When Matthew stepped into the parlor the next morning, he was surprised to find not only one, but two Germans wearing military uniform and equally dire expressions. Ludwig looked serious and imposing dressed in the dark blue current day German navy uniform with golden stripes on the sleeves of his jacket. Gilbert had donned his Prussian blue uniform, his left hand toying with the iron cross as he paced the room. The greatest surprise, however, was Antonio leaning against the wooden banister of the stairs, dressed in jeans and a white shirt and wearing an unusually glum expression.
"Good morning everyone," Matthew said, "mind telling me what this is all about?"
"Morning, Mattie," Gilbert said, stopping to look at him. "This is for your own protection, little fool. I'm not going to let you confront Ivan unprotected. I would have dearly loved to call your brother, but I'm not about to start the Third World War. So this will have to do."
Matthew shook his head, unsure whether to laugh or be annoyed. "Okay, Gilbert, it's actually very sweet of you to worry so much, but don't you think this is a bit weird? I mean, Ludwig I understand, since he's your brother, but Antonio…? What does he have to do with anything?"
"He's my best buddy," Gilbert said, crossing his arms in front of his chest.
"I'm always glad to help," Antonio put in.
"It's getting even better," a smooth tenor voice said in perfectly accent-free English, "since Gilbert asked me to come along."
A slender, dark-haired young man stepped into sight, entering from an adjoining room. He, too, was dressed in a military uniform, though of a rather unfortunate color that only with much goodwill could be described as olive green.
"Ariel?" Matthew asked incredulously. "What are you doing here?"
The human personification of the state of Israel smiled at him. "Well, I hate Ivan almost as much as I hate Gilbert."
"That doesn't explain why you're here," Matthew insisted.
"I called in a favor," Gilbert said.
"A favor?" Matthew asked incredulously. "Your people tried to wipe his from the face of the Earth before he even got to be a nation, so what favors could he possibly owe you?"
"That's between Gilbert and me," Ariel said. "Besides – I have always been a nation. I just didn't have a place to stay. You others did your very best from preventing me of settling down." Once again he smiled, but there was nothing pleasant about that smile.
"That's probably because you're so fanatically fixated upon a little piece of dust and rock and a few olive trees by the Mediterranean Sea," Antonio said. "That place has been a bloody battleground for millennia."
"Hey, it's not my fault that everybody believes I'm worth fighting over," Ariel said, shrugging, "For as long as I can remember, people have either wanted to annihilate me and mine or to rob us of our lands. But-" he spread his hands – "see, I'm still around. That which does not kill us, makes us stronger."
"Was that Hitler or Stalin?" Gilbert asked, frowning.
"Actually, it was Nietzsche. And you should know that, Gilbert, he was one of yours. Now, shall we have another tiresome discussion about my history and existence, or can we get on with things? Where is Roderich, by the way?"
"I'm here," Roderich announced from the top of the stairs. Matthew turned around to find him eyeing the assembled nations critically. "I see you all dressed for the occasion. Why not don full dress uniform, though, while you were at it? This is an official visit, is it not? And Ari, that thing you're wearing is god-ugly. Was there nothing else to be found in your extensive stores?"
"That 'thing' is what my people proudly wear to war and die in, Roderich," Ariel said, "and I don't care if it upsets your fashion sense. You would look ridiculous in a uniform of any kind, so don't tell me how to wear mine." He clapped his hands. "So. To Russia it is, or were you going to offer us breakfast?"
"I will gladly offer you breakfast some other time – when you don't come unannounced."
"Fair enough," Ariel said, nodding.
Matthew spent the plane ride next to the surprisingly chipper Israeli, who told him that apart from having to spend the day with Gilbert, he was actually pleased about this little trip. "It's good to get out every once in a while," he confided, "politics at home are a mess. I swear, if terrorists, hostile forces and the assorted madmen of the world do not manage to destroy my people, they will take over the task themselves. One would think that with all the fighting going on around them they would try to avoid fights among themselves, but just the opposite." He shook his head. "It's sad, really. But I love them anyway. Even if they are a bit crazy. I can't help it."
"I think we all love our people," Matthew said diplomatically. Like most other Western nations he was always on tiptoes around Ariel. It was all too easy to say something that might be interpreted as racist or otherwise offensive. None of the other nations really knew what to make of Ariel, mostly because of his unique history. Ari of the many faces, they called him, and there was some truth in that.
"So," Ari said conversationally, "and you think you're in love with Ivan, is that right?"
Matthew squirmed in his seat. "Well… yes, I suppose so."
Ari shook his head. "Then Gilbert was right to call you a fool. Ivan will eat you alive, hair, skin and all. In love with him? Ha! I might as well declare my love for Gupta. With the one difference that I'm probably stronger than him and already bloodied his nose once or twice in the past. But you…? You don't stand a chance against Ivan."
"I don't want to fight him, though," Matthew said.
"You'll end up fighting for your life, for your very existence." Ari shrugged. "But that's your problem, right? It's really not my place to tell you what to do with your life. So long as your actions don't threaten me and mine, I'm okay with whatever you do, even if it's idiotic."
"Why… thank you." Matthew knew not what to make of that.
"You're welcome. Thanks for sitting with me, by the way. I was afraid I'd have to sit with Ludwig, and I try to avoid that. I make him terribly uncomfortable, poor chap, and in return, he makes me miserable. That history of ours makes it almost impossible to carry on a normal conversation that is not fuelled by guilt and bloody memories. He's even more careful around me than the rest of you lot, and that makes it very hard to get a straight sentence out of him."
"Ludwig feels terribly bad about what his people did to yours," Matthew said.
"I know," Ari replied, sighing. "And I'm not saying he shouldn't, but it gets a bit tedious sometimes." He gave a sudden laugh. "I rarely run into that problem with Ivan. He's usually pretty straightforward."
Matthew smiled sadly. "Yes, he is."
Even now it hurt to think about Ivan, the same sharp pain he had felt for weeks, ever since that fateful last meeting in Washington. What am I supposed to do if he refuses to see me? he wondered. Are there any other options, or is this perhaps my last chance to set things right? And what if he does agree to see me…? If the others are right, Ivan is trying to change his ways and save me… and by coming to him, will I not force him to give up on that? If so, is it wrong what I'm doing? It has to be…
"You have grown awfully quiet," Ari noted after a while. "Are you having second thoughts about this?"
"Yes," Matthew said honestly, "but I have to do it anyway. I cannot live with this uncertainty, it is driving me mad. And at the same time, I have this terrible feeling that I'm heading right into my own destruction and that it's not only incredibly stupid, but also absolutely pointless what I'm doing."
"I know the feeling," Ari said, grinning and slapping him on the shoulder, "I know it well. It is how I have felt for the last few decades or so. I've been fighting for my own survival, for my people, my pride, my right to exist and against pretty much all of my neighbors and the enemy within my own borders for so long that half the time I'm asking myself if maybe that's the only purpose of my life. And sometimes I just want to drop the weapons, close my eyes and say 'to hell with it all, I'm done with this. This is not who I am, who I want to be.' But do I have a choice? No. Because one can never go back, one can only move on. And winning a battle is so much more gratifying than losing one." He looked at Matthew sideways from intelligent dark eyes. "I am a firm believer in providence, you know. There has to be a reason for all the strange stuff that's happening. And I'm pretty sure there is a reason why you fell in love with Ivan and he apparently with you. Whether it is a good reason or not, I do not know."
"That doesn't exactly make me feel better, Ari. What difference does it make, if in the end, people get hurt?"
"People always get hurt whenever anything happens to us," Ari said. "That's just the nature of things. But without things happening, there would be no change, and we would all remain frozen in place. Can you imagine a world without change? Humans would not survive it. They crave change, they need change. It's at the very core of their being. Without change, they cannot evolve, and they would have long since died out if they had been incapable of evolving."
"When did you become so wise, Ari?" Matthew asked.
"I've spent a lot of time watching people struggle and suffer, that's all," Ari replied, shrugging. "They are amazing creatures, humans. One can learn a lot from them. You should talk it over with Ivan; he and I have come to some very similar conclusions over the years."
"Ivan doesn't really like humans," Matthew said. That much he knew.
"I never said he did. As a whole, I don't particularly like them, either. But I do think they are fascinating." He bent over to look out of the window. "Oh! Is that already Moscow? It looks very… white from above."
Ivan did not own a house in Moscow; he owned a palace, or at least something that suspiciously looked like one. It was huge, lavishly decorated and on the whole rather impersonal, more a museum than a home.
Matthew looked around as he stepped into the entrance hall flanked by Ariel and Ludwig and wondered if this was why Ivan apparently preferred his house in St. Petersburg.
Ivan's human guards and servants had not dared to deny the six nations passage, even though they had orders not to let in any announced visitors. Natalia Alfroskaya, however, was not about to let anybody intrude upon or threaten her beloved brother. She fell upon them like a wrathful spirit and it took both Ludwig and Antonio to restrain her.
"Greetings, Natalia," Roderich said politely to the furious blonde. "You look well. Is your brother at home and presentable?"
Natalia gave an inarticulate snarl of rage, struggling against Ludwig's iron grip.
"I don't think she likes us being here," Ariel commented. "And frankly, I did not expect to see her. Unless I'm very much mistaken, her dealings with Ivan usually consist of him refusing her proposals and throwing her out of his house while she screeches like a madwoman and throws precious china vases at him."
"Yeah, well, my brother and I fight, too, and we still live together," Gilbert said, shrugging. "You don't have a sibling, Ari, so you wouldn't understand."
"Natalia," Matthew said, carefully approaching the furious woman, "we mean no harm to either you or Ivan. But I have to see him. It's very important."
"He doesn't want to see you, you imbecile!" Natalia hissed.
"I know that," Matthew said, inwardly shrinking beneath the blow she had dealt him with those words, "but I want to see him."
"That is because you are a suicidal fool," a hauntingly familiar voice said from the other end of the long room. It sent shivers down Matthew's back. Very slowly, he turned away from Natalia and lifted his eyes.
Ivan stood on the threshold, framed by the wooden doorframe like the painting of some medieval warrior king. He was richly dressed in black and red, with golden buttons sparkling in the lamplight and his pale blond hair a glorious mess of shiny silver threads. Other than that he looked ill, drawn and sleep-deprived.
"Ivan," Matthew muttered. He felt like crying or running across the room to throw himself at Ivan's feet, or better yet, into his arms, but he was frozen to the spot.
"Well, if it isn't the master of the house himself," Ari said. "Hello Ivan. You really should replace your guards. They look very threatening, to be sure, but they are so easily persuaded to let strangers into the house. We come bearing gifts, though." He negligently pointed at Matthew. "You lost something, didn't you? Well, he's back now. Though whether it's foolish or not, I really cannot say."
"Ariel," Ivan acknowledged him. "Gilbert. Ludwig. Antonio. And Roderich… I should have known that you had a hand in this. What's with the uniforms?"
"Well, Ludwig simply likes them, and Ari probably didn't have the time to change into something decent," Antonio said, grinning. "And as for Gilbert – he's wearing his because he knows that it looks good on him and that Roderich thinks it's kinky."
"Tonio! I most certainly do not!"Roderich blustered, just as Gilbert turned to look at him, asking: "You do? Well, that sure explains a lot. You could have told me, you know, I would have…"
"Gilbert, focus," Roderich hissed at the Prussian.
"Well, amusing as this is, I must ask all of you to get out of my house now," Ivan said. "If you have any serious business to discuss, make an appointment with my staff, and otherwise leave me alone. I do not care for surprise visits."
Matthew saw that his whole body was tense with the effort to control his feelings, that he was nearly trembling, trying to maintain his grip on himself.
"And please do release my sister," Ivan added. Reluctantly, Ludwig and Antonio let go of Natalia. Antonio had the good sense to put a safe distance between himself and her claws, but Ludwig paid for his slowness with a slap in the face that left a red stripe on his cheek.
"Mindless idiots," Natalia huffed and proceeded to add a few choice insults in what Matthew could only assume was her native tongue.
"Natalia, that will do," Ivan said sternly as if chastising a small child, "behave yourself. They may be unwelcome, but they are still my guests."
"You are an idiot, you know," Ari told Ivan conversationally, "they delivered you your heart's desire on a silver platter and you cast them as well as Matthew out of your house…? Make up your mind, Ivan. "
"I have," Ivan said, and Matthew noticed with a stab of pain that he was looking everywhere but at him. "I want all of you to leave. Now."
"Me, too?" Matthew asked, his voice barely above a whisper. He could feel something breaking inside of him, cracking into a thousand pieces like a mirror or a sheet of ice that someone has stepped on.
"You most of all," Ivan said. He sounded strained. "Ludwig, you're the only one of this lot that I trust to honor my wishes. Will you see to it that Matthew leaves my house and goes home?"
"I would, but I don't think he wants to leave," Ludwig said, "and I will not force him."
Ivan closed his eyes as if he were in pain, then nodded slowly. "Natalia, then. Dear sister, would you please see to it that Matthew is escorted out of the house and back home?"
Natalia grinned triumphantly at Matthew. It was a very ugly grin on such a pretty face. "With pleasure, dear brother."
Ivan had noticed the grin, too. "But safely, Natalia," he warned. "Safely and unharmed. If anything should happen to him on the way home, I will hold you personally responsible for it."
Natalia pouted at that. "The roads are slippery," she protested, "why should I care if he falls and breaks a leg?"
"Because I care," Ivan said, his voice as icy as the cold outside. "And you will do as you are told, or leave my sight."
"Fine," Natalia snapped. "I'll take care of your precious boy. Though I'd rather do it my way."
"Bitch," Gilbert said.
"Nobody asked you, you walking corpse!" Natalia snarled, whirling around to face him.
"That's a new one," Gilbert commented, red eyes narrowing, "I hadn't heard that one yet. I can still kick your ass, though."
"Wanna try?" Natalia taunted, sneering at him.
"I'd love to, but I don't hit girls in front of my baby brother. He's kinda squeamish about that," Gilbert replied with a negligent gesture towards Ludwig.
"Gilbert, Natalia, will you just shut up for a minute? Please." Matthew was past caring about his image or the fact that everybody in the room was suddenly staring at him, astonished at his words. "Nobody is taking me anywhere. I am sick and tired of being dragged around by people who think they know what's best for me. I'd like to remind you all that I am a sentient being and a sovereign nation and not a ragdoll." He was speaking to the general public, but looking at Ivan, who turned his eyes away, avoiding his gaze. And I am growing very tired of that, too, Matthew thought angrily. Just look at me, will you? Coward.
Matthew began walking towards him. Slowly, one step at a time. Ivan did not flinch backwards but looked like he wanted to. His entire body was so tense that Matthew began to wonder why he hadn't snapped and lost control yet.
"And you," he said more quietly, still approaching Ivan, "owe me an explanation. A nice, long, carefully worded explanation that tells me why the fuck you literally threw me out of that room in Vienna, and why you abandoned me, and why on Earth it's me coming to you, fighting for you, when you are supposed to be the strong one. Why are you doing this to me? I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to be in the middle of a goddamn international crisis, I never wanted to raise a hand against my brother, never wanted to defy my family and I certainly never wanted to come to bloody Moscow in the middle of winter, with an escort of people who think that I'm nuts to even do this, because you refuse to look me in the eye and talk to me. Merde!"
He was standing right in front of Ivan now, out of breath, with tears welling up in his eyes, staring up at the single most infuriating being he had ever met (including Alfred, and that surely was something).
Finally, Ivan looked at him. His violet eyes were wide and Matthew read fear in them, fear and loneliness and longing and incomprehension and despair, everything he felt himself was right there in Ivan's eyes. And Matthew knew what to do. It seemed like the simplest thing in the world, but it was one of the most difficult moves he had ever made: he got on tiptoes, put his arms around Ivan's neck and kissed the Russian full on the mouth.
Ta-da! I think we've all been waiting for that kiss for a long while...
I want to thank you again for all the lovely reviews you've left for this story! Reviews are like virtual chocolate, and I work a lot better on chocolate than I do without ;)
Also, I'd like to let you know that there now is a companion piece to this story called "International Relations". It mainly focuses on the Prussian-Austrian subtext of "Crimson Skies", but also on some of the other pairings.
By the way - Ariel would like to let you know that there's no connection whatsoever between him and the Mermaid...^^