Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I continue to disclaim.
Denmark gripped an axe in one hand and a gun in the other, a grin ripped his face in two. The idiot always thought he could double wield. "You are going to get yourself killed."
Denmark glanced at Norway, who looked too clean and pristine among the dirt, smoke, and grime. Norway always wore white and should have stood out, but somehow he always managed to elude detection. Denmark's face contorted to a grimace and Norway was disturbed to note that the two expressions were really very similar. "Get yer arms ready. They're comin'."
Norway sighed and ducked to a crouch and held his rifle the way Finland had shown him all those years ago. Denmark's grin was back and Norway knew he was reliving old Norse tales. He probably had dreams of feasting in Valhalla every night.
The earth shuddered and Denmark's grin widened. He glanced at Norway, whose thin face was set into an icy frown. "Ragnarok." He slipped goggles onto his face and Norway hid his eyes behind the scope. Sometimes it really did feel like the end of the world.
Denmark broke cover with a berserker cry and Norway hastily fired rounds, hoping to kill some of the creatures before Denmark reached them. Two spiders hit the dust and rolled, knocking others off their spindly iron legs. Denmark's axe split another in two. The odds were not in their favour.
Another war cry echoed from somewhere off in the distance and Norway hoped it was not foe. The light flashed off a spear in the dust and Norway waited, silently hoping that Denmark had not yet managed to get himself killed.
Two figures emerged. Denmark was blood splattered and still wearing the grin that was more deranged now than it had ever been during their viking days. Sweden stood next to him, his face covered in black grime and his spear painted with blood. He walked with a limp. Norway slung his gun across his back and smiled. It was the first time he smiled in what felt like years.
They sat in a half dilapidated house while the rain splattered outside. Denmark's hands itched for tobacco. They didn't have any. Nobody had any. Norway was tending to Sweden's leg, muttering about healing spells and England's brothers. Norway was a viking to the core, no matter how much he had changed in recent years, and his magic had always held a destructive edge. It was the most Denmark had heard Norway speak since they had begun travelling together.
"Don't worry," Sweden gruffly pushed Norway's thin hands away, "Its been that way fer weeks."
Denmark threw a roll of tape from his bag to Norway, who caught it without looking up from Sweden's leg. "I might be able to fix it."
Sweden allowed Norway to bind his leg, his face hard planes in the flickering light.
They had pushed into what had been Finland's country. It was snowing ash. Denmark and Norway had bandanas tied over their mouths, but Sweden had a gas mask. Norway's magic had done the trick and Sweden no longer walked with a limp.
Denmark yelled over the wind, "Finland's still here?"
Sweden's eyes blinked out from the mask's face. He didn't answer. They were crossing the roof of the world. The Gulf of Bothnia churned and boiled with mud and ash.
Denmark was humming a viking war hymn louder than he should. Norway found himself singing along.
"Its suppos'd to be three winters." Sweden was trying to light a fire, but the damp and the wind and the cold and the ash prevented anything from taking light. Everything flickered and died.
"Skoll ate the sun months ago." Norway agreed, privately, with Denmark's assessment, refusing to participate in Sweden's quiet, stoic optimism.
Their fires continued to flicker and die. Denmark found a doll in the rubble of the old church they were in. An eye was missing. It was made of cloth and seemed to be from an age before plastics. The doll came with them when they left the next day, tucked into the front of Denmark's ragged button down like a baby. Less than a week would go by before her blonde hair was stained grey.
They were all stained grey nowadays. The ash continued to fall. Norway had only seen ash like this when Iceland was having volcano problems. He breathed it in, despite his bandana, and believed he was inhaling the essence of his little brother.
They found Finland, eyes frozen open in horror. They buried him in ash. Norway wondered if Yggdrasil was disintegrating up there. Sweden and Denmark sang old hymns in his memory, even though they were not part of Finland's coda. Norway tasted the ash on his tongue and mourned the loss of his brothers.
They took turns wearing the gas mask while they trudged across the endless patches of grey ice. It didn't help. They all coughed up blood now, the only bit of colour in a colourless world.
Sweden's suit was torn at the elbows and knees from their last encounter with animals they couldn't put a name to. Denmark patched it with string floss and rough dark canvas. They ate beans, cold from the can and none of them dared to drink the water. They would have to search for some old farmhouse later and hope for a covered well.
They would huddle together against the wind. Denmark's and Sweden's long arms curling around each other for warmth, a protective barrier against the cold. Norway found himself often crouched between them, breathing warm breath upon their necks. They spoke of heading back South and trying to cross to continental Europe. Maybe it would be warmer there.
The Scandes had erupted in fits of godly rage, they rumbled and roared and mocked all who dared to cross them. Norway had not seen the mountains in such a rage in his entire life. They couldn't head back. Ash continued to rain down. They could only trudge onward. Northward.
The Barents Sea was eating the coastline. The earth trembled and Norway swore he could heard the leaves of Yggdrasil moaning. They stood at the northernmost tip, where the lands of Russia and Norway used to kiss. They stood at the gates of Hel.
"Hel! Open up Niflheim for the warriors three!" Norway wondered at the monsters Denmark could see, as his face ripped in grin when the wind howled back an answer.
Hand in hand in hand they sought the life-giving spring Hvergelmir. With burning ice and biting flame it was how the world began and would begin again.
More creatures attacked them. They were more mechanical than flesh and spoke in creaks and clatters that were more Russian than Finnish. They must have crossed the border. They had no way of knowing. Hati had long ago mangled the stars.
Norway felt a pang of sadness as he loaded his gun and set his scope on the metal creatures. He would be out of bullets soon. They hadn't found more, hadn't set sights on anything near to civilised in weeks.
Sweden and Denmark charged the creatures. Denmark had found a second axe and now Sweden had one as well. Norway remembered the old days when they had conquered land with this same strategy. It had always stood them in good stead in the past.
Denmark howled hymns as he fought, offering up his kills to the Terrible One. Denmark thought he could hear the wingbeats of the Valkyries with every near miss. He smiled wildly, disturbingly, at the thought.
Norway felt his magic failing and hoped they wouldn't die yet. Could warriors go to Valhalla if if the world was already at its end?
Notes:
Valhalla - (The Hall of the Slain) A hall presided over by Odin, where dead warriors feast and fight and await the great battle during Ragnarok.
Ragnarok - (Destruction of the Powers) Final battle between gods and giants, wherein all life is destroyed and the nine realms are submerged.
Gulf of Bothnia - Part of the Baltic Sea, it is between the east coast of Sweden and the west coast of Finland.
"Its suppos'd to be three winters." - Sweden is referring to the beginning of Ragnarok, which is heralded by Fimbulvetr (the winter of winters), three of which will happen in a row with no summer between.
Skoll - The wolf who chases the sun and when Ragnarok is about to occur finally manages to catch it in his jaws.
Iceland's Volcano Problems - I am of course referring to the eruptions of Eyjafjallajökull in 2010 and Grímsvötn in 2011, which sent huge plumes of ash and smoke into the air and were generally disruptive.
Yggdrasil - (The Terrible One's Horse) The World Tree, its ash and it stands at the centre of Nordic cosmology. It is linked and shelters the nine realms.
Finland's Coda - Finland practised a Finnish paganism, which was a polytheistic religion native to the area (also practised in Estonia and Karelia). It had similarities and ties to Norse, Baltic, and Germanic religions, but had some of its own distinct differences.
Scandes - The mountain range in Scandinavia. The Scandes are part of the same range that includes the Scottish Highlands, the mountains in Ireland, and the Appalachians. It does not, to the best of my knowledge, contain volcanoes active or otherwise, but anything can happen during Ragnarok.
Barents Sea - Located in the Arctic Ocean, it is north of Russia and Norway.
Hel - Hel is both the citadel of the underworld, where the dead live, and the daughter of Loki, who guards it.
Niflheim - The underworld, it is a dark and cold place where the dead belong. Hel is within it.
Hvergelmir - The spring in Niflheim where the eleven rivers come from.
Hati - The wolf who chases the moon, and when Ragnarok is about to occur manages to catch it in his jaws. I have also given Hati the task of mangling the stars here, and though the stars do vanish when the moon is caught I am not sure if it is Hati's job as well.
Terrible One - Another name for Odin. (He also goes by Allfather, Father of Battle and One-Eyed)
Valkyries - (Choosers of the Slain) The ones doom warriors to die and then brought them to Valhalla. They were originally depicted as birds, but later came to be associated with fair, but fierce, maidens.
All the Norse Mythology has been taken from a book I own about it, written by Kevin Crossley-Holland.
Thank you for reading! I appreciate any and all comments/criticisms. Also if you see spelling or grammatical errors let me know so I can fix them.