So just a disclaimer: there aren't any funny accents in this fic because the understanding is that everyone speaks Russian. For the same reason, I won't be using cutesy names to express familiarity-our babies addressing each other by their human names should be enough indication of familiarity.

I am doing some research into Slavic witchcraft, but please keep in mind that I'll be taking artistic liberties so I hope none of the readers will be offended!

As always, reviews and faves are appreciated, and enjoy!

It was a good thing little Russia was so familiar with the winter season. The young nation almost died today, no thanks to that Germanic oaf, Teutonic Knights! He told him it would be dangerous to fight on the lake because the ice was still too thin, but the idiot went ahead and charged at him anyway! Both their troops were wiped out, drowned or frozen in the icy water. Teutonic Knights was lucky little Kievan Rus' was nice enough to help him out of the water before he could drown with his men. The worst part was that the little mongrel didn't even say thank you. He can be so ungrateful and tactless.

Since his troops all died, the little blond Russian was now walking home, alone and soaked to the bone. He was shivering violently, the moisture turning to ice against his skin. His ragged garments turned stiff like a pleated sheet of ice. Russia decided to pick up twigs and broken branches along the way so his big sister could make him a fire for him to warm up. His mind wandered towards his memories of warm, cozy fires, bundled up with his sisters in their old blankets, their cabin walls protecting them from the harsh wind. He became more eager to get home.

He was approaching their little cabin, his arms filled with a bundle of firewood, when a loud wailing started. Startled, Russia dropped the wood to clamp his frozen hands over his ears, gritting his teeth against the head-splitting noise. He dropped to his knees in the snow, paralyzed by the sound until he saw his sisters, Ukraine and Belarus, running from the cabin, the door swinging wildly behind them and threatening to fall off its hinges from the wild wailing that erupted from their home. Ukraine was firmly holding Belarus' hand, and when she saw Russia crumbled in the snow, she picked him up and ran deep into the woods. She ran and ran and didn't stop until the shrieking cries were just a dull, haunting buzz in their wind.

"What are you doing?" cried Russia from under Ukraine's arm where he'd been hoisted, his ears still ringing from the shrill sound. "Sofia!" He'd been so looking forward to a warm fire to cuddle up and every step she took crushed his hopes more and more.

Ukraine's only reply was to shush at him loudly. After that sudden, endless wailing, she wanted nothing more than quiet. Young Belarus whimpered at her harsh whisper. They continued to run as far their legs could take them until they were exhausted. They stopped in a clearing that seemed to have been a recently abandoned camp. Probably the Poles again—another country that refused to leave Russia alone.

"What are you doing?" Russia asked again, his agitation growing worse at his sister's uncharacteristic coldness.

"I was running," panted Ukraine, lowering her tired body into the trampled snow.

Belarus whimpered with guilt and fiddled with the hem of her dress, sitting herself down on the wide stump with her legs tucked under her to warm her feet up. Her shoes were too worn out for this much running in the snow. "Please don't be mad at me, Big Brother," she pleaded, frowning from the inconvenience she caused them.

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"What did you do?" Ukraine asked from where she lay on the ground. She had no idea what occurred either. It was all so sudden and it was only now that she stopped running that fear started to grip at her.

"I was just talking to this old woman," whined Belarus defensively. "She promised me candy if I let her in the house and you never give me enough food anyway!" she said in one breath.

Russia gave her a look of disbelief. "Belarus," he said, dumbfounded, "that's the oldest trick in the book."

"But Natalya, there wasn't any old woman in the cabin," reasoned Ukraine. It had just been the two of them since Russia went out with his troops.

"Yes, there was," she whined.

"I was at the door right next to the stove and no woman came in!"

"She came through the wall in the bedroom," explained Belarus, angry that they weren't listening.

Russia and Ukraine both froze from this revelation.

"Natalya," started Russia, pausing as he let this all sink in. He wasn't getting his cozy fire anytime soon, he realized. "You let a ghost into our home."

"She told me she was a friendly witch," she defended.

Ukraine gasped. Now was not the time to explain to their baby sister that friendly witches didn't haunt people's homes. "I'll start a fire," she sighed. "Ivan, could you catch us something to eat?"

"But I wanna go back and get my candy!" whined Belarus.

Neither of them had the heart to tell her she wasn't getting her candy anytime soon. It was about as likely as Russia getting his cozy fire, which he'd given up on by now. He was still stiff and frozen as he hunted for their dinner and was pleasantly surprised when he came back and saw Ukraine sitting by a small fire, warming up her own hands. Russia prepared the rabbits he caught and cooked them over the fire. Although it warmed his clothes and his fingers, the occasional gust of wind through the trees made it impossible for him to relax in the comforting warmth. He wanted to go home…

Belarus was still pouting quietly on her tree stump. It didn't look like she moved from there since they camped here. Russia secretly started calling it the Sulk Stump.

"How will we get the ghost out?" he asked, hoping it could be done soon.

"The wise women in the nearby village will know what to do," said Ukraine, having already thought about it. "We should see them in the morning."

"But we need shelter," frowned Russia.

"There's a farm on the other side of the forest," mumbled Belarus. She'd stolen some of their goats in the past to bring home.

"We should sneak into the barn after dark," suggested Ukraine. Russia could only agree. A barn with animals and walls and hay bedding would be far better than the snowy ground they were currently sitting on. Since they were already used to agricultural labour, the smell was hardly a deterrent.

As they sat around the dwindling fire, Russia recounted to them his encounter with the Teutonic Knights. He wrapped his cloak a little tighter around his shoulders as he spoke, remembering the chill he felt since the lake. It hadn't completely gone away yet, even though he was sitting just inches from a fire. They spent the evening talking about the usual mundane things. At some point they even discussed their potential futures as Nations.

When night finally cloaked them and the fire light dwindled and went, they got up to walk to the barn Belarus mentioned. They made sure to be as quiet as possible as they snuck into the small barn, soon finding the hay bails and huddling up. They piled into the hay and bundled themselves in burlap they found laying around. There was an occasional bleat from a goat or a cluck from a chicken as they tried to sleep, stealing each other's body heat. Russia shivered with every creak in the wood and Ukraine whimpered with every whisper of the wind. Belarus was the only one that seemed calm, untrembling, but she kept her eyes vigilant, constantly peering into the dark for movement. She realized she made a mistake today. She didn't know how to fix it, but she knew from her siblings' behaviour that she should be afraid.

Russia would have thought Belarus had been sleeping peacefully if it weren't for the fact that he could feel her heart pounding against his chest through her back. He wrapped a protective arm around her. She curled into his chest. The three siblings braced themselves against the other and slowly, hesitantly, they drifted off to sleep.