I do not own Hetalia
I do not own the characters
I do own the story and plot

Prologue

Pale light licked over the distant silhouettes of dark conifers; the lurid dawn sweeping a few misty clouds against the horizon. The setting almost resembled that of a pastel water colour, the sky's pallet consisting of bleak pink, blue and soft yellow morning sun spilled the creamy haze over the frosted ground, which surrounded a small clearing.

A make-shift den was pitched in the centre; coupled by a burnt out camp fire. The occupant of such was yet to show their face, though the rustling from within the animal hide walls suggested their activity.

Before long, they emerged, unfastening the ties which held their make shift structure together. Lukas Bondevik; a tired Norwegian, who, with low spirits had just awoke. He had he appalling task of having yet to trek through this dense coniferous forest. The reason he had spent the last week making his way to the coastal border of Norway was because of his little brother Emil.

The lad lived in Iceland, an island that he'd have to sail to in order to be of his aid. Since the Kalmar Union had been instated, Iceland's rule fell under Danish control. Apparently they did not offer the required amount of security and a fleet of Turkish pirates were abducting hundreds of Icelanders.

So, in fear of his kin's safety he had taken it upon himself to personally 'rescue' Emil. Though, it was sharply looked down upon by his subjects in Norway. A monarch, Prince of Norway, going on such a quest with no guidance, not even a guard to assure his safety; stubborn was the word that people accused him with.

He'd made it through this far though; even been able to catch his own meals with a slender bow of yew. Lukas stepped out onto the frozen earth, arching his back with a stretch. His arms recoiled around his chest, billowing out plumes of hot air from his mouth. He slid around on his heel to face his shelter, slumped at the side of the entrance was his old, fur-lined cloak.

He twisted up his usual placid face into that of annoyance at himself. Why on earth did he leave it outside? Never the less, he shook the tattered robe of frost and pulled it around his shoulders, needless to say it made him more cold that warm for the time being.

Lukas fixed the thin leather together with an embellished gold button. With a dry mouth, and painful stomach, he knew that he needed to catch food and find water before packing up his things and continuing. This as his next necessity he dipped back into the dying warmth of his tent and pulled out arrows and his bow.

He traced the carvings with his index finger as he gripped the smooth weapon. Lukas trod into the pine forest, to his dismay the ground beneath his feet crunched in immediate pressure to his footing.

No matter how softly he tried to step, the leaves cracked under him, sending another wave of birds fleeing to the skies. He tucked his bow into his belt, Lukas unintentionally raised both arms slightly and trod slowly forward. *CRUNCH* He let out a small sigh, brows furrowing slightly, he tried again. *CRUNCH*. He wondered how such small brittle leaves could make such a noise. Again. *CRUNCH*.

Lukas dropped his head back in annoyance. On regaining his posture, he contemplated just giving up and going back to his camp, knowing starvation and dehydration weren't an option, he continued forward, deciding it'd be easier to carry on thundering through the woods. Instead of course stepping like mouse with the same volume.

Besides, he could always fish for food; if that is, if he found some source of water. Yet with high hopes he decided to try anyway. Lukas had only made it a short way before he noticed the sound of running water. Perhaps he was imagining it, but never the less, he was certainly going to trail after the splashing noise.

Before long, he reached the source. A gentle flow, simmering against the pale ice of a small stream. The water dipped into a curve of earth, hollowing out a frosted, icy path. Waves of the sharp sharped liquid bubbled from either sides of the shifting layer. Lukas stepped over to it, he could easily hop from one side to the other. His hopes of discovering fish slipping away. At least he could get a drink from it, as well as filling up his wax, leather flask for the oncoming journey.

Kneeling on the brittle grass, Lukas knocked onto the surface, testing it's stability. With harder crash of his fist, he splintered the surface. Pressured water pulsed out; like a speeding hare, the water glided along the top.

Lukas pulled his now colder hand away from the puncture, swiping it on his cloak. He cupped his hands and let the painfully cold water filter through his fingers, before drawing the clear liquid to his mouth. With the remnants on his hands, he swiped his face. Rubbing away any sleep-dust or general dirt. It had been a week after all.

After filling his flask, and placing it back at his side, Lukas took off his cloak, over-shirt and rolled up his sleeves. He may as well take this as an opportunity to wash minimally. Lukas drew the water threw his hair with his fingers, scrubbed at his fore-arms and slipped his bare feet into the freezing water.

With this unpleasant ordeal over, he pulled his overall, cloak and boots, before standing up to leave. Lukas walked away, back into the denser part of the forest, trailing after his own foot-steps, in hope he wouldn't get lost.

It wasn't that long before he reached the incoming slope that would incline to his make-shift. Lukas climbed the slippery hill, his feet skidding. As he fell backwards, Lukas slammed his palms against the cold earth, dragging his torso to the top and carefully treading back down. What came to meet his eyes was a big surprise.

Where his tent once stood, where his fire, his belongings, even the branch he'd adopted as a walking stick...Vanished. Gone. No where to be seen. His vision panned around the bare clearing. Surely he'd made it back to the right clearing? His cold blue gaze narrowed. I've been robbed. He thought to himself blankly. But then, in the corner of his eye he saw all of his things.

They were packed neatly, his luggage folded into his bag. Tent wrapped up and hooked onto the top. It was compacted perfectly and just sitting in the middle of his original camp. Dumbfounded, Lukas just opened his mouth slightly, as if he were going to say something. But with quick consideration, a cock of the head and his hand pressed against his mouth. He just stood there contemplating what had just happened.

Lukas wandered forward, glancing around the area. Who could it have been? Nobody lives around here...He thought, still in utter confusion. He resolved the issue quickly though, the corners of his mouth twitching when he came to the conclusion. Forest elves. Of course. He was flattered, and enchanted that'd he'd happened upon the work of elves. They must've been looking out for him all this time. They must respect him as a Prince.

Lukas loved the spiritual happening of the forest, and at last he'd been able to witness their glorious work. He turned to the trees, bowing slightly in respect for the wonderful help he'd received from the creatures he believed and loved most dearly.

Suddenly he heard some of those brittle leaves snap. Lukas whipped around drawing his bow as a shadow passed through the trees. A deer. Of course, being in the clearing, he had no frosted leaves to break, he had an advantage. Perhaps the forest elves had drawn the animal to this place as well. Flattered, he readied his bow, awaiting the animal to reveal itself.

He quietly pulled an arrow from it's sheath, stretching it and aiming for the trees. His breath slowed, he stood still, straight, positioned. Bringing down such a creature would surely sustain him for a while. The added plus of the helpful elves, which of course he couldn't let down. Not after they'd lured him a meal.

Suddenly, the shadow raced past, diving for the cover of the denser, thicket. Lukas released his arrow, which missed by an inch, puncturing the bark of a tall yew. Followed by the attack came an almost feminine shrill cry.

"No! Don't shoot!" It yelped, covering under the shelter of the next tree along, you could hear the ragged, scared breaths of the person. A person. A person?

Lukas almost dropped his bow in shock, this was not what he'd expected at all.

"I..." He begun , blinking with further confusion.

"S'all right. The Prince isn't gonna hurt'us." Came a third voice.

Lukas could barely speak. Who were these people, how did they know who he was and what on earth were they doing wondering around the forest?

That's all for now! I know it's just a short, relatively boring prologue, but I assure you it'll get better. You see, the general plot is based off of the Kalmar Union of Scandinavia. Danish monarchy took over Iceland, and since they didn't run it very well, Turkish pirates took some of them as slaves.

So what it'll involve is Lukas the Norwegian Prince (Norway) going to rescue his brother along with Berwald the Guard and Tino the (bad) Musician/Entertainer. Then when they finally arrive in Iceland some cool stuff goes down. Yeah.

It's going to be a long fanfiction, so I'll base my opinion on whether I should continue it or not depending on the popularity in the first Chapter or two. So I'd really appreciate if you want it to continue just review or PM me.

Hope you liked it! x