Ivan opened his study door with a heavy sigh. Lifting his head, he felt a small smile tug at his lips finding a roaring fire in the fireplace. The light filled the room enough for Ivan to see his work desk in front of the full length windows on the far left of the study, the overstuffed chair in front of the fire, a record player on a side table to the right of the chair, and bookshelves covering the walls where ever there wasn't a window, the fireplace, or the door.
Not bothering to turn on the lights, Ivan slowly walked into his study shutting the door behind him. Walking over to one of the bookshelves, he ran his fingers over the many records that filled its depths. Ivan liked records the best, there was something wholesome, quaint and all together fulfilling when you listened to a record.
Pausing, Ivan gently pulled a record from the shelf and held it gingerly between his hands. It had a plain cardboard cover with the title written in sharpie, a homemade record. Ivan could have read the sharpie if he had tilted the record toward the fire, but Ivan already knew the song on the record.
'Hallelujah."
Smiling fondly at the record Ivan walked over to the chair and sat down never taking his eyes off the record. Leaning over the arm rest, Ivan gently pulled the record from its casing and set it on the record player. Pressing the necessary buttons and moving the needle into place, Ivan released another sigh and let his head fall backwards as his body settled back into the chair closing his eyes for a moment.
It had been a long day, some rebellion or another cropping up, power hungry countries trying to take over what was his, countries that just couldn't leave him alone namely Italy, the list could go on for hours. Ivan took a deep breath and slowly released it forcing himself to relax.
After a long moment of static, sound began to flow from the record player filling the silent study with a guitar plucking out a few single notes followed by a cord. As it repeated the notes and cord the tune took on a longing melody almost nostalgic, it fit Ivan's mood. It has been 815 years since that day.
The sun had been shining brightly that 4th of July. Ivan had been hot, not used to the weather being above 70 degrees like in Mother Russia.
He had taken refuge under a giant oak tree that had some sort of historical significance to his host. Ivan remembered looking toward said host, debating what sort of creeper tactic he would use to scare the man for forcing Ivan into this unbearable heat.
Yet all thoughts of revenge were blown away when Ivan's violet eyes had landed on Alfred F. Jones. The sun had hit the young country's blond hair and seemed to ricochet off it in all directions giving the man an unearthly feel as though he were the sunshine himself. His blue eyes had danced in excitement and childish joy behind his ever present eye glasses. A deep heartfelt laugh had passed his pale lips which never seemed to do anything but smile idiotically.
The t-shirt Alfred had worn fit snuggly to his lean frame but still had left Ivan room to imagine the sculpted body underneath. Simple cargo shorts clung to Alfred's slim waist before hanging loosely around his legs and flip flops had completed the summer look.
Why Ivan hadn't noticed this man's beauty before then was still a mystery to him. Sure Ivan had always found the American attractive, especially since the Cold War when Ivan's soul job had been to spy on Alfred. Ivan even had a soft spot for the childish country, seeing as he was melting in this heat instead of being comfortable in Mother Russia.
Yet it wasn't until that moment Ivan had truly seen how beautiful Alfred really was. The shock of the sudden realization left Ivan's memory fuzzy over how they had got onto the topic, but they had and Alfred began strumming the same cords being played on the record. In his mind Ivan could see Alfred opening his mouth to sing...
I heard there was a secret chord
That David played and it pleased the Lord
But you don't really care for music, do you?
Well it goes like this the fourth, the fifth
The minor fall and the major lift
The baffled king composing Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Ivan took a deep breath as Alfred's voice surrounded him, filling every corner of the study like only the American could. Ivan's right hand began to absent mindedly fiddle with the ring on his left ring finger. That was the day Ivan had fallen head over heels in love with Alfred. According to Alfred, he had been in love with the Russian for years and was just waiting for Ivan.
Ivan couldn't help chuckling while he thought, 'Arrogant son of a bitch.'
Ivan opened his eyes and began staring into the fire, his eyes soon glazing over as he remembered Alfred's proposal. The blond couldn't wait another day and said that Ivan was taking too long. Ivan had planned on proposing to Alfred that same night, which he still did much to Alfred's delight and slight embarrassment.
Shaking his head at the memory Ivan let his mind travel to the wedding, then the reception and then to the honeymoon...
Well your faith was strong but you needed proof
You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you
She tied you to her kitchen chair
She broke your throne and she cut your hair
And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
God above the honeymoon. Ivan moaned closing his eyes once again as pleasure shot through his body. It was the first time he had seen Alfred's fully naked body. For all of his bluster, Alfred had been a blushing bride in all sense of the phrase.
Ivan could almost once again hear Alfred whining from the bathroom about how he was not blushing or a bride, he had only locked himself in the bathroom because he wanted a shower before their wedding night.
Yet when Ivan finally picked the lock on the door, he had found Alfred blushing and covering his privet regions. Ivan had almost cum at the sight of his lover naked with the moon shining through the floor length windows making his skin glow. Even now Ivan could cum simply by dwelling on the imagine, beautiful.
Alfred's beauty never ceased even as the years wore on and new scars appeared, Ivan still found him beautiful... and strong.
Ivan smiled wickedly as he pulled a work order out of his coat pocket. One work order for his public throne to remove several dents and one large crack down the backrest. Bending forward Ivan tossed the paper into the fire, he watched the edges turn brown and crumple.
He would never fix his throne; he would never remove the reminder of how much Ivan needed Alfred. Sitting back Ivan continued to watch the paper burn intensely for the brief period until all of it was consumed and the fire died back down. Just like Alfred's temper in the beginning when Ivan had tried to block Alfred from Russia's problems. Ivan had been so used to taking care of his country alone his pride won't let him ask for help.
Yet all Ivan accomplished in doing so was almost destroying his country and his relationship with Alfred. Yet the American was a persistent, steadfast and loyal bastard. Even though Alfred had shouted, 'Good Riddance' as Ivan stormed away from their house, Alfred sought out Ivan worried.
Alfred had found Ivan slumped in his throne ready to give up on it all. With a few insulting jabs mixed with coaxing words and a solid promise to forever stay by his side, Alfred had restored Ivan's confidence and hope. Even though Alfred never knew it, the minute he had walked into the Ivan's throne room sunlight had filled the room. When Alfred kissed him after his promise, Ivan realized how much he had missed the American in the few short hours he had been away.
As they passionately made love on Ivan's throne, Alfred had accidently gripped the back too hard cracking it and leaving indents of his fingers. Ivan knew words of love and gratitude had slipped from his lips repeatedly that night, Alfred's sunshine pulling the words from him like the sun pulls the spring flowers from the ground. After that night Ivan never wanted to be without Alfred...
Baby, I've been here before
I've seen this room and I've walked this floor
You know, I used to live alone before, I knew you
And I've seen your flag on the marble arch
And Love is not a victory march
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
Yet things hadn't changed overnight. No, both countries were a little too proud and very independent. The first few years had been rough...to say the least. Ivan propped his elbow on the arm rest and leaned his cheek into his hand. His eyes became brooding and the smile dropped from his lips.
They had fought constantly those first few years, neither ever really winning the argument which had only seemed to fuel them on into their next fight. They had fought over the stupidest things, whose furniture did they put in the house, what holidays did they celebrate, who were each other's allies, where would they put the canned goods in the cabinets, the list went on and on.
Most days it looked like they weren't even married and the Cold War had begun all over again. Some countries had tried to take advantage of the supposed break up. Ivan scowled in his mind strangling the dam frog yet again for attempting to seduce Alfred.
Slowly the scowl slipped and Ivan's face went back to one of pleasant reminiscing. Even though they had to rebuild the house several hundred times, eventually they had figured it out. The real fight was who was in charge of the house and their relationship. Alfred had won the individual fights, but in the end Ivan was the head of the house.
Ivan felt the fond smile steal across his face again, as he remembered Alfred decorating the house for every single holiday. Even Ivan's holidays, which Ivan had no decorations for since he merely observed never celebrated, Alfred had somehow found things that matched the holiday and decorated the house. Alfred always put his heart and soul into everything...
Well, there was a time when you let me know
What's really going on below
But now you never show that to me, do you?
But remember, when I moved in you
And the holy dove was moving too
And every breath, we drew was Hallelujah
Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah
After so long in isolation it had been strange at first to share a bed with someone constantly. The honeymoon was one thing, but until after they had determined dominance, Ivan had made a comfortable indent in the couch.
Ivan didn't know if there were boundaries or if it got annoying to be cuddled constantly. For nights Ivan would lay awake debating if it was ok to pull Alfred close to him or did they need to have sex first afraid that the wrong choice would result in another year of fighting.
Ivan began to lose himself in the cold darkness that was Mother Russia, only doing the things Alfred directly said were ok. Ivan winced remembering the blue balls that had resulted from holding back. Yet before Ivan could lose himself, or permanently harm himself, Alfred came like a ray of sunshine dispersing all of Ivan's fears.
That night Ivan took Alfred as though it was their first time all over again. Ivan had kissed every inch of pale skin, taking extra time on every scar that marred the perfect body. Ivan pleasured his ray sunshine until Alfred had been on the verge of begging Ivan to take him.
Ivan took him before Alfred could ask, not wanting to break the perfect moment. The only noise that escaped them were their moans of pleasure and pants of exertion. Yet in their hearts, they had heard the other calling their name over and over again as though reverently praising the other for loving them. Rejoicing in their love...
Maybe there's a God above
But, all I've ever learned from love
Was how to shoot somebody who outdrew you?
And it's not a cry, that you hear at night
It's not somebody, who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah
A love that lasted and grew for another 800 years. Ivan drew a shaky breath and he knew his bottom lip was beginning to quiver. A love that was unconditional and pure...like a ray of sunshine. It had World War III, and Ivan had taken the front lines. All of the countries on their side had been too weak to go up against the Asian continent themselves, so it was agreed they would back Ivan.
Too late their forces realized that Ivan would have been overpowered by the sheer numbers the Asian's had. They had been ordered to retreat and regroup, but Ivan knew the only way the others would get away is if he held the front.
He would have lived, since he wasn't mortal, but when they took his heart Ivan knew they would have taken his lands. It was the rules in war between countries, whoever took the heart of another country could demand whatever they wished from that country. Russia was big and powerful, to break up Mother Russia could change the whole world. No longer would Ivan be a ruler, he would be ruled.
Behind him he could hear Alfred yelling for him, Russia continued to fight knowing that however this ended Alfred would be safe. The boss of the United States had ordered Alfred to stay completely out of the fight and only provide Russia with whatever resources they needed.
Ivan knew that if he had left right then, no one would have blamed him. He could have run away to protect his lands and his family, but through the years Ivan had changed...Russia had changed. With the birth of their two children, Ivan wanted them to grow up respectable, kind, and true to themselves. For that to happen Ivan had to lead by example.
Running away was not an option for Ivan, and the Russian had glared defiantly watching the trigger pull backwards.
Just as the bullet was on its way to stop his heart, something blocked Ivan's vision. Ivan had watched in shock as Alfred fire his two pistols like the American he was.
It was over in an instant, all of the Asians defeated and Ivan's heart still beat in his chest until Alfred flashed a pained smile over his shoulder. Ivan's body began to shake as he remembered Alfred collapsing. Ivan had tried to save him but when Alfred had entered the battle he had disobeyed his boss's orders. Turning his back on his country meant Alfred had turned his back on his immortality.
Never had a cry resounded over a battle field as Ivan's did for Alfred. No one needed to see Ivan clutching Alfred's cold body or his dead expression as his allies finally forced him to let go. The single cry had described the darkness that had taken over Ivan's soul.
Hallelujah
A funeral had been held shortly after, a grand one. One fit for a hero, because that is what Alfred F. Jones had been a god damn hero. Their son was appointed the new America, but it was merely a formality. Ivan over saw all of the United State's businesses having took Alfred's heart. Even though Alfred had given up his immortality, he had still been America and the rules had to be honored.
Hallelujah
It was a long month after the funeral. On the outside Ivan functioned the best he could. Pouring all of his time into his children and repairing the damage to his two beloved countries. Yet at night when Ivan was completely alone, he mourned the loss of his sunshine, cursed him for taking the bullet meant for Ivan, honored him by watching all of Alfred's favorite movies.
Hallelujah
It had been the TV show Firefly that final gave Ivan peace. "If you can't walk you crawl and if you can't crawl you find someone to carry you."
Alfred had carried Ivan when he was at his lowest, had made him the strong country that he was now. If it weren't for Alfred being in Ivan's life, Ivan would have sat in the back during WWIII. Yet Ivan had the courage to fight in the front lines for those who were behind him. Earning the respect and true friendship of his fellow countries, something Ivan thought he would never earn.
It was Alfred's gift of baring Ivan their two children that gave Ivan the strength to push on after Alfred's death. The strength in Samuel's laugh, the rays of sunlight cascading past Rebekka's shoulders. Alfred may have been physically gone but as he promised he never left Ivan. Hallelujah for Alfred F. Jones coming into Ivan's life.
"Hallelujah" Ivan whispered the last 'Hallelujah' along with the record and the room slowly fell into silence. Two tears slipped down Ivan's cheeks, and more threatened to push pasted his closed eyes.
"Hey Dad?"
Ivan bowed his head so his bangs covered his eyes and turned so his ear pointed to the door. "Da?"
A young man with silver hair and blue eyes stood halfway through the door. He looked just like Ivan save for the eyes. Although he frowned slightly, it was obviously more in confusion than true worry as Samuel's eyes danced in mischief. "Why are you here sitting all creeper like in the dark?"
Ivan released a smile chuckle at the brash youth. "Just listening to some records, Samuel."
"Records?" Samuel gave his father a dead look. "Seriously that is so old fashion. I got you an iPod, why don't you use it."
Ivan let out a laugh though he still did not show his face, not wanting the youth to see the tears that had escaped when Ivan had laughed. "Because I like them that's why."
"Old man" the boy muttered then suddenly perked up. "I'm about to go and spread democracy to some miniscule countries by completely wiping out their government and then forcing my way of life upon them. Wanna come watch?"
Ivan nodded his head ,"I will meet you down stair once I put my record away."
"Awesome." Samuel started to leave but quickly stuck his head back in. "Hey dad, would it be weird if I told you I thought I heard mom singing a little bit ago?"
Ivan shook his head, "No son. I hear your mother all the time."
Samuel hummed thoughtfully for a moment before leaving. Turning to the record player, Ivan picked up the record and slide it back into its case. Just as the record nestled into place, two slender arms wrapped around Ivan's neck.
"Brother is a fool to believe that you were just listening to any old record." The female's voice was quiet and Ivan could feel a dark aura starting to emit from the girl.
Patting her arms Ivan whispered, "He is just like his mother. Neither could handle emotional situations very well." Looking up Ivan looked into a mirror of his own violet eyes which was the only physical similarity his daughter had to him. No Rebekka looked like Alfred, if Alfred had been a girl especially with the halo of sunshine falling from her head.
Ivan smiled and gently twirled a lock of his daughter's hair. Rebekka smiled back at him, then grew serious for a moment. "Father...do you ever hear mother laughing?"
Ivan nodded his head before cupping Rebekka's cheek and pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Now let us go watch your brother. We will show him that the way to rule is through absolute and total control by crushing the countries hopes and dreams. Da?"
Rebekka's eyes lit up in excitement and she released her father. Ivan stood up listening to her skip giddily toward the door. Putting the record away Ivan paused with his finger still on the record. "Happy Anniversary, Alfred." Ivan whispered quietly.
Turning Ivan hurried to catch up to his children, already feeling sunshine filling his heart. As Ivan put his hand on the door handle he felt two arms wrap around his waist. And although the words were muffled by the crook of his neck, Ivan heard them. "Happy Anniversary, Ivan."