They were the warriors.
Men couldn't take them on without risk of being decapitated, and no woman dare take a stand against them. She was an expert with her knives; her assassination techniques number one. No man could beat her: She was perfect in every sense of the word. Her hair was long; it fell in a straight, silver-blonde waterfall. Her eyes were violet-blue, capturing your attention before the heart-shaped face, and the alabaster skin. Her body was petite, small, but filled to accentuate what curve she had (which on her, looked perfect.) Not to mention, she was the little sister of Russia, one of the most feared men, and nations, in the world. She bound from tree to tree, her slender legs glistening in the sun as she leaped. Her blue skirt flit about her thighs, her silver armor bodice gleaming while sweat broke out all over her body. The blue cloak on her shoulders billowed behind her, caught in the chilling wind of a cold Belarusian night. On instinct, she drew the knives form her small black pouch on her hip, and prepared for what battle may ensue.
"Kesesesese~Natalia! What a lovely surprise to see you here, fighting for that damn unawesome Lithuanian!" An obnoxious, accented voice called from behind her, cocky and arrogant. She turned, meeting crimson eyes and silver hair. The man smirked, and she felt sick to her stomach.
"Not like I want to. The bastard took me from my Vanya. It's still my job, under his rule, to beat the Hell out of you, Hilbiert." She sneered, ready to slit his throat open with the flick of a wrist. The idea of blood being spilled didn't appeal to her, but the idea of shutting him up did. She watched him carefully, eyes focused and unmoving, almost as if she were a statue of perfect alabaster, left to be found by a wary, lonesome traveler. Perhaps he would fall in love with the statue.
A flick of the wrist, and steel could be flying, tearing open flesh. A flick of the wrist, and she would be free to roam for a few days more, before Toris came to find her, to tell he had sold her borders again. It was a take of ecstasy whenever she could have time alone, without bearing bad news. A flick of the wrist, and there was blood.
She side-stepped, hardly dodging the swinging blade coming towards her with mirth. She hated fighting this stupid Prussian! Quickly, she regained her footing, turning to see another barge from the man coming towards her. She knew it was too late to move, so she thrust herself forwards, her hands wrapping themselves around his wrists, stopping the swing of the blade.
"Kesesese~ Quick thinking, Nat!" He threw his arms, tossing her away, as if she were a rag doll. Her head slapped across the snow-ridden roots, sending a shiver up her spine, her barren back revealed to the ice. There was electricity in the air, it caused her blood to surge! She stood, grabbing another knife.
"I think you messed up, Prussian." The words came out like a song, her smile dancing like a beast on her lips.
"You dash after your opponent, and try to take them on with swinging and brute force. A woman, such as me, would be your worst nightmare."
The man's cackling laugh rang through her ears. It was like a bat howling, and she quirked a silvery eyebrow in question.
"I'll kill you for that, pretty Natalia!"
And with a flick of the wrist, he was downed.
Natalia made her way to who knows where. It was cold, but getting a bit warmer as she walked. It had been four days since her battle with the Prussian, and she hadn't slept nor eaten. She tended to zone out and do whatever for hours to days at a time, and she'd recently awoken from such a spell. She realized there was no possible way she was in Belarus, and made her journey end. She sat under a tree, her knees curled into her chest, her head buried in her arms. She wanted to weep, and would, had it not been a freezing night. Thoughts of her brother filled her head, the fact that she had not only been away from him for many years, but at this rate, would never return, made her body wrack with sobs. She couldn't hold it any longer, and all her strife poured into the empty air, the owls and trees the only witnesses. She felt the warmth of the tears trail down her cheeks, her eyes puffing and reddening, her face young, like that of a fourteen year old child. What could she do? Who could she go to?
"Miss?" Natalia's cheeks flushed, hearing another voice. She turned her head, her eyes hidden under her bangs. She saw a woman, possibly four years older than her, crouched beside her. She took in the woman's appearance: a black skirt, much like her own, and grey bodice, too. The chest was tied with string, unlike Natalia's, which pressed against her tightly. There was a black cloak, and a long broad sword next to her in the snow. She had spring green eyes and light brown hair, with a little pink flower on one side.
"I'm fine, Miss…" She mumbled under her breath, turning back to stare at the snow. She was a bit insecure, especially around other women. She started when a gentle hand made its way to her cheek, pulling her face back to the unfamiliar warrior girl. The woman stared at her, her skin shades darker than Natalia's, her eyes emotional, her cheeks flushed naturally. She was the opposite of little Belarus, who was small, pale as the snow in which she thrived in, with silver-blonde hair.
A smirk grew on the woman's lips, which caught Natalia off guard.
"You're safe, girl. I can keep you warm."
Natalia shot up, her head drowsy from her dream. It wasn't often she dreamed of her, but it always sent her into a daze when she did. She looked around, wondering where she was at.
A world meeting… no wonder I fell asleep so easily. She looked around, seeing no one worth her time. Not all the countries had even arrived, yet she'd been asleep for an hour. Her brother was seated next to her, staring at her with his normal smile, concern lining his gaze. Natalia hardly reacted in such a fashion, for she hardly dreamed, and she had grown accustomed to every nightmare imaginable. She tore her gaze from his own, and watched the doors, excitement and dread and longing lingering in the moments between herself and her dream. She fidgeted under the table, her hand curling into her apron, then curling out. It'd been like this for the past ten meetings or so, her nerves making a wreck of her. She knew her brother and sister knew, for Katyusha had asked her if she were alright. Naturally, coldly, she told her "I'm fine, Double Dumb." And stomped away.
The meeting went along smoothly. Natalia could steal glances at the young woman across form her, who was around twenty-three, four years her senior in looks. She had long, waved brown hair, pinned to one side with a little pink flower.
Elizaveta.
The woman who had saved Natalia from dying in the snow too many years ago was at the head of the table, her place next to Ludwig. She hardly spoke, unless it was an insult thrown at the Prussian nation, who was dissolved after World War II. Yet, for some reason, she decided that she would take the stand. She spoke in a powerful voice, her accent clear. Natalia hardly listened. It wasn't her strong point.
"-Will be asking that all female nations gather at my house tonight to stay."
Natalia heard the last bit of Hungary's statement, and lifted her eyes. She felt a blush form on her cheeks, having caught the Hungarian woman eyeing her intently, before she'd even looked up.
Natalia was in the car with her sister, who was driving, their bags in the back seat. Katyusha played some sort of pop music that Natalia hated. They remained silent, today's events jumbled in Belarus' head. Katyusha had asked her if she was going, and ultimately, ended up convincing Natalia to say yes. As they arrived, they were one of the few parked cars in yard, all the other female nations already having arrived by car-pooling. Natalia slipped out of her seat, grabbed her bag, and walked to the door. She knocked on it loudly, and waited impatiently. Once it was opened, she blushed a bit. Of course, with her luck, Hungary had opened the door in her short, tight, nightgown, and Natalia saw all the curve she needed to feel insecure. She stepped in on invitation, setting her bag down. She looked around, and was surprised to see that she and her sister were the only two not in their pajamas.
"Come on, Nat! I'll take you to my room so you can change." Eliza chirped, grabbing the Belarusian by the wrist and leading her up the stairs.
Once in the room, Natalia slipped on the plain white under dress she used as nightgown, and pulled her hair back into a bow. She saw the funny look Hungary was giving her and narrowed her eyes in defense. "What?"
"You wear that to bed?" She asked with a 'duh' tone, as if it were obviously a problem. Natalia frowned, taking a bit of offense to the comment.
"Da, I do. It was what I wore in the Union when we needed to be frugal with our money." It was old, but it didn't fit her as well as she claimed: It was a bit big in the chest and a little long, coming mid-shin rather than to her knees. Hungary laughed a bit, which calmed Natalia down.
A hand reached out, gripping Natalia's wrist, throwing her onto the bed. The figure slammed down on top of her, a shiver from the changing body heat going up her spine. She looked up, brown locks entangling with her own silver-blonde ones. Green eyes stared into her violet ones, and for once, Eliza was cold and cruel, while Natalia was flushed and confused.
"So. I took a risk here in grabbing you like that." Eliza said, a slow smirk forming on her lips.
"And you didn't even make a move to hurt me. Guess that means my ulterior motive may now commence."
A hand slid up Natalia's stomach, to the collar of her gown, where the buttons were slowly torn apart. Natalia was blushing and confused, too shy to take charge and make the woman on top of her stop. After all, Natalia wasn't even sure she wanted it to stop.
"You'll be my first."
Elizabeta froze, her eyes locked on the supple skin under her fingers, a bright contrast against the mocha colored sheets of her bed. Natalia's statement caught her off guard, and made her afraid to continue.
"You won't be mine."
A sudden pang of guilt shot through Elizaveta. She wished she hadn't given herself to Roderich, her ex-husband, and she felt shamed for not having saved it. Since that fateful night in winter, Hungary had fought her own selfish desires to siege and lay with the girl underneath her.
"Elizaveta? Natalia?" A sweet, baby-voice called, knocking on the door. Natalia and Eliza looked to the door, and Natalia noticed it was bolted shut.
When did she do that?
"We're okay! Nat just had a huge tear in her dress from it getting caught on a knife, so I'm hemming it! If it turns out badly, I'll find something for her to wear." You could hear innocence and truth lingering in the lie, and Natalia shouted a "Go away, we're fine." To the girls, who left on the chilly command.
Hungary's lips were against the girl's throat, placing a murderous bite on her skin. The Belarusian under her squirmed, a flush gathering on her cheeks. "Do you want me to stop?" Eliza asked, concerned that she was pushing her boundaries and would regret it when Natalia came to her senses.
"Absolutely not."
And with her command, Elizaveta continued her gnawing and kissing, some sweet, some vicious, while tearing away the clothes that separated their skin. Eliza was enthralled with the moans that escaped Natalia: It was her first time, and Eliza was being as vulgar and straight forward as possible. She did not use foreplay to prepare the girl for any sort of penetration, nor did she give any warning. It was just as intoxicating to compare their personalities. Natalia was always so brash, bold, cold, and cruel, yet in the moment, she was meek and melted, every moment an explosion of feeling that she couldn't comprehend. Perhaps it was a new high, sleeping with Elizaveta. Perhaps it was just the ecstasy she desired that made this even greater. Natalia didn't know, but she squirmed, her body often tensing and then slackening, every new experience making her blush and moan and yelp, the pain unbearably delicious.
Natalia was dressed in one of Eliza's nightgowns, covering her throat and arms. The night went well, Natalia and Eliza the last ones to fall asleep. As the others were curled up in blankets, snoring softly, Natalia and Eliza lay on the stomachs, far from the rest. They spoke to one another about life after that single night, about their problems and lives. Then, Natalia brought up the dreams.
"You dream about it?"
"Da… I was, just earlier today before everyone was at the meeting. I often feel nauseated from the jealousy of that Austrian." Natalia grimaced, the idea of her Elizaveta sleeping with him making her want to slit his throat open.
Eliza grabbed Natalia's face, planting a kiss softly against her lips. She pulled away, a small smile on her face.
"No more jealousy, my dear. I'll be keeping you warm in my arms from now on."