Fffff Here's some little drabble/oneshot I wrote for Lithuania's birthday (February 16), and I decided to post it on here. :D I'm sorry if it sucks. It was actually the first thing I wrote after MONTHS of not writing at all. Also, I didn't mean for it to be historically accurate (well, it is somewhat...)

This little fic is inspired by a story about the naming of Lithuania. Some believe that Lithuania (Lietuva) was named after a little rivulet called the "Lietava", which is located in central Lithuania. No one can really prove it, but it's a likely candidate for the naming of Lithuania. So, I decided to post a story about it. Plus, it sounded cute, and I love Liet. :3

I don't actually know what time period this takes place, but just assume it's between 900-1000, since the first record of Lithuania's name dates as far back as 1009.

I marked it as spiritual because...it's kinda spiritual-y? Well, it was the closest thing. :P

Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN HETALIA. LIKE, EVER.

Naming

The young boy sighed and headed down the forest path. He looked no older than ten but he was in fact much older than that. His memory stretched out for more than half a century.

He had just come out of an important meeting with his leaders. For the very first time, they would attempt to invade another land, some place to the south. The boy had never been outside the area where his people resided before.

The boy had come to know this particular forest as a place away from all of the drama and politics that went around in the towns and villages. It was a quiet wood - not that many wild animals lived in these woods, and the ones who lived here were either too scared to approach him or didn't really mind him. Despite the usual horrors people told about being attacked by bears and wolves, they ignored him - just going about their business as the boy freely walked through the woods and fields. Perhaps that also came with being different.

He didn't remember being born or having parents or growing up like any normal child. He was just…there, just suddenly came into existence in the middle of a field. When he came out of that field and upon the first village, he spoke the people's language and the regional dialect perfectly. He found that he had a sort of bizarre connection to these people, like he felt that they were a part of him. And he felt that these weren't all of this people - there were hundreds, thousands of people that belonged to him. All of their joys, sorrows, and anger flowing through his veins like blood. He knew that he wasn't human; he was just simply too connected to these people, this land. They were one.

At first, he played with the other children and a family even took him under their wing while he pondered his next move. And then, things started to act strange. As his friends and family grew older, he stayed the same, never growing older. The villagers watched him warily, growing more and more hostile with each year he stayed the same. He heard talks of them planning to execute them, and he ran away.

Eventually, he entered a much larger city bursting with life and excitement. Somehow, he knew what he was supposed to do, and went up to the duke's estate. As he explained his origins, the duke actually didn't look surprised at all. He said that he had been waiting for someone like the boy for a very long time. From then on out, he had stayed in the duke's palace, been waited on by his servants, and was taught the history of other countries as well. During this entire time, the duke called him by the name "Samogitia". The boy knew that the name was partially correct, yes. But he knew that it wasn't his name. Not truly.

The boy pushed the hazelnut brown hair out of his eyes and continued into the wood, following the sound of a rushing stream. He smiled as he came upon the small, clear rivulet, and he kicked off his boots and waded into the water. The water was cool, but not cold enough where it was uncomfortable.

Something niggled in the back of his mind as he stood in the water. There was something something about this stream that called out to him. What was it's name again? The Letoka? Letaka? Lietauka?

Lietava?

That was it. The Lietava. It had a beautiful-sounding name, perfect for the flowing stream.

"Lietava," he murmured, tasting the words on his lips. It sounded almost right. Almost…

"Lietava…" he said again.

He decided to change it around a bit.

"Lietova."

Nope.

"Lietauva."

Eh.

"Lieteva."

Close, but…

"Lietuva?"

Something clicked inside him. Yes. Yes. Yesyesyes! That was it! That was his name!

"Lietuva," he said again, unmistakeable euphoria flooded him as he said his true name for the first time. "Lietuva." He jumped up and down, splashing water everywhere. "Lietuva! Lietuva! I'm Lietuva!" He ran up the bank, slipping his boots back on and dripping everywhere. He knew what his name was - he knew the true name of his country. The country that would climb to the top of the world and grow into a great nation of kings, writers, and philosophers and would stretch over thousands and thousands of miles of rivers, lakes, fields, forests. The country that would become one of the greatest in all of Europe. The country that would eventually be conquered and its people oppressed. The country that would rise again and take its place among the other countries of the world.

Yes. He was that country - he was, is, and always will be.

Lietuva,
Tėvyne mūsų...

Samogitia is actually a part of eastern-central Lithuania.

In case you don't know, the last two lines are the beginning of the Lithuanian national anthem, "Tautiška giesmė".

I hope you liked it!