Fic: Like Cobwebs, Part Three (Hetalia, Poland/Lithuania)
Part One, Part Two
"Coffee?" Poland said chirpily, holding up the jug of steaming black liquid.
"No, thank you," Lithuania said, drinking the beer he had watered down to make more suitable for breakfast. He shuddered as Poland drank two enormous cups of the coffee one after the other, ladling in sugar to lessen the bitterness. They ate in companionable silence - food was still among the few things that could stop Poland talking, Lithuania noted - making their way through much of the contents of Poland's cupboards.
"Whew, I'm totally stuffed," Poland said. "How did we manage to eat that every day?"
"We usually have a bit more," Lithuania said. "We need to keep our energy up for fencing and other martial pursuits and riding and dancing in the evening -"
"You're making me feel guilty for, like, vegging out in front of the TV," Poland said, no guilt in his voice at all. "Let's get you properly dressed."
"Let's not go to this meeting," Lithuania said hopefully. "Do you still like horses? We could ride out and be by ourselves."
"I love horses," Poland said with a wide grin. "We can go riding after the meeting. C'mon, Liet. Up those stairs and into a suit."
Lithuania obediently trailed up the stairs, thinking how much he hated the clothes deemed appropriate for men, how naked he felt wandering round without a weapon and how disconcerting it was that when they went back downstairs the food and dirty plates from breakfast would still be on the table and they would have to clean them up themselves. He let Poland dress him as if he were dressing a doll and sat glumly before the unnaturally good mirror to allow Poland to brush and tie back his hair.
"There now," Poland said, his hands warm on Lithuania's shoulders. "You look lovely." He dropped a light kiss on the top of Lithuania's head.
"I don't," Lithuania said. "I look ridiculous. I look like a fool. No one wears proper clothes any more, Polska."
"I suppose you'd like me to be, like, dripping with velvet and lace?" Poland smiled, striking a pose.
"Yes."
"And Hungary to wear something down to the floor, and Russia to have been wearing one of those things with the really long sleeves?"
"He's tall enough to carry it off well enough," Lithuania muttered. He sighed as Poland laughed. "I'm being foolish, I know."
"Remember," Poland said, "this is your real time, your memory is just on the futz. You know I'm telling the truth." He lightly traced the path of their shared scar down Lithuania's side. "Bad things happened, Liet, but we're still here and we're still friends. You just have to remember, and you totally will." He patted Lithuania's shoulders encouragingly. "Let's go. There's nowhere to put horses, or I'd say we could ride, but as it is -"
"I'm not getting back in that "car" thing," Lithuania said firmly.
"We'll be there in the blink of an eye," Poland said. "I can show you round modern Warsaw another time." He tugged Lithuania up and pulled him by the hand back downstairs, where he quickly put the food away and piled the plates and cups up to be washed later. "Your notes," he said, handing the papers to Lithuania, "and my notes, and we're off!" He tucked an envelope of papers under his arm, took Lithuania's hand again and led him to the front door, opening it to show a busy street, people and awful cars everywhere. "Be brave," he grinned. "Remember, you're the Republic of Lithuania."
"I'm the Grand Duchy of Lithuania," Lithuania corrected him, and stepped through the door. They ran across the street and into the building Poland indicated, a massively tall edifice made, it seemed to Lithuania, almost entirely of glass. It was a relief to see solid walls inside. Poland led him to a large room, where several nations were already gathered, some looking weak and hungover. Hungary turned from speaking with Ukraine, and smiled at them over a cup of what Lithuania could smell was strong coffee, and he blushed scarlet, looking away quickly.
"What in God's name is Hungary wearing?" he whispered. "I - I can see her knees, Polska!"
"That's a totally flattering cut," Poland said, eying up Hungary's scandalously abbreviated clothing. "Hey, Hungary, Liet likes your skirt."
"Polska!" Lithuania hissed.
"Good morning," Hungary said, looking amused. "Are you all right, Lithuania?"
"Thank you," he said, fixing his eyes firmly on hers and not allowing his gaze to move in any direction. "I fare well." Ukraine's clothing was as bad, too tight and making the shape of her body indecently clear. "Excuse me." He walked off a little, pretending to feign an interest in the table on which more jugs of coffee and some little cakes had been laid out to tempt those who felt it a long time since breakfast.
"Is he upset I couldn't come along last night?" he heard Ukraine say in worried tones behind him. "My boss doesn't like me socialising with my brother -"
It sounded like she was close to tears. Lithuania got a very clear image of how she would quiver in her scandalous modern clothes when she cried and kept his eyes on the table.
"Unggh," Bulgaria said beside him, swallowing an entire cup of coffee down and looking a little ill.
"Good morning," Lithuania said, decoding it as a greeting.
"Unnngh," Bulgaria said in a more warning tone, nodding at something behind him before grabbing a plate of cakes and another cup of coffee and staggering off.
"Good morning, Lithuania!" Russia's happy voice said. "Do you have a hangover? So many people do - it's so funny!"
Lithuania half-turned to glare at him. It would not be politic, he reminded himself, to fight with him at Poland's carefully arranged meeting. "Have some of this coffee," he said.
"Pour me some," Russia said, a cheery smile on his pink-cheeked face. "I miss the days you would bring me my breakfast."
"Pour it yourself, I'm not your damned servant," Lithuania snapped, outraged.
"Not at the moment," Russia giggled.
Poland materialised by Lithuania's side before he could raise his clenched fist. "Hi!" he chirped, holding tight to Lithuania's wrist. "Have a pastry, Russia, the ones on the end are filled with strawberry and vodka preserves."
"Maybe Lithuania will get one for me," Russia said happily.
"Maybe you can fuck yourself," Lithuania said in such a sweet tone of voice that it took a few glorious seconds before it registered on Russia's face. He grinned at the look of sheer astonishment in Russia's eyes and the way he didn't seem able to close his mouth. "Good morning!" he added, and swept off, leaving Poland to try to convince Russia he was still drunk and hadn't heard properly. He sat in the place at the table marked with his name and waited for the meeting to begin. Finally everyone was seated and people began to report about the state of trade in their houses. He smiled at Poland and pressed his knee against his until he got a forgiving grin in return. He listened as best he could to other people, trying to make sense of what they talked about. When it was his turn he looked beseechingly at Poland who rose and said,
"Liet's got a cold and a sore throat, so I'll, like, read it for him." He took the papers from Lithuania and made sense of the notes and pictures in a way Lithuania knew he never could. After everyone else had spoken America rose and talked about what he wanted to sell and what he'd buy from everyone's houses, and what help he could give if people needed it. When it was all finally over everyone trooped into another room where food was laid out on a long table. Lithuania watched people fill plates and stand in little groups, chatting. He followed suit and watched everyone else as he ate bread and meat.
"Hey, Lithuania," America said cheerfully. "You're not eating much, here -" He handed his own plate to Lithuania and went back to get more for himself, returning quickly. "So, what gives?" he said, round a mouthful of sausage. "Russia looks like someone smacked him in the face every time he looks at you, Austria's been avoiding you and looks scared if he meets your eyes and you've been really, um -" he went red, " - obvious about, er, you and Poland."
Lithuania smiled, a little shamefacedly. It was different talking about such things when people weren't drinking, and America seemed to be more easily embarrassed than he'd at first realised. "Russia and Austria," he said, "offered insult to both me and Poland. I let them know my opinion." There was no point in saying the insult was two hundred years in the past. People took satisfaction and vengeance when they could, after all.
"Good for you," America said. "You should come to visit my house. You and Poland," he said quickly.
"Thank you," Lithuania said. "You must visit our - my house too." He tried to remember anything he knew about America from his own time. England, he thought. He was sure he'd heard that England had visited the territory that America now lived in. "Do you stay in England's house when you come to Europe?"
"No," America said, looking surprised. "Not unless I've come on business to do with him."
Lithuania made a non-committal sound, not wanting to display his ignorance. "Do come to stay," he said, both out of obligation to return promised hospitality and because he found he liked this apparent friend of his. He wondered if he should ask England's permission, then decided such a small island nation should be glad the Commonwealth showed amicable interest in his colony. "You should visit both of us -" He looked round and gestured to Poland to come over. "Polska, you would think it very good for America to come for a friendly visit, wouldn't you?"
"For sure," Poland said, flashing a quick grin and turning his attention back to the little thing he called a phone. "Don't mind me," he said, pressing its tiny buttons, "I'm just checking on clothes shops." He pursed his lips and nodded decisively, closing it with a snap. "Come and stay," he said to America. "I'll give you some real food."
"Hamburgers are fine," America said in alarm. "You people over here eat bits of animals no one was ever meant to eat."
"Ah, there's Belarus," Lithuania said. "If you will excuse me a moment -"
He bowed slightly and went towards her, hearing America behind him say in a worried tone, "Say, do you think we'll have to put him back together? She looks in a mean mood."
Belarus did indeed look as if she were annoyed with the world, Lithuania thought, her fine features drawn down in a scowl as she looked around. He stood a respectful distance from her and bowed.
"Belarus -"
"What do you want?" she snapped. "I'm looking for my brother."
"I must apologise for being discourteous to you last night," he said. "Fortune changes for all of us, and it was not the act of a gentleman to remind you of a time when you were not independent." It would be equally discourteous, he told himself, to show how scandalised he was by her clothing. While her skirts were not as short as the garment Hungary was wearing, her calves and ankles were clearly on show. At least she was wearing thick stockings, but if she had dared to wear such an outfit in his house he would have had to chastise her for indecency. She glared at him as if she would attack, and he thought of her as he remembered her, with a vile temper and all-too-ready to reach for the kitchen knives when irritated.
"You should apologise to Russia," she said. "He didn't mean to do it."
"Do what?" Lithuania said.
"Make me feed so many people," she said venomously. "He didn't mean to take all my food. Everyone has to do what their bosses say. It wasn't his fault."
He saw he had offended her in some way he didn't understand, yet that could not be left unaddressed. "I am sorry to have caused such offence, Belarus," he said. "Accept my apologies, I pray you. I won't trouble you further." There was hurt in her eyes under the anger, he saw. He'd ask Poland about it, he decided, and bowed again before leaving her. When he rejoined America, Poland was nowhere to be seen.
"I've been told you're under the weather and I should take care of you," America said, sounding rather more gleeful than Lithuania liked. "Poland said to tell you he had to pick up some clothes. Come on, I'll get you some lunch that'll really build you up." He grabbed Lithuania's elbow and pulled him from the room and down to the level of the street. Lithuania saw they would have to cross the street, so he took a deep breath and walked out amongst the cars with America, trying not to show how terrifying it was. He had barely breathed a sigh of relief when they safely reached the far side before America dragged him after him down the street and into a brightly lit hostelry of some kind.
"Sit!" America said. "How many Big Macs do you want? And which shake?"
" - you decide," Lithuania said. He sat and looked around at the other people eating. They seemed to be eating meat between pieces of bread; it didn't seem that different from what Poland had supplied for the meeting, but if America was happy he supposed it was all right. America returned quickly, carrying a tray with food on it. Lithuania didn't voice his opinion of the obvious sloth of the serving girls and boys.
"I got eight, is that all right?" America said. "You eat what you want, I can always get more." He unwrapped one of the packages, devouring the meat and bread inside with clear enjoyment.
Lithuania took a cautious bite of another of the pieces of food. The bread was soft and oddly sweet, and the meat and cheese dressed with pickled vegetables and a mild sauce were not very flavourful, but it wasn't bad. The strips of fried vegetable were tasty, especially when he followed America's example and salted them well. He paused after his first mouthful of the thick, milky drink. "What is this?" he said.
"You've never had a chocolate shake before?" America said in horror. "You're not like France, are you? You're not going to pretend you're dying of food poisoning? Because that was really rude -"
"It's delicious," Lithuania said.
America's smile was wide and bright. "I'll get you another one!" he said, and shot back to the counter. He soon returned in triumph, bearing several more of the drinks. "Don't let them melt too much, drink up!"
Lithuania smiled and did his best, though he found it difficult to match America's appetite. It was impressive how much food he could eat in such a short time, Lithuania thought. If their pace had been more leisurely he was sure he could have eaten more, but as it was it was hard to eat so quickly.
"You know, it's not my business, but I figure, seeing as we're friends -" America started, keeping his hands off the last of the meat and bread packages with clear difficulty, "when you were in my house you said Poland was awful bossy, and hogged all the blankets and that sort of thing."
Lithuania snorted a quiet laugh. "Yes," he said, "that's what Poland's like." America must be a good friend, he thought, if he talked like that about Poland to him.
"Last night -" America said, and went red. "He's not bossing you round into being his boyfriend, is he? Or is it because of the recession? Because you don't have to put up with that, and if you want to come to my house till things settle down -"
Lithuania deciphered what he'd said and shook his head as America went redder. "He's not that bossy," he said with a laugh. Then, as it seemed he and America were good friends indeed, "Don't worry - I know perhaps in recent years things have been different between Poland and me, but we were together for a very long time. Even when he really annoyed me I didn't want that to change." He patted America's arm. "It is good of you to be concerned, but Poland isn't always so bossy. There are times he does exactly what he's told to - at least when he knows he'll have as much pleasure of it as will I."
America mumbled something in a flustered way, then cleared his throat. "I'm going to get another couple of burgers - do you want one? No? I'll get dessert too - you can manage a few apple pies and McFlurrys, right?"
He was already at the counter when Lithuania said, "Thank you, but -" He shook his head in amusement, and made himself eat the small pies that America came back with. They were almost finished when something about America's person played a jaunty little tune and he fished out a small device that seemed similar to Poland's "phone". He fished it out and squinted at the glass panel on the front before raising it to his ear. "Hey, Poland!" he said into it. "No, I haven't stolen him, he's right here enjoying some good American food. We'll be back soon. Yeah, see you then." He slurped up the last of his drinks and ate the last few mouthfuls of his food. "Poland wants you back," he said with a grin. "I guess he's scared you might be having such a good time you'll want to come back to my house for good. Are you feeling any better now?"
"I'm all right, thank you," Lithuania said, which wasn't really true, but he didn't want to burden anyone else with his problem.
"Hey," America said as they left, "you know I'll do my best to help you out if you need it, right?" He blushed a little, looking at him from under his eyelashes, and Lithuania could see how young he was.
"Thank you," he said, touched.
When they returned to the building the meeting had been in, Poland was sitting on the desk in the hall on the ground level, swinging his feet as the guardsmen tried to do their work despite his chattering to them. He jumped down and skipped over, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Did you have fun?"
"We sure did," America said. "Right, Lithuania?"
"Yes," Lithuania said as Poland linked arms with him and cuddled close.
"I've got to go," America said. "Russia wants a word in private. Any idea where he is?"
"Belarus was closing in - he said he needed a drink," Poland said. "The nearest bar's just down to the right, about fifty metres."
"Thanks," America said and made an odd gesture Lithuania didn't know how to interpret, holding his fingers to his ear. "Call me if you want to chat, Lithuania."
"Yes," Lithuania said, as some sort of response seemed to be called for, and watched him leave. "Did you get your errands done?" he asked.
"Yup. How many burgers did he make you eat?"
"Nearly four," Lithuania said, "and some fried vegetables in the French style, with fruit pies and sweet cold drinks and something called "ice cream". Have you ever had that? It was very good."
Poland laughed at him. "No ice cream in 1575, dude. See? The modern world totally has advantages." He swung Lithuania round cheerfully. "Let's go home, I've got something to show you."
They went back to Poland's house by way of several shops, Poland buying little gifts for him until Lithuania had to laughingly tell him to stop. He felt laden down with pens that mysteriously contained their ink within them, new ribbons for his hair, bright pictures of Warsaw on stiff paper and bag after bag of sweets. Poland just grinned and pulled him along, pointing out tall buildings and busy people. It was very like, Lithuania thought suddenly, the days before they had first joined together, when Poland had been eager to show off his fine cities and fashionably dressed citizens.
"Your city is still beautiful," he said, and Poland looked pleased.
"I totally had my depressed grey concrete phase, like everyone," he said, "but it's looking nice again, huh?" He grinned at Lithuania's incomprehension, and pointed at a stolid grey building. "That's concrete. Kind of bleh, huh? We should, like, go to Krakow too."
"And on to Vilnius," Lithuania said. His cheerful mood died. "I should have gone straight to Vilnius. Who knows what's happening there?"
"Everything's fine," Poland said soothingly.
"Then why does my heart race so?" Lithuania said, and held Poland's hand over his heart. "Feel -"
"It's not really any faster than usual," Poland said. "The pace of modern life is hectic, Liet. Quit worrying, I totally checked things out when I was getting your notes." He winked. "You can trust me, but like I said, you've really got to change your password! Let's go home first, then we'll go wherever you want, OK?" He pulled Lithuania down a side-street, unlocked an unassuming door at the side of a shop, and revealed his own hallway beyond.
It was a relief to be out of the crowds, Lithuania thought. Everyone seemed to walk so fast, to be in such a rush to get where they were going. Poland's house was blessedly quiet, apart from Poland humming to himself and then exclaiming in glee over something in the hall cabinet. When Lithuania tried to see what it was, he was unceremoniously pushed into another room.
"No peeking!" Poland said in excitement. "Here, you watch TV for a while -" He fiddled with a device covered with buttons, and a glass box suddenly came to bright, noisy life. Lithuania jumped in startlement and glowered as Poland laughed at him. "Dude, no need to look so scared, it's just daytime kids' programming. Press here -" he indicated buttons on the device, "- to change channels. I won't be long." With that, he was gone, leaving Lithuania staring warily at tiny people behind the glass.
"Have you ever wondered," a miniature, bizarrely-dressed woman asked, "where cheese comes from?"
"No," Lithuania said. "I've always known where -" She didn't seem to require an answer, however, as she vanished suddenly to be replaced by cows in a sunlit field. Lithuania gingerly pressed a button on the device Poland had left with him, and the cows vanished as well, earnest people appearing in their place to talk about the intimate details of their lives. "Stop," Lithuania said in horror, and pressed buttons at random. "I don't like this," he muttered to himself, pressing each button in turn until finally the box went dark and dead once more. He wandered round the room, wondering if he should go after Poland, and knowing that he'd be scolded for spoiling whatever surprise was in store. "I'm not sure I can take any more surprises, Polska," he sighed, and sat quietly, closing his eyes. After a little he slipped to his knees, thinking he could at least pray for things to make sense. It was a comfort to lose himself in the familiar recitation of his prayers, and when he opened his eyes again he heard Poland coming down the stairs.
"Liet?" Poland called from outside the door. "I'm ready - if you laugh at me I'll be bummed, OK?"
"Why would I laugh?" Lithuania said. The door opened, and Poland came in, his face a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. Lithuania covered his mouth with his hands, not wanting to laugh at all. Poland raised an eyebrow as he stood there in żupan and kontusz, its sleeves thrown back, and looked more defiant than embarrassed.
"You said you wanted me to wear something proper -"
It wasn't quite right, Lithuania thought. Poland would never have worn such a plain green coloured kontusz that fought with the colour of his eyes, and the żupan should have been covered with embroidery, but the cut was neat enough, the linen shirt collar just visible was pristine and white, his hose were close-fitting and unwrinkled, and the hand that clasped the top of a silver-pommeled walking stick was brightly adorned with a ring on each finger. His hair hung in careful ringlets and Lithuania felt his eyes fill with tears at the sight of his own Polska standing before him. "Oh, Polska," he said.
"Hey, don't start crying," Poland said. "I thought you'd be pleased -" Lithuania hugged him tight. "I guess you are. We can go riding tomorrow morning, how does that sound? I bet I can find someone with a hawk if you want to go hawking."
"You look - yourself," Lithuania said, holding him at arms length and looking him up and down.
"I had to go to, like, four different costume shops," Poland grinned. "And then I bought some cheap bling -" he waggled his fingers at Lithuania so he could see the jewels were paste of some kind, set in base metals. "Most of mine got stolen," Poland said ruminatively. "Or I had to pawn them. This one I kept, though." He held his hand up and Lithuania looked at the thin gold ring set with a small, rounded garnet. It had never been worth much, but it had been one of the first presents he had given Poland, back when he'd been recovering from civil wars and unable to match the gifts that had been given to him. "I'm never pawning this one," Poland said, and, "Oh, Liet, it's all right, don't be sad -"
Lithuania got himself under control and kissed Poland soundly. "You look very fine," he said. "Very fine."
"I totally used to wear shinier stuff than this, and so did you. People act like the past was all muted and sepia, with these boring colours," Poland said. "Still, it's what they had in my size. It's what they had in your size too, want to go and change?"
"You got me proper clothes?" Lithuania said in delight. "Do you think they'll fit?"
"Dude," Poland said and smiled in a way that made Lithuania blush, "I know your size very well. Let's go, c'mon!" He bustled Lithuania up the stairs and opened the door to his chamber with an air of revealing great mysteries. Laid out on the bed were a shirt, a russet velvet żupan and matching hose, and a plain red kontusz. Lithuania eagerly let himself be helped out of the horrible modern clothes and into the proper ones, lifting his hair as Poland settled the kontusz neatly on his shoulders. The soft shoes were a little tight, but not uncomfortable. When he looked at his reflection he felt utter relief to see himself as he should have been - or at least, as he might have dressed if he were seeing absolutely no one at all, and was wearing his oldest, plainest clothing. Poland brushed his hair unmercifully and tied it back again neatly, grinning in delight at how his surprise had been appreciated.
"Let's go out," he said. "Let's go to Krakow."
"Dressed so plainly?" Lithuania said, and laughed, feeling himself once more. "Poland, people might jeer at you."
"Pfft, it's my house and I'll wear what I want in it. We can go to Mass in the cathedral this evening if you like?"
"Yes," Lithuania said. "I'd like that." He let himself be whirled round and pulled back down the stairs.
"We'll, like, go to the old town and you'll feel right at home, and then we'll go to Mass and then have some dinner and then we'll come back!" Poland said, pulling another cloak from the hall closet and throwing it about Lithuania's shoulders. "It'll be fun!" He opened his door to show buildings Lithuania had seen only days before, shining and new, now looking older, yet still familiar. "Oh, Liet, just one thing, don't start acting all shocked in church, but it won't be in Latin, OK?"
"It won't?" Lithuania said in surprise. He looked at Poland suspiciously. "We haven't become Protestants, have we?"
Poland laughed, and pulled him out into Krakow.
* * *
Lithuania covered his eyes as the bright morning sunlight streamed in. His head protested in pain with every breath, his neck ached from trying to hold himself perfectly still as he slept. He tried to move the pillows to make himself more comfortable and was overcome by nausea. He staggered from the bed and out the door, and turned the wrong way, staring blankly at the wall instead of the bathroom door. His legs recognised Poland's house before his mind did, and he got into the bathroom to fall to his knees by the toilet just in time to throw up. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and then his hair was being pulled out of his face, Poland making meaningless sounds of comfort. Even through his misery Lithuania could tell he was trying to hide his disgust.
"Can I get you some water?" Poland said and made a soft ewww noise as the mere thought made Lithuania heave again. "You're going back to bed, no riding this morning," Poland said, and left him alone. Lithuania gasped for air, then felt a cold shiver deep inside himself, and managed to get up to sit on the toilet in time. He was still there when Poland came back. "Eww," Poland said, not trying to hide his grimace. "Let's get you cleaned up, Liet."
Lithuania let himself be hauled up and endured Poland tucking his hair into one of his silly bath-caps before putting him in the shower and turning the water as hot as he could stand. It felt good after the first shock and he obediently washed and then let himself be pulled back out and wrapped in a towel and vigorously dried.
"Brush your teeth," Poland commanded, and when he'd done so, "Back to bed, come on!" Lithuania wandered into the doorway of his room, confusedly registering that the bed looked unslept in, and then let himself be led into Poland's room to see the bed turned down and waiting. "In you get, I've put nice clean sheets on it for you," Poland said, and tucked him in, making sure the pillows were at the right height. He swished the curtains closed and Lithuania felt better in the dim room. "I'll go and deal with the laundry," Poland said, pulling on a dressing gown, "and I'll bring you something in a little while to settle your tummy." He stroked Lithuania's hair, which Lithuania thought was nicer than being bossed round, and patted at the pillows one last time. He gathered up the pile of sheets that had been deposited on the floor and stood there, hugging them to him as if he would rather hug Lithuania. "Try to sleep," he said, sounding worried.
When Lithuania woke again Poland was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a mug. "Hey," he said quietly. "Try some of this -" Lithuania struggled into a more upright position and took the mug, sipping at the bland broth it contained. It did help, he thought, and he made himself finish before sinking back against the pillows.
"What the hell were we drinking last night?" he said.
"Not much," Poland said. "I mean, we had beer, wine and vodka, sure, but it's not like we went on a binge with Russia or anything. We ate the same things - maybe your fish was off. How do you feel?"
"Like someone kicked me in the head," Lithuania said. "Can I have some paracetamol?"
"Yeah, just a mo -" Poland said, jumping up. He paused, looking down quizzically, then shook his head and ran off, returning moments later with a glass from the bathroom and a packet of painkillers. Lithuania swallowed a couple down and thought that he might move in an hour or so if they started to work.
"Thanks," he said. "Poland, could you go online and check my economy hasn't crashed? I feel awful."
" - Sure," Poland said. "Hey, Liet? Do you know what day it is?"
"Monday," Lithuania said, closing his eyes.
"Actually, it's Wednesday; what year is it?"
"Huh?" Lithuania said, cracking an eye open. "It's 2009, what year did you think it was?"
"Ah," Poland said, sounding - a little regretful, Lithuania thought. "I'll go and check on your economy. Go back to sleep." He leant over and plumped the pillows again, and left the room quietly.
Lithuania got up at last, still feeling weak, driven from bed by a growing hunger. At least he didn't feel sick any more, he thought as his stomach rumbled. He found Poland downstairs, folding wet sheets into the laundry basket, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt; clearly he hadn't been out of the house, Lithuania thought. "I'll make some warm milk," he said.
"You'll sit," Poland said, "I'll make you some breakfast. How's the head?"
"Sore," Lithuania said. "Not as bad as it was." He watched Poland heat milk for him, and drop slices of bread in the toaster.
"Unless you'd like some beer," Poland said with a little smile as he put the toast and milk in front of him.
Lithuania looked at him in bewilderment. "Why would I want beer at breakfast?" He sipped the milk and spread butter and jam on a slice of toast, nibbling it carefully. His stomach didn't rebel, so he happily finished it. "Did you check my economy?" he said.
"Yeah - nothing unusual. You're back to normal." Poland looked at him a little wistfully, then stole one of the slices of toast, crunching it up before it could be reclaimed.
"Mm," Lithuania agreed, "I'm much better, I don't feel sick at all. I should get my notes for the meeting, we can go over both of ours today. Could I have some more toast, please?"
"The meeting was yesterday," Poland said, not looking at him as he went back to the toaster. "It went OK, you don't have to worry." He turned to Lithuania, taking a breath. "You've totally not been yourself that last couple of days, but I said you'd feel better soon, and you do, which is, like, great! I was kind of worried, and I wanted you to be yourself again, so you know, it's really good you feel so much better." He tucked his hair behind his ears, muttering, "Would have been nice to get to go riding with you, though."
"Yesterday?" Lithuania said. "Why can't I remember? What happened? Poland, tell me you didn't wear a skirt!"
"Sheesh," Poland said. "You totally worry too much about my clothes and not enough about your own. You asked me to speak for you so I did and for your information I was wearing a suit. With trousers. For the last two days you thought it was 1575 - it was kind of cool, actually. You didn't take shit from anyone."
"I what?"
"For real, dude. You slapped Russia down, you did something to Austria, but I guess Hungary will sort that out, you -"
"I was rude to Russia?" Lithuania said, quivering. "How? Why?"
"He was in your face," Poland said. "You know, looming at you and being funny. You were spoiling for a fight the night before as well."
"I was?" Lithuania said, horrified. "Why?"
"Because of the partitions," Poland said, off-hand. "You took that news totally badly."
"I did?" Lithuania said.
"Well, you thought it was the start of the Commonwealth and that you loved me," Poland said, even more studiously off-hand than before.
"I -" Lithuania put a hand over his eyes. "I thought it was the start of the Commonwealth," he said flatly. "I thought I was in the sixteenth century."
"Verily, thou sure didst," Poland said. "You were all, 'Hands off my paramour, sirrah! Base wretch!' It was cute."
Lithuania felt his headache attempt to come back. "Wait," he said, "hands off what?"
"Me, dude," Poland said. "You were real clingy and possessive, but don't worry, I know you're not interested in that sort of thing usually."
Lithuania pursed his lips at the careful nonchalance and looked at him more closely. "Poland, you know you're my best friend. You know how fond I am of you. Just how fond of you have I been acting?"
"Whoa, I'd better come clean," Poland muttered. "I totally did not take advantage of you. No way. I was, like, the shrinking maiden in this whole deal. Till I knew you were serious." He took a deep breath and said, "You were serious and I know maybe I should have said 'No' more often but I did a few times and I ran off a bit and you got real sad and I was, like, already worried about you and I thought, Dude, you should totally not let him get any more upset and you probably think that's just a justification which all right it so is 'cos I miss that so much, but on the other hand I was worried and you looked like you'd been hit in the head with a hammer you were so freaked out by everything and every time something beeped or you saw, like, running water or underpants you got a worse case of culture shock, so I -"
" - I woke up in your room," Lithuania said holding up a hand.
"Yep."
"Did we -"
"Yep."
"Poland," Lithuania said wearily. "Oh, Poland."
"I'm sorry," Poland said, and sat down. "It was just - when I've asked you've always said you're not saying 'No', you're just saying, 'Not right now.' For the last couple of days you were saying 'Yes'. You really did want to, it was just like -" he sighed. "It was like old times, and I miss that a lot. I'm very sorry, Liet."
"How . . . often?" Lithuania said, putting a hand over his eyes.
"Per day or, like, in total?" Poland sounded worried. "Liet? Hey, Liet? Are you pissed off? It's OK, don't worry, I don't expect -"
"Shh," Lithuania said and, rather to his astonishment, Poland shushed. He still looked worried and unhappy, both of which were unusual expressions for him and neither of which suited him at all. He wondered if he should stalk off in offence or settle for shaking sense into Poland's selfish mind and felt exasperated with himself that he found himself worrying more about Poland being upset by the whole thing. He knew Poland missed sleeping with him - he missed it himself, but it wasn't as if either of them had had much privacy or free time over the last fifty odd years, and he had only felt perfectly healthy and energetic for a few years before the recession struck. He tried to remember; he couldn't tell when the memory was from, all he could bring to mind was Poland's breathy laughter, warm against his ear. When he thought back before they were separated he could put images to that laughter, Poland's face joyful and happy, Poland's arms tight around him. He found he was not unhappy to have been able to make Poland smile like that again. In any case, forgiveness was a virtue, he thought, and after seven hundred years he was good at forgiving Poland. It was far too long a friendship, and he loved Poland too much not to forgive. "I'm not annoyed," he said softly. "Just surprised. You do know I never stopped -" He felt his cheeks flush. "Well, you know what I mean."
"You're such a man," Poland said. "You won't die if you say 'love', you know." He patted Lithuania's arm. "And Liet, I, like, never doubted it. Much."
"I'm not making any promises about, well, bed -"
"It's OK," Poland said and hugged him, then drew back, looking over his shoulder at something beyond the kitchen window, frowning.
"You have to tell me everything that happened," Lithuania said. "And we have to find out why - tell me I didn't do anything to start a war, at least -"
"All in good time," Poland said. "Maybe you can tell me what you said to Latvia."
"Latvia?" Lithuania said.
"Yeah, he's coming up the path dragging a huge suitcase behind him," Poland said dryly. "Seems like someone invited a long-term guest?" Lithuania looked out the window, feeling vaguely guilty. The case looked bigger than Latvia himself. He looked sidelong at Poland and was glad to see he was giggling. "Come on, Liet," he said. "Time to repel boarders."
"Verily, consider my loins girded," Lithuania said.
Poland gave a bark of laughter and led the way out to deal with the situation.
* * * * * * * * * *
Notes:
In 1575, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth had been going for six years, replacing Poland and Lithuania's previous union as two states under one king (the Union of Kreva/Krewo), and covering a lot of territory, including Lithuania's previous territorial gains in Belarus, Russia and Ukraine, though much of the territory became part of Polish territory rather than Lithuanian (hogging the blankets, indeed).
The earliest known Lithuanian language written texts date from the sixteenth century. Printed texts in Lithuanian are found after 1547.
Fashionable men's attire in 16th century Poland and Lithuania included the żupan, in bright colours and highly decorated, for members of the nobility, with a kontusz, an outer robe with long, loose sleeves or a delia, another type of outer coat.
Russia's really long sleeves Poland refers to.
After World War I, Poland and Lithuanian went to war over territory, after which they didn't speak for some years when Lithuania severed diplomatic relations (including severing diplomatic relations with the Holy See/the Vatican after it recognised Poland's claim on Vilnius).
In Hetalia, in the current era Lithuania stays with Poland, who helps him get his house back in order.
"Coffee?" Poland said chirpily, holding up the jug of steaming black liquid.
"No, thank you," Lithuania said, drinking the beer he had watered down to make more suitable for breakfast. He shuddered as Poland drank two enormous cups of the coffee one after the other, ladling in sugar to lessen the bitterness. They ate in companionable silence - food was still among the few things that could stop Poland talking, Lithuania noted - making their way through much of the contents of Poland's cupboards.
"Whew, I'm totally stuffed," Poland said. "How did we manage to eat that every day?"
"We usually have a bit more," Lithuania said. "We need to keep our energy up for fencing and other martial pursuits and riding and dancing in the evening -"
"You're making me feel guilty for, like, vegging out in front of the TV," Poland said, no guilt in his voice at all. "Let's get you properly dressed."
"Let's not go to this meeting," Lithuania said hopefully. "Do you still like horses? We could ride out and be by ourselves."
"I love horses," Poland said with a wide grin. "We can go riding after the meeting. C'mon, Liet. Up those stairs and into a suit."
Lithuania obediently trailed up the stairs, thinking how much he hated the clothes deemed appropriate for men, how naked he felt wandering round without a weapon and how disconcerting it was that when they went back downstairs the food and dirty plates from breakfast would still be on the table and they would have to clean them up themselves. He let Poland dress him as if he were dressing a doll and sat glumly before the unnaturally good mirror to allow Poland to brush and tie back his hair.
"There now," Poland said, his hands warm on Lithuania's shoulders. "You look lovely." He dropped a light kiss on the top of Lithuania's head.
"I don't," Lithuania said. "I look ridiculous. I look like a fool. No one wears proper clothes any more, Polska."
"I suppose you'd like me to be, like, dripping with velvet and lace?" Poland smiled, striking a pose.
"Yes."
"And Hungary to wear something down to the floor, and Russia to have been wearing one of those things with the really long sleeves?"
"He's tall enough to carry it off well enough," Lithuania muttered. He sighed as Poland laughed. "I'm being foolish, I know."
"Remember," Poland said, "this is your real time, your memory is just on the futz. You know I'm telling the truth." He lightly traced the path of their shared scar down Lithuania's side. "Bad things happened, Liet, but we're still here and we're still friends. You just have to remember, and you totally will." He patted Lithuania's shoulders encouragingly. "Let's go. There's nowhere to put horses, or I'd say we could ride, but as it is -"
"I'm not getting back in that "car" thing," Lithuania said firmly.
"We'll be there in the blink of an eye," Poland said. "I can show you round modern Warsaw another time." He tugged Lithuania up and pulled him by the hand back downstairs, where he quickly put the food away and piled the plates and cups up to be washed later. "Your notes," he said, handing the papers to Lithuania, "and my notes, and we're off!" He tucked an envelope of papers under his arm, took Lithuania's hand again and led him to the front door, opening it to show a busy street, people and awful cars everywhere. "Be brave," he grinned. "Remember, you're the Republic of Lithuania."
"I'm the Grand Duchy of Lithuania," Lithuania corrected him, and stepped through the door. They ran across the street and into the building Poland indicated, a massively tall edifice made, it seemed to Lithuania, almost entirely of glass. It was a relief to see solid walls inside. Poland led him to a large room, where several nations were already gathered, some looking weak and hungover. Hungary turned from speaking with Ukraine, and smiled at them over a cup of what Lithuania could smell was strong coffee, and he blushed scarlet, looking away quickly.
"What in God's name is Hungary wearing?" he whispered. "I - I can see her knees, Polska!"
"That's a totally flattering cut," Poland said, eying up Hungary's scandalously abbreviated clothing. "Hey, Hungary, Liet likes your skirt."
"Polska!" Lithuania hissed.
"Good morning," Hungary said, looking amused. "Are you all right, Lithuania?"
"Thank you," he said, fixing his eyes firmly on hers and not allowing his gaze to move in any direction. "I fare well." Ukraine's clothing was as bad, too tight and making the shape of her body indecently clear. "Excuse me." He walked off a little, pretending to feign an interest in the table on which more jugs of coffee and some little cakes had been laid out to tempt those who felt it a long time since breakfast.
"Is he upset I couldn't come along last night?" he heard Ukraine say in worried tones behind him. "My boss doesn't like me socialising with my brother -"
It sounded like she was close to tears. Lithuania got a very clear image of how she would quiver in her scandalous modern clothes when she cried and kept his eyes on the table.
"Unggh," Bulgaria said beside him, swallowing an entire cup of coffee down and looking a little ill.
"Good morning," Lithuania said, decoding it as a greeting.
"Unnngh," Bulgaria said in a more warning tone, nodding at something behind him before grabbing a plate of cakes and another cup of coffee and staggering off.
"Good morning, Lithuania!" Russia's happy voice said. "Do you have a hangover? So many people do - it's so funny!"
Lithuania half-turned to glare at him. It would not be politic, he reminded himself, to fight with him at Poland's carefully arranged meeting. "Have some of this coffee," he said.
"Pour me some," Russia said, a cheery smile on his pink-cheeked face. "I miss the days you would bring me my breakfast."
"Pour it yourself, I'm not your damned servant," Lithuania snapped, outraged.
"Not at the moment," Russia giggled.
Poland materialised by Lithuania's side before he could raise his clenched fist. "Hi!" he chirped, holding tight to Lithuania's wrist. "Have a pastry, Russia, the ones on the end are filled with strawberry and vodka preserves."
"Maybe Lithuania will get one for me," Russia said happily.
"Maybe you can fuck yourself," Lithuania said in such a sweet tone of voice that it took a few glorious seconds before it registered on Russia's face. He grinned at the look of sheer astonishment in Russia's eyes and the way he didn't seem able to close his mouth. "Good morning!" he added, and swept off, leaving Poland to try to convince Russia he was still drunk and hadn't heard properly. He sat in the place at the table marked with his name and waited for the meeting to begin. Finally everyone was seated and people began to report about the state of trade in their houses. He smiled at Poland and pressed his knee against his until he got a forgiving grin in return. He listened as best he could to other people, trying to make sense of what they talked about. When it was his turn he looked beseechingly at Poland who rose and said,
"Liet's got a cold and a sore throat, so I'll, like, read it for him." He took the papers from Lithuania and made sense of the notes and pictures in a way Lithuania knew he never could. After everyone else had spoken America rose and talked about what he wanted to sell and what he'd buy from everyone's houses, and what help he could give if people needed it. When it was all finally over everyone trooped into another room where food was laid out on a long table. Lithuania watched people fill plates and stand in little groups, chatting. He followed suit and watched everyone else as he ate bread and meat.
"Hey, Lithuania," America said cheerfully. "You're not eating much, here -" He handed his own plate to Lithuania and went back to get more for himself, returning quickly. "So, what gives?" he said, round a mouthful of sausage. "Russia looks like someone smacked him in the face every time he looks at you, Austria's been avoiding you and looks scared if he meets your eyes and you've been really, um -" he went red, " - obvious about, er, you and Poland."
Lithuania smiled, a little shamefacedly. It was different talking about such things when people weren't drinking, and America seemed to be more easily embarrassed than he'd at first realised. "Russia and Austria," he said, "offered insult to both me and Poland. I let them know my opinion." There was no point in saying the insult was two hundred years in the past. People took satisfaction and vengeance when they could, after all.
"Good for you," America said. "You should come to visit my house. You and Poland," he said quickly.
"Thank you," Lithuania said. "You must visit our - my house too." He tried to remember anything he knew about America from his own time. England, he thought. He was sure he'd heard that England had visited the territory that America now lived in. "Do you stay in England's house when you come to Europe?"
"No," America said, looking surprised. "Not unless I've come on business to do with him."
Lithuania made a non-committal sound, not wanting to display his ignorance. "Do come to stay," he said, both out of obligation to return promised hospitality and because he found he liked this apparent friend of his. He wondered if he should ask England's permission, then decided such a small island nation should be glad the Commonwealth showed amicable interest in his colony. "You should visit both of us -" He looked round and gestured to Poland to come over. "Polska, you would think it very good for America to come for a friendly visit, wouldn't you?"
"For sure," Poland said, flashing a quick grin and turning his attention back to the little thing he called a phone. "Don't mind me," he said, pressing its tiny buttons, "I'm just checking on clothes shops." He pursed his lips and nodded decisively, closing it with a snap. "Come and stay," he said to America. "I'll give you some real food."
"Hamburgers are fine," America said in alarm. "You people over here eat bits of animals no one was ever meant to eat."
"Ah, there's Belarus," Lithuania said. "If you will excuse me a moment -"
He bowed slightly and went towards her, hearing America behind him say in a worried tone, "Say, do you think we'll have to put him back together? She looks in a mean mood."
Belarus did indeed look as if she were annoyed with the world, Lithuania thought, her fine features drawn down in a scowl as she looked around. He stood a respectful distance from her and bowed.
"Belarus -"
"What do you want?" she snapped. "I'm looking for my brother."
"I must apologise for being discourteous to you last night," he said. "Fortune changes for all of us, and it was not the act of a gentleman to remind you of a time when you were not independent." It would be equally discourteous, he told himself, to show how scandalised he was by her clothing. While her skirts were not as short as the garment Hungary was wearing, her calves and ankles were clearly on show. At least she was wearing thick stockings, but if she had dared to wear such an outfit in his house he would have had to chastise her for indecency. She glared at him as if she would attack, and he thought of her as he remembered her, with a vile temper and all-too-ready to reach for the kitchen knives when irritated.
"You should apologise to Russia," she said. "He didn't mean to do it."
"Do what?" Lithuania said.
"Make me feed so many people," she said venomously. "He didn't mean to take all my food. Everyone has to do what their bosses say. It wasn't his fault."
He saw he had offended her in some way he didn't understand, yet that could not be left unaddressed. "I am sorry to have caused such offence, Belarus," he said. "Accept my apologies, I pray you. I won't trouble you further." There was hurt in her eyes under the anger, he saw. He'd ask Poland about it, he decided, and bowed again before leaving her. When he rejoined America, Poland was nowhere to be seen.
"I've been told you're under the weather and I should take care of you," America said, sounding rather more gleeful than Lithuania liked. "Poland said to tell you he had to pick up some clothes. Come on, I'll get you some lunch that'll really build you up." He grabbed Lithuania's elbow and pulled him from the room and down to the level of the street. Lithuania saw they would have to cross the street, so he took a deep breath and walked out amongst the cars with America, trying not to show how terrifying it was. He had barely breathed a sigh of relief when they safely reached the far side before America dragged him after him down the street and into a brightly lit hostelry of some kind.
"Sit!" America said. "How many Big Macs do you want? And which shake?"
" - you decide," Lithuania said. He sat and looked around at the other people eating. They seemed to be eating meat between pieces of bread; it didn't seem that different from what Poland had supplied for the meeting, but if America was happy he supposed it was all right. America returned quickly, carrying a tray with food on it. Lithuania didn't voice his opinion of the obvious sloth of the serving girls and boys.
"I got eight, is that all right?" America said. "You eat what you want, I can always get more." He unwrapped one of the packages, devouring the meat and bread inside with clear enjoyment.
Lithuania took a cautious bite of another of the pieces of food. The bread was soft and oddly sweet, and the meat and cheese dressed with pickled vegetables and a mild sauce were not very flavourful, but it wasn't bad. The strips of fried vegetable were tasty, especially when he followed America's example and salted them well. He paused after his first mouthful of the thick, milky drink. "What is this?" he said.
"You've never had a chocolate shake before?" America said in horror. "You're not like France, are you? You're not going to pretend you're dying of food poisoning? Because that was really rude -"
"It's delicious," Lithuania said.
America's smile was wide and bright. "I'll get you another one!" he said, and shot back to the counter. He soon returned in triumph, bearing several more of the drinks. "Don't let them melt too much, drink up!"
Lithuania smiled and did his best, though he found it difficult to match America's appetite. It was impressive how much food he could eat in such a short time, Lithuania thought. If their pace had been more leisurely he was sure he could have eaten more, but as it was it was hard to eat so quickly.
"You know, it's not my business, but I figure, seeing as we're friends -" America started, keeping his hands off the last of the meat and bread packages with clear difficulty, "when you were in my house you said Poland was awful bossy, and hogged all the blankets and that sort of thing."
Lithuania snorted a quiet laugh. "Yes," he said, "that's what Poland's like." America must be a good friend, he thought, if he talked like that about Poland to him.
"Last night -" America said, and went red. "He's not bossing you round into being his boyfriend, is he? Or is it because of the recession? Because you don't have to put up with that, and if you want to come to my house till things settle down -"
Lithuania deciphered what he'd said and shook his head as America went redder. "He's not that bossy," he said with a laugh. Then, as it seemed he and America were good friends indeed, "Don't worry - I know perhaps in recent years things have been different between Poland and me, but we were together for a very long time. Even when he really annoyed me I didn't want that to change." He patted America's arm. "It is good of you to be concerned, but Poland isn't always so bossy. There are times he does exactly what he's told to - at least when he knows he'll have as much pleasure of it as will I."
America mumbled something in a flustered way, then cleared his throat. "I'm going to get another couple of burgers - do you want one? No? I'll get dessert too - you can manage a few apple pies and McFlurrys, right?"
He was already at the counter when Lithuania said, "Thank you, but -" He shook his head in amusement, and made himself eat the small pies that America came back with. They were almost finished when something about America's person played a jaunty little tune and he fished out a small device that seemed similar to Poland's "phone". He fished it out and squinted at the glass panel on the front before raising it to his ear. "Hey, Poland!" he said into it. "No, I haven't stolen him, he's right here enjoying some good American food. We'll be back soon. Yeah, see you then." He slurped up the last of his drinks and ate the last few mouthfuls of his food. "Poland wants you back," he said with a grin. "I guess he's scared you might be having such a good time you'll want to come back to my house for good. Are you feeling any better now?"
"I'm all right, thank you," Lithuania said, which wasn't really true, but he didn't want to burden anyone else with his problem.
"Hey," America said as they left, "you know I'll do my best to help you out if you need it, right?" He blushed a little, looking at him from under his eyelashes, and Lithuania could see how young he was.
"Thank you," he said, touched.
When they returned to the building the meeting had been in, Poland was sitting on the desk in the hall on the ground level, swinging his feet as the guardsmen tried to do their work despite his chattering to them. He jumped down and skipped over, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Did you have fun?"
"We sure did," America said. "Right, Lithuania?"
"Yes," Lithuania said as Poland linked arms with him and cuddled close.
"I've got to go," America said. "Russia wants a word in private. Any idea where he is?"
"Belarus was closing in - he said he needed a drink," Poland said. "The nearest bar's just down to the right, about fifty metres."
"Thanks," America said and made an odd gesture Lithuania didn't know how to interpret, holding his fingers to his ear. "Call me if you want to chat, Lithuania."
"Yes," Lithuania said, as some sort of response seemed to be called for, and watched him leave. "Did you get your errands done?" he asked.
"Yup. How many burgers did he make you eat?"
"Nearly four," Lithuania said, "and some fried vegetables in the French style, with fruit pies and sweet cold drinks and something called "ice cream". Have you ever had that? It was very good."
Poland laughed at him. "No ice cream in 1575, dude. See? The modern world totally has advantages." He swung Lithuania round cheerfully. "Let's go home, I've got something to show you."
They went back to Poland's house by way of several shops, Poland buying little gifts for him until Lithuania had to laughingly tell him to stop. He felt laden down with pens that mysteriously contained their ink within them, new ribbons for his hair, bright pictures of Warsaw on stiff paper and bag after bag of sweets. Poland just grinned and pulled him along, pointing out tall buildings and busy people. It was very like, Lithuania thought suddenly, the days before they had first joined together, when Poland had been eager to show off his fine cities and fashionably dressed citizens.
"Your city is still beautiful," he said, and Poland looked pleased.
"I totally had my depressed grey concrete phase, like everyone," he said, "but it's looking nice again, huh?" He grinned at Lithuania's incomprehension, and pointed at a stolid grey building. "That's concrete. Kind of bleh, huh? We should, like, go to Krakow too."
"And on to Vilnius," Lithuania said. His cheerful mood died. "I should have gone straight to Vilnius. Who knows what's happening there?"
"Everything's fine," Poland said soothingly.
"Then why does my heart race so?" Lithuania said, and held Poland's hand over his heart. "Feel -"
"It's not really any faster than usual," Poland said. "The pace of modern life is hectic, Liet. Quit worrying, I totally checked things out when I was getting your notes." He winked. "You can trust me, but like I said, you've really got to change your password! Let's go home first, then we'll go wherever you want, OK?" He pulled Lithuania down a side-street, unlocked an unassuming door at the side of a shop, and revealed his own hallway beyond.
It was a relief to be out of the crowds, Lithuania thought. Everyone seemed to walk so fast, to be in such a rush to get where they were going. Poland's house was blessedly quiet, apart from Poland humming to himself and then exclaiming in glee over something in the hall cabinet. When Lithuania tried to see what it was, he was unceremoniously pushed into another room.
"No peeking!" Poland said in excitement. "Here, you watch TV for a while -" He fiddled with a device covered with buttons, and a glass box suddenly came to bright, noisy life. Lithuania jumped in startlement and glowered as Poland laughed at him. "Dude, no need to look so scared, it's just daytime kids' programming. Press here -" he indicated buttons on the device, "- to change channels. I won't be long." With that, he was gone, leaving Lithuania staring warily at tiny people behind the glass.
"Have you ever wondered," a miniature, bizarrely-dressed woman asked, "where cheese comes from?"
"No," Lithuania said. "I've always known where -" She didn't seem to require an answer, however, as she vanished suddenly to be replaced by cows in a sunlit field. Lithuania gingerly pressed a button on the device Poland had left with him, and the cows vanished as well, earnest people appearing in their place to talk about the intimate details of their lives. "Stop," Lithuania said in horror, and pressed buttons at random. "I don't like this," he muttered to himself, pressing each button in turn until finally the box went dark and dead once more. He wandered round the room, wondering if he should go after Poland, and knowing that he'd be scolded for spoiling whatever surprise was in store. "I'm not sure I can take any more surprises, Polska," he sighed, and sat quietly, closing his eyes. After a little he slipped to his knees, thinking he could at least pray for things to make sense. It was a comfort to lose himself in the familiar recitation of his prayers, and when he opened his eyes again he heard Poland coming down the stairs.
"Liet?" Poland called from outside the door. "I'm ready - if you laugh at me I'll be bummed, OK?"
"Why would I laugh?" Lithuania said. The door opened, and Poland came in, his face a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment. Lithuania covered his mouth with his hands, not wanting to laugh at all. Poland raised an eyebrow as he stood there in żupan and kontusz, its sleeves thrown back, and looked more defiant than embarrassed.
"You said you wanted me to wear something proper -"
It wasn't quite right, Lithuania thought. Poland would never have worn such a plain green coloured kontusz that fought with the colour of his eyes, and the żupan should have been covered with embroidery, but the cut was neat enough, the linen shirt collar just visible was pristine and white, his hose were close-fitting and unwrinkled, and the hand that clasped the top of a silver-pommeled walking stick was brightly adorned with a ring on each finger. His hair hung in careful ringlets and Lithuania felt his eyes fill with tears at the sight of his own Polska standing before him. "Oh, Polska," he said.
"Hey, don't start crying," Poland said. "I thought you'd be pleased -" Lithuania hugged him tight. "I guess you are. We can go riding tomorrow morning, how does that sound? I bet I can find someone with a hawk if you want to go hawking."
"You look - yourself," Lithuania said, holding him at arms length and looking him up and down.
"I had to go to, like, four different costume shops," Poland grinned. "And then I bought some cheap bling -" he waggled his fingers at Lithuania so he could see the jewels were paste of some kind, set in base metals. "Most of mine got stolen," Poland said ruminatively. "Or I had to pawn them. This one I kept, though." He held his hand up and Lithuania looked at the thin gold ring set with a small, rounded garnet. It had never been worth much, but it had been one of the first presents he had given Poland, back when he'd been recovering from civil wars and unable to match the gifts that had been given to him. "I'm never pawning this one," Poland said, and, "Oh, Liet, it's all right, don't be sad -"
Lithuania got himself under control and kissed Poland soundly. "You look very fine," he said. "Very fine."
"I totally used to wear shinier stuff than this, and so did you. People act like the past was all muted and sepia, with these boring colours," Poland said. "Still, it's what they had in my size. It's what they had in your size too, want to go and change?"
"You got me proper clothes?" Lithuania said in delight. "Do you think they'll fit?"
"Dude," Poland said and smiled in a way that made Lithuania blush, "I know your size very well. Let's go, c'mon!" He bustled Lithuania up the stairs and opened the door to his chamber with an air of revealing great mysteries. Laid out on the bed were a shirt, a russet velvet żupan and matching hose, and a plain red kontusz. Lithuania eagerly let himself be helped out of the horrible modern clothes and into the proper ones, lifting his hair as Poland settled the kontusz neatly on his shoulders. The soft shoes were a little tight, but not uncomfortable. When he looked at his reflection he felt utter relief to see himself as he should have been - or at least, as he might have dressed if he were seeing absolutely no one at all, and was wearing his oldest, plainest clothing. Poland brushed his hair unmercifully and tied it back again neatly, grinning in delight at how his surprise had been appreciated.
"Let's go out," he said. "Let's go to Krakow."
"Dressed so plainly?" Lithuania said, and laughed, feeling himself once more. "Poland, people might jeer at you."
"Pfft, it's my house and I'll wear what I want in it. We can go to Mass in the cathedral this evening if you like?"
"Yes," Lithuania said. "I'd like that." He let himself be whirled round and pulled back down the stairs.
"We'll, like, go to the old town and you'll feel right at home, and then we'll go to Mass and then have some dinner and then we'll come back!" Poland said, pulling another cloak from the hall closet and throwing it about Lithuania's shoulders. "It'll be fun!" He opened his door to show buildings Lithuania had seen only days before, shining and new, now looking older, yet still familiar. "Oh, Liet, just one thing, don't start acting all shocked in church, but it won't be in Latin, OK?"
"It won't?" Lithuania said in surprise. He looked at Poland suspiciously. "We haven't become Protestants, have we?"
Poland laughed, and pulled him out into Krakow.
* * *
Lithuania covered his eyes as the bright morning sunlight streamed in. His head protested in pain with every breath, his neck ached from trying to hold himself perfectly still as he slept. He tried to move the pillows to make himself more comfortable and was overcome by nausea. He staggered from the bed and out the door, and turned the wrong way, staring blankly at the wall instead of the bathroom door. His legs recognised Poland's house before his mind did, and he got into the bathroom to fall to his knees by the toilet just in time to throw up. He felt a hand touch his shoulder, and then his hair was being pulled out of his face, Poland making meaningless sounds of comfort. Even through his misery Lithuania could tell he was trying to hide his disgust.
"Can I get you some water?" Poland said and made a soft ewww noise as the mere thought made Lithuania heave again. "You're going back to bed, no riding this morning," Poland said, and left him alone. Lithuania gasped for air, then felt a cold shiver deep inside himself, and managed to get up to sit on the toilet in time. He was still there when Poland came back. "Eww," Poland said, not trying to hide his grimace. "Let's get you cleaned up, Liet."
Lithuania let himself be hauled up and endured Poland tucking his hair into one of his silly bath-caps before putting him in the shower and turning the water as hot as he could stand. It felt good after the first shock and he obediently washed and then let himself be pulled back out and wrapped in a towel and vigorously dried.
"Brush your teeth," Poland commanded, and when he'd done so, "Back to bed, come on!" Lithuania wandered into the doorway of his room, confusedly registering that the bed looked unslept in, and then let himself be led into Poland's room to see the bed turned down and waiting. "In you get, I've put nice clean sheets on it for you," Poland said, and tucked him in, making sure the pillows were at the right height. He swished the curtains closed and Lithuania felt better in the dim room. "I'll go and deal with the laundry," Poland said, pulling on a dressing gown, "and I'll bring you something in a little while to settle your tummy." He stroked Lithuania's hair, which Lithuania thought was nicer than being bossed round, and patted at the pillows one last time. He gathered up the pile of sheets that had been deposited on the floor and stood there, hugging them to him as if he would rather hug Lithuania. "Try to sleep," he said, sounding worried.
When Lithuania woke again Poland was sitting on the edge of the bed, holding a mug. "Hey," he said quietly. "Try some of this -" Lithuania struggled into a more upright position and took the mug, sipping at the bland broth it contained. It did help, he thought, and he made himself finish before sinking back against the pillows.
"What the hell were we drinking last night?" he said.
"Not much," Poland said. "I mean, we had beer, wine and vodka, sure, but it's not like we went on a binge with Russia or anything. We ate the same things - maybe your fish was off. How do you feel?"
"Like someone kicked me in the head," Lithuania said. "Can I have some paracetamol?"
"Yeah, just a mo -" Poland said, jumping up. He paused, looking down quizzically, then shook his head and ran off, returning moments later with a glass from the bathroom and a packet of painkillers. Lithuania swallowed a couple down and thought that he might move in an hour or so if they started to work.
"Thanks," he said. "Poland, could you go online and check my economy hasn't crashed? I feel awful."
" - Sure," Poland said. "Hey, Liet? Do you know what day it is?"
"Monday," Lithuania said, closing his eyes.
"Actually, it's Wednesday; what year is it?"
"Huh?" Lithuania said, cracking an eye open. "It's 2009, what year did you think it was?"
"Ah," Poland said, sounding - a little regretful, Lithuania thought. "I'll go and check on your economy. Go back to sleep." He leant over and plumped the pillows again, and left the room quietly.
Lithuania got up at last, still feeling weak, driven from bed by a growing hunger. At least he didn't feel sick any more, he thought as his stomach rumbled. He found Poland downstairs, folding wet sheets into the laundry basket, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt; clearly he hadn't been out of the house, Lithuania thought. "I'll make some warm milk," he said.
"You'll sit," Poland said, "I'll make you some breakfast. How's the head?"
"Sore," Lithuania said. "Not as bad as it was." He watched Poland heat milk for him, and drop slices of bread in the toaster.
"Unless you'd like some beer," Poland said with a little smile as he put the toast and milk in front of him.
Lithuania looked at him in bewilderment. "Why would I want beer at breakfast?" He sipped the milk and spread butter and jam on a slice of toast, nibbling it carefully. His stomach didn't rebel, so he happily finished it. "Did you check my economy?" he said.
"Yeah - nothing unusual. You're back to normal." Poland looked at him a little wistfully, then stole one of the slices of toast, crunching it up before it could be reclaimed.
"Mm," Lithuania agreed, "I'm much better, I don't feel sick at all. I should get my notes for the meeting, we can go over both of ours today. Could I have some more toast, please?"
"The meeting was yesterday," Poland said, not looking at him as he went back to the toaster. "It went OK, you don't have to worry." He turned to Lithuania, taking a breath. "You've totally not been yourself that last couple of days, but I said you'd feel better soon, and you do, which is, like, great! I was kind of worried, and I wanted you to be yourself again, so you know, it's really good you feel so much better." He tucked his hair behind his ears, muttering, "Would have been nice to get to go riding with you, though."
"Yesterday?" Lithuania said. "Why can't I remember? What happened? Poland, tell me you didn't wear a skirt!"
"Sheesh," Poland said. "You totally worry too much about my clothes and not enough about your own. You asked me to speak for you so I did and for your information I was wearing a suit. With trousers. For the last two days you thought it was 1575 - it was kind of cool, actually. You didn't take shit from anyone."
"I what?"
"For real, dude. You slapped Russia down, you did something to Austria, but I guess Hungary will sort that out, you -"
"I was rude to Russia?" Lithuania said, quivering. "How? Why?"
"He was in your face," Poland said. "You know, looming at you and being funny. You were spoiling for a fight the night before as well."
"I was?" Lithuania said, horrified. "Why?"
"Because of the partitions," Poland said, off-hand. "You took that news totally badly."
"I did?" Lithuania said.
"Well, you thought it was the start of the Commonwealth and that you loved me," Poland said, even more studiously off-hand than before.
"I -" Lithuania put a hand over his eyes. "I thought it was the start of the Commonwealth," he said flatly. "I thought I was in the sixteenth century."
"Verily, thou sure didst," Poland said. "You were all, 'Hands off my paramour, sirrah! Base wretch!' It was cute."
Lithuania felt his headache attempt to come back. "Wait," he said, "hands off what?"
"Me, dude," Poland said. "You were real clingy and possessive, but don't worry, I know you're not interested in that sort of thing usually."
Lithuania pursed his lips at the careful nonchalance and looked at him more closely. "Poland, you know you're my best friend. You know how fond I am of you. Just how fond of you have I been acting?"
"Whoa, I'd better come clean," Poland muttered. "I totally did not take advantage of you. No way. I was, like, the shrinking maiden in this whole deal. Till I knew you were serious." He took a deep breath and said, "You were serious and I know maybe I should have said 'No' more often but I did a few times and I ran off a bit and you got real sad and I was, like, already worried about you and I thought, Dude, you should totally not let him get any more upset and you probably think that's just a justification which all right it so is 'cos I miss that so much, but on the other hand I was worried and you looked like you'd been hit in the head with a hammer you were so freaked out by everything and every time something beeped or you saw, like, running water or underpants you got a worse case of culture shock, so I -"
" - I woke up in your room," Lithuania said holding up a hand.
"Yep."
"Did we -"
"Yep."
"Poland," Lithuania said wearily. "Oh, Poland."
"I'm sorry," Poland said, and sat down. "It was just - when I've asked you've always said you're not saying 'No', you're just saying, 'Not right now.' For the last couple of days you were saying 'Yes'. You really did want to, it was just like -" he sighed. "It was like old times, and I miss that a lot. I'm very sorry, Liet."
"How . . . often?" Lithuania said, putting a hand over his eyes.
"Per day or, like, in total?" Poland sounded worried. "Liet? Hey, Liet? Are you pissed off? It's OK, don't worry, I don't expect -"
"Shh," Lithuania said and, rather to his astonishment, Poland shushed. He still looked worried and unhappy, both of which were unusual expressions for him and neither of which suited him at all. He wondered if he should stalk off in offence or settle for shaking sense into Poland's selfish mind and felt exasperated with himself that he found himself worrying more about Poland being upset by the whole thing. He knew Poland missed sleeping with him - he missed it himself, but it wasn't as if either of them had had much privacy or free time over the last fifty odd years, and he had only felt perfectly healthy and energetic for a few years before the recession struck. He tried to remember; he couldn't tell when the memory was from, all he could bring to mind was Poland's breathy laughter, warm against his ear. When he thought back before they were separated he could put images to that laughter, Poland's face joyful and happy, Poland's arms tight around him. He found he was not unhappy to have been able to make Poland smile like that again. In any case, forgiveness was a virtue, he thought, and after seven hundred years he was good at forgiving Poland. It was far too long a friendship, and he loved Poland too much not to forgive. "I'm not annoyed," he said softly. "Just surprised. You do know I never stopped -" He felt his cheeks flush. "Well, you know what I mean."
"You're such a man," Poland said. "You won't die if you say 'love', you know." He patted Lithuania's arm. "And Liet, I, like, never doubted it. Much."
"I'm not making any promises about, well, bed -"
"It's OK," Poland said and hugged him, then drew back, looking over his shoulder at something beyond the kitchen window, frowning.
"You have to tell me everything that happened," Lithuania said. "And we have to find out why - tell me I didn't do anything to start a war, at least -"
"All in good time," Poland said. "Maybe you can tell me what you said to Latvia."
"Latvia?" Lithuania said.
"Yeah, he's coming up the path dragging a huge suitcase behind him," Poland said dryly. "Seems like someone invited a long-term guest?" Lithuania looked out the window, feeling vaguely guilty. The case looked bigger than Latvia himself. He looked sidelong at Poland and was glad to see he was giggling. "Come on, Liet," he said. "Time to repel boarders."
"Verily, consider my loins girded," Lithuania said.
Poland gave a bark of laughter and led the way out to deal with the situation.
* * * * * * * * * *
Notes:
In 1575, the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth had been going for six years, replacing Poland and Lithuania's previous union as two states under one king (the Union of Kreva/Krewo), and covering a lot of territory, including Lithuania's previous territorial gains in Belarus, Russia and Ukraine, though much of the territory became part of Polish territory rather than Lithuanian (hogging the blankets, indeed).
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The earliest known Lithuanian language written texts date from the sixteenth century. Printed texts in Lithuanian are found after 1547.
Fashionable men's attire in 16th century Poland and Lithuania included the żupan, in bright colours and highly decorated, for members of the nobility, with a kontusz, an outer robe with long, loose sleeves or a delia, another type of outer coat.
Russia's really long sleeves Poland refers to.
After World War I, Poland and Lithuanian went to war over territory, after which they didn't speak for some years when Lithuania severed diplomatic relations (including severing diplomatic relations with the Holy See/the Vatican after it recognised Poland's claim on Vilnius).
In Hetalia, in the current era Lithuania stays with Poland, who helps him get his house back in order.