[October 24 Prompt: Ivan the Fool]
Once upon a time, in a kingdom full of magic where birds and beasts sometimes spoke, there lived three brothers. One year, the brothers were faced with a most mysterious problem: something was trampling their fields at night and ruining their harvest. The two older brothers decided to stand guard at night, but when the storms blew over the field they hid in fright.
That left the youngest brother, Ivan, who was considered the fool of the family-
"I knew it!"
Russia glanced up from his book. "Excuse me?"
"I knew he was going to be named Ivan," America said with just a hint of smugness. For someone who was propped up in bed with a thermometer sticking out of his mouth, he looked very pleased with himself. "Your fairy tales are always about some guy named Ivan. Every single time! Do you have any fairy tales where the main guy isn't named Ivan?"
"Of course I do, I have plenty-"
"But every single one you read today has been about an Ivan. What gives, man?"
"It is a very common name-"
"It's also your human name. Is there some conspiracy going on here?"
"No more talking until we are done taking your temperature."
"It's been in there forever! It's gotta be done by now."
"And you have been talking half the time, which damages the results. Why do you think I have been telling you stories? It was supposed to keep you calm and quiet, but now I see I would have more luck convincing the sun to not set in the evening."
"Such a drama queen. C'mon, just check it already."
Russia heaved a long suffering sigh, put down the book of fairy tales and plucked the thermometer out of America's mouth. "Hm, 38.8."
"Jesus Christ! I've been feeling chilled all day, but I didn't know I was that cold! Get me some more blankets."
"That is in Celsius. You have a fever."
"...I knew that. Just pulling your leg."
"Da, da. More blankets would not be good for you at this point."
"Party pooper." Any further comments were broken off into a coughing fit. Russia was at his side in an instant, thumping him on the back.
"Better?" he asked, when the fit had passed.
"Not even close," America moaned, flopping back on the heap of pillows. "I feel like shit."
Russia pet his hair soothingly before dropping his hand down to rest against America's overheated forehead. "I will get you some vodka, and then we can continue your story, da?"
"I hate to break this to you, but I don't think vodka is gonna do any good here."
"You underestimate the versatility of vodka. You can mix it with hot water and inhale the steam to make breathing easier. You can gargle it to kill the germs. You can mix it into a drink to sooth your throat. It can be used as a vapor rub, a disinfectant, and a-"
"Alright, alright!" America cut him off, waving his hand weakly. "You're crazy about the stuff, I got it."
Russia sighed again, tempted to stick around and defend vodka's honor a bit longer. It would have been a lost cause on America at the best of times, and so he admit defeat for the time being and retreated to the kitchen in search of more ingredients for a homemade cold remedy. Lacking the traditional elements (except for vodka) he improvised until he had produced something that would probably make the paint peel off his walls if he let it sit too long.
"Oh my god, what is that?" America groaned when Russia reappeared with the deadly cold remedy. "I can smell it all the way across the room! No way am I drinking that."
Russia looked down at the cup. The contents gave a suspicious burble. "Ah. Maybe it would be better if you just breathed in the vapors?"
America took the mug doubtfully and gave it a cautious sniff. "Urg. It smells like a mix between booze and nuclear waste."
"But I am certain it will kill your cold!" Russia put in with a hopeful smile.
"It'll probably kill me too,"America grumbled, wincing as he took another whiff of the mystery liquid. "Whatever, you better get back to your story before I expire. You were just telling me about some dummy named Ivan."
Russia huffed and cracked open the book again.
Ivan would have been happier sitting in a corner and singing songs as loud as he could, but he dutifully stood watch when it was his turn to guard the field. Ivan waited and waited under the moonlit sky, until at last he saw the one who had been damaging their crops: a snow-white horse. Ivan leapt on the back of the horse, and no matter how the horse bucked and struggled, Ivan held on-
"This is weird. I mean, you're good with horses. This Ivan is good with horses. Coincidence?"
"Da. Hush. Keep smelling the cold remedy. Or sip it, if you feel brave enough."
"Oh ho, is that a challenge? Well watch this! ...Augh! Ack!"
"Ah, spit it out! Here, in the trash can-"
"Blech! It's ten time worse than its smell! What the hell did you put in it?"
"...Let us continue the story, da?"
At last Ivan was able to subdue the horse. But the horse pleaded with Ivan to be set free. In exchange for its freedom, the horse promised Ivan two steeds with golden hair, and a pony with two humps on its back and long ears, who could be Ivan's best friend. Ivan agreed. He liked the idea of having a pony for a friend, as there were few who wanted to be friends with a fool-
"Aw."
"What?"
"Nothing. You're just cute."
"...America, you do not think I am the character in the story, do you?"
"Eh."
"...I have plenty of friends. I do not need a pony to be my friend."
"Sure you don't."
Ivan and his brothers took the golden horses into town to sell, but along the way Ivan saw a strange light. He rode his pony closer, only to find the glowing feather of a firebird. The pony warned him to leave the feather along, but Ivan took it anyway, tucking it under his hat-
"What a dumbass. He should have listened to his magical talking pony."
"America, please stop interrupting."
The brothers arrived at the fair, and everyone gathered around to see their magnificent golden steeds. Even the tsar had heard about them, and when he saw the beautiful horses, he immediately bought them. But as the tsar's grooms tried to lead the horses away, they broke free and ran back to Ivan's side. Seeing that the horses were loyal to Ivan, the tsar asked him to come work at the royal stable. Ivan agreed, as long as he was allowed to sleep as much as he pleased-
"And there's another thing! This Ivan and my Ivan both like to sleep! ...Sorry, carry on."
Ivan did a good job at the stable, although his singing drove everyone mad-
"Was he singing the Trololo song?"
"America, do you want me to read you the story or not?"
"I do. Sorry. I'll be quiet."
The royal chamberlain, however, didn't like Ivan one bit. He watched Ivan closely to see if he would make any mistakes. One day, while spying on Ivan, he caught sight of the firebird's feather. The chamberlain ran back to tsar to tell him about the feather. The tsar called Ivan before him, and demanded that Ivan bring him the firebird himself. If he didn't, Ivan would lose his head! Ivan left the palace, terrified and in tears, and told the pony all his troubles-
"What a jerkass. Poor Ivan. At least he's got a pony for a buddy. Y'know, if someone's ever bullying you like that, you can come talk to me too. I'm a way better friend than a talking pony. ...Quit laughing, I totally am!"
The pony promised to help Ivan with his task. Under the pony's instruction, they rode out to a brook near a beautiful silver mountain, where the firebird's favorite watering hole was located. Ivan mixed together millet and wine, and put it in a trough for the firebird to drink. When one bird began to drink the mixture and became woozy, Ivan threw it into a sack and rode back to the tsar.
"Yeah! Score one for the little guy!"
Ivan presented the bird to the tsar, who was very pleased. This only made the royal chamberlain even more jealous. A few weeks later, the chamberlain heard the servants gossiping about a tsar-maiden in a faraway kingdom who was stunningly beautiful. The chamberlain went to the tsar with this story, and told him that Ivan had been bragging that he could get that beautiful maiden for himself. Again the tsar summoned Ivan, demanding that he find the maiden for him, or it would be off with his head! Ivan left the palace in a sorry state again, but once more the pony promised to help him-
"Damn, that's a good pony. Better than a dog, huh? I should get a talking pony."
"Do you intend to be sucked into a few impossible fairy tale quests any time soon?"
"Probably not."
"Then you do not need a talking pony."
"Yeah, I got you. Who needs a pony to help me out when I've got a Russia."
"..."
Ivan followed the pony's directions to the far away kingdom, and set up a tent with dinner and sweets to lure the maiden near. Sure enough, the girl came wandering into the tent. Ivan captured her, and took her back to the tsar. But when the tsar begged the maiden to marry him, she refused. At last she agreed to marry him only if he brought her back a ring she had lost in the ocean. And so-
"Lemme guess. The tsar makes Ivan go get it, and threatens to cut off his head if he doesn't. And the pony helps him again. Right?"
"Da, you are catching on."
Ivan and the pony went out to the seaside to search for the ring. Along the way, they met a sea monster, who helped them retrieve the ring. But when they returned to the tsar, the maiden still refused to marry him, because he was too old for her.
"Ha, sucks to be him."
According to the maiden, the tsar could regain his youth by dipping himself into three cauldrons, full of boiling water, boiling milk, and ice water.
"America, that might be a good cure for your cold too. Shall we try it? For science?"
"Ha. Cute. Shut up and finish the story."
The tsar ordered Ivan to try the method first, to make sure that the magic worked. Ivan surely would have been boiled to death, but the pony dipped his muzzle into each cauldron first. Ivan went in to each cauldron, and when he finally emerged from the last, he had been transformed into a very attractive man.
"Ah ha, so this is a story about you! So the reason you're so cute and handsome is because of some crazy pony magic? ...Oh my god, are you blushing?"
"STOP INTERRUPTING."
Believing the magic would work on him too, the tsar tore off his clothes and jumped into the cauldron, but was instantly boiled alive. Ivan and the maiden were married instead, and became the rulers of the land. And they lived-
"Happily every after?"
"Da," Russia confirmed with a little smile, closing the book.
"Good! That's my kind of ending," America sighed happily, reclining against the pillows.
"I am glad to have entertained you. Do you feel any better?"
"Maybe a little. It's totally not because of your cold remedy from hell, though."
Russia glanced over at the cup, which America had left on the bedside table. It appeared to be slowly melting the plastic. "Ah," he said guiltily. "It might be a bit too potent for consumption. I will make you tea instead."
"Bleh, I hate tea."
"Have you ever tried my tea? It is much better than England's, I promise."
"Welp, guess I could give it the old college try."
"I appreciate your spirit! And if you are good and drink all your tea, I will tell you another story."
"About some schmuck named Ivan?"
"...Possibly."
"Heh. Hey, question time for Ivan. If it was between me or the beautiful maiden in the story, which one would you marry?"
Russia made a rather hasty exit of the room, face as red as a beet. The fever was no doubt burning up America's brain.