Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

NyoRusEng: Mending Bridges

Meetings at Russia were always tense, but certain times of year could make them worse than others. And occasionally, there were certain nations that would be affected more than others. And right now, England was the one that suffered the most.

England flinched when a briefcase made contact with her head. She glared up at the culprit and saw Russia looking back with cold eyes before she went over towards her own seat. England sighed, rubbing the back of her head. This was going to be a long meeting.

England checked the date on her phone. Of course, she understood. Still, that didn't mean that she had to like it.

The meeting could begin, and as usual, it started with a speech from the host country. England had a bad feeling about this.

"I am pleased that all of you could make it here, to St Petersburg," Russia said. "I know that some of you must be confused why the meeting isn't in Moscow this time. Well, some of you probably do not know, and others do not care, but the anniversary of the Romanov family's deaths is this week. They are buried here, in St Petersburg, after a long time searching for them." She threw a look to England, who shrank back. "I never get to be here for the anniversary, and I hope that you all behave yourselves."

There was a subtle threat to all of the nations: Russia was under psychological stress due to the anniversary of the brutal executions of her former royal family, and anyone that caused her problems during this time would have to deal with her. And England knew what an angry Russia was capable of.

She threw a look towards the former Soviet nations, who all tensed under the threat. Yes, they knew it too. Better than most, England would wager.

This was going to be a long meeting.

…

Russia was on her way to the Peter and Paul Cathedral, a bouquet of roses in her hand. Her intention was to place a rose on each of the family's graves while apologising, as she'd done so many times, for not being able to save them. And while the Tsar had his problems, none of the children deserved that fate.

She could still remember when it happened, even if she hadn't been present for their execution. The Bolsheviks had sent her to Czechoslovakia for 'negotiations' that didn't go anywhere. And then, during that time, she experienced fiery pain all over her body, which she wasn't sure was similar to being shot or being stabbed. She only understood what was happening when she heard the screams in her head. It wasn't swift and it wasn't humane. And when she finally returned, no one would tell her what happened.

This was why she was angry with nations like England. She could have helped, but because she didn't offer them asylum, they were brutally murdered. England had been a coward focusing on her own self-preservation, which caused Russia to suffer. Even now, more than a century later, she could still hear their screams echoing in her mind.

She pushed all of these thoughts away when she reached the cathedral. She would show the Tsar and his family the proper respect, and since this was the first time she could attend on the anniversary, it was far more important for her to be calm of mind.

However, her calm abandoned her when she saw a sight that left her reeling in confusion.

England was there, and Russia could hear her mutter something under her breath. Russia couldn't make out the words, but she saw as England placed a wreath on top of one of the Romanov graves. There were other wreaths in her hands, and when Russia looked around, she saw more wreaths on other graves.

England had never shown that she felt guilt or remorse for not helping, so why was she doing this now? What was she playing at?

Russia watched her for a moment longer before she cleared her throat. England whipped around, eyes wide and dropping the wreaths.

"R-Russia!" she stammered. "How… How nice to see you. So… H-how long have you been standing there?"

"A while," Russia said, cocking her head to the side. "What are you doing? Since when do you care about my royal family?"

England flinched, before averting her eyes.

"I know I've said it before, but I am so sorry about what happened," England said. "And for not helping. But you must understand… I've experienced America's revolution and I've witnessed France's. I didn't think that I would have been able to handle something like that, and with tensions high after World War I, the risk was high."

"But you had no problem allowing me to suffer through it," Russia said.

"I know. I'm really sorry."

"I felt them die. Do you realise that? I heard their screams. And I couldn't help them. Do you know what that's like?"

"I've had monarchs being violently killed too, you know. So yes, I do know what it's like. And I can imagine what that must have felt like. I've read the accounts. It was brutal."

Russia crossed her arms. She didn't have to hear that.

"Why are you here?" Russia asked.

England looked down before picking up the dropped wreaths.

"I bring these every time I'm in your country," England explained. "I also order wreaths online every year for the anniversary."

Russia uncrossed her arms, a confused frown on her face.

"Why would you do that?" Russia asked.

"As I said, I feel horrible about what happened," England said. "I know this doesn't bring them back, and it doesn't make up for not helping them, but after the way they died, and how they had been buried originally, they deserve to have some dignity returned."

Russia stared at England for a moment longer before she closed her eyes, a small smile on her face.

"Thank you," she said.

England placed one of the wreaths on a grave again and started muttering. It took Russia a moment to realise that she was reciting a prayer for the person – little Alexei – and she must have done the same for the others. Warmth filled Russia's heart.

She was still angry at England, but at least she accepted that England felt bad about it, and that she wasn't as uncaring about everything as Russia thought. And perhaps now, they could start to have a better relationship again.

The prompt is: 'Fem!EnglandxFem!Russia (platonic). The British royal family, at the insistence of government officials, opted out of helping out the Tsar and his family during the Russian revolution, fearing a similar revolution. As we all know, the Russian royal family was executed by the Bolsheviks. This is the biggest reason why Russia wants to punch England in the face. Unbeknownst to Russia, England had been secretly putting a wreath on the grave of the Tsar and his family every year on the day of their deaths. Usually she orders them online but whenever she's in Russia for a conference she'll do it herself. Russia finds out about this and they hash things out with a deep conversation.'

So, it took some time to do this, partly because I was doing research, partly because I was channelling my younger self who did read up on this while in school (it was one of the few non-fiction books I'd read back then), partly because I was trying to think of a plot, and partly because I had to quell my outrage. As I said, I read up on this when I was younger, and the book described in detail what happened to them, from the shooting to the bayonets to the potential violation of Tsarina Alexandra's corpse. And I was still in primary school or early high school and I have an active imagination, so reading about this back then might have traumatised me in some regard.