Disclaimer: I don't own anything involved here. I just think this space looks silly without something here.

White Winter

Chapter Nine: The Borders Between

Her name was Ulloriaq, and she seemed inordinately fond of Iceland. Though she spoke mostly with Canada – whom she seemed to assume was the leader of their little party, much to said nation's discomfort – she hovered close to the island nation at all times, giggled at every little thing he said and tried, on at least three occasions, to hold his hand. Iceland was not happy with this new development, but he endured the hour they followed in her footsteps, if only because Finland and Norway kept up a silent guard to make sure he kept their guide happy.

Even after so much time had passed, there was very little change of scenery. The light had changed from a clean green to a cool ice blue, and the temperature shifted down a few degrees, but that was all. They hadn't even come across another of the Taqriqsuit. There was only stillness.

"I gotta say, we don't see your kind very often," Ulloriaq said to Canada, dangling from Iceland's arm and screwing up her face in a cute little pout. "Nations, I mean. Humans stumble in on occasion, and we get plenty of shamans wandering through in trances, but Nations…We don't have them in our world, only countries."

Denmark snorted. "What's the difference?"

"You, I guess." Ulloriaq shrugged. "Or maybe it's the borders. Our countries don't really have them, they just kinda end, you know? They turn into this."

She nodded to the emptiness around them, the smoke and darkness and gleaming rocks. Norway followed her gaze, flipping through the pages of a small, newer journal that he'd brought with them and nibbling on the end of his pen. "But what is this?"

Again, Ulloriaq shrugged. "It's In-Between Place. We don't need to know another word for it. It's just the way you get to other countries."

A cold wind howled through the emptiness, cutting the shadow-girl off in mid-thought. She stopped, dragged Iceland to a halt and shuddered from head to toe. The other nations followed her lead, coming to a halt. "What is it?" Canada asked.

"That doesn't happen in-between," Ulloriaq said softly. "Weather only happens on the edge of countries…"

Sweden grunted in surprise, his head jerking suddenly to the right. Finland reached for his gun. "Su-san, what is it?"

"G't d'wn," Sweden said, hitting the deck and tugging Canada and Finland down with him. Denmark and the others followed suit, but only after a fierce rumbling, like an explosion in the distance, jarred the ground beneath their feet. They ducked below the fog level and pressed close to the ground as the explosion grew closer and faster, building up into a more and more familiar rhythm.

"Footsteps," Denmark muttered, voicing their collective thoughts just before the source of the noise appeared directly in front of them.

He was a hulking giant eight stories tall, with feet as long as a city bus and hands the size of large tanks. His huge footsteps, each as long as a football field, rumbled over the space in-between like thunder. He passed directly over them, sending fog dancing in all directions in his wake, and thumped off into the distance. A harsh winter wind accompanied him, laden with ice and snow. He paused for only a moment, far too close for comfort, and then continued on until he finally disappeared once more into the darkness.

Ulloriaq clung to Iceland with both arms and did not speak until the giant was well away. "Those creatures only live in Winter's country. They follow him. Everyone there does." She stood then and scurried away from the nations, turning back after only a few feet. "I can't go any further than this. None of us ever do. Just keep going straight, the way I told you, and you'll reach it."

"Oh, come on!" Iceland insisted, hopping up. "You can't just leave us with that junk! Can't you tell us anything?"

Ulloriaq looked pained, but shook her head. "I'm sorry. I've never been there. It's not a country that people can leave because they want to. Winter…and those things that work for him…are the only creatures that ever come out of there." She darted close, moving faster than they would have guessed, and gave Iceland a single peck on the cheek. "Be careful in there. Please."

Then she darted away and sank back into the shadows where she belonged.

Iceland rubbed his cheek. "That was awkward."

"I dunno," said Denmark with a chuckle as he slung his arm around the smaller nation's shoulders. "I thought you made a cute couple."

"Shut up."

Another rumbling footstep echoed through the air, and Demark hit the deck on instinct, slamming Iceland down with him. Nothing came of the sound, and the giant, wherever her was, stayed far away.

The nations picked themselves up, tension sinking from their muscles. Finland brushed flecks of moisture and sparkling dust from his rifle. "We should keep moving…Matthew, what's wrong?"

"I'm fine," the younger nation said from the ground, where he still knelt with one hand pressed against his forehead. "I just felt a little…oh god…"

Realizing what was about to happen a second before it did, the other nations flinched away and gave Canada what little privacy they could before he emptied the contents of his stomach into the fog. When he was done, he gagged and wiped his lip on the back of a mitten. "Oh, jeez, I am so sorry…"

"What happened?" Finland pressed, reaching up to feel the younger nation's forehead. "Are you sick?"

"Nah, it's nerves," Denmark said, flicking a finger across his nose cockily. "God knows near-death encounters like with those giant freaks have scared the breakfast out of braver folks, let me tell you."

"Or he could be having an allergic reaction to the magic in this realm," Norway provided helpfully.

"No, no, it's nothing like that," Canada said, waving off the Nordics' concerned examinations and Sweden's attempt to lift him onto his back. "Berwald, stop, really. I'm fine. It was just…my head. I was just trying because I thought I heard…" He trailed off and let his eyes wander away, suddenly self-conscious about what he was about to reveal. "…It's nothing. I'm fine. Really."

"Canada," said Finland, and his voice held hint of a threatening scold that wielded parental authority.

Canada shifted awkwardly and flashed back to his own colony-hood, though in truth it had been America who was target of England's accusations more than himself. "It's…It's sort of complicated. America and I…since we were so close, I was just trying to check on him and…"

The feeling he'd found there was not vivid, but it hurt, as though he was absorbing it through layers of foam and protective padding. His head still pounded with the effort, emphasized by the lingering pain. The thought that his brother was going through such abuse right now made his stomach churn once more.

Canada covered his mouth with his hand, closed his eyes and turned away, curling against his own shoulder as though that could hide him from the others' gaze. "I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

Denmark heaved a sigh and made his way over, patting Canada's shoulder so hard that the shorter nation nearly fell over. "Don't worry, kid. We'll get him back and you won't have to worry about it."

The others nodded their own support and made sure Canada was stable on his feet before continuing on their way. Canada was just falling into step behind them when a silver flask was suddenly pressed into his stomach. He blinked and looked up at Russia, who smiled down at him in a way that might have been called kind, if it wasn't also terrifying. "Vodka is good for the stomach, da?"

"Uhm…thank you?" Canada took the flask and tried to decide whether it was a good idea to refuse, despite the protests of his squirming stomach. He settled for taking a tiny sip and stifling a since when it burned on the way down.

Russia seemed pleased enough, and took back his flask without complaint. They'd fallen to the back of the group by now, so Canada took the opportunity to slip up beside the larger nation and say, "Listen, Russia, about what happened before…on the porch? I'm sorry. I didn't mean…"

"You have nothing to apologize for," Russia said without looking at him. "I have put it behind me."

Canada stopped. "I don't believe you."

Russia stopped as well and glanced back. "What?"

"I don't believe you," said Canada with a confidence that even he could not really identify. "It's not possible. There's no way that anyone, even you, could move past something like that on your own."

"And what makes you think I was alone?"

"Who else would you go to, for something like this?"

Russia's gaze narrowed, but he didn't try to deny or confirm anything. From the front the group, Denmark called back. "Holy shit, guys. I think that's it."

And so they stepped into Winter's Country, not yet knowing what lay ahead.