First Impressions are Hell [Toris & Feliks]

[Poland]

August 1385 in Kreva Castle, Lithuania~

Poland was in a predicament.

Not just on a national level—wrought with the succession crisis and then the challenge of finding a suitable husband for his underage “King”—but also on a personal level. Feliks was greatly perturbed with the near-arrival of a load of strangers. Strangers. Obcych. Coming right now. The pang of quaint fear resounded—he had had troubles with this guy before—Lietuva? He was pagan. They were pagan. He’d never met Lithuania despite interactions between their countrymen, making the two nations total strangers. And God knows, there was nothing worse than pagan strangers. Maybe they were agreeing not to be pagan, but still, for the moment they were pagan strangers. He probably shuddered right then, because Jadwiga patted his head reproachfully.

“Calm down, Polska.” His king calmly remarked in that cute, still-girlish voice of hers, touching his hair softly from above him. He only dug his face farther into her lap, into the folds of the fabric of her dress, and whined a little bit, seemingly just as childish as she. Or more so. The girl was only twelve... While being married at twelve was hardly unheard of, the thought of marrying away his charming little boss to those pagan strangers was just too much. There were perks that came with the agreement, perks his nobles and even Jadwiga thought too good to pass up, of course, and thus Poland knew how important it was. Kicking the ass of the Teutonic Knights once and for all by the might of their combined militant forces? That was important. Seriously important. He was just as aware as anybody how quickly that annoying little brat had to be put in his goddamn place already…

But he still couldn’t shake that feeling of… er… badness. Yeah, like, general badness. What if Lithuania didn’t like him? He definitely had reason not to after a few territorial skirmishes in the last century. What if Poland didn’t like Lithuania? He was already assuming he’d hate him, after all. And even if they did like each other by that slim chance, something would undoubtedly go wrong. Or something. He didn’t know., but something would go wrong and it was too important for it to go wrong but it’d go wrong anyway… The last time his ruling monarch had been from another country hadn’t gone right at all, even though he vehemently admired Hungary as a country. And then there had been that whole deal with Austria… Maybe nothing would go right this time either.

He could make a case for that right now. He bolted upright, looked at his lady-king and fretfully wiped at his face, wet from the heat of the summer day. She looked at him, curious, as he scooted away from her and faced her from the other edge of the lavish little bed. “You know, we don’t have to do this. I don’t think it’ll work out. Isn’t that guy a little bit old anyway? I’m sure,” he fidgeted slightly as he rambled, kicked his legs off the edge of the bed, “if we talked to the nobles, and, errr… your mother, maybe, we could just call the entire thing off. We could go back to Kraków. What do you think?”

Nervously Feliks awaited her response—she did seem to actually consider it momentarily, but then she frowned. “…I don’t think we should,” she said gently, giving him a long childlike stare, chiding and firm. He felt his hopes fly out from underneath him, and sighed sharply. Oh, to be the ruling entity of Eastern Europe, hundreds of years old, and frightened of strangers to the extent that a well-meaning child has to scold you.

“I guess it’s kind of totally silly of me, right?” he said, chuckling, albeit anxiously. “They’re probably right outside the gates already…” The thought made his chest tighten; he stood up and paced hurriedly towards the bedroom window, peering out from the small opening into the road, taking a few moments to take in the limitd view of the landscape beyond, checking for those pagan st—Lithuanians. The castle wasn’t his, though, so he wasn’t sure about from which way they’d arrive. The place certainly was nice, admittedly-- however, the way its dark brick figure loomed above him when he and the rest of the delegation arrived hadn’t done much but scared him further. It had looked absolutely hideous and dark and scary from the outside, but the interior was cozy and elegant. The surrounding area was speckled with a few sporadic homes here and there, but the landscape mostly consisted of fields extending far into the distance. e

But he had tons of fields at home. What he didn’t have was a husband for his king. That was what he was really looking for, though not optimistically. “Really, calm down.” Jadwiga said from behind him, with a lilt to her voice, “I’m sure it will be fine, really, just talk to him like you always do to everyone else. It isn’t so—“

Despite his boss’s attempts to console him, he squeaked quite audibly when there was a knock at the doorway. Jadwiga stood up with all the elegance and grace of a full-grown queen, and Feliks came to stand beside her with considerably less grace, noticeably fidgeting again. It was only one of his knights though—one of the few he had been encouraged to bring along—which was comforting except for the fact that he had brought the news of Lithuania’s arrival. Which meant it was time to leave Jadwiga, at least for a little while—a little while that’d likely seem like forever and ever. Feliks tried to find some solace in the fact that he’d primarily only have to talk to Lithuania for a while, but that was just as frightening, if he made the wrong move he’d leave a bad impression and the other would hate him forever and they’d never get along. Diplomacy was a scary, scary thing.

But irresponsible and irreverent as he may be, he had this vague awareness that going to talk to Lithuania was necessary. Necessary and… awful. He took a deep breath though, and steeled his nerves as he stepped out of the door and down the long corrido he had been led through a few hours ago. He’d been worse off than this before. There had even been a brief Civil War at his house just last year—if he were to cower at mere… mere strangers, than he was not worthy of calling himself Poland anymore. Still. Strangers. Scary things. But he’d been through worse!

So this was nothing…

Timidly, though, he peeked around the wall and into the large main hall where the envoys from his country were already speaking with the Lithuanians, exchanging polite greetings and generally looking fine. But his main focus was to spot out Lithuania, who likely had as much to do with the negotiations and the signing of the document as Poland himself did—which wasn’t very much. The role of nations were so undefined; he could be signing the document himself one time, and simply watching the next. They had probably realized how useless Feliks could become when confronted with strangers, and decided to saddle him with the “simple” task of befriending another nation. Or at least talking to him. Something. He sought him out in the small group of Lithuanians, figuring the youngest was likely to be the nation in question.



((OOC: It’s kinda rambley and it took me a while, but I really enjoyed writing it. xD I love unreasonably shy!Poland. If you’ve got any problems with it and want me to change something, Liet, be sure to tell me~ ))

[Lithuania]

Lithuania had a stomach ache.

This was far from an ideal situation, he reflected to himself as he looked up at Jogailia, Grand Duke of Lithuania. The imposing man, long-haired and stern, had his face set like flint as they entered the castle and refused to return Toris' surreptitious glances. Biting his bottom lip, the quiet, serious young nation tried earnestly to imitate that same determination.

Something in his chest was aching at the prospect of the union ahead. He had spent the last century bitterly fighting against that little bastard Gilbert, and his order's insane crusade to force Christianity down everyone's throat. So far, the Grand Duchy of Lithunia had held firm, and Toris had clung valiantly to his right to religious freedom even as the Teutonic Knights beat at his door. He'd lost count of the number of times he'd bitterly vowed that no man on Earth would take away his faith.

But the Teutonic Knights were constantly upping the pressure, like dogs who just couldn't let go of a bone. Toris couldn't see, could never see, why it was so important to them to spread their rigid monotheism like a disease. But then, that was the Teutonics all over. Arrogant, petty, fanatical and belligerent.

And unfortunately, a century of fighting was starting to take its toll. Toris wasn't sure how much longer he could keep this up, and Jogailia and the other nobles were starting to get nervous. The Grand Duchy was loosing its last grip on Paganism. They'd contemplated a marriage to the daughter of the prince of Moscow, but a conversion to Russian Orthodoxy wouldn't be enough to keep the Teutonics at bay and the idea had been rejected. The only option left to them now was an alliance with Poland. At least this way, they would get to convert on their own terms, and hopefully gain some military presence with the union. Toris wasn't happy about it, but he acknowledged that it was necessary. He could continue to believe what he wanted in private, so long as Gilbert kept the Hell away from his people, and the Grand Duchy continued to survive and flourish.

And so it was that Jogailia went to meet his child-bride, the adolescent girl who had become king of Poland. If the Duke had any misgivings, he did not show it. For his leader, sovereign duty always came first and Toris resolved to take the same attitude.

As they entered the hall, he immediately spotted the girl-King, Jadwiga. She was barely twelve, and his chest tightened a little as he bowed to her, feeling a wave of pity for the child who was being married off to a stranger more than twice her age. But as he met her eyes with a bow, he realised with a sudden admiration that there was no fear in her expression, that she held herself with a dignity and maturity which surpassed her years. He looked around for some sign of Poland himself, having expected the other nation to be at her side, but there was nobody to be found, merely a group of nobles and politicians accompanying her. Frowning imperceptibly, he glanced around the room anxiously until he caught a flash of blonde hair and wide green eyes from someone who quickly disappeared back behind a wall. It was only a split second, but he could swear that he felt something that almost felt like kinship, and came to the conclusion that perhaps this might be the missing nation.

As the two parties began to lavish excessively formal greetings on one another, Toris bowed again politely and curiously left the group to wander in the direction of the figure peeking out from around the corner. Approaching him softly, the way one might approach a particularly skittish woodland creature, he popped his head around the corner and tried a gentle smile.

“Um...hullo?” he ventured quietly to the blonde in front of him. The boy had the appearance of being ages with himself, and his attire marked him out unmistakeably as nobility. With a little burst of self consciousness, Toris realised that, in his travelling clothes, he probably looked almost like a peasant in comparison. But the brunette had never particularly been one for finery.

“My name is Toris Lorinaitis, of the Lietuvos Didžioji Kunigaikštystė,” he said softly with a little bow. “I'm here with the Grand Duke. A...are you...?”

He let the question hang in the air. If his instincts were wrong, then outright asking a random young noble if he was the nation of Poland would probably raise some pretty serious questions about his sanity. But if he was right, then he was sure that the shy, wide-eyed boy in front of him would take his meaning pretty quickly.


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OOC: Ahhhhh Feliks is too adoreable!

[Poland]

It was mildly difficult to find the nation in question from behind a wall. He had no doubt that the task at hand would be far easier if he were to just step into the realm of the speaking and look out for the other nation from that point, but his ridiculously expensive and custom-made boots were seemingly plastered to the floor, or if he took even a step past his self-set boundaries, he began to hypervenilate just slightly: in any case, he wasn't leaving his comfort zone. He gripped the side of the wall and peered out at the mass of mostly richly dressed people, his eyes drawn to the most extravagant of the newcomers. Most countries didn't try to outdo their rulers, with the exception of Poland so long as he had tolerant leaders who allowed his shenanigans, so Feliks didn't expect to see a nation in those kingly clothes. But he did see his own future ruler-- if their negotiations went through as planned-- and made sure to view him with appropriate appraising. Interestingly enough, the blond saw past the obvious opulence of his attire and looked at that even more prominent way he carried himself. He was the quintessence of stately dignity, showing no regrets as he strode most formally and respectfully towards Poland's girl-king. Poland's hands tightened on the side of the wall, he surged forward a little accidentally in his haste to watch the other. If the man showed any hint, any sign in the least, that he was not the best choice for Jadwiga's hand and the Polish crown...

But the Lithuanian Grand Duke didn't. He swept across the floor almost majestically, looking grim but for all the world dedicated to the task at hand. He equaled Poland's king in that aspect, though Jadwiga stood rather daintily clothed in dress of the finest fabrics-- it was so very obvious that she was not a traditional king, that she could never lead the country by herself, but the fact that she tried her very hardest and so obediently followed the directions laid out for her by the nobles was so heartwarming. She curtsied, with perfect grace, to the Grand Duke and the two exchanged their first words; Feliks watched as if entranced, just vaguely feeling as though he had obligations elsewhere. If Lithuania the nation was anything like his ruler, though, Feliks didn't want to meet him all the more. It'd be intimidating, and Poland's eminent lack of formality would most definitely show. But instead of finding his own personal weaknesses as bothersome, he irately viewed the imminent situation as troubling. He focused on the two monarchs instead of the circumstances, because he knew if he started thinking about it his breathing would deepen and his stomach would do flips and his hands would feel clammy and it would all be gross...

"Um...hullo?"

Feliks started, almost jumped out of his own skin. He would not have been surprised if Krakow itself had received some kind of shaking parallel to the jolt his heart felt when someone started to talk directly to him. Seriously. Horrors upon horrors, someone just kill him now. He was able to nod once, meekly, in return, looking absolutely and ridiculously sheepish as the other hesitated a moment, giving Feliks what was meant to be a reassuring smile.

"My name is Toris Lorinaitis, of the Lietuvos Didþioji Kunigaikðtystë." He started quietly, dipping slightly in respect. Again, Feliks didn't do much other than to numbly nod once, still perturbed with the fact that one of the pagan strangers was directly talking to him. He was marginally aware that his actions were coming off as cold or unfriendly, but just shooed those thoughts away. "I'm here with the Grand Duke. A...are you...?"

Are you... Are you what? amazing? unreasonably bashful? blonde? Feliks quirked an eyebrow, contemplating the annoyingly uncompleted question for a moment. But questions often depended on the questioner, so he looked closer at the other, noting firstly the peasantry of his clothing, secondly his earnest youth, and lastly a feeling of exhaustion which came off the other like a storm. Maybe everyone in the room was tired to a degree; they had all journeyed to the meeting place, they were saddled with this stressful expectation of tying the two nations together-- which was most definitely not as simple as it seemed. Feliks couldn't imagine the life of a diplomat, having to always please others, having to always wear masks to better negotiate, never able to do what you wanted to on account of some unwritten, international code on political etiquette. That certainly would be tiring, too. But this Lithuanian's exhaustion had the very distinct and heavy sense of stemming far back from today, a stress spanning generations... The kind of worry that Nations had to carry on their shoulders for most days of their vastly and horrendously prolonged lives. The question clicked; he was asking after what defined Feliks the most-- the cornerstone of his existence, his nationhood. Which meant that the eager, friendly and quiet boy in front of him was likely the nation of Lithuania. Toris. That name meant more now-- Toris, he could remember that. He stood regarding the other in wonder for a few minutes, near forgetting that a question had been asked to begin with.

When he remembered, he swore he might have started shaking. This was the second phase of successful conversation, and he had already been doing so well in listening and nodding. All he had to do was reply. Yes, I am the nation of Poland. Hopefully it would go from there, now if his mouth would just start moving into coherency... Feliks sharply drew in a deep breath, and started the show-- beginning with a wide, wry smile.

"Um... masz racjæ!" he said somewhat loudly of the assumed conclusion the other had drawn, trying on that showy voice and finding it fitting for his purposes. He flourished his hands dramatically. "My name is Feliks Ùukasiewicz, otherwise known as Królestwo Polskie. That's the Kingdom of Poland, I am a nation! You are also a nation, are you not?" Here he swept a prolonged and flashy bow, observing the other as he came up. While he most certainly looked like a country, and an earnest, friendly one at that, he did not look like the nation that would help Feliks to defeat that bastard Gilbert or alleviate any other problems. While his expression didn't change, inwardly he wondered if Lithuania would only be good for a trade agreement... But then, they were sharing a dynasty now. Unless his nobles wanted someone else to take the throne, the two would be stuck together for quite a while... If he wanted them to get along, Feliks supposed he'd have to give him this impression of being an impressive, confident and dashing young nation. If he wanted to do that, he figured he'd just toss off all of his personal reserves and talk to the guy, fighting off the flipping of his stomach and the sudden coldness he felt.
------------------- - - - - -

masz racjæ= you're right!

[Lithuania]

There was a slightly uncomfortable silence as Toris waited for an answer to his question. From the other boy's raised eyebrow, the brunette wondered for a horrible moment if he'd completely misread the situation. He could feel a blush starting to spread across his cheeks and was about to mumble a hasty “nevermind” when the blonde youth's demeanour suddenly transformed.

"My name is Feliks Ùukasiewicz, otherwise known as Królestwo Polskie. That's the Kingdom of Poland, I am a nation! You are also a nation, are you not?"

Lithuania all but started at the loud, confident voice which came bursting out of the previously timid-looking young noble. He took a slight step back as Feliks...Poland...made an elaborate bow before coming back up to meet his gaze. Toris glanced at his worn travelling shoes and back up to the beautifully dressed nation before him and felt suddenly self-conscious and a little intimidated. But at least Poland seemed like a serious, confident nation, who would surely be politically aware, if not a good ally in battle. He glanced doubtfully at Felik's finery, and wondered if the slight blonde would fare well in the hardships of war, in the inevitable upcoming battles they would have to face if Teutonic Knights continued their insane crusade. But appearances could be deceiving. After all, nobody ever feared little Toris when they first encountered him, but he had proved himself numerous times in combat as a force to be reckoned with.

Besides, it didn't matter what he thought, not particularly. Poland could be the most irresponsible or disagreeable person in the world and his opinion still wouldn't change the fact that this union had to go ahead. It was just a stroke of luck that he seemed pretty together.

“I'm Lithuania,” he confirmed simply with a slightly relieved (if a little nervous) grin. He realised that he had no idea what to say next and so he simply stared at the blonde for a moment.

“Um...welcome to Kreva, sir!” he blurted out. “I'm really...happy at the prospect of a union between our two crowns.” That was a little bit of a lie. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about it yet, but it was always best to take an optimistic standpoint. “I...I hope we become good frie...um....allies,” he faltered.

He glanced over at the two royal parties, who seemed to be deep in intense discussion. He caught his Duke's eye for a moment, and thought he caught the faintest hint of a nod from him. With very little that either of the nations would be able to add to the diplomatic proceedings, Toris shrugged helplessly.

“I...uh...I fear that there is not much for us to do here, save for wait for the outcome of the talks,” he said quietly. “But I hear that this castle has some really lovely gardens. Perhaps...would you like to take a walk so that we might become better acquainted, Królestwo Polskie?”

[Poland]

(( Soooo… I probably should have made a warning in the first post, but I hadn’t seen it coming (maybe I will add in the warning later) but yeah… while I was writing this some religious stuff kind of slipped in. You see, my Feliks has this bit of a religious side and he’s kind of pompous and intolerant about it. This is not at all my views and if it offends you I do apologize and I will probably lower the religiousness later. …Just in case. I can never tell what is offending and what isn’t. D')

Well. The boy was talking and Feliks surprisingly wasn’t dead. Yet. It was probably only a matter of time until he made some irrevocable gaffe, though, he thought diffidently as he twiddled his thumbs behind his back, appearing still very regal and high-end. But Toris did confirm that he was indeed the nation in question, and Poland smiled a little wider—Lithuania. It was usually under awful or violent circumstances that he met another nation; what a pleasure it was to have some civility between him and his kind for once. He was relieved since it was going well, and it showed on his face—but his consistent knack for screwing his much-loved civility over would probably shine through any second. Aaaany second now.

There was already a silence, and Feliks swallowed, reaching for loose words in the inside of his head until Lithuania thankfully opened his mouth to fill in the clenching wordlessness.


“Um...welcome to Kreva, sir! I'm really...happy at the prospect of a union between our two crowns.”

Feliks blinked blankly, as if not quite registering what the other was saying for a moment, before nodding vigorously. He did not at all catch the other’s hesitation or reluctance, making no note of his emotions at all. If he said something aloud, after all, he probably meant it. Duh. Then the appropriate response would be….

“Oh, most definitely! And I am very much looking forward to your eternal soul being saved. And your people too of course. I’m really so glad you’re making this decision!” He touched the place where his heart was, maintaining that oblivious, confident and delighted smile, completely unaware of how the statement could be construed as offending or even mean-spirited. To the Kingdom of Poland, the Christian faith was, after all, a very important thing, the thing he could thank his life for—and sometimes he had the tendency to go a bit overboard with it. But Lithuania’s choice to convert, in Poland’s eyes, truly was saving so many people it was extraordinary. It was about time they did away with their silly gods and accepted Christ, after all. If nothing else, it would surely give Gilbert reason enough to get his ass out of Eastern Europe, right? …Right?

Maybe not. He was kind of a stubborn asshole. But Poland had total faith that he could beat the stubbornness out of the brat, with the help of another army of course. That’s why this was important, he reminded himself with another deep breath, to see that kid lying in blood. The thought was probably more pleasing than it should have been. Toris began to talk again and idly Feliks traced the holy cross on his own chest with a gentle finger, one foot in this world and the other in the next. He realized what he was doing and stopped himself just as Toris finished speaking.

“I...I hope we become good frie...um....allies,”

”…Good allies? Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t we? I mean, unless you really are a psycho like the Teutonic Knights said.” He was completely serious, scratching his cheek thoughtfully for a moment before shrugging. “Well, probably not anyway. We should totally kick that guy’s ass for saying things like that though. I mean, it’s not true that…” He trailed off into silence, now following Lithuania’s eyesight—the other was looking at the courtiers, diplomats and noblemen. Feliks shifted his weight, peering at them again. His king seemed to be comfortable, taking no notice of her troubled nation, completely at ease. That helped to put Feliks at ease a tad too, admittedly, but he was still going to be on his toes. If it was really true about Lithuanians burning the knights alive while they were still inside their armor… he involuntarily shuddered a bit at the thought. Well, he would either have an epic and amazing partner in warfare or a passive-aggressive psycho on his hands. But Toris seemed decent. Most crazy nations were flat out crazy in Poland’s experience, therefore Toris was most definitely not crazy to the extent of being super crazy. Maybe just crazy enough to save the both of them.



“I...uh...I fear that there is not much for us to do here, save for wait for the outcome of the talks. But I hear that this castle has some really lovely gardens. Perhaps...would you like to take a walk so that we might become better acquainted, Królestwo Polskie?”

He was right; this was one of those times that his purposes weren’t completely clear. He supposed he was here to acquaint himself with the nation of Lithuania and give moral support to his king—as it turned out, however, his king seemed to be more apt in giving moral support to her nation. But Poland would not fail at the former objective! Flipping back his capes a little, he nodded at the other most gladly. No gardens were as nice as his own, of course, but he did appreciate beauty of all varieties, no matter how poor and unimpressive!

”Ah, yes, that’d be fine.” He concurred, glancing around momentarily. Feliks was at a loss as to where exactly the gateway to the garden was, so he pointedly looked up at Toris for assistance. “Lead the way if you will, Lie—Li--Lietuwo—“ the Pole fumbled with the name for a second, momentarily determined to get it right before just giving up on it. It wasn’t easy like his name was, no fair. And he had yet to learn Lithuanian save mispronounced greetings from their country’s messengers. He started walking, fixatedly looking sidelong at the other nation. “Yeah, so like, first order of business-- I’m going to have to shorten your name so it’s easy to say…”

[Lithuania]

Lithuania winced slightly at the mention of his eternal soul. Hadn't the Teutonic Knights said exactly the same thing on the matter. He supposed he would have to convert, though. It was part of the deal and, after all, he could always pray to his own Gods privately. He hoped dearly that Feliks wasn't another fanatic like Gilbert, though. Converting was one thing, and a painful concession at that, but having his brand new faith rammed down his throat at every opportunity wasn't something that the Baltic nation was particularly keen on.

And the Teutonic Knights thought he was a psycho? He wasn't entirely sure how to feel about that. On one hand, his sensibilities were a little affronted. On the other hand, that probably meant that they viewed him as a serious threat. And if they were scared of him now, then an alliance with Poland would have them running for the hills. Lithuania hated to intimidate anybody; it went against his nature completely. But when it came to self-defence, and when it came to the battlefield, Toris took no prisoners.

“Lead the way if you will, Lie—Li--Lietuwo—“ Toris looked at Feliks and resisted the urge to correct him, before letting the matter slide. “Yeah, so like, first order of business-- I’m going to have to shorten your name so it’s easy to say…”

As they walked towards the castle grounds, the Lithuanian made a noise that was halfway between a choking sound and a snort. He'd been in Poland's company for less than five minutes and was already rapidly coming to the conclusion that the blonde was artless, insensitive and slightly self-involved. After all, how much effort would it take to learn how to pronounce someone's name properly?

But there was also an honest, vulnerable transparency about the Pole. For all his finery and grand airs, he very much seemed to be blurting out whatever came into his head, and Toris found this oddly endearing. The polite, courteous little brunette found society's elaborate rituals of manners, ceremony and stiff formality to be somewhat uncomfortable, and he found that there were few people who were willing to speak their mind frankly without dressing it up in flowery prose and semi-dishonesty. But in the space of a few minutes, Feliks had already all but accused him of being a heathen, called him a known “psycho”, expressed a desire to kick someone's ass and then blatantly admitted that he couldn't be bothered learning to pronounce the name of the country he was about to form an alliance with. And while all of this was a little concerning, it was also undeniably refreshing. He couldn't help but warm to the other nation, for his guilelessness.

He responded to the blonde with a good natured shrug. “That's fine with me,” he said quietly, as they stepped outside into the immaculately-tended courtyard. “I...I suppose I've never had a nickname before.”

As they meandered through the castle grounds, the Lithuanian smiled slightly. The sun was high and bright, and the air was filled with the perfume from the multitude of flowers planted there. Toris found the place to be quite spectacular, and he fell happily into silence for a few moments, before something tugged at his mind and he spoke again.

“I'm not a psycho,” he mused softly, with a tiny laugh, looking at a particularly pretty patch of rue. “Gilbert's the unbalanced one. But I think that he's nervous. I've been keeping the Teutonic Knights at bay for a while now and they haven't gained any real ground yet. Combining our military strength before they launch an all out attack on both of us could only be a good move, for your sake and mine.”

He spoke with slow, calm consideration. Part of him was voicing his thoughts on the matter, and part of him was still trying to convince himself that this was worth giving up his faith and part of his cultural identity for.

“I want to keep my people safe,” he affirmed quietly, and then smiled a little at Feliks. “Nothing matters more than that.”

[Poland]

Feliks didn’t know that you had to receive someone’s permission before bestowing a nick name upon them, but he was sure he’d learn all sorts of new things from talking to Lithuania, as he did with every nation. Polite obligations were simply not something inborn or instinctive for him, and even as he learned the laid-out set of social rules, he couldn’t be bothered to stick to them and dismissed them quite carelessly. Nervous as he may be about making new acquaintances, he just couldn’t bear the weight of social responsibility necessary to befriend people properly. But that was just fine, he could talk to people in his special, flawlessly perfected Poland-way.

With a bounce in his step, he followed Lithuania through the gardens, unexpectedly finding them well-cared for and rather nice though not extravagant. But that was okay. And quite befitting of the nation that housed it—nice-looking, but not extravagant. Feliks sauntered through the courtyard a short distance away from his newfound companion, inspecting flowers of different and common varieties. In his mind he went over what had already been said, finding no folly in his amazing conversational skills and forming the decidedly optimistic opinion that Lithuania was in fact a pretty nice guy regardless of what Gilbert claimed in disparaging him.

“I'm not a psycho.” His gentle, mildly amused voice rung through the garden, and Feliks straightened out from his flower-viewing position, looking attentively at the other nation as he went on softly, perfectly articulate.

“Gilbert's the unbalanced one. But I think that he's nervous. I've been keeping the Teutonic Knights at bay for a while now and they haven't gained any real ground yet. Combining our military strength before they launch an all out attack on both of us could only be a good move, for your sake and mine.”

Oddly, Feliks conceived the notion that Lithuania was talking to the both of them—to himself and to Poland. He remained mute, tilting his head and watching the other intensively. It would be a good move. A great move, in fact—their military alliance could very possibly rid the region of any unscrupulous threats, not just limited to the Teutonic Knights. They would prosper; their people would prosper. He was sure of it. Not by any knowledge or expertise regarding international politics and warfare—but because of a gut feeling.

“I want to keep my people safe. Nothing matters more than that.” The brunette concluded at length, and flashed a heart-warming smile at Poland. Feliks felt himself take a step back, slightly unnerved by how honest and simple the other one was. But he did get straight to the point; Feliks liked that. And he wanted to nobly protect his people—he seemed as if he was having trouble coming to terms with something, Poland couldn’t help noticing, his voice held a certain amount of reserved reluctance. He couldn’t imagine why the other would be hesitant since everything was win-win, but if he somehow felt like something was being lost and yet still carried on, then he was admirable in Poland’s book. Quietly the blonde’s mouth curved upwards and he stepped towards the other nation, crouching down beside him and peering at the very same patch of flowers.

”Well… erm,” the blond started a little breathlessly, struggling to find the right words; he didn’t possess the same eloquence as Toris, but he tried his best when it came to structuring sentences, haphazard as they might turn out. “Of course—me too! I think everyone of us—I mean, you know, people like us—are the same way. I just want to… to um, you know, help out my people too, too. So that’s why it’s okay if you and I make an alliance… I hope it works out.” He threw a wary glance towards the castle walls that hid the possible makings of a grand and forceful alliance. “If it doesn’t, then… at the very least, we should have some kind of non-aggression agreement or something.” Here he threw his head back and sighed melodramatically. “I totally don’t need more problems. Ahh…”

“Liet!” Feliks exclaimed after a few moments of stilled silence. He softly connected his fist to his open palm, and then looked brightly at Lithuania, appearing surprisingly exuberant for such a small thing. He wasn’t exactly sure how he had arrived at the subject of Lithuania’s much-needed nick name within his head, but Poland’s mind often had many roads and unexpected turns and it was simply inexplicable how he came to certain conclusions or subjects. “Alright then, I’m going to call you Liet from now on.” He announced, pointing his index finger at the brunette in a declaratory manner, not even bothering to leave the small matter up for discussion.

[Lithuania]

As Poland crouched down to look at the flowers, Lithuania found himself sinking cross legged onto the grass beside him. He supposed he was breaching some kind of formal etiquette by doing so, but his short time with the blonde nation had made it apparent that Feliks Lukasiewicz seemed to create his own, slightly unique social rules. Still, he gave the other nation a slightly apologetic glance while he listened to his response.

“Of course—me too! I think everyone of us—I mean, you know, people like us—are the same way. I just want to… to um, you know, help out my people too, too. So that’s why it’s okay if you and I make an alliance… I hope it works out.”

The brunette found other nation's slightly inarticulate speech incredibly and inexplicably endearing. The tiny, hesitant smile that played around Toris' lips grew slightly wider and he followed Feliks' gaze towards the castle. I hope so too...

“If it doesn’t, then… at the very least, we should have some kind of non-aggression agreement or something.” Lithuania responded with a sage little nod, and then all but jumped in fright as the Pole suddenly let out a long, loud sigh. “I totally don’t need more problems. Ahh…”

Toris paused to consider this for a moment. Clearly Lithuania wasn't the only nation in Eastern Europe that was coming under fire from the Teutonic Crusade, not to mention other international pressures. He felt sorry for Feliks, even more so than he did for himself. The small blonde, with his child-king, seemed suddenly very transparent and vulnerable, and Toris resisted the urge to put a comforting hand on the other boy's arm.

“I think that...” he began quietly, but was instantly cut off as Poland exclaimed something unintelligible and punched his own hand. Bright green eyes wide with astonishment, he looked to his new companion for some explanation.

“Alright then, I’m going to call you Liet from now on.”

Lithuania shrunk back slightly as the apparently excitable blonde levelled a finger at him. He blinked once or twice in mild shock, before letting out a nervous little laugh.

“Liet...?” His face returned almost instantly to its usual calm, good natured expression, even if he was a little taken aback. Hadn't they just been talking about an important military alliance only moments earlier? How was it possible to jump from the serious to the trivial with such dizzying ease. “I...um...well....” He cleared his throat and took a moment to ponder whether or not he was happy with Poland gleefully butchering his name in such a fashion. “You know...my name really isn't so difficult to pron...” he trailed off again and was struck by how utterly and earnestly pleased with himself the other nation appeared to be. There was something almost...cute about it.Defeated, he sighed and smiled indulgently at his strange new acquaintance.

“All right,” he said hopelessly. “Liet is fine. I'm sure I'll get used to it.”

Just like he would get used to Christianity, and sharing his land and culture and autonomy. If there was one thing that Lithuania was good at, it was compromising and making the best of things. Besides, something gave him the impression that an alliance with Poland might allow him to form his first real, genuine friendship. After all, Belarus was like a snarling stray cat whenever he approached her, and that poor little Russia kid wouldn't speak to him ever since his dog had scared him off. There was something warm and sweet and likeable about Feliks and, despite the obvious awkwardness on the blonde's part, Toris felt a kind of easy, earnest camaraderie with the other nation. And he found his feelings on the matter of a union starting to gradually shift from dutiful resignation to a kind of bright hopefulness.

“I think that a non-aggression agreement would be a good idea,” he mused thoughtfully, “If the union doesn't happen. But my boss is a really upstanding and honourable man, and even if he looks a little fierce, he's really kind. And I promise that he would make a good husband and treat your um...king...really well. You must be really fond of her...and she's so young. But you wouldn't have to worry about Jogailia.” Toris nodded again for emphasis. “He'd protect her.”

And I guess, an involuntary thought came to him as he looked at the small blonde with his fine clothes and inexplicable air of fragility, I'll protect you.

[Poland]

Poland wasn’t really hearing anything as he grinned at the other with an unabashed glee. He wasn’t aware that you had to get the other party’s permission before bestowing a nickname upon them, and anyway, it had already stuck within Poland’s mind and would quite possibly remain there for all of history in bright, flashing letters. Liet might have considered it a butchery of his name but for Poland it was perfectly fine and better—a sure sign that the other wasn’t as intimidating as Poland had imagined. Definitely not—in fact, it was almost endearing how he sat back and stuttered good-naturedly and looked at him with that rare expression of uncertain kindness. Feliks closed his eyes. Though he seemed to be one to just follow the flow of things with a meek nod and smile, the other had put up with him and his oddities exceedingly well so far. That meant something, somehow. He wasn’t sure what it meant, exactly, but somewhere in the tangle of thoughts excitedly buzzing within his head he was aware of a distinct appreciation for Lithuania and whatever future was to come, because it was going to be good.

Mutely he wondered why Liet seemed so flustered towards him, but concluded that he was just worried about the future—and he shouldn’t be, decidedly. Funny he should think that, since he had been more flustered than anyone less than an hour ago, stubbornly hiding away from the Lithuanians and stuttering and worrying like their arrival meant the apocalypse was coming, but… now he felt differently, as if something in his mind had shifted and whatever he had been concerned about had shut down. He was completely at ease, and it was difficult for him to understand why Lithuania wouldn’t feel that way too—but then he was smiling too and they were both smiling and the sun was bright and not at all like those stuffy rooms filled with stuffy people who invariably liked to shake their heads in disapproval at Poland whenever he said or did something out of line. It didn’t feel like forced and fake diplomacy. It didn’t feel like nation business at all, really, even as they talked nation business it was as if they were discussing something else entirely.

Poland opened his eyes, blinking in the sunlight, and spoke immediately in response, waving his hand around dismissively. “Oh yeah! I am. She’s great. Your boss is a totally lucky guy.” She was young and when she had arrived in Kraków a year or so ago, younger still, but she regularly carried herself with more silent confidence than Poland could muster at points. Even though she hadn’t lived with him for the majority of her brief life, she was willing to give up anything for him, and likely for Lithuania too if their agreement went through. Most likely, it would—his diplomats and negotiators and his king wouldn’t fail him in this. And he was getting to have equal faith in Lithuania’s being a good choice for his country, with all of the benefits his nobles had discussed and his apparent ability to endure Poland’s endless silliness.

“Girls in my house always get married young though, you know? But I don’t want someone to take her away from me yet… aah, whatever, I’ll take your word for it I guess. He looked kind of scary, for sure, though…” He chuckled and let his words hang in the air for a few moments while he made random gesticulations with his hands, trying to recapture whatever it was he had been trying to say. “Oh! And we’ll protect you guys, too, most definitely. We’ll be like, an unbeatable team!” He exclaimed enthusiastically, believing every word leaping from his mouth. He had never imagined a single subordinate nation could make the future looming ahead seem so much more assuring!

[Lithuania]

“Girls in my house always get married young though, you know? But I don’t want someone to take her away from me yet… aah, whatever, I’ll take your word for it I guess. He looked kind of scary, for sure, though…”

Lithuania felt a little wave of sympathy for the blonde next to him. One of the hardest things about being a nation was getting attached to human beings. It was one of those unavoidably tragic aspects of their existence. Toris himself liked his Grand Duke well enough, and he respected his attributes as a boss. But he refrained from growing too emotionally invested in his monarch, had refrained from doing so in all but the very earliest years of his life. He found that, for all his overwhelming love for his children as a population, to form close bonds with them on an individual basis only lead to heartbreak.

He wondered if Poland's blatant lack of caution when it came to his little King was a sign that he was a little foolish, and setting himself up for hurt. But he suspected that it was simply that the ebullient boy beside him was more open and free, more able to form attachments and love and wear his heart on his sleeve and get himself hurt and pick himself up and dust himself off in the end. Perhaps his flair for drama was really the thing which protected him most in the world.

“Oh! And we’ll protect you guys, too, most definitely. We’ll be like, an unbeatable team!”

At this, Toris couldn't help but grin widely, leaning back on the grass and looking up at the bright blue sky. If only this was how all unions and alliances were formed...sitting out on the grass, with no regard for protocol and ceremony and the customary talk of “I'll give you this if you give me this”. He imagined that this was probably how a person felt when sitting enjoying an afternoon with a friend, although he had such little experience in that field. Lithuania read books, and rode horses, and studied military strategy and dutifully trained with his soldiers, and cooked by himself and was kind and polite to everyone he met (barring Prussia). But he rarely...socialised.

“For sure!” he smiled broadly at Feliks. To have an ally, and one who made him feel so very warm and at ease, now seemed like a wonderful prospect.

“You won't lose her, you know,” he mused aloud in response to Poland's earlier statement. “I mean, if we make an alliance between our two kingdoms, then you'll still be able to see her any time you like. Just because a person gets married doesn't mean they can't still see their friends. My boss won't take her away. He's very honourable and reasonable and I'm sure she'll have plenty of freedom and a happy, comfortable life.”

He cleared his throat and propped himself up on his elbows as he enjoyed the spreading warmth of the sun on his face. “You know...I'm normally a very cautious person,” he began, echoing Poland's bright optimism in his own awkward, reserved way. “But um...I think I have a pretty good feeling about all of this. I'm really glad to meet you, Polska.”



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AN: *runjumpglomptackle* I'm so happy you're back, Poland! <333333

[Poland]

It was odd that Poland resented politics with such intensity, much preferring a sort of personal relationship between countries. Because politics, in essence, made up the personal relationships of nations and vice versa. It occurred to him whenever he was in a particularly abstract mood of thinking to wonder whether his reactions to other nations were shaped only by diplomatic ventures or if it was vice versa or if both were parallel to each other. But through out his life time, if a nation was majorly upset, then the people and the governments were similarly upset—and the same principle applied when Poland was happy, too. When Poland rejoiced, so did the Poles, right? In theory.

So, hypothetically, if Poland was already trusting and making friends with and being at ease with Lithuania, their people and their governments would similarly get along? At least for a while. Definitely for a while, it was practically guaranteed. And Lithuania sounded so… so genuine when he said things, it caught Poland’s attention and held it like so many things couldn’t. While that effect would most likely wear off after time, in the present it was refreshing to actually be interested in what someone had to say. Someone who wasn’t, say, a twelve year old girl.

“Me too,” Poland replied, matching every ounce of sincerity in Lithuania’s but with more of a distracting flair as he smoothed back his hair, beaming at the other nation. Then he looked down at the ground for a few moments with a look of near trepidation before shrugging and deigning to lie down on the grass in his fineries. He could always get new ones if these were ruined, anyway, and it was nice just to look up at the sky.

“So like… since we’re getting on so well, Liet,” he started after a few casual moments of silence, “don’t you think they’re probably wrapping it up and stuff? It’s probably going through, I mean, our alliance thing-y… So that means you’re going to come live with us in Krakow, right?” Feliks interlocked his fingers under his hair, turning his head to face Toris with an expression of eager hope and a childish elation. There were so many things in Krakow to be seen, and suddenly he felt like showing someone around instead of forcing them out.

((OOC; Dunno where to go with this from here. Sorry Dx ))

[Lithuania]

“So like… since we’re getting on so well, Liet...”

Toris smiled brightly in spite of himself. Meeting Poland had been so much nicer than he'd hoped and the easy camaraderie between them was surely a good portent for the negotiations. But then Feliks upturned an earnest, hopeful face towards him and his next words took Lithuania by slight shock.

“So that means you’re going to come live with us in Krakow, right?”

“Come and live...” he trailed off for a moment in surprise, his green eyes a little wide. He sat up cross legged on the grass and stared at the castle contemplatively. Would he really have to leave his homeland? He pulled his knees up to his chest and let his chin rest thoughtfully on top of them. Couldn't Feliks come and live here instead?

But no. Objectively Poland was the stronger power and would be the politically dominant nation in the partnership. That was why Lithuania was converting to Christianity, why he was making so many cultural concessions. But leaving his homeland...? He wasn't sure how any nation could bear to be apart from the country they embodied. It seemed like such an impossible thing to ask. He supposed that if they were merging crowns, they would inevitably end up sharing land anyway but somehow the thought of being taken away from his own beloved land and his own children made his chest ache.

He looked at bright, eager Poland with serious, sorrowful eyes for a long moment. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt or offend the little blonde and he knew in the back of his mind that their alliance was far more important than any of his own personal wishes.

But still...

“I suppose I will be...” he said eventually, mustering as sincere a smile as he could. “I'm sure Krakow is full of really lovely things to see.”

The Lithuanian couldn't help but wince for a moment. “But please can you promise me that I'll be able to ride back here often. Otherwise...” He wrinkled his nose and looked faintly bashful. “Well...otherwise I'll get really homesick.”

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(OOC: Same...! But it's been such an awesome thread! XD Shall we wrap things up within the next couple of posts?)

[Poland]

Homesick… homesick? Riding back home?

Poland turned his head away from Lithuania momentarily, a look of minor confusion playing across his face. He used what little empathetic ability he had to look at it from Lithuania’s perspective— living in a foreign capital, albeit a really majestic and awesome one, far away from home… Feliks wrinkled his nose up. He could understand why that would be bad, lonesome, even. It was a strange feeling to be separated from what made you what you were—your land, your people— and to do so for an extended period of time, it became steadily worse. Poland had experienced that kind of homesickness at war in another country once; he could have sworn it was a real sickness in full, rather than a mere longing of the heart.

So. Okay. He could allow visits back—he wouldn’t want his partner/subordinate/vassal to get sick and die from lack of exposure to Lithuania-ness. He rolled back over with a thud and spread his arms out wide in front of him, gazing up at his hand and the sky behind it as he announced, “Yeah, I’ll allow you to go back once every now and then!”

Feliks thought about this momentarily, and then promptly added, “Only once in a while, though, okay? Not like, all the time or anything. Besides, you’re gonna love Krakow. It’s the coolest place ever.” In Poland’s mind, it was—they had just opened a university there, and the university had this library, and it was probably going to be the best university in all of Eastern Europe at the rate they were going. Feliks was also excited to drag Lithuania to Krakow because he would immediately get baptized once they arrived. And truth be told, Feliks, for some inexplicable reason, just found baptisms to be extremely exciting—probably even more so when it was the baptism of a long-pagan new friend of his. “Oh, and the baptism’s gonna happen there, of course. We’ve got this huge church and everything!”
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((ooc; Mhm~ It's been fun >w< Yeah, a few more posts should do it. And then later on we can do some other thread if ya want~ Probably later-later on. ))

[Lithuania]

Now and then...

Lithuania placed his palms flat against the grass, as though savouring the feeling of being on his own soil. He leaned back and looked up at the sky and wondered if it would look as blue from the grass in Krakow.

“I'm sure it really is...” he murmured in a sort of polite agreement to Felik's declaration about his home city. He looked over at his new ally and smiled as brightly as he could. At least he knew that he was going to be living with someone he was sure to get along with. His instant liking of the Pole had smoothed over a large portion of his trepidation. And Lithuania was a dutiful, serious nation, if nothing else. He would be able to stoically bear being away from his beloved homeland if it was in the best interest of his children.

“Oh, and the baptism’s gonna happen there, of course. We’ve got this huge church and everything!”

“The...baptism?” he echoed the unfamiliar word, letting the sound of it roll off his tongue. Was he supposed to know what a baptism involved? Was this some kind of test? Would Poland think he was criminally uneducated if he were to reveal his ignorance now?

“Um...right...the baptism...” He nodded as though the word was perfectly commonplace, as though he'd already come to the point where he was au fait with such a thing. It must surely be some kind of initiation rite into Poland's strange religion. He shuddered slightly at the possibilities of what it might involve. After all, Gilbert was Catholic too, and he seemed completely unhinged and bloodthirsty about it all. What exactly was the nature of this “baptism” event, he wondered, and would it hurt?

And a church? That was a place of worship, wasn't it? There were no churches in his homeland, although he suspected that would soon begin to change rapidly. For Toris, the earth and the forests and the natural world were his “church”. He struggled to come to terms with the concept of going into a building to worship the Gods.

“I...um...” he began hesitantly, “I think that you might have to teach me a little more about your faith.” Feliks seemed like the sort of person who enjoyed showing things to people, so perhaps he wouldn't mind. “I wouldn't want to make a mistake or do something wrong...” he clarified bashfully.

[Poland]

Poland rolled over and peered down at Lithuania with exaggeratedly wide eyes. “Eeh, you mean you don’t even know what you’re getting into?” There was a mixture of disbelief and intrigue dripping from his voice as he continued to stare down at his soon-to-be partner confusedly. After a few more moments of scrutiny, Feliks simply flopped down again and folded his arms behind his head, snickering slightly. “I don’t know, Liet, that kind of diminishes my formerly high opinion of you~” He paused. “…You must be like, desperate then? Seriously, jumping into my religion without even knowing about it…”

Poland hadn’t bothered to put any thought towards Lithuania or his beliefs or his traditions—hardly anything at all— but that was because Poland wasn’t the one who’d be adopting an entirely foreign and novel culture. That would be Lithuania’s duty within their partnership, and in all of his oblivious pride, Feliks considered Liet very lucky at that. Still, the fact that the brunette and his people were venturing into new waters without a clue struck a chord. Well, the awkward ignorance would decidedly not last long! Poland had conquered foreign peoples before, and sooner or later they adapted despite any initial hostility… Lithuania was seemingly meek and their relationship, as of now, was more peaceful and amicable than anything despite Poland having a dominant hand. Therefore, Poland reasoned, Liet was likely to assimilate into Polish culture without much difficulty. Probably twice as easily. Feliks figured he might as well start now—Christianity was an important place to begin, too.
“Hmm… how can I explain this?” He mumbled out of the blue a few moments later, “Catholicism and stuff… did you know, I was born ‘cause of it? I guess it’s kinda like… my job in life to spread the gospel, you know? That and protecting my people ‘n all… But anyway, yeah, Christians believe like, there’s one God, right? And He created people… in a beautiful Garden…” He spread his hands outwards, closing his eyes and looking completely at peace. “Way more beautiful than anything in your country or even in mine… but… these people He created so fearfully and wonderfully…” He drifted off into a contented hum, his voice seeming almost sleepy as he went on. “They decided to disobey God one day, and because of that, they were separated from Him and fell into sin and general badness. Are you following me?” He opened an eye, taking a moment to adjust to the noon-nearing glint of the sun overhead.

”Then… years later, God was… upset that His people were separated from Him… He so loved the world… that He sent down His one and only begotten son… so that they who believe in Him may not perish, but have eternal life.” That was always the part that piqued Poland’s interest the most. Eternal life… it was hard to believe he didn’t already have that, sometimes, his adolescence spanning centuries, his appearance changing so sluggishly while people around him died off quickly. Humans were delicate, too delicate, unless they were made strong by plight. Even then, they were still so susceptible to death—Poland almost couldn’t understand it, but he knew life was very precious to everyone. That’s why people needed God, and Christ. Eternal life. Eternal life. Peaceful life, too, in Heaven… Feliks frowned. He liked Earth perfectly well, too, despite living in the clouds all of the time.

”So, like, basically… you gotta believe that God sent his son down to die for us so we can like, be connected with God again, if you wanna go to Heaven and live happily ever after. And you also have to be baptized… like, dipped in water. It represents a new birth… does that make sense? It’s funny, I should be really good at explaining it since it’s like my purpose and all to propagate it, right? But… to tell you the truth, it’s pretty hard to explain… I’m sure a priest will get you guys totally situated though, when we get back to my place—oh, and of course,” Poland mentioned almost conspiratorially, “you’ll be able to ride back to your house, too. Though, remember… Krakow most of the time… But it’s like monumentally amazing, and you’ll have a biiig room to yourself, too. Everything looks like it’s gonna go well, amazingly. I wonder how we did it…”

No, he thought softly, yawning a little as the day warmed, maybe it was all God’s plan from the start. God totally had his back like that.