Hallo, readers of the yumminess that is SuFin~

Just wanted to start off saying that I adore this couple and this is my first fic in about two years. So I have improved alot ALOT.

This is my very first Hetalia fic, though. I'm a little nervous about writing it. I'll try to keep everyone in character.

This is dedicated to m'forum wife, Ninna 3 We both love this pairing so much. I just had to write this.

Told in Finland's POV.

Enjoy~

Chapter One: the Delicate Flower

How could this happen to me? And why am I wondering that so much lately? The world is after all a harsh cruelty in itself. I know I would always be at the mercy of my captors until I'm strong enough to get enough power to withstand it. Since I was pillaged and defeated by Sweden and Denmark, my life has been controlled and limited. I'm really unsure if I'll ever get out of their grasp, not to mention my fears of the obvious dark future with them. They're all so strong and scary. If one would let me free, the other three Nordics would most likely pick me apart. I mean…I'm a part of the Kalmar Union, too, but I feel I'm the weakest and will be divided between them sooner or later. Even when I was small, I knew my life as a nation wouldn't be easy, but lately I've been more frustrated with it.

What I hate most is when Sweden and Denmark argue over who owns me. They're both really strong and frightening. But Denmark is just better at getting his wrath across. Sweden is more…complicated. I think if I had to choose who to be loyal to, I would pick Denmark. He would probably protect me better in war. Sweden, I'm not so sure. A part of me feels that I would be given up for a treaty's sake or something by Sweden; with Denmark, well, I think he's too greedy to let anything go that is his.

Everyone picks on me, too. As I pulled on my boots that momentous day, Iceland flicked paper balls at me. Well, I guess Sweden doesn't torture me like the others. I don't have any Viking blood running through my veins; there's no way I can tangle with one of them and be assertive. I'm more sensitive, always have been.

"Sve, go get some wood to put on the fire," Denmark ordered as he sat at the long table in the dining area. He had a tall mug of alcohol again; he's always so scary when he drinks. I glanced at Sweden, who was scraping a block of wood with his knife at the other side of the room. I was semi-shocked to notice him leaning on the wall nonchalantly ignoring our ruler…again. Shudders even jerked up my spine as Denmark slammed his booted feet onto the table. "Sve!" he shouted with a low pitched tone.

As his voice echoed off the stone walls, Sweden spoke in his usual drone tone, not blinking at the recent slam of soles to wood, "get it yerself."

I could feel tension rise as Norway and Iceland froze. Iceland was more prone to halt his actions to avoid confrontation, but when Norway paused as well…I began to make sure I knew the exit again.

Denmark stood abruptly. His fist bringing down his mug shattered it against the table. "Get it!" he shouted again.

Denmark was notorious for his temper, especially an intoxicated one. I never crossed him for fear of what he would do to me. I think everyone was a little weary of him, except for Sweden. Actually, to be fair to Denmark's anger, Sweden had been very rebellious for a while now. I didn't understand it completely, but Sweden would be an insurgent every chance he got. Even little things like getting wood were out of the question for him. My eyes cut in the direction of Sweden; he still didn't mind our ruler. His straight eyes focused on what they wanted to; his hard-headedness was rising again. I envied him in situations such as that. I wanted so badly to stand up for myself, but my knees always locked and sent me to the floor bowing.

"Finland!" Denmark snapped angrily.

I was caught off guard and flinched at his tone towards me. I could feel myself cower and back away at the sight of his hard eyes on me. "Wh-" I began timidly.

"Get the wood," he told me with a stern frown.

All I could notice in that moment was Sweden's eyes on me. As I turned for the door, I caught a glimpse of Sweden's expression, as if he was telling me, "Stand up to him, too." And I so severely wanted to; I was just way too scared to. I didn't know if I would have back up if I did it. Would Sweden back me up?

My thoughts left me as I hastily rushed outside to fetch the wood to give our family some warmth. I didn't have time to slip on my coat, so I tried to be quick about it. I jogged to the wood pile and gathered as many pieces as I could. As soon as my arms were full, I jogged back to the door and pushed my body against it, but it didn't open. I carefully, slowly reached for the handle, but a few pieces of chopped wood tumbled out of my grasp. I sighed, leaning over to pick them up, but I hear something that took away my shallow breath.

Let me just say that this is SOMEWHAT historically accurate. I do research some, but I won't break my back researching. I don't know any Nordics, so I can't ask them. Please be gentle. lol.

Leave meh a lil review if you wish~