It was the early morning, the air filled with nothing but the smell of the wet earth, moss and grass.
Rain showered across the forests and the distant grasslands, leaves and branches swaying wildly in the strong winds that battered the foliage like a miniaturized battle between two forms of nature. The snow was already melting; clumps still formed and standing shakily at the roots of the trees and on top of the bushes of holly and bundles of cloudberry bushes that were scattered across the floor like decoration. Bright berries barely visible amongst the dark leaves, growing masses of mud and the rain which seems to blur almost everything to the eye.

The sounds of the rain and wind were almost like a song. Running through the forest and echoing through the halls of the castle that stood nearby; hidden amongst the forest and laying protected behind the cracked and ancient walls that had been standing there for hundreds of years. Still scarred from battles that went back in history and speckled with the stains of soldiers who had once tried to climb over the stone with the desperation to destroy the beauty that was held inside; a remnant of what could have been murdered and yet still stood to this day.

Protected, but not safe from the threat of war and the enemy who still planned his foe's demise.

Russia sat in his quarters with no one but himself. Occupying himself with a small stack of letters he had been given while he was searching for the mortal in his home, sitting at a round table of dark varnished oak.
His claws ran over the slightly battered bits of paper as his eyes ran over the neatly written words and cursive letters, grumbling lowly to himself like a disgruntled animal- tired with the constant news and the murky facts he was being told by his allies.

"Seems like Finland is doing his best with the borders," Russia mumbled to himself with narrowing eyes. His mind stretching towards the image of smoke, ash and blood- the broken forests, stained snow and the sounds that would have been filling the once beautiful terrain.
The battles that were edging closer to his home. His Kingdom.

...To his people who he had hidden away.

That made the King perk up, lowering the letter to the table. How long had it been since he had last visited the rest of his kind? Their homes and towns- to see their beautiful architecture and the hidden beauties of their home that they had kept away from war and violence for so long.

Take a walk down the hills and cobble-laid streets; past the children who played together, the vendors and the families and friends who stood and sat at the sides at tables and walls, talking and drinking whatever was being sold close by.

The last time he had been there he had enjoyed it along with a handful of his siblings and yet had also dreaded the visit. Had feared that when he would arrive that the whole of the city he had worked so hard for to protect would be destroyed, or in ruin.
But thankfully it hadn't, and he had tried his hardest to relax and smile at his people; shoving away the dark and deafening thoughts to the deepest part of his mind. Hiding away his fears, worries and nightmares.

Russia exhaled gently, leaning back in his seat to roll his neck around and gaze up at the ceiling blankly. Staring at the carvings and murals. The intricate details- the beauty. Something that made a small smile bloom on his face for a short while before he pushed himself out of his chair with a grunt and started towards the door. Passing the bookshelves that decorated his quarters, and the tapestries of silk, crimson and golden thread that hung down the walls like the vines of a wondrous plant of ivy.
Ridden with the past history of his ancestors, and the futures he had made for himself and his people. All hanging down and woven into the thread- pieces of history and art merged together.

The King stepped out of his room, tail shoving the door shut behind him lazily as he took a few glances around, pupils glowing gently. Humming with a kind of power that couldn't be named. With a tired sigh, he looked down at his claws and pressed them tightly into fists, gritting his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut with a painful grunt. His horns shifted slightly, the charms dangling at the movement before the completely vanished- horns fading away into nothing.

Only then did Russia breathe and open his eyes, panting heavily at his successful attempt to shift between his different forms. Met with Kazakhstan who stood at the end of the hallway with a blank look on his face- not surprised at the sight of his older brother's meagre transformation.
But the Admiral smiled and looked down at the floor with half-lidded eyes, "You know you can never transform in public. Around the people you may not truly know- the enemies who are hiding between known faces."
The hybrid walked closer, wings spreading gently behind him like a trailing cloak, "it weakens you Russia. You need to be careful," he mumbled.

Russia stared down at his brother, eyes narrowed and slightly distant. "I know... But I'm not a child anymore, Kaz."He grumbled, turning away and storming off down the hallways. Gritting his teeth as his horns reappeared with their golden rings. Leaving the hybrid standing there with nothing more than a lonely stare.

It was always a nice walk around the castle when it wasn't busy or preparing for an inevitable gruesome battle- something Russia had witnessed and taken part in countless times. But it seemed like the walks these days had been less pleasant, especially with the pressure and weight of the news he had been getting and the worrying thoughts of what his enemies were doing back in their Kingdoms.
It wasn't a fun time for him.
With Finland's forces stretching to their limits even with the aid of Germany's soldiers, it was difficult for Russia to even consider giving himself a break from things. After all, he still felt like he had hardly done anything.
...Had he done anything? He had dealt with his border issues, protected his land, kept away his people from the enemy, killed off any of the soldiers who had snuck into his land.

Though... It did seem like he had begun to get a little selfish with his decisions. Something he would have to discuss with Lithuania and Kazakhstan another time.

Russia cocked his head to the side and perked up when he spotted the mortal sitting in the garden on a bench. Staring at the flowers and hugging his knees to his chest, all alone and quiet in the light rain. Shielded from the weather by a large oak tree that stood over him like a sleeping giant- subconsciously protecting him from the cold and wet.

"Hm..." The King watched for a few minutes, "maybe... it's time I acted a little nicer towards him..." He spoke composedly to himself. Fidgeting with the claws of the bear's paws that held his furs together over his shoulders- his favourite animal, the one that he respected and protected, and the one that he also wore. Almost like a dark trophy.

✞———————❖———————✞

America rubbed at his eyes tiredly, tilting his head to the side and rolling it a few times, resting it on top of his knees. After the previous day, he hadn't been able to get even a few minutes of sleep. His head was full of thoughts and questions and worries that he couldn't let go- couldn't forget or get over with. After what Kazakhstan had said... all he could think about was his family. The family he had been ripped away from and yet had also abandoned and had tried to forget about. Not that he could ever really forget the horrors and the pain he had endured from his father and the expectations he had for him.

He shivered and bit his lip, closing his eyes slightly and attempting to relax.
The garden was peaceful in a way for him, although he preferred the vast open fields of wildflowers or the few clearings in the middle of forests where bluebells and wild roses would bloom in. But at least he was able to enjoy this small piece of freedom he could have along with the sounds of the rain overhead on the bench he had spotted under the oak tree.

Leaves and grass shuffled close by, and America slowly opened his eyes at the sound before he blinked and looked up with a tired look on his face.

Russia was looking down at him, rain dripping from his ears and his tail, eyes glowing brighter as he stared quietly. Showing no sign of aggression or the anger he had first given towards the shorter male.
He seemed to hesitate to talk but pushed himself, "why are you out in the rain, Amerika?" He mumbled, accent slurring when he pronounced the few words and the other's name.
Though the King was trying his hardest to be kind, the smaller flinched and shook his head a little, rubbing at his eyes again as if trying to hold back tears.

So Russia looked over to the space next to America, "may I?" And when he had gotten a subtle nod of approval he sat down beside him with a small gap between the two, staring out towards the garden as he leaned back against the wood. Tail curling to rest over his lap like a large animal, fur ragged and sticking out with raindrops still clinging.

The two sat in silence, listening to nothing but the sounds of the singing rain beating the small stone paths and the leaves of the plants that surrounded them. Russia took a glance over to America and then looked back to the garden, focusing his gaze on the small forget-me-nots that bloomed in small clumps at the bottom of the apple trees and rose bushes. Then he dragged his gaze to the distant large bushes of blue hydrangeas- some flowers turning lighter shades of purple and pink. Bushy leaves speckled with darker spots and raindrops.

And then finally, he looked at his all-time favourite blue flower. The blue hibiscus. That bloomed ever so gently in a large clump between two rose bushes. Petals a wonderful shade of the sky with small gradients of purple and violet, still speckled with small spots of golden pollen from the previous day of pollinating.
The King pushed himself off the bench, and America watched him move across the garden and carefully step through the path. Narrowly avoiding his tail from becoming tangled amongst some of the roses and blackberry brambles, eventually crouching down in front of the clumps of blue and purple.
With a careful hand, he plucked a flower from the hibiscus bush, the stem and leaves nearly wrapping around his claws like a gentle snake. The blue petals glowed in Russia's vision, contrasting the colour of his skin and matching the golden charms he wore. Humming, he pushed himself back up and turned to walk over to America, grazing his claws against the petals of the flower with extreme delicacy.

As if he had become nothing more than a docile beast; all because of a flower.

"The blue hibiscus is pretty, isn't it?" The King spoke, still gazing down at the piece of nature he held ever so carefully and America stared at it from where he sat and smiled a little. Rubbing at his eyes and sighing shakily, "yeah... it is..."

"Hm... the colours..." Russia cocked his head and glanced over to the other, "they seem to...

remind me of you..." He said, slowly reaching over to give the flower to America.

It would be an understatement to say he was surprised as America looked at the flower with widened eyes, still slightly watery from his previous discreet sobbing. And with a small smile, he took the flower from Russia's now gentle hands and pulled it close to his chest. Examining the patterns and veins of purple that stretched across the blue petals; the gold of the pollen and the raindrops that still clung to the leaves. Though it made no smell like the petals of roses, America still enjoyed it and looked back to Russia with a hum.
"Thank you..."

The werewolf stood over him in a moment of silence, the mortal's small smile quietly turning into a frown as he nearly began to inspect the taller. The werewolf and the demon; a powerful mix of strength and magic. Deathly and sinister. And yet- his enemy seemed to also be a gentle giant.

One that denied being kind. And hid away his true self like it was a burden- a weakness. Despite the horns, the sharp eyes, the golden rib-like bands on the sides of his chest and the claws he regularly had... Maybe he was just a softie?
America gazed up at him and eventually pulled his eyes away from the beast, narrowing them and glancing at the flower once more. The tightness in his arms and legs had ebbed, the tenseness having slackened and eased to his luck. With gentle carefulness, he tucked the stem under the band that stretched across the chest of his uniform, smiling slightly. The blues and purples matching with the gold on his shoulders and the silver buttons that were sown systematically into the fabric.
The rest of his uniform was drenched and stupidly, he had decided to go out into the garden without his hat- his hair now soaked and dripping with rainwater. Not that he really cared as he pushed himself off of the bench to Russia's surprise. Meandering around him and taking a few steps down the path of cracked stone; flowers blooming amongst the aged path.

"...That was kind of you..."He mumbled, crouching down and resting his arms on his knees- back turned to the werewolf. "...Kind coming from someone I should consider an enemy..." A sigh.

And yet also a sign of acceptance and understanding.

The flower on his uniform was Russia's symbol of peace- though discreet and maybe even irrelevant- it meant a lot to the smaller and the werewolf who stood behind him.

The breeze strengthened in cold and thrust and the plants and shrubs quivered like terrified animals, and America didn't notice Russia perk up with animalistic instinct. Eyes dilating and changing in colour and power, ears flicking and turning before he turned his head and looked around the garden with something that could have looked like concern or shock.

The smaller country plucked a golden flower from a bush, inspecting the petals that had been speckled with orange and a darker shade of amber. A clone. A perfect clone and image of Russia's eyes. With a wince, he shoved himself up to his feet and turned to face Russia who was looking around like a wild animal- a predator searching for something.

But he didn't even consider anything. Not even caring or bothering to see if something was really wrong- and he held that damned flower close to his chest as if his life depended on it.

"I...-"

"RUSSIA."

America immediately shoved the flower behind his back, gripping the stem as tightly as possible. Still staring up at Russia and watching as the King's expression changed from shocked to terrified and angry, eyes wide and burning like a wildfire.
And with slow confusion, America followed his gaze before his eyes widened too amongst the sight upon the doorway.

Kazakhstan was panting heavily, canines sticking out, wings ruffled and stained with blood. Wrapped around and helping him hold up what looked like an injured soldier. A soldier who wore tight leathers and furs around his waist and neck- furs that would have once been grey and white. Now bloodied and covered in bits of dirt and mud. He wasn't like a creature America had ever seen before in this kingdom.

This stranger having small horns and ears that belonged to a deer and presumably a tail too. All speckled with white- colours that brought nothing more than guilt and fear to America as he looked back on the memories he had had of killing off deer in the forest. All for his own nourishment and needs.

But Kazakhstan winced as the soldier slightly staggered and coughed, blood dripping onto stone before he collapsed onto his knees. Metal smashing against the path- the Admiral immediately getting down to help the fallen man, running his hands under him and yanking him over to his legs.

"What happened," Russia snarled, taking a step closer and inspecting the colours that had been painted on the arms of the soldier. The whites and blues.
America could see Russia's face pale and his tail beat the floor like a stagnant creature when he recognized those colours.

Kazakhstan flinched at the groans of the soldier he held in his arms before he stared up towards his brother- his King. Meeting his eyes.

"Finland's troops have fallen across the border. Germany's next line of soldiers won't be able to make it in time.

Britannica's forces are on their way to the castle."

And America gripped that flower so tightly behind him that he broke the stem, the name of the enemy echoing through his head as he stood there like a frozen statue.
Not even noticing as Russia began roaring and sprinted into the castle. Commands and orders bellowing through the castle halls.

As the Kingdom prepared for its inevitable attack.

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fuck

That took too long, and I'm sorry again for that..

I have to say, I haven't been having the greatest time with my life so that's why my writing is absolutely horrible and slow as hell god- </3

But anyways, sorry again if the writing seems a bit off- I hope people enjoy it anyway :')

Yes, a lot of lore and change in this chapter- I thought it was time I added a little bit of drama and a start to a new beginning.

I'm not too sure on what to say... but I wanted to say thank you again to all the people who read this story, like it, and comment some wonderful things! The support is amazing a.. it truly makes me smile c:

but anyways, have a sketch that has nothing to do with this chapter </3

it's messy as hell but honestly, I don't really care anymore and I'm too tired to be bothered to make anything else.

Word count: 3106