Today is November 18th, the Latvian Independence Day, and I wrote this yesterday in preparation for it. My first ever Hetalia fic, so please be kind.
Yes, I know that I have been extremely inactive in submissions, but I have simply been under an extremely mayor writers block, and I didn't have enough time to write what with my school and all. I'm sorry guys, ok? Seriously.
Disclaimer: Neither Latvia, the character, nor Axis Powers Hetalia, the anime, belongs to me. It all belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya, the lucky bastard.
Mans draugs, mēs ar tevi
Dzīvojam Latvijā.
Mēs bieži nesaprotam,
Bet mums tā ir vienīgā.
It's true as they tend to say: time flies by.
It really does.
Less than a century ago, he became a country.
Less than a century ago, he was acknowledged.
And only two decades ago, he freed himself of the Soviet rule.
Two decades ago, he became independent.
Truly independent.
Yes, it is a short while for nations.
But for Latvia, for Raivis, it was like a millennia passed by in a pinch.
Here he was now, standing there, on the very edge of the Cape of Kolka, clad in his red uniform, the sharp sea-side wind whipping him, his clothes, his hair.
But he didn't seem to notice.
Tu mosties ar Latvijas rītu,
Ej gulēt kad saule riet.
Tu vari aizbraukt tālu,
Bet no Latvijas tev neaiziet.
Violet-blue eyes glued at the sea below and in front of him, he let his mind and thoughts wander as much as they wish.
93 years since he became Latvia.
20 years since he became independent.
For some, like England and America, those numbers wouldn't mean anything. A century wouldn't really mean anything to them either.
But for Latvia, for Raivis, these two numbers are important.
For Latvia, for Raivis, for the young, small Baltic country, they mean more than you'd possibly know.
700 gadus vācieši nāca,
Krievi, zviedri, lai nospiestu mūs.
Uz ceļiem,
Bet latvieši nesalūzt.
His thoughts turned on his own history.
Of how he came to be.
Of how he grew up.
How he lived through being partially controlled by Sweden's people, how he won against German oppression, and how he actually managed to survive Russia's rule.
It had long since occurred to him that he wouldn't have been able to withstand it all alone. After all, nations weren't only nations, they were people too.
No, Latvia wouldn't have been able to withstand it all alone. But his people were with him.
His people, his citizens.
His children.
Nesalūzt, jo mīl šo zemi.
Cer mājās atgriezties.
Satikt savus mīļos,
Rīgas lidostā nosēsties.
He, like all nations, shares countless of links with each and every one of them.
He, like all nations, feels when a child is born in his land, when a senior man or woman closes his or her eyes for the final time, when his children turn against each other, harm, and even kill each other.
But he, unlike some nations, cherishes those links more than anything in this world. And not because that makes him a nation, no, but because that means that he is, that he exists. That he is not only the Republic of Latvia, but that he is also Raivis Galante. That he is not only a nation, but a person too.
His children's belief, their love, is something he himself loves more than ever.
Uzliec roku man uz pleca,
Uzliec roku sev uz sirds.
Lai kur tu arī dotos,
Latviju tev neaizmirst.
Today, at this very moment, Latvia can safely say that he is unwell.
He hadn't felt well for a few years now.
More and more of his children are leaving his country.
Leaving him.
His economy isn't well either.
It's like a constant ache, literally.
An ache so deep, that it makes something much deeper than utter terror brew deep in his heart.
But each time this emotion tries to surface, he remembers that not all of his children have abandoned him.
That he is still loved, that people still believe in him, and that no matter where they'd go, they'd never be able to change the fact that they're Latvian.
And then, involuntary, his thoughts drift again, on times he's left behind.
Left behind, but not forgotten.
Tagad, par tiem grūtajiem laikiem,
Man ir sagatavots viens stāsts par to.
Lūdzu, ieklausieties.
Ieklausieties nepārtraucot.
He thinks of the times when his people were controlled so mercilessly as they were.
Slavery would be a good term to describe that.
He thinks of when his people were herded into cattle carts of a train, like the cattle those carts should originally transport. He thinks of when they were sent to the freezing, deadly lands of Siberia, to live in suffering and cold. Or of how they were taken to prison, to live the remainders of their lives in misery.
1946. gadā,
Skaistā rītā, pavasarī.
Atnāca ādas mēteļos vīri
Pie mana vectēva, un teica: "Jānāk līdzi."
He thinks of how he felt his children's agony, fear and sorrow. How he felt them dying, with the white snow as their graves.
He thinks of how he felt them slowly slipping away, in chilly, concrete cells, without even getting to say goodbye to their own families and friends.
Gandrīz veselu gadu
Viņš stūra namā mocijās.
Viņš teica: "Latvija būs brīva!"
Un no nekā viņš nebaidijās.
And then again, he felt his jumbled thoughts shifting further.
To the emotions and feelings he felt when he became free.
When his children returned home to their friends and family.
When he shed countless tears, which mingled with those of his people.
Tears of sadness, sorrow, relief, joy, happiness, pain, all mixed in one ongoing, continuous flow of salty liquid.
That day had marked something new, something enchanting.
That day marked not only his true independence, but the freedom of his people too.
Iznāca ārā, bija piedzimusi meita.
„Nebija no kā izdzīvot,"
Viņš teica: „Es to visu nevarētu
Savu Latviju nemīlot..."
Yes, times are hard nowadays.
For the whole world, not only him.
But standing here, on the edge of the Cape of Kolka, he can say, with absolute certainty, that as long as his people will believe in him… As long as they'll remember him, he will be a nation. He will be Latvia.
And most of all, he will be Raivis Galante.
Uzliec roku man uz pleca,
Uzliec roku sev uz sirds.
Lai kur tu arī dotos,
Latviju tev neaizmirst.
A nation.
A man.
A person.
Uzliec roku…
Man uz pleca…
Uzliec roku…
Sev uz sirds…