Le Title: Russia's Mistletoe
Other Specs:One-shot, various pairings, chorva. Yes. Chorva.
A/N: Author's Note at the end.
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"How depressing... He would not be able to come..."
Fellow passengers passed his towering frame after going through security check, walking over to board the plane. He lightly tapped and ran a finger across the screen of his phone; the device lit up and he saw his three stripes, white, blue and red, behind his name in Cyrillic letters. There weren't any messages, nor were there any calls. His eyes had a blank look in them for a second. Then, he scrolled through his contacts, debating with himself whether or not to call. With a frustrated sigh, he flipped back the cover on his phone, shoved it in his pocket and trotted over to board the plane.
"I hope something comes up..."
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...
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"America, why don't you gather everyone and start off with the introductions? Big brother will catch up in a few moments," a handsomely dressed, bearded Frenchman told another blond.
"Huh? Why do I have to do it?" He whined, pouting. "Why can't England do it?"
"England is busy greeting the guests."
"Well, what about Russia?"
"Russia?" He paused for a bit, "do you honestly think Russia could make any decent introductions?" France pointed out. "And besides, I think something's wrong with him. He had that vacant look on his face ever since he arrived," he said, waving a hand in dismissal. "So it is better that you handle it."
"Hmm... What about you?"
"I still have to check on the kitchen and make sure the food would satisfy our guests," he said with a wink. Seeing a look on the American's face, he grinned and continued to convince him, "come on, now. You know you can captivate the audience with your remarkable... Awesomeness, as you say."
Still having that look on his face, he finally agreed, "fine. I'll do it."
"Now that's a good boy."
"Mmmf... You're just going to make aphrodisiacs, you pervert..." America groaned as he made his way to the elevated platform set to be the night's stage. "If only China were here, I could've just dumped it on him and I could just be chilling out with everybody else," he mumbled to himself. With a sigh, he stepped onto the platform, snatched away the mic and began with the introductions.
The place was spacious enough to accommodate the nations that gathered for the Christmas party that the Allies hosted. The walls have been decorated with festive ornaments; green, red sparkling streamers, roses, as suggested by France, and silver and gold garlands. There was a large Christmas tree at one of the corners of the room, near the entrance. It was grandly adorned with Christmas balls of various size and color from all over Europe; there were garlands, ordinary garlands, spearmint and peppermint garlands, licorice and taffy garlands, popcorn garlands and Wonka candy garlands that America had made and insisted to put on the tree; candy canes hung on the branches, some near the top, others near the bottom; chocolates and chocolate candies from Belgium and Switzerland were scattered abundantly, which some nations had already swiped away when they felt that no one was looking; small toys also hung around the trees, key chains and trinkets that Japan, Hong Kong and South Korea had brought when the Asian nations arrived that afternoon; and the red leaves and yellow flowers of the Poinsettia that added to the beauty of the tree, as advised by Spain and the Philippines. At the top, there was a magnificent gold star with eight points, shining and glimmering in the light. Gifts of different shapes, sizes and wrappers settled below the tree. There were so many that they had to be piled up on top of one another so they would not block the entrance.
"They did a great job with the Christmas tree, haven't they, Sve?" Finland, who wore a Santa hat, smiled as he took a glimpse at the tree behind them. "They were pretty creative."
"Mm." Sweden merely answered, taking a sip from the glass of sparkling champagne in his hand. "S' pretty."
"...so let's all have fun here at the Christmas party, awesomely hosted by us, the Allies!" America finished off with his hands in a rock and roll sign up in the air. "DJ, play some music!"
The lights were dimmed and party music began to play from the stereos. Denmark was behind the music booth, playing hits from Lady Gaga and Katy Perry. Norway sat beside him, reading the evening paper and eating buttered sugar toast.
Asia Pacific, Europe, the Americas and Africa were having a good time. It was a happy sight, despite the fact that Prussia, South Korea and three other nations were inexplicably noisy. But all in all, it was peaceful. Now, if only world peace were that easy.
Russia was drifting away across the crowd, overhearing a vast assortment of conversations.
"So I suppose that there would be another neutrino experiment next year?" India mentioned as he poured himself some punch.
"Mmm. The scientists back home have been talking about it since September. Though, I'm still not sure which laboratory they'll be holding it in," Switzerland answered.
"Well, I would love to ask Italy about it, but..."
They both caught sight of Italy pestering Germany in the most imaginably awkward ways. They exchanged looks and laughed.
"Hey, England!" A child's voice called behind him.
He turned and saw Sealand with a bright look in his eyes. The child looked adorably enthusiastic, which amused him. "What is it, Sealand?"
"Well, I wanted to make a pact with you," he began.
"Oh, really?" He grinned, raising an unusually thick brow. "Tell me about it, then."
"Alright, alright, here it is..." He clapped his hands together. "You see, if you grant me this one Christmas present, I promise I'll never ask for any other present ever for the next ten years. That includes Christmas presents and birthday presents. So, how about it?" He asked excitedly.
"Well, we'll see about that. What do you want, exactly?"
He let out a thrilled squeak and said, "acknowledge me as a country please!" Before England could say another word, the child continued, "if a superpower country like you acknowledges me, then the others would, too! After that, I'm bound to get world recognition!"
The British gentleman smiled warmly and said, "unfortunately, I don't think I could give you that," he saw the grin on the lad's face slip and quickly caught, "but, I do have a different present for you. It's not recognition, but it is wrapped in blue wrapping paper and it's under the tree."
He sprang back to life, "really?"
"Well, you can see for yourself, if you like. But I suggest you open it tomorrow morning," the Briton explained.
"I will! Thanks, England!" Sealand squeaked. He gave the older blond a quick hug and told him to have a merry Christmas. England returned the embrace and the greeting. And the child ran off, disappearing into the crowd. He gazed warmly after him, as a parent would.
"What a sweet child. Reminds me of when we were raising children."
"This child wouldn't hold any revolutions, nor would he threaten to kill me," he answered jokingly.
"That... Well, it couldn't be helped. It was bound to happen, anyway." A moment of silence blew past, and the Frenchman sighed. "It's a pity China isn't here."
England looked at him, skeptical. "Why bring that up all of a sudden?"
France pointed a finger to the far side of the room, where Russia had been staring blankly at England's family portrait. "He's got that look ever since he came. And I understand perfectly how he feels especially-" England opened his mouth to say something "-when you're here in London and I'm in Paris."
The Briton's mouth hung half-open. The redness in his cheeks gradually burned deeper as amethyst eyes gazed lovingly into his emerald ones. Thought process seemed to have ceased; he did not know what he should say.
"You know," France continued as his eyes swept the room, "it's all fun and happy since a lot of nations are here, but..." The shorter blond pulled his lips to a straight line, his cheeks still fervently colored. "I'd very much prefer to spend Christmas alone with you."
"T-That's-"
"Then we could go at it all night 'till the morning comes," he added with a sly look on his face. He winced and let out a cry of pain when England's fist landed on his arm.
"Perverted wine bastard."
"It's nice that a lot of people are here," Taiwan commented as she took a bite of the chocolate candy she took from the Christmas tree. "Feels a lot like Christmas."
"Isn't it? But you know, Christmas originated in Kor-"
"Say that it originated in Korea and I'll drill my foot into your stomach and you won't be able to eat right for a week," Vietnam threatened the Korean.
"That. I shall shut up now."
"Good idea," Hong Kong said, and he made his way to where Iceland was, to give him his company.
"Too bad China was not able to come," Japan said, glancing around for Greece. "I am sure it would have been much, much livelier if he had."
"Of course..." Taiwan sighed. "I wonder what time it is back home?"
"Since it's eight o'clock here, it's already four in the morning there. I can imagine how cold it is," replied the Philippines.
"I wish some sort of miracle could happen... And he'd be able to come here."
"I hope so, too," Macau said.
"Hmm... A miracle?" Russia repeated. He did not plan on eavesdropping, but the moment he heard them mention China's name, he automatically had to listen to what they were talking about. "Miracles... I've stopped believing in them." Crestfallen, he noiselessly shuffled away, out into the snow-covered courtyard.
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...
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He glanced at the clock that hung above the door, heaved a heavy breath and returned to staring at the snow-laden ground. As he sat on the wooden floor just outside the door that was slid open, he vaguely wondered why he was still awake and why he found it extremely hard to fall sleep, given that he was awake since six that morning, and it was already four the next day. His phone lit up and rang. Hong Kong had sent him a photo. It showed England's saloon with all the happy nations celebrating Christmas.
Old man. Wish you were here, everyone's having an awesome time.
He scowled and mumbled a few foul words in old Cantonese. Just before he put down his phone, it rang again and he saw that it was from Hong Kong again. When he saw the photo and the caption, blood came gushing to his face. He made futile efforts to fight away the pleasant warmth on his face.
A low growl came from his throat. "I wish I just went. They postponed all the appointments until the 26th." He whined childishly. "As if I could do anything about it now, aru..."
Except this guy, said the caption, together with a photo of Russia sitting on one of the benches under a leafless tree in the cold, white courtyard.
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...
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"Hey, there. Would you mind if I sat here?"
He tore himself away from the view to look at the person standing next to him. It was one of China's siblings; she was the archipelago nation just south east of him, east of China's former southern sea. She held a gingerbread man in one hand and a glass of something in the other. He shook his head and moved a bit to make room for company.
"Thanks. I brought you a drink," she said, offering a glass of clear liquid. He took it gratefully and uttered a word of thanks. "Aren't you cold by yourself out here?" She asked.
He shook his head. "I am quite used to it. It gets much, much colder in Siberia during these times. Especially around February."
"Oooh..." She allowed the passing silence slide past before speakging again. "It's too bad China isn't here..." His purple eyes shifted to her. "I bet it would've been a lot cheerier with him around." She simpered longingly. "I bet he'd go telling off Korea about almost everything he did."
"Da. I am sure it would have happened," he answered as he took a sip from his full glass. His eyes returned to the snow covered scene, half expecting to see China's figure walking toward him. For a moment, he felt stupid for having ever thought of it.
"And I'm sure America would dump the hosting on him since he can't refuse," she continued, biting off her innocent biscuit's head.
"Da, indeed he would."
"And most of all... I'm sure that if he came, you wouldn't be this sad and lonely," she said with a subtle hint of teasing in her voice. "Isn't that right?"
He finished the remaining contents of his glass in one go. Snow flakes began to fall from the sky. He looked up. "If I were to deny that, then I would be lying."
Enduring to suppress her excitement, she morbidly bit off half the gingerbread man's body as a sly smirk spread over her face. "You know something? That's really sweet of you."
He forced a grin. "Thank you. I try."
"So then, why don't you try and find a Christmas miracle inside? I bet there'd be one."
Something sparked in him. "What do you mean?"
"I mean what I just said. Why don't you look for some sort of miracle inside? Could be magic or something, but hey. It's bound to give you what you wish for," she explained.
"A miracle by magic, you say?"
She nodded. There was silence for a few moments. "Well, I'd better head back. Taiwan's probably looking for me now. See you later, Russia," she said as she stood up and waved a hand.
"Da. Thank you for the... Information," he said as he waved good bye.
She nodded and headed back to the saloon.
"So, how did it go? How did it go?" Belgium asked her the minute she got back.
"It was so cold outside I can't even feel my fingers," she grumbled. "Just how does he do it?" She voiced out monotonously, rubbing her hands together to recover some feeling into them.
"Well, did he say anything about China? Come on, tell us!" Hungary prodded excitedly.
"Did you give him a hint about how to get into China's pants, Phil?" Vietnam asked.
"What?" She gave her sister a deadpanning look. "I gave him a hint about getting to China, but I didn't tell him anything about getting into his pants, Viet."
"Philippines, just tell us what he said about him and China already!"
"Don't get your panties in a knot. I'm going to tell you already. But it isn't much."
Hungary and Belgium let out happy squeaks.
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...
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"Miracle, you say?" Russia repeated as he stood from his seat and patted off the snow in his hair before he headed back to the house. Pondering whether or not he should believe what the archipelago nation had said, he felt that the simple prospect of being able to see China after several agonizing months was enough to drive him into believing that there actually was a miracle waiting for him that evening.
It had been almost half a year since they last met, and he was hoping that they would meet at this Christmas party.
Lately, they hadn't had time to make visits to each others' homes since they had far too many things to work on, which resulted in simply sending delegates to discussions instead of coming themselves and speaking. Both of them were confident that their delegates are competent enough to take things into their own hands. But even though relations between their countries had been going smoothly, both of them were enduring the pains of being separated.
I want to see him, were the words that ran in his mind as he wandered around the house, da, I want to see him. Tonight. He simply couldn't take it any longer. When he figured that there were much too many people on the ground floor to find a miracle, he thought of exploring into the deeper depths of England's home, so he ventured up the staircase and strolled along the halls, opening each door to check what lay beyond them. He passed different rooms; there was one that stored different expensive-looking tea sets, some were of white porcelain, some were of clay with rich, earthy colors and some were made of clear and colored glass; there was a room that had shelves and shelves of books, there were volumes from all over the world, and a quarter of them were in six different languages; another room was filled with a vast variety of stuffed animals and warmly colored knit work. Russia had heard that England had knitting and sewing stuffed animals as hobbies, and the proof of them was right there. There were winged unicorns, an assortment of bears, dogs and cats, and a large, light green, winged rabbit. He found the mint-colored rabbit peculiar, so he picked the thing up, and examined it closely. He poked and pulled curiously at the ears and wings until it made a small, high-pitched sound, more like an animal-sounding yelp.
The mint rabbit's expression changed, it seemed shocked by itself.
The tall nation smiled as he held the oddly colored rabbit. "You are alive, are you not?"
It seemed cautious and doubtful for a moment, but it soon spoke. "Please don't tell Igg-err, England that you've seen me."
"Oh! You speak! You really have spoken to me!"
The rabbit made a look, as if saying, yes, I am alive and I just spoke to you, you arse.
For a moment, Russia was distracted from the true reason why he had been snooping around the Briton's home. But he soon caught on, "you are one of his magical friends, da?"
The rabbit looked troubled for a moment before nodding.
"Then I must ask a favor from you," he began. "I want to see someone tonight. Would you be able to help me?"
"Well, it depends. If the person you want to see is dead, then there's nothing I could do about it. Tell me some more details."
"Alright. The person I want to see is on the other side of the world. I want to see him right away," he said, his grip on the rabbit slightly tightening as he thought of China.
"Ah, that sounds pretty simple," the stuffed animal said. "But I won't be able to do anything about it. I can only do low-level magic. I'm just his spy."
"What? Then-"
"You should tell Iggy, he may not look like it, but he's really good with magic. I'm positively sure he'll be able to do something about it. I know he always has his wand with him, so it's fine," the stuffed rabbit grinned and waved a soft, fluffy, green paw. "But in case he doesn't have it with him, it's probably in his magic room. But I like to call it his dark lair," the rabbit giggled.
"Is that true?"
"I don't lie."
"I hope you do not."
It shook its head.
"Alright, then. I shall look for him and tell him," Russia concluded. "I am grateful to you, rabbit. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Russia."
He put down the stuffed animal back to where he found it. "How do you know my name?"
"I told you, haven't I? I'm his spy."
He left the room and quickly jogged down the hall, not knowing that he was moving away from the main stairs, and deeper into the hallway. His mind was running about with him when he found bright purple light streaming from a door that was not properly closed. Apparently, he was too absorbed that he had not been aware of the person stealthily following behind him.
"Let's see here," the blond took out a list from his vest pocket. "There are the Baltics, the Nordics, the Asians, and Europe, of course, but..." He skimmed through the list again, "why does it feel that I've missed someone? I'm quite sure I've prepared gifts for everyone. Who have I missed, though?"
"England!" Russia exclaimed as he stepped into the room. "I have found you!"
Russia. Oh, bloody... I don't remember preparing anything for him. How rude of me, he thought as he discreetly shoved the list back into his pocket.
"Russia, what are you doing here?" The Briton asked, slightly surprised. "Shouldn't you be downstairs with everyone else? And how did you find my secret lai-I mean, my dark magic room?"
"Shouldn't tonight's host be downstairs with everyone as well?" The Russian recoiled. "But that is not the point. I came here by the recommendation of an oddly colored rabbit with wings," he explained.
Wait, he's been snooping around my house?
"England, I want to ask a favor from you," the platinum blond continued. "Please."
"What is it?" He asked, curiosity growing. The large nation had never asked him for anything before.
"I..." He clasped his hands together with the fingers intertwined. "I want to see China tonight." His ample cheeks were filled with rose-colored, youthful ardor. "Please... W-Would you be able to do something with your magic to make it so?"
England recalled the brief affair he had with the nation in question. Though he felt uncomfortable for a moment, he was able to pull himself into order. "Y-You want to see him?" He repeated.
Russia nodded. "Would you be able to do something?"
I suppose this could count as my Christmas gift to him, he thought to himself. He would feel bad if he refused to help, even if were Russia. The taller nation's resolve reminded him so much of one of the heroes in his novels.
"Alright. I'll help you."
Peeking in from the door that was a quarter open, one of the Oriental nations grinned mischievously as he took his phone and sent a message.
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...
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He arrived to the spot he had been sitting on earlier, carrying a pot of tea and a single ceramic cup. He sat back down and poured himself a spot of tea. As he drank from his cup, he decided that he would not sleep anymore since it was already a quarter to five in the morning, unless lethargy decides to pay him a visit. He judged that he would simply sleep in the day. All the plans on Christmas day had been cancelled, anyway.
"Huh? Another message from Hong Kong," he guessed as he picked up his phone. There weren't any photos, just a text message.
Something good's going to happen tonight, the message said.
"What the hell is this kid talking about, aru?"
He merely shrugged and brushed it off, and returned to his tea.
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...
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"Hey, Germany..." America spoke after some time of thinking. He was with the other nations, having a drink of beer and exchanging accounts.
The burly European nation turned to look at him. Curious, Italy turned to him, as well.
"What?" He asked curtly.
"You know... I've just noticed. After all this time, I only noticed this now," he said, his was as if he just had one of the biggest epiphanies in his life. "It's a little amazing, if you think about it..."
"Spit it out already, you dirty dope," Vietnam spat. Thailand was holding her firmly, preventing her from wobbling off to the floor. She went on a drinking contest with Prussia, Hungary and Denmark earlier, while the latter switched places with Iceland in the music booth.
"Ve, do tell us, America!" Italy prodded on. The other nations nearby listened, as well.
"Well... Doesn't Germany sound like Dracula when he talks?" The American said. The nations around him wore looks. "I mean, all he needs is a cape and some fangs and he's good to go on a bloodsucking spree, right?"
"What?" The German in question blurted out.
"See? Say that again, Germany. But this time, add some accent into it!" The American said, raising his beer.
"Like, that? But doesn't, like, France sound like Dracula when he talks, too?" Poland butt in. "But then again, it would sound more Dracula-ish if Germany had a French accent."
"What are you talking about, Po?" Lithuania caught, attempting to reason out. "Wouldn't that be-"
"Wait, that does sound interesting..." America muttered. He then turned to Germany. "Hey, dude. Could you try talking in some fancy French accent? Come on, just to see if you'd sound more like Dracula that way."
"What the hell are you talking about?" The brawny German exclaimed. "You are clearly being childish again. Why don't you act your age?"
"N'awwe... That'd just be boring, Germy. And come on, it's Christmas, for Pete's sake!"
"Like, who's Pete?"
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...
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"Would you be able to do it?"
"Of course, I would," the Briton answered with arrogant confidence. "Don't worry. I promise you'll see China before the night ends." He paused for a moment; he felt like he was promising to a child.
"How would you do that?"
"Well, first of all..." England whipped around, looking for something. "We need to find something that you could use."
Russia looked around as well. The room was really dark, except for the glass window, the slightly opened door, and a pair of peculiar lamps that sat on two tables at opposite sides of the room. The glass lamps resembled stiff flower vases, except that some bright, lavender liquid was glowing inside them. He took notice that on one of the corners of the room, there was a chair. He recognized it to be the chair that England eagerly wanted him to sit on a while back. What was its name again? Bearbee? Rugby? Beezlebub? Oh, he remembered. It was Busby. Busby's chair, he heard him call it. He grinned to see that it was fixed now, he felt bad for destroying the thing when he sat on it.
"Ah, here we go," England finally said, tearing the Russian away from his reminiscing. "Come over here for a second."
"What is that?"
"As you can see," he started as he took up the large item, "it's an antique mirror."
He held it up, letting it lean on his foot. It was a mirror as tall as he was. The frame was of oak wood, and the carvings of flowers were exquisite. Russia looked at the glass and saw his reflection. He recognized the style.
"It was from France, was it not?"
England nearly choked with a fierce blush. "Y-Yes, h-he gave this to me on one of my birthdays, but that isn't the point here." He straightened himself up and continued, "you see, I'm going to cast a spell on this mirror. It would be like a portal. The other side would be China's home. So, the moment you step into this, you'll be in China. Now, you would be able to fit here, won't you?"
He nodded.
"Alright," he let the taller nation hold the thing, and took out a piece of chalk and began drawing an array on the floor. "This venture concerns time and space, so it's going to have to take up a considerable amount of magic. Now, I'll be needing some offering to complete this. I'm going to have to offer some blood. Yours and mine," he finished as he stood up. The array was also done. It looked complicated, what with the circles and triangles and lines and such.
"That is simple."
"Alright. Now, put the mirror in the middle of the circle, but be careful not to smudge the array."
Russia did as he was told, and continued to follow the rest of the wizard's instructions. Lastly, England reached for a lump of fabric from one of the shelves nearest him. He unraveled the navy blue fabric tainted with small, gold stars, and pulled out a sleek, silver dagger that shone in the light. Its hilt was adorned with gems, tiny emeralds and sapphires, with a ruby protruding at the center. It appeared unbelievably sharp because of its abrupt point. He placed his arm directly above the center of the mirror and made a puncture on it. He did not wince, nor did he show any emotion, for that matter, when he injured himself. As his blood dripped and dropped from his arm, Russia was fascinated to see that the drops of blood did not land on the surface of the mirror, but instead, it dropped into the antique object. It was as if the surface of the mirror was some sort of liquid substance.
"Give me your forearm," England ordered.
Russia was slightly taken aback; he had never heard England so serious and concentrated as he was at the moment. He was intently focused, and there was a peculiar glint in England's eyes while he fixed them on the array. He did as he was told and the same thing happened; his blood plunged into the mirror and was completely absorbed. When the final drop fell, England took out a wand, like the Elder wand in Harry Potter, and began reciting Latin incantations. Russia watched him with a childish look of astonishment. His amazement grew when the wizard had been reciting the incantations for quite a length of time and the mirror began to give off bright, white light. The light, together with the incantations, intensified and in an abrupt flash, there was an explosion of light and there was a moment of deafening silence and mist.
"E-England...?" He called as he rubbed his eyes. "What happened?"
There was the sound of wood being scraped. When the mist cleared away, the Briton came into view. He held the mirror upright and gestured that he come closer.
"It's done," he said, triumph emanating from his voice. "This mirror has already become a portal. The other side is China's house."
He looked into the mirror, but he only saw his reflection. His hands started to tremble with excitement. The only thing that stood between him and China was that mirror. He would finally see him again, after so long. His heart began to pound against his ribs. He lifted a hand and prepared to pass it through the wall.
But hanging just a few centimeters away from the portal, England spoke, putting him to a halt. "Wait. I almost forgot. You should remember that you'd only be able to use this six times. It would close off afterwards. Once you pass through, the space available to pass through would begin to shrink, so be careful."
He nodded. "Is there anything else?"
The wizard shook his head. "Go on and..." He paused for a second, "Merry Christmas," he said with a light blush. "Tell him that for me, too."
Russia handed him a charming grin. "Da, I will." And he bent himself so he would fit into the mirror. England watched him disappear into the portal.
After he was left alone, a person with fairly thick brows came wobbling into the room. He looked at the person dubiously and crossed his arms. "Now, what are you doing here, Hong Kong? Shouldn't you be downstairs with everybody else?"
"Shouldn't the host be down there, too?" The Chinese recoiled. "Anyway, that light with your magic earlier... It felt like a hundred killer camera flashes in one go," he said, shaking his head into full consciousness.
"Well, no one told you to stare at it."
Hong Kong ignored his comeback. "But I never imagined you'd use your dark magic to help reunite those two lovelorn lovebirds," he told him with a teasing leer. "That was pretty sweet of you."
"Shut up, you bloody brat. I forgot to prepare a Christmas present for Russia, and I felt pretty guilty with leaving China all alone on Christmas eve, so I simply went ahead with it."
"You know, it's already a little bit after five over there... Which means it's Christmas already, not Christmas eve."
"Whatever. Let's go already. They're probably looking for us now."
"Oh, yeah, which reminds me... France was looking for you a while back. He said we wanted you in bed, so-"
"I don't want to hear that from you, Hong Kong," he snapped, redness returning to his face. "Now, let's go."
"Sure, you go on ahead. I'll just have to send something," he said as he took out his phone.
"Whatever. Just don't touch anything there, unless you want to turn into a bloody toad." He added, "and I'm serious about the 'bloody' part."
The Chinese waved a hand languidly. Once England left, he went over the mirror and examined it.
"Five times left, huh?" He glanced around, making sure he was the only one there. "Alright, then. Let's check if it really does work."
He stepped in, and closed his eyes as he felt the sensation of passing through thick water. The instant he opened his eyes again, he was in a fairly familiar bamboo forest, but everything was covered in snow. He judged that the older nation's house was nearby. He sighed and turned around. The area where he had come through was easy to spot. The patch of space appeared as if water were floating in mid air. He stepped into it, and returned to London.
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...
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Russia walked around in the sea of bamboo and snow until he found a space clear of any plants. He found a familiar wooden home that stood in the midst of the tall, slim trees. The pounding in his chest intensified and he ran toward the house.
As he sat on the wood, he spotted motion in the tall bamboo and prepared himself. The next second, there was someone charging at him. He nearly panicked, but when he saw the familiar shade of silver on the person's head, he eased himself and finding a slight difficulty in breathing. He was surprised, but his heart melted at the sight of Russia coming to him.
"China!" He called as he neared the house.
"R-Russia! What are you doing here, aru?"
The European ignored the question and tightly wrapped his arms around the older nation. The latter, in turn, did the same and slid his arms around the other's waist. The warmth was pleasant and welcoming. Oh, how he longed for that warmth. How many months had he bore the aching weight on his chest?
When Russia had let go, he gazed longingly into China's hazel eyes and smiled with innocent happiness and sweet contentment.
"I have missed you so much."
"Y-You weren't the only one, aru."
"Would you like to come to London with me? The other nations are all there, and they truly wish you would be there with them, as well."
"Huh? Won't the party be over when we get there? And I don't know if we could catch a plane to there any time soon. I know the flights are fully booked at this time."
The Russian took the elder nation's hand, and saw him flush a light pink, which made him smile with childish amusement. "Come with me," he said as he led the way to the place where the portal was.
"What is that, aru?" China asked when he saw that a space looked as if water had been floating in thin air.
"It is a portal that England made for me so I could see you tonight," he said, still having the grin on his face. "Oh, I have almost forgotten. He says 'Merry Christmas,' by the way." He gestured to the odd patch of air. "Now, you simply have to pass through here."
"What?"
"Do not worry, just go ahead."
China appeared hesitant for a moment, but he eventually did as he was told. After the sensation of passing through thick water, he found himself in a dimly lit room. The next second, Russia stood beside him. The taller nation took his hand again, and led him out of the room, into the hallway, down the stairs and into the saloon.
"Aiyaa, aru... We really are in London." China marveled at the fact. "This is... This is..."
"Oh. My. Gosh!" Hungary gasped, "he really is here," she said as she spotted them near the Christmas tree. "And they're holding hands!" She let out an excited, high-pitched squeak.
"What? What? Where are they?" Belgium blurted out in the middle of her beer, spilling some on her shirt. "Tell me, where are they?"
"Over there, you!" Hungary yelled as she pushed the blonde to look at one of the corners of the room.
"See? What'd I told you?" Hong Kong muttered.
"Well I'll be..." America trailed. He quickly hopped onto the stage and swiped away the mic. "Hey! Everybody, may I please have your complete and unwavering attention and let's all welcome a new arrival! Old man China is in the building!"
Everyone's attention was redirected to where Russia and China were. Their hands were still clasped. China quickly let go, a fierce blush building up in his face. England saw the two of them and was immediately alarmed. He fought through the crowd to get to Russia, and pulled him away from the all the other nations' eyes.
"Russia! What the bloody hell were you thinking? Why did you bring him here? We never agreed on anything about bringing him over here," he rambled in British panic, throwing his arms around for emphasis. "What would you tell them if they ask how he got here? Seriously, no one, I repeat, no one is supposed to know about my magic!"
The Russian set his arms on the blond's shoulders and grinned. "Do not fret, England. No one will know about this. I shall tell him now not to say anything about your magic."
"Oh..." He breathed, extremely exasperated. "You better do that! Unless you want to be turned into a potato!"
And he left, making his way across the crowd.
"Nini!" The Asians greeted and crowded around him. "Merry Christmas!"
"I thought you were busy?" Japan asked.
"Well, let's just say there was a sudden change of plans, aru," he replied with a slightly troubled smile.
"Kuya!" The Philippines called as she embraced him and kissed both his cheeks. "We're so glad you're here! Merry Christmas, kuya! Even if you don't really celebrate it!"
"Oh, thank you, Philippines," he answered as he returned her embrace. "Merry Christmas, too."
"Gege!" Taiwan cried. "I was so sad when you said you wouldn't be able to come tonight, gege!" She hugged him and continued, "but I'm happy that you're with us now!"
"Oh, Taiwan," he started, "why don't we make the best of Christmas with everyone, as a family?" He stroked back her hair.
"Yo, China! Murry Chrisums," Vietnam said loudly as she pushed into the elder nation's hands a bottle of Danish beer, which Thailand had taken away just before it reached China. "Why don't you come and have a drink with us?" She hiccupped.
"Err, merry Christmas," Thailand said as he firmly held Vietnam, steadying her. As if answering China's questioning look, he explained, "she had a drinking contest with Denmark and the others earlier. And even after the contest, they still drank, so..." He made a gesture, referring to the female continental nation.
The eldest nation nodded at comprehension. "Well, you take care of her, okay?"
"I will," Thailand replied as he steered Vietnam to an empty chair.
"China! Mon ami! I am so glad you could make it tonight," France said as he kissed each of the Asian's cheeks. The blond handed him a glass of wine, which he took, and swung an arm around him. China sipped some wine. "So, I see you are taking pleasure in Russia's company, oui?"
The eldest nation gagged and almost spilled his drink. He slipped out of France's reach, flushed and stammered, "i-it isn't anything like that! It's-"
France chuckled and patted his shoulder. "Relax and take it easy, my friend. Even just for tonight."
"Hey-"
"Hyuuuuuuuuung!" South Korea bawled. "Hyung! I was absolutely devastated when you forgot all about us, your family, when you decided not to come tonight! But I'm really, really glad that with the help of some cosmic power which resulted into a Christmas miracle, which originated from my home, you were able to unite with us! Merryyyyyyyyy Christmaaaaaaaas!"
"What? First of all, I never forgot about all of you, idiot. I couldn't do that even if I tried. And second, I wasn't the one who decided not to come. My schedule did that for me, aru." Before he could say another word, the Korean jumped at him, embraced him and began groping at him. He labored hard as he tried to keep the glass in his hand stable. "Ack!"
"So, Prince Charming finally rescued you from the loneliness of spending the night alone?" Hong Kong said as he stood behind the eldest nation, who was being groped.
"Hong Kong! W-What are you talking about, aru?"
"Oh, come on, old man. I know about how Russia asked England to do something with his magic just so he could see you tonight," he said. "So, I'm guessing you're happy with his company?"
"What are you talking about?" He caught the South Korean's hand just in time before it reached one of his most vital regions. "I... O-Of course I am, aru," China said. A light pink color drenched his face. When he saw the younger nation smirk, he scowled. With sudden, brute force, he pushed off the Korean. "Why-"
"China!"
"Ah! Speak of the devil, here he comes," Hong Kong said as they watched Russia coming over to them. "Well, enjoy yourself, old man." Then, he disappeared.
"Russia, I-"
"Please, let me speak to you. I have something ultimately important to tell you," he started. "If anyone asks, please, please do not tell anyone about England's mystic ways. It is important to keep it a secret. If any of the other nations find out, he will turn me into a root crop," he said with utmost seriousness and determination. In fact, he was so serious it was almost hilarious.
Mystic ways, aru?
"Okay. Don't worry. I won't tell them," he assured him. "Oh, right. Have this, too, aru," he held out the glass that France handed to him. The Russian took it from him, downed it in one go, and set the glass on one of the nearest tables.
The night pressed on, and the guests were having a good time. There were games, for children, for adults and for both, prizes, which were mostly chocolates and candies, a wide range of music from around the globe, heaps and heaps of food from the different parts of the world, an extensive selection of overflowing drinks, and a lot of stripping. It was a good thing that the younger nations and some of the micronations were told to go to bed earlier. The older nations insisted that children should get enough sleep for their growing bodies. But of course, that was simply an excuse so that they could make the best of that night their way, with no holds barred.
It was already nearing midnight. France popped in a CD into the player, and a slow, romantic-sounding, French song echoed from the stereo. He swiped England from the group he had been discussing with, placed his arms around his waist, pulling him close, and swayed along with the music. Spain did the same with the tomato-faced Romano, as did Belgium with Switzerland, since Liechtenstein is already asleep, she said. The Netherlands borrowed the Philippines from her sisters, and Austria led Hungary away, and they waltzed to the music. The younger of the Italy brothers pulled along Germany, who yielded willingly. Other pairs also surrendered to the music, as if it were a charmer.
The two communists watched them from their single sofas that sat beside each other. It was already the third song.
"China, would you like to-"
"I won't dance, aru."
"Oh. Okay."
China was happy. He was happy that all his appointments for the 25th were cancelled, that England agreed to help Russia with his magic, and that finally, he was there, in a saloon in London, sitting beside him. He yawned and glimpsed at the clock. As he stretched lazily, he momentarily slumped back on the soft, warm chair before straightening himself up. "I think I should get going already," he said. "I should let the host know, aru." He stood up and Russia did the same. It was lucky that France was dancing with Prussia and England was taking a rest on a seat nearby.
"England, I should get going now, aru," he said.
"Oh, okay. I hope you enjoyed yourself tonight," the Briton said.
"Right, about that..." He caught sight of Russia, who was removing something from the top of the door hedge. He moved closer and bent over, so as not to let anyone hear. "Merry Christmas, England. And," he took a breath and lowered his voice into a frail whisper as he felt heat across his face, "t-thanks for letting me see him tonight, aru."
The Briton couldn't help himself but smile broadly. "Of course, China. It was nothing. I just hope you made the best of my world class magic. But don't you dare try and let anyone know," he reminded. "Well, since you'll be going home the same way you came... I suppose Russia could lead you the way to my secret, magic lair?"
"Y-Yeah. Anyway, thanks again and good night."
"Good night, China. Merry Christmas," he returned with a smile.
With a curt bow, he turned to where Russia was and told him to lead the way. As they passed the Christmas tree, China took a final look at the place, and noticed that some of the other nations had already left, as well. Only the strong remain standing, he thought.
"Well, here is the portal," Russia said as he set the antique mirror securely against the wall. "It was a good night." He pulled his lips to a sad grin. "You take care now, da?"
The older nation stood before the mirror and appeared hesitant for a moment. He couldn't bring himself to lift his face up to look at Russia. It would just be too mortifying. He was absolutely sure that his face was unusually red. And he just couldn't afford to embarrass himself.
"Right. Goo-"
"China," Russia called suddenly. The Asian was startled, and he automatically shot up and looked at him. The taller nation pulled out something from his pocket, which he lifted it over their heads. China flushed when he saw what hovered above them.
"That's..."
"I took it when you had been speaking with England earlier," he stated, smiling timidly. "It is mistletoe." Without waiting for anything, he bent over and spread his lips over the older nation's. The kiss lingered for a moment, and China began to feel heat across his pallid face. Russia let go and cooed gently, "merry Christmas, China. I was truly happy to see you tonight, after so long. Good night."
Still helplessly baffled, not a single sound came out from his lips. His knees grew weak. He staggered for a second before completely letting himself stumble backwards, plunging into the mirror. The last thing he saw before the sensation of passing through thick water was the image of Russia with mistletoe in his hand, and some vivid color across his cheeks.
He fell to the cold, snowy ground as the sun warmed him with its aureous glow. He passed a finger across his lips, remembering how he previously felt. More blood came rushing to his face. He heard his phone ring. It was another message from Hong Kong.
Yo, China! I bet you liked that smooth move from Russia, huh? Left you hanging, I'm sure. :)) Anyway, the others send their regards. Merry Christmas, old man. :P
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... meh ... meh ... meh ... merry chrisums ...
~mini epilogue~
Sealand's eyes sprang open with excitement. "It's... It's Christmas already!"
He glanced around and saw Wy, Ladonnia and Kugelmugel in the nearby beds. Seborga was snugly sleeping in the bed farthest away from him, nearest the door. He recalled that Seborga volunteered to sleep with the children the previous night, though he went to bed pretty late.
"Wy! Wake up! It's Christmas already!"
"Mmmph..." The lass groaned as she reluctantly opened her eyes. "What is it, Sealand?"
"It's Christmas alrady! Let's go open presents!"
After waking up everybody and persuading the others to bend to his will, they made their way downstairs to the Christmas tree. Ladonnia was a little grumpy, but he was also eager to open up presents. Kugelmugel hoped to receive an antique, 15th century Renaissance painting. Giggling excitedly, Sealand skipped on while Wy followed after him. Seborga was more interested in breakfast.
"Here we are!" Sealand said. But the moment they laid eyes on the saloon, his smile slipped off and a look of confusion and surprise took over. "Wh... What happened?" A lot of the older nations were sprawled across the floor, some hanging off of furniture. Some were dressed, some only had half, others were naked.
"This isn't art!" Kugelmugel exclaimed.
"Mmmph... So this is what they call fun?" Ladonnia commented.
"Eh? Is Hutt River dead?" Wy asked.
"No, Wy. He's pretty much alive," Seborga answered with a slightly troubled smile. "Let's just say that had a little too much fun last night. So, why don't we open up some presents?"
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A/N: Yeah. First of all, happy holidays. Merry Chrisums and Happy New Year. Sorry if this was late. I planned to upload this on Christmas eve, but unfortunately, SOMETHING HAPPEND. The thing was done, but when I was going to upload it, half the story was deleted. *le gasp* So I had to rewrite it. 8|
Whatever. Anyway, I just hope you guys liked it, even just a little.
Oh, to those who know me from Panda, I'm working on the epilogue, though I'm sort of torn between making a separate fic for the USxUK thingy on there, but... Ah, what the hell.
OH, BY THE WAY, HAS ANYONE ELSE NOTICED HOW HOT SEBORGA IS?
/shot
Okay. 'Till next time, I suppose. Bye.
PS
Why do I always, always imagine France talking like Lumier from Beauty and the Beast when he talks in English? 8|