While yes there's the joys of children, there's also the chaos that seems to follow their booty-covered feet, plotting mad men, and growing up all and all. Basically a little series of one-shots with an underlying plot in there somewhere. Mentions of mpreg in the begining chapters and an M rating for future chapter-adventures. Touches on a different pairings of the Hetalia world~

Oh imagine the fun I would do if I owned Hetalia, but I don't. They and all their historical goofiness belong to Hidekaz Himaruya =]

Enjoy!


It started out normal enough for the German; waiting to Feliciano's noises give away his location in the kitchen of the Scandinavian hotel suit they resided in. The world meeting had ended yesterday, and several of the nations that had attended were already on planes away from Stockholm back to their respective homes.

Ludwig sat up, a rough hand running over his face. He sighed at the stubble his fingers brushed over, staring for a moment with half-lidded eyes at the black-screened TV sending his reflection right on back to him. Then with a heavy sigh, he pushed himself from the covers and stretched out to his full height once his feet hit the plush carpet; several joints popped back into place after having settled awkwardly over night.

"Ve, Ludwig~ You up?"

He smiled slightly at the bubbling Italian that popped his head into the room. Feliciano scampered over the taller nation, practically tackling him back into the bed with a content air around him. Strong arms came to rest down on his lithe shoulders and Germany laughed at the content Ve's escaping Italy as he snuggled into the broad chest.

"I have to get dressed, Feli," he said calmly, rubbing a light circle between the other's shoulders. "I'll be late otherwise. Then we'd miss our flight…" He felt the Italian nod against him with a mini sigh and shuffle in a last, feeble effort to keep close to the tired German. Ludwig leaned down slightly, placing a lazy good morning kiss into the Italian's hair. "I'll be back by lunch."

And that was how he had left, finding himself now trekking through the woods of the Swedish lands. He tightened his collar up around him tightly, feeling the cold try to sneak its way down into his bones and make them creak in tune to their true age.

Damn winters, he sighed, fingers flexing stiffly in his pockets. Nein. Damn Swedish winters…

Noise to his left made the German pause and glance in the direction. A grateful smile came to his face as from the trees a familiar navy coat came to view.

Berwald stood between the old trees; his arm carrying a bundle of freshly cut timber as the other lazily clutched the handle of an ax resting upon his shoulder. With a slow nod, the nation turned and walked back into the signs of a beginning blizzard, Ludwig quick to follow.