A full week had passed since the small group had left Paris, and they were enjoying the runoff from a hot spring along the border of Italy. Germany, Prussia, and Finland frolicked in the warm water while their freshly cleaned clothes dried in the sun. Sweden of course, was content with sitting on the frosty riverbank, flipping through the last pages of his book. The chill of the wind skimmed over the surface of the water, but that didn't deter the three as they enjoyed a well earned period of relaxation.
Germany watched as Finland expertly stacked leaves on the surface on the water, carefully placing them together to form a small pyramid. As Finland added the last few leaves, Germany's gaze drifted to where Prussia was floating on a piece of driftwood.
Germany tapped Finland on the shoulder and motioned towards Prussia, a mischievous smile on his thin lips. Finland nodded and the two lowered themselves into the water, slowly pursuing Prussia like hungry crocodiles; only the top half of their heads showing above the smooth surface of the water.
The unsuspecting Prussia let his hand lazily sink into the water, making gentle ripples as he moved it in tiny circles. The sun softy beat down on his pale skin and turned his hair a gleaming white.
Germany and Finland situated themselves at the side of the plank of wood. Germany silently took a deep breath through his nostrils and slipped underneath Prussia.
Finland did the same, and placed his hands underneath the edge. After a few moments, Germany exploded upwards, lifting the plank into the air while Finland flipped it over, sending Prussia flailing into the water.
Sweden lifted his book out of the splash zone, but the water succeeded in drenching his boots and the bottom of his pants. Germany and Finland burst out in laughter and high-fived each other in celebration.
The flustered and frustrated Prussian popped out of the water, his red eyes flickering between Finland and Germany, making droplets of water shimmer on his white eyelashes. He spat the water out of his mouth at Germany's face then gave a satisfied smile of his own.
This started a free-for-all water fight. Water flew into the air as Finland skimmed his palm over the top. Prussia sunk low into the water and franticly splashed water at the others. Germany used the discarded driftwood for a shield against the bombardment until Finland came up behind him and dunked his head under the water.
Prussia jeered; pointing his finger mockingly at Germany who's hair was draped over his eyes.
Germany glanced at Finland. They both nodded then turned towards Prussia.
"Ach nein," Prussia murmured before fleeing farther down stream, but his pursuers quickly caught up to him. Germany attempted to shove his head under the water, but Prussia fought back, placing his feet in front of him and grabbing Germany's hands. He was holding his own until Finland came and forcefully submerged Prussia's face while Germany held his arms out of the way.
"This is so not fair!" Prussia yelled between dunks.
Sweden grabbed the blanket he was sitting on and began to walk away from the ongoing battle.
"Hey, Mr. Sweden's leaving," Finland observed. They ceased the attack, all three of them watching him leave. Germany and Finland let go of Prussia and the squad advanced on Sweden.
Sweden glanced back as they traversed up the slope. He grasped his book defensively as they surrounded him. "I don't want ta pl'y," he stated, clutching his book tighter.
"You don't get a say-so in the matter," Prussia chuckled.
Sweden, predicting the outcome, retreated from the battle, bolting towards the trees. But he didn't get far before Germany and Finland seized him by his arms and proceeded to drag him back towards the water.
"Nej, gå bort! Lämna mig ifred!" he protested in Swedish, struggling fiercely.
They dragged Sweden into the stream, making him drop his precious book in the water. "Låt gå! Låt gå!"
Then, with Finland grabbing his feet and Germany securing his wrists, they swung him back and forth above the water.
Germany began the count down. "Ein, zwei, drei!"
The water sprayed outward as Sweden landed in the middle of the stream. He emerged with the clear water streaming down his clothes and droplets drizzling off his glasses.
The three perpetrators laughed valiantly at their triumph, hollering in joy and excitement. Their laughter died as Sweden marched through the water, his head lowered menacingly and his sandy hair blanketing over his eyes.
Sweden snatched his drifting book out of the water and walked past Finland and Prussia. When he passed Germany however, he paused, and his eyes slowly shifted to the side, gazing at him vacantly.
Before Germany had the chance to react, Sweden seized his shoulders, knocked his feet from under him, and chucked him into the water.
When Germany lifted his head above the water he expected to see Sweden's narrowed eyes glaring at him defiantly, but what he saw was a playful smirk and gleeful eyes.
Sweden looked like a completely different person; the impenetrable barrier of seclusion was dissolved, leaving a radiant aura of happiness.
"Attack!" Prussia yelled, causing the intensive battle to continue, but this time Sweden willingly joined the fight.
As night came, Germany started a fire a fair distance from the stream while Sweden went on one of his solitary excursions into the woods. After Germany got the fire going well, he left Finland and Prussia by the fire and went to get some more water.
The nights were becoming colder now that they were traveling further south, so Germany brought his jacket along with him. When he approached the spring he saw Sweden sitting at the edge with his back towards Germany, washing his shirt in the steaming water.
This was the first time Germany had ever seen Sweden without a long sleeved shirt, and now he knew why Sweden never removed it: Numerous scars covered the surface of his back and arms along with multiple burn marks etched along his sides. Some where jagged, others sharp and defined, a few of them recent.
Sweden quickly noticed him, and glanced over his shoulder reservedly.
Germany approached and sat down next to him. "I'm sorry about your book."
"I nev'r got ta the endin'. Guess I'll have ta make up m' own."
"If you don't mind, may I ask where you got those scars?" he inquired.
"Old battl's," Sweden murmured, continuing to wash his shirt.
He sounded like he was hiding something. Were the scars from Denmark perhaps? Finland did say that they fought a lot. "It must be hard fighting alone," Germany said, taking his eyes off the ground and glancing over at Sweden.
Sweden returned with that vacant, doll-like stare, but there was something about the way his eyebrows raised that seemed to show that he was at least thinking about it. "Ja, it is," he finally muttered.
"I'm not pretending to know what you've been through, but I want you to understand that I'll always be your friend. You can trust me." Germany held out his hand in a sign of friendship.
Sweden looked at his outstretched hand in a sorrowful gaze. He looked confused and like he was arguing with himself on whether or not to accept, but his fingers hesitantly inched forward, then firmly grasped Germany's hand, a brief sigh of relief escaping his lips.
Germany gave a pleasant smile, and he was happy to see that Sweden at least tried to return the favor.
Germany got some water while Sweden finished washing his clothes and they both returned to camp. Germany handed out MRE's to everyone and they made hot chocolate with the water Germany brought back. Finland's had a pack of gum which he shared with the rest of them.
They talked for a while until they began to get tired. Finland was assigned to keep watch, but Germany stayed awake, watching the embers burn down. He had learned to overlook the fact that Sweden and Finland had been allied with Denmark, and now trusted the two Nords, finally accepting Sweden as a friend.
Germany, however, still knew nothing about Sweden; his interests, goals, ambitions, or preferences. The thing that bothered Germany the worst, was that he knew absolutely nothing about Sweden's personality. On the outside, Sweden seemed almost like a puppet; it was impossible to tell what he was thinking behind that vacant gaze.
Over the past week, Germany had done all he could to find out more about Sweden–everything except asking Finland. He didn't see how Finland could know anything about the mysterious man when Germany had such a hard time reading him, but after hours of contemplating and when the others were fast asleep, he finally resigned, getting up to sit by Finland on the frozen ground.
"Finland, I wanted to ask you something about Sweden," Germany said quietly.
The young blonde turned his dazzling eyes Germany's direction. Behind their childish innocence hid a great understanding, but at the moment, Finland seemed reluctant and fearful, as if he didn't want to betray Sweden's secrets, whatever they may be.
"I don't think that Mr. Sweden would appreciate me talking about him. He always likes to keep to himself," Finland said softly.
"I understand that, but if I am going to work with him to bring down the Union of Kalmar, then I want to know more about him," Germany replied.
The brilliant eyes closed and Finland sighed heavily.
"If you want to know about Sweden, you first have to learn about his past. I feel guilty telling you this, but I guess that you deserve to hear it." Finland readjusted his position on the grass and pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders.
"When I first saw Sweden, I was scared of him. He seemed overpowering and aggressive; he was much taller then me, and he seemed so imposing and cruel. This was back when all the Nords joined together to form a franchise. I had met the other Nords, Iceland and Norway, they seemed friendly on the outside, but I could tell that they were inwardly cruel and selfish.
"I thought that Sweden would be the same way, but when he turned around and noticed me, he gave the most sincere smile. His eyes were gentle and passionate, almost like a caring father or loyal friend, full of life and compassion. He was so kindhearted and playful, I could see that from the way he looked at me.
"Sweden was very quiet; hardly ever talked, only listened. Him and Mr. Denmark were best friends: They supported each other, and cared for another, they did everything together. Back then, Sweden was always smiling, always happy. He would spend time just listening to me and the other Nords. When I gave him the plans for the next product he would always compliment on my design. He always went out of his way to help us and somehow got all his work done as well.
"It seemed perfect. We all worked together, it was always lots of fun and everything was working out well, but then everything changed.
"Denmark changed." Finland's voice carried a tone of resentment as his face darkened.
"He cared only for power and domination. He tried to take control of everything and thought that he should be in charge. Sweden started to get annoyed with Denmark's self proclaimed superiority. He tried to talk to Denmark about it, tried to get him to change, but Denmark never listened. He would just shoot down Sweden's accusations with some humorous comment.
"Then Sweden just stopped smiling, and the kind light in his eyes faded, leaving the disapproving glare that he always has now. Soon they started arguing about everything, whenever they were in the same room they were at each other's throats.
"Then the most terrifying thing happened: they just stopped." Finland paused bitting his lip as if the memory still haunted him. Germany placed a hand on his shoulder and after a deep breath, the young blonde continued.
"No more bickering, no more fighting, they wouldn't even look at each other. Denmark spent all his time with Norway and Iceland, leaving Sweden alone.
"I had no clue what to do about it. I tried to help, but they just ignored me. Denmark didn't think that there was a problem and Sweden thought that he could handle it alone. I felt so worthless, like nothing I did ever made a difference.
"I was so scared. It got to the point were Denmark would hurt Sweden whenever something went wrong, just take all his anger out on him. No matter how bad it got, Sweden would never strike back. I think that he still hoped that things could go back to the way they were." Finland stopped as he began chocking back tears.
"I should have...done something more. I still feel guilty when I...remember all those times he passed by me, and I never said a word."
Finland hid his face in the blanket, and wiped his tears on his sleeve. Germany hesitantly reached over placed his arm on Finland's back, then the young child clung to him in a tight hug, gently shaking with sobs. Germany recoiled slightly, but slowly relaxed, allowing Finland to continue hugging him.
"Please Germany, please help Sweden. I couldn't do anything, but maybe you can. Mr. Sweden is still a very kind person, he's just to scared to show it. He thinks that if he opens up his heart to someone, he'll just get burned like he did with Denmark. Please, prove him wrong. Show him that he can trust people. Please."
Germany didn't answer, he just held Finland until he fell asleep. Suddenly all his problems seemed to be irrelevant: Italy's strange habits, Britain's bad food, America's unhealthy diet. Sweden had much bigger problems then figuring out how to make France and Britain stop arguing.
He carefully placed Finland on the ground, wrapping the blanket around him again, then returned to his bedroll where he silently kept watch, covered in his wool blanket to stave off the cold.