Notes: This fic was posted in my journal on August 23rd, 2009, to celebrate the 20th anniversary of the Baltic Way.

Chain of Freedom

They met in the park. It was raining. Beneath a tree they stood with their faces close together and their pale hands shoved in the pockets of their waterproof jackets. The slow, soft drone of the rain drowned out the sound of their speaking.

"Why are you getting cold feet now?" Estonia asked, his voice low and the question delivered gently.

Lithuania shook his head. "I'm just worried." He saw Estonia raise an eyebrow, and he quickly added, "It's a good idea, but anything could happen. A protest of this size..." He looked away, trailing off, the thought unable to fully form itself.

It was the same as every other time they had met to talk about the plan. The idea. The human chain linking the cities where their hearts rested. It would be an enormous show of protest, of defiance, but a fragile one, and every time they discussed it, one or two or all three would have doubts. Should it be done? It shouldn't. It should.

Estonia leaned against the tree trunk and folded his arms over his chest, repeating the point he had made many times before. "At this size, I don't think anything would happen. Not violence."

"And we have everything to g-gain from it," Latvia added. He stepped close to Estonia, showing his support. "The s-smaller protests are good, but not enough. I think." He paused and nibbled his lower lip, trying to conjure up the right words. "We need to try something else."

"Yes," Estonia agreed. Lithuania sighed. Estonia watched him, certain that it would not take much to sway him. He continued, delivering the line he had kept in reserve, the one that would leave no doubts. "At this point the people have decided, and it's too late to change it. They're going to go on with it no matter if we're actually there or not."

All three of them were quiet. The rain continued to fall, hushed on the grass. Lithuania watched it come down, and Estonia and Latvia watched Lithuania. Though they knew what his reply would be there was still some sense of relief when he nodded and said, "Better to be there, then."

"Yes."

"For support. And in case something doesn't... doesn't work out," Latvia said. He smiled nervously.

Lithuania said nothing. All three lingered on what those words implied, tense and worried and questioning. What if something happened? What if the protest was broken up? What if everything went according to plan? What if it did, but nothing came of it, and all the effort amounted to nothing? There was no need to voice the questions as each of them could sense what the other two was thinking, every one of them quietly running through the questions in his own mind.

The silence was broken by a rustling as Lithuania rummaged in his coat. He drew out a small piece of paper. "I received a goodwill message," he said softly as he handed it to Latvia, who quickly read the contents then passed it on to Estonia.

It was written three times over, in Lithuanian, Latvian and Estonian. It read simply, "Good luck. Stay strong." Some of the words were not quite spelled correctly and the letters were uneven and shaky-looking as if the writer had done it with his non-dominant hand. The pale pink shade of the paper left little question as to its origin.

Estonia handed the note back to Lithuania, who wordlessly slipped it into his pocket.

"H-he has his own work too, doesn't he," Latvia said quietly.

"Yes. He does."

----

When they dissolved to go their separate ways, it was with a renewed confidence and hope.

"Let's get this done."

"P-peacefully."

"And hope something good comes out of it."

They all nodded. That was how it would be.

Soon they left that spot, their heads full of images of what would happen. Protest and song and maybe even success. The date loomed close and they welcomed it.

----

Buses. Noise. Vehicles. People everywhere. The air in Tallinn hummed with voices and a movement that was direct, organized, and purposeful.

The salty air whispered with song. It wasn't the first protest they had seen, but on this warm August day it seemed different. It was different. The wind itself sounded different.

Estonia drew in a deep breath. A breeze touched his hair, toyed with it, mumbled some lost message of hope in his ear, then moved on. The very ground beneath his feet seemed to tremble in anticipation of what was to come.

His people were around him. They were already singing. Good, he thought silently as he watched them. Go on. Sing so loudly they'll hear you in Riga. In Vilnius. In Moscow.

---

In Riga the noise and movement was present too, a loud murmuring of people on foot, in vehicles, in buses. Latvia licked his lips and shoved his hands in the pockets of his light summer jacket.

The line would form soon, and he would be a part of it. The three of them had agreed on that. They would stand with their people. It was an uplifting thought, but his mind still lingered on the possibility of something untoward happening. The confident words he had spoken on that rainy day seemed to fall away in his head.

His insides twisted with nervousness.

Deep breaths. He tried to calm himself. It would be all right. As he looked up he saw that the sky was bright and the streets were full of people. His people. He breathed in and felt the unease wash away.

----

In Vilnius, slightly removed from the crowd, Lithuania watched. He listened. His language was on his people's lips. His colours were in their hands. There were smiles on some faces, small ones, the kind characteristic of a people unaccustomed to doing it.

His own lips were drawn rather thinly. The anxiety he had felt days before still lingered. In spite of Estonia's insistence that surely everything would go according to the plan, Lithuania still worried.

The message was still in his jacket pocket. For the tenth time that day Lithuania slipped it out, unfolded the endlessly-creased paper, and read over Poland's message. "Good luck. Stay strong." He remembered Latvia's words. "He has his own work, too." Yes, Lithuania thought. He did. They all did.

He looked up over the edge of the note. In front of him were his people. They moved together, acting with a purpose. With confidence. The line was forming.

Lithuania drew in a deep breath, folded the note over again, then went to join them.

----

It was August 23rd, 1989. It was 7 PM.

Hands joined and fingers knitted as two million people stood together.

Two million voices sang and made the air ring with hope.

Three nations united in a chain for one purpose.

Freedom.

The world listened.