I do not own Axis Powers Hetalia.
You get the strangest feeling when you're betrayed.
Especially by someone close to you, someone you've fought with, cried with and laughed with. Talked with for hours and sat quietly together without a word passing between you but still thousands of words being said.
It's weird. It's not like anything else and you don't feel it often. It's only when it's a truly deep betrayal. When you only stand back as it happens, maybe open your mouth as if to protest but you know there is really nothing you can to do right it. It's like watching a train in slow motion, heading for the ending station but with no intention of stopping.
It's such a feeling. You just feel like there's a rush going through you, as if someone poured a bucket of cold water over your head.
That is how Norway felt, on April 9th. The day where he suddenly had German soldiers and ships at his doorstep, catching him completely unaware because whoever said the Nazis would care if he had declared himself neutral.
He had let his military strength decline. It wasn't even that many years since he had had the strongest and best military in the whole world. No one had come knocking on his doors in the first World War, no one dared with his top modern equipment and training.
As it was though, he was too naive. He didn't think. People didn't just stop quarrelling like that. He hadn't updated anything. A few years passed and suddenly he was far behind, he hadn't thought there was a need for a great military strength anymore. He wasn't one for war, you were peaceful and had enough with you own and liked to keep it that way.
And he had thought, like the naive, stupid fool he was that his brothers would stand behind his back. Help him out, support him and lend him strength. Like brothers are supposed to do.
But no; there's a traitorous Swede in the group. One who let those damn war hungry lunatics ride straight through his country. The fields and mountains and forests that were so much like his and yet so different; a train loaded with guns, ammunition and manpower. Speeding across the soil and dirt to the neighbour, country, brother; Norway.
Betrayal. It's the feeling you get one morning when there's suddenly a German ship sailing up one of your fjords, coming so, so close to your capital. You're lucky to have such brave men, women, mere children who will stand their ground until death forces them down and still struggle.
They ship sunk, it never reached Oslo, the heart. You got help from the Brits further north, from a country that you had invaded and plundered several centuries ago. They helped, supported you when you managed to save the Royal family and most of the government. You even managed to hold on the longest, fought the longest before finally admitting defeat, and even then you still fought some.
And off to the side he is. A neutral country. One you thought to be your brother, who you had been in a union with not even half a century ago and he let them through.
And there is nothing you can do but watch, feeling the water rush through your upper body and your heart sinks as your people groan and complain, they want their freedom back. Wave their flags and sing your song and be free.
You make sure to not fall into that trap again. Don't trust him. Don't trust the others either or it will happen again. You don't want ever again to sit by the side and watch the train crash and kill and burn. You keep your back protected and hide the knives, cover your mouth and hide your feelings and nothing bad will happen and you're fine.
You'll shoulder your backpack and march on.
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