Hello Peeps. This is me, making a story where Russia gets to not be the bad guy (that being said, I truly don't think of him as the Bad guy in BYM either XD Just... grabbing an opportunity :p).

So, yeah, Russia is -fast- becoming my favourite character. My favourite pairing (DenSweDen) is very nearly being overtaken by RusDenRus (if you don't know the terminology, please, do ask) and I love that neither is even remotely crack. Last one is rare, true, but not crack ^_^v

The year was 1993. Russia, now, no longer Soviet but once again Russia, sat alone in his study, only a single table lamp lit in order to illuminate his work space leaving the rest of the room dim and dark. Not that there was anything to see in the rest of the room, it carried only the bare necessities for a study.

The Slav was admiring two small squares of printed paper.

They were tiny, really. So very small. Small enough to easily lie at the end of his thumb. Small enough, light enough that a damp fingertip could pick one up. And yet, they symbolized so much.

500 years. Allies.

Allies.

But even with that, the two squares represented still more.

Russia contemplatively swiped his hand over the one not written in his beautiful Cyrillic script. Had the letters not been so tiny, he would have traced them.

DANMARK 1493-1993 RUSLAND

He wondered briefly why Denmark had chosen to celebrate it. There was no longer an advantage to being on such friendly terms with Russia. The only too recent collapse of Soviet had weakened him more than he liked to think and on top of that he was public enemy number one. The rest of the Soviet Union had certainly missed no time in distancing themselves from him, even Ukraine and Belarus were avoiding him, and Denmark had other more respectable and strong allies. The rest of the North, the rest of West Europe. The United States of America.

And still the blond had chosen to celebrate their friendship.

He really shouldn't have. So many reasons why he shouldn't. Russia sighed. Listing all the reasons why... he couldn't quite get himself to do it.

1493. It really was a long time ago, even by the standards of technically immortal beings such as Denmark and himself. He still remembered how it happened. Sweden's settlers in Finland had been spreading far, far beyond his borders and he and the overlord of Russia at the time, Ivan the Third, Ivan the Great, had been growing progressively more annoyed with the insolent Swede. Then, Denmark had approached him about a war against the Swedish Chancellor, Sten Sture, who had unfairly been keeping the Danish monarch, King Hans, from his rightful seat on the Swedish throne. In return for those lands that Sweden was inexcusably claiming, Russia agreed to the pact.

He could no longer recite it by heart and the Russian copy had long since been lost, but he still remembered the gist of it. And a few key phrases. "We, Hans, by God's mercy king of Denmark, Norway (and a bunch of other titles that Russia had no reason to keep remembering), concludes friendship and eternal alliance, blah, blah, Our dearest brother and ally; We will be one with him in brotherhood, friendship and alliance..."

It was a beautiful treaty, unlike what people wrote in these impersonal times, and even though he himself had taken advantage of some of the more imprecise wordings and consequently broken the alliance for that generation of humans, now after five hundred years, numerous failed and one successful attempt at a royal marriage between their ruling families, not a single war or armed conflict between them, now that his country was hated and despised by everyone, the alliance had become somewhat sentimental. And precious. Especially since Denmark had decided to celebrate the anniversary with him.

And it still made him smile. "We will be one with Our brother against his enemy and foe, the grand duke of Lithuania, as far as We are able, in truth and no deceit." Denmark had, unfortunately, decided not to commemorate the old alliance, considering that bullying Lithuania was no longer viewed as acceptable and while Russia had thought the Dane would be more than happy to commemorate the times they had beaten Sweden up, and the honey blond man had smiled fondly, his boss had been very strictly against the show of "such barbarianism". The expression had made Denmark pull a face but he hadn't otherwise objected, unfortunately.

Instead, they had agreed to look forward and made a declaration of peace for the next half millennium.

Even so, Russia very much did like to remember. Mathias was loud. And always Enthusiastic. Toris probably still had nightmares of some of his more creative ideas. Or when he and the Dane had beaten Prussia and Denmark had decided that spanking the loser was only appropriate. Prussia sure had howled, though probably more from shame than actual pain, since Mathias had been kind enough to use his bare hands rather than the flat of his blade.

It had been fun.

And Denmark had chosen to celebrate them. Had chosen to stretch out a hand to the estranged superpower and continue the broken relationship that had ended with the Cold War.

Or maybe, rather than ended, it had merely been paused? It was true, their alliance had had rocky periods before, periods where they hardly talked, where Denmark glared when they did talk and he himself had glared right back. And even then, even when Russia had more or less directly cost Denmark his reign over Sweden, even when Russia had been his most manipulative and mean self, when Denmark could have been certain that Prussia or France or Poland-Lithuania would back him up, it had never come to blows between them. Mathias had not even raised the toll or prevented trade from sailing through his waters.

And now... Now Denmark was pouring money and effort into helping his people, re-build his infrastructure, sharing knowledge and resources. He was not the only one, of course. The rest of Europe seemed eager, almost, to help him, but he felt... uncomfortable with their help. Accepting help from an old friend was just eternally different from accepting it from old enemies.

Russia's eyes returned to the stamps and his fingers, now trying to trace the white line printed over the map. The white line that connected St. Petersburg and Moscow to Copenhagen. It was the old sea route. How many times had he sailed that? He had no idea. A lot. Hundreds of times, he supposed, it was only a trip of a few days, which was nothing before air planes made the trip to Copenhagen in hours.

But his fingers were too clumsy to trace even that simple line, barely even able to hint at it. Denmark probably wouldn't have trouble, long and slender as his fingers were. Elegant, even when gripping that ridiculous axe.

He eyed the spot representing Denmark's capital. It was a beautiful city. Old, by now, though he still remembered when it wasn't. It had been strangely clean last time he had visited, too. Not like any city Russia had ever seen before Soviet collapsed, though he had of course seen other cities, clean like it since the fall of the wall, but yet it still seemed... weird. Cities had always been full of trash, that was just how it was. He hadn't thought it would be possible for more than a few hundred people to gather without trash ending up everywhere.

But while Copenhagen had stunk of exhaust fumes the way modern cities did these days, it had been clean. And still beautiful. If not quite as beautiful as St. Petersburg.

Maria... was she buried there?

The big man sighed, rubbing the tip of his nose briefly. The old tsarina had run, fled, back in 1919 and with good reason and she had of course fled back to her birth place and family. Was she happy with that? She had died there, naturally, and been buried with all appropriate pomp. In the country where she was born. But...

Russia still kind of regretted those events. He wasn't sure what exactly, but something had gone wrong.

And the tsarina should be buried in the soil she had ruled with her husband. Maybe Denmark would be amenable to move her remains to her rightful place? After all, Denmark did generally seem amenable, friendly even. Treating him like an equal in need of help rather than a beaten charity case. Of course, Denmark had always treated him like an equal; completely without the awe or fear or contempt everyone had always viewed him with.

Russia didn't even think it was possibly for the tall(ish) Scandinavian to fear him. It was strange. Sometimes he wondered if the Dane even knew what it was, fear. Hell, even in 1940 when Germany had invaded on his way to Norway and Denmark had surrendered so completely uncharacteristically with no fight whatsoever, he hadn't seemed particularly afraid, just... resigned. And a little smug (and Russia had to agree, once he got a look at the agreement Denmark had managed to negotiate with the Third Reich, that he had a lot to be smug about).

Well, smug and, once it became clear that Germany was targeting Russia, angry.

That, honestly, had been rather flattering.

A little surprised, Russia realized that he was smiling. It... had been a while since he had smiled naturally, hadn't it? It was getting harder to recognize his normal smile as a mask, had been for at least a century. Since before the revolution... earlier, still?

With a sigh, Russia opened a drawer, finding a plastic pocket in which he'd store the stamps, at least until he had a proper means of ensuring they weren't damaged. He carefully placed the bits of paper inside the clear plastic before putting it back in the drawer. He didn't really have time to reminisce over old friends, not even if they made him smile. Not even if they were trying to take up old relations. His country was in shambles, the debt was record high, literacy was low, the private sector was non-existent, his hospitals needed funding, his infrastructure needed funding, his vast resources somehow needed to be mined and there was no money to get anything done. There was so much work to do, so much that needed his attention. The stamps hadn't been supposed to distract him this much, it was just that a late courier had just turned up with the finished result and thinking of Denmark's friendly smile was infinitely more attractive than work.

With a frown replacing the cautious smile, cramps returning to his shoulders and a dull ache to his temples the second he picked up his pen again, Russia went back to sorting reports, writing suggestions, coming with his input on what needed priority and what didn't.

Hesitating, running his tongue over his teeth, he tentatively suggested encouraging foreign relations.

PLEASE READ! Historical background for those interested (and my proof that this is not crack)

- The stamps Russia is perusing: m4n14c. livejournal. com/2154. html

- Original treaty from 1493, including a few facts surrounding it (translated by yours truly): sigart. livejournal. com/16690. html

Remove spaces.

Tsarina Maria Feodorovna (né Princess Dagmar of Denmark), whom Russia is thinking about, married the later tsar Alexander III in 1866 (after her previous fiancé, Alexander's big brother had died the year before). She gave birth to the later tsar Nicolas II, the last emperor of Russia. When the Rusian revolution hit, she fled to Copenhagen where she lived out her life, surviving her son by ten years. Her earthly remains was moved back to Russia and interred next to her husbands in St. Petersburg in 2006. Btw, Anastacia's grandmother that she's trying to reach in Dreamworks' animation movie from 1997 is Maria Feodorovna, but I guess Copenhagen wasn't romantic enough for the setting... XD (look her up on wiki, it's nice reading!)

In the 90's, after Soviet's fall, many European countries contributed a lot to get Russia and the rest of the East Block back on its feet. The hope was that if they helped Russia, Russia would be more likely to adopt (western) European ideals of freedom and equality and capitalism and... etc. It didn't quite happen as we imagined. I read an article that it probably is because Russia never had a break with the old style of thinking, like the rest of the East Block did at the time (Russia was the big, bad wolf, therefore, the old Russian way of thinking was bad).

This is possibly going to be the prologue of an actual romance, if I ever get the time.. XD

Please R&R! It makes me happy.