Character(s) or Pairing(s): Poland (Feliks), Lithuania (Toris), Russia (Ivan)
Rating: PG (for Violence)
Warnings: Written in first person. Human names used.
Summary: Toris has declared his independence from Russia, but Ivan is having none of it. With Ivan pressing the attack, will Toris cave in and return to his control, or will an old friend come to the rescue?

AN: This is in no way meant to be historically accurate. Instead, consider this a bit of fluff that my brain come up with instead of convincing me to wake up and get work done.

There is a bit of implied Poland(Feliks)x Lithuania(Toris/Liet), and if you really squint, Russia(Ivan)xLithuania(Toris/Liet), but you should be able to ignore it if you're not interested in that. This fic focuses on Feliks and Toris as friends and a Commonwealth.

Warning for violence. Written in first person. Human names used.

Also, this was posted without being beta-ed, mostly because my beta is currently busy with school. Errors will be fixed as found. Second chapter and epilogue to follow.

Disclaimer: Hetalia and its characters belong to Mr. Himaruya. The plot in this story is mine.


I shaded my eyes, scouting out the field in front of me. Wide open space, perfect for a meeting of armies. Perhaps it was a bit warm to fight while wearing heavy armor, but at least the terrain would be on our side.

I sighed briefly. Even after I had declared my independence from Russia, he had yet to give up on dragging me back to his home. All reports indicated that he and his army would be arriving here in a few hours…

My horse fidgeted nervously, perhaps sensing my thoughts. I patted his neck gently. "Don't worry. We're not alone this time." At least…we weren't supposed to be. Poland had promised to help, and, while I trusted him, I worried that he might not arrive in time…

Suddenly, I heard the galloping of hooves. Shading my eyes again, I turned to see the new arrivals. My breathing grew easier when I saw Poland's flag labeling the group as allies. "He did come through after all…" I dismounted as the group drew closer. "I really appreciate this, Feliks…" My voice trailed off as I got a good look at my friend.

"Liet!" He jumped off his horse and flung his arms around me, giggling like a schoolgirl the whole time. "It's, like, totally awesome to see you again!"

"Feliks…?" He turned his face to look me in the eyes. "…a dress? Wh- why are you wearing a dress?"

He twirled away, skirts and ribbons trailing faithfully after him. "Do you like it? I saw it at the mall yesterday, and it was totally, like, calling my name. I just had to show it to you!" His face beamed happily.

I hid my face in my hands, feeling rather embarrassed. While it wasn't totally unexpected for him to dress up in female clothing, I'd always known him to be more serious when it came to battle. "You do know why I'm here, right?" My voice was shaking as my nerves returned.

"Like, duh. That's totally why I brought these guys with me!" He gestured at the smallish army behind him.

Despairing, I shook my head. "You do know that it's RUSSIA that I'm fighting, right? It's going to take more than this," I gestured at his army, "to scare him off." Feliks wasn't paying attention to what I was saying anymore, instead focusing on fixing the ponytail that I had put my hair in. I sighed. It was useless to chastise him, and I knew it. He only ever heard what he wanted to hear anyways. "Well, small help is better than no help…I guess…" I muttered to myself.

"There!" Feliks announced, patting my hair one final time. "Now we match!"

"Wha-?" I started to ask as he pointed to the green ribbons in his hair.

"I bought one for Liet too! It's, like, supposed to be good luck or something weird like that." My questing fingers found the ribbon that he had rebound my hair with. "And besides, it's totally cute on you!"

I smiled, perhaps the first genuine smile in a long time. "Thanks. I'll treasure it." I held the reins of his pony and offered a hand to help him mount. "Let's go. Ivan should be here soon."

***************************Hours later, and well into the battle***************************

Childish laughter rang off of the stones around me. "You can run, but you can't hide!"

I cursed quietly to myself. Our armies were well matched, but I wasn't sure I could stand up to him on my own. It had become clear to me that he hadn't expected Feliks to answer my call for aid, as the group he brought was just large enough to crush the few troops I had left, but with the Polish troops on my side, we could hold our own. He probably decided it would be easier to target me directly at that point, and I was forced to retreat in order to have any shot at winning this fight.

He laughed again, and I shivered. His voice was as cold as ever, just like his home. "I will find you~! Better that you face me, da?"

Much as I hated to admit it, he was right. After taking a deep breath to steel myself for what had to be done, I leapt from my hiding place and into his path, sword raised and ready.

His face brightened when he saw me. "There you are!" He held his arms wide, revealing no few blood stains on his coat and signature pipe. "Say you'll come back with me and this will go easier on you and your people, da?"

I shook my head and tightened my grip on my sword. The many years spent in his house had not been fun. "No, Ivan. I'm independent now. When will you just accept it and leave my people alone?" His smile grew wider, and I felt myself tremble. That was the smile that still haunted my dreams. I shook myself mentally. "You leave me no choice."

My charge seemed to take him by surprise, and he barely managed to get his pipe up in time to block the swing meant for his head. His grasp on the pipe was not strong, however, and it flew out of his hands. A thrill of accomplishment ran up my spine as I tried to press my advantage. He recovered from his surprise quickly, tearing off his coat and drawing a hidden sword to counter my attack. Before long, he was pressing me back, our swords locked between us and his childish smirk mocking my attempts to fight back.

I don't know how long we stood there, surrounded by the ruins of an old abandoned town, locked in a battle for physical dominance— one that I was slowly losing. Ivan was just too big and strong for me to stand against in this fashion for long. Something changed in his face, and the glint in his eyes seemed somehow more sadistic and sinister than before. Startled, I let out a gasp as he brought his full strength and weight down on our interlocked swords. There was a sick feeling in my stomach as I realized that he had been toying with me until now. Unless I came up with some brilliant plan—and quickly—I was going to lose this fight…and probably my life.

I shifted my stance, trying to buy a little more time while I searched for an opening. Next thing I knew, I was lying face-down on the ground; he had seen through my desperation and had pulled back, letting my own strength carry me past him. His laughter rang harshly in my ears. My cheeks flushed with anger as I rolled over to face him, somehow bringing my sword up in time to block his downward swing. A brief snarl appeared on his face before he swung again, viciously tearing my sword from my hands.

His eyes shone with glee at his victory, boot crunching down on the armor covering my abdomen. The point of his sword hovered mere inches from my throat as the air whooshed out of my lungs. I struggled to draw breath, so chose instead to glare angrily up at my foe. My own sword had flown at least ten feet away, and the dagger in my boot was useless in my current position. "You lost, da?" Ivan crowed. "Now you must return and become one with Russia!" I shook my head vehemently, my feeble shoves at his foot only causing him to step harder, further impeding my lungs' desperate attempts at drawing air. "No?" His face was strangely…sad. "If I can't have you….then no one else will either!"

His eyes gleaned with a light I'd only ever seen in the eyes of the insane. He raised his sword up over his head and I covered my head with my arms, praying that he'd move his foot before striking so that I might have a chance to escape. It was true that I'd rather die than return to living under Ivan's control, but I had to live for my people and…Feliks. I'm sorry….I couldn't defeat him and return to help with the harvest… My eyes were clenched tightly shut, body tensed, waiting for a blow that never came.

Several seconds went by before I realized that something had changed. I could breathe again! Ivan's foot was no longer on me! I risked a peek from behind my raised arms and caught a glimpse of the large Russian. I hurriedly rolled over and got to my knees, drawing my last weapon in preparation for a desperate fight to the death.

The scene before me would have caused me to gasp with surprise, had my lungs recovered enough to do so. Ivan had been forced to back off, and my savior was none other than Feliks, frilly dress and all. A quick glance was enough for me to know that the sword he held was my own. Ivan was…shocked. He must have known that Feliks was here due to the force of Polish troops aiding my resistance, but something clearly had him baffled. In fact, had the situation not been so serious, it probably would have brought me to tears with hysterical laughter.

"You!" An angry Russian voice cut through my thoughts. "Why do you interfere in business that is not belonging to you?" Ivan practically spat his words at Feliks, his English coming out more broken as his calmer façade was broken down by anger.

Feliks stepped back, sword raised en garde as he positioned himself between the angry Russian and myself. "You made it my business by attacking Lithuania, even after he'd won his independence from you. Selfish monsters are not welcome here."

"Fe…liks…." I heard my voice say in pants. Perhaps I had a crushed rib? Breathing certainly hurt….a lot. "…no…."

The blond glanced over his shoulder and smiled at me. "Don't worry. It's my turn to protect you." His gaze returned to focus boldly on Ivan, sword ready, body quivering with anticipation.

Violet eyes flashed with anger. "Nyet. It is your turn to suffer and die." Suddenly the childish smirk was back—a cold smile that did nothing to kill the angry fire in his eyes. He swung his sword, hard, and I flinched involuntarily.

Poland held his ground. He blocked the blow and laughed. "You think you can beat me? You think you can defeat Poland?"

Ivan's eyes hardened. "Da." was his only response. Moments later he was raining blows on his opponent, no longer holding back. Feliks was smart, using his agility and lighter build to dodge most of the attacks. Still, he refused to move from his self-appointed post between Ivan and myself.

I staggered to my feet, unable to watch this go on. All it would take was one mistake and Feliks would end up seriously wounded…or worse. He probably had forgotten that he wasn't wearing any armor, and had just charged foolishly in after seeing me in trouble. Not that I didn't appreciate the rescue, but I didn't want to risk losing him any more than I wanted to lose my independence. "Stop…stop it." I choked out. I could breathe somewhat easier, but a few of my lower ribs were still on fire, quite possibly broken. "Your fight is with me, Ivan, not Feliks. Leave him out of this."

"Nyet." came the response as Ivan managed to lock swords with Feliks, trying the same tactic that had only been mostly effective against me. This time, however, the results were far more favorable to him. Feliks was smaller, and definitely not as strong as I, at least physically. His knees started to buckle after only a few seconds.

"No…" I whispered. Heedless of my own safety, I charged into the fray, swinging desperately at Ivan with my last weapon…the nearly forgotten dagger in my hand.

Ivan's size made him an easy target, and I held on to some small element of surprise. He jerked back, but seconds too slow; the tip of my dagger scoring a light trail on his cheek. He raised a hand to it, staring at the blood that came away on his fingers for a moment before his eyes narrowed and returned to where I stood, still breathing with some difficulty, in front of an exhausted Poland. He charged then, and I crouched down, letting his wild, angry charge carry his blow over our heads and past us.

"Come on." I said to Feliks, tugging his arm. "We've got to get out of here." His eyes were wide, and I could tell that he was frightened. "Run. I'll be right behind you. Promise."

He gulped and nodded as I pulled him to his feet and gave him a small push in the direction of the battlefield. If we could just make it back to the armies, we would probably be okay. Feliks took off at an unsteady run, feet slipping on uncertain ground, dainty shoes muddied and scuffed. I followed after a moment, determined to protect him from Russia as long as possible.

A loud laugh, more insane-sounding than childish rang out behind us, startling us both and causing Feliks to lose his balance and trip, falling face-first to the ground. A quick glance behind me revealed bad news; Ivan had recovered his pipe and was now hot on our heels. Both Feliks and I were too tired to run at top speed, and we hadn't really gained enough of a head start to reach any form of safety before he caught us. I spun, dagger in hand, ready to face him, only to have him charge past me and towards Feliks, who was trying to get to his feet, efforts hindered somewhat by a new-found panic. A single kick had Feliks on his back, staring up at Ivan with wide, terrified eyes.

Without another thought, I closed the distance between us and dove on top of Feliks, shielding him from the first strike from the Russian's pipe. Fortunately, the blow bounced off of my armor, leaving only a dull ache behind. "Feliks, go! Get out of here!" His eyes were wide and he didn't move, instead staring up at me in shock. Another blow rang off my armor, this time aimed at the center of my back. Ivan knew well where my scars were; after all, he'd put them there. I grimaced and urged Feliks on again. This time, he slid out from under me and bolted, panic lending urgency to his steps. I moved in an attempt to get to my feet and follow, but the pipe connected with the back of my knee with a sickening crunch. I collapsed to the ground with a sharp cry of pain.

"Ah, Toris." The childish quality was back in Ivan's voice as he spoke in a sort of sing-song manner. "Now that the freak is gone, we can continue." The next blow crashed into the same knee, doing more damage to an already crushed joint. I whimpered, knowing that loud cries would only drive him to hurt me more. "You always were my favorite. You had best screams, da? Scream for me again." He took a swing at my hip; the blow ringing off a resounding 'smack' that was sure to leave a bruise. An involuntary cry barely escaped my lips as he rained strikes down upon me as I lay there, helpless; each blow calculated to deal maximum pain without much actual damage. After a time, I found myself unable to cry out or even flinch away from the stinging blows. There was a brief respite as he walked around me, ended when he grabbed me roughly by the hair and pulled me upright. The gleam in his eyes told a story promising death. Rough hands tossed me back to the ground, where I fell limply on my back. It was clear—he wanted me to watch, to see my death coming. I shut my eyes tightly, unwilling to give him the satisfaction.

Suddenly, I heard Feliks's voice shouting something in Polish. He had returned! And, from the sounds of it, he had brought some of his soldiers back with him. I opened my eyes and turned my head enough to see him approaching. Ivan bent over me, cursing in Russian. I felt him tug something from my nerveless fingers, and gasped with dread when I saw him come up with my all-but-forgotten dagger. I tried to shout a warning, but my voice was cut off by a rough boot on my neck. A gasp forced its way past my lips as the dagger left Ivan's hand. It seemed almost to fly in slow-motion before sinking deep into the heart of the embodiment of Poland, and my closest friend, Feliks. A tortured scream that I barely recognized as my own tore through the air as his body slowly collapsed to the ground and lay there, unmoving. An evil laugh fills the air as Ivan's pipe connects with the side of my head, throwing my world into darkness…