The murmuring of nations thrived in the background as the scene enveloped into a lively display of people. The conference room was crowded, and an array of faces were illuminated by the midday sun filtering through the large, expensive-looking windows adorned on the cream walls. Hanging on said walls were a number of golden-framed paintings, boasting the many impressive feats of nations and important dates in history, glorified and proud. Probably nothing like what happened at all.
"Lies. History is recorded by the victor, after all." Belarus murmured, standing beside one of the pictures, glaring at the dignified face of the man as he stood beside his army. No one talks about how men were slaughtered in front of their friend, not of how some cried as they lay dying on the battlefield. She paused, furrowing her brows. "Well, that would be pretty depressing."
That wasn't the only depressing thought in the aloof countries' head. Among the fact that she lived in utter rejection of her brother and every other nation was thoroughly idiotic, of course. As she involuntarily listened to the laughter and talking of the people who stood behind her, dispersed, sat and standing around the large table behind her, she realized that she had nothing to be happy about. Her economy was probably weaker than Sealand's at the moment. Okay she wouldn't go that far. She would never admit that, of course. If a country mentioned her thinning cheeks or sick face, she would casually say, 'None of your business.' And sometimes maybe threaten to kill them if they asked again. If she got called out about the state of her dress, she would simply reply, 'I just finished burying a body.' And they'd soon back off.
Deception is a useful thing, and especially in this case, since she was already stereotyped as a cold blooded killer like her dear brother. Truth is, she wasn't. Maybe she was a bit awkward around people and she has a very limited set of expressions varying between murderous rage and mild discontent, but it didn't necessarily mean she wanted to kill everyone. Only most people. She sighed and realized she had been staring at the picture for longer than was considered normal, and tore her icy blue eyes away to look upon her peers.
Suddenly, she gasped as a figure appeared beside her, a smaller girl who stood without a word, her gaze directed solemnly at the picture she had just looked at. Her short bright blonde hair was adorned by a purple ribbon and her large green eyes seemed dreamy. Belarus instinctively identified the young adoptive sister of Switzerland and quickly looked away from her and surveyed the crowds for him, expecting him to come and take her away, scolding her under his breath without sparing a glance at Belarus. She wasn't going to lie, she was rather intimidated by the fiercely protective nation, and was fully aware of his famed missionary days in the past. There was no sign of him, not even the unnecessarily large gun he carried around, even indoors.
"Thousands of innocents died in the battle." Liechtenstein's quiet, elegant voice caught her attention, "And here they're celebrating."
Belarus gazed down at the well-dressed young girl and her expression, which was now hardened with displeasure. She noticed an undeniable gleam of wisdom in the blonde's eyes, and was taken aback. To her own surprise, she found she struggled to tell the girl to leave, or to say anything at all – she looked so focused.
She recalled the last time she had seen the small girl nation and remembered their last conversation. It was a few world meetings ago, and she had dragged herself there despite the lack of energy gnawing at her bones. Of course, she kept up appearances as much as she could, didn't show any weaknesses, maybe her stomach made objections a few times, but apart from that, she didn't give anything away. From the other side of the table, she noticed Liechtenstein had given her a few looks, and when Belarus returned them, the young girl smiled and nodded in a lady-like fashion. It was heaven sent when she found out that Italy had brought it upon himself to make a few batches of cookies for the conference, despite Germany's protests. When she got her hands on hers, it didn't last long, and afterwards she was convinced she was going to tackle another nation for custody of their food. When the end of the meeting was announced, she stood up quickly so that she would be one of the first to leave and as she strode through the door and started down the hallway, she felt a gentle touch on her back. Alarmed, she turned around and glared at whatever country had bumped into her. What she found was the small stature of the short-haired Liechtenstein, holding the most wonderful, precious thing in her hand – a cookie. Belarus's eyes then softened, and instead she looked upon the girl with inquiring eyes.
"Belarus." She started, seemingly still startled by her initial glare, "I hope you don't mind that I give you this, I can't have it." The girl didn't provide any explanation, but she held out the cookie to Belarus, and Belarus did not question it.
"That's kind of you." Belarus spoke plainly, gently taking it out of her hands and nodding, observing the girl still, with a slightly suspicious look.
Seemingly, the coldness of her response did not affect Liechtenstein and the nation smiled, quickly nodded and spoke, "Have a safe journey." Before walking off, leaving Belarus pretty confused, but extremely thankful. That one she did savour.
She was torn from her daydream, and in the quiet between the two, Liechtenstein looked away from the painting to examine Belarus, her gaze very direct and focused as she smiled and spoke, "You looked upset when you were looking at it, so I thought I'd see what was wrong."
She watched the smiling girl silently as her little hands messed with the frills of the dress seemingly timidly. Oh good grief I looked like I was crying over a painting. Impulsively she glared at the floor in self-annoyance, growling under her breath at her loss of composure.
Liechtenstein's body shrank slightly, her cheeks flushed pink, she brought her hands up in a sort of polite gesture, as quick as she could, "O-oh please excuse me if I was rude!" She whispered apologetically, giving a light bow to the completely oblivious Belarus.
The panicked tone of Liechtenstein caused Belarus to look back up and speak faster than she intended to, "N-no, it's fine!" Her eyes wide and fists clenched in attempt to convince the younger girl that she hadn't done anything wrong.
She had had to all planned out. After the misinterpretation had been overcome, she would then thank Liechtenstein for her concern and make an excuse to leave, vowing to never talk to another nation for the entire day if she could help it. Turns out, it didn't go as well as she'd hoped.
After the blonde lifted her head again, with her hands clasped together in relief and emerald eyes locked onto hers, Belarus froze. She didn't really want to leave, she decided, not while Liechtenstein was stood right there, smiling at her like an angel.
"I'm glad, I wouldn't want to make you even sadder!" She spoke, laughing lightly. Gently, she reached up, moved some of her short blonde hair behind her ear, and continued, "You know, you obviously don't like it here." Was it that obvious? "There's plenty of nice gardens outside where we could go, if you want. There aren't any loud, obnoxious people… or sad paintings."
Belarus stared at her, almost startled. She didn't know Liechtenstein was so confident. Her fists remained clenched as thoughts were buzzing through her head. Why would I ever go into a garden, there are only plants and insects. Besides I have better things I could be doing. She's wasting her time on me. Damn, this is stupid.
Sighing deeply, she knew she was making up excuses. It sounded lovely. Besides, she didn't really want to see that upset expression Liechtenstein had worn only a few minutes prior – it stuck to her mind like a disease. She straightened up and smoothed out a crease on her dress, before nodding, "Shall we?"
The patient Liechtenstein bowed again, smiling and, taking Belarus by surprise, gently grabbed the cuff of her sleeve and began leading her towards the door, "Don't worry, it'll cheer you up, I'm sure."
She stared at the back of the smaller girl's head, as she was being involuntarily tugged along by the sleeve, and as she attempted to stay composed she realized she wasn't as bothered as she thought she would be. In fact, she didn't mind at all.