The morning after the meeting, Russia woke up and wished he hadn't. He tried to sit and felt his headache getting worse. Swallowing, he found his throat to be dry and painful. The Russian man groaned and flopped back down against the pillows.
His noisy complaints alerted Belarus, who was currently busy brushing her hair in front of the mirror of her dressing table, but as soon as she became aware of Ivan's distress, she dropped her hairbrush with a clatter and stood up hastily, scurrying to her Beloved Big Brother's side. "Vanya?" She enquired tentatively as Ivan whined and pulled the blankets tighter around him, hugging the pillows close.
"Is something bothering you? What is wrong?!" The persistent Belarusian demanded to know, gently tugging back the covers. As she did so, her slender fingers grazed his normally pale cheeks and she frowned in obvious concern. Ivan's face was flushed and hot, burning up against her hand. Natalya arched one pale blonde eyebrow in thought, then put two and two together. "Brother has a cold." She concluded.
The Russian glared at the World in general through one half-open violet eye. He gave a croaking cough, cleared his throat and swore loudly in his mother tongue.
"Poor Darling Brother..." Belarus clucked sympathetically, stroking his face again. "I will look after you now, Moy Brat, worry not." She leant in and kissed his forehead softly. "Do you want anything, Dearest?"
"I want to feel better," Ivan muttered uncharacteristically grumpily. But he did smile slightly at his Little Sister. She was trying her best to help him after all. "But if I cannot feel better right now, I can have my Nata, da? That might help."
Natalya's face lit up and she nodded, kissing him again. "I will stay, Big Brother, my Precious. Of course I will stay for you." The Belarusian sat down on the bed beside him, running her fingers through his hair and gazing at his face as his eyelids flickered he began to fall back to sleep. She didn't care if she got ill too, she didn't care about the other things that might need attending to today. She only cared about her Beloved Brother and husband.
It wasn't unusual for the more than a little obsessive personification of Belarus to focus only on the Russian object of her affections, but Natalya grew ridiculously protective of Ivan whenever he was unwell or inconvenienced. She took it as a personal insult or attack and would immediately attempt to fix the problem for him. In this case, she could not. And Ivan wasn't truly ill, as such. It was just a common cold, so the Belarusian couldn't fight it on his behalf. Though she was sorely tempted to fight his Allies, blaming them for bringing germs and illness to her 'perfect Darling Big Brother'.
Her heart burned with sympathy and she lay back by his side, watching over him as he slept. Wrapped in the blankets and curled up, Ivan looked just like a child as he slumbered. The Female Nation stroked his hair softly again, sighing happily. Of course, she admonished herself mentally, she could never, ever be truly happy while her Russia was unwell, but she was very content that this sweet, adorable little angel was hers and hers alone at last, and that he finally admitted that he wanted - needed - her by his side.
Natalya's fingers curled gently around soft strands of Ivan's ashen blond hair as she lay in bed at his side, slowly zoning out as she entered an odd, reflective frame of mind. Her thoughts travelled back through time to the years she had spent fighting to convince her Treasured One that they were soul mates, destined to be together forever as husband and wife.
Her mind strayed to her screaming, shouting, coercing and threatening. She winced as she recalled breaking things, running after the Russian with weapons in her hands and desperation in her mind, scratching at his door and pleading with him to let her into his home and his heart. She remembered sleeping in the cold on his doorstep on nights when he refused, feeling Winter whispering in her ears, threatening to freeze her to death.
Belarus pulled the bedclothes around her with a little shiver and moved on to warmer thoughts. She rolled onto her side, close against Ivan as she watched him snoozing and thought back to a day when, like many other occasions, she'd forced her way into his home and hurried to his side. They'd argued. She'd actually cried, a silly, weak thing she hardly ever allowed herself to do.
And then...She'd finally let out all her deepest, darkest, most hidden feelings. The whole intense truth of what she really felt for him, not with sharp knives and chilling chants but with simple words and brute honesty. And her Precious Russia had revealed what she had always hoped but never actually suspected. That he loved her back, not just as his Little Sister, but as his fiancée and soon after as his wife.
Natalya felt giddy just remembering their first true emotional experience as husband and wife...Their wedding dance, which had been, as far as she was concerned (and according to what Ivan had confessed later, although he may just have been trying to appease his wife to avoid her zealous interrogation), an expression of their love for one another. She summoned up the memories...
Hold on to him, never let him go, savour this moment together. As she gripped her partner's arms and gazed into his eyes, that was all Natalya Rusovna Braginskaya was thinking of, and probably all she was capable of thinking of right now. She even barely felt him spin her around, barely heard the music playing, the footsteps of the other dancers, nor the laughter and chatter of those who had chosen not to dance.
Nothing cut through her own little bubble of rare but golden bliss to attack her. Except it wasn't golden, but Amethyst, like his eyes. Deep purple and precious, cherished close to her heart.
A small smile crept over her face, as rare as this experience, and to her dancing partner, husband, brother, and in her eyes, everything, just as 'golden', precious, perfect.
As he whirled his brand new wife and devoted little sister across the dance floor, Ivan Braginsky was also having a little difficulty paying attention to anything other than the woman in his arms. More specifically, the Union State they had agreed to enter into about an hour ago.
It was an unexpected agreement to the rest of the World, as Ivan had always seemed somewhat reluctant to marry his sister, Belarus, to say the least. To Natalya, it was a blissfully sweet surrender, making true her lifelong dreams.
And to him? To him it was giving in, something Russia didn't normally do, losing face, raising questions and eyebrows. And yet...it made him happy. Because truthfully, secretly, he had wanted to say 'yes' to Belarus many, many times. But he had never done it.
Not because everyone would point and say 'incest'. Yes, he'd thought of that, but he knew he could handle it. No, the Russian man's motives lay in his own thoughts about his sister.
He simply didn't believe that she really, truly, actually wanted to be married to him. Maybe she was confused or just didn't realise what he thought. That he wouldn't be a good husband. He had hesitated several times when she had come calling, had considered telling her that he loved her, but had faltered, unable to bear the idea of ever disappointing his Dear Little Sister.
Until she'd gone and set up some kind of 'Union State' agreement. He had been confused and a little hurt that she didn't consult him, yet somehow pleased that he couldn't blow his chances to agree with his own silly insecurities.
Since then, they had done an awful lot of talking, with a very simple conclusion.
They were in love.
The music playing in the background faded out, snapping him back from his thoughts, only to find himself holding his bride in the pose that mirrored their final dance move. Natalya was leaning back in his arms, a glazed over look in her eyes and an unnerving fixed smile on her face.
Brilliant, creepy 'I am planning our future together' Belarus was back. Whatever happened to sweet 'you love me, I'm so happy' Belarus?
It was at that moment that someone shouted out. "Aren't you going to kiss her?" In a very sarcastic and slightly rude tone, before following it up with very obviously false kissy noises.
Ivan turned to glare but wasn't sure which guest made the remark. That is the trouble when the whole World as at your wedding reception.
Anyway, he was tugged back around to face his wife by the aforementioned Female Nation, who looked up at him expectantly. "He is, not that that's any of your business." She said in answer to the shouted comment.
Feeling himself blush as he looked down into her eyes, Russia paused. What should he do? People were being very rude, and it was beginning to bug him. That comment had been almost as annoying as when America had referred to his darling bride as 'Beauty the Beast' earlier.
On the other hand, said 'darling wife' wanted a kiss. Not only was kissing Natalya enjoyable, but he knew from experience that she could be very scary when she wasn't getting what she wanted.
So he leant in and kissed her softly.
Natalya smiled against his lips. She knew how to get what she wanted from her beloved Brother. Then the Belarusian swung upwards, flipping her older sibling around with remarkable ease and kissing him roughly, sliding her tongue into his mouth as she switched their kiss to a passionate make-out session.
When eventually the couple rose for air, Natalya flipped off the goggle-eyed, stunned-looking audience of Nations that were their wedding guests, before heading to fetch her blushing, bashfully grinning husband a drink, since he seemed incapable of moving for the time being.
Yes, Natalya recalled to herself as she lay at Ivan's side, that perfect, special day had been an overwhelming expression of their pure dedication to one another and had signalled the beginning of their lives together. Even with dumb wedding guests...She scowled to herself for a brief second, they were probably the same imbeciles who were responsible for making her Darling ill.
Nonetheless, here she was, united with Vanya since that sacred day. He had even given her her beautiful little babies, she noted as her eyes flickered up from the love of her life's gorgeous face to check on the cradle in the corner. She gave another sigh. Now was truly a perfect time of her life.
Eventually, the spell was broken. The Russian man swiftly recovered from his cold, which Moscow counted as a relief as it meant she no longer had to 'babysit' Minsk and take care of all his work for him.
But even as life returned to normal, the usually cynical, hardnosed Belarusian Republic remained utterly content with her day-to-day life. During those few days of watching over her Love and her baby son, while seeing that not only had Brother Darling given her her 'babies', but one of them was growing into a capable young woman and had successfully cared for Minsk for her, Natalya had come to one simple, albeit a little smug, conclusion.
She had everything she'd ever wanted.