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roesslyngTitle: Letters and Logic
Characters/Pairing: Estonia, Latvia, Lituania, Russia
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 2260
Summary: "Shortly after his birthday, Estonia receives a strange letter".
Other: Written for Estonia's birthday. Posted at the Hetalia main community. (Original entry)
Letters and Logic
It was three days after Estonia’s birthday. The celebration was over and it would be a while, at least, before the next time his little house would be subjected to an invasion of guests. Poland, Finland and the others had already said their good-byes, leaving him with well-wishes for another good year.
Finally, it was his brothers’ turn to leave.
Estonia hummed as he sifted through a fat stack of mail, which he had neglected for several days due to all the excitement of the celebrations. In the background he could hear Lithuania and Latvia doing last-minute packing, with all the usual fuss and comments of “Don’t forget to check under the bed for socks” and “Be sure you’ve packed everything – you always forget something, Latvia”. Soon, they would be finished and gone. Secretly, Estonia was somewhat thankful for that. Though he loved his brothers dearly, the past week had been incredibly busy and he was quite overdue for some time to himself and a day or two to catch up on much-needed rest.
While he waited for them to finish, Estonia separated his letters into neat piles. The cards made his eyes light up behind the lenses. Pleased to receive so many well-wishes from those who had been unable to actually visit him, Estonia sifted through the brightly-coloured envelopes, murmuring to himself. “Hm, Hungary, Belgium... Canada? How kind! I’m surprised he remembered me. Ah, France, Japan, America – ... wait. America? How unlike him.” Raising an eyebrow, he checked the return address twice. There was no doubt about it. “Lithuania-!” he called down the hall toward the spare bedrooms, holding in the laughter. “You sneak, you reminded America about my birthday, didn’t you?”
“I admit to nothing!” was his elder brother’s cheerful reply, followed by what sounded suspiciously like Latvia’s muffled giggling.
“Ah, I bet it’s a conspiracy! Yes, you both set down a secret plot to get the whole world to help you stuff my mailbox.” A laugh did escape him, and with a broad grin on his face, he continued sorting. “Ah, Switzerland, Greece – wait, who’s this one from— Seychelles? Oh, honestly, you two, you really did get everyone in on it, didn’t you?”
When he came to the last envelope he paused a moment, and stared at it.
Strange.
It was large, light green, and would have been rather unremarkable if not for the fact that it had no return address on it – nor his own address, either, nor a stamp or any marking of any sort whatsoever. Estonia turned it over and over in his hands, but found no indication of who had sent it.
Very odd, indeed. Well, he decided, there was only one way to determine what it was all about. Curiosity rising, he reached for the letter opener.
When Lithuania and Latvia stepped into the kitchen, their coats buttoned and their overnight bags slung over their shoulders, they found Estonia leaning against the counter with a letter in his hand and a rather worried expression on his face.
“Hey, are you all right?” Lithuania asked. An uneasy look crossed his face.
“I’m not sure,” Estonia replied. “Here.” He handed the letter to his elder brother, pursing his lips. “Read it. Tell me what you think.”
“Mm.” Lithuania stared at the paper for a moment while Latvia peered at it from his position beside him. The stationary was light green and printed with cheerful cartoon sunflowers. Before he so much as looked at the writing, he suspected what it might say; but upon seeing the Cyrillic letters neatly written in black pen, he had no doubt. “Dearest Estonia,” he read aloud. “I wish you many happy returns on your birthday.” The Russian words tasted like ash in his mouth.
“Well?” Estonia pushed his glasses up. His face was pale. “What do you think? It’s strange that he’d send something like that to me.”
Lithuania shook his head and handed the letter back to him. “Not as such,” he said, nibbling his lower lip thoughtfully. “He sent me one, too. I found it after you left last week.”
“And he sent me one, too,” Latvia murmured, clinging to Lithuania’s sleeve. “At my birthday, I mean. But I didn’t find it until afterward.”
Estonia eyed the both of them, unsure. “And nothing else has happened since then?” he asked.
Latvia shook his head, and Lithuania said, “No. Just the letter. Nothing else, and I haven’t seen him hanging around or anything like that, either.”
With a heavy sigh, Estonia set the letter down on the counter with the rest of his mail. The three of them stared at it, as if it might burst into flames at any moment.
“So what do we do?” he asked finally.
“Nothing.” At that comment, Estonia looked at his brother sharply. Lithuania simply shrugged. “Just nothing,” he repeated. “Take it as a message of good will. He sent you a friendly letter. Unless something else happens, just let it be.”
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Estonia protested. “Something’s going to happen; he wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t part of a plan.”
“My birthday was months ago, and nothing bad has happened to me yet,” Latvia supplied helpfully.
“He’s right, you know,” Lithuania said. “Nothing happened. And any way, since when has anything he has done ever made sense?”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sure I am.” Lithuania smiled. “So, don’t worry about it.” At that point, he turned to Latvia, and said, “Now, we’d best get going. You’ve remembered to pack everything?”
“Yes, brother.”
“Are you sure? Last time you forgot your wallet and we were halfway to Riga before you remembered you’d left it.”
“I swear, I have everything!”
“Go start the car, then,” Lithuania said, handing him the keys. “I just need a moment here.”
When Latvia was gone, Lithuania turned to Estonia once more, looking him up and down. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
Estonia shook his head. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I still don’t feel right about this.”
Sighing, Lithuania stepped toward him and drew his unresisting brother into his arms. “Oh, Eesti, Eesti,” he murmured as he hugged him tightly. “Don’t worry about this. He’s – well, you know how he is, but I think this is harmless.”
“Yes, but are you sure?” Estonia asked. In spite of his protests, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in him easing as he rested his head against his older brother’s shoulder.
“I’m as sure as I can be considering what we have to go by.” Lithuania squeezed him gently, then withdrew, offering him a bright smile. “So don’t worry. All right?”
Estonia responded with a shaky smile of his own. “All right,” he said, though he did not seem to believe it, not quite. “All right. I’ll try.”
A breeze mussed his hair. He stood on his front door step, arms wrapped around himself to block out the chill, waiting. The proper good-byes had been said, embraces exchanged again and again, well-wishes of “drive safely!” and “get some rest now, it’s been a busy week!” traded with so much love and affection. As Estonia watched the car pull out of his driveway, his heart sank, but he schooled his expression and smiled and waved at his brothers until they were down the street and gone. Then, sighing, he slipped back inside and pressed the door behind him.
Estonia padded into the kitchen on slippered feet. He intended to make tea, but paused at the sight of the pile of mail on the counter. It seemed to eye him suspiciously. He looked at it, and if he was the type of person to imagine such things he would have imagined that it was looking back. However, Estonia was not that sort of person.
He took the anonymous letter in his hands. Logic would dictate that he would throw it out and forget about it, take it as nothing, as Lithuania had instructed him to do. At that point in time, however, he didn’t feel very logical. It had been a very illogical morning. So instead of tossing it in the bin, he put it on the refrigerator, pinning it down with two practical, heavy magnets.
Then he stared at it.
This is ridiculous, Estonia thought. What was he trying to find? The letter and its cheery, cookie-cutter message made his skin crawl. The neat handwriting seemed to laugh at him, taunting.
Ridiculous.
There were things he needed to do. Being host to so many guests had left his house in disarray. Lithuania had washed the breakfast dishes for him, in spite of his protesting that he could very well do it himself; but there was still laundry, and vacuuming, and so many other things that needed attention.
He stared at the letter.
It did not stare back.
His brothers were gone. At that moment, Estonia thought, the last thing he wanted was to be at home, alone. He needed fresh air.
The cool morning air bit through his thick wool coat and whipped his cheeks as he walked, but Estonia didn’t mind it. Generally he could rely on the chill to clear the cobwebs from his mind and give him room to think. In this case, however, no matter how much he thought, the problem became no clearer.
It just didn’t process. There was no logic in it.
“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Estonia murmured to himself as he walked. The sender of that letter was one who was not governed by any logic whatsoever. His mind was not subject to the same laws of reason that other people bent to. To understand him would be to try to comprehend chaos, which was—
Estonia stopped. He stood still. What did he see out of the corner of his eye? Slowly, carefully, he turned his head, hardly daring to breathe.
A tall man stood nearby beneath a bare-branched oak tree. In the cold morning sun his blonde hair was bleached nearly white. His thick scarf was pulled up over his nose to keep the breeze from nipping at it, but with the top portion of his face visible there was no question that he was watching.
You can walk away, Estonia thought to himself. You can walk away, and then when you turn the corner, you can start running. But he knew it would be foolish to try that. There was no certainty whether or not he would be followed, and that one could surely outrun him. And there was no question that the watcher knew Estonia had caught sight of him. They were staring at each other.
As if drawn by a string, Estonia went to him. There was no way to resist, not after their eyes locked. He was a fly in a web, and escape was impossible.
Finally he stood directly in front of his former dictator. “Good morning, Russia,” Estonia said, managing, though he was unsure how, to keep his voice calm and steady.
Russia adjusted his scarf so it no longer covered his face. He was smiling. “And the same to you, Estonia,” he replied.
The smile, of course, was no indication that all was well, and Estonia knew it. Certainly expressions were no way to determine Russia’s moods; he and his brothers had learned that long ago. Still, he proceeded bravely, trying to keep Lithuania’s judgement in mind. “I received your letter.”
“Ah? Did you like it?”
How on earth was he supposed to answer that? Estonia’s mind flew. “I...” His voice caught in his throat. “It was very nice,” he said, struggling to keep his tone level, to keep his voice from wavering. “Thank you.”
Russia’s smile widened. “Very good, very good!” he said, then in a quick movement pulled the smaller nation into a tight bear hug. “You see,” he continued, squeezing Estonia, “I would have wished you a happy birthday in person, yes, but I was not invited to your party.”
He’s crushing me, Estonia thought. “Russia-“ he struggled to speak, but the strong nation’s hold on him only tightened further, making him gasp.
“And it is strange, you know,” Russia continued, ignoring Estonia’s attempts to squirm out of his arms, “That I was not invited to your celebration. Because we are good friends, are we not?” His tone had the familiar terrifying cheerfulness that could make even an apparently innocent statement seem threatening.
“It was an accident!” Estonia somehow managed to gasp out the words. “Your invitation must have been lost in the post.”
“Oh?” Russia raised an eyebrow. “It is strange, isn’t it, that the invitations dear Lithuania and little Latvia sent me to their parties did not arrive either.”
“Yes, very strange!”
“You must all have sent them to the wrong address.”
“That’s quite possible!”
“We will have to remedy that, won’t we?”
“Absolutely!”
Somewhere, a clock struck the hour. Russia looked skyward, head tilting in a dog-like fashion, and listened to the heavy, weighted chimes. “Well!” he said. “It is later in the day than I thought.” With that, he cheerfully dropped Estonia, who gasped as the air rushed into him. “You must pass these on to your brothers,” Russia said, pressing three address cards into Estonia’s hands. “So your mail to me will not get lost. And now, good-bye, Estonia~! I have business I must attend to.”
Estonia wheezed as he watched him go, the cold air biting his crushed lungs. “Good friends?” he murmured, Russia’s voice echoing in his mind. The thought was laughable.
Good friends, indeed.
---------------------
Characters/Pairing: Estonia, Latvia, Lituania, Russia
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: 2260
Summary: "Shortly after his birthday, Estonia receives a strange letter".
Other: Written for Estonia's birthday. Posted at the Hetalia main community. (Original entry)
Letters and Logic
It was three days after Estonia’s birthday. The celebration was over and it would be a while, at least, before the next time his little house would be subjected to an invasion of guests. Poland, Finland and the others had already said their good-byes, leaving him with well-wishes for another good year.
Finally, it was his brothers’ turn to leave.
Estonia hummed as he sifted through a fat stack of mail, which he had neglected for several days due to all the excitement of the celebrations. In the background he could hear Lithuania and Latvia doing last-minute packing, with all the usual fuss and comments of “Don’t forget to check under the bed for socks” and “Be sure you’ve packed everything – you always forget something, Latvia”. Soon, they would be finished and gone. Secretly, Estonia was somewhat thankful for that. Though he loved his brothers dearly, the past week had been incredibly busy and he was quite overdue for some time to himself and a day or two to catch up on much-needed rest.
While he waited for them to finish, Estonia separated his letters into neat piles. The cards made his eyes light up behind the lenses. Pleased to receive so many well-wishes from those who had been unable to actually visit him, Estonia sifted through the brightly-coloured envelopes, murmuring to himself. “Hm, Hungary, Belgium... Canada? How kind! I’m surprised he remembered me. Ah, France, Japan, America – ... wait. America? How unlike him.” Raising an eyebrow, he checked the return address twice. There was no doubt about it. “Lithuania-!” he called down the hall toward the spare bedrooms, holding in the laughter. “You sneak, you reminded America about my birthday, didn’t you?”
“I admit to nothing!” was his elder brother’s cheerful reply, followed by what sounded suspiciously like Latvia’s muffled giggling.
“Ah, I bet it’s a conspiracy! Yes, you both set down a secret plot to get the whole world to help you stuff my mailbox.” A laugh did escape him, and with a broad grin on his face, he continued sorting. “Ah, Switzerland, Greece – wait, who’s this one from— Seychelles? Oh, honestly, you two, you really did get everyone in on it, didn’t you?”
When he came to the last envelope he paused a moment, and stared at it.
Strange.
It was large, light green, and would have been rather unremarkable if not for the fact that it had no return address on it – nor his own address, either, nor a stamp or any marking of any sort whatsoever. Estonia turned it over and over in his hands, but found no indication of who had sent it.
Very odd, indeed. Well, he decided, there was only one way to determine what it was all about. Curiosity rising, he reached for the letter opener.
When Lithuania and Latvia stepped into the kitchen, their coats buttoned and their overnight bags slung over their shoulders, they found Estonia leaning against the counter with a letter in his hand and a rather worried expression on his face.
“Hey, are you all right?” Lithuania asked. An uneasy look crossed his face.
“I’m not sure,” Estonia replied. “Here.” He handed the letter to his elder brother, pursing his lips. “Read it. Tell me what you think.”
“Mm.” Lithuania stared at the paper for a moment while Latvia peered at it from his position beside him. The stationary was light green and printed with cheerful cartoon sunflowers. Before he so much as looked at the writing, he suspected what it might say; but upon seeing the Cyrillic letters neatly written in black pen, he had no doubt. “Dearest Estonia,” he read aloud. “I wish you many happy returns on your birthday.” The Russian words tasted like ash in his mouth.
“Well?” Estonia pushed his glasses up. His face was pale. “What do you think? It’s strange that he’d send something like that to me.”
Lithuania shook his head and handed the letter back to him. “Not as such,” he said, nibbling his lower lip thoughtfully. “He sent me one, too. I found it after you left last week.”
“And he sent me one, too,” Latvia murmured, clinging to Lithuania’s sleeve. “At my birthday, I mean. But I didn’t find it until afterward.”
Estonia eyed the both of them, unsure. “And nothing else has happened since then?” he asked.
Latvia shook his head, and Lithuania said, “No. Just the letter. Nothing else, and I haven’t seen him hanging around or anything like that, either.”
With a heavy sigh, Estonia set the letter down on the counter with the rest of his mail. The three of them stared at it, as if it might burst into flames at any moment.
“So what do we do?” he asked finally.
“Nothing.” At that comment, Estonia looked at his brother sharply. Lithuania simply shrugged. “Just nothing,” he repeated. “Take it as a message of good will. He sent you a friendly letter. Unless something else happens, just let it be.”
“But it doesn’t make sense,” Estonia protested. “Something’s going to happen; he wouldn’t do this if it wasn’t part of a plan.”
“My birthday was months ago, and nothing bad has happened to me yet,” Latvia supplied helpfully.
“He’s right, you know,” Lithuania said. “Nothing happened. And any way, since when has anything he has done ever made sense?”
“Maybe you’re right.”
“I’m sure I am.” Lithuania smiled. “So, don’t worry about it.” At that point, he turned to Latvia, and said, “Now, we’d best get going. You’ve remembered to pack everything?”
“Yes, brother.”
“Are you sure? Last time you forgot your wallet and we were halfway to Riga before you remembered you’d left it.”
“I swear, I have everything!”
“Go start the car, then,” Lithuania said, handing him the keys. “I just need a moment here.”
When Latvia was gone, Lithuania turned to Estonia once more, looking him up and down. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked.
Estonia shook his head. “No. Maybe. I don’t know. I still don’t feel right about this.”
Sighing, Lithuania stepped toward him and drew his unresisting brother into his arms. “Oh, Eesti, Eesti,” he murmured as he hugged him tightly. “Don’t worry about this. He’s – well, you know how he is, but I think this is harmless.”
“Yes, but are you sure?” Estonia asked. In spite of his protests, he seemed to relax slightly, the tension in him easing as he rested his head against his older brother’s shoulder.
“I’m as sure as I can be considering what we have to go by.” Lithuania squeezed him gently, then withdrew, offering him a bright smile. “So don’t worry. All right?”
Estonia responded with a shaky smile of his own. “All right,” he said, though he did not seem to believe it, not quite. “All right. I’ll try.”
A breeze mussed his hair. He stood on his front door step, arms wrapped around himself to block out the chill, waiting. The proper good-byes had been said, embraces exchanged again and again, well-wishes of “drive safely!” and “get some rest now, it’s been a busy week!” traded with so much love and affection. As Estonia watched the car pull out of his driveway, his heart sank, but he schooled his expression and smiled and waved at his brothers until they were down the street and gone. Then, sighing, he slipped back inside and pressed the door behind him.
Estonia padded into the kitchen on slippered feet. He intended to make tea, but paused at the sight of the pile of mail on the counter. It seemed to eye him suspiciously. He looked at it, and if he was the type of person to imagine such things he would have imagined that it was looking back. However, Estonia was not that sort of person.
He took the anonymous letter in his hands. Logic would dictate that he would throw it out and forget about it, take it as nothing, as Lithuania had instructed him to do. At that point in time, however, he didn’t feel very logical. It had been a very illogical morning. So instead of tossing it in the bin, he put it on the refrigerator, pinning it down with two practical, heavy magnets.
Then he stared at it.
This is ridiculous, Estonia thought. What was he trying to find? The letter and its cheery, cookie-cutter message made his skin crawl. The neat handwriting seemed to laugh at him, taunting.
Ridiculous.
There were things he needed to do. Being host to so many guests had left his house in disarray. Lithuania had washed the breakfast dishes for him, in spite of his protesting that he could very well do it himself; but there was still laundry, and vacuuming, and so many other things that needed attention.
He stared at the letter.
It did not stare back.
His brothers were gone. At that moment, Estonia thought, the last thing he wanted was to be at home, alone. He needed fresh air.
The cool morning air bit through his thick wool coat and whipped his cheeks as he walked, but Estonia didn’t mind it. Generally he could rely on the chill to clear the cobwebs from his mind and give him room to think. In this case, however, no matter how much he thought, the problem became no clearer.
It just didn’t process. There was no logic in it.
“But that’s the point, isn’t it?” Estonia murmured to himself as he walked. The sender of that letter was one who was not governed by any logic whatsoever. His mind was not subject to the same laws of reason that other people bent to. To understand him would be to try to comprehend chaos, which was—
Estonia stopped. He stood still. What did he see out of the corner of his eye? Slowly, carefully, he turned his head, hardly daring to breathe.
A tall man stood nearby beneath a bare-branched oak tree. In the cold morning sun his blonde hair was bleached nearly white. His thick scarf was pulled up over his nose to keep the breeze from nipping at it, but with the top portion of his face visible there was no question that he was watching.
You can walk away, Estonia thought to himself. You can walk away, and then when you turn the corner, you can start running. But he knew it would be foolish to try that. There was no certainty whether or not he would be followed, and that one could surely outrun him. And there was no question that the watcher knew Estonia had caught sight of him. They were staring at each other.
As if drawn by a string, Estonia went to him. There was no way to resist, not after their eyes locked. He was a fly in a web, and escape was impossible.
Finally he stood directly in front of his former dictator. “Good morning, Russia,” Estonia said, managing, though he was unsure how, to keep his voice calm and steady.
Russia adjusted his scarf so it no longer covered his face. He was smiling. “And the same to you, Estonia,” he replied.
The smile, of course, was no indication that all was well, and Estonia knew it. Certainly expressions were no way to determine Russia’s moods; he and his brothers had learned that long ago. Still, he proceeded bravely, trying to keep Lithuania’s judgement in mind. “I received your letter.”
“Ah? Did you like it?”
How on earth was he supposed to answer that? Estonia’s mind flew. “I...” His voice caught in his throat. “It was very nice,” he said, struggling to keep his tone level, to keep his voice from wavering. “Thank you.”
Russia’s smile widened. “Very good, very good!” he said, then in a quick movement pulled the smaller nation into a tight bear hug. “You see,” he continued, squeezing Estonia, “I would have wished you a happy birthday in person, yes, but I was not invited to your party.”
He’s crushing me, Estonia thought. “Russia-“ he struggled to speak, but the strong nation’s hold on him only tightened further, making him gasp.
“And it is strange, you know,” Russia continued, ignoring Estonia’s attempts to squirm out of his arms, “That I was not invited to your celebration. Because we are good friends, are we not?” His tone had the familiar terrifying cheerfulness that could make even an apparently innocent statement seem threatening.
“It was an accident!” Estonia somehow managed to gasp out the words. “Your invitation must have been lost in the post.”
“Oh?” Russia raised an eyebrow. “It is strange, isn’t it, that the invitations dear Lithuania and little Latvia sent me to their parties did not arrive either.”
“Yes, very strange!”
“You must all have sent them to the wrong address.”
“That’s quite possible!”
“We will have to remedy that, won’t we?”
“Absolutely!”
Somewhere, a clock struck the hour. Russia looked skyward, head tilting in a dog-like fashion, and listened to the heavy, weighted chimes. “Well!” he said. “It is later in the day than I thought.” With that, he cheerfully dropped Estonia, who gasped as the air rushed into him. “You must pass these on to your brothers,” Russia said, pressing three address cards into Estonia’s hands. “So your mail to me will not get lost. And now, good-bye, Estonia~! I have business I must attend to.”
Estonia wheezed as he watched him go, the cold air biting his crushed lungs. “Good friends?” he murmured, Russia’s voice echoing in his mind. The thought was laughable.
Good friends, indeed.
---------------------
