As always, I don't own Hetalia. If I did, there would be a lot more sex. X3
De-anon from the Kink Meme. The prompt: While watching America playing with the Obama children, Russia is reminded of happier times with the Romanov children. And then maybe Russia starts crying without realizing it and America sees him? Can lead to comfort sex or just just general comfort-fluff.
The crisp fall air hit Russia in a refreshing wave as he slipped away from the stuffy offices of the White House and escaped out a side exit, trusting his Boss to be able to handle the remainder of today's meeting. It seemed almost surreal that he and America's countries could put aside their differences so easily and break decades of tension, yet here they were.
It meant peace. And after so many years of war and bloodshed, Russia would really like nothing more than this (a world-wide union with Russia could still be accomplished diplomatically, after all).
He was... so tired of all the fighting.
Surrounded as they were by the bustle of the city, the manicured grounds of the White House lawn offered a pleasant natural reprieve from it all; colors blazed in all directions, from the puffy mums decorating the flowerbeds to the reds, oranges, and browns of crisp autumn leaves. Hands stuffed deep in his pockets, Russia wandered, ignoring the occasional security detail but for a short, acknowledging nod. He loved this transition of the seasons, in contrast to his home where summer turned to winter without much time in between. The more stable his mind became after the trauma of the past century, the more he relished the simple beauty around him.
The sharp laughter of children caught his attention, and Ivan rounded a corner to find himself face-to-face with two little girls playing fetch with a beautiful black dog. They stopped short, giggling shyly, before waving at the strange man in the long overcoat and returning to their game. Russia hid a smile beneath his scarf.
Leaning back against a broad tree trunk, the blonde stood quietly to watch the youngsters play, trying to ignore the flutter of similar memories threatening to surface.
* * *
"Malenkaya," the young male voice sing-songed in Russian from beneath the ash tree, "your mother won't be pleased if she sees you up there." He could hear the rustle of petticoats over bark and winced. There goes another dress.
Hanging precariously from a sturdy branch, the girl in question grinned down at him before sticking out her tongue in a manner most cheeky. "That's why you won't tell her that I'm up here, will you, Ivan?" Her smile shone as brightly as the afternoon sun, threatening to melt even the strongest of reserves. "Besides, I won't fall."
"That's what you said last time, and you were lucky that I was here to catch you." Pulling himself up on a branch of his own, Ivan stretched out like a cat, his feet swinging lazily. "Why don't you come down and play with your brother or sisters?"
The little girl pouted. "The Big Pair won't let me play with them. They're too old or some such nonsense. And mama has Maria watchin' the baby. I'm not allowed to play with him, anyway, since he's sick and stuff." The pout turned into a frown. "Why's he always sick, Ivan? It's not fair."
"I know, my angel, I know." Violet eyes briefly darkened at mention of the young boy's illness; he hated the stress it put on their family, especially on their mother. Tucking his hands beneath his chin, Ivan thought of a distraction. "Well, since I can't convince you to come down, would you like me to tell you a story?"
"Oh yes, yes!" She cheered, clapping her hands together (almost but not quite losing her balance, thank the Father). "You do tell the best stories!"
Ivan's face broke into a grin. "Would you like to hear more of the story of Vasilissa and Baba Yaga? I think we've gotten as far as the three riders-"
"No, I've heard that one so many times. I want something different. Oh! What about the one with the rusalka, the rogue, and the wizard boy?" The little girl's eyes glowed in excitement. "You promised me you'd tell me that one, Ivan! Oh please!"
The older boy groaned dramatically, throwing a protective arm over his face. "Fine, but don't forget that it's a secret. It's really a tale for older ears, and I don't want your papa to thrash me."
Her laughter made his heart swell with joy, and after thinking for a moment, he dropped his arm and began.
"Once, a very long time ago when the Rus' ruled and Kiev glowed like a jewel for the Slavic people, there lived a boy. This boy was an outcast to his people and dreamed and wished for better things, but those wishes tended to get him into a great deal of trouble... much like a girl I know."
"Hey!"
"Penny for your thoughts?"
Russia started from his reverie, surprised to find a familiar blonde sharing his tree; so caught up in his own world, he hadn't even noticed the other approach. His newfound friendship with the North American Nation must already be relaxing his normally tight defenses. Ivan's gaze caught the two young girls again as a Frisbee hurtled past, chased by a huge ball of canine fluff. "It is... nothing."
America's eyes searched the older Nation's face, his brow twisting in confusion. Whatever he found didn't seem worth words, and Ivan mostly ignored him as Alfred dug around the innumerable inner pockets of his bomber jacket, at least until a small package of tissues was pressed into his hands. Why on earth is he...? Oh. Fingertips brushed against his cheeks came away damp.
I'm crying?
His face burning, Russia tugged one of the tissues free and swiped at his face, thrusting the remainder back at Alfred with a mumbled "Spasiba." Nothing quite said 'superpower' like tearing up on the back lawn of your former rival's capital.
America shifted, trying to think of a way to break up the awkward tension. "Beautiful girls, aren't they? They're my Boss's kids, Malia and Natasha. Oh, but call her Sasha, else she might bite your finger off. I come out here sometimes to see what they're up to... they kinda break up all that grown-up monotony stuffed in the White House, you know?"
"Da," Russia replied simply, leftover emotions thickening his accent. "The children, they are good at that." Thoughts of Belarus and biting crept into the larger Nation's mind, and after a habitual shudder and a quick check of his surroundings to be sure they were sister-free, Russia offered America a small smile. "I once had a friend named Sasha. Very beautiful."
Raising an eyebrow at the unusual personal tidbit, Alfred shrugged. "Well, we're definitely a melting pot of culture, so it's no wonder we'd end up with a few of your Russki names. It makes things interesting." He scuffed at the dirt with his sneaker, watching Ivan from the corner of one ocean blue eye. "So... I hear we're starting fresh relationship-wise, huh? Maybe even becoming allies and all that?"
The older Nation nodded.
"Damn, that'll be new. It'll be weird getting used to having you around more often and not wanting to slug you." He mimed a punch, just in case the other didn't get his slang. "Not to say that that won't happen, but still. I've gotta be more careful with my allies, so I don't cause any 'international incidents' or anything."
"And I," Russia murmured, "will be sad to put aside my pipe in a place that is not America's face."
"Um, thanks. I think."
They stood together to watch the children play, the silence growing strangely comfortable as minutes passed. Neither was really sure what to make of their new association, but that was one of those things that they'd figure out. For now, they'd take it one step at a time.
Out of nowhere, a Frisbee smacked into Alfred, closely followed by the large dog who bowled him right over into the grass. He barely managed to untangled himself from all of the fur before two giggling girls tackled him back to the ground, crowing happily in their victory. "We got you, Al!"
"Yeah, you owe us ice cream now! You said we'd never be able to knock you over 'cause you're such a big hero!"
America's rich laughter boomed over the lawn. "I did say that, didn't I? Aww, shucks. Your dad's gonna beat me for getting you two all hyped up on sugar again." The light-hearted laughter slowly subsided, leaving Alfred spread eagle behind the White House with two kids flopped over his prone body.
Russia found it all rather amusing.
"Hey, Alfred," Malia asked, pointing shyly at the giant of a man still leaning against a tree. "Who's that?"
"Oh hey, I completely forgot. This is Ivan. He's a new, ah, friend of mine. Ivan, this here is Malia-" He poked the older girl square in the forehead, "-and this little imp is Sasha." The smaller girl stuck out her tongue when poked, earning her a smile. "They love puppies, ice cream, and Saturday morning cartoons, when they aren't pinning me to the ground."
"And stories!" Natasha quipped, the palm of her hand slapping America's chest with a surprisingly solid thud. "Hey, can you tell us a story? We need a break."
"Aww, guys... you know I'm no good at those things!" Alfred groaned. "What do I tell you? You've gotta ask Mr. Kirkland when he comes to visit if you wanna hear a good story."
"But I don't wanna hear a story about unicorns," Malia whined. "Isn't there something more exciting, like with ghosts or bad guys or something? You know... the kind of stuff daddy says we're too young for." Her dark eyes sparkled. "Pleeeeease?"
Russia listened to their banter thoughtfully, chin tucked in the sanctuary of his scarf. "Ame- er, Alfred." He coughed politely. "I... may have a story, if the girls, they do not mind my English. It is not the best, but it is not too bad, da?"
The expression that spread across Alfred's face was priceless. "Uh, it's a nice story, right? Safe for little girls? Because I really don't wanna piss off my Boss if he finds out they were told stories of death and destruction and very un-unicorn-like things."
"It is safe." Easing himself to the grass next to the others, Ivan's eyes lost focus for a moment, his mind drifting to a moment long past before the here and now coaxed him back to its embrace. "There is a ghost, and a wizard. I have not told it for very long time, but it should come back to me."
Natasha clapped, her face aglow with excitement. "All right, ghosts!"
Deep violet eyes heavy with something America couldn't decipher, Russia cleared his throat. "Once, a long time ago, there was a boy. The boy, he was always getting into trouble... much like friend Alfred..."
"Hey!"
As Ivan's soft voice slowly grew in confidence, Alfred hid a smile.
Author's Notes
-Malenkaya is a nickname in Russian meaning "little one". I left it in its original Russian since it was a pet name for the girl.
-Hopefully you figured it out, but the young girl in Russia's flashback is the Grand Duchess Anastasia, the famed daughter of the last Tsar of Russia.
-'The Big Pair' is a nickname for two of Anastasia's older sisters, Olga and Tatiana.
-Spasiba means "thank you" in Russian.
-'Vasilissa The Beautiful' is a well-known fairy tale in Russia.
-A rusalka is the ghost of a drowned girl or water nymph in Russian mythology.
-The story Russia is telling the girl is actually based off of one of my favorite fantasy novels called Rusalka by C.J. Cherryh. I highly recommend it!
-Natasha is a pet name for Natalia, which is Belarius's human name.
-Sasha is a diminutive form of Alexandra. The friend Russia refers to was Alexandra Romanova, the last Tsarina of Russia and mother of the children mentioned in Russia's flashback.
-The reason that America and Russia are actually together in Washington, DC and on relatively pleasant terms is due to the "reset" of relations under Barack Obama and Dmitry Medvedev. They got all buddy-buddy at the 2009 G20 summit in London and released a joint statement that promised a "fresh start" in U.S.-Russia relations. Hooray! What a great excuse to write more America/Russia.