Sunflowers: Ch. 1 A Goal
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, though I almost wish I could.
It was dark. Snow covered the ground, much like the ice that covered the leafless branches of the trees. Small puffs of warm air floated from the mouth of a small child huddled at the base of a dead tree. The white-haired boy shivered, his violet eyes searching the forest for any sign of attack.
At the sound of crunching snow, the boy pulled further toward the tree, trying to merge with it to escape the snowy wasteland that was his home. He peered around, searching for the source of the sound.
Nothing.
He could make out nothing in the pale sliver of moonlight, the stars being shielded by clouds. In the glint of the snow and ice, Ivan pulled his scarf up to cover his mouth and nose, wrapping his arms about his knees in an attempt to become invisible to his attacker.
Another crunching sound. Then another and yet another, coming ever closer.
Ivan began to shiver in fear. He had not yet become strong enough to thwart General Winter's attacks. He was just too strong and Russia too small.
The large, powerful man came into view. Standing tall and proud, the General stared down his small adversary. He had not yet completely destroyed the weak nation, but he has tried every year. The small boy is able to avoid him most of the time, planting seeds and killing animals for survival when he can. But not this time. No. General Winter would succeed this time because the poor child did not have enough animals to kill and because he did not stock-pile enough plants to live off of. He came closer to the child, quivering in fear, a knowing sneer spreading across his face as he trudged through the snow.
Ivan looked up, defiance showing through his fear-strained eyes. He would not die this night. Not this night. These were his woods and they would always be his woods.
General Winter stopped, slightly put off by the strength of the child's gaze. His grin faltered for just a moment, but returned in all its force as he pulled his sword from its sheath. The boy would die and the forest would be his for the rest of eternity. He settled into a proper stance to swing the blade and behead the boy, pulling it up and letting it fall in a beautiful arc.
Suddenly, Ivan jumped up, violet eyes flashing in the light of the dagger he pulled from his long, ragged coat. General Winter staggered backward, gently touching the bloody gash in his stomach. He looked up, smiling at his adversary. This would be fun. The large man pulled his sword back and, with a yell, lunged at the small child who ducked between his legs, slashing at his calves and ankles, trying to bring him down.
Ivan succeeded. The great man gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow, a pool of blood beginning to soak into the snow around his legs. The general tried to get up, only to fall back down, his Achilles' tendons sliced. He let out a growl of frustration that was silenced by the child as Ivan jumped atop his back, pushing him into the snow with a loud crunch.
Ivan hacked at the man beneath him, listening to the screams echoing through the forest with a faint smile etched across his face. He had won. The boy hacked straight through General Winter's throat, ripping his head off and throwing it to lie in the snow a few feet away. He grinned. He had won!
The boy let out a small chuckle as the man and his blood began to disappear, melting into the snow-covered ground.
Humming to himself, Ivan stood and began walking through the forest, not an ounce of fear left in him. He had survived another winter. It would soon be spring, time to plant crops again. And who knows, maybe he would harvest enough to make it through without any difficulty next year.
Ivan began swinging the knife playfully around, cutting little nicks into the trees as he passed, pausing only when he caught a glimpse of light in the distance. The sky had begun to turn grey, signaling the rise of the morning sun. He laughed lightly and continued on his way. He would go see how his people in Moscow had faired this winter; that's what he would do.
Happily trudging through the snow, Ivan began to notice signs that spring was fast approaching: signs he had missed the day before in his attempt to escape General Winter's grasp. The ice was beginning to melt and water was dripping from the trees to form small pock-holes below the branches in the snow. There were small puddles of water here and there where, normally, there would have been ice to slip on or snow to jump in. Ivan smiled to himself. He should have noticed General Winter's power weakening. He would not miss such obvious information in the future.
The day continued with Ivan walking through the forest, coming to the edge as night began to fall. He made a small fire at the base of a large tree, curling in between the roots to keep warm. Ivan smiled to himself as he fell into a more peaceful sleep than he had all winter. He could not wait to see Moscow the next evening.
He woke with a start at the sound of crunching snow much before dawn. The fire had gone out long ago, leaving only coals.
Quickly getting to his feet, the boy looked around, wary of any sign of danger. His violet eyes quickly spotted the culprit, a large white hare, nibbling at a spot of grass poking up at the base of a tree not that far away. Ivan smiled at the hare and looked back to what was his fire.
Ten minutes later, Ivan was humming happily as he skinned and cooked the animal over a newly-lit flame. When it was properly prepared, he ate what he wanted and put the rest into the pocket of his coat, kicking out the flames of his fire and beginning his walk out over the field toward Moscow, still before daylight.
Just as dawn was beginning to lighten the edges of the sky, Ivan saw something small poking up out of the flatness of the snow-covered ground. It looked lonely out in the middle of the snowy waste and he ran toward it, eager to find out just what it was.
As he came closer, he could tell; it was a sunflower. Standing proud to meet the dawn, face turned toward the east where light was starting to filter through the grey clouds in a plethora of reds, purples, yellows, and gold. Ivan was in awe of this lone flower, this plant that seemed to be standing there for the sole purpose to meet the sun. He sat and watched it, seeing its face and watching it all day until the sun set. After darkness had set in, Ivan slowly stood, gazing at the flower.
One day, I will have a land where sunflowers grow strong in great numbers, where I can sit and watch the sun with them and they with me. It will be a land where there are long, warm summers and I will not have to battle General Winter for my life. It will be my place, a place where things will be as they should.
Ivan smiled and hummed to himself as he continued to Moscow, having a new goal in mind: A goal that he would pursue far on into his life.
A.N. Yes. I know there's no Alfred in this, yet, but it's coming, I swear! :D