The night was so cold.
As Finland laid there, sprawled out in the once white, now red snow, he couldn't help but reminisce about old times. Time passed and the white flakes began to fly down in a quicker frenzy, coating his body in a fine layer.
His enemies had butchered all his troops and left him in the unforgiving cold to die alone. He was in the middle of nowhere, and could feel the life inside him slowly seeping out. At least he would be dying in his beloved homeland and not in foreign Russia, where he remembered wishing death upon himself several times while living at the Sunflower Bastard's house.
He stopped that thought short.
Now was not the time to be thinking angry thoughts. He did not want to become an angry spirit in the afterlife.
Maybe he would be going to Tuolena, the Finnish equivalent to the underworld. Tino shuddered to himself; the city of the forever sleeping did not appeal to him.
Maybe he would be going to Valhalla, the much livelier and appealing version of heaven from Norse mythology. He began to dream about the vast halls, never ending feasts and upbeat music. However, no matter how happy he imagined himself, it just didn't seem right. Something important was missing from his seemingly ideal paradise, something that made him very happy. But what was he missing from this place that seemed to have everything?
No, he was not forgetting something. He was forgetting someone.
Sweden.
It seemed like the cold was finally starting to numb his thoughts. How could he forget Sweden? He had forgotten his only constant companion throughout the long centuries. Finland had forgotten the single most important person in his life.
Even though Tino should have been long passed the point of being able to, he began to cry.
The hot tears melted the thin layer of frost across his face, leaving stinging trails along their path.
He was crying from frustration, from not being to spend forever with him, even though he had promised he would.
He remembered was Berwald who had told him vivid fables about Valhalla, which was the stark parallel to what his people thought was the afterlife. Valhalla was where only the strong and brave passed on to, much like the Gardens of Idris Greece would always talk about. Those who went to Valhalla were rewarded with everlasting banquets and eternal paradise as reward from their contribution on earth.
Tuolena was best described as the darkness of an eternal, dreamless slumber. According to his people, it was where all the deceased went. The cold, dark underground city did not differentiate between good or bad because all who were there would never wake up from their sleep.
All of a sudden, he felt a sharp, agonizing pain tear through his side. Finland found himself cursing the fact that he was a nation. His death was being dragged out far longer than it would have been for a normal human.
But it was also a sort of blessing; his slow but sort of numb death was giving him the time to look over the happy memories one last time.
He started going through his childhood. The rough days of his toddler years were over shadowed by the one moment he met the others just like him. He was so overjoyed to make new friends, quickly becoming best friends with Estonia and moving into Denmark's house.
It was also during that time he met Sweden. The already large and imposing nation, even though he was only in his early youth, Tino couldn't help but feel intimidated and small in his presence. Although Berwald was scary looking, Tino knew that he wasn't a bad person. It was just a little difficult to get past his scary demeanor at times.
Then they started becoming close, and eventually, the two became joined together as one kingdom.
Tino managed to smile warmly, as those were the glory days. Berwald, being a gifted builder, had built them both a warm, cozy cabin on the present day border between the two countries. There they spent their best days, which usually consisted of Sweden tending to the fire, while Finland was reading next to the fire. Although it would have seemed boring and domestic to most, he believed this was when they were happiest, stealing kisses from each other, isolated from the annoying worlds concerns.
However, that could not have lasted for forever.
Just like his best days were spent with Berwald, his worst were spent with Ivan.
Both men were tall, but the similarities ended there. With Sweden, smiles were earned and made Tino feel accomplished when he could make the other break his mask. The slightest curve of his lips managed to light up the face of the normally scary looking Swede. With Russia, his smile was permanently plastered on his face, as creepy and fake as his personality was. Finland's insides ached just thinking about the Finnish Famine, which would have never happened if he had been with Sweden. His sweet, perfect lover.
Then freedom followed afterwards, like the first rain after a drought. He was free to see Berwald face-to-face again after the long period of smuggled letters covered with tears and smothered in sadness.
The first place they visited was the cabin. It was still there, in perfect condition after all this time. It seemed that Berwald had taking care of the place, even after this long, in anticipation for his beloved Tino's return. There, after such a long period of suffering, he could finally throw his fears away and return to the happiness before all of this.
His thoughts began to drift away at that point, making concentrating very hard. It seemed like the time to leave was here.
Oh, where was Berwald now? Finland thought to himself. He never should have never gone off by himself to fight this stupid war. He should have been by Sweden's side to help him instead of running off by himself like a naïve child.
The ground began to rumble and a bright light, like a headlight shone on him. A door slammed and feet frantically crunched into the snow.
Tino did not care as his vision began darkening, and in his last moments. He thought about what he would give to see Berwald one last time. To tell him he was sorry and that he loved him.
It was time to leave for Valhalla.
Right before his eyes closed shut, Tino swore he could see a glimmer of golden blond hair and a familiar pair of crystal-clear turquoise eye rimmed in thin frames.
"Tino! D'n't leave, pls'!" The last few words came out as a choked out sob. His body was engulfed in a warm embrace, slightly melting off the cold that clung onto his skin.
His vision turned to black as he felt hot lips press against his forehead and burning drops of water hitting his face.
Tino smiled to himself. What a nice way to go, a perfect hallucination of the one he wanted to be here, holding him as he left this world.
The soft angelic smile stayed on his face as his once soft, violet eyes frosted over.