A/N: Well. I hope you all like this, first of all, this story has two authors, myself, and my best friend. However I'm the one with the fanfiction account. So I will warn you all ahead of time this is a heavily OC story. We use our OCs a lot. However we try to keep it nice and it does use Hetalia characters. Obviously. We want to thank you for reading, if you have criticism then feel free to leave us a message or review. However if you flame us, we'll ignore you, because frankly we don't care. This is for FUN. This is the first installment of the first 'book'. This story is long and grueling and gruesome. This is the first of two. Please enjoy! I'm not one to leave a bunch of A/N's so this will probably be the only one. Also, I hate repeating myself. So this goes for the entire story: I DON'T OWN HETALIA if I did the Nordics would be shown a lot more in viking form and kicking some serious ass. The only thing I own are my OCs and my friend owns her OCs. WARNING: Blood. Rape. Swearing. Emotional trauma. :)
Prologue: The First Lion
A tall man with blonde hair trailing down his back with a braid on the right side of his face stood on the docks in front of a long viking ship with blue and gold sails. Sparkling cerulean eyes gleamed down to the little girl clinging to his legs. A lion pelt cape fell down around his shoulders clasped in place by a golden lion shaped brooch. Leather armor covered his torso, and at his hip swung a sword, fine and strong with a lions roaring maw on the handle. The man knelt down and rested a large hand on the little girls blonde head.
The little girl could be no older than seven summers, her fair blonde hair braided down her back, a style meant for warriors, for vikings. Her blue eyes looked up at the man glistening with tears. A light blue dress hugged her little body close with fur boots and a belt of golden roaring lions around her slim waist.
"I will return my sweet. Do not worry for your far." The man stroked his daughters hair gently with his large calloused hands.
Lips trembling and eyes swimming with tears the little girl nodded.
"I know far… but you have to promise me you will."
The man let out a deep throaty chuckle nodding picking her up and hugging her close.
"I promise dotter. Do you doubt me?" He looked at his daughter, his face gentle and teasing.
She shook her head wildly burying her face in his cape little fists gripping his shirt tightly.
"Nej far! I don't doubt you."
The man smiled and nodded setting her back down.
"I will return. Until then you are the Lion here. Take care of your nanny." The man stood and began walking towards his ship, his crew grinning, eager to begin their pillaging season.
The little girl watched as her father took command biting her lip fists clenched tightly. She waved vigorously as the ship began sailing away. Her nanny walking up behind her leaving her be.
On the ship the man turned back and smiled at the little figure waving to him lifting his sword in salute to her.
The little girl beamed watching her father's ship disappear over the horizon.
The man on board sighed and turned to the sea. "Gods be good, protect my little girl… Protect my Valkyrie."
On the dock the little girl, Valkyrie, turned slowly to her nanny.
"Tomorrow I want to practice with my mace."
The nanny frowned down at the willful little girl.
"That is not lady like. You should be more concerned about sewing and learning about keeping a household-"
The little girl glared at her, fierce blue eyes glinting.
"Nej. I will live up to my namesake. I will never be a housewife. I will be a Valkyrie. A lion must know how to roar and kill. And I am a Lion. Tomorrow I practice my mace with the other boys learning to fight." She left no room for argument, walking towards the house with purpose.
The nanny tittered and followed scolding her the whole way.
The little girl fought with the other boys, soon overpowering them. The seasons passed but the man and his ship never returned. The little girl grew older and taller and more fair. With lovely blonde hair and enchanting blue eyes. The men in the village asked for her hand and followed her trying to win her favor, her attention. But the girl, a woman now, paid them all no mind. She practised with her weapons, beating all the men who sought her into the mud. She became a fierce warrior. A viking at heart and mind and body.
Yet every day when the sun began to set she would go to the docks, waiting for the father that would never return. She wore a cape of lion pelts, and a gold belt of roaring lions around her waist. Leather armor on her torso and her mace always at her side. Her hair fair and gold, like the rays of the sun spun themselves onto her head, was always braided in a warriors fashion.
Her nanny, now old and withered stood behind her.
"You are sixteen Valkyrie. You must find a husband."
The woman turned and glared, her blue eyes strong and proud, her chin lifted.
"Nej. I will only wed a man who can best me in battle. None I have met can do that. Therefore none shall share my bed. I shall not speak of this again."
The nanny sighed exasperated with her charge but said no more.
At sixteen years old, Valkyrie Oxenstierna was a strong independant woman. Desired by many men. Yet the town gossip. Her mother was a whore. A lowly prostitute in a brothel her father, the proud viking lord, had frequented. None dared call her a bastard, for her father had claimed her as his sole heir. But with his assumed death, they gossiped amongst themselves. A whore's child. An oddity of women. Fighting and wrestling like a pig rather than settling down and passing along her father's title to another man. Sixteen and unwed.
Their gossiping made her stronger. She ignored their words, using them as armor against the world.
She looked out into the sea.
"I swear before the gods… I will have my own crew and ship. And I will find you far… I do not believe you are dead. You promised you would return."
Valkyrie turned and headed toward her home.
Pillaging season was coming again. And vikings would be roaming the seas looking for villages to plunder, women to rape, and men to kill.