Adult-FanFiction.org : Anime

A Nation's Salvation	By : eternalstarhaven Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2145 -:- 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
- 7
- 8
- 9
The Russian, Prussian, and Scandinavian Alliance
Chapter Seven
Russia glared at the nation before him. Not that he wouldn't welcome a fight with Prussia, but never on anyone else's terms but his own. Why was Britain even here? He was fully aware of the recent events taking place in Denmark and Norway, but despite his decimated population, his brothers were currently a unified front when it came to potential outside threats. A fight with one, meant a fight with all four, and eventually five. He wasn't a fool, regardless of how young he was. Scandinavia was not a viable target; he'd rather keep his focus on more obtainable ones, and until a few days he ago, he would have said it was the very nation that Britain was asking him to go to war with.
Prussia still operated mostly alone, but him teaming up with the Scandinavians had caught several other nations off guard, causing a tremor of fear and restlessness. What was he thinking? However, Russia knew Britain, and he never kept his promises or alliances. Prussia he understood, at times respected despite being enemies with. Only an idiot would agree to an alliance with the British Empire, his treaties and promises filled with so many loop holes that they could make a race course out of it. The only exception to that rule, was perhaps France. Even if the moments were brief, France had the ability to befriend the bastard for any period of time, and that in itself wasn't very often either. The two were in a constant love and hate relationship, always at each other's throats, and it simply amazed the Russian how the two hadn't killed each other off already.
Russia's expression was one of cool indifference, but it was the way he smiled that put people on edge, the icy, coldness in his purple eyes... He had no love for the rest of the world, but he didn't hate it either. He was now old enough to understand that they often didn't have a choice in who they fought or why, but he refused to play puppet to his people, or anyone else for that matter. The nation was the people, and the people were the nation. Without one, the other did not exist, and he refused to allow them to gain control of his mind, or his actions. Britain on the other hand, could not say the same. Was it Britain that wanted Denmark, or was it the stupid monarchy that never seemed satisfied with what they had?
They were a rapidly expanding nation, always eyeing another man's wealth and lands as if they had the right to it all. What did it matter that they had enough land of their own, or that their wars were literally starving the people to death? And if they failed to pay... Russia never hated a nation so much as he did Britain... the people were beyond pathetic, rotting in their own filth, thrown in dungeons because they lacked even a single coin to pay for even the cheapest of taxes. The church was by far the most corrupt, lining their pockets with the people's hard earned money, and it seemed the monarchy fell beneath their supposed religious laws. To Russia... Britain was a powerful child, one that broke his toys if he didn't get what he wanted, how he wanted, and when he wanted. And right now, it was extremely obvious what that was... Denmark.
Britain's way of conducting a war was appalling, far worse than anything he could accuse Sweden of. He had report after report detailing the massacres of women and children, herded into barns, locked inside, and burned alive. "My reports are quite different than yours, da? Denmark might have suffered a heavy loss of life and economical value, but they still live, and are quickly recovering."
"What of it?" Britain scowled, irritated that Russia was being difficult.
Russia's smile grew, and if it were anyone else, they would have understood the danger and meaning behind it. "You seem unaware of how we exist, how we are intertwined with our land and our people. Kill the people, and you stand a good chance at destroying the Nation. It is not always successful, and there are very rare cases where a Nation might survive such an event... destroy the nation, and the people will die with him: for example, Troy, Carthage, Babylon, and Pompeii." Russia normally wouldn't have hesitated to provide a physical example, to instill an unnatural fear into countries that irritated and angered him, but when he stared into Britain's emerald eyes, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise.
What did he truly know of Britain? Everyone had this assumption that he was weak and fragile; so why was he so powerful now? Not wanting to display his growing uneasiness, he stood, leaning over to glare at the Brit... "I'm not interested," his gaze as cold as ice, filled with a menacing hatred for everything and everyone around him.
"You're not interested at getting even with Prussia?" he taunted, trying to goad the ice nation into a fight.
Russia didn't care how dangerous it was; if he was going to have a war, he'd ensure that Britain knew who and what he was dealing with. With calculating and deliberate movements, he lifted Britain out of his chair and brutally slammed him against the wall, pale fingers wrapped around his slender throat. "I am not your pawn to do with as you please, nor am I afraid of your toy boats and sissy Soldiers... they know nothing of the cold that will freeze your skin until it cracks and bleeds... I am Russia, and this is MY home, and MY land, and I will choose who I go to war with, who I destroy... and I may very well decide that my next target isn't a red-eyed little boy, but the so-called powerful British Empire. I like challenging toys to play with, and you may very well discover that you're easily broken, just like the skin that turns nice shades of purple when I squeeze only a little, da?" Taking a step closer, the Russian's free hand stroking down the blond's cheek, "Perhaps I show you the lesson that I taught Prussia, da?"
It bothered Russia that he saw no fear in Britain's eyes, only insane hatred and rage. As he made his way back home, Britain decided that he didn't need Russia after all, and he'd add the arrogant bastard to his long list of nation's to conquer after he was done with Denmark. He had even considered bullying Spain, but the Austrian/Hungarian Empire was far too powerful at this point to push Spain into an unwanted alliance. He hated them anyway; it was because of those two bastards that he couldn't get his hands on either North or South Italy, both brothers separated and safe guarded. Buying Italy had failed, and one look into South Italy's tear filled eyes, Spain had ordered Britain out, threatening a war if he persisted with his not so polite requests.
Not a single nation had failed to note the passing of Sweden's grand fleet, going west through the Atlantic, and then coming back. Everyone feared an invasion, but when none came, it only caused more confusion and chaos. What was the Scandinavian leader thinking? Despite being one of the youngest of the five brothers, Sweden was the one all the brothers looked to for military guidance, and when he declared war on someone, he rarely relented unless the losses were so great that he would have to regroup before reconsidering another attempt. Of the five Scandinavian countries, only Denmark, Sweden, and Norway waged war against the rest of the world if provoked. They no longer had a high priority to seek out warmer climates, a good portion of their territories becoming more and more green and accessible to crops and settlement. Iceland was one of the newer nations, but Norway and Denmark had made it very clear that they'd smash anything and everything that came too close to him.
Britain stormed through his castle, trembling in fury as nation after nation backed out of his original plans to invade and take Denmark. With the return of Sweden's fleet and warriors, no one was stupid or insane enough try. If Britain wanted to attempt suicide, they'd simply sit back and pick up the pieces once Sweden was done with him. Not to mention, seeing as how Britain was right next to Denmark's borders, it could very well just become a part of his land instead. That would definitely bring some amusement out of his more back-stabbing allies.
Having few options available, and not one to sit in the sidelines, Russia decided he'd personally investigate the reports filtering into his headquarters. Granted, a good-portion of Denmark's population had lost their lives in a surprise storm, but no one claimed to have seen him, Norway and most recently Sweden. In fact, the reports had gone so far as to mention that it was Finland and Prussia making all the decisions. He might not like Prussia, but something about Britain demanded he set that aside and consider a temporary alliance. His reports were accurate, but lacking at the same time. The Prussia and Scandinavian nations were in joint operations; that part was accurate. What his reports hadn't mentioned, was the hand-to-hand combat training Prussia was providing to the women and children. Sweden, Denmark, and Norway, would have never agreed to this; meaning... there was far more truth to Denmark's and Norway's instability. He'd even go so far as to extend that instability to Sweden.
Why take so many ships and send them back? Not a single country had reported an invasion, but they had clearly gone somewhere, but where and why? It was very rare for Sweden to make war during the winter months; Northern Countries preferred to spend their time making preparations and resting for the upcoming spring and summer raids. The devastation to Denmark was a lot worse than he had first assumed. The coastal areas had yet to regain even a fraction of their markets, and it wasn't trading ships in the water, but fully equipped and manned war ships.
In the distance, he spotted Finland walking from dock to dock, issuing orders, pointing out discrepancies, and even pitching in if he felt preparations weren't going quite to his specifications. Russia saw things others did not, and anyone that thought Finland was harmless, well... he wouldn't have any sympathy or compassion when they returned home like a bunch of whipped puppies. Finland was almost classified as an ancient... weak... Russia snorted in bitter amusement. And everyone wondered why he had no patience for stupid, easily influenced nations?
Russia had several options. It was quite apparent from his quick observations that it was Finland, not Sweden, in charge of current operations. Prussia definitely had a hand in the training and border re-enforcement's, leaving all naval operations to his Scandinavian ally. One, he could gather his entire military and slam it against Scandinavia. If he was right, he'd not have much opposition, and could easily take Denmark and possibly Norway and Sweden. However, that would definitely stretch his forces far too thin, and on the off chance that he was wrong, he'd lose far too many lives and not have enough left over to counter future invasions from countries like Afghanistan or Turkey. Two, he could accept Britain's offer, but that left a fowl taste in his mouth. Aside from truly hating him, he'd have to worry over having him so close to his borders.
He'd never stop once he had Denmark, and he'd become more power hungry with each nation that fell beneath his parasitic ideas. Besides, that would still leave him vulnerable to Prussia, and he didn't need to add Britain to that equation. And then there was option number three: he'd team up with Finland and Prussia, and keep Britain exactly where he was; fuming on a throne with no one supporting his power hungry desire for another nation's land. Prussia had matured over the past couple of years, no longer as intent on conquering, as he was at defending and smashing anyone that challenged him. Each invasion just made him stronger, and now he was as large as the Austrian/Hungarian Empires.
Minus their little play time in Russia, Prussia had yet to lose a single battle, always one step ahead of his opponents. Russia knew that this boy, almost a man, was a worthy adversary. Returning to where Prussia was training, he waited, content to watch and learn how the red-eyed nation thought and operated. He wasn't disappointed, and as the day progressed, Prussia finally called an end and made his way over. Prussia, like himself, showed no signs of fear. Instead, he gave an arrogant smile, almost taunting in nature.
"The British Empire has offered friendship," he spoke, not bothering at subtlety. The Prussian wasn't known for it either, and judging from the narrowing of his red gaze, he was well aware of the enemy's eyes on Denmark's territory.
"Britain doesn't have any friends; at least none that he won't stab in the back."
"Then we have an understanding, da?"
"I suppose we do," Prussia agreed, allowing the Russian to follow after him. As much as he disliked the man, most of that had to do with their nations' people throwing them at each other. Ever since his close call in the cold lakes of Russia, he had intentionally avoided further confrontations, focusing on getting smarter, stronger, and faster than his enemies.
"If I offer my support; what is it worth?"
"What are you offering?" Prussia should have known Finland would have spotted them. Russia was no fool; with Finland in charge, and no sign of the other Scandinavians, the world faced an extreme power shift. He'd rather not see how that played out.
"Britain getting stronger is the last thing any of us need. The moment he gains a foothold in Denmark; he'll focus the rest of his efforts on Sweden, Norway, Iceland, and eventually yourself. I don't need the British Empire sitting on my doorsteps. If I help, I want trading and travel rights to your ports."
Finland had no idea if Sweden, Denmark, or Norway might agree, but they weren't here, and they needed all the help they could find. Russia's offer as an ally was unexpected, but he'd not refuse it. Even Prussia saw the benefits, and he nodded in agreement. It wasn't his place to refuse his help, anyway. If they failed to stop Britain from taking Denmark, they'd have a serious problem on their hands. "Is Denmark still alive?"
"Has anyone seen a body?" Finland countered, neither confirming nor denying Russia's question. Russia considered taking insult, but he rather liked the brave front the nation was trying to display, Sweden nowhere in site to hide behind or seek approval. His initial assessment of this nation was correct. He wasn't weak and they both knew it as Finland smiled and thumped him on the back. What Russia couldn't understand was why Finland chose to operate in the shadows of his brothers? He had a lot to learn from this one.
Showing them their maps, Finland gave him a quick and accurate run down of all their patrols and operations. To their growing horror, Russia quickly showed every spot that Britain could attack and destroy them, his mind just as sharp as Prussia's when it came to military tactics and warfare. Without Denmark's military to back them, they simply didn't have enough to cover Denmark's entire border and man the patrols on the water front. Having Russia effectively solved that problem, and for the first time, Prussia actually found himself liking and respecting him, but not enough to let his guard down. An known enemy was sometimes the greatest ally when faced against a stronger and more dangerous adversary. Later that evening, Prussia joined the taller nation and offered him some ale. One sip and Russia scowled, barking out an order, and soon he shoved a bottle into the Prussian's startled grasp. "Drink mine, da? Then you throw that other filth in the ocean." Doubting that it was really any better, Prussia excepted the challenge and gasped, completely taken by surprise at how powerful it was, and the cold that forever hugged his skin, vanished instantly.
"What the hell is this?" he gasped, trying hard not to choke.
"Vodka."
Prussia didn't want to admit it, but he loved it. Deciding that they had a long winter ahead of them, Prussia let go of their horrible past together, and enjoyed the Russian's company. Perhaps if their nations hadn't hated one another, he might have even considered calling him a friend. Finland soon joined them, a trio of the most unlikely combination. The moment word reached Britain of the Russian's alliance with Scandinavia and Prussia, a roar of pure rage and hatred vibrated throughout the castle walls. That very same day, everyone imprisoned in his dungeons were immediately executed, Britain carrying out their death sentences personally.
Sitting in Spain's home, France moved one of the chess pieces, deep in thought. "Who would have thought; a Prussian, Scandinavian, and Russian alliance."
"You know as well as I that it's the perfect counter to Britain; and I for one don't disagree."
"Do you think there's any truth to Denmark's or Norway's deaths?"
"It's difficult to say, and is calling their bluff worth the risk? There's a lot of defense shoring up along his borders for someone that's possibly dead, si?"
"Agreed. Perhaps we should sit back on this one, and simply await the results of the winner."
"That might not work in our favors either. If Britain wins, he will remember who refused to help as much as those that sided against him." France shivered in fear; he once remembered a boy that was so easy to torment, but that boy was now a man and a very dangerous one.
- 7
- 8
- 9
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Nation's Salvation