A/N: Welcome to Conditional! :D I'm really excited for this fic and I'll try to keep it updated on a regular.
Disclaimer: Hetalia - Axis Powers and all things affiliated with the anime belong to FUNimation. All I own is the plot line.
Tino Vainamoinen was at a loss.
It had officially been 5 days since the 22nd , the Decree, and the realization. He was free, finally standing alone on his own two feet in his own home; there was no one to report to, no one to cower in fear from.
It was odd, he thought while dressing, to be his own nation at last. He trudged down the long wooden hall of his one story to the kitchen, slippers shuffling solemnly the whole way. His gaze flitted over the living room, it bare furnishings. There was a couch that dominated the space, its pillows plush and a rich champagne color, next to a rocking chair. The fire in the hearth had burned out until it was just embers that needed to be stoked again. The tiny end table that had been meticulously hand carved by Sve-
The Official Republic of Finland quickly made his way to the kitchen, where he broke down in tears.
- about 90 years later-
"Peter! ...PETER!" Tino groaned and sat up in bed, ready to face another day.
It takes a considerable amount of effort to actually keep his eyes open. He pushed the coverlet back and toppled from the mattress, bringing the sheets down with him.
"DAMN IT PETER, WHERE ARE YOU CHILD?" Tino stumbles, bleary eyed, down to the kitchen. There are two pieces of toast and a jar of Tino's favorite strawberry jam in the middle of the kitchen island. Under the jar there is a sticky note. Tino reads it aloud.
"Dear Ma, went to Uncle Alfred's. Took Hanatamago. Back before Sunday. Hugs and Goodmornin's, love Peter."
He sighs and crumples the note, tossing it to the trash bin. It hits the rim and misses… and suddenly Tino is overcome by nostalgia.
They were both in the kitchen, Tino chopping radishes for stew and Berwald hauling in the smoked and salted beef. They were both on edge, having escaped to an isolated cabin on the fringes of the Gulf of Bothnia as Danish forces closed in on the area from undisclosed areas in Norway. It seemed as if Denmark wasn't ready to let go of them yet, and continued perusing an almost 180 year battle of dominance that none of the other Nordic brothers seemed to fully comprehend. Tino was wearing his favorite aquamarine sweater, the sleeves pushed back to his elbows. Berwald unwrapped the pieces of beef carefully before balling the yellow rice paper up and tossing it to the tiny trash bin in the kitchen corner. It touches the edge then tumbles to the floor, and Berwald (with his husky winter coat, Eskimo hat, and almost constant stern demeanor) lets out a low grumble of a laugh. Tino turns, shocked to disbelief, and the genuine quality of Sweden's smile calms something in his timid heart.
It takes a few hard swallows and some rubbing of his eyes to keep the tears at bay.
After he feels clear headed enough, his feet take him over to the refrigerator. There is a bowl of soggy Frosted Flakes on the top shelf with orange juice just behind it. Tino smiles slightly, sighs, and then closes the refrigerator door.
"You're such a silly thoughtful boy…"
Tino reasons that it must be Alfred's influence, who had always been a complete mama's boy. 'Wouldn't have anything to do with Francis', Tino snickers to himself, 'and completely blew his top at a World Conference over the spreading of that silly nursery song Frere Jacques in the American youth'. The boy had practically been kept in the shadow of Author's coattails, not that it helped his rebellious spirit much.
He slurps up the rest of his cereal while contemplating various family dynamics among the other countries. After the bowl is thoroughly empty, he drags himself down the hall and back to his room with its adjoining bathroom. The tiles are almost unbearably cold as he walks briskly across the room to the shower. He only has about 15 minutes to spare, and it isn't nearly enough time to work the tension from his shoulders. Immediately after, he goes over to the sink to brush his teeth and style his hair, putting his favorite beret firmly in place.
Suitcase and coat are swiped off the couch before Tino bustles out the door and to his small white Kia. 'The sun is shining unusually bright for Helsinki today', Tino surmises, 'maybe it's a good omen.'
A/N: Well, this is something I've been dabbling with recently. I've never tried my hand at anything that had a historical parallel, but I feel that the events and various going ons add to the depth of the plot so there will be more references to come. Please feel free to correct me where I'm wrong with anything. :)
December 22, 1917 - Decree of Finland's Independence from Russia.