CHAPTER 4: Alus - Beer

Eduard didn't mind paperwork. In fact, there was plenty of glory to be had in paperwork. It eased the mind, it helped sort out his organizational ticks, and made him feel as though he was contributing to his government –

"Except this paperwork isn't contributing to anything," he grumbled to himself.

Despite the fact that Russia's mansion was a madhouse, there was order to how things were done. The Baltics shared the weight of running the household, each with their own responsibilities.

Most of Raivis's work involved cleaning. The Latvian had scrubbed, dusted, and polished every centimeter of the mansion a hundred times over. This was partially the reason for the frequent number of broken dishes on his watch – the poor boy spent so much of his time clutching rags and scrub brushes that Eduard wasn't surprised when he lost his grip on a plate every now and then. Even so, playing janitor had its advantages: Raivis knew the mansion better than any of them, even Russia. He knew exactly which artifacts were in each room, and more importantly, the quickest ways to get from one point in the mansion to another. Eduard had seen his brother materialize seemingly out of nowhere, then dart back to the other side of the mansion in a matter of seconds. This would be a useful survival skill… if only the boy wasn't so terrified of Russia that he froze up whenever he got in trouble.

Toris's workplace was the kitchen. Cooking for Russia's household was no easy task, and the over the years the Lithuanian had perfected almost every Russian recipe. Even in times of deadly food shortages, Toris somehow managed to make the most amazing borscht Eduard had tasted. Russia trusted Toris the most, so it was also his job to run to the city and pick up groceries. Eduard was envious of his brother's freedom, but Russia was right not to trust him. Given the chance to wander the streets of Moscow, his first stop would be a train headed for Tallinn.

Rather than roaming rights, Eduard found himself with the privilege of being designated an office. There was a practical reason for this: anything involving a pen was his job. Normally he wouldn't mind crunching numbers all day, but checking boxes and scribbling signatures for himself, his brothers, and Russia was a mind-numbing task straight from a nightmare. To make things worse, Russia handled the important documents that actually affected their peoples' lives. All the leftovers – protocols, terms of agreement, and logistics – were dumped onto Eduard's desk. Sometimes the mountain of paperwork was so high, he spent days organizing it all. After countless hours of being force-fed legal jargon, Eduard's Russian vocabulary was much more sophisticated than his brothers'. Not only that, but he knew what made the Soviet Union tick. He understood the ins and outs of their legal system, and kept a secret journal of all the loopholes. That's what had given him the idea of releasing Prussia from dungeon… but of course, it was a useless plan. Eduard threw his pen onto the desk and flipped open his notebook for the umpteenth time that morning. There had to be something in here that would help him come up with another plan! He thumbed through the pages, scanning the titles written in Estonian so only he could read them:

How to shorten a car purchase wait. Things only forbidden in Moscow. Acceptable landlord bribes. Acceptable МГБ bribes. Acceptable politician bribes. Acceptable…

Eduard groaned and snapped the journal shut. A whole day had gone by, and he still couldn't think of anything else! He slammed his fist onto the desk with such force that a jar of pens tipped over, and they clattered to the floor. Eduard muttered under his breath, rising from his chair and crouching on his hands and knees to pick them up from the marble tile.

While the work was monotonous, Eduard did enjoy having his own space. The office ceiling was high, and a tall window draped with silk curtains offered a nice view of distant Moscow. The shelves and walls were painted off-white, and the floor a swirling gray marble tile. Granted it was dull, but at least the bright tones made for a room that was well-lit… unlike Russia's office, Eduard thought grimly. He'd much rather work here than in a cave.

Just then there was a knock at the door. Eduard scrambled to his chair and shoved the pens back into the jar. He opened a file cabinet, tossing the notebook inside before slamming it shut. He flattened his hair and snatched up a pen, bending over the desk to finish a signature. "Come in."

A low creak echoed through the room as the door swung open. Eduard glanced up and was met with a pair of emerald eyes. He tensed, unsure of what to expect after their harsh argument the night before. Toris stepped into the room and closed the door softly behind him. Wet hair glistened in the morning light, and Eduard caught the sweet scent of soap and shampoo. Toris's collar was flipped up to hide the skin, but as he drew closer Eduard noticed red circles splotching his neck. An awkward silence settled between the two of them.

"Can we talk?" The Lithuanian's voice was back to its gentle tone, absent of the venom from the night before.

A part of Eduard dreaded this conversation, but he knew it was pointless to refuse. "Of course." He gestured to an extra chair in the corner, watching in silence as Toris pulled it up to face his desk. The Lithuanian took a seat, hands clasped tightly between his knees.

"I wanted to apologize for my outburst last night. Whatever – 'authority' I may try to invoke over you or Raivis no longer exists. We are equals, and it was wrong of me to forget that."

Eduard found it strange they were still having this conversation when the Commonwealth had been disbanded for almost two centuries. Even after so many years of being under Russia's control, Toris still held remnants of his previous authority. It was said that once a nation tasted true power, they never forgot it – perhaps not even Toris was an exception to that rule.

"Thank you," he muttered. Eduard felt as though he should apologize as well, but Toris wasn't taking back his decision to be with Russia. Nor did he seem to expect an apology, which Eduard saw as proof that he had been right. Silence settled around them once again – Eduard hoped his brother would move on from this uncomfortable topic. In his desperation to ease his nerves, he twirled the pen between his fingers.

"I didn't just disagree with your plan because I hate Prussia."

Eduard blinked; Toris wanted to talk about the plan? "Don't worry about it. You were right, it would have never worked."

"That's my point. Initially, I had thought it wouldn't work because Prussia is a monster incapable of thinking of anyone else besides himself. Well –" Toris smiled bitterly, "That is true. But even a monster will agree to do anything if he benefits from it."

The pen stopped in Eduard's hand as he realized where Toris was going with this. "A bribe."

"We need something to hold over his head...but any negotiations are useless if we try to make them while he's blinking in the first sunlight he's seen in seven years."

Eduard stared at Toris a moment before it dawned on him what his brother was suggesting. "You're saying that – that we go down into the dungeon and talk to him?"

"No, I'm saying you go down into the dungeon and talk to him. If memory serves, you and Raivis spoke fluent German at the Nazi Estate. Operating in Prussia's native tongue will be a huge advantage to us, especially considering the state of mind he could be in. I know it's dangerous, and a lot to ask of you. But it's the only way to gain his cooperation."

Eduard was surprised that Toris even remembered his second language was German. While the Estonian and Latvian aristocracy had been entirely German-speaking up until the Independence Wars, he and Raivis hadn't spoken it around Toris in over a century. Even at the Nazi Estate we spoke English whenever we could… but I guess he picked up that we had no problems understanding orders. In truth, Toris probably remembered for the simple fact that he couldn't speak German at all. The Lithuanian had spent those first thirty years in Petersburg completely isolated from Eduard and Raivis's conversations. It was only after Russia cracked down on the "language rule" that Eduard and Raivis reluctantly hit the books. Toris – who by that time had already achieved fluency thanks to his relationship with Russia – had been so desperate to be included, he broke down and wept the first time he heard Eduard and Raivis speaking Russian to each other. It was the cruelest of ironies: Russification is what made their current brotherly relationship even possible.

"Whether or not I speak German is irrelevant if we can't even get into the dungeon. You know just as well as I do that the only way into that hell pit is the key. Even if we knew where it was, we're as good as dead if we try to steal it."

Toris held Eduard's gaze, his face unchanging. Slowly, he reached a hand into his pocket. He placed an object on Eduard's desk, sliding it forward so that it scraped against the wood.

There, sitting on his desk, was a small brass key.

Eduard stared at it, then back up at Toris, then back down at the key."Mu jumal," he breathed. Horror filled him as he realized how Toris must have obtained it, the image of his brother lunging for the kiss replaying in his memory. Eduard stared at his brother – the wet hair, the collar turned up to hide bite marks splotching his neck… Suddenly Eduard grew angry – not at Toris, but at himself. How had he allowed this to happen?! If he had known this was the reason, he wouldn't have walked away so easily! "Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded.

"I didn't want to make you choose between Raivis and I. You couldn't have saved us both."

Eduard was horrified that his plan could lead to something so disgusting, so twisted as what Toris had done. He shook his head. "No – no, this is wrong. There's another way around this."

Toris raised his eyebrows. "You've thought of another plan?"

"Well…not exactly – "

"Then unless you would rather abandon it, I see no reason for you to refuse."

Eduard's eyes darted from the key to his brother. Only yesterday Toris had grown furious at the mention of Prussia's name, and now he was making such a sacrifice to rescue him? The logic didn't add up. "Why… why would you do this?"

Toris frowned, "What do you mean?"

"The whole purpose of this plan is to find out what Russia did to Raivis, but you don't think he hurt him at all. Yesterday you made it perfectly clear that releasing Prussia from the dungeon was too dangerous. And if what you say is true and you don't love Russia, then – "

Toris sent him a dark look, "I don't love Ivan."

"Well if that's the case then why would you be willing to go to such lengths to help me?"

Toris was silent for some time. His fingers picked at the leather on the chair. "I'm curious to see which one of us is right. I've been wrong about Ivan before; we can never be too cautious. And… there's a possibility that seven years in the dungeon has weakened Prussia. I won't go as far as to say that he's repented, but maybe he'd be willing to help us."

Curiosity and possibility seemed like weak reasons to Eduard. Toris's logic was so skewed that perhaps making these huge sacrifices was worth it to him… but Eduard had the feeling his brother was keeping secrets. Of course the Lithuanian had the right to privacy – even so, it annoyed Eduard that after all these years, they still couldn't be honest with each other. He sighed, deciding it wasn't worth the effort to press for a better answer.

"Alright. I'll talk to Prussia."

A smile flickered across Toris's face. He picked up the key from the desk and tilted it, watching the light play off its surface. "I may not be fit to negotiate with Prussia, but I can give you some advice. Obviously our leverage is a means of escape from the dungeon – if he agrees to help us, we can arrange for a meeting so Ivan has to release him. That was your plan, correct?"

"Yes, although convincing Russia to hold a meeting might prove difficult."

"I'm working on that. But for now, Prussia doesn't need to know the likelihood of us actually following through."

"And if we don't follow through, he'll just be trapped in the dungeon, so there's no need to worry about him getting revenge."

"Assuming Ivan won't release him later, yes." Toris slid the key across the desk and leaned back in his chair. "There's something else you should know. When you go to the dungeon, you'll need to bring beer with you."

Eduard blinked. "Beer?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but trust me. I've sat through enough meetings with that idiot to know any talks without beer are pointless."

Eduard wasn't sure whether to be amused by this or worried – it sounded as though Prussia was just a heavy drinker as Russia."Well, that's unfortunate. The only alcohol in this house is vodka."

"Maybe not. Do you remember our last business trip to Prague?"

"Yes – remind me to put Raivis on a leash next time." That was one trip Eduard would never forget. One moment he and his brothers were watching the Astronomical Clock – the next, he turned around and Raivis was gone. Eduard and Toris had spent hours scouring the city in search of their little brother. By the time they finally found him, he was so drunk that Russia had to carry him back to the airport.

Toris flashed a sly smile. "I think I know where you can find your beer."

Eduard made a mental note to track down Raivis as soon as he finished this paperwork. If the boy really was hiding a stash of alcohol, it wouldn't take much for him to blab its location. "Is there anything else I need to know?"

Toris's expression darkened. "I said there's a possibility that Prussia is weak, but we have to be prepared for the worst. If he's anything like he was seven years ago, he won't hesitate to kill when given the chance."

This confused Eduard even more. What was all that about 'If I lose you, I lose everything?' And now Toris is sending me down to negotiate with this lunatic!? "Then… shouldn't I take a weapon?"

"Mm… no, I think it best that you go unarmed. Any weapon is just a tool for him to use against you. Don't underestimate the power of language; he'll be less likely to attack a German speaker."

Didn't stop the Nazis from rolling over my borders...and even my own nobility could tell I had an accent. Eduard scoffed and shook his head, "This is madness."

"Ivan should be keeping him in chains; just stay away from the back wall. If Prussia is desperate enough, he'll be more than willing to help us." Toris's voice grew quiet as he added, "I was barely in that dungeon for a month and I would have done anything to get out."

Eduard shuddered at the memory of their first year at the mansion in 1940. Toris's punishments for refusing to obey Russia had been so severe that some nights Eduard and Raivis could hear the screams echoing from downstairs. What must Prussia be like after seven years of that pain?

"Don't worry, you'll do fine. At this point any threats Prussia makes are fruitless – he's nothing but a shell of what he once was."

Eduard tried to smile but he was sure it came across as a grimace. "I'll... try to keep that in mind."

There was a moment of silence as the weight of their plan settled in the room. Eduard knew that by going through with this, they were both choosing to deliberately work behind Russia's back. The consequences of this could be severe; a risk both he and Toris understood they were taking. But at the same time, a new excitement hummed through the air. It had been years since the Baltics had done anything to resist Russia's authority – so long that Eduard had almost forgotten the thrill of it.

Toris broke the silence by clearing his throat. "I'd better start making preparations for lunch. I was thinking of having pelmeni, does that sound good?"

Eduard stared at his brother; it seemed the longer they talked, the less Toris made sense. How can he think about food at a time like this? "Yes, that… that sounds good."

Toris rose from the chair, adjusting his collar to conceal the marks on his neck. "I'll send Raivis to get you when lunch is ready." Eduard's gaze followed his brother as he left the room. Just minutes ago he had been mourning the impossibility of a plan, and now thanks to Toris it seemed as though everything had fallen into place.

"Toris!"

The Lithuanian turned around, his hand on the doorknob.

"Thank you." Eduard wanted to say more – to let his brother know that whatever he was going through, they could talk about it. But his voice stuck in his throat. How could he – or anyone else for that matter – confront Toris about that?

Toris's lips pulled into a weak smile. "Don't thank me yet," he said, before stepping through the door and pulling it shut with a thunk.

~/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/~

Raivis clutched the satchel to his chest, muscles tense as he tiptoed down the hall. He kept his ears peeled for any sign of footsteps, listening past the light sloshes coming from the bag.

He always felt so small, even when there weren't other nations around. It seemed as though everything in the mansion towered over him – the doorways, the windows, ceilings, bookshelves, portraits… His own home in the Latvian countryside was much more comfortable; almost cozy, stuffed with plush furniture and books. The ceiling was low, and the living room small enough so he could feel the fire's heat from his favorite chair. It was completely different from Russia's mansion, where despite the countless artifacts and elegant furniture the rooms just felt… empty. It was as if the books and fireplaces were only a façade – the same façade that was plastered across Soviet headlines, the same lie that rested in Russia's cheerful voice, so high-pitched and happy as if everything was "okay."

Raivis grit his teeth. Everything was not okay! How was everything okay if his stomach constantly gnawed in hunger? If he couldn't even speak his own language, or have any contact with his people, or control anything that happened to them? How was everything okay, if life here was so horrid that his only escape was alcohol –

Nē! Raivis's hands tightened around the leather of the satchel. I can't think that way anymore. If I'm going to figure out what Russia did to me, I need to have a clear head. He'd spent the last two days struggling to keep his panic at bay, forcing his imagination into submission as it offered up unpleasant images of what Russia could have done while he was drunk.

If that wasn't bad enough, there was the whole situation with Toris. Ever since the war's end, Raivis had watched his brother drift further and further away until it felt as if their friendship had reverted back to the early Petersburg days. It wasn't Toris's apparent relationship with Russia that bothered him – it was the distance that had suddenly appeared, an invisible wall Toris had built to keep both him and Eduard out. Raivis's chest ached just thinking about it; whether with anger or hurt, he wasn't sure. Before the war, he had trusted Toris with his life. But last night, Raivis had been so terrified of Russia's possible appearance that he barricaded the door with his dresser. Why did that I do that? Why was I so… afraid?

Of course none of this was helped by the fact that Eduard was hiding things from him, too.

"Raivis what – why can't I open the door?"

"Is Toris with you?"

"No, he's with Russia."

Raivis cracked open the door to peer at an annoyed Eduard standing in the hall. "W-well… did anything happen? You were gone for a while – "

"Nothing happened, I didn't get there on time. Now can I come in, please?"

Past the irritated glare shot through Eduard's glasses, Raivis had instantly known his brother was lying. Why can't they ever tell me anything? Don't they know I'm not a kid anymore? It seemed his brothers had forgotten all they had failed to protect him from in the past... not to mention that he'd fought tooth and nail to win independence. Did they really think withholding this small piece of information would scar him further?

If I stop can stop drinking, maybe I can prove I'm in control. Raivis recalled the disappointment in his brothers' eyes as they tried to coax him away from the bottle – not just once, but many times during their life with Russia. Maybe it wasn't that much of a surprise they kept secrets from him – why would they trust a nation who couldn't even control his own addiction?

"This time, this time will be different," he muttered, rounding the corner through a large entryway.

He stepped into an abandoned ballroom; only used when Russia hosted "family reunions" or party guests. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, throwing miniature rainbows onto the velvet red walls. Windows ran along its length, stretching nearly from floor to ceiling. Past the frozen trees lining the drive-in and the ornate iron gate to Russia's property, Raivis could see the hazy skyline of Moscow tucked in a sea of white. As he neared the windowsill, his vision was flooded with the bright yellows and green patches of Russia's sunflower collection. They lined the windows in a forest of color, broad leaves casting dappled shadows onto the polished wood floor. Although Raivis had spent hours in this room scrubbing the windows and dusting cobwebs from the chandelier, he was strictly forbidden from touching Russia's sunflowers. Tending to them was the only chore his master actually did himself.

Raivis knelt in the shade and unwound the satchel from his shoulders. He placed it on the ground with a faint clink, throwing open the flap and reaching in to pull out a glass bottle. It was slightly battered, the label torn and covered in a fine layer of dust. The liquid inside glowed a warm golden color, white foam bubbling at the surface. Raivis took a bottle opener from his pocket and pried off the lid with a short hiss. "You think it's fun to get me drunk?" he muttered, hovering it over a pot and glaring up at the sunflower petals. "Let's see how they like it." As Raivis tipped the bottle, golden liquid guzzled out of the neck and into the soil. His heart ached at the sight of it – all that beautiful alcohol he had been so careful to hide, being wasted… Raivis turned his head away, determined not to change his mind. He shook the last drops into the pot and tucked it back into the satchel. There were at least a dozen beers, and he needed to get rid of them before lunch.

Labi, he thought, popping the next lid with a hiss. Once I finish with this, I can hide the satchel in the hall closet. Then I should have enough time to beat the library rugs before –

"Raivis!"

Raivis's blood ran cold, jerking his head to see the figure standing in the doorway. Shit, how did I not hear him coming down the hall!?

Although Estonia and Latvia had been almost in-step over the course of history, Eduard was blessed with something that Raivis lacked: height. He was the tallest of the Baltics, and always carried himself with impeccable posture. Resting on his nose was a pair of black-wire glasses so clean, the lenses were invisible save for a glare. Looking at Estonia's history, most nations would take Eduard to be a complacent servant. But Raivis had seen first-hand the fire in his brother's eyes during the War of Independence. In fact, if it hadn't been for the steely determination of Estonian troops, Raivis may not have been able to win his own freedom. This is why, upon the sight of Eduard standing in the doorway, he nearly dropped the beer bottle in fright.

"What are you doing?"

"I, um… Well I thought, you know, since we t-talked about it – um…" Raivis gave up trying to play innocent. "I'm sorry, Eduard, I really wanted to take some home, and I had been saving my money, and – !"

"Is that from Prague?"

Raivis shrank into himself. I'm dead, I am so dead he is going to kill me! "Well…y-yes, but I'm not drinking it, I swear! I-I'm never drinking again, Eduard, I promise, I'm getting rid of it, see?" He picked up the bottle and held it over the pot.

"Wait!"

Raivis looked up, confused. "What?"

Eduard rushed over to him with long strides and snatched the bottle from his hands. He turned it over and read the label, brow furrowed in concentration. "This is still good. Are there more?"

Raivis's mouth fell open at the unexpected question. He stared at his brother, who continued to look on with genuine expectation of an answer. He was so confused – why wasn't Eduard launching into a lecture on the pitfalls of alcoholism? "Yeah in the satchel, b-but I was going to get rid of them, I swear!"

Eduard knelt down, bottles clinking as he sifted through the bag. "In that case, I assume you won't be needing them anymore?"

"W-well… no…"

Sharp eyes darted up to meet his. "Then you won't mind if I use them?"

Use them? For what? Then suddenly Raivis recognized that spark in Eduard's eyes, the excited urgency in his voice. Only one thing ever managed to bring his brother back to his old, innovative self. "Are you… planning something?"

The hint of a smile rested on Eduard's lips. "More or less." Raivis opened his mouth to ask more, but the Estonian cut in, "And I can't tell you what it is."

Raivis's heart sank. "Oh," he said, eyes falling to his lap. This again.

"Raivis." He looked up to see that Eduard's expression had softened. "I know this is frustrating for you. But you're just going to have to trust me."

Raivis appreciated the sympathy, but his brother had it all wrong. Of course he trusted Eduard – the problem was that Eduard didn't trust him! But for all the times Raivis had spoken his mind, he wasn't sure how to communicate this. His history with the Estonian went back over a thousand years. Their relationship didn't exactly start out that great – tribal wars had ravaged the land as they both scrambled for more influence. But that all changed with the crusades. Raivis and Eduard found themselves at the mercy of greater powers, and so with nobody else to turn to, they became fast friends. Even when they had been split between occupiers, he had Eduard frequently wrote and visited each other, until they readily considered themselves brothers. Eduard had been the most important person in Raivis's life for centuries – protecting him, comforting him, supporting him.

But that's why it stung when his brother seemed oblivious to Raivis's efforts. Eduard's the one always telling me to stop drinking – does he even care that I'm trying?

Raivis managed to pull his lips into a faint smile. "I trust you."

Eduard slung the satchel over his shoulder, then glanced at the half-empty bottle of beer. Raivis was surprised when his brother handed it to him. "I'll let you take care of that one." The glitter in Eduard's eyes seemed to add, Since you were going to dump it anyway – isn't that right?

The unspoken comment felt like a slap to the face. Raivis took the bottle from his brother with a quiet, "Thanks."

Eduard turned to leave, the bottles clinking in the satchel as he made his way towards the ballroom entrance. As Raivis watched him go, suddenly his throat clogged with panic. "Eduard, wait!"

The Estonian turned around, his sharp gaze causing Raivis to fidget.

"Don't – don't drink it, okay? I don't want you to end up like me! Please… just… d-don't drink it…"

Eduard's face softened. "I know this wasn't your fault, so don't be hard on yourself. We're going to get to the bottom of this."

"You mean you're – "

"Shhh," Eduard placed a finger to his lips, his smile turning mischievous. "In time, Raivis. In time." With that, he turned on his heels and disappeared around the corner.

Raivis stared at the spot where his brother had stood. Did that really just happen? He sighed, puffing his lips in a pout. It amazed him how he and Eduard were so different. Raivis was an open book – if he was thinking something, it usually came out of his mouth. It had gotten him into trouble with Russia countless times, but it also meant Eduard knew pretty much everything about him. Eduard, on the other hand, was so reserved that often it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. And that bothered Raivis, because he knew the Estonian was always thinking – always calculating or planning or profiling. Raivis had wondered countless times what it would be like to step into Eduard's mind, to see the vast storage of statistics and logic. But, in the end, Raivis had learned to accept it would only confuse him.

With a sigh, he lifted the last bottle in a toast. "To the success of Eduard's plan… whatever it is. Priekā!" And without giving himself a chance to change his mind, Raivis put the beer to his lips and drank until there wasn't a drop left.

History Notes

Eduard's Notebook:
Because production in the Soviet Union was controlled by the State and not by demand, this meant there was often a shortage of consumer products. If you wanted to make a big purchase like a car or an apartment, you would have to put your name on a waiting list. The average wait for a car was TEN YEARS. Similarly, it was also hard to get everyday products in stores. An underground system developed called "блат," in which bartering, favors, or bribing could get you products that would otherwise be impossible to access. This culture of corruption also permeated Soviet bureaucracy, and bribing became the law of the land in terms of getting anything done.

How powerful was Lithuania?
It's hard to imagine now, but Lithuania was one of Europe's greatest powers even before the Commonwealth. At its height, the Grand Duchy of Lithuania (1236-1569) included present-day Belarus and Ukraine, stretching from the Baltic to the Black Sea. The Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth (1569-1795) was also a force to be reckoned with, and they defeated big powers like the Teutonic Knights and the Russians in battle. It should be noted, that both the Duchy and the Commonwealth were multi-ethnic entities, and their rulers often switched between Lithuanians/Poles/Belorussians/Ukrainians. So Toris's high position of power would have been closer to shared partnerships than absolute rule. (Sources: Trakai Castle Museum, National Historical Museum of the Republic of Belarus)

Why do Eduard and Raivis speak German?
What were later to be called "Baltic Germans" appeared in present-day Latvia and Estonia with the Northern Crusades in the 12th and 13th centuries. They systematically conquered and settled the area, founding major trading centers like Riga in 1201. This was the start of 700 YEARS during which the German aristocracy ran infrastructure, education, and government while the local "Latvian" and Estonian people farmed the land as serfs. Latvian and Estonian were considered to be peasant languages, and German remained the working language of the area until Russification started in the 1880's. Even after serfdom was abolished in 1861, Latvians and Estonians had to change their last names and speak German if they were going to be respected in society.

Latvian/Estonian Wars of Independence:
Starting in the late 1850's, Latvians and Estonians worked their way into the middle class, and despite resistance from the Baltic Germans began publishing the first Latvian/Estonian newspapers and formed ethnic student groups. It was during this time that the Latvian/Estonian flags were created. This new national identity, in combination with the collapse of the Russian Empire in 1917, sparked the Latvian/Estonian Wars of Independence. (1918-1920) This was particularly rough for Latvia, whose population had fled to Russia during WWI, and whose main fighting force (The Latvian Riflemen) were in service to the Bolsheviks. Even worse, the Baltic Germans were in full support of Imperial Germany and wanted to take over Latvia for themselves. But with help from the British fleet, Estonian troops from the North and Polish troops from the South, the national Latvian forces were able to kick out the Germans, the Bolsheviks, AND the Whites in order to secure independence on August 11, 1920. (Sources: The Latvian Saga by Uldis Ģērmanis and Estonia and the Estonians by Toivo U. Raun)

AN: Since this is Raivis's first scene, I thought I would give some Latvian culture tips. 1) Say "Labi" as much as you can. This is the Latvian word for "okay" and can get you very far. 2) "Priekā" is the Latvian word for "cheers!" and 3) During the winter, Latvians wear these crocheted scarves with traditional pagan symbols in the red-and-white of the Latvian flag. The area I live in has a lot of non-ethnic Latvians, and as a result pretty much everyone speaks Russian. But whenever I walk into a store wearing that scarf, I'm greeted with "Labdien!" instead of "Здраствуйте!" because they think I'm ethnic Latvian. Even in Lithuania, I held the door open for someone and they said, "Paldies!" (Thank you in Latvian) So if you ever want to successfully infiltrate Latvia... all you have to do is wear that scarf ;)

Thanks for reading, see you next week!