Work Text:
Vilnius, October 12, 1920
Lithuania stood by the window and looked out at the city below him, bathed in the glow of the evening sun. His city. No matter what would happen, no matter what anyone said, no matter how many times someone would invade it or redraw the borders.
Behind him, he could hear Poland’s boots shuffle impatiently on the hardwood floor.
“I didn’t come all the way here to be greeted with silence,” Lithuania’s unwanted guest stated drily. “So if we could please get on with it.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” Lithuania spat, refusing to turn around. The hands in his pockets shook with a rage he could barely keep at bay. “I didn’t ask you to come.”
He heard Poland take a step towards him and finally turned to face him, gazing up and down the figure of his former lover. He looked different now – his back straightened out, gaze serious, clad in a new uniform with shiny, polished boots. He wore his hair longer again since the Great War had forced him to cut it, and now it peaked out from under his cap, a small golden accent, the only embellishment of an otherwise drab outfit.
Gone were the heaps of colorful, richly embroidered fabric, the jewels and accessories, the make-up, as well as the roundness of his cheeks he had possessed all those decades ago, when they had both been so much younger. Now Feliks was thinner, but his gaze remained as sharp as ever.
He drew his mouth into a displeased frown. “What does that mean?” He asked, his eyes narrowing.
Lithuania snorted. “Well, what do you think it does? I don’t want you here. No one wants you here, so take your troops and leave.”
Poland’s gaze did not waiver. “Plenty of people would disagree with that,” he answered coolly. “Also, this is not my decision to make. We are not affiliated with General Żeligowski in any shape or form.”
“Don’t act like I’m stupid! Why else would you bother showing up? You knew all along, and you approve.”
“Maybe because I wanted to see you?” Feliks shot back, his cool demeanor evaporating like mist. “Is it so hard to imagine that I want to check on my husband?”
“Former husband,” Lithuania corrected coldly. “And don’t pretend you care about my well-being.”
Feliks crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared up at him. “I do, though,” he insisted stubbornly.
Lithuania chuckled, cold and humorlessly. “Of course, that’s why you invaded me. Because you care.”
Feliks drew in a sharp breath, but didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stepped closer to the window – and closer to Tolys, who almost took a step back to make room for him but stopped himself at the last moment.
Feliks gazed out of the window, into the evening light. He stood close enough that Tolys could catch a hint of perfume – floral, sweet, feminine, clashing with his uniform, a reminder of days long past and a version of Poland that did not exist anymore.
“I wanted to know that you were alright,” Poland began again after a few moments, his voice softer. He half-turned to Lithuania, the last rays of sunlight that fell in through the window bathing him in a warm, golden glow. “I missed you,” he added, then fell silent as if awaiting Lithuania’s reaction.
Tolys took a few steps back to pace the room, not looking at Feliks, his thoughts racing. His hand came up to fiddle around with the collar of his shirt. Poland’s surprise visit had not given him the time to get properly dressed, forcing him to greet his guest in a simple shirt and slacks instead of an actual suit.
He could feel Poland’s gaze on him as he circled the room. The walls seemed to close in around him, and he had to stop to take a deep, measured breath. His head and body were aching, and he felt almost light-headed from exhaustion. He had not had a lot of sleep in the past days, and now it was beginning to catch up to him.
“Aren’t you happy to see me?” Poland asked when Lithuania didn’t answer him quick enough, a slight accusatory note in his voice.
Lithuania sharply turned to face him again, his exhaustion disappearing. Poland’s impatience and egocentrism remained as irritating as ever, and decades of statelessness had not lessened it in the slightest.
“Your troops are in my city,” Tolys replied drily. “What the fuck do you think?”
His chest constricted painfully as he gazed at Feliks. It wasn’t like he hadn’t dreamt of seeing him again. He’d imagined it, over and over again when the cold and despair had threatened to engulf him fully. But not like this.
Poland’s eyes narrowed into tiny green slits. “You’re acting like this is some bad thing. You could be grateful we’re fighting the Soviets for you, you know?”
Tolys just stared at him, speechless for a moment at the sheer audacity Feliks possessed. “Grateful?” He echoed. “Why the hell would I be? If you’re really expecting gratefulness for an invasion, you’re in the wrong place.”
Feliks turned to fully face him, the sun behind him almost blinding Tolys. ”Invasion? That’s what you think this is?”
“I repeat: your troops took control of my capital. You’re continuing your attacks in other parts of the country. And now you’re trying to tell me that you’re not actually invading me?”
Feliks took a step towards him, and Lithuania knew his expression well enough to know that he had deadly offended Poland. Whatever. “You make it sound like I have no proper reasons! I’m just coming to take back what was stolen from me!”
“Funny, I bet Russia and Prussia are thinking the same thing about you.”
Poland took another few steps towards him until they stood almost chest to chest, his eyes blazing, fully losing his composure now. “Don’t you dare lump me in with them!” He spat, blood rushing to his face. “This isn’t the same, at all!” He paused, his breath heaving as he fought to regain control over himself. “Can’t you see that this is a chance? For us?” He added, his voice almost pleading now. He gazed up at Lithuania, his bottom lip quivering.
“Ah, that’s why you’re here. You don’t want to check in on me, you want me back. With force, if necessary.”
Feliks’ soft, pleading gaze turned into a glare again. “I’m doing no such thing.” He paused again and bit his lip. “Look, I know this is not… ideal, okay? But-“ He broke off, lost for words. “For fuck’s sake, Liet, why are you acting like this is so horrible? It could be like it used to be, don’t you see that? Us, together, like we should be. Like we still would be if they hadn’t forced us apart!”
Lithuania opened his mouth, but before he could even say anything, Feliks continued hotly. “I waited for you for the past 125 years, Liet. I missed you, I prayed that you were safe, I dreamt of you when I was in exile, when I was in Siberia, when I was sick. You know what kept me sane, what kept me fighting? The knowledge that we would see each other again. It was only you, always. And now what? You’re going to tell me that this was all in vain? That you don’t want me anymore? That all of my hopes were for nothing?” He laughed bitterly.
Lithuania just stared at him for a long moment, then averted his gaze, unsure of how to feel. A part of him wanted to pull Feliks into his arms, if only for old times’ sake, but the much larger part of him – supported by the terrible pain in his body that reminded him constantly of what Poland was doing – could have strangled him right then and there.
“You should leave,” he finally stated.
Feliks stared back at him, his green eyes ablaze, shaking with rage. “So that’s it, huh? That’s all I get?”
“You already have my city. What else do you want?”
“You,” Feliks said, more quietly now.
Tolys bit his bottom lip so hard that it hurt, the pain in his chest sharp like a knife. “You’re right, I don’t want you anymore,” he replied in a clipped tone after what felt like ages, forcing himself to ignore the pain and exhaustion to focus on the matter at hand. “And if you seriously thought that I would come back to you now, then you don’t know me at all.”
“But Liet-“
“My name is Lietuva, and you know that damn well.”
“You can’t do this to me! After everything I gave for us-“
“What did you ever give?” Lithuania snarled and fixed him with his gaze.
Feliks looked genuinely taken aback now and took a step away from Tolys. His wide, surprised eyes indicated that he still couldn’t quite believe Lithuania’s anger.
“It was only ever you. You, you, you,” Lithuania continued, voice rising into a shout. “Your religion. Your language. Your opinions, your wants, your wishes. And you haven’t changed at all. Not once in your life have you ever considered what I want. You have no idea how fucking done I am with you.”
Poland stared at him, stunned into silence, and a small part of Lithuania’s brain registered how rare that was. “Go home now. You never should have come in the first place.”
He watched Poland’s expression grow cold at his harsh tone, his small, delicate hands balling into fists. “So that’s how you think about me,” he replied, not quite managing to hide the hurt in his voice. “You never loved me at all. And I never should have bothered with you. Prussia was right, you were a waste of time.”
Lithuania just shook his head. His anger was subsiding after his outburst, and now he only felt tired to his bones. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone, after the chaos of the last weeks – no, years, more accurately.
“Just leave,” he answered. “Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you anymore. Do what you want, you’re going to do it anyway. You’re not my problem anymore.”
Feliks swallowed heavily and looked away, and Lithuania knew him well enough to see the disappointment hidden under his cool demeanor. “Well, whatever,” he hissed once he’d regained his composure. “It’s not like I need you, or anything. Your loss, not mine.” Without waiting for Lithuania’s reply, he turned on his heel and marched out of the door.
Always needing to have the last word, Tolys thought in irritation. Like a child.
He stepped back to the window and continued gazing out of it. The sunlight had mostly disappeared now. It was getting dark early these days, a reminder of the winter that was to come sooner than later.
He watched Poland’s figure step out of the doorway and make his way over to his car. The figure turned and craned his neck up in search of Lithuania’s window and Tolys stepped to the side, not wanting to be seen.
Once he’d heard the car engine start, he turned back to his now empty apartment to pick up the last of his belongings that hadn’t yet made their way to Kaunas. His head continued to pound painfully, and he felt slightly nauseous now, his gut still churning and heart beating too fast for his liking.
I’m not yours, he thought as he replayed Poland’s words in his head. I’m no one’s. Not yours, not Russia’s, not anybody else’s.
He was sure that Feliks wouldn’t give up so quickly. He would find out Lithuania’s new address, he would call, send letters, try to corner him at world meetings. But Lithuania wouldn’t budge. He had tolerated a lot, but this was a red line.
You can take this city, he thought bitterly. You can take all of my country, if you want that. You can have all of the territory you think is yours. But it won’t give you what you really want.
Almost on its own will, his mind strayed back to memories of better times: of dances and balls, Feliks throwing his head back and laughing at something Tolys had said, bedrooms bathed in warm candlelight, intertwined bodies, feather-light touches on his collarbone, golden hair splayed out like a halo around Feliks’ head.
Then Lithuania gave himself a shake. There was no use in these kinds of sentimentalities, not when his life and country were at stake. It was over, and that couldn’t be changed, and now he had to get to work.