A/N: I had so much fun writing this, and I did it all in one day. ^_^
So many headcannons that I cannot begin to even count them. Have fun reading!

Prussia sighed. Austria was useless beyond imagining. He wondered how he had survived this long. He ran a hand through his white hair as his brother struggled to retrieve a rabbit from a trap.

They were doing what they did every morning, going out in the snow to check the traps that had been set the night before. Austria, dagger in hand, was sawing at a bit of rope, without much luck. He paused momentarily to shake his dark hair out of his violet eyes.

"Austria, that's not going to work." Prussia gently took the knife from his hand and began to cut more efficiently, explaining what he was doing. "See, you have to hold the rope taunt, or else it won't cut. Then, you have to catch the rabbit so that the meat doesn't bruise. Hey, what's that face for? The awesome me's just trying to explain how to do it better!" Austria stopped glaring to close his eyes and stick his nose in the air.

"You keep saying how "awesome" you are, it's getting on my nerves." Prussia bit back a sigh.

"It's because I'm awesome and you're not!" Austria stood abruptly.

"You are such an ego-maniac!" He scolded, brushing snow off his cape.

"I don't know what that means, and I don't really care." Prussia yanked the rabbit free and got to his feet. "Come on, we've got to get back to Opa."

"No." Austria crossed his arms over his skinny chest.

"No?" Prussia narrowed his red eyes. "It's cold, and I want breakfast."

"Too bad. I saw a berry bush over there, and I wanted to make a cake." Austria grabbed his dagger out of his brother's hands and began to walk away.

"Wait! Austria! Come back!" Prussia made a wild lunge for his woolen cape. He overshot a little, and they both went crashing into the snow.

"Hey!" Austria shoved at him weakly. Prussia smiled apologetically, hauling him up by his hood. "You insolent scum! I cannot believe-"

"Shut up, we're going home." Prussia gave him a quick punch to the arm to silence his protests as he dragged him back towards camp.

Germania tapped his fingers on his knee nervously. His two oldest boys had been gone a while now, doing a task that could have been completed in half the time they had been in the woods. It was late winter, food was becoming scarce, and some animals were probably hungry. Two little boys wandering the snowy forest would make a nice meal for some half-starved bear or wolf. Prussia might be able to fight an animal off, but Austria was hopeless, and Prussia would have to keep him safe, compromising his fighting skill.

He stood and went to the tent flap, opening it a little to be able to peer out, but not enough to let too much cold in. The frown that had begun earlier deepened. Women hauled buckets up and down the path, small children herded goats into pens, chickens darted under everyone's feet, clucking incessantly, but there was no sign of his grandsons.

He kept his cold green eyes trained on the opposite row of tents, occasionally scanning the dark treeline for Prussia's shock of white hair. Holy Rome whimpered, making Germania return to the fire, where the small child sat.

"Where are they, Opa?" For such a tiny thing, his "little king" was smart. He looked up at his grandpa with clear blue eyes, which were glassy with tears. "I want my bruders to come home." Reaching his arms into the air, he silently beckoned to be held. Germania crouched, and pulled the child into his arms, albeit awkwardly. When his son's camp was sacked and burned by the Romans, he had offered to raise his grandchildren, who had miraculously survived.

The eldest was Sweden. He sometimes forgot that Sweden was even his own, because he spent so much time with his friends, Denmark and Norway. They were part of a more northern tribe that had joined his about a year ago. Sweden was an uncommonly serious teenager, who didn't communicate very well. Until the Nordics arrived, he had looked out for his younger siblings, and they all regarded him with a mixture of fear and awe.

Prussia, the second eldest, was a strange-looking, loud child. He had white hair and skin, with blood-red eyes. The other children, and some superstitious adults, whispered that he must not be of this world; he could be a demon or some other evil thing. This didn't seem to faze him at all. In fact, he had come to the conclusion that he was unique, therefore awesome. Germania didn't really mind this, he was happy that his grandson accepted who he was.

The next, Austria, was a small, skinny boy who had beaten all the odds and was still alive. Usually, weak children didn't make it. He was always humming, making up songs that the other children would beg him to sing aloud in his clear, strong voice. Music seemed to follow him, dancing around him in a melodic way. Of course, Germania had no use for music, and he encouraged his grandson to become stronger and follow Prussia's example.

Switzerland was a moody whirlwind, lashing out at everyone and everything. His prowess with a knife was unsettling; he could hit anything he aimed at. Though he was too young to leave the camp with his older brothers, he enjoyed making toy weapons and gloating about all the Romans he would kill with them someday.

Liechtenstein was his only girl-child, and though she was little, only about five summers, she was fierce. She clung to Switzerland, strangely enough, and he protected her from the bullies around camp. She held a special place in Germania's war-hardened heart, and for her, he would slay a thousand Romans.

Holy Rome was the baby. He listened intently to the warrior's stories of battle, and promised everyone that one day, he would be just like them. When Germania had pushed aside the iron shield in his son's burning tent to reveal the children cowering there, Holy Rome had been an unnamed babe. While the other children wailed, even Sweden, the tiny blond had been silent. At first, Germania thought he was 'off,' but when he picked him up and the baby looked at him with an unsettling blue gaze, he realized that it was not stupidity that kept him quiet, but bravery.

Prussia pulled Austria along, their boots turning up deep furrows in the snow. Usually, Prussia would worry about this, they were leaving tracks that any fool could follow, but he just wanted to get home to his opa. He would never admit it, but he was afraid to be away from him for too long.

They had been out since before dawn, and now it was nearly midmorning. Prussia had long since lost feeling in his toes, and Austria's cheeks were bright red. If something were to jump out of the shadows and hurt his little brother…Prussia didn't know what he would do. His brother was weak, that was for sure, but it was his job to protect him. He had to have enough awesomeness for the both of them, and that would be hard.

"Can we take a break?" Austria whined.

"Nope. The faster we walk, the sooner we'll get there." Prussia pulled on his brother's cold hand. Austria dug his heals in, making himself a deadweight.

"But I'm cold~!"

"If we stop moving, you'll just get colder." Prussia stomped his feet a few times, trying to get the feeling back into them. He turned around to face his brother, who had that stubborn look in his eyes again.

"I'm tired. My chest hurts from breathing all this cold air. The snow is hard to walk in. My head hurts and I'm thirsty." Prussia crossed his arms, trying to disguise his shivering.

"You're probably dehydrated. The sooner we get back to Opa, the sooner you can have some water, okay? I know you're kinda unawesome, but seriously, let's go already."

"That isn't very nice! You're my big brother; you're supposed to take care of me! What will Opa say when he hears you've been mean to me? He-" Prussia cut him off by slamming into him, clamping a hand over his mouth. Austria was unprepared for this assault, so the brothers found themselves lying in a heap in the snow for the second time that morning.

Seeing that his brother was struggling to get up, Prussia rolled on top of him, and put both hands over his mouth just in case.

"Will you shut up for two seconds?" He hissed, nose to nose with him, "there's something out there!" Austria blanched, eyes going wide. "Can I trust you to keep quiet?" He nodded, as much as he could with his brother, who was at least two winters and a summer older than him, crouched on his chest.

Rolling off of him, but not standing, Prussia scanned the area. Birds tweeted innocently, and the sun sparkled off the snow. Austria highly doubted that something was lurking out there, and he was going to explain this to Prussia, when a growl echoed around them.

It seemed to come from each and every tree, every scurrying creature, and the huge expanse of blue sky above. It was the threatening moan from a pained, starving creature, which had found its saving grace in two small boys.

As fast as lightning, Prussia had grabbed Austria's hand, and was running towards the nearest tree. Austria's heavy breathing could surely be heard throughout the entire forest, but in a way it comforted Prussia. His brother was breathing, he was still alive, and Prussia was determined to keep him that way.

Prussia latched on to the lowest branch he could find, and began to pull his brother up after him. Once they were at a height that the elder found satisfactory, Prussia motioned to Austria to hold on tightly to the tree, and keep quiet.

The creature appeared over the small hill, sniffing their footprints. It was a slate gray wolf. It walked warily, back hunched, and its ribs were clearly visible. When it turned its face to smell the wind, Prussia caught a glimpse of its eyes. Instead of being yellow, like a normal wolf, this one's eyes were deep brown. Biting back a cry, Prussia thought immediately of Gitta, another gray furred, brown-eyed canine. She had been his favorite dog, back before they had come to live with Opa. She had been lost amongst the burning tents and screaming women when their camp was raided.

Prussia had had many nightmares over the last two summers he had lived with Opa. Gitta's eyes were the last thing he saw before she ran out of the tent, tail between her legs. Then his mutti's voice, telling him to be still, her soft hands wiping away his tears.

Halt dich tapfer, kleiner. Be brave, little one. Her soothing voice penetrated his thoughts even as smoke filled his lungs, and the air was rent with screams. Sweden wrapped his arms around him protectively, and his mutti secured his vati's huge battle shield over them. The only thing he had cried over that night, not understanding that his parents were gone forever, was his beloved dog.

"One of Gitta's puppies." Austria muttered, obviously following the same train of thought.

"Shh." Prussia shushed him automatically. It was no use. The wolf had heard him. It swiveled around, and Gitta's eyes found them, perched in their tree. It growled again, a low, aggressive sound that came from deep in its throat. Austria shut his eyes, praying to any gods that were listening to protect him. Prussia, who was a little farther out on the branch, scooted into him quickly, compromising his balance.

The wolf rushed the tree at almost the same instant, and Austria felt himself slipping. One leg slid over the branch, and he managed to catch hold of it with his hands. He cried out, catching a glance at Gitta's offspring, who was circling the base of the tree, snapping at his ankles.

"Prussia! Prussia! I'm falling, HELP!" Prussia had made sure they were very high in the tree. Austria's boots dangled at least twelve feet in the air. To Prussia, the world moved in slow motion. He saw Austria's weak arms give way, and he grew smaller as he fell towards the ground, his dark hair in sharp relief against the snow. Prussia felt a cry of agony leave his lips, but he didn't hear it. All he could hear was the savage growling of Gitta's puppy. Its all too familiar eyes were trained on his brother, a hunger in them where Gitta's had only held love.

Prussia felt his knife appear in his hand, and his leg muscles tensed to leap from the branch. He dove for the wolf, the wolf that as he fell towards it, slowly turned into his beloved dog. He cried out again, as he landed on the animal's back. It collapsed into the snow, weakened by hunger. He gripped the knife so hard that his fingers turned while.

He flipped Gitta over, and stared into her eyes. She stopped snarling to pant, weakly swatting at him. Prussia saw in her eyes his childhood. This dog had been the thing he held on to while he learned to walk, the one that he had played fetch with when he was sent to collect firewood. She had saved his life when he fell into the river, and had lain by his side when he was confined to bed by illness in the weeks after.

A trickle of red was slowly staining the snow to his left. He looked to find the source, the spell broken. Austria, his little brother, lay on the ground, his face as white as the snow. His head rested against a rock as if it were a pillow. He seemed already on his way to join the gods.

Prussia returned his gaze to the animal beneath him. However much he had loved Gitta, she was responsible for his brother's death, and for that he had to kill her. He held his dagger high, and went unfazed by her whimper as he dug it into her heart, killing her instantly.

The blood gushed over his hands, warm and sticky. It was a few shades darker than that which seeped in a steady stream from Austria's head. With its eyes closed, the animal turned back into nothing but a wolf. Not Gitta, no, maybe not even one of her kin. His stomach rolled, and he puked into the snow.

Recovering with shaking breaths and beginning to shiver, he made his way over to his brother. Austria lay on his side, curled up as if he were asleep. Prussia brushed his hair out of his eyes with a shaking, bloody hand. His little brother…Prussia wrapped his arms around his limp body, and lifted him out of the snow. He rested the bloody head against his chest.

"If only I hadn't made you climb that high. I should have warned you I was backing up, I should have left you with Opa…I'm so sorry…" His voice broke, and he sobbed openly, like he hadn't done since that misty, cold morning when his grandfather had lifted him out of the smoldering tent and told him that his mutti was with the gods.

"Opa?" Liechtenstein tugged at Germania's hand, jerking him away from his worries.

"Yes, Kleine?" He smiled fondly at her. She looked up at him with huge green eyes, the same color as his, but much warmer.

"Where did Austria and Prussia go?" The boy's names were like daggers of ice in his heart. He stood, and grabbed his cloak.

"I don't know, but we're going to find them."

Prussia awoke to a silent forest. It was dusk, and the trees threw strange shadows on the snow. Fresh tears rolled down his cheeks when he saw his lifeless brother. Wait, was that a breath? Yes, Austria's chest was moving. Prussia slapped him across the face, trying to get a reaction out of him. When that didn't work, he screamed his name until he was hoarse, even trying his human name, Roderich.

Finally, as a last resort, he scooped up a handful of snow, and stuck it down Austria's trousers. The reaction was immediate. Austria sat up, screaming bloody murder. Prussia felt the warmth of joy spreading through his veins, and he nearly squished his brother in exuberance. That happiness was crushed almost as soon as it came at Austria's next words.

"Bruder…I can't see! Where are you?" Austria stared blankly ahead, his hand in front of him as if he were trying to see it. Prussia gripped his face so hard that he grimaced, and waved his hand a few inches from his nose.

"I'm here, I'm here…" Austria began to sob franticly, crying for his mutti, his vati, his opa, even his big brother Sweden, whom they scarcely saw anymore.

Germania heard his name being called. He hurried through the snow, struggling to see in the dark. The youthful voice, unmistakably Austria's, pierced his heart like it pierced the cold night air. The men behind him were hushed, their torches held high, ears straining for what their nation obviously heard.

"Opa! Hilfe!" There it was again. Germania quickened his pace.

"Austria! I'm coming!" When he finally found his boys, he almost tripped over them. Prussia was even paler than usual, and he was holding his brother in such a careful matter that worried Germania.

His fears were confirmed when he hugged Prussia, and tears dampened his tunic. Prussia didn't cry. At least, not around people. Sometimes he would hear him sobbing quietly, his face buried in the furs of his bed so that no one would know. He looked to his other grandson, who hadn't even acknowledged his arrival. Something was terribly wrong. His eyes were wide open, looking somewhere over Prussia's shoulder. His big brother held him protectively.

"Austria? It's me, Opa. Look at me, son." Germania's voice rose in panic.

"Where are y-you, Opa? I- I can't s-see a-anything." He grabbed his grandson out of his brother's arms, and looked into his violet eyes. He stared blankly ahead, his pupils the size of moons. "I-it's all b-black. Is it night, Opa? I-I'm a-afraid."

"Shh, it's alright. I'm here. Nothing is going to hurt you. Can you stand?" Germania pulled Austria to his feet. The boy immediately fell forward, crying out in pain. Germania caught him. "Where does it hurt?"

"M-my head." Germania carefully felt his dark head, pausing when he touched dried and fresh blood. He began to piece things together in his mind. He had seen injuries like this on the battlefield. Soldiers struck on the head might loose their sight, either temporarily or permanently.

"Prussia, did Austria fall? What happened?" Prussia's eyes filled with never-ending tears, and he just sobbed in reply. Germania handed Austria to one of his men, and got down on his knees in front of Prussia. "Tell. Me. What. Happened." He commanded, worry making his voice harsh. The boy still couldn't speak. "TELL ME!" Germania yelled, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him.

"W-weclimbedintothetreetoescape awolfandAustriafell-." The boy was speaking so fast that his grandfather couldn't understand him.

"PRUSSIA! Take a deep breath and tell me ONCE MORE!" Prussia was nearly hyperventilating. Tears streamed down his face and he was sobbing so hard he could barely breathe.

"…Opa." A small voice behind him made him turn. Austria, in the arms of one of his warriors was crying, too. "He can tell you later, please d-don't make him cry." Germania felt a deep blush creep up his neck. He turned back to Prussia, and enveloped him in a hug. He noticed the boy was shivering badly.

"Enshuldigen Sie bitte. Come on, let's go home." He picked him up and held him close while they made their way back to camp.

Epilogue

Austria's vision became clearer every day. As soon as glasses were invented, he got a very strong pair. He is almost blind without them.

Translations:

Opa- "Grandpa"
Mutti- "Mommy"
Vati- "Daddy"
Bruder- "Brother"
Halt dich tapfer, kleiner- "Be brave, little one."
Kleine- "Little one"
Hilfe- "Help"
Enshuldigen Sie bitte- "I'm sorry"