Title: A New Day Can Change Everything ~ Uusi päivä kaikki muuttaa voi
Rating: T
Pairings: None or at most implied.
Characters: Finland & Ensemble.
Warnings: In no particular order, mentions or descriptions of; blood, gore, history, famine, starvation, wars, diseases, cannibalism, religion, politics, snow, paganism, swearing, ranting and random culture stuff, random language stuff, nit-picking and Nations and their citizens being dicks because hey, that's history. Flashbacks ahoy!
Summary: Finland has always been caught between west and east, Sweden and Russia. Until now, west has had a firmer hold of him… Finland's story from Finnish War 1808 to the Congress of Vienna 1815. (Historical fic)
Disclaimer: This story is based on real history and people; as well as on characters and situations created and owned by Himaruya Hidekaz. No money is being made and no copyright, trademark infringement or gross historical inaccuracy is intended. Real people belong to themselves and I have no wish or intention to mock them in any way.
A/N: I was planning to write a lot longer fic, but I literally haven't written anything new for this in years, so I figured I might as well publish the nice (over 70K) chunk that I have written. Fortunately that chunk works as a story on it's own, with a few little tweaks here and there. I might write other chunks sometime in the future (or a series of one-shots in same timeline?) but that's not a promise. I've also been on the fringes of the fandom/not following Hetalia for a few years so if some info is off… well, it's fanfiction for a reason. I'm here for the history.
I'll be using languages for period accuracy and cultural flavour. I'm fluent in Finnish and my Swedish is passable. Other languages are transmalformed using Google translate. Translations and cultural notes are always provided at the end of the chapter in correct order. Word of warning, the notes are l o n g.
Please note I have taken many liberties with how real people are portrayed, I don't know how they really reacted or felt about certain things. My research on them is limited on how large their part in the story is and what info I needed/could find.
Please, if you have any questions, ask (either here or at tumblr, where you'll find me as returquoise as well) and I'll try to answer to the best of my ability.
The title: part of Runeberg's poem Vänrikin tervehdys (Second Lieutenant's Greeting).
Preface
Karhun synty
The Birth of the Bear
The river is peaceful as it flows through the forest in the quiet morning. Water ripples, creating dancing shadows between the small stones dotting the riverbed, as the sunlight flickers across the surface.
A swan cries in the distance.
The light catches a small form, curled up between the stones dotting the shores of the river.
A sleeping child, nothing more but a babe, all alone. Wheat blond hair shines under the sun, healthy red cheeks glow like apples in winter. A small hand clutches a scraggly piece of bone.
The child's sleep is peaceful and quiet, unburdened by dreams as a slight wind tickles his nose and ruffles his hair.
The child sighs quietly, his lips stretching into a slight smile.
It's not yet his time to wake.
Thus I heard it dictated,
and knew the hymn to be made:
for us the nights come alone,
for us the days dawn alone;
was Väinämöinen born alone,
appeared the eternal bard
from a slender carrier,
from mother Ilmatar.
The forest is quiet but for the song of the birds up in the trees. A child hums along softly as he lets his small fingers run slowly through the coarse brown fur, again and again. A small bear cub has curled up beside him, his head on the boy's knees, sleeping and seeing dreams of the forests and things the child doesn't know of. The boy smiles and tilts his head, his blond hair falling to his violet eyes as the cub's ears twitch in its sleep.
To any observer the boy would appear to be eight summers in age, wearing a knee-length un-dyed linen shirt – its neck adorned by a red ribbon – and brown trousers, his bark shoes lying on the ground beside him. He is a beautiful child, with a healthy, red-cheeked look to him but appearing somehow ethereal, being so at peace with the young King of the Forest beside him.
"There's a bear been given birth to,
the honey-paw been turned
beside the moon, at the edge of the day,
on the shoulders of the Big Dipper.
From there, lowered to the earth
a cradle of golden shine,
wrapped in silver cordons."
The boy sings softly and giggles as the bear's small wet nose twitches and then quiets down. For a moment he sits in silence while the cub sleeps, until suddenly its head shoots up, staring through the trees. The boy's gaze follows, only to feel the cub stand up, taking a step to the side, towards the thicket of trees at the edge of the meadow. The child doesn't pay any attention to it as the bear cub seems to somehow disappear into the shadows, becoming one with the forest. A lithe form of a predator seems to slink through the undergrowth before disappearing as well. Unconsciously, the boy reaches for the puukko hanging from his belt.
For a regular observer it would appear that the boy is alone in the meadow.
A moment later another boy – maybe twelve summers at most – walks out of the forest and looks down at the younger boy, an inscrutable look in his blue eyes.
"Suomi," he says, as if in greeting.
"Häme," the smaller boy – Suomi – replies, relaxing and letting go off the handle of his weapon. He knew that had he wanted to fight, he wouldn't win against the other. "What are you doing here?" he asks then.
Their voices are slightly hushed, as if to keep others from hearing them. The forests were holy and they protected you if you respected them. They both knew this from experience and exercised proper respect for the towering trees.
The older boy adjusts the birch bark pack slightly and sets it on the ground, followed soon by a spear and an axe. He sits down across from the smaller boy, not answering. They gaze into each others' eyes for a moment, blue meeting violet and watching as the rays of the spring sun dance upon their blond hair. Suomi can see a faint scar peeking from the neckline of older boy's shirt. A puukko with a beautifully engraved handle hangs from his belt as well.
"You aren't wearing your shoes," the older boy says then instead of answering the younger one's question.
Suomi shrugs his shoulders and glances to the side at his discarded shoes as he runs his pale finger over the petal of the delicate white, drooping flower beside him. "I like the grass between my toes," he says, a bit petulantly, his cheeks heating in embarrassment.
Häme chuckles a bit and leans back. "Such a child, still," he teases the boy, who scrunches his nose a bit but doesn't rise to the bait. He never really does, not with family. Anyone else is fair game, especially if they come traipsing through his lands.
Suomi raises his wide-eyed gaze from the flower. "You didn't answer my question," he admonishes.
Häme sighs a bit, gazing up at the canopy and the light-blue sky peeking out between the still thin leaf cover. "I'm going to Novgorod's place," he says finally, after a moment's contemplation on whether answer or not.
Suomi's eyes widen as fear grips his heart. Go to Novgorod's? Now? Yes, it happened from time to time and he even accompanied his brother sometimes because families help each other – except when Karjala is being a stupid girl and fights against them instead of Novgorod – but somehow he hasn't expected it to happen now. "Bu-but last year..." he whispers, biting his lip, his gaze shooting – almost without meaning to – to the scar on Häme's collarbone.
Häme turns his gaze away, running his fingers over the engraved wood of the axe handle, testing the sharpness of the blade with his thumb. "I need to avenge them, Suomi. You know how it is, they're my people and I can't let them be treated like that," his hands curl into tight fists, bunching up the hem of his shirt as he stares into the forest, his eyes distant and angry. Suomi bites his lower lip and looks down into his lap, fiddling with a loose string on the hem of his tunic. He'll need to fix it or ask one of the women in the town to do it.
After long moments of silence, Häme takes a deep breath and turns back to the smaller boy. "I just... thought you should know before I go."
Suomi bites his lip and hesitates for a moment before standing up and leaning over to hug Häme. The older boy stiffens for a moment but hesitantly returns the hug, burying his hand into Suomi's soft hair and breathing in his earthy scent strangely reminiscent of birch trees, mixed with the slight, salty whiff of the sea. He isn't doing this only for himself and his people, he reminds himself, but for Suomi and their other siblings, too.
"Be careful," the small boy finally orders as he pulls back, meeting the other's eyes again.
Häme grins wryly in an answer. "Sure thing, little brother."
It's a beautiful child Birger has found and brought for him to see at the camp. Hair like golden wheat under skördemånad – 'August,' he reminds himself firmly, 'It's August,' – sun and violet eyes bring to mind the deepest of lakes at sunset in the summer or the dancing lights in the sky in the north, even as they glare at him with a mix of anger and fear.
Swerike thinks he's seen glimpses of this child before, in the past. Running through the forests and villages as he traded or fought with her people. He's pretty sure she once shot at him, too.
The one thing taking away from the child's beauty is her kicking and screaming like a small devil as she's held aloft by the soldiers – who seem to have trouble holding her down in spite of the child's small size – unusually small even for someone who appeared to be eight years old. He can see one of them grimacing painfully as he's kicked in the stomach.
He's once again reminded why he preferred to trade with the locals. They are unexpectedly vicious if given a reason. But that hardly matters at the moment. He can sense it, the child's connection the land they're standing on. The child is a Nation like him – the personification of the people and the land.
And he needed her.
"Kotihisi, konna, riennä,
Paha, maahasi pakene,
Alle manteren yhdeksän,
Manner puolen kymmenettä–!"
The child pants and snarls, trying to catch her breath between the curses, shouted right at Swerike's face, tears springing to the corners of her eyes.
"Ikuisehen helvettihin,
Paksuhun pimentolahan,
Kuss' ei kuuta aurinkoa,
Ilmoa ihoavata –!"
He cannot understand a word the girl is shouting, her language odd and her tones lilting and hoarse in her anger. He suppresses a shudder, half-expecting to hear thunder grumbling in the distance, ready to strike him down at the order of this child.
"- Joss' on muutki murhamiehet,
Polvuiset pahantekiiät;
Sielt' ei kuulu kuuna päänä,
Ilmau sinä ikänä –!"
From the canting of the words, he could tell the child was using one of her pagan curses, most likely trying to drive him away. He's reminded of his own reluctance to turn to Christianity but it was happening, slowly but surely. Even this child's one measly diocese would gain power, leaving the land under the cross.
"Vaikk' ois päivyt päästämäsä,
Tahi kuu kumartamassa,
Otavainen ottamassa,
Tähet taivon tavoittamassa –!"
Swerike's gaze hardens as the child's curses falter, her violet eyes widening and the older Nation sees fear flash through them, stronger than earlier. He sees tears welling up in those eyes and crushes the stab of pity coursing through his heart. Now's not the time to feel sorry for the locals, human or not. He is not going to take any chances with that upstart Novgorod and if that means annexing this spot of land between them, he would do it because he needed that land to protect his people and gain power.
The child is opening her mouth to shout some more but before she can, Swerike crouches before her, quieting her again. Green eyes meet violet, the older one's glare dispassionate and the younger one's fearfully defiant. Yes, she had definitely shot him at some point, he recognised the glare.
He shakes his head to drive away such a useless memory.
"Swerike," he grunts, his voice higher than one would expect from his appearance and the child looks more confused than scared now.
"Swerike," he repeats and taps meaningfully at his chest.
The girl seems to understand and hesitates only for a moment before answering. "... Suomi."
The name sounds weird, like it's meant to be sung, and he suspects he wouldn't be able to say it properly, so he won't try. His people have been calling this land beyond the sea by other name for a long time, name that was going to be used even now when that land belongs to them. But now is not the time to tell it to this child. He has time for that later.
He stands up, glancing over at the soldiers and Birger standing to the side, his eyebrow raised.
"The girl's coming with us."
Wide eyes blink in confusion as they look up at the taller blond Nation. The flash in their depths tells him that even if she doesn't understand what he's saying, she still knows things are going to change.
A/N:
The first scene: date unknown, my interpretation on where and how Finland came to be. Vague and artsy because prehistory.
Väinä: old Finnish word for stream pool. -nen end was originally interpreted to mean "of/from something" or the "son of someone".
The poem is a translated fragment from the first Kalevala rune. Finnish version provided for the curious.
Noin kuulin saneltavaksi,
tiesin virttä tehtäväksi:
yksin meillä yöt tulevat,
yksin päivät valkeavat;
yksin syntyi Väinämöinen,
ilmestyi ikirunoja
kapehesta kantajasta,
Ilmattaresta emosta.
Ilmatar: Maiden of Air.
The second scene: the Finnish-Novgorodian War in 1228 when people called "Yem" (quite possibly the people of Häme) attacked Novgorod as revenge for previous year's raid.
Novgorod: west Russian state in 1136-1478; the Russia in season 5 ep. 4 is Novgorod.
The quote in italics is an old Finnish poem about the birth of a bear in heavens. Several versions exist, including one in Kalevala (the first four lines are identical, the rest differ). Finnish version fro the curious.
"Tuoll' on otso synnytetty,
mesikämmen käännytetty
luona kuun, tykönä päivän,
otavaisen olkapäillä.
Sielt' on maahan laskettuna
kultaisessa kätkyessä,
vitjoissa hopeisissa"
The bear cub: Finnish National Animal is a bear and it was a holy animal in Finnish paganism.
Puukko: a Finnish knife for universal use. The blade design is a bit unusual compared to knives elsewhere, so I recommend you look it up on wiki.
Häme (Fin.): Province of Tavastia, right to the east of Finland Proper (Swe. Tavastland)
Suomi (Fin.): Finland, back before the 14th century only the south-western part of the land was called by that name, before it started to mean the whole land. Also, the oldest town in Finland, its old capital Turku is located there, through which flows the Aura River.
Karjala (Fin.): Province of Karelia, (most of which was lost to Soviet Union during WWII); during this time period the Karelians sometimes sided with Novgorodians instead of other Finnic tribes in conflicts.
The third scene: circa 1252, when Jarl Birger officially annexes the south-western parts of Finland to Sweden.
Skördemånad (Swe.): "harvesting/reaping month", a somewhat archaic Swedish name for August.
Swerike (Swe.): Sweden; archaic spelling used during the late 13th century, comes from combination of words "svear" and "rike", meaning the "Swedes' kingdom". The modern spelling is "Sverige."
Finland was never under Viking rule but it was raided sometimes. Vikings seemed to prefer trading with the Finnic tribes. However, there's a story about epically failed (Norwegian) raid to Häme so that might have something to do with it...? And Vikings totally thought Finns were witches specialising in weather.
That curse is a thing of beauty and from another book (Suomen kansan muinaisia loitsurunoja, Ancient Spellrunes of the Finnish People) compiled by Elias Lönnrot and published in 1880. This part is in Finnish because obviously Sweden has zero idea what Finland is saying. Here, have my crappy kinda-direct translation:
"Hurry home, scoundrel,
Escape, evil, back to your country,
Under the nine continents,
Continent half a tenth,
Into eternal hell,
Into deep nest of darkness,
Where there's no moon, sun,
Breeze on your skin,
With other murderers,
Age-old evildoers;
There you won't ever be heard,
You'll never come out,
Even if days were letting,
Or the moon were bowing,
The Big Dipper taking,
The stars of the sky reaching!"
Writing accents is a waste of my time.
Finland: girl?! Sweden's just thick and Suomi is a cute little critter, but a boy nonetheless. The wife thing had to come from somewhere.
The Finns and Swedes reading this can probably tell that I think Holy Eric's legend (written, around 1250, about a century after the supposed event) is mostly bullshit – or at least the true events were considerably less grand than they're described. Why they still teach this in Finnish schools is a mystery to me.
Finland was first listed as one of Swedish dioceses in 1253, which I count as cementing their influence and establishing control – the official inclusion of Finland as a part of Sweden.