Chapter 1: The Daughter Not There

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My daughter when you were small

How I wanted to eat you.

Cast off flesh of my flesh

I wanted to keep you in me,

Digest my fear of losing you as I swallowed

You whole, plumped and roasted.

Can you forgive the way I fretted over the oven

And took the measure of your

Wrists with my worried fingers?

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Ivan had never been one to allow anxiety to invade his mind, but tonight, finding himself increasingly distracted by household duties as he urgently scoured the silent gardens outside his home for any sign of her, the embodiment of Russia felt he was on the brink of giving in.

It had been over an hour since his eldest daughter, Galicia Volhynia, was meant to arrive from Poland's house as part of her monthly visits.

No shadow moved outside in the steady gloom of nightfall enclosing the land in its cold, iron grip.

Chewing at his lip, Ivan ventured to shove the gnawing pressure in the pit of his stomach away by busying himself with the dishes. A pointless task, given the sheer scale of the stacks of dirty china-ware looming on both sides of the sink...but at this point anything would suffice to quench his steady panic.

She will be back any minute, he told himself firmly as he scrubbed away, Poland has kept her up with some ridiculous errand again, no doubt.

Forcing himself to focus solely on rubbing the plates spotless, stirring up the mixture of soap and water until his hands were lost in the procuring foam, Ivan recalled the day he, shortly after his collapse at the hands of his own warring rulers, had birthed his eldest child, who had subsequently settled in the region of the two south-west states of Galicia and Volhynia, thus creating both her name and her identity.

So separate and distant from his...

That day, when the sky was spattered with the red of fallen comrades, and a dark shadow cast from the onslaught of thunderclouds shattering the once-blissful blue into a horror of bleeding wounds and black bruises that so covered Ivan's beaten body as he lay broken on the frozen earth; his eldest daughter walked free from his embrace – terrified and desperate to escape the carnage that had befallen them.

Ivan had let her go. He had neither the power nor the will to hold her back. He would have been a tyrant to do otherwise, given the circumstances. He was an independent nation was utterly destroyed, and needed to rely on what little power he still possessed to raise himself to the glory he had wished for all his life. Meanwhile, she would find happiness, and this consolation had spurred him onwards to his own destiny.

But this happiness was short-lived. His daughter's ruler, Danylo Romanovych, had been forced to pledge allegiance to the ruthless Mongol leader, Batu Khan, of the Golden Horde, and consequently became his loyal dog, just as Russia himself had. Communication between father and daughter had thus decreased to mere snatches of well-wishing and desperate glances, but nothing more. Sometimes they would go for years without so much as glimpsing each-other's faces.

Unfortunately, that was not the end of Galicia's troubles. Romanovych's attempts to establish military alliances with European countries in order to escape the Mongol oppression was met with failure, and eventually the entire country declined, was overtaken by Lithuania (as well as himself at this point), and was finally divided between the kingdoms of both Lithuania and Poland, eventually becoming fully dissolved within Poland in 1569. Stripped of her power, individuality and freedom, Galicia could not resist.

Ivan still winced in agony as he relived his daughter's screams of wild despair and terror as Poland dragged her away, threw her onto his horse, and raced into the dark night, Galicia's cries ringing out raw and heart-breaking in the air long after she had disappeared from his sight.

In order to avoid the wrath of Russia, Poland had agreed that the two could meet once every four months for a duration of three weeks, before she would dutifully return to his side once again.

It was too short a time. Those mere weeks, though infinitely precious, were nothing compared to the days that had been robbed from them all those years, and those that strove to come. Ivan had been driven nearly over the edge with frustration of how quickly the days flitted by, no matter how dearly he held them, or how carefully he spent them, and had to be placated that this was the only option he could take without waging another senseless war of vengeance and spite on the world, the savageness of which could more than likely destroy the beloved daughter he had been trying to obtain.

Ivan sighed heavily and glanced almost dazedly at the ornate wooden clock high up on the wall in front of him.

His soft lavender eyes widened. No way. It couldn't be. Nine o'clock already? It was a full two hours over the time his daughter would normally arrive. He shook his head, disbelieving, and ventured to scour every clock in the house to make sure what he had just seen was a lie.

But he was disappointed; they all affirmed the first clock's proclamation, and served to tighten the knots congealing in his innards.

Ivan paused, and breathed deeply. Calm. Calm down, you are Russia for goodness' sake—composure is the key to success.

Having regained his former poise, Ivan made his way downstairs to the living room, approached the phone and proceeded to dial a number while pressing the receiver to his ear.

As expected, Poland answered in his usual lazy drawl.

-Yo, Russia! For the last time, I'm not gonna become one wi— -

'This isn't about that,' Ivan cut in soberly.

Poland paused a moment.

-Then what's up?- questioned the Pole, voice strained with impatience. -C'mon, be quick, my show's about to start!-

'My daughter, Galicia—is she with you at the moment?' Ivan pressed, trying to keep the urgency of his voice down.

-Huh? Nah, she left about two hours ago! Why, isn't she there yet?-

Poland always referred to Russia as "there" instead of using its proper title.

Ivan forced himself to swallow and collect himself.

'No, she hasn't. I'm...I'm a little anxious,' he admitted, flushing with shame.

-Awww, is lickle Russy-kins worried about his baby?- Poland mocked, relishing his chance to give Ivan a verbal blow to boost his own long-wounded ego. Russia was in a vulnerable position, and requested aid: if Poland ever wanted an opportunity to tease the powerful nation, this was it. Unfortunately, he had gravely underestimated Ivan's strength, who was characteristically more than willing to retaliate despite everything.

The Russian's violet eyes hardened, and he murmured into the receiver:

'Poland, I will blow your pitiful country to bits in a matter of hours—consequences be damned—if you don't take this seriously, get off your lazy ass and help find my daughter!'

He smirked as he heard Poland start at the other end of the line, clearly spooked by his words.

-...Fine. I'll gather up as many of my men as possible and send them through and around the route she must've took. You'll do the same, right?-

'Yes. Thank you. Make sure you contact me if you find her,' Ivan instructed impassively, putting the phone down before the Pole could protest. Instantly he walked purposefully to the coat-hanger on which his old beige scarf, gloves, and velvet trench-coat hung, donning them all in quick succession and holstering the old family sword and rifle which stood against the wall beside the front door on either hip, but not before checking the rifle's barrel for a full-load of bullets and the sword's sharp edge. Taking up a glimmering lantern in his left hand, Ivan Braginsky made his way out of his house and into the dark winter night.

Blood would spill again upon the virgin snow, but this time by his own wishes and will: for the daughter that was so rightfully his.

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Wow, I just can't get enough of Hetalia: Axis Powers! XD It's reignited my passion for History that's been depleted somewhat due to the studying of it for so long and the revision I've been doing for the past few weeks. Hetalia also helps you find out things about countries you never knew before.

In this fic's case, I learnt about the history of Russia (called Kiev Rus' before its dissolution following the Mongol Invasion in the 12/13th century, resulting in Galicia-Volhynia was eventually assimilated by the Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth following the Galacia-Volhynia Wars (1340–1392), in which the two nations battled for control over the once-Russian state). By the treaty of the Lublin Union of 1569, all of the former principality of Galicia–Volhynia became part of Poland.

Note: Galacia-Volhynia was a Ruthenian (Ukrainian) state in the regions of Galicia and Volhynia during 1199–1349. It was one of the three most important powers to emerge from the collapse of Kievan Rus'.

So interesting! :)