::A/N:: I don't own hetalia

For tumblr user woxihuanchirenrou! Kyra, I hope you like this. Happy holidays!

If my Danish title is morbidly wrong, please feel free to correct me!

The Nine Giants Resthouse was a two-floor, perfectly square establishment that was one of the oldest and most popular buildings in the entire town. In a land of snow dressed trees and ice capped mountains jutting into the grey sky, the orange warmth of a familiar hearth was a solace all on its own. When that fire was surrounded by friends and family, for many, it became a second home.

But it was a first for Matthias Køhler. The man's earliest memories were of his grandfather and grandmother arguing behind the bar, his mother serving the regulars just as the sun was setting, his father opening the year's finest brew to share on the coldest winter night. He grew up wiping tables and washing dishes, baking apple-cardamom bread on lazy afternoons, and listening to the men traipse in from the forest to share stories of great bears and swift deer, while he sat on his father's feet and envied their powerful freedom.

Now Matthias was all of sixteen, a powerful youth coming into a powerful legacy. He was four days away from manhood, four days away from his seventeenth year, and the alehouse had never seen more energy within its four walls than it did on that particularly bitter January evening.

"Good evenin', Elizaveta! How are the trade routes this year?" Matthias inquired, setting down the foaming pint of lager in front of the sinewy slip of a woman.

The shadow of a laugh lingered in her face as she turned from her companion to thank him. "Holding up better than expected, but North Way is virtually snowed in."

Her companion, pale as snow to the roots of his hair, slapped the table in what Matthias couldn't decipher as frustration or vigorous agreement. "Nearly lost a wagon just getting here," he growled, throwing back a swig of his own southern alcohol. "Had to leave Ole Helga behind."

Elizaveta snorted, shoving his face towards the table. "Don't act like she wasn't on her last legs, Gilbert. The horse was twenty-five."

"She was as old as me!" he rebuked, slapping aside her hands, red eyes blazing with anger and the tiniest bit of amusement.

"And sometimes, I wonder if you're not better left in the snow!" was Eliza's repost.

Matthias roared with belly-deep laughter, patting both merchants once on the back and leaving them to their squabbles. They were annuals, always making the dangerous trek north to trade with the village. Gilbert might grumble and Eliza might scoff, but Matthias, and all of his far-extending neighbors (including the ones towns over), owed their lives to the unlikely pair.

Sliding back behind the familiar bar, Matthias maneuvered behind his mother's generous girth to access his father, a sturdy tree of a fellow who was deep in conversation with a man Matthias had never seen before. The interloper was young, maybe a year shy of Matthias' own age, with pale hair traditional of the islanders even farther north. He wore a heavy cloak made for distance, and a pack rested at his fur-clad feet. The traveler's mouth was set in a hard line, and it appeared that he was in an argument with Matthias' father. That alone floored Matthias, who had rarely seen either of his parents in a real row, much less red in the face and spitting with anger.

"It's imperative that you allow me access to your maps. You have little idea what you're foolishly turning a blind eye towards!" the foreign man hissed, accent thick in his furious words.

"You're chasin' a dream! There's nothing of the sort in the forest, and I won't have you riskin' yer life for a boy's fantasy."

Matthias blinked, lost by lack of knowledge. All he knew was the look in the stranger's eye, the one that abhorred being referred to like a child. He stepped in, smoothly emerging from the shadows to tap his father on the shoulder.

"What?" he asked gruffly, regarding his only son.

"The sage in the corner is asking for sake. I remember a shipment coming in last year, but I don't know where it is in the back room. Figured you were the man for the job."

His father grunted, pushing off the counter and onto the balls of his two aging feet. His eyes flashed in the direction of the stranger one last time, and he spat a short, "Fool's errand."

Matthias watched his father trundle away, bemused to say the least. But the traveler had piqued his interest, and Matthias found himself with a question on his lips. "So, what's got you so riled up?" he asked, pivoting to take over the conversation in his father's place. But the man was gone, and Matthias couldn't discern him among the tens of towheads getting warmed by mead. "Shit," he muttered.

In seconds, his concentration was snagged by a patron who began waving him down. He recognized the adventurer, and filled a new glass accordingly. As he neared the westernmost side of the tavern, the boisterous conversation made itself known to Matthias' ears.

"We climbed the side of the mountain-"

"Cliff."

"And there was the largest, meanest, nastiest dragon you will ever see! It was fifty-"

"Forty."

"-heads high! Dios mio, I was scared for our lives! But Lovi-"

"Motherfucking Lovino, you shit."

"-was not daunted! No, I tell you, he raised his sword against the beast!"

The crowd 'ah'ed and Matthias grinned, placing the glass of wine in front of Antonio Carriedo, the man of the hour, who never seemed at a loss for a story to tell. His drinking-mate, or more of a mate mate as far as Matthias reckoned, was as angry and moody as usual, auburn hair falling across golden eyes, corrections fast on his sharp tongue. He was a looker, for sure, when he managed to pull his head out of his ass. Either way, the duo was a real riot to have around, and the Køhler clan held them in amiable respects whatever the season they chose to drop by.

Antonio perched on the back of his chair, legs flung atop the seat, and he flashed Matthias his dazzling smile. It was so warm, the room tasted summer for a moment. "Thanks amigo. Care to hear out the rest of the story? I'll wager you haven't heard this one yet."

"Cazzo, can we just leave?" Lovino muttered, stealing the glass of wine in a deft flick of the wrist.

"Aw, Lovi, we just arrived, and we haven't even told the best part!" The Southern man began the epic anew, accent once more ringing forth, hinting at sunny beaches and fiery nights. A real orator, Antonio effectively recaptured the audience, and frost bitten cheeks craved for the inevitable fire. "The monster roared and the biggest teeth I've ever seen came careening downwards. I pushed Lovi to safety just in time-"

"It was the other goddamn way, you idiot! I had to push you out of the way!"

"- before the beast could slice us in half! If I say anything about this country, I praise the ferocity of your brutes!"

The crowd let up a general roar of approval (Lovino let out a customary "Gesù Cristo") and Matthias couldn't help but whoop along with them. Antonio knew how to rile a group in just the right ways. However, as Matthias blithely scanned the contented assembled; he noticed one odd one out of the bunch. Recognizable with his virtually remarkable pale hair and dark scowl, Matthias suddenly felt his heart speed up.

He sidled between chairs and tables, all turned to bask in Antonio's glory, casting a guilty glance over his shoulder. Both his parents seemed deeply preoccupied, so he let the thought flit from his mind. The traveler had his utmost attention.

The man spotted his advance well before he finally stumbled over the final patron in his way. The traveler looked less than amused.

"I saw you talking to my father."

The man inclined his head in a general acknowledgment of the statement. "Then you also saw that we had little to discuss."

Matthias raised a blond eyebrow. "It looked like you had quite a deal on your mind."

The man grunted, dark blue eyes reflecting the candelabras fixed to the wall. "Your father expressed no interest in my proposition."

Matthias wasn't sure if he should pretend to know what the stranger meant or not. He reckoned this man could tell a liar from a pack. "And what proposition might that be?"

The stranger's gaze was sharp and accusatory, but curiosity was suffocating all sense of self-preservation in Matthias. "… If you are not privy, perhaps it's not my place."

Matthias snorted. "Please, I'm older than you, I know how shit feels; you don't need to act superior. Let me just say that I'm a hell of a lot more sympathetic than my father, so if you want an audience, I'm listening."

The stranger blinked, for the first time showing surprise. "… Fine. You see those two, there? The travelers?" he indicated Antonio and Lovino. Matthias nodded. It was hard to miss them. "Well, that story they're telling isn't a story. It's truth. They met a dragon, the dragon of your forest, and I'm interested in… manipulating that dragon's situation."

Matthias was more than a little impressed by the whole idea. "Not a myth? But we've never seen what Antonio's describing before, and please, we all know he's prone to stretching the facts."

"But his friend isn't. At first, I also thought he was too good to be true, but his angry companion is downsizing his story to exactly what my sources have outlined for me."

Matthias whistled. "That's incredible. So what, you're planning on finding this thing?"

Here, the stranger growled low, eyes snapping to the bar. "I need your father's maps. It's pointless without them. The dragon isn't just leaving tracks in the forest, he's somewhere remote. If I could just get an idea of the landscape, I could pin down some basic places to look. And after that, I have my sources."

Matthias wasn't sure what to think. Here was a perfect stranger, a foreigner younger than him, who was planning on hunting what sounded like a full-fledged terrifying dragon (the stuff of legends). Basically, it was the coolest plan that had ever crossed his path, and he would be an idiot to let it pass him by. He obviously had a prime leverage for blackmail, the maps, so not much was stopping him. … On the other hand, he was turning seventeen in four days, and a coming of age ceremony was kind of a must. If he wasn't present, he would have to wait another year to be recognized as a man, maybe more if his parents found out he was dragon hunting.

But it was dragon hunting.

Matthias straightened his already considerably broad shoulders, aiming for height and intimidation. "I've my own proposition to make."

"Do you."

"Yes. I can get my father's maps," he began, noting the stranger's sparkling eyes, "but I get to come on your hunt."

"You are kidding with me."

Matthias held strong. "No, I'm dead serious. I want in."

"You're nuts," the stranger muttered, obviously conflicted.

"If my father's maps are really the only way, then I'm part of the deal." Matthias knew he had won. His father was truly the only man in the entire village with up-to-date blueprints of the landscape, and the next village was a two day trek. With the snow and ice, it was closer to five. If Matthias was playing his cards correctly, this foreigner couldn't wait that long. For whatever reason, this hunt was critical to him.

"Fine!" the youth finally snapped, thin mouth curved in a snarl. "But you better be able to take care of yourself!"

Matthias chortled. As though that would pose an issue. "Well then, partner, how about we meet in the morning? Early, before dawn. I'll bring the maps and some food if you can handle the other provisions."

With every word, the hunter was looking more and more dubious, but in the end, he gave in.

"See you in a few hours then, …"

"Emil," the blonde kid said, briefly shaking the hand outstretched to him.

"My name's Matthias. Pleasure doing business with you."

Emil sneered.

Feel free to review. I always love feedback and support.

Thanks for the favorites and/or follows.

... haha shameless OTP inserts. But seriously, this is going to evolve into a DenNor fic, but by no means is DenNor the central pairing. Obviously we have Emil here, and the other two Nordics won't be left out to dry.