AN: All translations can from Google Translate, so pardon if they are wrong.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but my character Camilla Madrigal. I am poor, do not sue me, you'll get nothing.
...
A repetitive noise could be heard outside of the walls of the brick house. Looking up from the fire, reaching for his gun, Emil stood to investigate.
The sound of marching could be heard. Looking out of his window, he recognized the soldiers marching: They were of Norway and Finland.
That's when he heard heavier marching. He turned, bewildered, and ran to the back of his house, looking out. He went paler than usual. Those were the soldiers of Denmark and Sweden.
They were all here, in Iceland. What was going to–
The sound of open gunfire was coupled with a sudden burst of pain. They had – they had all opened fire on the soldiers that must have come to see what was going on! He felt blood trickling down his arm and he flinched, grabbing the spot tightly, hoping to ease the blood flow.
He quickly grabbed his gun and ran out of the house, ignoring the now warm liquid already dripping down his arm and leg. He ran out, to the edge of the battle.
It was freezing, but he knew that. His soldiers were fighting hard, but they weren't ready for a four-on-one invasion. How come the other two forces were acting as one!
Everything stopped for a second when he felt a bullet collide with his back. He fell to his knees, hands hitting the cold ground, as coughing racked his body, blood spurting from his mouth and adding color to the landscape around him. He shook with the pain, fighting unconsciousness.
While having his own battle with himself, he did not notice the noises growing quieter around him. When he was next able, he looked up to the blurry area around him – to see two people standing to his left, and two to his right, four guns pointing at him.
He turned to the left, looking into Norway's eyes desperately. "Vinsamlegast ekki skjóta mig... þú getur ekki... vinsamlegast, bróðir..." Norway flinched, grip tightening.
Iceland couldn't stand it much longer. He heard the commands: "Klar!" twice, one on each side. And then, just as he thought it was over – the sound of hooves.
And the sound of a very, very pissed off Canadian.
"Stand down, or we'll blow you to the sky!" Canada growled, a splinter army following him on horseback. Each of the mounted soldiers hand a gun pointed at one of the Nordics, excepting Emil. Slowly, Lukas and Tino disengaged. Mathias and Berwald, however, did not.
"Trois!" They didn't move.
"Deux!" Sweden slowly, annoyed, lowered his gun.
"Un, bon sang!" Matthew shouted harshly. His blue eyes were covered in formality and anger to hide his hatred and fear of this war. A long bandage covered the wound he had gotten from America's secret twenty-person invasion earlier.
Noting the Canadian country's heavy breathing and stiff demeanor, the Dane sighed. Denmark lowered his gun, and Iceland felt a breath of relief grasp him. His vision kept fading in and out to black, and he wasn't sure he'd be able to stay awake much longer…
He felt a nimble hand grip him gently, and suddenly he was being pulled up. He was leaning against a much taller man; he realized Matthew had pulled him up onto the horse. Matthew kept one hand holding the reins, the other holding the Icelander to him carefully, making sure he was secure and would not fall if he passed out.
Canada's voice became fuzzy in his ears. "Disgusting, the four of you teaming up to take out the lone Nordic. And to think you call yourselves a family. Don't make me laugh. The Icelandic forces have been forced into retreat, but I can promise you that my own soldiers will massacre yours if you do not do so as well."
The voice then fell silent to Emil's ears, eyes sliding shut as a heavy and dull feeling of pain and exhaustion overtook him. The last thing he was aware of was the movement of the horse and Matt's tight arm on him as they left.
And then there was nothing.
...
AN: Please R&R!