(Author's note- Thanks for clicking on my story. Until inspiration strikes me for my Avengers one, I decided to write down the one shots my brain created at three am. This is just kinda something I'm doing in my free time, so don't expect really consistent uploads. Also each story is just a snippet of my favourite scene but if you wanna make anything into a full story, please PM me because that would be so cool. I've ranted enough. Enjoy!)

(Author's note 2- A guest has pointed out to me that this story may have some copyright problems so I am changing the name of the title and some of the content. Also just to be clear, I do not own Hetalia or Frozen. This is just a parody based on those stories. All rights go to Hideka Himaruya and Disney. Thank you to the guest that reviewed and informed me of this mistake)

Frozen

Mathias (Denmark)=Anna

Lukas (Norway)=Kristoff

Berwald (Sweden)=Elsa (Him and Mathias are half-brothers. I really like the relationship these two have and it's not explored enough)

Tino (Finland)=Prince Hans (But not evil. They kissed but it didn't work because they weren't truly in love. Mathias asked him to go tell Berwald about his death because he thought he was a lost cause)

Emil (Iceland)=Olaf (He's a castle servant that helped out Mathias after he went after Berwald)

Alfred (America)=The Duke of Weselton (Someone has to be evil in every story, he just happens to be the villain in this one, don't worry, we eventually get some Al love)

Mathias' entire world had become consumed by the cold. He was not really feeling the sensation of cold though. No, it was more like his very core was slowly being eaten by a white, bitter nothingness. Cold came from the outside, and whatever was wrong with him was an infection rooted deep within. Each step forward was fighting against the urge his body had to freeze up, to lie down and never move again.

He glanced down at his fingers, which were so numb he was barely convinced they were still there. It was a struggle to stop shivering long enough to see, and even more of a struggle to clear his pain-laced, foggy mind and actually focus on them. For a second he was panicked at the apparent frostbite that was dusting his fingertips. Why else would they be turning blue? That panic was multiplied by tenfold when he realized what was really wrong with his fingers. They were turning to ice.

A sense of dread washed over him, the fear of his own oblivion choking his thoughts. Mathias wanted to scream, cry, laugh at the irony of his inevitable fate. But all he could truly do was stand in the middle of the frozen wasteland as he waited for death.

A whisper echoed over the port, so faint and teasingly hopeful Mathias was convinced it was a dream, his minds last ditch attempt at a peaceful end. Yet it was there again. And again.

"Mathias! Mathias!"

The Danish man looked up, even that simple movement a struggle against his stiffening body. The purple-clad figure running towards him in the distance was blurred by snow and his failing mind, and somehow he was clearer than he had ever been. Mathias was sure he would have been crying if all the moisture in his eyes had not been turned to ice long ago. The gasped name that escaped his throat was louder than the roaring storm swirling around them.

"Lukas."

Almost on its own accord, Mathias stepped towards the approaching man, who he was now convinced beyond all doubt loved him. So badly did he want to run forward, to kiss Lukas and never let go, to live beyond the frozen tomb that had now spread up his hands and was picking up speed.

But he couldn't. Because in the corner of his vision he saw Berwald kneeling on the ground sobbing, heartbroken and prone to attack after Tino had told him that his brother had died. And Mathias knew that up in the tower the Duke of America was sitting with his crossbow out, ready to kill the "monster" and be the hero. By then Lukas was seconds away. But it was seconds too late. Looking one last time at the sorcerer who had captured his heart, who was supposed to be his act of true love, Mathias turned his back on Lukas and walked towards his half-brother.

It was not calm that befell the storm after Berwald had collapsed on his knees. It was more like the storm was waiting for the right moment, for the king to break again to come back stronger than ever. It was not as though Berwald noticed all this. All he could see was his brother. His brother laughing and twirling in the snow, his brother calling innocently out to him through the locked door, his brother dancing like the drunken dork he was at the coronation, his brother lying dead, cold as ice at Berwald's hands. Every fight they'd ever had, every blow they'd ever exchanged, every one of the millions of regrets he had transformed into broken sobs he couldn't hold back.

He was made aware of his surroundings when Tino screamed, "King Berwald, look out!" Looking up, it was too late for him to see the arrow headed straight for his heart. Tino moved forward in an attempt to save him, but someone had beat him to it.

Initially Berwald didn't know who his self sacrificing saviour was. All he saw was a blur of pure clear ice and heard the clang as the broken arrow hit the floor. With bated breath Berwald looked up to see what had intercepted the fatal attack, and he immediately felt pain worse than a thousand arrows could procure. As the final breath was exhaled from the now lifeless statue, a million horrendous thoughts ran through Berwald's head, but only one word could escape.

"Mathias." It was not a scream, not aggressive, not angry. It was not a question of the reality of the situation. It was not an attempt to see if his brother was really alive. It was merely the only thing Berwald could think of. The fragile image before him, his brother a frozen statue, his once vibrant blue eyes a lifeless grave.

Berwald stood up, and turned to face his brother's front. When he reached forward to touch Mathias' cheek and felt the cold that had never bothered him before, it was like a dam being broken. He fell forward, dragged down by the pain he had once tried to conceal but now demanded to be felt. Berwald hugged his brother tight, the wrongness of the situation overwhelming. Someone like Mathias should never be cold, never still, never a source of sadness. It was against everything he had ever stood for. It made Berwald's cries that much louder.

A crowd had made its way around the moment of grief. Tino was gasping for breathe between sobs, each tear dripping down his face in a steady beat. Emil, who had finally made his way out of the frozen deathtrap that was the castle, was sitting on the ground softly weeping and whimpering Mathias' name over and over again. The worst was Mathias'...friend who Berwald remembered his brother had called Lukas. The quiet, rational boy was screaming, piercing the quiet atmosphere with howls made not of words, but instead the shattering of someone's heart. Berwald noticed it all, adding to the misery that his brother, who was so universally loved and admired, was gone, and he still remained.

Unexpectedly everyone in the group gasped but in all his grief Berwald didn't notice until the once solid mass of ice he was clinging onto became a soft black and red coat, and the heartbreaking silence was replaced by shuttering gasps of relief by Mathias, who was alive again and smiling brightly at everyone around him through barely concealed tears.

There was no pause. The effect was instant. Emil was already tackling Mathias in a furious hug, screaming, "Don't you ever do that shit to me again! I thought you died! Oh my god, you're alive!" as Mathias patted his back in an attempt to be comforting.

Next up was Tino, who gave Mathias a friendly hug before wiping off his tears and saying, "I'm glad you're okay Mathias, but if you'll excuse me, I have an American to...talk to." He then left to exact whatever fiery vengeance the Finnish man deemed necessary.

Lukas then walked forward, slowly, as if worried that Mathias would turn to ice again. When they locked eyes, Mathias quickly flashed his signature cocky smile that couldn't conceal the adoration in his gaze. "So… I thought you said you didn't love m-"

Mathias never got to finish the word before Lukas had grabbed him by the collar and began kissing him. When they broke apart, their foreheads touching lightly with both of them out of breath, all Lukas whispered was, "Shut up, idiot."

Finally Mathias looked away and noticed Berwald standing nervously to the side. The Swedish man had a thousand things he wanted to say, but the first one was the most important. "How?"

Stepping around Lukas, the Dane gave a small smile at Berwald's obvious confusion. Suddenly Mathias lunged forward and hugged his family for the first time in decades as brothers. He laughed lightly and murmured directly into Berwald's ear, "True love. Family love counts, I guess… You actually love me."

And for the first time in a long time, Berwald showed his brother, his greatest obstacle and strongest motivation in his life, outwards affection and hugged back. The cold outer layer he had maintained for so long broke, as both tears and laughter made its way to the frozen summer day, but as they say somethings are made to be broken.