In the History Re-written Series, we start with the time of great raids

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia

Characters: Norway, Denmark, Sweden, Iceland, Finland, and Western Europe

Place: Northern and Western Europe

Date: 8th-11th centuries

Some beginnings start with endings...

A raven glided through the air coming to a rest on a branch of a gnarled birch, arranging his feathers as an adolescent looked on from his perch on his horse. He scrutinized the bird from below as it preened its feathers, reading its movements as if looking for a sign. The horse stomped the ground a hollow sound resonating thought its hoof. The eerie silence was relentlessly shattered as the crunch and snap of a snow-laden twig wounded the silence like a blade through flesh in an impractical approach. The young Norwegian sighed looking over his shoulder at an abnormally large tree, "Hello Denmark." He murmured with a blank look occupying his face. The Danish boy smiled obliviously and slung the ax that he carried over his shoulder like it weighed nothing more than an empty burlap bag. The two males stood in awkward silence for a moment until Denmark broke it with a nervous laugh.

"You know this is the first time that we've been on a raid since... since... dad" His words slowly became increasingly solemn as he talked on, trademark smirk slowly disappearing from his face until he looked down at his snow-covered feet wondering if they were numb by now.

"Yeah." Norway answered distantly, pained expression crossing his face only once. Kicking his horse forward he motioned for the Dane to follow as they descended down the craggy slope to the fjord where a certain Swede awaited with the vessel to travel across the liquid night to the south where all of Europe awaited.

~Hetalia~

The waves pounded against the sides of the dragon-headed ship, twenty foot waves crashed over the side of the boat pouring water and sea foam into the small, hand crafted vessel. With the stars blocked the Nordics had no idea of where they were in the oceans, having set off from Norway's home they had started south toward what the stars had guided as England but now they weren't to sure, caught up in the storm the teens removed the sail, waiting out the storm. In the process of the waves throwing water onboard and the teens bucketing it out as fast as they could, their food supplies was ruined with the amount of salt water that was pounding into it, they being teens hadn't thought of the fact that they might run into a freak storm like this one as their older seamen had said they would. Almost as soon as the rain and waves had started the sea calmed again, in the distance a large black spot could be seen, at first they thought it was a boat until the thing lifted it's head, sea weed hanging from it's jaws as ice banks formed around its massive body. Slimy scales glistened in the moonlight and Norway could make out the stars again.

Shouting orders to Denmark and Sweden the Norwegian quickly made his way around the boat murmuring protective spells under his breath, hoping to keep the snake at bay, even if it chose to beach them by lifting up part of it's body that swathed the world in a mass of giant snake.

The other two grunted as they hulled the soaking wet red and white sail up, and then proceeded to furiously throw buckets upon buckets of water out of the dragon vessel. They slipped across the deck to take their places at the ores prepared to row as soon as Norway returned form his spell-casting to give out orders, yes Norway was the one who gave orders. Norway was the most Viking out of the three and Sweden was far less, he hardly did any pirating since their father, Scandinavia had died in a raid against Britannia. He mostly went exploring east and had stumbled across Finland and Russia, whom he called Rus.

~Hetalia~

The three staggered onto the land beaching their small boat on the sandy shores. In the mad rush to get away from the hungry snake they had lost track of their position and had drifted farther south and west into a different territory. Deciding to explore a little more the three took their respective weapons and departed agreeing to meet up again at the height of Sol's path across the sky. Slipping on the loose sand Denmark managed to scrabble up the bank of the beach to meet fields and in the far distance towns. The messy-haired blonde proceeded to slink off in that direction noticing that Norway went north and Sweden went south so the only way to go was in the direction of the Sun goddess. Making a mental note to himself the Dane walked into the field of barley running his fingers through the stalks as he walked making a little trail bathed in the predawn light. Tiny dust partials danced in the air and he almost wished that he didn't have to carry around his ax all the time for self-protection and just lay in the green field all day. A few minutes after he had entered the green sea he had exited abruptly blue eyes snapping open at the lack of barley under his fingertips. He tripped over his own two feet and fell down an embankment, dust caking his brown clothing, clinging to the damp material. He huffed and just lay there for a few minutes. Deciding that he should get up or risk being found by a native to the unknown country that they had oh-so-conveniently landed on that morning, the country staggered and sauntered down the path leaving dusty footprints in the, well, dust. He meandered along the path a little more until a scraggly, ancient bush caught on his cloak, forcing him to thrash said shrub only to straighten his cloths and look around nervously once he realized that he was having a fight with the shrubbery. A gleam caught his eye and the Nordic brushed past the threatening shrub, brandishing his axe at it waiting for it to make a move, who knows what could be living in that thing?

After his lovely outing with the bush he came upon a small, secluded village that he had seen from the wheat field… that was in the distance… he'd gone in a circle… damn. Using about as much charm as a person covered in dust and smelling of saltwater and sweat could he swaggered into the small town to explore it a little more paying no heed to the rising goddess in the sky.

The village was small with quaint cobblestone streets and small shops with people wondering around buying bread and food at a market, the Dane took his time and flirted a little, not really understanding what the people were saying quite exactly. He almost felt at home in the quaint town and worried that should Norway decide to raid the area what would become of the people and their work. Banishing that thought and the audacity of it to the back of his mind he explored the area a little more finding all the escape routes and alleyways of the area.

It was way past noon when the nation turned on his heel and slipped out of the village unnoticed without turning many heads in the process. He stumbled over his feet as he ran turning every so often apprehensively to be sure that no one was watching him as he fled to get his friends, batting at the wheat he relishing in the cool breeze and the almost human touch that ruffled his already hopeless hair. His foot caught under a relatively large rock and he tripped falling flat on his face getting a mouthful of dirt. Sputtering he pushed himself onto his hands and knees, dirt leaving a gritty taste in his mouth as he crunched on sand and green wheat. T'was a lovely concoction that made the Dane grimace scraping his tongue against his upper teeth to rid himself of the taste he sat back wiping his mouth only to find a small girl staring at him with wide doe-like brown eyes, her caramel-coloured hair back in a braid. She was maybe six, possibly five. "Oh shit." He rasped.

The girl dashed off in the other direction yelling something along the lines of "Papa! Papa! A strange boy is eating our wheat!" There were tears in her eyes as she ran away wailing looking for her 'Papa' Denmark too this as the prime moment in his life to make a mad dash to the crest of the hill where their dragon ship lounged in waiting. Spurred on by the darkening sky he sprinted through the tall stalks, the tips smacking against his lower face and neck. Panting he stumbled to the crest of the hill to come face-to-blade with Norway's sword.

"Whoa! Norge! I swear I'm not a troll if that's what your thinking, not that I could compare to one of those blood-thirsty- ipe!" He yelped as the Norwegian punched him in the jaw.

"We said midday not midnight, were you that lost?" Was the blunt answer as the Dane rubbed his jaw; at least it wasn't Sweden who was currently cooking a rabbit over a spit.

"Damn Norge," He mumbled, "You've got quite the punch." The adolescent laughed nervously. "Yeah I got lost, fought with a bush, beat-up by a rock, and scared a small child."

By now Sweden had taken interest into what the argument was over. "Did you find a town?" the Swede asked, eyes boring into the Dane's skull in an unwavering sea-green gaze.

"Nope! There isn't nothing like that just beyond the field, no there isn't!" Came the apprehensive reply, it was amazing how fast one could crack when stared at by two of the most intimidating nations of that time.

"Especially one with food and supplies, or anything stupid like that. Ha, ha, ha." He gave a nervous laugh the more that Denmark was stared at the more that slipped past his lips. The other two shared a look and went back to the fire where the rabbit was well-cooked on the spit, the Vikings split the pitiful excuse for food between them and wolfed it down, nearly burning themselves on the scalding juices that came from the stringy rabbit-meat.

"We'll attack tomorrow morning it will be foggy so they wont suspect us, we'll have about an hour or two to take what we need to be ready, unless Denmark blew our cover and we have to fight for it, then wipe the village out." Norway ordered before Sweden went to take first watch.

The young Swede was soon tired of sitting in one area, and knowing that Norway would roast him over a pit should he disobey orders he decided to take a page out of Denmark's book and go against the flow. Knowing full well that should the Norwegian wake up he'd be pissed; Norway was one of those people that valued sleep above all else. Looking down on his sleeping friends he slipped up the rocky slope to explore what could work to their advantage tomorrow. Standing at the top of the ridge he observed his surroundings and noted a building that looked much like a barn that should be a good area to find horses to take back for trading with the other Nordic countries. Seeing a faint outline of a town in the distance that he had not noticed before he figured that it would be best to use the horses to get to the village and out as soon as possible with as much as possible.

Slipping back down to the camp the swede unceremoniously kicked Denmark to wake him up for the second shift. Sweden fell asleep watching the fog Norway said would come roll in.

Fin. The next chapter will be uploaded sometime next month, sorry for the vagueness but Finals are coming up and I'm terrible at math, isn't that great?

Please review if you have something to say, I really need to know if people like this or not, if you happen to have any ideas of what to name the little girl please tell me and in case you were wondering they landed in France in what will soon be Normandy, they were originally going to Scotland.