De-anon from the kink meme.
Warnings: Objectification, Fem!Nations (Russia, Latvia, Estonia, Lithuania)
Latvia can feel her muscles trembling, her arm aching as she fights to keep it hovering over the teapot.
Russia has had enough tea parties for her to know that any movement will be punished. Toys don't move on their own.
But toys don't have to fend off the tears that burn her eyes, tears of fear and pain that give way to tears of relief as Russia gently grasps her hand and moves it down, guiding her fingers to lift a lemon cookie from the plate in front of her up to her mouth.
Latvia hates lemon.
But she has no choice, with Russia's hand holding her at the base of her jaw. She's not even allowed to open her mouth without Russia's guidance, so very aware of Russia's warmth at her side and the hands that move her like a puppet. Coaxing her to take a bite, and only when her mouth is closed does Russia stroke her jaw in a silent command to chew, beaming so proudly.
It could be worse – Latvia knows, chewing mechanically on the tidbit. At least this time, Russia's letting her chew by herself.
She swallows when Russia pulls her hand away.
"My goodness," Russia exclaims in a high-pitched falsetto that sounds nothing like Latvia. "Miss Litva, did you make these yourself?"
Latvia's left holding the rest of the cookie just in front of her mouth, as Russia turns to Lithuania, making her fan her face with a gloved hand as though she's embarrassed..
"Why, yes." Russia's Lithuania voice is just as fake, but lower and less obvious. "Do you like them, Miss Latvii?"
Across the table from Latvia, Lithuania's eyes are wide, silently comforting as they meet her gaze. It looks strange, though, that familiar look coming from the painted doll that looks nothing like Lithuania. Her hair is curled into spring-like locks that bounce as Russia moves her; and her face is powder-pale with brightly painted lips that don't express any emotion whatsoever. It would be pretty, except that Lithuania looks most beautiful when she is smiling and dirty with her hair tied up in a loose ponytail and a few loose strands falling over her eyes.
Latvia knows she looks just as ridiculous, with her hair pulled into pigtails that drape over her shoulders; and the powder that itches and makes her want to sneeze and the paint on her lips that she is terrified of smearing, but at least she's still small enough that Russia lets her wear the childish summer dress, rather than the old-fashioned dresses covered in lace and frills that the others were forced into.
Russia moves Latvia's head in an enthusiastic nod that hurts her neck a little, before turning and having Lithuania offer the plate of cookies to Estonia. "Miss Eesti?"
Estonia is the only one who can pull off the look Russia gives her, with her hair wound into a tight bun except for two carefully curled strands framing her face, and the soft pink of her lips that matches the rouge on her cheeks. She is also the lucky one, with the coveted seat across from Russia where she's just a little too far away to be played with beyond the manipulation of her arms and hands (arched out in front of her with her fingers intertwined, so Russia doesn't have to stretch too much to reach them). Russia makes sure to include her, but she's allowed to move on her own when Russia doesn't want to stand up and come around the table to move her (not without permission, of course, but it's still better than having Russia treating you like a poseable toy).
Without her glasses, though, Estonia is all but blind; not seeing the hand that Russia grabs her with until her hand is being led to the cookie plate. Latvia catches the restrained jump that shivers down Estonia's arm, the panic that flashes through her eyes for a split second before vanishing; and can't help but wish she could be that strong.