sashes for everyone and hopes she will be finished in time to send them for new year gifts, as well as one for Mr Russia’s birthday of course .”
“I like her, she has so much spirit and a refreshing attitude, although maybe it is a little worrying that she is so attached to that old building.”
Russia commented softly when he finished, while Raivis allowed himself to briefly smell the paper, the familiar smell of sea air that Kurzeme’s letters always brought, before quickly stuffing it back into the abused envelope. Then he realised what Russia said.
“Ah, m-maybe it is because it was her old seat for the Dukes, and anyway, um she, s-she is glad that it is now being used properly.”
“Hmmm, maybe I should recommend that it should be torn down?” Russia stroked his hair, ignoring the increased trembling, “then again, like you say it is being used properly, all of the old palaces here now their proper use. If Mr. Stalin has decided the buildings will stand he knows best, how kind of him Да?”
“Y-yes, very kind.”
Normally at this point Russia would either let him go or start pulling his hair, so when he did nothing he began to worry. When the taller man kissed his temple, he looked up towards him fearfully. Smiling as always, he could never tell what he was thinking, but right now he could not think that he had done anything to displease him since he had come back, so maybe he just wanted sex.
The Russian leaned forward and kissed him in a fairly chaste way, before his tongue lightly licked against Raivis’s slightly parted lips.
“You have been so sad, tell me what is wrong,” He whispered.
“Nothing-”
“Don’t lie, liars are always punished,”
The smaller nation could not think of what to say and looked away, hoping the Russian would not grow angry at his silence.
“Since you fell you have had such a sorrowful look in your eyes. Is it because of our loss?”
A loss? Could you lose something you never knew you had?
Raivis closed his eyes and took a deep breath, “I…I didn’t know that I was… and now that it’s gone I don’t know how to feel. It’s almost like being told someone related to you that you’ve never heard of has died, I feel terrible and weak for saying that but it’s how I feel.”
Instead of being shoved away, strong arms held him close, and despite himself he relaxed a little into the embrace. He should punch Russia in the face for doing this to him, but right now he needed someone who almost understood. But it none of it was real, Raivis reminded himself, Russia didn’t feel any kind of sympathy for others, to him anything that made others unhappy was because they were always defective in one way or another, mainly for not being Russian.
He didn’t realise he had been crying until he felt a gloved hand wipe away the tears, and startled, he looked up at Ivan’s wistful face. If he did not know any better he would think he seemed sympathetic, as the Russian spoke softly;
“Please do not feel sad, that your body was strong enough to carry life at all shows how special you are. As I said before I know that the others are so envious of you.”
Raivis shook his head, if anything they were glad not to be him right now.
“They do, you made something so beautiful before it was taken from us, I know because I saw it, the surgeon saved it for me. It was very tiny and only vaguely human shaped, and do you know what I did? I held it in the palm of my hand before I wrapped it in a piece of cloth and came straight home. I buried it in the garden in front of the house and marked the spot with an old sickle, so every morning when I look out my bedroom window I will remember, and so will you.”
Raivis sobbed.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
EDIT: I'm such an idiot, I forgot to add my notes >.>
For pregnancy-related stuff, I'm using my own knowledge and wikipedia. I don't have any kids but I work part-time at a Early Pregnancy and Ante-Natal clinic, so I know quite a bit.
As for the hetalia-pregnancy, there’s not much given away in canon, so I'm using a mix of canon, fanon and my own theories.
The four cultural regions of Latvia are Courland (Kurzeme in Latvian), Semigallia (Zemgale), Vidzeme (Vidūmō), and Latgallia (Latgale). They officially do not exist as land boundaries anymore, but the 'cultural regions' exist because they have their own food and culture and so look after their own part of the country. Selonia (Sēlija), is considered to part of Semigallia now, but the region used to belong to Lithuania, so she's really saying hello to him, but Kurzeme reworded it to show respect to Russia and Latvia.
The 'old Rundāle Palace' Kurzeme writes about is the old summer residence for the Dukes of Courland built in the 1730s. It fell into decline in the 20th century, and parts of it was used as a grain storehouse and a school, but now its been beautifully restored and I totally want to visit :D
Also, Latvia during Stalin's time was used to build a lot of gulags and collective farms, aka the 'Kolkoz'.
Review please!