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A Nation's Salvation	By : eternalstarhaven Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2146 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: Hetallia: Axis Powers does not belong to me, but to Hidekaz Himaruya, while the idea behind the story is my own. I do not make a profit or money by writing this. I also have this story posted on fanfiction.net under the same penname.

Chapter List
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Prussia's Promise
Chapter Three
Sweden helped pull another body from the rubble, women and children running around in fear as they tried to find their loved ones. The massive flood had come from no where, sweeping across Denmark, a good portion of Norway, and killing almost three quarters of their populations. It was a miracle any had survived at all, and he wouldn't even get started on the naval fleet sitting at the bottom of the ocean. To make matters worse, an unusual winter storm had hit Norway, but Sweden and Finland were unaffected. Sweden knew the signs of a severely injured or dead nation, but he had no way of knowing where Denmark and Norway were. Instead, he had to wait, taking full control of their territories, restoring order, and helping to rebuild and provide food, clothing, and shelter.
None of his warriors complained, nor did they take advantage of the vulnerable women or their children. Instead, they treated them as if they were their own, offering their complete protection until the fate of Denmark and Norway was decided. "Brother..." Standing up, a young boy in his arms, he handed him off to one of his warriors and followed after Finland, the normally quiet nation heading straight for the docks.
He had no idea what to expect, but the badly damaged ships approaching, holes in their hulls, a handful of men on each one... Sweden felt his heart go cold with fear; despite their differences, he had no true desire to see any of his brothers dead. In the early spring, they had taken off, due to return just before winter... Fifty vessels, and only a handful had returned, neither of his brothers in site. On the lead ship, he saw her, black hair whipping about her violently, her sad eyes meeting his terrified blue ones. When she glanced away... he knew, and it took all his inner strength as a leader and a warrior to not tuck tail and run.
Without a dock, the broken ships were forced to beach themselves upon the sand, and with great care, they helped her down, Sweden meeting her most of the way. In her hands, she held something, and it wasn't until he paused before her that she opened his palm and placed an unworn arm band into it. These were the magical items she had gifted to them, a way for her to find and help them should they ever have a need. He already knew which twin hadn't worn it, and he turned to the devastation behind him. "Are they..."
"Norway wouldn't come back," she quietly spoke, her entire body trembling. "I'm sorry," she started to cry, Sweden staring at her in horrified shock. He hadn't seen her break down like this since she had first come to them, broken and scarred. "If I had stayed... this is my fault..."
Unable to stop himself, he gathered her close, his strong arms providing only comfort and love. Sweden couldn't talk, his entire world off kilter. His stupid brothers... Why hadn't Denmark worn the arm band? And why hadn't Norway returned? This was too much... he had the ability to integrate both countries into one, but... not like this... The fur coat was far too big for her smaller body, and he knew it belonged to Norway. "I want every available ship ready to sail within the hour," he commanded, Finland nodding his head and taking off.
Sweden had no idea how he was going to conduct a massive search for his brothers, leaving Denmark's and Norway's territories vulnerable to attack. Just as he was leaving instructions for the older warriors, he saw a familiar paled-haired nation make his way through the mud and dead bodies. "Word has already spread to the other nations... dead or alive... it doesn't matter they will come if they think there is a chance to take down two of the Viking nations."
Pausing before the powerful man, nodding to the girl that had pulled him from the ice, Prussia met Sweden's ice-cold gaze with one of his own. "I owe you a debt, and I will repay it. How may the awesome Prussia be at service?" Sweden couldn't believe this was the same lad from a few months past, his height clearly that of a man and not a boy. There was less fear in his gaze, more certainty as his hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. He carried no shield, but Sweden didn't think he needed one to hold his own in a battle.
"Will defending Denmark's borders not stretch your military beyond it's capabilities?"
"My laws are quite different than most... All women, men, and children over the ages of sixteen will fight. Those that refuse... well I have a few shining examples for people like that. My borders are completely covered; I can't say the same for Denmark or Norway. If my logic is correct, which it usually is, anyone that decides to attack will choose Denmark first and then Norway."
"Not that I disagree, but let's play out your little game. Why Denmark?"
"One, it's the easiest to target due to the fact it's still attached to Europe. Two, no one wants the British Empire to gain more territory than they already possess. Outside of the Viking and Spanish nations, Britain is a threat not to overlook."
Sweden understood; almost every nation had started out like Prussia, constantly at war with others, struggling to make a place in the savage world they were born into. Countries that pursued more peaceful methods were often invaded, conquered, and destroyed. Occasionally some might live, but most of them did not. "How did everyone find out?"
"Britain saw the returning of Denmark's and Norway's broken war vessels. That's not something they'd just ignore, and the other nations will act accordingly to keep Britain from obtaining a bigger advantage. Not to mention, you."
Growling, he turned to the open sea, Atlantis still surprisingly at his side. She hadn't said a word, and he hadn't quite found it in himself to release her. There wasn't a single nation that didn't know his name, and if they felt taking Denmark and Norway would give them an advantage to killing him, they'd take it. Norway and Denmark were twins; fraternal or not, what affected one also affected the other. The Prussian had done his homework, and Sweden wasn't certain if he should fear or respect the nation's ability to gather intelligence. It was his way of staying alive and in power; no longer making rash and impulsive decisions like he had done with Russia several months ago.
"Which nations do I need to worry about?"
"France, Britain, and possibly Russia and Austria. Thankfully, I'm in the way and I've expanded since the last we met."
"I will stay with him," Finland offered. Sweden started to protest, but he saw the resolved determination in his older brother, something he rarely witnessed. Unlike his other brothers, he wasn't a fighter, not unless there was a reason to raise his sword. If he didn't help Prussia defend their borders, Sweden, Finland, and possibly Iceland were next. He had a terrible decision to make; to stay or go. If he stayed, he risked the death of two nations, not just one, but if he left, he risked all of them. Prussia's gaze fell upon the female nation at Sweden's side, amazed that she looked so normal without her tail. Only her hair and eyes gave her a way, and it was because of her that he had managed to stop Russia from taking his lands and killing him.
Reaching for the necklace around her throat, she pulled slightly away from Sweden and placed it around Prussia's neck, a soft glow pulsing around it. He waited for Sweden or Finland to protest, but they seemed to accept her decision, and with a gentle pressure on her back, Sweden turned and guided her towards the awaiting fleet. "I'm trusting them to you," Sweden finally conceded, hating the fact that he was handing the lives of five nations into the hands of one that he barely knew. Perhaps Prussia was everything that his father was and more, and he only hoped he'd never place himself before those that relied on him. He'd never forgive Oceanonis for what he had done to Atlantis.
Watching them go, Finland turned and followed Prussia to the front lines of Denmark's remaining military. He wasn't going to lie, it looked pretty bad. "Do you think he somehow survived?"
"Have you seen a body?"
"No, but..."
"Then we defend his borders and await Sweden's next command." Clapping the older nation on the shoulder, Prussia smiled and started barking orders that had the remaining warriors and the children too young to travel, scrambling in every direction. Perhaps having a new way of thinking wasn't a bad thing. The Viking way of war was that of the water; where as Prussia knew land warfare, using everything in their path as a barrier or a weapon of some sort. Next, he began training regimes that forced the warriors to train night and day, resting in rotating shifts as he taught them various ways of combat, both with swords, spears, and even daggers. Finland started to see the danger Prussia represented, and hoped to never have the kid on their bad side.
When they weren't in training, efforts went to rebuilding the broken homes and shipping ports, establishing a flimsy market, and restoring law and order. Prussia made it quite clear... anyone stupid enough to cause chaos and fear in an already dangerous situation, were made a public example of. "Thank you," Finland finally said one morning, handing the young nation a mug of strong ale. It was here that Prussia had formed a liking for the stuff, integrating it into his own culture. "Where did you learn to fight and train the way you do?"
"One learns a lot when you face off against an enemy. Each victory is only a victory if I take away something that I can use in battle later; and my favorite is guerrilla warfare. I never understood why the British bastards like to line up and march to their deaths. Savage monsters... they're way of fighting is disgusting... putting women and children in barns, burning them alive, killing off of their livestock and crops. I hear they're taking to the open seas themselves."
Worried they might have a naval war on their hands, Finland made slight changes to their battle plans. Taking the broken ships that had returned, he ordered their repairs, and new ones built, hoping they were over reacting. Prussia didn't think so, and he stayed at his post, staring into the darkness, always ready for the enemy to strike. They rarely disappointed him.
As they traveled the open seas, a fleet of a thousand ships at his back, he felt comfort in the knowledge that she stood at his side. It was impossible not to pass Britain, their vessels taking the Baltic Sea route, into the North Sea, and finally into the North Atlantic. "Is this the same route they took?"
"That way is not possible... The storms they encountered are now sweeping across the northern part of the world and are pushing southward, blocking their way with ice. The route we must take; the land is uncharted and unknown to the other land nations. I cannot guarantee the survival of all your ships," she spoke truthfully, sensing more storms.
"Are we able to navigate around them?"
"For the most part, but a fleet this size... that is not always possible."
"Do you think he'll attack," he asked her, torn between continuing the search and rescue for his brothers, versus destroying Britain with everything he had.
"Yes, but they will not count on Prussia's interference, and his military is well trained in both tactical and hand-to-hand combat."
"You've changed," Sweden commented, her gaze flickering towards him before reverting back to the ocean.
"Memories are impossible to keep away forever," she agreed. Instead of taking them to the northern part of the Arctic Ocean, she went further south, their fleet entering the South Atlantic, a large land mass appearing in the horizon. "I've never seen that land."
"Not many have, the storms that hit the Atlantic are frequent, and very dangerous. However, if you are to reach Norway, we must travel this way."
"How are we to find them if there's no ocean?"
"I believe you've forgotten that my power does not center solely on any particular body of water... they are all connected, the rivers, the lakes, the oceans... Have your men land, and I will guide them safely to the other side."
"You are a fool, mon ami," France warned, watching his long time rival prepare his final battle plans. "Do you think them completely defenseless?"
"You saw them pass as well as myself; of course they're defenseless! My guess is that the only thing guarding their home front are a bunch of weak children and women; all of which are forbidden to fight in their culture."
France had his doubts; Sweden wasn't an adversary to underestimate, and only something extraordinary would cause him to make such a foolish mistake as to leave behind only a handful of women and children to defend their territories. If he didn't have Prussia to worry over, he might consider a temporary alliance for this conflict, but if Britain miscalculated... he didn't want to deal with Sweden's idea of retribution.
"Are you insane?" Finland gasped, watching as Prussia tossed wooden swords and spears into the hands of women and children.
"The British Empire will take full advantage of their being left behind. I'm not saying they forgo all their cultural beliefs, but in order to protect them, they must know how to fight. Do you expect the babies to do it?"
"No, but..."
"He knows the weakness of any man, especially ours. Those women, he will laugh as they roast, their screams pleading for someone to rescue them from a burning building, their babies coughing and dying at their feet. Is that what you want for them?"
Finland didn't like it, but Prussia was right, and he reluctantly allowed him to continue. Unlike the Scandinavian Countries, he had no concern for gender, placing the same training regime on the women and children as he did the men. The enemy would not care, and therefore he pushed them harder than he dared. The younger girls he allowed to tend to the babies like Iceland, the older ones becoming the first Shield Maidens, their only purpose to protect and defend. They would not allow the outsiders to take their home, their babies, while there was still a possibility that Denmark or Norway were alive. If they died, he would as well, and it was with this knowledge, that they poured all their desperation into training.
The tears... the rain... it all blended together. Norway couldn't feel his legs and arms any longer, shivering violently from the drop in temperatures as yet another storm blanketed the coast. If he had been in his right mind, he might have noted that the storms were more frequent than usual, something Atlantis should have sensed. Perhaps she had... it wasn't her responsibility to re-direct every storm that cropped up... Every sailor knew the risk when they traveled the open seas... that didn't make his pain any less.
The waves continued to rise, threatening to over take his flimsy excuse of a shelter. What did it matter? If he sat still, the waves would take him to his brother. Why couldn't he feel his twin? He should have felt him die; right? Fading in and out of consciousness, the cold making it hard to focus, he hadn't heard anyone approach, nor did he truly see him as pale hands touched his face, tugging at his wrists.
Norway tried to rationalize what was happening to him... something was trying to help him, pull him away... Jerking his hands back, he curled in on himself. He couldn't go... what if... no! He wanted the ocean to take him to Denmark. Again the hands reached for him... why were they so small? Vision fading, the last thing he recalled seeing before everything went black were violet colored eyes... That should have meant something, but his mind... overwhelmed with grief... he couldn't remember why. Any chances that Atlantis might have had of recovering his brother's body, seemed hopeless now, his heart breaking in agony. He had finally realized how badly Oceanonis had hurt Atlantis, and he wanted to curse him for ever contemplating dying and leaving her as the last ancient, unable to follow and die with him.
The boy growled, arguing with the white bear. Granted, they normally avoided other humans, but this one was like himself, and different from the locals that seemed intent on hunting and killing him. If he remained in the cave, the ocean would take him, and instinct pushed him to ignore what the human wanted. He wasn't going to let this particular one die, and with inhuman strength, he dragged the man away from the cave, and snarled, demanding the bear stop being stubborn and take him. Roaring one last protest, the bear finally relented and helped the boy place the human onto his back, waiting for the boy to climb up behind him, before taking off into the forest.
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A Nation's Salvation