This was the first fanfic I ever wrote. It was basically an extension of what happened in the manga, so it was more of a practice than anything.
It was dark, and cold, and he noticed there were six empty vodka bottles next to him. A small shard of sunlight slashed through the wall and across the floor next to him, illuminating the glass. Ivan sat up slowly, painfully; the recent strains on the nation were getting to him.
"Toris," he called hoarsely. The door opened and a harsh light streamed into the room. Ivan frowned. "Close the door," he ordered.
A rather jittery man, not really short but small compared to Ivan, quickly closed the door behind him. His moist blue eyes glittered nervously as he turned his head back and forth, shoulder length brown hair swinging about his face.
"Y-yes, Mr. Braginski?" he stuttered. Ivan simply smiled, his violet eyes narrowing into slits and successfully blowing away any courage Toris had collected.
Gesturing to the empty bottles, he said, "Toris, I would like some more vodka."
"But Mr. Braginski, you've already had so much. Your country's in bad shape and you really shouldn't—"
A glass bottle shattered on the wall next to Toris's head, resulting in a shriek from the startled Lithuanian. Drops of leftover alcohol stained the wall.
"You will get my drinks, da?" Ivan said, still smiling. His eyes were baggy and red, and sitting on the floor surrounded by darkness and cluttered stacks of paper, he looked fairly mad. Toris recognized this murderous look and scurried out of the room. Sighing, Ivan began thinking of his little predicament.
Damn that Napoleon, spreading nationalistic ideals everywhere. If that emperor hadn't been foolish enough to invade Russia, Ivan's soldiers wouldn't have had any reason to chase those Frenchmen and their allies through Europe. They got a taste of freedom. Ivan spat disgustedly.
Freedom.
Reforms.
Change.
He hated those words with a passion. He would have none of this—workers protesting, people demanding more rights, and no matter what he did he simply could not satisfy them.
"I've had enough," he said, standing up. He forced open the curtains to a large window, shedding light into the office. So much white.
White snow.
White sky.
White buildings.
Beautiful, pristine, perfect.
But there were nagging dots of darkness in the blanketing snow, swarming like ants. Shouting at him, nagging him, taunting him to do something.
Toris entered the room holding a tray with three bottles of vodka. "I'm sorry, Mr. Braginski, but these are the last ones," he muttered.
"Toris?"
He jumped, nearly causing the bottles to fall. "Yes, Mr. Braginski?"
"Why are they doing this?" Toris looked surprised, then noticed that the window was open. He gasped.
"Protestors! What are you going to do, Mr. Braginski?" Toris asked.
Ivan ignored his question. "Why aren't they happy? They're alive, aren't they? Why can't they be good and listen to me like you, Toris?" He placed his gloved hand on the window, wiping away the condensation.
Toris winced. He's going to get angry. He'll start throwing things and hitting me again, I should leave…
"Toris, I know what I must do," Ivan said, a tired look on his face. "My children are misbehaving. You know what I do to you when you transgress, da? Children who misbehave," he slowly picked up the rifle leaning against his desk, "must be punished." Toris swallowed hard, staring morosely at the mob of people outside.
"Russia…" he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
Ivan smiled. "Yes?"
Review if you want to, but I didn't like this one that much anyway. Thanks!