A/N: This is my first little fanfiction in years. Mainly experimenting. I might add new "chapters" slowly. Just note that a lot of this will be out of order. This gives some backstory but takes place in October 1945. A majority of this story will take place just west of Narva, Estonia. I will be visiting Estonia in a month, so I might change the location to be more believable. Thank you for reading.
October 1945
Outside Narva, Estonia
"The Snow Came Early"
His name is Kalev Ilves. That is whom the Russians know. They know a soldier of the Red Army, a soldier who was capture by the Forest Brothers in June 1941. He was kept alive because he is Estonian. They pitied the young man. He was simply drafted, and he could not escape it like many others. The Germans were not as merciful. Kalev was imprisoned and scheduled to be sent out of Estonia to a concentration camp, but he swayed a young woman to help him. He was freed, and he ran. He escaped to Russia. He was welcomed back, admired for his determination.
His name is Eduard von Bock. That is his given name. That is whom the Germans know. They know an Estonian who escaped Estonia to train in Finland. They know he returned and became Estonia as a Forest Brother, where he hid among the birch trees with other resistance fighters. They know he was a killer. His reaction to the bloody coats of the Red Army were enough. His hands now tremble when handed a rifle. He aided the Germans after their occupation of Estonia. He translated papers, called out Bolsheviks, and spied on given targets. He was loyal to the Third Reich. A model Estonian. They sent him past the Narva line to sully the Red Army's plans.
His name is Ivan Braginski. He knew Kalev, but he discovered Eduard in October 1945. They had found more documents in a Hitlerist's closet. Eduard is Kalev. Eduard was a spy. Ivan's comrade was stabbing his back for nearly three years. Or maybe two. Was Eduard a Hitlerist still? An Estonian nationalist?
"I just wanted to have a normal life," was his answer. A string of saliva and blood dripped from his mouth. "I am loyal to the Soviet Union now."
"You lied to me for three years, my friend. You are lying to me now. You are loyal to yourself," was Ivan's reply, anger written on his face, but there was a glint of sadness in his eyes.
Eduard stares down and spits out some blood. It splatters on the ground and hits the sides of his worn shoes. "What you say is not wrong, but what will you do? I did what I had to do. All for my own peace."
The Russian glares. "For peace? We went to Klooga. Is that what peace looks like? You heard the numbers in Poland, and-"
"And you heard the numbers in Siberia. But you shrug it off. I will too. It does not have to affect us. I am not a spy for them. I am loyal to the Soviet Union. I am loyal to you," Eduard butts in. He does not ever interject, but his life depended on it this time. "Ivan, we never planted a thing this year. Come Spring, we could plant rye. As friends."
Ivan looks away and toward the window. The land is all white. The snow had come early this year. It hides the mud and dead leaves. Had it started during this confrontation? He stared in silence out the window for several minutes. "...Yes. We could. We should plant a pear tree as well."
The chimney would have to be cleaned soon. The fire that evening was strong. The paper kindled well when lit. They had a simple meal of cheese and buttered bread. It was all washed down with some kvass. It snowed heavily for the rest of the night.