Canada was completely still as he listened to the footsteps come closer. He gripped his bloody ice pick tighter, hoping that whoever appeared would be as easy to dispatch as his brother. He could hear them on the threshold of his clearing, a few more steps and they would be upon him. The cracking of branches and the movement of trees signaled their decent upon Canada's world of trickery and mangled bodies and blood soaked snow. Preparing to fight, he was met with pleasant surprise when it was Russia who walked through the trees.

Canada's face filled with excitement as he flung his arms wide and shouted, "Ivan!"

Russia looked at the blood covered nation and pulled what was almost a real smile, "Ah, Matvey, it seems that you have been busy."

The younger nation giggled and flashed his wild eyes towards Russia, "Alfred is so oblivious. It was time for him to see the light." He punctuated his statement with a sharp kick to his brother's corpse. Canada then pocketed his pick, stepped gingerly through the red slush around him, and approached Russia. He grabbed Russia's hand and began to pull him towards America.

"Come see how well I—." He stopped when he actually looked at the other nation. His brows furrowed and he inspected Russia's coat. "Why are you covered in blood?"

Ivan closed his eyes and played innocent, "You see, I went to find Matvey at his house and found clothes thrown all over his yard," Canada had forgotten about his tantrum this morning. "I went to see if he was alright. I try door and find it open so I look around and find your strange, talking dog-bear, but no Matvey. Dog-bear tells me you left and then crazy, pervert burglar bursts into Matvey's house yelling. So I take care of him to keep dog-bear safe for Matvey! Afterwards dog-bear tells me to follow the footprints and I find Matvey here."

Canada seemed to buy this explanation and even thank him. Russia was fine with this. His Canada didn't need to know that the crazy, pervert burglar was France paying his once-colony a visit. That would not do at all. Canada was his.

"So what did you want me to see, Matvey," Russia urged Canada on with a pat to his back.

Canada looked dazed, "Oh. Oh! Come see the pretty! Come see how well I did!" He was tugging Russia towards the slush again. When they reached America, Russia almost laughed at the irony. With his eyes forever facing heavenwards, America had died surrounded by his favorite colors: the red of his blood, the white of the snow, and the blue of his eyes. It was too perfect and Russia almost wished he had a way to capture this sight forever. Instead he turned to Canada who had begun shifted from side to side in the slush with his eyes closed. He found this confusing until it dawned on him that Canada was enjoying the sound the liquid covered snow made beneath his feet.

Russia giggled darkly, "Is Matvey enjoying himself."

Canada smiled that twisted smile and looked at Russia with his forever shifting, violet eyes. He threw his head back, his face turning scarlet, and hissed in almost ecstasy, "Yes."

By doing this he would have given Russia a full view of his neck but it was blocked by a scarf. Russia had to push down his possessive urges when he realized it was his scarf.

"I see Matvey enjoyed my gift," Russia was giving Canada a teasing look.

Canada looked over with an odd "Buh" then started to nervously fidget with the fraying end of the scarf; the blood on his hands further staining the cream fabric. "It's so dirty," he choked out. "Didn't mean to. So sorry. I didn't. How could I? So bad. Wh—"Russia pulled him out of his panic attack by walking over and shaking Canada's shoulders.

"It's okay," he was looking into Canada's eyes hoping that the other nation wouldn't see how not okay it was. He was reining in his heartbreak; sacrifices had to be made if you wanted something enough.

Canada's eyes focused for a moment, pleading, "Really?"

Russia stared into those wide orbs barely believing that this hopeful thing had just killed his own brother in cold blood. Then he smiled, "Really." This was perfect.

Canada wrapped his arms around Russia's waist and pressed his face into his neck. He murmured, "Thank you, Ivan," before he gasped and pushed away. He then walked behind Russia and grabbed America's arms in order to pull him out of the stain his blood had made on the ground. When he had pulled his brother a good distance away, Canada returned to the patch of red snow and held his hand out towards his companion. "Dance with me?"

Russia looked bewildered for a moment but decided to indulge young the young nation by taking his hand and giggling, "It would be my honor, dear Matvey, but why?"

Canada's eyes on a starry appearance, "The slush makes the most beautiful sound. It could be the soundtrack to our life."

Canada grabbed Russia's hand and they started to spin in some mockery of a waltz. Their boots made wet smacking sounds and were soon dyed a dark, dark red. Russia could barely believe it; Canada was walking right into his arms with barely any more guidance. Maybe now would be the time "Matvey."

Canada looked up from where their fingers were entangled, "Yes?"

"Would you join with me?" Russia was wearing the best smile he could pull off and knew that he had Canada in his grasp no matter what.

Canada had halted their movements and it seemed as if all of time had stopped around them. His face was a mixture of joy, sadness, and defiance. He seemed to ponder everything in the moments they were stopped, from the meaning of the universe to what his boss had for breakfast last week. He finally looked into Russia's eyes and his face still held a wide range of emotions, "I want to join you, but first let me shine. I will…recruit…everyone. I will take on our brothers and sisters until they all stand under my flag. Then I will join you. My flag will be yours and we can all be together forever. A beautiful, loving family; we will be the best."

If Russia could, he would cry, his little Canada was far more brilliant than he had ever expected. He had never believed that someone would go so far just for him. I was amazing and oh so perfect. "Do you promise, Matvey?"

Canada pulled their hands apart and reached for his pick. He slid the sharp point across his palm until the skin broke and his blood reached the surface. He then did the same to Russia. Suddenly Russia understood that he was serious. They were going to form this pact in the style of the old days. Just as he thought this, Canada grabbed his hand and pressed their palms together. At the same time his brought their lips together and so the deal was made. 'Bound in blood and sealed with a kiss,' as it was written in text that no one studied anymore, but it was these bonds that were the strongest.

Canada pulled away and whispered, "Promise."

That was it. The deal was made and it was never to be broken. Canada was to be Russia's innocent warrior and greatest love. While Canada would be forever remembered. His name would sweep the world and some day he would stand at the top. Not quite the king, but so, so close.

And so the tale comes to an end. Thank you all for enduring the journey and for dealing with the long waits. I hope that this was a satisfying end and that you enjoyed it. I bid you all farewell and hope to meet next time.

Stay shiny, my loves.