The Ties That Bind Us

Usual disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or any of its characters. I simply borrow them for a while and then put them back when I'm done playing with them. They, instead, belong to the wonderful Hidekaz Himaruya.

I feel it is also worth mentioning that this story will have some level of smut to it. For those that aren't sure what I mean, let me make this clear; THERE WILL BE *SEX*. Not a lot of it, and nothing overly-graphic, but it will be there. There will also be acts of violence and a heavy emphasis on the happenings of World War II. Please keep in mind that any racist comments in regards to Jewish/Polish people do NOT reflect the personal opinions of the writer. I have done my best to keep this politically correct, but I'm not perfect, so if you fear that your feelings may be hurt, you need to not read this fanfiction. Flames will not be tolerated.

Shout-outs: First off, and most importantly, thanks need to go to Shannon A. Bernstein for being so kind as to beta-read this fanfiction for me. Given that this is my first Hetalia fanfiction, I definitely need all the help and input she's been so kind as to bestow upon me.

Secondly, thanks needs to go to VandettA cosplay group. Whenever I found myself with writer's block (which was often), I watched their videos for inspiration. Thanks ladies, you rock!

Chapter 01

Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth

Lublin, Poland

Summer, 1618

"Toris! Toris, where are you?"

Lithuania's young personification rose to his feet from his stooped position in the high wheat field, smiling and waving when he spotted his blond counterpart at the crest of the hill, his bright green eyes searching through the endless rows of golden brown.

"Over here, Feliks!"

Lithuania couldn't help but smile as Poland placed his hands on his slender hips and pouted his lower lip out in obvious displeasure. The sun, which had been high in the early afternoon sky what seemed like only minutes ago, was dipping it way slowly and steadily towards the horizon. There was a good chance he had missed dinner – again – which would be the source of Poland's unmasked displeasure with him.

"What are you doing?"

"Picking wheat. What else would I be doing in a wheat field?"

Poland huffed indignantly before spurring himself into motion, bounding down the hill and through the tall-standing stalks like a puppy tromping through virgin snow. His beautiful shoulder-length hair whipped around his face like oversized ears and the red scarf at his throat billowed out behind him, making him stand out starkly against the monochromatic wheat stalks.

"You missed dinner, again! You promised me you, like, totes wouldn't lose track of time!"

Lithuania smiled bashfully and brushed a few stray strands of hair out of his face, shifting the weight of a stack of wheat from one underarm to the other.

"I'm sorry, Feliks. It's so peaceful out here, I just can't help it. You know I don't like being up at the palace with all those stuffy nobles. Of course, it's not nearly so bad as being at Cracow, but still. If I have the chance to be out here, this is where I'd prefer to be."

"That's no excuse for missing dinner! You should be glad that King Vasa won't be here until tomorrow! He would, like, chop off your head if you missed dinner with him!"

"Well, I guess it's a good thing that my body would just regenerate, then."

Poland opened his mouth to reply, paused, and then snapped his jaw shut before setting a narrowed-eyed stare on Lithuania.

"You have some of the worst humor I've ever heard. Seriously. And aside from that, you need to eat! You're totes too skinny!"

As if to drive his point home, he extended one slender hand and poked good-naturedly at the sensitive skin directly under Lithuania's ribcage. The taller boy laughed in reply, nearly dropping his bushel of wheat.

"I don't need to eat, either. The Commonwealth is thriving. That is all the more sustenance either of our bodies require."

Poland's cheeks puffed out as he stomped one booted foot against the earth, his hands curled into fists at his sides. The sight of one of the greatest nation's personification's pitching a fit like a child was just too much for Lithuania to take and he burst out laughing, finally dropping the precious stack of wheat under his right arm. It fell towards the ground and scattered upon impact, an entire day's effort lost.

"Stop being so logical and just come home already! And stop laughing at me, it's, like, not funny at all!"

Attempting to wipe the grin from his face was sure to be a wasted effort, but still Lithuania tried. He pursed his lips into a thin, flat line and locked his hands behind his back, pushing his shoulders and chest out in a militia-style stance. One glance at Poland's face, which was still flush with annoyance, brought the laughter bubbling back up from inside him and he doubled over, dropping gracelessly to his butt amongst his spilled wheat stalks.

"Toris!"

Poland did his best to sound angry, but the smile that slowly started to curve his lips up came out in his tone, and when Lithuania only laughed harder in reply, he conceded the tactical victory and dropped to his knees, laying himself out in the crushed wheat stalks at Lithuania's side.

"You're such a pain in my butt! Do you know that?"

Lithuania did the best he could to compose himself, sitting up and wiping stray tears from his eyes and cradling his aching stomach in one hand.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I, like, totes hate being up there at the palace too. For the real, all those rules and regulations are a complete bummer. And those nobles can be super-freaky at times. Makes me want to hide behind you or something. Which is really not flattering to Poland."

"Only because you have chronic stranger-danger issues. You see them all the time, Feliks."

"It doesn't mean I enjoy seeing them. They're all so strict and straight-faced. They feel like strangers to me."

Poland's hands were moving. At some point, he had propped himself up on his hip and was laying halfway over Lithuania's slightly taller frame, leaving his right hand free to roam as it pleased. Lithuania drew in a soft, barely audible gasp of surprise as Poland one-handedly undid the button at his throat, letting his shirt fall open to mid-chest. That same hand unabashedly crept its way under the soft, airy fabric and started tracing slow, sensual circles around one nipple.

"F-Feliks… we have no privacy out here. What if someone sees us?"

"Mmm… I wouldn't, like, worry about that too much. We have more privacy down here than we ever will there."

It was a valid point, but Lithuania was still nervous at the idea that anyone could come looking for them. His eyes darted nervously back and forth, seeing nothing but wheat stalks stretching and straining to touch the cloudless sky above his head.

"Calm down, Toris. We're on royal grounds, at least a quarter of a league from the palace. The nobles have already moved into the drawing room to medicate themselves with vodka. No one is going to come looking for us."

Poland's voice was surprisingly soft and patient, and it drew Lithuania's attention away from the endless evening sky so he instead could become endlessly lost in his lover's bright, clear green eyes.

"… Feliks…"

Poland smiled, a loose and relaxed grin that crinkled the skin under his eyes, as he leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to the bridge of Lithuania's nose.

"Trust me. Don't you, like, trust me?"

He did. He always had, and he always would. Poland could be egotistical, stubborn, rude, and downright selfish at times. He could say things that cut deep, and never showed any form of regret or remorse for his cruelty. He cheated at chess, he skipped out on required work every chance he got, and Lithuania sometimes wondered if his 'stranger danger' was just a ploy to get others to handle his political obligations. From the outside looking in, Poland had few positive attributes.

Lithuania was not on the outside looking in. He was, instead, intimately inclusive; inside Poland's home, inside Poland's bed, inside Poland's heart. When you were that close, you were part of the elite in Poland's eyes. You mattered, and you were important, and you were beautiful. And he would do anything and everything he could to protect those few he allowed in.

"… Poland…"

"No. It's Feliks. You don't call me Poland. You call me Feliks, because that's my name. That's who I am. I don't love Lithuania; I love Toris. Lithuania is a patch of land. Toris is a living, breathing creature. A person."

Lithuania nodded his head weakly and swallowed, licking his dry lips with his almost-as-dry tongue.

"… Feliks… you know I trust you. With anything and everything."

The smile became ever-so-slightly triumphant, and Poland dipped his head down to rest his lips a mere half-inch away from Lithuania's.

"I know."

He closed the distance between them, and Lithuania closed his eyes as his mind sank down, deep and formless and lucid, into everything that was Poland.

There was always a beautiful sort of a calm that came over him, whenever they made love, and now was now was no different. Lithuania drifted weightlessly in its embrace as hands worked deftly at his clothing, stripping away his shirt so that those same hands could roam freely over his chest and steadily down his body, a pair of soft, warm lips dropping butterfly kisses against his throat and then dipping down to tickle one pert nipple. He always tried to be quiet whenever they did this, because he wasn't sure if he could handle the idea of anyone else hearing him. He was quiet and placid by nature, and those unbridled noises of joy were meant for Poland, and Poland alone. Poland was kind and gentle when he allowed someone into his heart; Lithuania was untamed and wild, completely senseless.

The evening air was pleasantly cool against his skin, when finally the last layer of clothing was stripped away and he was suddenly exposed and completely vulnerable. Between his legs he could feel himself standing completely erect, his shaft searing hot save for a scant few beads of precum. The sky had changed as the sun dipped steadily lower and he could see a pallet of pink that transitioned to orange that transitioned to purple, a canvas with Poland's beautiful face etched in skin and bone and sinew hovering above him. He was flat on his back, his buttock being tickled and prickled by crushed wheat stalks and loose dirt. Poland's face disappeared from his view, and he did not need the sensation of a warm mouth closing around him to tell him where his lover had gone.

Lithuania's body grew warmer as the night air grew steadily colder, and the moon and the stars had popped out to play and left the sun to sleep by the time Poland entered him, a slow and sensual motion that brought with it only the very slightest sensation of discomfort. Instinctively he brought his arms up to lock them at Poland's back, his legs bending frog-position to allow for deeper entry.

"… Feliks…"

He wasn't sure if he whispered the name or screamed it, but his companion smiled in a way that crinkled up his nose and made his eyes sparkle brilliantly in the dark. Lithuania focused on that light, refusing to break from it, barely willing to blink, until the waves of desire became the waves of pleasure and then the waves of ecstasy and he rode them home.

Some hours later, they lay curled up together in Poland's plush bed. Lithuania's head still spun deliciously, his body heavy yet weightless, his eyes half-lidded with a contented sort of exhaustion.

"You, like, smell like sex and wheat. It's totes hot, Toris."

Poland seemed to have gained back all the energy expended in their lovemaking as he lay stretched out at Lithuania's side, propped up on one hip as he threaded his fingers through his partner's dark hair.

"Take pride in it, then, since it's your fault. And you call me a pain in your butt."

Poland laughed, and the noise was like the high, clear ringing of church bells on an afternoon breeze.

"You totes love it."

"Mmm. I love you."

"I love you too. Sleep, Toris. I'll be here when you wake up."

He smiled and closed his eyes, allowing the muscles in his neck to go slack, lolling his head to the left to press his forehead against the comforting strength of Poland's shoulder. He felt lips press softly at his temple, heard his partner murmur something he was too tired to process, and then slipped down into a deep, dreamless sleep.

Eve of the official dissolution of the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth

Warsaw, Poland

1791

"Poland? It's time. We need to meet with the others soon."

Poland closed his eyes against the onslaught of tears as he heard Lithuania speak, his voice soft and his tone flat and guarded. It was the first time since they had met that his lover had called him by his personification title and not his name, but he understood that in this case, there was no choice.

"I understand."

Even in saying that, he couldn't bring himself to tear his gaze from where it was directed out the window, staring beyond the wreckage that was Warsaw to where the sun was just starting to ascend over the horizon. There had been so much war, so much devastation and destruction that it felt as though everything they had struggled to build had merely been constructed with salt and sand. If that was the case, how had they not washed away on a rainy night, or been eroded into non-existence by the bitter cold winter winds? How could they come so far, only to fall so fast?

"Poland."

"Do not call me that. It is Feliks. It will always be Feliks, to you."

"… you know that isn't proper. The others will disapprove."

"I could personally care less what the other think and feel. They can have Poland, and they can have Lithuania. Both are just patches of land. They will never have Feliks and Toris."

He didn't know how to answer that, and so he finally decided that no answer was better than anything he attempted to conjure up. They stood together at the window, their eyes locked in the glass, Lithuania's body mere inches from Poland's, his hands hovering inches from his lover's waist, unable to close the short distance between them no matter how much he wanted to. In the hallway behind them, the echo of approaching footsteps grew progressively louder. Someone was approaching, and they were approaching quickly.

"You will have to, like, forgive me, Toris. For what I had to do."

"… what do you mean?"

"Come, Lithuania. It is time to get you settled into your new home, da?"

Lithuania's blood ran icy-cold in his veins when the footfalls came to an abrupt halt and the Russian man spoke, his friendly tone barely concealing the sinister intention behind his words. Poland's reflection shifted and Lithuania nearly balked back at the way his lover's lips curled back in a sneer and his grin eyes narrowed, flashing with an emotion that he could only place as pure, unadulterated hatred. Then, just as quickly as it was there, it was suddenly gone and Poland turned, giving Russia a loose and friendly grin.

"I'm not going anywhere with you, Russia. Not until the meeting has concluded and the decision has been made."

"About time you got here. I thought you had, like, changed your mind."

"… changed his mind?"

Lithuania turned to look at Russia, then back at Poland, who turned a decidedly wicked grin in his direction. The cold that had swept through his veins migrated to his stomach, leaving him feeling nauseated and weak-legged.

"There will be, like, no meeting, Liet. Russia and I have totes come to our own agreement. We filed the documentation this morning."

"… I don't understand…"

"I was, like, always the dominant party in our Commonwealth. Poland's Rule applies everywhere. Russia totes agreed to let me stay in my home if I, like, gave him you in exchange. Our Commonwealth lands will be, like, distributed to Russia, Prussia, and Austria. I will remain here under Russian rule, but I don't have to leave. I think it's a winning situation for everyone."

Realization flashed across Lithuania's face and he physically recoiled back, away from Poland and across the room to put sizable difference between both his lover and the man who now laid claim to him.

"… you sold me to save your own skin? You bartered my life to Russia?!"

For the briefest of moments, Poland's grin slipped and something painful took its place. It wasn't quite regret, but it wasn't quite shame, either. Then, just as quickly as it had dissipated, it was back, spreading so far across his face it threatened to touch his ears.

"I wish you could see your face right now, it is hilarious! But seriously, Lithy, don't take it personally. It's simply survival, nothing more. Russia likes you, and I like staying in my home. It's best for everyone this way."

Russia crossed the room towards Lithuania, and even though every nerve in his body screamed at him to turn and run, he found himself suddenly rooted to the spot. Even when Russia grabbed his arm in a vice-like grip, he found himself unable to fight back or even object. Like a helpless child, exhausted after an unexpected, violent tantrum, he allowed the larger man to lead him across the room towards the doorway. At the threshold, they paused as Russia made some comment to Poland about Lithuania's personal belongings, words he heard but did not register. All he could focus on was the smile plastered across Poland's face, bright and clear as though getting rid of the man he had shared a bed with for several hundred years was as easy as discarding an unwanted piece of trash. In the end, perhaps that was all he would ever be to him.

"Have a good time, Liet! Don't forget to write!"

"I will never, ever forgive you for this. Ever."

Lithuania felt that this would not be the last time he would cross paths with Poland. Time would prove him right. Time would also prove, however, that his promise to never forgive the man he loved would not hold nearly so firm.

TBC...