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Into the Dark	By : ArcadiaEclipse Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 1571 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters. I make no money from my fanfiction.

Chapter List
- 1-Into the Dark
- 1
Warnings: Het (RussiaxBelarus), angst, language, incest, hurt/comfort and explicit sexual depictions ahead. This fanfic is intended for adult readers only.

~ * ~ Into the Dark ~ * ~

By ArcadiaEclipse

I long ago accepted that Ivan had absolutely no interest in making me his wife. Ironic really that as the days then weeks passed without me stalking after him at all hours of the day and night my brother actually began responding to my penned letters instead of returning them unopened. Maybe it was my sudden interest in growing all manner of exotic tea roses outside my home that changed his mind about me, but although his letters were often brimming with gardening tips Ivan seemed to primarily enjoy reminiscing with me over memories of our childhood together growing up in St. Petersburgwith our big sister.

All my life I had only wanted to be loved by him, held by his strong arms and to fight beside him if ever we were thrown into battle together. Strange that he actually seemed willing to let me grow a little closer to him now that I had left his Soviet Unionbehind and sought my own freedom. Was he lonely perhaps? I had heard stories of his other housemates leaving him one by one, but I was never much alarmed by their imminent departure until his letters suddenly stopped.

‘Sister’, he wrote to me, ‘I have heard voices as of late, whispers of betrayal echoing through the long hallways of our childhood home. There is much that I have lost already and few allies fill these empty rooms now, but I cannot shake this impending feeling of dread that washes over my heart whenever I catch my former friends speaking animatedly only to fall silent when I enter their midst. I have spent many nights worrying over the future, sister, but never before have I actually feared that I might be in danger. Lately I have taken to locking myself in my bedroom lest mutinous hands attempt to tear their freedom from me by force.’

Like an idiot I had written back with my sympathies and reassured him that all would be well again very soon. Never did I receive a response to my letter, however, and although I sent first one then a half dozen in follow-up, Ivan never once wrote back. As the weeks went by, my mind began running wild with mingled worry for his health and dread that I had been far too nonchalant when it came to my brother’s safety. I knew all too well of the crushing obedience that being part of his Unionentailed, and who was I to assume that no other nation would grow restless, even violently so when faced with another decade of Soviet oppression?

January snow whipped brutally across my face whilst the blistering wind invaded every seam of my winter coat, but I refused to waste another day praying to a god that I didn’t believe in that Ivan would finally write back to reassure me that all was indeed well in his household. Never would I forgive myself if harm had befallen my big brother after his last letter when I failed to do a damn thing to help him.

The wind clambering over my back howled and clawed at both my coat and the snow-dampened hem of my dress, but I tugged firmly at the latch on his door, completely consumed with the need to reach Ivan and nothing in the world would keep us apart for another day. Growling and cursing the blistering wind, I planted my foot firmly on the door jam and used all of my strength to force the creaking hinges open against the wind rushing around me. Thoroughly exhausted, I finally slipped inside away from the winter chaos and cold.

Fear rose like bile in my chest barely a moment after I shut the door and gazed anxiously around the large foyer. For some reason it was bitterly cold inside of my brother’s home, scarcely warmer than the January blizzard howling outside his door still. I could hear the wind tearing the shingles loose and rattling the window panes as if it was a living beast that sought entrance to our childhood home but grew all the more enraged the longer that it was denied.

Hugging the heavy coat tighter around my body, I hurriedly moved to the stairs and up into the Eastern wing where I knew Ivan’s bedroom to be. He had mentioned locking himself into his room to remain secure against mutiny, and I could only surmise that he might still be safely inside. ‘Please’, I begged every god from any religion that I could conceive of as I walked down the long hallway with a growing sense of foreboding, ‘Please let him be okay…’

My heart sank instantly upon spotting Ivan’s bedroom door ripped completely from its hinges and lying broken on the floor of the hallway. Although it was still bitter cold in his bedroom, my heart leapt when I walked past the old fireplace and detected a faint hint of lingering warmth as if a fire had heated the old stones not so long ago. Someone was here, though whether it was my brother or common thieves I could not ascertain just yet.

The room was in a state of severe disrepair, littered with broken furniture and clothes, and I could see half of an old desk chair still smoking in the fireplace having evidently be burned for warmth. If it was my brother, then why had he not gone into the cellar for firewood? I knew where Ivan kept his wood stockpiled in enormous stacks to prepare for the brutal cold of winter. Perhaps he had run out of wood after barricading himself inside his room, but everyone was gone now. Why not seek out firewood if he was-

Blood, dark and oxidized as if it had remained on the carpet for weeks caught my attention and I froze mid-step to look at the terrifying splatter and streaks staining my brother’s possessions. Heaven help me…

“I-Ivan? Ivan, it’s me. It’s Natalia. Are you here, brother?” My mouth felt dry like cotton as I tried to speak through my mounting dread. “Brother…are you hurt?”

There was no response, but as I turned to leave in hopes of finding him elsewhere a soft rattling from the closet caught my attention and I froze although my heart was racing in hopes that my beloved brother had simply hidden himself after hearing me enter his home. There remained the possibility that it was burglars, however, and just in case I removed the long knife tucked securely into my waist sash and gripped the closet latch tightly.

“Brother, I’m not going to hurt you. I was so worried…” Slowly I opened the door and was instantly flooded with relief to see my darling big brother curled up in a ball on the floor within. “Ivan,” I laughed softly and slipped the knife back into my sash, “aren’t you a little old to play hide and seek?”

“I’m sorry,” he rasped quietly. His voice was soft but scratchy as if the Russian had not consumed a drink of water in days.

“It’s okay, brother. I worried about you when your letters stopped, but I don’t know how you could possibly continue writing like this.” I tried to remain cheerful when stepping away from the closet so he could emerge and instead busied myself with opening his dusty curtains to let in a flood of fading daylight damped by the clouds still busy dumping a thick blanket of snow over all of St. Petersburg. “Why were you sitting in the…dark…”

With the light streaming in and my brother standing meekly before me I could fully take in the horror of his situation now. My brother’s eyes, the beautiful amethyst orbs that I had dreamed of gazing into for hours on end were dull and glassy now, accented by thick scar tissue and dried blood in the creases above his cheeks. I couldn’t breathe with my horror, I couldn’t think though the rage rising up in my chest for whoever would do this to my beautiful brother, but I could only stand there and stare silently at the wretched evidence of his blindness.

“I am always in the dark now, sister. Please…forgive me for not writing a letter to explain my rather unfortunate predicament.”

“Oh, Ivan…”

He tensed slightly as I threw my arms around him to cry softly into his chest, but after a moment of initial apprehension I could feel his strong arms wind around my back to hold me tenderly against him. It was my worst nightmare, and yet…my brother was alive. Ivan was alive and with me, and I vowed then and there to spend every day of my life protecting him while plotting revenge against whoever had seen fit to blind my darling big brother.

“It’s snowing, brother,” I brushed my tears away but he couldn’t see me smiling sad but sweetly up at him anyway. “All the world is white and pure again.”

“It feels like snow,” he agreed, but the ensuing silence was thick between us.

“You…um…you’re losing weight, brother. Have you been eating okay?”

“Not recently.”

“Come with me to the kitchen. I will cook something for us both.”

He stubbornly tried to walk on his own but after knocking his knees into a few pieces of fallen furniture I gripped his elbow lightly and led him through the hallway and down the long staircase into the kitchen beyond. There was evidence that Ivan had managed to stumble down there a few times- bread left out of the cupboard and cereal on the counter, but I quietly cleaned his mess away without comment before searching the refrigerator for something to make.

“Did you want lapsha or tyurya?”

He shook his head and I couldn’t help but smile.

“I can make us pelmeni. I haven’t forgotten big sister’s recipe even after all of these years.”

The little meat dumplings were always his favorite meal growing up, and I wasn’t the least surprised to see the corners of his lips tip upwards into a small smile as he nodded. Years ago he used to hide just outside the kitchen doorway and avoided me at all costs until I had finished boiling the last of the dumplings and sautéed the butter until browned for dipping. Today, however, I was rather happy for the rare pleasure of his company as the afternoon darkened into dusk outside of the small kitchen where I cooked. There were times when I would walk past him and Ivan seemed to tense for a moment but after sitting across from him at the table while the pelmeni boiled he seemed to gradually grow accustomed to my presence.

Slowly I reached across the worn tabletop to gently touch his hands with just the tips of my fingers. Although the Russian jerked his hand back for a second as if startled he slowly returned his hands to the center of the table and I was content to smile up at him while clasping his hand softly.

“Do you remember the first time that we had ice cream, brother? Big sister scrimped and saved for months just so we could have a special treat on Christmas.”

Although his unseeing eyes remained glazed and fixed downwards at the table, I could see a small smile on his lips as I recounted our childhood memories.

“I remember. It was so cold that December and we didn’t really want to eat it.”

“Yes. We didn’t have heating that winter, I think…”

“Or the one after that.” He nodded. “But we huddled together eating ice cream in front of the fire trying to keep warm.”

“Didn’t big sister suggest melting it over the fire and eating it like a soup?”

“No, that was my idea.”

“How was it?”

“Terrible.”

I laughed and rose briefly to remove the boiled dumplings and put a heaping portion onto a plate for Ivan with a pat of softened butter whle taking only a few for myself. I could tell that Ivan was famished and my heart dictated that I leave as much food for my dear brother as possible. My suspicions that he had barely eaten these last few weeks was confirmed as I watched the Russian devour all of his pelmeni in seconds, but I just smiled and refilled his bowl again before sitting across from him to eat my own.

“Would you let me help you with a bath after dinner?”

“I am blind, not a cripple. Bathing, even for the blind does not require two persons. I have fared well enough taking baths on my own.”

“Well, you missed a spot, Ivan. Or a dozen really.” My words were chiding in pointing out the bloodstains lingering on his flesh in various locations, but I spoke softly hoping that he could hear the love in my voice and realize that I was only trying to help. “We used to bathe together in our childhood, big brother. Do you not remember my little sponge cleaning your back for you?”

“…Big sister was always so adamant about saving water.”

“Yes. And I vividly recall a little boy beside me in the bath who would cling to his penis with such fear that it might fall off and he would become a little girl just like me and big sister.”

Ivan’s cheeks turned red but he did chuckle softly between mouthfuls of the meat dumplings quickly disappearing from his plate.

“You were the one telling me to make sure it didn’t fall off.”

“I didn’t want another big sister. I liked you just the way you were.”

“…And now?”

My fingers moved to gently clasp over his hand again, this time squeezing the warm flesh softly in reassurance.

“I love you and only want to be here by your side. Whatever you may need, be it food or firewood, I will always be here to do for you whatever I can. This has always been my home, Ivan. I was a fool to think there might be a greater purpose for me in the world of politics and international relations. Western nations have little or no respect for me and only here do I ever feel like I make a difference.”

“They will listen if you speak up and make them hear you, sister.”

“I have no interest anymore in mundane politics,” I assured him. “I would much rather be here with you for the remainder of my days.”

“…I am not looking for a wife.”

“I did not ask you to marry me, did I?”

He smiled. Not a soft, sad little smile this time, but one that appeared to me as if Ivan had suddenly found peace with his situation now that he realized he didn’t have to be alone in the darkness anymore. I might not be wed to my darling brother, but somehow it seemed like a moot point anyway as long as I could be close to him after all these years chasing after the Russian only to have him run away again.

“Then I suppose I can’t say ‘no’.”

I blinked at him but as Ivan couldn’t see my confused expression there was no other recourse than to ask him to clarify his words.

“Pardon?”

“You still have your sponge after all of these years?”

A bath. Of course that’s what he meant.

“I do not believe so, but unless you saw fit to burn everything in the linen closet along with your furniture there should be another one that I can use. Would you return the favor for me though?”

“I fear I can no longer see your flesh to know what needs cleaning.”

“We will worry about that when the time comes. It is still much easier for me to scrub your back if we share the bath, brother.”

Whether he believed me or not, Ivan seemed thankful enough for the warm meal in his belly to permit my hand upon his arm now guiding the Russian back upstairs and down the hallway to his room again. I would have preferred to bathe in my own room which was free of debris but only Ivan’s private bathroom contained a tub large enough for the both of us to fit comfortably together. Making a mental note to tidy up his room come morning, I turned on the faucet and was considerably relieved to find that the bathwater came out hot. Perhaps only the central heating was shut off then, not the gas itself. Our former allies must have tampered with the fuse box in the basement in an effort to drive Ivan out of his chilly sanctuary.

Shaking my head at the thought, I left Ivan in the bathroom only long enough to hasten down to the basement and replace the missing fuses in hope that the heating and electricity might be restored. Had I been a more religious woman I might have prayed for luck, but instead my fingers simply clicked the small switches into place triggering the familiar whirl and rumble of the mansion’s heating system. Very few sounds could have been more pleasing to me right then but the added joy of seeing the basement lights flicker to life had me grinning all the way to the large stack of firewood, grabbing an armful before hastening back to Ivan’s chambers and the bathroom therein.

“I fixed the heating, brother. It should be warm again in just a few…hours..”

I hadn’t expected Ivan to undress himself and slip into the tub, but my brother seemed determined to maintain a sense of independence even if I insisted on helping him with a bath. His nude body was nothing like the small boy that sat beside me in the tub growing up while big sister scrubbed both our backs. No, Ivan was broad and strong and I found myself slightly relieved that he could not see the blatant flush on my cheeks as I too removed my clothes and slipped into the warm water behind him with my sponge in hand.

“This might take me a bit longer than when we were children, brother. You have much more flesh to clean now.” I grinned though the expression was useless when he couldn’t see it anyway. “Did you want me to wash your hair for you?”

He growled low but I could see a hint of flushed embarrassment on his cheeks.

“I bathed yesterday. My hair is clean enough.”

“That wasn’t the question, Ivan. I don’t know about your inclinations, but I personally enjoy having my hair washed.”

“…I will wash your hair for you, sister.”

Not quite the turn of events that I would have anticipated, but his offer was kept in the back of my mind as I ran the soapy sponge of my brother’s back, arms and strong shoulders. It was difficult to reach his chest with Ivan facing away from me, but I pressed myself to his newly-cleaned back and reached around with the sponge to spread the fragrant suds over his chest and abdomen. The sudden tension in his powerful frame was not lost on me, and Ivan’s nerves remained on edge even as I drew my chest away from his flesh to instead rise and move in the bath until I could sit on his knees facing my brother. What was it about my skin pressed to his that made the older man so uneasy? Gently I picked up his hand and offered the soapy sponge to him in hopes that he would return the favor as promised.

“I…I can’t see you.”

“I know. But there’s no harm in cleaning someone more than necessary, right?”

He didn’t answer but the Russian’s hand blindly moved to brush the sponge over my shoulder and side in a tentative exploration of skin that he could not see. All too well I knew his nature. I knew that Ivan would shut down and grow distant towards me if I tried to correct his movements, and for that reason alone I patiently waited and watched as my brother ran the soft sponge from one side of my body to the other in gentle circles. His techniques had improved considerably since our childhood when the Russian boy would scrub my little shoulders hard enough to make me cry and declare war on him in the bath.

It wasn’t lost on me that the large Russian purposely steered clear of my breasts as much as his sightless eyes would permit, and for the hundredth time in the last decade I found myself wondering if perhaps Ivan really was a homosexual. Not that I would be deterred by his preference for men, but sheer curiosity prompted me to gently take his wrist and guide the sponge directly atop one of my breasts while I watched his face for some indication of what my brother felt. This time it was triumph that washed over me in a rush upon seeing not disgust but embarrassment painting his cheeks in response.

“Do I make you uncomfortable, brother?”

“…Sometimes, yes.”

“Why?”

Ivan didn’t speak but I could see him move one hand between his thighs under the water line in an obvious effort to disguise whatever affects that touching my nude body had on his. Try as he might to mask the evidence of his unwanted arousal, I shifted slowly closer upon his thighs until my own hands could cup his jaw and press the smallest, most tender of kisses to the corner of my big brother’s mouth. I half expected him to throw me out of the tub but instead Ivan dropped the sponge beside us in the water and now placed both hands over his crotch. He was almost childlike in his mannerisms but my vision remained sharp and I could see the sizable half-erection that my brother was attempting to hide.

“Did you want to have sex with me?” I consciously chose not to use the term ‘making love’ as I knew that Ivan’s affections for me were still precarious and I had no intention of losing this precious moment by being too focused on ‘love’ of all things. “It has been a very long time since I was last with a man. Of course…it is your choice,” I added, hoping to keep the conversation carefree and without promises of marriage or a lifetime together.

“I will not marry you, sister.”

Leave it to Ivan to bring up the topic I was trying so carefully to avoid.

“Ivan,” gently I cupped his cheeks to speak softly against his lips. We had never been this close before and I feared that the Russian might grow nervous should I linger on the topic of marriage for very long. “Nowhere does it say that I need to be your wife in order for us to enjoy an evening of intercourse, brother. Even without your sight, you can’t lie and tell me that your body no longer has any needs or urges at all. You are a man, Ivan,” I bit my bottom lip lightly before shifting forward in the bath to press our bodies closer, softly kissing his lips, “and I want you inside me.”

He blinked for a moment before his violet eyes fluttered shut and this time it was Ivan’s lips to move softly away from my mouth and instead press a tentative path down my jaw and neck. There was no hesitation on my part in tipping my head back to make room for his slow advances but Ivan’s movements remained timid betraying his inexperience with women. No teases would leave my lips. Instead I gently took his hands in mine and guided them to the soft swells of my naked breasts should he wish to explore further.

After a dozen seconds watching him there was no longer any doubt in my mind that Ivan had not a clue what to do with a pair of breasts. I had anticipated that my big brother might very well still be a virgin to women but I never had any legitimate proof before now that my suspicions were well-founded. His fingertips ghosted feather-light over the warm flesh of my chest in a tentative touch before I lay my hands over his and applied a fair amount of pressure, guiding his fingers to squeeze or fondle as he saw fit.

“They will not break, brother. You needn’t treat me like glass.”

My hands left his to see what Ivan would do, and I was pleasantly surprised when the Russian cupped each of my breasts in his large palms, squeezing firmly and rolling my nipples between his fingertips for a moment before pinching each sensitive bud with a hint of barely-restrained force. I made no effort to suppress the wanton moan escaping my lips in response to his roughness and Ivan seemed fairly encouraged enough to bend his head and draw one nipple between his lips.

As Ivan laved attention on my breasts I arched into his body and even shifted my hips slightly until I was straddling his strong thighs and perched precariously with the soft mound of my pussy resting atop his half-hard shaft though not seeking penetration quite yet. Ivan’s body seemed to respond favorably to my subtle teases, his cock quivering to full erection beneath me while the older man’s grip on my breasts firmed and his teeth scraped and even nipped my sensitive flesh more roughly. It hurt but long ago I had learned of the pleasures derived from pain, and Ivan’s slowly mounting aggression wrung another series of gasps and moans from my lips.

His hands left my breasts in search of something more pleasurable, but whether it was Ivan’s blindness or his inexperience with women plaguing his movements the Russian’s brows knit and his fingers seemed misguided when fumbling past the soft folds of my pussy in search of a tantalizing heat that could accommodate him. I gasped when two large digits finally found their mark and slid inside of me but Ivan opted not to permit his fingers to linger for long when his cock was already hard and heavy pressed to his thigh beneath my body.

“Will it fit?”

Cute that he actually asked before trying to shove the immense organ inside of my body. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, grinning into his neck in an effort to ensure that Ivan could feel my eagerness if not see it.

“We will make it fit.”

I quickly garnered a fresh appreciation for my brother’s size as Ivan shifted in the bath and wrapped one strong arm around my waist, the other hand guiding the head of his sizeable erection past the soft folds of my pussy and into the small opening that he had stretched gently with his fingers moments before. It hurt like no sex I had ever experienced before, but there was a sweetness to his gentle intrusion, a certain care taken to ensure that my body was stretched but remained unbroken as inch after inch of his cock pierced me to the core. The first four inches made me groan into his shoulder in relief; the next four wrung a whimper from deep within my chest; the final four pushed slowly past my natural resistance finally coming to rest deep within my body and I couldn’t help but gasp into the warm juncture of his neck and shoulder.

“Does it hurt, sister?”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his concern but my lips found his and drew Ivan into a reassuring kiss as I took a moment to allow my body time to adjust.

“A little,” I admitted between kisses. “I’ve never been with a man your size before. It is wonderful, brother.”

My words of encouragement seemed to reassure the Russian and maybe even fluff his ego a bit since the large man’s hands again drifted to my breasts to palm and squeeze the sensitive flesh at his leisure. I had no way of knowing how long it had been since Ivan had sex, but my own last experience involved a terrified Lithuanian that couldn’t manage an erection even after I tied him naked to my bed and used everything in my sexual arsenal to arouse him all to no avail. It was considerably nicer being with a man that was not only willing but actually erect and buried to the root inside me.

Being more experienced with heterosexual sex, I wasted no time in shifting to my knees for better leverage when drawing my pussy slowly off of my brother’s cock only to slide down the thick shaft with a little more force than the Russian’s initial thrust inside of me. My efforts were rewarded with a soft groan from the older blonde’s lips, and this time his hands left my chest in favor of gripping my hips as if trying to speed my movements up and down his thick erection. Not one to thwart such an effort, I gripped his shoulders for stability and this time shifted from my knees up onto the balls of my feet to begin riding him in earnest. A smaller man I might be able to kneel over, but the Russian was enormous and sliding the hot flesh of my cunt repeatedly up and down all twelve inches of his cock called for more range of movement.

Over and over my hips rose and fell, spearing my pussy on his flesh while the bathwater around us churned in mimic of our sexual frenzy. I left one hand upon his shoulder for balance but the other one moved wantonly between my thighs to rub and tease the small bundle of nerves positioned just above my flesh now enveloping Ivan’s cock in hopes that we might find our orgasms together. Perhaps it was the unusually athletic way that I was riding him, but my body soon ached both from fullness and exhaustion while a flood of pleasurable sensation took over my lower half like a heartbeat pulsing against my brother’s cock. I orgasmed around his flesh with a needy whimper but was soon matched by a low groan of ecstasy courtesy of my brother now forcing my hips to remain flush against his while the Russian filled the innermost reaches of my pussy with his seed.

“Brother,” I cooed softly while hugging his shoulders, “it feels so good having your cum in me…”

He picked a strange time to suddenly turn bashful, but I could see Ivan’s cheeks take on a decidedly red hue seconds before the Russian averted his unseeing eyes away from me. There could be no regrets about our sex, I would simply not allow it, and I sealed the deed with a tender kiss pressed to his lips before shifting from his thighs to stand in the bath and retrieve towels for us both from the linen shelf.

“It is late. We should probably start a fire and find you a place to sleep tonight. It is regretful, but I do not think your room is inhabitable at the moment, Ivan.” There were far too many broken objects that might trip my blind brother should he need to leave his bed in the middle of the night. “Which room do you prefer? I can find one nearby.”

“I will take Toris’s room then.”

Part of me wanted to demand that we share a bed, let alone a room, but Ivan had his pride and I would not force myself upon him if he did not desire my company to such an extent. I was not his wife and given the new level of intimacy that my brother had allowed me there was no need to press the topic. Whatever I was to him, be it sister, lover or caretaker, I could content myself that no other man or woman remained in Ivan’s house to steal him away from me.

“And I will sleep in Eduard’s tonight.”

Perhaps tomorrow would be different, but for now I would continue to grant Ivan his personal space in hopes that my distance would one day make us closer.

~ * ~ END ~ * ~
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Into the Dark