Russia was packing up his notes from a meeting he had deemed enjoyable. His presentation on imperialism and what lands he wanted went well. No one dared question him for them, and he was satisfied. Well actually, almost no one dared to question him, but Russia never much minded America's questions.
The nation was still so new and now looked to be in his mid-teens. The older nation did not mind a bit of advice giving and question answering. Russia had once asked America his human age. He had just winked and said, "Old enough to be an spectacular nation." That had not been helpful at all.
He could tell that America was hesitant on the idea of colonizing for obvious reasons, but Russia was confident he would too one day rule over distant lands. Territory was power, and he could see America had a knack for running after that and catching it in a nick of time.
It had been almost a full year since he visited the American coast, but he knew he had seen, so he was confident America was not fading anytime soon. That meant it was a tad safer to try and make him into a friend. Things were going well for once, yet Russia sometimes felt out of the loop with the whole companionship business.
He was learning all over again from when he was a child and his sister taught him to smile at others and be polite, and it seemed that day was going to be another learning experience.
America had walked over and stood next to him. Russia pretended not to notice to watch the way the excitable nation bounced on his toes. America's clothing from meetings had changed from the deep blue uniform, to a spiffy suit, to a simple white shirt with a blue vest and nice slacks. He looked more comfortable without the fancy suit jacket and polished shoes.
Russia had been noticing America has started to wear gloves, and he wondered foolishly if the boy was copying him. Even the older nation did not completely understand why the idea made him feel so warm inside.
"Russia, you should invite me to your place.", America blurted out as if he could not bare to keep the words in any longer.
A little chuckle escaped the nation now picking up his brief case. "Hello, comrade America.", he said calmly with amusement swirling in his eyes. "I do believe it customary for the host to invite the guest."
It was not a mystery as to what had brought this on. America had been traveling recently. As his potential as a nation began to show, older nations began taking more of an interest in him. It put an uncomfortable feeling in Russia's chest that was a mix of anger and nerves.
France had even had the guts to start talking about some "grand gift" for the new nation that made America grin even wider and hug his first ally.
Many nations invited the ex-colony for visits to their countries. America used to accept all the time every time unless he had some rather important meeting back home, and Russia listened each time with a pleasant smile when America gushed about the many sights of the world he had been freed to explore. Russia imagined a bird let out from a cage would say the same things as America.
"I never knew how there was music that could be described as spicy! I never saw anything like the ocean in Athens! Did you know that it nearly rains every day in England? Yet, the palace is so grand! The streets of Paris smell like pastries! Russia, can you believe it?! The world is so big! I wish I could see just how far the sky stretches!"
And Russia really was happy when America was so enthusiastic.
Lately however, America had been refusing trips. He was busy at home with the largest railroad the world had ever seen, and many countries whispered about how it was basically impossible, but America showed no doubt in his grin or in his eyes.
Everything about him radiated a confidence which was strange for someone so young hoping to beat the records of people who had many, many more years of experience.
Russia was an observer for the most part. It was the role he most often found himself in. He was anything but passive when challenged, and he was never shy at meetings, but he did not like to waste his breath.
He especially needed to save air for when America laughed or let his eyes light up. The youth surely had some of England's magic. How else would he take the breath away from Russia's lungs?
That was partly why Russia had never invited America to his house despite imagining how amazed the blond would be at his castle. If America thought England or France's royalty was impressive, he would be left shocked by the majesty in St. Petersburg.
Yet... Russia had so often been told his house was cold, and every winter, America bundled up until he resembled as snowball, and he even complained about what Russia saw as mild temperatures. Russia found himself downright fearful of inviting the temperature sensitive boy to his house, and now, it was the winter of all times.
"I never cared much for formalities.", America said with a mischievous grin that spoke of days of laughter and harmless pranks, a rebel dwelled in his soul, and he could not keep that part of him down long. America did not slow himself with learning ever custom there was in the world. He was far too focussed on things he deemed of more import, his seemingly unreachable dreams.
Russia's smaller smile exhibited the same playful nature but in a way much more controlled and refined. "You must wait until summer." He left the meeting room and was not surprised when America darted to his side on his way out the door with and whined like a child, "Ruuuuusia! That seems like forever! Why can I not visit right now? I reckon you know I am a busy man! This could be your only chance!"
And in that moment Russia made a mistake, a huge mistake when denying America anything.
He looked him in the eye.
Suddenly, he was captive to the wide blue skies that opened up to the universe of the strange man's mind. It was enchanting. It was a magic he was unfamiliar with, and with them so big and questioning, it was adorable. No one with a heart could say no once being taken prisoner by that gaze.
"Russia, there must be something you can show me in your country! Is there not some pretty castle, some good food? Take my to a festival! I love those."
"January 6th is Epiphany.", he said quietly before his mind caught up with his lips.
America whooped with joy, and before Russia could take the offer back, the boy had sprinted off to go speak with England, leaving Russia to look after his escape. He felt like a damned man watching a flame approach. January Sixth was going to be interesting indeed.
And by America's reaction, Russia was sure he had no idea what Epiphany even was.
The sixth came fast.
Russia waited nervously at the dock as the ship carrying America pulled into the harbor, and a sudden bark of laughter left him before his gloved hand came up to cover his mouth, and even then, he could feel his smile.
America was leaning over the rail of the ship at the very front and waving like they had not seen each other in years. He was bundled up in so many layers of red, white, and blue that he looked like a strange fruit.
Russia waved back in a much calmer fashion, which caused the teen to nearly give him a heart attack when he leaned over the icy rail to yell at the shore line. "Helllllloooo Russia! Aren't you something!"
The personification of the land he was admiring blushed in a way that had nothing to do with wind chill.
Minutes later, he had a chatty American next to him with rosy cheeks and bright, curious eyes. America did not stop talking once until Russia finally got up the nerve to ask what might be an invasive question, but he had to ask for them to proceed with the Epiphany ceremony.
"America, are you a Christian? Epiphany is a Orthodox ceremony celebrating the baptism of Jesus. You see, it would be...improper for you to participate if you are not a believer. You can still watch if you are not. That is not so bad, da?"
He waited for a response and felt instantly relieved when America smiled and poked his shoulder. "Sure am!" The gaze Russia always seemed drawn to softened in understanding and a bit of concern. "I am not sure what branch I agree with the most, though. There are just so many! Is that still alright? I do not want to offend! Freedom of religion is a big deal, and I make an effort to be respectful, so it is really fine if I just watch!", he assured Russia quickly.
Russia was instantly charmed. America could seem uncaring of tradition at time, but when it counted, the other nation's heart was in the right place. Just like Russia, whenever America was cruel or insulting, it was almost always unintentional.
The really were alike...
"Niet, I want you to participate as my guest."
"Thank you!"
Russia lead him to the lake by the cathedral. The priests and a large crowd had already gathered. Russia kept glancing at the confusion on Alfred's face as the lake was blessed and then people began sawing at the ice. Soon, the shape of a cross was cut into the lake.
This was the part Russia really wanted to see America's reaction. The first person stripped down to their undergarments and jumped into the lake. America gasped, and his eyes went comically wide with surprise and horror. His gloved hands covered his mouth which Russia was sure was wide open. "That man fell into the ice! No, he jumped!"
America's eyes went up and down slightly as he followed the man's movements as he dunked under and surfaced again three times, making the sign of the cross after each before running from the lake and yelling out from the cold shock to his body and the victory in his spirit. People cheered and wrapped in in fluffy robes and blankets.
America clapped along even though he did not understand what had just happened. He was someone easily swept up in excitement and others' joy, Russia noted.
Then, the next person jumped in and America's loud exclamation of surprise made a few people laugh which caused the confused nation to blush and wave shyly. America shy? This truly was a day of miracles!
America looked up at Russia and asked with a small smile even as his body shook from the cold winds and mist from the lake. "What is going on here?"
Russia was happy to explain a part of his culture. "This is the celebration of Jesus being bapitized. We recreate it in a sense by jumping into the lake. The three dunks are for The Father, The Son, and The Holy Ghost. The water is blessed before hand and the blessing is said to last the year. The cold shocks the body, but is good for..." He trailed off, forgetting the English word.
To his surprise, America waited patently instead of rushing him to remember. Russia clapped his hands together as he remember. "Immune system! Da, that!"
He was surprised America's April reminiscent giggles did not melt another hole in the ice. "You Russians sure are resistant to the cold! Jee whiz! If I did not know better, I would say you were joshing me!"
The teenage nation watched multiple people partake, clapping each time and laughing along with the crowd whenever someone had a particularly interesting reaction to the cold water. Russia was pleased he looked like he was having fun.
"I am going to take a dip now, stay here a moment.", Russia told him calmly before taking off his coat. He shivered at the cold wind that ripped through his simple shirt and pants. He took off his shirt and pants, leaving only his undergarments. He did not miss the way America's cheeks darkened and his eyes widened before he jokingly blew a kiss.
Russia smacked him lightly upside the head.
Then, he hesitantly unwound his scarf and and held it out to America with a strange lump in his throat. "This is dear to me. Keep it safe."
America took the fabric carefully and smiled softly at him with loyalty sparking in the two skies behind misted glass. "I promise."
With that, the larger nation walked towards the lake with bare feet that stung with each step from the snow. He greeted the priest politely before walking calmly into the freezing water. His head always felt so clear when doing this.
The first dunk was always the worst. His body stiffened in surprise as if was covered in frozen water. He sent up a prayer that the winter would be mild this year.
He surfaced and dunked under again quickly after a quick sign of the cross. It was important not to stay in the water too long or he could get hypothermia. By the time he surfaced again, his body was numbing pleasantly.
The third dunk was so easy he almost did not want to exit the lake. While under, he prayed for the success of Russia and most importantly the Russian people. That was normally what he did this time of year, but this time, there was another thing he thought of. He sent up his hope for friendship this year.
When he came up and caught sight of baby blue eyes, he did not think it selfish or foolish to ask for a bit of heavenly assistance in keeping the relationship slowly growing.
He rushed from the water, gasping softly at the cold wind. America quickly handed him his clothes with a grin as he rambled about how long Russia had stayed in the water and how impressive and shocking it was. He wrapped the scarf around Russia's neck.
Russia huffed a laugh as he put on his dry clothes frantically. "Are you going? I want to get inside soon.", he asked his guest.
America looked at the water as if it could come alive and drown him, but he nodded determinedly and began working on the buttons of his jacket. "Course! I am not missing out on a single experience! I'm gonna do it all!"
"One thing then.", Russia walked behind the younger nation and grabbed his hand, molding his fingers so that the middle, pointer, and thumb were pressed together. America gasped. "Your hands are freezing!" The near frozen man laughed softly, enjoying how warm America's hand was in contrast and placing a hand on his shoulder. "This is what you use to make the cross in Orthodoxy.", he explained.
America grinned and pulled away. "Got it! I need to get in the water before I lose my nerve!"
Russia couldn't resist teasing. "Is the little one afraid?"
"I am not little!"
America was already shaking like a leaf, and soon enough, he was stripped down to a single shirt and grey long underwear. He was not showing nearly as much skin as the men before him had, yet multiple layers had been set in Russia's arms as the other nation disrobed. He had plenty to change back into.
America did not take off his socks, saying that he could not bare to walk across the snow without them.
As Russia watched, he slowly set his foot down from where he stood on top of his boots and let out a cute squeak before his eyes hardened in determination. America ran to the lake like the hounds of hell were at his heels, jumping and taking the largest steps he possibly could.
The warmer nation did not hesitate to jump into the cold water, or at least, he would not have if he got the chance. His wet socks did nothing to help him as his mad dash caused him to slip. His arms flailed as he crashed int the freezing depths. Russia's mouth fell open slightly in surprise. His cheeks turned a darker red. Why did America have to be such a dork, and worse yet, why did Russia like it?
When the klutz surfaced the first time, it was with a scream of shock that sent laughter through the crowd and made Russia take a few steps closer to the lake. America did not take his time with the bobs. He dunked up and under as quickly as he could, and his hand flew from his forehead to just under his chest, to his shoulders in the fastest cross Russia had ever laid eyes on.
He was sure on the third one the other nation smacked himself on the face from such speed.
Then, the soaking wet nation launched himself from the lake and ran over.
America's cheeks were pink, his skin pale, and his hair darkened with water, but his eyes were laughing and alive. He snatched his clothes back as Russia held them out. "I am freezing! How do you do that every year?"
America seemed frantic as he pulled on his boot with one hand while trying to put on one of his jackets with the other. He jumped up and down to keep warm while gasping softly every time his other foot hit the snow.
As fun as it was to watch, Russia would feel bad if he did not at least try to help.
"Stop, silly American. You need to take off your wet shirt, or the warm clothes will do nothing." He calmly reached out and gripped the bottom of America's shirt that was pretty much clear at this point anyway and sticking to his form.
The affect was instant. America's cheeks turned from irritated pink to a deep, rose red. He tripped while putting on his shoe and fell forward into Russia's arms, yet instead of backing away, the smaller nation sighed happily and cuddled closer, stealing the warmth from Russia's dry, steadily growing damp jacket.
"Oh my gosh! You're warm!", America exclaimed and latched himself onto Russia.
Russia should have pushed him away. America needed to get dressed, people would start staring, and the silly, smily nation was soaking his favorite jacket, but...
He stood there was with wide eyes and a sweet man in his arms with a frozen body and a melting heart, because America had called him "warm." It was more than he had ever hoped for, so instead of pulling away, Russia took America into his large jacket by opening it and wrapping one side around him. With that, he guided the shivering nation to the Church to warm up.
He could have not asked for a better Epiphany.
They drank warm drinks and America even had a shot of vodka which made his face scrunch up. Once they were warm and dry, Russia took the other nation to his home where America curled up in the guest bedroom under the many layers of blankets Russia had prepared for him and mumbled a quick goodnight without unpacking his bag.
Russia sighed from the doorway and carefully closed the door, feeling warm inside and happier than he had been in far too long.