Anastasia's Bones
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia or other stuff, kay?
The soldier's standing there had to hold the nation back. It took four of them to keep their own country from rushing forward from the execution line. Their country had never reacted like this before when they had ended the lives of several people before. Something was different this time, something was different. Their helpless nation writhed, screaming curses and other words as tears fell from his eyes, onto the snow below. He continued to scream and shout, pleading with them to not do it, telling them to let him go. Yet, they had orders from the top of the revolutionaries.
"Don't let Russia go."
So they stood there, two more having to join in holding the country back, another to press him back at the front. It was seven men, strong, large Russian men to keep this nation restrained. Only barely.
Loading his gun, Ivan looked up at the young girl that had come to him, a large smile on the Romanov child's face. She held something behind her back, a large, large smile there as she wandered up to him. The child was only eight, this darling girl with her gleaming childish eyes, and her smile. Her dress moved with her, shaking and bouncing as she did. It seemed there was no excitement to be contained.
"Ah, what is it?" He asked of the young girl, a kind smile to his features as the young Grand Duchess teetered around.
"B-before you go off, I made you something! S-so you don't forget me when you're on the battlefield with all the other brave Russians!" The girl said in her sweet little voice, a darling ray of sunshine.
"Ah? How could I forget you, sweet Anastasia?" He asked, a large smile coming to be even bigger! "You're the little mischievous imp, my darling child."
"But! Y-you're old and you know, there's so many people you've known! Y-you could forget me..."
His head tilted slightly at her worries of being forgotten. Ivan placed aside his gun for a moment, removing a glove to place a large hand on her head, ruffling the girl's soft hair. He chuckled even. "How could I ever forget my favorite girl?" He chuckled over at her foolishness. Yet, she didn't seem convinced.
"B-but..." Yet she was silenced as she was suddenly lifted from the ground and swung around in the air. A loud squeal, followed by several giggles came from her lips, she gripped tightly on a book of some sorts in one hand, and both arms outstretches, her delighted sounds heard all around the palace walls.
Finally, he set the girl down before he became too dizzy, the Romanov child twirled around once or twice, before she steadied herself. "Wheee!~"
Then, she haulted, getting back to buisness. The object in her hand was thrust up at the giant man before her, attempting to be all dignified and forceful, but she looked a bit like a stubborn, pouting thing.
"What's this? For me?"
"Yes! I drew them for you!"
So he took the little book, a hand-made thing. Of course, he opened it and flipped through the few pictures. Ah, it was all hand-done.
The little childish drawings. First, a picture of himself with a sunflower in hand, smiling. He had to kneel down and have the girl at his side, so she could give her explanation.
"T-that's you, with a sunflower!" "Ah, I see."
The page flipped, revealing the colorful shapes and lines of two figures. "A-and that's me and you!" "Ahhh."
The next page. Three figures! "T-that's you, and your sisters! B-belarus and Ukraine! See!" "Of course! It's very lovely."
Once more he turned the page, with several figures revealed to him! Ah, there were birds, trees, and grass. Not the mention a sky and sun, with plenty of sunflowers in this creation! "That's mama, papa, my sisters, my baby brother, you, an-and Lithuania! S-see! We're having a picnic!" "That sounds like fun, we should have one when the war's over, hm?" "Of course! B-but there's more!"
He was a little perplexed at the next, it looked like... a wedding?
"W-when I get older, I'm going to marry you Russia!" She clamped to his side, quite firm on this. Her stubborn, young, and pouting face was pointed up at him, nodding vigorously to support her view on this matter.
"What about all the Russian men that will do anything for your hand?"
The girl would not yield! "No! Only you Russia! I only want you!" Quite resolute.
"We'll see. You do have to get older first."
That seemed to please the girl, so her grip loosened. She helped him turn the page to the final drawing. "T-that's all of us, all of us living in a field of sunflowers, see?" She pointed at all the happy figures standing there, amidst a sea of the lovely blooms. "That's what's going to happen! Everyone, after this war! W-we're going to live with the sunflowers and we'll be married! And we'll have many many children!" She seemed to have had this all planned out already! What a well-thought-out thing!
"I see." He slowly closed the book, a smile on his face. "I'll make sure I'll keep this with me. I'll treasure it."
Anastasia was delighted at the prospect of her country (and future husband), delighting in something she had created, and to be treasuring it! It was a wonderful concept, of course! The absolute exalting exuberance that came to her face, if channeled into energy, could light the world forever.
Ivan's violet eyes went softer than before, his smile smaller, and kind. "Just wait here and be a good girl until I come home, yes?" He once more patted the young girl's head.
"I-I wanna kiss too! You're supposed to give a lady a kiss before you go off!" He wondered where she had heard this!
Yet, with those eyes, ah, the notorious puppy-eyes that all children possessed were turned on him! The great, powerful empire was nothing to this, so, he moved over. He pressed a kiss to her forehead after moving bushy bangs out of the way, pulling back to see she was satisfied, thankfully.
"Goodbye Russia!" She gave him a final hug before letting go, watching as the empire tucked away the book into his uniform coat, to protect it from all damage, hopefully. He would, he would treasure such a precious gift, made by the darling girl.
"I will see you as soon as I can, Anastasia!"
"O-okay...Ivan." He turned soft again, the little girl had begged him for his human name. She only used it on the most serious of occasions... Maybe the girl was aware of the gravity of the war he was going off to? He hoped not.
He turned, picking up the weapon he had placed aside before, starting to leave to go off towards that far-away war. He was surprised as two little arms ensnared his legs, sniffling the little girl did, holding him back.
"Ah?" She sniffled, wetting the back of his knees with her tears. "I-I'll miss you! Come back safe! Promise?" She whined through her tears.
"I promise, Anastasia. I'll come back home, safe and sound. We'll go on picnics, walks, rides! We'll go skating and swimming, we'll build sculptures and hills! I won't be gone too long, I promise I'll be fine."
So reluctant the child was to release him. She wiped her tears away and sniffled as he walked away, pausing at the doorway that lead to the exit. He looked behind at the girl that was trying her hardest to be brave, and not to dispair. "I will miss you, darling child."
"M-miss you too."
Indeed, he had treasured that sweet gift, at times during the bloody battles, he had only that to keep him from forgetting the wonderful things that were in life. Especially the hopes that waited at home, a darling little girl that he adored so. His little light-filled child, a sunbeam in the darkest cold that Siberia could ever thrust at him. He was glad that the child was safe as he fought, how could he not be thankful that at least one of his many children still loved him. Even as Russia, this great emptire, crumbled, he could have some sort of hope.
The soldiers saw why their nation had been so distraught, and struggled so hard against his human-binds that kept him from rushing forward. The Imperial family was marching out, led by the former Tsar, Nicholas II. His wife, four daughters, and son walked behind. They were instructed gruffly to line up, and, of course, they obeyed. Tears filled their eyes, the fear was evident as they shook. Guns all raised and pointed at them. More than one of the group cried in fear, knowing it was their end.
Orders were given, the group, this fire-squad was in position. Three more had to hold the Russian back, then another two. It was taking so many of those there to hold this nation, who was using all the force he could to save his precious Imperial family. He pushed, and pulled, determined to get to them, to save them from this end.
Unfortunately, he hadn't gone far as the command was given, and the guns fired.
It was almost instantaneous, each of that family dropping to the ground. Blood spattered and stained the snow all around. They were dead before they hit the frozen blanket below. The legacy, the dynasty... It was gone.
The firing squad was leaving, another coming out to take care of the bodies. Russia had broke free by this time, and ran to the corpses as they lay, picking up the one that he was by, kneeling in that red snow as he cradled the dead form of Anastasia in his arms.
Very few overheard the words he spoke, the chorus of 'no's, the 'please's, and the 'God, oh God', he continues to spew from his lips. Tears, more and more tears fell and froze on their nation's lips. He cradled that body to him, shaking his head in disbelief.
A man approached the nation, calmly putting a hand on Russia's shoulder. The nation looked up, broken, and defeated.
"Give her to us, we need to... finish it." He was surprised at the 'no' he recieved. The man changed his tactics, at least, after the Russian said, "I want to bury her, at least."
He cleared his throat. "...What do I in--"
"I-It will be an unmarked grave, no one will know! Please, just... l-let me give her a proper burial..." They could hear the strained note, the begging.
This evil man saw an opportunity. "If so, if I allow this.. You will, from now on, fully support the Revolution? The rise of a new era for you, my country?"
"...Yes..."
"Then... Now, now you're the Soviet Union."
He nodded. A regretful glance was given to the others, but he lifted the one he had in his arms the entire time, going off into the distance, slowly. It was like he was a corpse himself, just like the darling girl in his arms.
No one knows where he buried the body, and no one really bothered to find out. The other corpses were taken and burned, historians would, later on, report that one was missing. That either Anastasia, or her older sister, had escaped. Only those that had been there that day knew the truth, they knew that Russia had taken the body of his darling off, and buried her in some unmarked grave deep in Russian lands.
When Russia got home that night, covered in blood, dirt, and ice. Lithuania rushed forward, noticing and alarmed that his captor was covered in all of this. He attempted to get a word out of question, but he was cut off by a gesture, followed by this large nation wiping his eyes. His voice shook as he spoke.
"The Revolution... I... I support it, Lithuania."
There was shock, he had known more than anyone at Russia's hate for bad, revolting children! He was quite shocked at this sudden change! "W-why?"
Tears started anew, the nation just turned his gaze away, to a book that stood alone, open to a happy picture of a field of sunflowers, with his dearest, favorite family standing all around. His precious Romanovs, all drawn by a girl when she was eight years old. Lithuania turned to look at it too, and by those glistening streaks, he knew.
"...They're...gone?"
He only got a nod.
Years later, with the Soviet Union as a dominating power of the world, an enemy to the United States, and they were now locked within a Cold War. Lithuania had read a report about the Romanovs' bodies being found, at least their bones that had been burned, and came to find Russia, to ask. Which, and if he knew what happened.
"Anastasia's bones? They're...somewhere where no one can hurt them, where she can rest in peace, Lithuania..."
Charan-Amaya: I'm not really sure why, but, I wrote this in one sitting, and, well, as you can see I was crying the entire time. I still can't stop crying. This, this is just a one-shot... I hope you are as touched and moved as I.
Read, Review. Please, get a tissue.