Lands beyond the fog (Male Elden Ring Reader x Countryhumans) [On Hold]

Snowy Morning

The next morning unfolded with a gentle golden glow, coaxing Russia from his slumber. With a resonant groan, he stretched his back, eliciting a satisfying series of pops. Glancing at the clock, he registered that it was already nine in the morning, a reminder that perhaps an earlier bedtime would have been wiser. After a reviving shower, he traded his night garb for his customary attire and coat, ensuring to grab his trusty ushanka hat to shield against the chill outside. Before stepping out, he cast his eyes toward the calendar hanging on the wall. His brows shot up in surprise as he realized he had a meeting scheduled with Portugal and the UK later in the day. As if that wasn't enough, both the UN and EU were keen to oversee the proceedings. This added layer of complexity left him pondering whether he should bring Y/N along or handle the meeting solo. The decision could wait; for now, he needed to locate Y/N within the sprawling expanse of his mansion.

He strode purposefully through the grand halls, each step echoing faintly in the quiet expanse. Upon arriving at the door he believed Y/N to occupy, he paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts. His knuckles rapped gently against the wood, but there was no response. A furrow crept across Russia's brow, a silent question forming. Was Y/N still nestled in slumber, or had he ventured out early? Slowly, he turned the handle, ensuring the door gave way without a creak. The sight that met his eyes was unexpected - the room lay untouched, as if it hadn't been used at all. A frown tugged at the corner of his lips, curiosity mingling with concern. With a sigh, he retraced his steps, deciding to search the rest of the house in hopes of finding the elusive figure. The mansion's sprawling corridors seemed to whisper secrets of forgotten conversations and long-ago footsteps. He checked each room with a meticulous eye, his senses attuned to any hint of Y/N's presence. Each silent space only deepened the mystery, leaving Russia determined to uncover the whereabouts of his enigmatic guest.

After a thorough hour of exploration, Russia had combed through the majority of the mansion, scrutinizing every nook and cranny. The dining hall, a bastion of classic elegance with its opulent chandelier and intricately carved wooden furnishings, held no trace of Y/N. He then turned his attention to his modern-styled study, the space where he had attended to paperwork just the previous evening. Moving through the halls, he entered the living room, a sanctuary of tranquility disturbed only by the soothing crackle of a fire in the hearth. The kitchen, too, yielded no sign of his elusive guest. Weariness began to weigh on him, threatening to erode his resolve. Just as he was teetering on the precipice of giving up, a glimmer of hope ignited within him. A slim sliver of light seeped through the back door, casting a delicate beam across the floor. It caught Russia's eye, a beacon in the encroaching dusk. Puzzlement furrowed his brow; he couldn't recall venturing into the garden since the snow had fallen in recent days, and he certainly wouldn't leave a door ajar. Determination resolute, he strode toward the beckoning entrance, ready to unravel the mystery that lay beyond.

As expected, Russia discovered Y/N outside, engaged in the unexpected pastime of building a snowman. The sight was both bewildering and endearing, a stark contrast to the persona of an almighty demigod. Russia couldn't help but watch, a mixture of fascination and amusement playing across his features. When Y/N finally noticed Russia's presence, the mirthful chuckle transformed into a warm smile. He approached, the snow crunching softly beneath his boots. "Good morning, Russia. How was your sleep?" Y/N inquired once he stood before him. Russia's response was swift, his attention fixated on Y/N's question, a subtle attempt to discern why the guest room had remained untouched. "My sleep was pleasant. How was yours? Did you find the room to your liking?" he inquired, hoping for an explanation. Y/N's reply held a carefully crafted lie, designed to quell any concern Russia might harbor. "Oh, I slept well, though it was on the couch," Y/N said, the words slipping effortlessly from his lips. It was a gambit that paid off, successfully diverting any further inquiry. Russia, reassured, let the matter rest, choosing not to press the issue further.