If tension was gold, I'd be rich. The heavy knocking on the door cut though the thick atmosphere that we were all in. USSR went to open it, but his hand hovered on the door handle, shaking and doubting. After another rather angry knock, he sighed and opened it. And there he was. Russia's grandfather. The first thing that leaped out at me was his face. Russian Empire was a bit shorter than his son, but his his posture, facial expression and crown all gave away his total authority over the family. One of his eyes was obscured by a black eyepatch with an eagle on it, the other was a weird dark purple. I figured out where Russia got his strange eye colour now. His clothing looked very expensive and fitted a monarch. The pure gold epalettes on his shoulders were only one piece of rare metal or gemstone on his clothing. The collar of his uniform was open and I could see his exposed neck. I wish I hadn't. Right in the middle, where the neck meets chest was a large amethyst set into his white skin. The thought even made me sick. He carried with him a cane and a relatively simple suitcase stood next to him on the snowy doorstep. His clothing was intricate but not suitable for such extreme weather. Nobody spoke until he did.
"Что стоишь? На, положи наверх." He looked at his son with disdain. "Хватит на меня смотреть, уходи." He hissed and USSR left to go upstairs with Russian Empire's case, cursing under his breath. The older man clicked his tongue in a disapproving manner and turned to us. I felt myself go rigid when his eyes swept over me.
"Who are you?" He asked in a very bad Russian accent. I thought USSR had a bad one. Russia jumped to my defensive as soon as his grandfather spoke.
"That's Germany," he blurted out. "He's adopted."
Russian Empire looked very sceptical, but didn't press further. "Ah, I see. Very nice. USSR figured that he can't have more children, so he should adopt the whole world." He looked me up and down like a rotten pear and the sighed dramatically. "Ah well, you can't change your father's strange ways, now can you?" Next to me, Russia clenched his fist tightly and all of the muscles on his jaw were visible. He was trying hard not to speak. Fortunately, he switched the subject when he saw his favourite little grandchild. "Kazakhstan! My little baby!" Kazakhstan smiled and jumped into his grandfather's arms.
"Hi grandpa!" He said back, wrapping his wings around the other.
"Did your wings get bigger?"
"Yeah! I'm big now, just like papa!"
"Yes, yes." Russian Empire smiled a very transparent smile. He seemed like a theatrical man, with many masks to wear for every occasion. He put Kazakhstan down and chatted with Ukraine and Belarus for a little while before turning to Russia and me. During that time, I looked up to see USSR looking down from the mezzanine, strategically out of view. His green eyes were full of boiling anger, humiliation and hurt. When our gazes locked, he shook his head quickly and backed up against the wall silently. I took it for a sign to keep quiet.
"Grandpa, this is Germany. He's in my year at college." Russia broke through my thoughts.
"Well, you are independent now, yes?" Russian Empire asked his grandson.
"Sort of. We live on Mr. UK's island."
"Ah, Britain is a good man. Sometimes sour, but okay in general." Honestly, he was describing himself. "And you, boy, I thought I've heard your name before. Are you related to German Empire?"
"Yes, sir." I instantly remembered what Russia told me about titles and braced myself for whole impact.
"Not sir. Tsar." His eyes darkened, but his smile still remained. "I'll forgive your ignorance this time around."
"Yes...Tsar."
"Good. Perfect. I wish everyone was as obedient." He clapped his hands lightly. Ever single word sounded like a compliment and an insult at the same time. But I didnt want to point it out. "You're his grandson, maybe?"
"Yes, Tsar."
"Hmm, German Empire only has two sons. Both are weird. One was too formal, too weak willed and too influenced. The other was just plainly a fiery pit of insanity. Don't know which is better."
"..." I had nothing to say. Now that he was closer to me, I could see how horribly the amethyst was set into his skin. I kept staring at it, thinking of how vain must you be to make yourself do that. It must've been painful, and it was in a dangerous place, right where many vital organs were at close proximity. He probably noticed me staring and he smirked.
"You like it?" He pointed to it. "Isn't it nice? It protected me from assassination once." He touched it softly, and I had the urge to throw up. "I had one set into my son's skin too. Just in a different place. A nice little emerald too. Now I think what a waste of gem that was." He tapped his foot impatiently and then adjusted his small crown on his head. "СССР, ты где? Did you die somewhere? That would be too fortunate." USSR came down slowly, like a killer to a tied victim. But Russian Empire was all smiles. He reached up to pat his son's head, and then wiped his hand on the couch arm. All of the grandchildren looked very uncomfortable, but none of them spoke or moved. Even Kazakhstan looked down and frowned. They all understood that it was supposed to be this way.
"I'm here," he said harshly.
"Don't be so mad. Tell me about your adopted son."
"His name is Germany. I took him in because I have a contract on a piece of his father's land. That's it." USSR said with clenched teeth.
"Ah, okay. Who's his father? That weak one? I think his name was Weimar something..."
"Third Reich," USSR muttered.
Realisation and interest flashed in the empire's eyes. "Ah, that little one. Yes...the one you li-,"
"Lied." USSR cut in fast. "I was lied to by him." He stood really close and threatened his father silently. His hands were itching to wrap around the Tsar's thin white throat.
Russian Empire loved seeing his son in total shock. He wrapped his fingers around the crook of the cane he held and nodded slowly."Yes, yes. Lied to. As well as something else. But it's too late to say it. Too many walls have ears you know." He chuckled cryptically. Who looked more shocked, USSR or Russia was had to say. "Ah, anyway, aside from that. I am tired from that horrible trip here. My car doesn't do too well in snow...and dirt roads. Have you prepared dinner? I hope so." He walked lightly over to the dining room, humming and examining the table, picking up one or two things, then putting them back. He went into the kitchen, humming even louder. USSR sighed exasperation filling the sound he made.
"As you can see," Russia said once we were out of his grandfather's earshot. "He's very oily. And vain. And frivolous. And kind of blind to everything going on. And he doesn't fear much."
"He doesn't fear anything," USSR growled.
"Yes he does," Russia said in a terse whisper. "He fears God."
USSR let out a little chortle. "Hah, that's hilarious."
"Is it always like this?" I asked Russia again.
"Yes." He nodded sadly. "But it gets better. He always softens up by the end. Probably this time it's a little worse because to him, you're a stranger. Don't worry, he doesn't do much but try to embarrass father. He'll stop soon enough once you stop looking surprised." He explained quietly and quickly. "If you don't pay it any attention, he'll definitely stop."
"Okay," I said unsure. "They won't drink right?"
"Oh they will." Russia's gaze darkened so that it looked like his grandfather's. "But not in front of my siblings. They have in front of me. They'll wait till my brothers and sister are asleep. Sooner or later, the liquor will be out."
"Drinking always ends up revealing bad secrets," I whispered nervously. "I'd rather them remain that way." Russia took my hands in his. This time, intentionally. His hands were warm and his grip was strong.
"Trust me," he whispered back. "I won't let him if you cannot bear to hear it."
"Thanks,"
He broke the hold with a firm shake. "Let's go. Try to enjoy the food. At least that will be nice..." He looked up at the light coming from the kitchen. "It was probably a mistake for you to come. You'd be happier of you'd stayed..."
"No. I would be miserable. Here, at least I have somebody to talk to." I reassured him. He seemed to brighten at this.
"Okay then," he made the cross quickly. "Welcome yourself to a typical Russian family dinner. The key word is family. So, enjoy."
"You sound as if you're not going to be there."
"We can't talk as freely," he cautioned. "So I'd rather warn you here. Come on," he motioned for me to follow him into the lit room. We sat down and I only realised that we were cornered in the middle of USSR and Russian Empire when they both sat on either side of us. Great. I desperately wanted to move, but it would look awkward. Again, me and USSR were left out when everybody else prayed. Again, I looked down and pretended I didn't exist. I was getting good at that sort of thing. The food was spectacular this time. The slab of meat that I saw earlier was a rabbit, and it had a very nice and mild flavour that was more subtle than pork, and richer than beef. A bunch of baked vegetables were arranged around it nicely and a thick pumpkin soup went with it. There was also a farro, a mix of rice and vegetables that are baked, and a tureen of red caviar along with dark pumpernickel bread loaves. The dinner was nice, and soon enough I thought that Russia's warning was just an empty caution, but when Belarus and Ukraine brought out tea after the dinner, the Tsar started to talk.
"That was a nice dinner," he commented, stirring his porcelain cup with a spoon of sugar. Kazakhstan and Belarus were excused to go play in the living room and Ukraine was munching on a pryanik. There was a pot of green tea with herbs, plain black and a red hibiscus tea called Karkade. A piece of dry Napoleon cake went with it.
"Thank you." USSR said flatly, taking a spoon of cake and thinking it to be sugar, stirred it into his tea. After his realisation, he put his whole piece into the cup. Russian Empire sighed at his son.
"Tired?" He asked almost sincerely.
"Yes," the other replied. "Tired of everything."
"Well then...you should retire. Give it up. After all, you so desperately wanted to take it for yourself." I knew what he was talking about without him even dropping hints. Governance. He wanted his son to give up his governance.
"That will not happen...on my watch,"
"Suit yourself," his father huffed. "I'm not helping you."
"I didn't ask for help." USSR hissed. "I don't need help."
"Fine. Don't come crawling to me afterward." The Tsar raised his eyebrows with a haughty expression. His eyes searched the surroundings and then befell me. Uh oh. "You, how do you like it here?"
"Um, pardon?" I said feebly. "I don't really understand what you mean..." I looked at Russia for help and he nodded slightly.
"He likes it here," Russia intervened. "He told me."
"He told you...interesting." His purple eyes looked like ones of a hawk. He gazed down at me for a moment and then spoke to his son.
"USSR, I thought you hated when your children step into relationships without your say so." He said slowly. My blood turned to ice. I didn't dare look at USSR's expression, but I heard his heavy breathing next to me. Suddenly, my cup of tea was very interesting and I looked nowhere else. I could feel the heat radiating from both sides. One defensive the other maddening.
"What?" USSR whispered, thankfully to his father. "What did you say?"
Russian Empire probably sensed danger. "Never mind, USSR."
"No no. What. Did. You. Say?" His son said. "Tell me. Now." Each time he said a word, his fist banged against the table. Ukraine sunk down under, obscured from view and slithered away quietly. I could hear my heartbeat pound in my throat.
"It will anger you," Russian Empire was suddenly the victim and he lost most of his grandiose instantly. I saw that he was just a scared man who liked to play with the fates of his subordinates.
"Oh, but tell me," USSR's voice was sweet like thick syrup.
"Son, I-,"
"Now."
"Son, please." USSR threw a knife in his direction. The unearthly sound that came out of the monarch's mouth was horrible. The knife sailed past him and into the huge clock behind him. It tilted a little and then fell down slowly, just centimetres from his father. Russian Empire clutched at his neck, breathing heavily and shaking with fear. The clock next to him was broken in a million pieces and nobody moved for a moment. Then, USSR sat back down and started to help himself to more cake. Russia was staring into the wall next to me and I had lost my speech. "Ты сумашедший? Ты охренел?" Came the words from the Tsar's mouth, meant only for his son. His voice souded harsh, low and shocked.
"If you must mistreat me forever," USSR said calmly. "Then this will happen much more often."
"I always thought you were wrong. You're unwanted, you know. If you want sympathy, don't come to me. You killed your own mother. I hate you." With that, Russian Empire stood up and left, slamming the door to the room he was staying in. USSR didn't have a reaction to this, but merely ate more of the cake.
"Somebody has to clean this," he said aloud. "I can't have a broken clock in the middle of my dining room." He proceeded to finish the cake before he drained a whole pot of green tea and starting to pick up the shards of glass from the broken clock. Russia and I did the task of cleaning the table. Ukraine must've ushered Belarus and Kazakhstan to bed, because only we were awake. While we washed out the post and dishes, Russia bent his head low and sighed.
"I'm really sorry for what happened." He apologised. "That was very embarrassing and stupid of my grandfather and of me. I should've..."
"Its okay." I hugged him with my wet hands. "I'm glad you stood up for me."
After a moment he returned the hug. "Thank you."
"Of course."
"Just ignore what my grandfather says." Russia flicked his wrist dismissively. But I couldn't. Deep down, I felt like the old and snobbish empire could see though everything. He noticed a lot of things other did not. He noted what I've been doubting in myself for so long...that little flicker of flame. I have become so confused with emotions for such a long time, that I don't understand what I feel towards who. But I do know one thing for certain. Me and Russia started to go deeper than friendship. And we both knew it.
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Что стоишь? На, положи наверх. - what are you standing here for? Here, put this upstairs.
Хватит на меня смотреть, уходи. - stop staring at me and go away.
СССР, ты где? - USSR, where are you?
Ты сумашедший? Ты охренел? - are you crazy? Have you lost it?