Disclaimer: Hetalia does not belong to me.

Chapter 1

It had been a long day. A long, long, long day and all he had really wanted was a drink; a nice, warm beer in his favorite pub to help him relax and thaw away the winter cold. But no. The pub owner had decided to be a total jackass and throw him out. So maybe he had been a little drunk, but it was only a little bit. The albino German that had been sitting next to him was so drunk that the only word he would say was "awesome", and he didn't get kicked out. He also didn't call the owner an asshole in every language he knew or chucked his cellphone at him when he said he had enough.

Ok, so maybe Matthias had gone a little overboard. Today was just one of those days, so he had every right to be a little ticked when his alcohol was taken from him. And that asshole owner kicked him out. Him! A fine, well-paying costumer, who had regularly visited the little pub, was now forced into the snow like some old mutt. If that was how the pub was going that treat their customers, then they really didn't deserve Matthias's awesomeness anyway. He would make them ever regret kicking him out. Yes, he would… … … he just didn't know how yet.

Matthias grumbled as he walked. He pulled his clothes tighter against his body to conserve heat, but they were too light, made for fashion and not the deep cold of the Danish winter at night. Even his signature black coat, which was his heaviest layer and had seen many a Danish night, wasn't keeping out the chill or staving off the snow.

"Damn the cold." He muttered through chattering teeth. "Damn that pub. Damn that asshole owner." He lifted his head, smiled to the sky and flipped it off. "Damn everything!"

The cold must have taken offense from being told to go to hell because Matthias could have sworn the temperature dropped by about 10 degrees. He groaned and rubbed his eyes. The alcohol was causing the edges of his vision to swim and all he could make out was the brown bark of the trees against the whiteness of the snow.

He stumbled forward and gravity began to take him until he desperately grabbed a trunk of a tree nearby. His breaths were uneven and shaky and his head felt like it had been put in a blender. Alcohol fought for control of body and threatened to make him go unconscious.

Matthias shook his head and kept trudging on. His feet felt like they had cinder blocks attached to them and the snow kept tripping him up. Every 10 or so minutes, the dizziness that invaded his mind forced him to pause and breathe

"Where the hell did I leave my car?" he growled and stopped. Snow was everywhere, coating each surface in pristine white, and making every thing look the same. There was no way he was going to find his way through the forest, even his drunken mind could tell that.

He sighed then reached into his pocket for his cell phone. He dug in each one for the cell, but every time they turned up empty.

"Where…" Then he realized that it was back at the pub because he had thrown it at that asshole owner.

He turned around and searched for the light of the pub that would lead him back to civilization. Fear gently began to creep into the back of his mind as he realized that the light was nowhere to be found. He whipped his head to the left and the right turning to find some sign of human life. All he saw was the clawing branches of the trees against snow and ice.

His mind began to race as full-blown panic over took his drunkenness. He could see the next day's newspaper, declaring him a missing person. He could see, his cousins' faces overcome with grief when they learned that he was gone. He imagined his own body getting picked apart by wild animals as it lay in the snow, waiting for some lonely hiker to find it frozen in three years.

No! He couldn't let that happen. He just couldn't. He would find his way back to the pub. He would call Berwald to come pick him up, and laugh about the whole situation with Tino over a mug of hot chocolate. That's what he would do.

Matthias looked at the direction he came from and prayed that it would lead him back. As he walked, the sky grew darker and the air grew colder. The powdery snowfall that had just barely been sprinkling was evolving into a raging snowstorm. The wind tore at his clothes and the cold leaked through his skin, freezing him to the bone.

He kept walking, forcing his legs to move. His breaths were getting shorter and he could begin to feel his blood freezing. What little strength he had left buckled and he came crashing down to his knees. He wanted to scream, wanted to cry, wanted to yell for help until his lungs were raw, but the only sound that left his throat as a small whimper. He hauled his body to a tree and curled against it, trying to conserve the little bit of warmth he still had.

Matthias never thought he would die like this. He wasn't one to even think about death, but when he did he imagined himself having a hero's death, full of drama and fanfare. He wanted himself to die strong, fighting, kicking, laughing at death in the face.

A quiet death scared the shit out of him. He didn't want to think of himself weakened and fading from people's memories. Thinking that one-day they would forget him completely, now that was enough to keep him awake at night. With a dramatic death, people would remember his valor or maybe even his recklessness. The important part was that they'd remember. With a quiet death, however, people would pity him and think of how far he had fallen. Then, eventually, they would just forget.

A tear slipped down his face and froze against his cheek. He couldn't help it, and he weakly chuckled to himself. He was a drunk crying mess, after all. He curled tighter into himself, and felt exhaustion begin to roll over him in waves. As his eyes grew droopy, panic festered in the back of his mind. Don't close your eyes it screamed If you fall asleep now, you won't ever wake up!

He pushed those thoughts aside. He just wasn't going to make it out of this one. Slowly, he lifted his eyes one more time to take one more look at the world. The earth was white and pure; it was hard to believe something so innocuous looking like snow could kill him. The snowfall had covered his steps and made the forest floor look flawless and untouched. The dark wood of the tree bark deeply contrasted with the purity of the snow, black against white, opposite perfections

"Well," his voice was soft and exhausted "at least it's a nice place to die." He was about to close his eyes, even though he knew that he'd never open them again. Sleep was just too inviting, too warm and nice to pass up. Suddenly there was a quick movement and sleep's temptation shattered.

Immediately , his head snapped up and adrenaline pumped back into his veins. Thoughts about wolves and bears and tigers and getting eaten crowded his head. Panic rammed against his skull and screeched in his ears. Desperately, his eyes scanned the trees for whatever was going to eat him. Until he saw him.

All Matthias could really see was his outline; slim and light, draped in a heavy dark-colored coat that stood out against the snow. Half of his body was hidden behind a tree like he was peering curiously at Matthias and he stood as still as a statue.

"Hey," Matthias croaked, then he took a moment to find his voice. "Please, could you help me?" He sounded pitiful, like a kicked puppy, but this man was his only hope of surviving.

The man carefully took a step forward towards Matthias. He almost glided across the snow, each footstep was so soft that it was like he was walking on glass. As he came closer the wind didn't seem to roar so much and the snowfall became a gentler sprinkle. Without the snow flurrying, Matthias could easily see his savior.

The man was smaller than him and moved like water, like a ballet dancer, like a bird about to take flight. The thick black coat seemed to swallow the lithe body, and the hood, lined with white fur, covered the man's face keeping it away from prying eyes. The man stopped about ten feet from him and froze again as if he was expecting something.

Matthias couldn't help but stare. The man was breathtaking, even when his body was covered in heavy fur. His movements portrayed beauty and flowed together, a river of elegance in simple footsteps. Matthias was absolutely transfixed, completely forgetting about the cold and his eminent death. Slowly, he pushed himself up and rose on shaky legs.

Immediately, the man tensed and moved a foot back.

Matthias gently raised a hand. "Please, I won't hurt you." He spoke softly, trying to keep the man from fleeing. He felt like he was talking to an animal, a creature that would escape and never be seen again.

The person didn't move and Matthias searched to meet his eyes, but the hood still blocked his gaze. He slowly took a step forward and the man remained still.

"Please" he said, "can you help me?"

The man stood for another minute before bolting towards the woods.

"Hey!" Matthias shouted and took off after the man. He ran, dodging trees and feeling warmth seep back into his arms and legs. The man always stayed a few paces ahead of him, but never let him fall to far behind. If Matthias stopped, the figure would too, looking back at him and waiting for Matthias to give chase again.

"Where are we going?" Matthias yelled, the cold wind pricking against the back of his throat. The figure paused on top of a small slope and swept a finger forward in the direction they were heading. Matthias resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Of course, he knew that they were going that way, but to where?

Matthias trudged his way up to the man and he was surprised when the man didn't flee. When he was almost right beside him, he finally saw their destination.

It was a small cabin, built completely of wood except for a stone fireplace that snaked its way up one of the sides. It only looked big enough for one or two people, but right now that would suit Matthias fine.

His companion walked forward and began leading Matthias up towards the cabin. He silently hoped that they weren't breaking and entering, but his savior didn't seem like someone who would force his way into a place. The man went into the house and paused waiting for Matthias to come inside.

The cabin only had one room, he realized. There was a fireplace in the corner, already filled with flames as if it had been expecting company. The flames danced for Matthias, greeting him with warmth and the smell of crisp pine. The light from the fireplace cast across the room, bathing everything in a slow yellow glow, and throwing shadows in strange places. Across from the fire was a forest green sofa that was worn, but well-loved, twinkling in the firelight. In the corner of the room, was a small wooden table complete with carved wooden chairs that fit neatly together. On the table was a lone green candle whose tiny flame burned innocently. The place felt strange, foreign, but entirely inviting.

Matthias turned to his host, only to see the man about to run off into the forest again.

"Wait!" he shouted and grabbed the man's wrist. The wrist was delicate in his hands and he could have probably broken it with a tight squeeze or a strong twist. As soon as he was touched, the man whipped his head back, causing his hood to fall away from his face.

It was like he was staring into the Northern sky itself, a dark blue canvas that possessed deadly beauty. The man's eyes captured Matthias and held him hypnotized. They weren't like anything he had ever seen before or would ever see again. His eyes were two captured gems kept hidden by long, pale, dusty lashes that brushed against his cheek when he blinked. They were wide and open with the shock of being grabbed, a slight panic hidden in their depths. He couldn't look away though. Those eyes were so visceral and promised secrets that had long been swept away with the passing of time. His hair was a light blond, a faint gold that had been kissed by the cold, and it curled ever so slight, framing his face.

There was something off, though. Something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. He felt it when he first saw the figure, and when he entered the cabin and now looking into the man's eyes. Everything, it was just too beautiful, a pretty sheen to create an illusion. He felt fear trickle down his back and settle itself in the pit of his stomach. The man was too striking. The house was too convenient. The situation was too whimsical. Things didn't happen like this, people didn't emerge from the woods except in storybooks and usually if they emerged they weren't…

Matthias's mind raced ahead to the stories that he had been told as a young child growing up in Odense. Fairy tale creatures gathered in his mind, until suddenly the words tumbled out of his mouth.

"What are you?"

A/N: Hello everyone! Thank you for reading. This is my winter fiction for this year and a sort of Christmas present to ya'll, so I hope you enjoy it. The next chapter is going to be up in a few days. I already have it written, so there won't be much delay on it.

Please Review! ^_^

Keep Writing,

Silver