Wave the Red Banner
It had been rather unexpected. Her suddenly breaking away from him, forming her own nation. Finally free from the icy cage her brother had always kept her in. The young woman had decided to take her freedom at the end of the Great War, forming the small National Republic of Belarus under the guidance of the German powers.
Brother had not been happy.
Sister had been ecstatic.
And, slowly, she fought her way to being recognized by other nations.
Six months later, she found herself in trouble. Germany was beginning to withdraw, leaving her to fight to survive against the armies of the Polish and her dear brother. Her government collapsed, reformed, and was disbanded once again. And she found herself losing the possibility of being an independent nation.
On January 5th, 1919, brother's army had invaded her country, kicking out her government in an attempt to bring her back to him.
On the 27th of February, 1919, she became part of a Union once more.
It had been unexpected, she had to admit, forming this rushed marriage with the Lithuanian. She had been surprised when he had suggested the idea. But what could be more perfect than the two struggling nations banding together to fight against the powers that would wipe them from the map? And so their hands hand been bound and the rings exchanged, and their two countries became one.
"Litbel." She muttered to herself, letting the name run across her tongue experimentally. It was a nickname for their union, the official name being Lithuanian–Belorussian Soviet Socialist Republic, but a nice nickname none the less. Short. Simple. And what else was their marriage but simple? Two desperate people forming an alliance.
Still… there was something different about living under the same roof as her ally. How they would barely speak to each other- she exhausted from fighting against brother, he worn out from fighting against his own ex, Poland- yet let a quiet understanding fill the room. A quiet hope that they would keep fighting and struggling and maintaining this.
This silent understanding. The small embraces, the rushed, small kisses on her cheek, more for show than anything else. She did not think of him as more than an ally. Even if he did her every kindness, supporting her and her people in war and culture. Even if he did let her teach her people her own language... Even if he did let her practice her own customs, her own traditions, her own culture… Even if he promoted her independence as brother never had….
April 1919
He had come home more battered than usual, a tiredness in his eyes she couldn't quite fathom. He only gave her a smile as she took the bandages out, working on wrapping his wounds. "I'm sorry, Miss Natalia." Always so formal, even though he could claim her as his wife. "I lost… I lost Vilnius… Our capital will have to be moved…." Her hands tensed slightly as she continued to dress his wounds. It had to be painful, more painful than she could imagine, having one's capital, one's heart, practically ripped from your body by the tides of war.
"It's okay." She responded evenly. "Minsk still stands." His arms slowly wrapped around hers and she found herself embracing him, letting him cry into her chest with silent sobs. Her hands clutched at his back, unable to console him any more than this.
August 1919
Her capital had fallen. The agony was unbearable, a white hot pain pulsing intensely through her chest. She wiped the blood from her face, scrambling to find him, to seek guidance for what to do. "Toris!" She called, falling into his arms once she found him. Her tears still flowed down her face, her whole body shaking with pain. "Minsk… Minsk has fallen!" She clung to him tightly, and he hugged her back equally as tight. There were dark circles under his eyes, and she could tell his strength was failing him. He couldn't keep up this struggle. And neither could she.
"We can move to Smolensk… We can keep trying to drive them out." That tired, pitiful smile was just as painful as her missing heart.
August 25th, 1919
They were trapped. The Polish forces were closing in on them. This would be their final hour. They huddled together in the ruins of a building, waiting for the others to arrive and drag them apart. Hands clasped in desperation, bodies shivering as silent prayers were murmured for their futures.
He arrived, a slightly cruel smile on his face, crossing over to them. Toris moved in front of her, holding his arms out to protect her.
"Feliks."
"Toris. You know why I'm here, right? You belong to me Toris, not some silly little girl who thinks herself a country!"
They remained silent, glaring at each other for a moment. "I already have your heart. And her's. Like, quit denying the inevitable and come with me."
The Pole reached out and grabbed the Lithuanian, dragging him away from Belarus with ease. They were too tired to fight anymore, too tired to protest.
She watched the door slam as the Polish man dragged her husband away, leaving her in a ruined building in their capital, theirs no longer. True, some of her land was free. She could always move again. But she was slowly being devoured, pulled back into the darkness of Russia's grip.
Her hands reached up and wiped at her face, surprised by the tears she found there.
1920
She sat in the darkened room, shivering in her hard wooden chair. They had been negotiating for ages now, her brother and the Pole, and soon she would know of her fate. Her hands gripped at the edges of the chair as she stared at the door, trying not to cry.
It opened, her brother's form blocking out what little light streamed from the doorway. "Natalia~" He greeted her, a cold smile evident in his voice. "Welcome back home, little sister."
"What were the arrangements?" She asked bluntly, trying not to shake. She cared about her brother, but he scared her to no end….
"Well, I have some good news and some bad news…" He closed the door, flicking on the faded lights and listening to the hum of electricity in the blinking bulb. "Toris has been granted his independence." A clearly possessive look crossed his face. If he couldn't have the other nation, no one could.
"And the bad news?"
He only gave her another cold smile, carefully pulling a knife from inside his coat pocket. "Sister… You know… You deserve punishment for leaving me…." He was up in seconds, moving, whirling, pinning her to the table easily by her neck, his blade gleaming dangerously in the dim yellow of the light.
"And since Feliks and I cannot take what we want… Well… We both decided…Why not break the object that led Toris away from us?"
A wicked grin formed across his face, half mad. She could only stare at him, eyes wide, trying to understand just what had happened to her brother.
"Your lands will be cut in two. Half of you belongs to me, and half of you belongs to Poland. No more independence, sister. Not for you."
Her scream echoed into the dark hallways of the building, silenced quickly by the blade of a knife.
Historical Notes:
Lithuania and Belarus did indeed form a union for all of 7 Months in the year 1919.
Their flag was a banner of pure red, with no decorations, hence the title Wave the Red Banner.
Author's Notes:
Belarus may seem out of character, but it is my intention that she is thus.
Honestly, you can blame my headcanon involving her, which involves copious amounts of Stockholm Syndrome and masochistic, blind love after the Russification process from 1920-1941.
She does still love her brother, but she knows that he is capable of truly evil things, and she may not survive under his rule.
Between Russia, Poland, and Germany in WWII, it is amazing even a scrap of her language or culture could exist to this day...