Notes: hinotorihime said something on tumblr about Lithuania/Liechtenstein and...
Lithuania is sitting holding his hands together tight in his lap when she comes downstairs, walking softly. She's dressed for the day in a white blouse with a bow and short sleeves tucked into light slacks, shoes with a low heel, a sweater draped around her neck. Her blonde hair, loose, shorter than his, just brushes her shoulders. He takes all this in, this and the tune she's humming, and the graceful lines of her bare arms, and the morning sunlight caught in her eyelashes, in an instant, and then quickly looks down.
"Oh," he says and continues before his brain engages, "it's you…"
"Good morning, Lithuania," Liechtenstein says with a smile, head a little tilted. "How are you today?"
"I'm sorry if I woke you …"
"No, you didn't! And I'm sorry, I should have been up, you haven't had breakfast–" She breezes past him. "Come on through. Switzy left so early this morning, even though it's Saturday… By the way, you don't have to wait for me if I'm a sleepyhead tomorrow, I'll show you where everything is. We have muesli, fruit, milk here; and bread and things to have on bread, this is nice… or cheeses and meat in the refrigerator if you'd like…? And," this last with a triumphant air: "coffee!"
Lithuania lets out an embarrassingly loud sigh of relief.
"You know, I just thought you might be a coffee man," Liechtenstein says with a giggle.
He laughs too, at himself. "Aren't we all these days? Thank you."
"–Please don't feel you have to keep me entertained…"
Out of the corner of his eye he sees the clock, and before he'd even arrived he was dreading when the time would come to leave, but right now only a half past nine panics him.
"…Or," she continues, "you can just sit quietly and read – you don't have to be all sociable while you're here, at all! I'd be quite happy. I'd probably read for a while at this time, anyway."
Has she been asked not to leave him alone?
"Well – maybe – Yes," he says, "maybe, I'll read for a little. Um…" He turns around half way to look at the bookshelf behind the sofa.
"Anything you like! Oh, well–"
"My spoken German's better, probably," Lithuania explains quickly, "but I'll be fine."
"Well, we have a dictionary–" She darts past him and snatches it off the shelf then offers it in her outstretched hands, "–here." And then they both have the same silly thought at the same time; her face splits into a grin: "I don't mean sit and read the dictionary!" and he laughs for the second time that morning.
Lithuania takes the dictionary and opens it solemnly. Liechtenstein after a moment perches on the sofa next to him.
"What are your favourite words?" she asks.
In the afternoon, while the light lasts, they take a walk outside, down into a valley where a lake smooth as glass contains a whole bright, upended other world.
They skip stones and pick flowers to press.
"I haven't done this in far too long," Liechtenstein comments. "Years!"
Far too long, Lithuania thinks. Decades. Centuries?
At supper: "Do you need a blanket?" Liechtenstein asks suddenly. "Are you cold?"
Lithuania blinks, returns to the room. "Oh, no, I'm fine."
A quick glance passes between brother and sister.
"You're shivering," Switzerland says bluntly.
Lithuania looks down. So he is. "Only my hands. It'll pass."
Later, they all three, Lithuania, Liechtenstein and Switzerland, sit reading by the fire, after Switzerland, with rushed abrupt motions, cleared out the old fire place, feeding the kindled flame with a single log of wood.
"Not really worth bothering just for the two of us," he says gruffly.
"Oh, we were just waiting for an excuse," Liechtenstein slips in, before Lithuania can apologize for putting them to the trouble and expense. "And I was getting cold!"
Liechtenstein sits in an armchair with her feet tucked up, nodding at intervals and turning pages forward and then back again. In the light of the lamps and the dying fire, she's gold, all gold, hair hazy about her face. Lithuania too has completely lost his place in his book.
"Time for everyone to go to bed," Switzerland announces. "Liechten, you're falling asleep in your chair."
He's glowering straight past her at Lithuania of course. Lithuania blushes, but pleasurably rather than otherwise, and affects a yawn to hide a smile.
"When you go back, can I write you? I'd like to have someone to write to."
"Do you really want to? I mean, I'd really like that. I expect it would be alright."
"Good. I will, then. Will you write back sometimes?"
"I'll try to, I promise."
He hopes she'll understand.
I hope this doesn't get held up in the post! I think I put enough stamps on it! (joke! the post office are sorting it out! I will send stamps another time, they are making some nice new ones! ) [ smiley face ]
[ drawing of a stick-figure Liechtenstein attempting to post the thick parcel into a postbox ] Longer letter to follow! But there are more words here. Don't open them all at once! [ smiley face ]
Lithuania unwraps the rest of the packing paper.
She's sent him the dictionary. Bookmarked at each of their favourite words. At each place, a dried flower.
He rations himself. One a week; then a month; then: as needed, when most needed.
Sometimes his letters back don't get through, but sometimes they do.
