Synopsis: Sweden was an odd man and an even stranger nation, so what possible reason could Finland have for following him across this barren wasteland besides the hope of finding something more? He was sure it was out there somewhere.
Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete.
Note: This piece is my entry for a challenge issued by Fanime Sensei Strikes Back for the Hetalia Romance challenge. Now I have to go and read the other entries in order to cast my vote…
http : / www . fanfiction . net / forum / Hetalia _ Romance _ Story _ Writing _ Contest / 108090 /
In Search of Something More
Finland hurried after the figure in the distance and tried to ignore the tremulous thoughts screaming through his mind.
… It was difficult.
His boots crunched over the shale and barren patches of discoloured moss and miniscule flowers. The sea was smudged and almost charcoal in the bitter temperatures and the sea foam was silver. It washed against the coarse sand and brought driftwood to rest on the shores.
He stumbled on some loose shale and the figure paused, waiting for him to regain his balance before starting again. He never turned around or glanced behind him but it seemed that he was more than aware of where Finland was at all times.
He was not used to the attention; he was used to being on his own. He was used to being alone.
Sweden was an odd man, to be sure, and an even stranger nation. He never said much and what little passed his lips seldom made sense. He frowned when Finland wanted to laugh and he scowled when Finland wanted to smile. The two of them were discouraging opposites despite the fact that their countries cradled the same sea.
So, what possible reason could he have for following him now?
Finland snorted.
To be honest, he had no clue.
There was no reason for the cheerful, quiet nation to be following this blunt, inscrutable enigma besides the fact that he had offered an escape from a hopeless situation. Sweden had held out his hand and Finland decided to place his trust in him.
He was searching for something more, because he was so sure that there must be more, and he had left with the other nation on a mere wish and the promise of adventure.
It might have been a reckless decision but here he was and there was no turning back now.
He slipped on the stones again, and again, Sweden paused. He waited until Finland hurried up beside him before continuing down the trail. He rested one of his hands on top of his head in an unusual, comforting gesture and Finland almost tripped again in surprise.
Finland huddled further into the folds of his furs and cape. He tried to warm his fingers against the heat of the fire but it was a fruitless endeavour. He peeked through the flames to stare at the other nation.
Sweden was sitting with his legs crossed as he sharpened the edge of his mammen axe against a whetstone. His own weapon was sitting next to him. Finland listened to the comforting scratching of stone against metal and the crackling of the fire and studied the other man. His clothes were similar to his own except for subtle differences in braided cloth and decorative pins. His hair was hacked and mussed and Finland suspected that he used his knife to cut handfuls at a time. His eyes were narrowed as he paid careful attention to his axe but Finland was sure that he was watching him too.
He breathed on his fingers.
The two of them had not said much to each other since this adventure had started. In fact, Finland was terrified of the other man and his handful of attempts to start a conversation had tapered off until the one sound between them was the whistling of the wind.
It was too bad.
As a northern nation, Finland did not have much choice in terms of companionship. His neighbouring countries were not the most sociable or pleasant of national representatives. He wanted someone to speak with, and spend time with, but he supposed Sweden was not up to the task despite rescuing him.
Oh, well.
Finland scooted closer to the fire and wondered where they were. It was colder than it should have been, so he supposed they had travelled to the northernmost tip of the kingdom.
Sweden paused in sharpening his axe.
"Are y' c'ld?"
Finland jumped. Sweden had not spoken to him in over a week and he now realized how much he had missed the sound of another voice.
"Ah, I, no, I… No, I am fine."
Sweden quirked his eyebrows and studied him. Finland shifted under the weight of his stare. He pushed a short breath of air through his nose, perhaps his version of laughter, and settled his axe on the dirt.
"Y' are c'ld." It was not a question this time.
Sweden stood up and walked around the fire to stand over Finland. He stared down at him for a moment before opening his cape and sitting down next to him. He wrapped his furs around Finland and tucked the slight nation under his arm.
Finland spluttered and tried to slip out but Sweden kept his arm across his shoulders and his hand against his chest.
"I, ah, I…"
"St'y."
"No, I…"
"St'y." Again, it was not a question; it was a soft spoken demand or perhaps it was even a plea. Finland ducked his head in acknowledgment.
"Yes, alright, thank you."
Finland wanted to push him off and pretend that he was not freezing, but he was, and Sweden knew it. There was no point in suffering to assuage his pride.
And…
He waswarm.
Finland cuddled next to him to watch the fire and listen to the steady beat, beat, beat of his heart. He was surprised to find that the sound was just as comforting as the sound of sharpening an axe had been minutes beforehand.
Finland cracked open his eyes to see the dying embers of the fire glow red and orange in the darkness of twilight and a new moon.
He must have fallen asleep.
He tried to sit up but there was a weight across his waist that held him in place against the dirt. He frowned and glanced down to follow the cloth and curve of another person.
Sweden was curled around him with his arm wrapped around his waist and his chin tucked on top of his head. Finland could hear the soft breathing of someone far gone and dreaming of the gods. He tried to shift but Sweden mumbled something and tightened his grasp.
Finland wanted to laugh.
So he did.
He was still terrified of the other nation, he was sure that he always would be, but it was a relief to see the more 'human' side to him. It was almost sweet.
Finland covered his mouth to muffle the sound but he knew the moment that Sweden woke up and stiffened beside him.
"… Wh't is it?"
"Nothing!" His voice was strangled as he tried to quiet his laughter. "Nothing at all! I'm just… No, it's nothing."
Sweden cradled him closer instead of letting go and Finland let him.
"Y' are v'ry str'nge."
"So are you."
Finland could feel him shrug where their bodies touched; he could feel the muscles move beneath his clothes just as he could he hear his heart beat, beat, beat.
His laughter trailed off and he settled into the crook of his body and marvelled at how well the two of them seemed to fit together, just as the landmasses they represented seemed meant to fit together. He felt his eyes closing.
He had left on a reckless search for something more; on a wish, on a promise, on a dream, and maybe, just maybe, he had found it here in the arms of this strange, confusing man.
Sweden whispered something against his ear but he was already asleep.
Author's Notes:
Sometimes what you are looking for is closer than you thought.
This piece occurs during the First Swedish Crusade (1150), although it is a matter of academic debate whether this crusade occurred or not. There is no archaeological evidence besides persisting legends.
The axe mentioned here, the Mammen Axe, was a common weapon during the Age of the Vikings. Please notice that Finland also carried a weapon; to be without a weapon would have been inconceivable. That is the reason he finds the sound of sharpening an axe so comforting. It would mean safety and protection.
I am unused to writing these characters (duh) but that is one of the reasons I joined this challenge in the first place. I started writing one piece, abandoned it, wrote another piece and stopped in the middle, and then returned to the first piece. Ugh. I wanted to write one of their earlier meetings and offer a reason for Finland to follow someone who terrified him. It came down to him taking a chance on the other nation. I would consider this a romance, or at least, the beginning of one.
P.S. I just 'finished' moving, if by finished you mean 'my apartment is full of boxes and my fish are in a bucket'. That is where I have been. I should have more chances to write now that I can lock my door and keep out interlopers. … Damn interlopers…
Please leave a review and feel free to offer opinions, advice, or criticism. All are welcome. You are free to leave an anonymous review; I do not mind. Please just let me know what you think of this piece.
