1154

"Hey, you stupid idiot, leave me alone!", Norway complained while Denmark dragged him into the opposite direction of the way Sweden took. This sentence (followed by diverse not understandable complaining) was the last the light-blond teenager heard from his two friends. He was on his way east – in the morning the young Vikings have had a little fight about where to go today.
The last years had been full of fights and wars. It was not that Sweden hated it to be alongside his friends, attacking France, attacking England. Plundering, burning and destroying. It was somehow fun. He could not explain it. But he did not enjoy it that much compared to Denmark or Norway. Berwald was a lot calmer then Mathias. Even more quiet then Lukas. It was not that he liked it to be alone but sometimes it seemed like it was the best when he parted himself from the two.
He had the feeling that he disturbed them. Why? He did not know.
Sometimes he searched the answers in the sky that was there above him, in a pale blue. The weak winter sun was more white than yellow and it was snowing although he could not make out any clouds up there. It was unusual for him but it was like he walked with his heads in some imaginary clouds, thinking about everything and nothing.

When he managed to tear himself out of those thoughts – some of them were pretty stupid, he knew that – he looked around him in surprised. How long had he walked? It was like he had forgotten about time and space. Where was he? That was a stupid question, somehow. It had been his own decision to go eastwards. So it was his own fault that he had not pay any attention on the way.
Here was the snow deeper and he could not see his footprints anymore. What had he wanted here? Oh, yes, explore. Next to him had to be another nation too, or not? Except Norway. When they had headed westwards one or two centuries ago, it had been the same. There were England and France and he had heard of a few other nations like Italy and Spain, for example. So in the direction west and south were more countries. Norway had sailed into the northern direction – and had found a little kid that he had named Iceland. This little boy was often with them since that day but Norway had told him that he liked Iceland to stay on his island so he was not dragged into a stupid war.

The faint light managed to sneak through the thin leaves. It produced a green shine that remembered him of sparkling gems – he had found some of those stones when they had invaded England. But this green was still different. It fit perfectly to the snow underground.
The trees were huge and he wondered why it was still so bright around this place. It did not seem lonely. And it seemed not strange to him although he had never been there. It was familiar. He could not explain it but he felt happy here. It was quiet but on the other side, the sounds of life filled each space. The wind that moved the branches of the trees and shrubberies. The sound of the singing birds. The melodies sounded different. Somehow calming and more silently.
He did not know them like he did not know this place. The air tasted like berries and although it was the end of winter, he could still make out some glossy blue berries where the snow was not that deep. He took one step deeper into that beautiful face, turning around and just admitting the environment.

In the next moment he heard how a branch broke somewhere behind him and turned around. He was no person to trust others blindly and so he brought up his sword while he glanced and searched for the cause for the noise. Sweden had always been a pretty good hunter so he could have made out other beings fast. He knew how an animal moved whether it was a bear, a deer or a rabbit.
The air smelled different around them when he was on a hunt – often it dripped from fear. And now he could also taste some fear between the sweet flavor of berries. And there was the noise of someone breathing fast. Sweden took a few steps into the direction of the sound when he suddenly stopped. The person that had appeared next to the tree in front of him looked indescribable.
He was not sure if it was not maybe a vision or a hallucination. The soft glimmering shine from before seemed to reflected itself on this pale skin that looked like porcelain. The child – it was in his appearance about five or six years younger than himself – wore only a long white tunica and a red scarf and still the exposed skin of his arms was not reddened by the icy cold around him. It was a boy although Sweden was not really sure about that. He could only tell that by the short, light-colored blonde hair that was a whole mess. His eyes were from a deep violet with brown shades and gleamed in fear while his tiny hand were clenched into the wrinkles of his tunica. His face was round and innocent like only a child's was but it was reddened. Maybe because he was terrified?
Sweden did not thought in the moment he looked at the smaller boy.
Neither of them moved except the soft shivering of the boy. Suomi was afraid. He was in danger. He had never seen another nation ever before. Not such a tall one.
Maybe Sweden was not even aware of the sword that was still pointing on the others chest but he was aware of nothing but Suomi. He had never seen such a pure creature all his life – and he had lived for centuries so that counted much. It took him moments that felt like hours or maybe months or even years to focus on something other than this face, this hair, these huge eyes. For him it still did not felt like reality – the fact that the boy was still in front of him and had not flee him supported his suggestion that this was nothing more than a silly dream. He let his sword sink and took a step forward. Finland flinched and took a step back in turn, still shivering all over. The cold never bothered him as well as the wild animals – he was more befriended with them than with his inhabitants.

Sometime later the silence was broken by the trembling voice of the boy. "Mitä haluat minusta?"
Sweden blinked a few times like he had to make sure that he was still awake. He stared at him in confusion, not understanding a word what the small nation was saying. It did not count anyways.
He had decided long ago what he was going to do now.
With a few steps he was beside him and knelt down in front of the tiny boy that looked at him in shock. He took off his darkblue cloak and wrapped it gently around the little ones shoulders. It was a miracle that the boy was not running away but it seems like the fear had rooted him there. Suomi could just stare at the teenager, afraid of those bright blue eyes that could have reminiscent him of the seas of his own country. The height of the nation, the shoulders that had grown broad in the passing decades – all of it frightened him. For Suomi Sweden was terrible but terrible beautiful too – he was like one of those polar bears. He would have admired him if he had not been in such a shock. This shock only grew and waved over him with an incredible power when Sweden lifted him up. Finland struggled first like the touch had brushed the shock out of his body. But though Sweden's grip was as tender as possible, it was still strong and it felt like the other one would never let him go. "I'll t'ke care of y'.", Sweden hushed as silently as he could and held the nation close. "Finland."
He did not even ask for his name. It was nothing that had really interested him – how the nation called himself. The one thing that had counted was that he was with him. Sweden just wanted to hold him, to protect him. The feeling of this little boy inside his arms was familiar and made his heart warm. It erased the dark thoughts and the stupid questions if he still belonged to his two friends. The younger one smelled like the whole landscape before, on a subtle way. Like berries, flowers, fresh air and like honey. And he looked like pure snow so that the warmth around him was simply a paradox. His skin was so fair that it was shining in the sunrays. Gleamed like the snow, shimmering like icicles. After a while Suomi, no, Finland, stopped fighting his grip and rested his head onto the taller ones shoulder. He was helpless but felt safe at the same time. He had been overtaken and did not knew it yet. No, at the moment the boy just felt warm and protected. "I promise.", Sweden murmered, he could not help but smile as he felt how the nation obeyed to his grip. The breath of the child tickled on his neck and it became more regular and quiet. The boy was falling asleep slowly while Sweden just stood there and stroke about the boys back. Although he was covered with two layers…he could still feel how fragile he was. Delicate. Frail. Tiny. But he would protect him – no one would ever be able to hurt this nation. "…Ruotsi…", murmered Finland in his sleep, his small hands in the back of Swedens shirts. Sweden did not knew in that moment that this was the boy's name for him - but he did not care. Gently he brought up the head of the sleeping child with one hand and pressed a tender, innocent kiss on his forehead. "I'll protect y'…"

1809

Berwald was teared out of this memory when he realized the hot tears that finally streamed down his face - or were they just imagination too? No.
They clearly fell onto the ice-cold, snow-white underground and melted it. He let down his arms and hid his face in his large hands as if it was able to make anything better. Sweden could still see this little boy, still feel how those hands hold the fabric of his shirt behind his neck. The warm, sweet breath of him on his skin. How happy he had been to find him but - oh, how posessive he had been. He had not seen that he had frightened the boy. He had not realized that Finland maybe would have liked to tell him how his name was. Sweden shivered from the cold inside, glancing up at the grey sky.
"Suomi...", he whispered. "I am so sorry."
But it was not the last time he had promised a thing that did not become true. It was not the last time that he had hold him, that he had embraced him.
Although it was the first time for him to love. It had been such a innocent love, like a blooming flower in spring.
He had not threated this flower on a good way. Again he closed his eyes - no matter what he would see next, if it was as happy on first sight like this memory - he did not want it to touch him. But he knew it would when he thought he would hear a soft laughter from far away.

Mitä haluat minusta? = Finnish for: What do you want from me?

Ethymology of the name Finland = 'covered in snow' (from the old-northern language: the adjective from the word 'Finne')

Historical Background: The swedish King Eric IX. made his first armed exploration to Finland in the year 1154 and tried to christianize the finnish population. Since that more and more of the finnish land fell under the rule of Sweden.

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