This is the oneshot that I've been writing all day, and it just happens to be for you which explains why I said that I think you'll like it or at least I hope you will. (This is the longest gift fic that I've ever gifted anyone!) So here's another one of your favorite pairings in Hetalia, and this time it's PoLiet/LietPol. Anyway, this is my gift fic chain for you which I've had started for a while though I just now finished it up. So please don't really feel pressured to continue the chain right away and if you can't continue it, I'll live. Oh, and link backs are allowed if you want to write one for me as well as four other people, or you could just write for five people that aren't me. Anyway, I hope that whenever you get a chance to read this, that you enjoy it. I thought that since it is Fantasy though mostly Wingtalia that you'd enjoy it as you really liked the idea of when I opened up my multifandom forum with your help and Pi's help, we roleplayed Wingtalia as one of the RPs and Fantasy is one of your favorite AUs as I recall or genres. Anyway, this is mine for you, and I hope you enjoy it, and that it turned out lovely and with the best possible outcome for me to write for you to enjoy it. (I doubt that I'll ever forget your two favorite Hetalia pairings: DenNor and PoLiet/LietPol.) My memory only seems to be good with the really weird things, but oh well, it helps in this case! Happy reading, and have a great day, Turtle!
Feliks plucked debris out of his feathers and huffed over the way that things seemed to currently be.
He'd seen his fair share of the battlefield where wings and magic meant that you should kill people though Feliks hated that kind of logic and all of the death.
His wings were cluttered with debris caused from going through the battlefields to deliver messages to loved ones.
His line of work was illegal as it was considered dangerous and distracting.
To avoid death, he pretended to be one of the war messengers that carefully delivered battle plans to allies of their camp.
Acting had never really been difficult for him though sometimes his shyness stilled or slowed down his actions awkwardly; he had pretended to be pregnant, widowed, and female to avoid becoming a part of the war though later he'd reassessed and chose to deliver mail and report back on loved ones' conditions.
The only scenario where he'd have to say "no" was with the actual military messengers as they'd notice right away that he wasn't one or they could be delivering letters themselves to other camps.
Feliks stared down at his carefully wrapped bundle of letters as he slowly read through the camps and names of the militant officials at war that they were to be delivered to; he checked for pictures of what each officer looked like, so that he could land nearby the individual that he was looking for right away.
Feliks started to flap his wings before he took off and after he'd sorted out the mail that he had to deliver.
He finally set off with a burning desire to be done with his job soon.
Feliks flew with ease and speed through battlefields as an experienced flyer of sorts.
It was after he'd been to three different camps and was on his way to a fourth that he'd collided with an actual paid messenger.
Feliks shrieked in surprise as he and the other man hit the ground.
The other flyer was an attractive brunette with gorgeously dark wings that amplified the beauty of his green eyes.
"Oh, h-hi." Feliks squeaked in a sort of nervous excitement.
"Who are you?" Cautious and rigid training had made the other paranoid though the brunette's cheeks were dusted a pretty pink color.
"F-Feliks." The Polish flyer's mind had blanked out on his current lie, so he hadn't been able to utter more than his actual, birth given name.
"Which camp are you from?" Feliks did not know how much of a struggle it was for the other man to stay stern.
Feliks simply assumed that staying stern became easy after the difficult military training that messengers weren't exempt from at all.
"I-I don't know." Feliks muttered rather awkwardly as his mind still hadn't reached a lie or an acceptable answer.
The brown haired and stern seeming 'angel,' wait no, normal messenger's eyes caught on one of Feliks's last remaining letters that he had to deliver to the loved ones of that were at war for the other citizens that he knew or sort of knew from where he lived.
"Southwest Branch. Good, we're on the same side then." The other and actually legit messenger relaxed and even looked relieved at that bit of news.
"W-what's your name?" Feliks's face flushed as he started to gather up his letters to deliver.
"It's Toris." He quickly realized what Toris was doing despite the pain inflicted by pure accident on his head and began to help the other messenger.
"Are you from Southwest?" Feliks asked the other man curiously.
"No, I'm from North. I was on my way back." Toris answered honestly.
"I bet that it will be nice to finally sleep in your own bed." Feliks responded, knowing full well from his very own experiences as a messenger about the almost relentless task of delivering letters and staying at a new fort and a bed from that fort or camp what felt like every night and having to readjust his schedule around things like when he arrived, when he'd leave, and what that particular bed felt like in comparison to his own bed.
"It will be." Toris smiled faintly; his eyes gave away a gentle excitement at the prospect of sleeping in his own bed again.
"I'll probably end up at Southwest for the night though I have other deliveries to make as well." Feliks explained rather easily except for his occasional, slight stutter as he slowly relaxed near the other.
"That won't be too bad if you come that fort." Toris smiled at Feliks in a surprisingly reassuring and gentle way.
Feliks beamed at that though before he left, he couldn't resist kissing Toris's cheek much to the brunette's astonishment as evidenced by his red cheeks.
Feliks slowly left as burning mortification began to fill him; 'Why did I do that?'
Feliks began to freak out barely keeping himself in the air and flying steadily.
He luckily made it to the Southwest fort unharmed and just as nightfall hit as if he'd been later, it would have become much tougher to get to the base unharmed.
They let him in with ease as they recognized him and never did report him; he handed out the letters for the officers of this base and finally crawled in to a warm and soft bed.
He did not see Toris for a while after that first encounter which wasn't particularly odd though he could have easily enough been avoided, but all of the other bases had at least seen him around at some point.
Feliks was kind of forced to shrug it off as otherwise it would constantly plague his mind and distract him.
Feliks kept his mind on his work to the best of his ability as well as the lighthearted conversations that he had with the officers that Feliks delivered the letters to.
He relaxed though he'd eventually encounter the brown haired Toris again.
"You're doing this illegally, aren't you?" Toris asked Feliks cautiously.
"W-what do you mean?" Feliks's face flushed in shame, and he wished that he could crawl in to a hole and hide from the other boy.
"You are delivering personal letters to soldiers on both sides of the war even though that's illegal." Toris spoke slowly to emphasize his point, and Feliks realized for the first time that the other messenger was scared.
Feliks couldn't lie to someone so fearful and open towards him, "Yes, I-I have been."
Feliks's own green eyes were crestfallen as he admitted this, but he still felt a startling wet coolness land on his very own person.
He glanced up in surprise as he watched Toris wiped away tears.
Feliks wondered if even an inkling of what he felt was what Toris was feeling now.
He reached forward to hug Toris, "The war will end soon."
Toris had to believe this as it was what got Feliks through everyday despite his illegal actions and potential heartbreak caused by what he did.
"I hope so." Toris clung to Feliks for now probably just waiting like Feliks was for the end of this stupid war.