AN: Update was totally not delayed and/or unexpected.

The geography of the continent/kingdom is vaguely like that of Europe...for whatever reason, and the name of all the fiefs have something to do with that as well.

Oh well, enjoy the backstories~

DISCLAIMER: Hetalia does net belong to me.

Down the Currents of Memory

As I used the branch to keep the boat moving away from the sun, Giselle watched me cautiously. I sensed that she was not comfortable; out of her depth at sea.

We sat in silence as we set our course due west. The clear skies that had graced us that morning had faded to grey, and droplets of rain had begun to fall. A gust of wind blew over us and I shivered involuntarily.

'Are you cold?'

I looked up from the water warily, it was the first thing she'd said to me since we'd left the cove. Her cloak was wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

'No,' I lied, it felt as though she was testing me.

She did not reply, and I turned my attention back to the water. Moments later I was surprised by the sound of fabric falling at my feet.

Giselle had thrown the other end of her cloak at me, she was facing the direction we had come from, refusing to look at me. I turned away as well, smile playing upon my lips.

Some time had past before she spoke again, by this time the sun was already high overhead.

'Let me row,'

'Pardon?' I asked, shaken from my reverie.

'I said "let me row". Are you deaf, Kirkland?' she reiterated curtly.

'There's no need,' I started, she cut me off impatiently.

'I've watched you row, I know what to do. Besides, you need to eat; you' be been rowing for hours.'

She was correct, I was beginning to tire. Reluctantly I handed her the makeshift oar and picked up an apple from the pile by our feet.

I finished the apple and threw the core away, where it bobbed by the boat in the waves. Still famished, I ate a few more, before insisting Giselle do the same.

We fell into the pattern of taking turns rowing and eating, it was a harmonious pattern, and I found myself wishing we would not part ways after I'd recovered my gold. We worked well together, something I valued in my crew, and I still had some time to convince her.

Soon the boat was devoid of apples, our water skins were empty and the sun was before us, slowly traversing towards the horizon.

'We should make for land soon,' I commented.

Giselle nodded and handed the branch back to me, indicating I should steer the boat back to shore. I began rowing to the left of the sun, reaching the sandy shore by the time the it reached the horizon.

Giselle wasted no time when we hit the shore, leaping out of the boat and stretching as I pulled it to shore. She then disappeared into the brush and returned a while later carrying an armful of twigs. Not paying me any heed, she proceeded to arrange the twigs on the beach before starting a fire with a flint she pulled from her boot. Her bird, which had been following our boat, returned to her shoulder and dropped a berry in her hand. She smiled and ruffled its feathers.

'Thank you, Gilbird,'

'Gilbird?' I asked, bemused.

She flushed slightly.

'It was the first name I thought of and he hasn't responded to anything else since.'

I chuckled, a response which was cut short by a glare. In this firelight, it was easy to see why some would think of her as a demon.

'Give me your water skin,' she demanded. 'I heard a stream somewhere in the brush.'

'It's almost dark,' I protested.

'I won't get lost,' she snapped. 'Give me your water skin unless you'd rather become dehydrated.'

I tossed it over and she caught it easily, before marching into the brush.

Sometime later she returned, water skins filled and cloak full of berries.

'Gilbird led me to the bush,' she looked at her bird fondly, before throwing my water skin back and spreading her cloak out near where I was sitting by the fire.

As I ate the berries she shed her armour, stretching with catlike grace once it'd been removed. The moon already hung full in the night sky and the warmth of the fire caused me to begin feeling drowsy.

'Kirkland?' I heard my companion ask. 'Are you asleep?'

I opened my eyes, she was propped against her piled armour a little distance away from me.

'No,' I replied, before stretching out my legs and lying down. 'But I soon will be.'

She looked irritated, as if she hadn't expected me to respond. I closed my eye and watched her through my lashes. She looked out to sea, her eyes glistening too brightly, her skin seeming almost translucent in the moonlight. As I watched her, her expression turned pensive, and I wondered if she was thinking of the fiefdom that had exiled her. She closed her eyes and a single tear trickled from her eyelid. I closed my eye as well, so she could be allowed to grieve for her loss privately.

Presently she spoke again:

'Kirkland?' Her voice was softer this time, tinged with sleepiness.

'Yes?' I mumbled, mind already drifting into oblivion.

'Why did you become a pirate? You wouldn't have been an outcast.' She mused.

'Your golden hair and green eyes would have been completely normal, and by the way you speak, I would have taken you for nobility,' she laughed, as if dismissing the thought.

Suddenly I was alert again.

'You're right,' I said slowly.

'What?' She asked, voice growing dangerous.

'You're right,' I repeated. 'I was nobility.'

'Do not mock me!' she hissed, and I felt what must have been sand she'd kicked falling over me.

I sat up.

'I'm not. I was the fifth and youngest son of an impoverished noble.'

Her eyes were filled with suspicion.

'The reason my family name isn't more recognised is they're not very important, I'm afraid. Just ancient enough to afford a family name differing from that of their fiefdom. You may have heard of Fief Albion?'

She nodded, but I could tell she was not entirely convinced.

'As for why I became I pirate, my brothers were already married to wealthy ladies, but it was not enough. My father wanted me to marry the heiress of the neighbouring fiefdom - Marianne of Gaul. I refused, I was too young and I disliked the lady. So my father gave me an ultimatum; either I'd marry Marianne, or he'd banish me. I chose the latter and took to the seas that very night upon my father's old warship.'

My lips twisted into a bitter smile.

'You see, Giselle, we're not so different after all. We're both exiles.'

That was not the right thing to say, for Giselle – who'd been listening attentively to my tale – immediately turned away.

'How long?' She asked finally.

I grasped her meaning, knowing her exile was worse as it wasn't voluntary.

'How long have I been exiled for? Well, I think it's been ten years. I've never so much as even sailed near Albion since. I've always been the black sheep of the family, so I don't know what my brothers will be thinking of me now.' I finished with a bitter laugh.

For a while neither of us spoke, I'd evidently given Giselle much to mull over.

'Giselle?' I asked, wondering if she'd fallen asleep.

She shifted further away from me.

'Goodnight, Kirkland. Go to sleep.'

After a while I gave up on waiting her to turn around again.

I woke to the ashes of the previous night's fire and an empty space beside me. For a moment I was afraid Giselle had abandoned me, a fear that subsided as I noted her still piled armour and the yellow bird that sat upon it. The bird watched me curiously as I approached it.

'Hello Gilbird,' I murmured. 'Where is your owner?'

As if on cue, there was a cracking sound of twigs breaking under booted feet.

'Right here,' Giselle said, emerging from the brush.

Her hair was damp, her cloak and tunic were also damp but noticeably cleaner, her lips were stained a bright red by the berries she must have been eating.

'Good morning,' I smiled at her, receiving a wary look in return.

'I just bathed in the stream, Gilbird will lead you there now.'

She began to don her armour, taking care to avoid contact with her right shoulder.

'Your shoulder,' I phrased this as a question.

'It's fine,' she hissed, her posture becoming defensive.

'Let me check it, it's hard to see behind you and you won't be a particularly good mercenary with an infected arm,'

She paused for a few moments, then relaxed her shoulders.

'Go bathe first,' she commanded, removing the pieces of armour she'd been wearing.

I did as she ordered, following her bird into the brush.

When I returned, feeling fresher than before, the ashes were smouldering embers and shellfish – presumably dug up from the sand – were cooking upon it.

'I begun to think you'd gotten lost,' Giselle commented wryly, then she frowned at me.

'What?' I asked, self consciously wiping at the corners of my mouth for any traces of berry juice that may had dripped there.

'I'd thought you really only had one eye,' she noted bemusedly, a ghost of a smile playing at her lips. 'Why did you wear the eyepatch anyway, if you don't need it?'

My face heated, as I remembered having taken off my eyepatch and placing it the pocket of my coat before I bathed.

'Let's check your shoulder,' I muttered, changing the subject, before slipping the eyepatch back on.

Giselle raised an eyebrow.

'You look better without it,' she said with nonchalance.

Nevertheless she obliged, sitting down upon the sand and slipping her tunic off her shoulder.

I carefully removed the clumsily wrapped bandage and inspected the wound. It had scabbed over into a long thin line slightly edged with pink. There was no inflammation or any other sign of infection. Reassured, I rewrapped the bandage, taking care not to agitate the wound.

'Are you done?' She demanded just as I tucked in the edge of the bandage. 'It's getting cold.'

'Yes,' I replied, pulling her tunic back over her shoulder, causing her to emit an indignant sound and immediately move away from me.

She picked a shellfish off the embers.

'Help yourself,' she said, before cracking open the shell and prising the meat off with her teeth.

'You wanted to know why I wear an eyepatch?' I said conversationally as I too picked up a shellfish.

'Why?' She asked, feigning disinterest.

'Intimidation,' I replied, before cracking a conspiratorial smirk. 'Beside, I keep switching eyes; that's why they never get my wanted posters right.'

She seemed amused, and smiled briefly before turning back to the embers.

Once we'd consumed all the molluscs, refilled our water skins and stripped the berry bush of fruit, we set back onto our westerly course, falling back into the same pattern as we had the previous day. However the silence that had plagued us previously had dissipated somewhat.

'How old are you?' She asked as she relieved me of the oar.

'Twenty six,' I answered on reflex. 'Why?'

She didn't answer, instead staring out into the horizon.

'So you were sixteen when you left your fief,' she mused. 'I was knighted at sixteen.'

'How old are you now?'

'Didn't your mother ever teach you to never ask a woman her age?' She mocked.

I made an apologetic gesture.

'I'm twenty five,' she was staring back at the horizon, lost to nostalgia. 'Six years older than Lord Teuton's heir. His sister was the same age as me, but she was sent off to marry a duke before I became a knight.

'Magyar's daughter is sixteen too,' she added sourly. 'I'd feel sorry for her if she wasn't behind my exile.'

'How'd you become a knight?' I asked. 'It is usually those of noble birth who are offered the chance to take up training.'

She considered my question for a while.

'I suppose it's only fair that I tell you,' she finally said. 'Seeing as you told me of your own past last night.

'Like Lady Héderváry, I am the daughter of a swordmaster; Master Beilschmidt of Castle Teuton. My mother died in childbirth, making of me a darker omen than I already would have been. My father was distant, dedicated to his work. As a child I was always left to wander around the castle grounds on my own, none of the other children would come near me, for I was "cursed by the devil". My haunt became the orchard, where I'd watch the pages training from trees. When I was eleven, one of these pages called me a "mother-killing monster" and I disarmed and beat him with his training sword using the moves I'd observed from the trees. I think that was the first time my father was proud of me – he put me into training as well and I became his best student. Five years later I won Lord Teuton's tournament and was sent to the capital to be knighted by the King.

'I suppose I should have expected this day to come.' she mused.

'I've learnt to have a thick skin, but I did notice things. The courtiers and servants were frightened of me, and the peasants seemed to fear me more than the bandits I protected them from.'

She trailed her hand into the sea, before looking over at me.

'I don't know why you wanted me to join your crew, Kirkland. After all, you thought I was a demon as well. I supposed you did to hire me as a mercenary.' She trailed off, uncomfortable at having divulged so much.

I cleared my throat, having become increasingly angered on her behalf throughout her tale.

'In my defense, I only asked if you were a demon as I was disorientated when you emerged from the mist,' I said. 'I know you are human, and I wanted you to join my crew because I respect your ability to fight.'

Silence descended on us once more, we looked anywhere but at the other, abashed at our honesty.

The pattern changed a little after noon when Giselle noticed something in the water.

'What is it?' I asked, peering at the water.

'Fish,' she replied, just as I saw them. 'I don't know about you, but I'm hungry.'

Without warning she threw her cloak like a net into the water.

'Careful!' I exclaimed as the boat rocked violently. 'You'll overturn the boat.'

She ignored me, dragging her cloak through the water. Finally she pulled it, completely soaked with brine, back onto the boat.

'Dammit, they got away,' she huffed with annoyance.

I laughed, ignoring the glare she sent me.

'Try leaving it still in the water as we move,' I suggested. 'You'll have a better chance at catching something that way.'

She appeared sceptical, then shrugged and lowered her cloak back into the water. I turned my attention back to rowing the boat.

'I caught something!' Giselle suddenly exclaimed.

The excitement in her tone caused me to smile. I turned the boat in the direction of the coast.

'It won't be comfortable with that flopping at our feet,' I warned. 'So hold on to it until we make it to shore.'

She nodded, still looking decided pleased with herself.

When we disembarked at a beach, Giselle dragged her cloaked with its flopping cargo ashore and make short work of the three fish she'd caught with her sword.

'Go find some wood to cook these on,' she said, grinning at the size of her catches. 'I'll clean and gut them while you're gone.'

I did as she asked and headed into the nearby brush, Gilbird flying after me.

I had collected a bundle of twigs and sticks and was about to return to the beach, when the small yellow bird flew towards me, berry in his beak.

'You're a clever bird,' I commented as he swallowed the berry and flew back in the direction he came from, prompting me to follow. A while later, Gilbird settled in a bush of dark berries.

'I should pick some for later,' I muttered to myself, setting the bundle on the ground.

I removed my jacket and filled it with berries, before picking the sticks back up and following my feathered guide back to the beach.

I had not thought one would be able to scale and gut a fish with a sword, but the cleaned fish, and Giselle washing her sword in the sea proved me wrong. She was impressed when she saw the berries.

'Gilbird must like you,' she said, looking musingly at her bird, before lighting the wood with her flint.

'I didn't find any fresh water,' I admitted as we turned the stick we'd skewered the fish on over the flames.

She shrugged, causing sparks to fly from the fire.

'We can just keep close to the coastline for the next while, sooner or later we'll run into a river.'

'That's true,' I said in agreement, and turned back to the fish.

I had held my end of the stick too close to the fire, and the fish closest to me was completely charred. Giselle noticed and gave an amused laugh.

'You can have the middle fish,' she said, pulling the stick away from the fire.

We ate, then boarded the small boat again, keeping along the coastline as Giselle had suggested. Soon enough we arrived at the wide mouth of a river.

'This must be Fief Dansk,' she mused. 'Where the Great River meets the Northern Sea.'

We disembarked and Giselle tasked me with filling the water skins, before turning towards the brush some distance away from the river.

'Where are you going?' I asked.

'I need to relieve myself,' she replied, a faint flush appearing across her cheeks.

I nodded and walked further upriver to fill the skins with fresh water, before returning to the boat. Giselle had not yet returned, so I picked up the bow and tested its string, cursing at having not paid attention during the archery lessons of my youth. Should I be attacked at this moment, I had only a weapon I could barely use.

A flash of white caught the corner of my eye, drawing me from my musings, I looked up, smile on my lips and witty remark readied upon my tongue that faded as I noticed the second figure.

Another knight, wearing a red plumed helmet covering their face, moved behind Giselle, sword poised to swing at her neck.

Notes:

Will probably update on a monthly schedule.