Chapter Eight, Part Two

His hands shook. They never shook, not when it came to doing what needed to be done, but this time . . . they shook.

Tino closed his eyes and sought to center himself. He had to. For America's sake and Denmark's.

'It's okay, Finnie,' he told himself, inhaling deep breath after deep breath. 'It's okay. I can do this. I know I can. It isn't the first time I've had to do something like this, but I hope to God it's the last. The world can't keep carrying on like this.'

The moment Emil had told him and Berwald that Prussia was at Matthias's door, his heart rate had been the rate of a speeding locomotive. He'd fortunately been in Stockholm when Emil arrived after America's visit to his country. The younger nation was still shaken from his talks with their reclusive relative.

'And I don't blame him,' Tino told himself. 'America isn't looking good. He hasn't smiled in I don't know how long. It's enough to scare and shake up anyone. If only I hadn't told France and England that he existed. Maybe, just maybe we could have had a different kind of family . . .'

The new world was unlike anything Tino had seen for several centuries. The trees grew tall and thick, and the air was fresher in his lungs. Birds he couldn't identify chirped and screeched from the branches high above their heads.

Everything looked and sounded familiar even in its foreign strangeness. A shiver of fear and uncertainty hit him, and he looked for Sweden.

The taller blond stood sever feet away, speaking with a few of his fellow soldiers meant to guard their home. Most of the soldiers tended to ignore him, too, as he wasn't an actual country but a territory, a pawn in the wars they waged against other nations.

'I know that isn't how Sve views me,' he told himself, 'but he's about as powerless as I am when it comes to kings and power plays.'

His thoughts weren't enough to lift his spirits nor to ease the aches in his body. The heat of the sun also didn't much beyond making him sweat, uncomfortable, and lethargic.

'But it's still beautiful here,' he mused, his gaze going back to the trees . . . only for his eyes to bulge upon seeing a set of sharp blue eyes gazing directly at him, and Tino's jaw dropped.

The person staring back at him was a child.

Dirt lined the child's face and streaked the short-cut, blond hair. The child stared as Tino gaped and struggled to something, anything, and, by the time he managed to make a sound, the child disappeared.

His phone buzzing brought Tino out of his reverie. A quick glance through teary-blurred eyes told him it was Denmark texting him. he and Prussia were close to the main embassy.

'If only the world could stop being so cruel,' he told himself. 'Then we wouldn't have to do this. but here we are, keeping secrets that will change the entire world. I just hope and pray it will be for the better.'

He inhaled a steadying and calming breath. Tino glanced around, checking nearby flagpoles for the direction and speed of the wind. With practiced ease, he put his sniper's rifle together, taking into account the extra weight needed for the silencer.

"Mer likar illa viđ ƥetta."

"Me, neither, Emil," he muttered, lining up his scope. It wasn't long before Denmark and Prussia's cars came into view. "Now, I just need a clear shot of the, er, desired location."

Despite his misgivings, despite the heaviness in his heart over the whole situation, when Tino saw the shot he wanted to take, he smirked.

And fired.

xXx-Dark-Intentions-xXx

Sweden glanced at the photos Finland and Denmark sent him, a bit of a smile playing about his lips. Finland's had the caption of "It's done" in Finnish while Denmark' had a string of laughing emojis . . . the Dane undoubtedly waited until he was alone before losing all control over his laughter.

Norway peered over his shoulder, tsked, and shook his head as thought annoyed. The Swede, however, knew what signs to look for in the Norwegian when it came to emotions. Those lavender-blue eyes sparkled with his amusement. Berwald raised an eyebrow at him.

"Did y' sug'est this?" He pointed to Tino's picture. Not that he'd be surprised or angry if Lukas had. Neither he nor Matthias knew what sarcasm was until they'd met their Norwegian brother.

To his inquiry, Lukas offered a half-shrug along with a simple, "Perhaps."

"Any re'son why?" Berwald suspected he knew the reason, if any existed, and, with the Norwegian, there was always a reason for why he chose to do the things he did.

Lukas glanced in the direction where Emil, Viktor*, and Petere were, last Berwald knew, reading quietly. The micronations were not as rambunctious and argumentative with each other as of late, and Emil . . . Berwald frowned, his concern for the youngest Nordic nation the strongest.

"Because," came the simple statement, "it's up to us . . . all of us . . . to make our world a better place. Not just one or some of us but all . . . Peter and Viktor deserve so much more, and if not for America, Peter would be even more on the receiving end of England's ire. Some things have changed. Some have not." Lukas exhaled. "And Prussia, while guilty of some things, many things, also had no idea what America went through with England before and during his revolution. America never told anyone until he told us." His lavender-blue eyes took on a hardened gleam, one Berwald recognized all too well from their Viking days. "Prussia isn't a nation anymore, but he is dear to both Alfred and Matthias. Alfred isn't ready to speak to Gilbert. Not just yet. Anything more would be unnecessary."

"Most you've ever spok'n in a while," Berwald remarked. "Must be ser'ous."

"It is," Lukas confirmed, exhaling. "I truly don't want Alfred to go through with his plans."

"Me, neither," Berwald sighed, a heavy sadness blanketing him. "Just not sure what else t' do."

"Not sure what else to do about what?"

Berwald's heart leapt in his chest at unexpectedly hearing Peter's voice. The micronation stood in the door to the kitchen, a sad and concerned expression on his face. "Are you talking about America again?"

"We are," Lukas confirmed.

"What br'ngs you in here, Peter?"

"I cam for a snack for Uncle Emil, Viktor, and me," the boy answered, stepping forward. His expression turned even sadder, and he approached Berwald. "And I overheard you. I'm sorry for eavesdropping."

"It's ok'y," Berwald said. He held his arms out to his son.

"I'll get the snacks," Lukas murmured.

"I also know what it's like to not have anyone take you seriously," Peter continued. He hugged Berwald back. "It hurts. A lot. And I know a lot of countries don't always take America seriously unless it suits them to do so."

"Some would say America doesn't behave in a way to be taken seriously," Lukas pointed out.

"Why behave in a way no one's going to believe?" Peter asked.

That stopped Lukas and Berwald both. The Norwegian stared at the micronation for several minutes before his eyes started to glitter with an all too familiar glint. His lips turned upward ever so slightly into a smirk, and he regarded Berwald.

"Peter's right," he said. "When will Tino be home?"

"Any min'te."

"Good." He handed Peter a package of cookies. "Will you tell Emil I would like to speak with him?"

"Of course." Peter took the cookies and headed back into the living area. Lukas retrieved his phone, and his fingers flew across the screen.

"Text'ng Matthias?"

"Yes. I have a plan."

Berwald raised an eyebrow and smiled a little himself.

'This will be good.'

xXx-Dark-Intentions-xXx

Bonus scene

Ludwig stood on his porch, all bundled up for the weather. In his right hand, he held a cup of coffee. In the other was a copy of the paper from Denmark. He sipped on his coffee as he waited for his brother to return.

He didn't have to wait long. A black Mercedes Benz pulled into the drive, and the driver killed the engine. Gilbert emerged a few second later, a sour expression on his face.

"I take it you had no luck," Ludwig remarked.

"I got shot in the ass," Gilbert growled. "Probably by Tino, no less. They know something, bruder. They know something, and they're not saying vhat it is.

"You vere shot in the ass?"

"Ja, I vas. Matthias probably has pictures. Asshole." Gilbert paused when he saw the paper and the coffee mug. "I've never seen that mug before. And the paper from Copenhagen?"

"Gifts from our Danish cousin," Ludwig replied. A mixture of sadness, anger, and hope coursed through him as he handed over the paper. Prussia took it and read, out loud, the two main articles on the front page.

"The United States closes embassies and consulates in the Nordic nations, citing complete structural overhaul. Denmark calls for global conference on the pandemic of bullying. The nation is backed by Norway, Iceland, Sweden, Finland," and his eyes widened, "Ladonia, and Sealand? Bruder, vhat is this?"

"I don't know, bruder, but Denmark says he vould like to host the next vorld meeting."

"Then ve have a chance?" The hope in Gilbert's eyes was almost too much for Ludwig to handle. He nodded.

"Ja. Ve have a chance."

Author's notes:

Chapter is finally completed! I actually finished it last week, but, due to my crazy work schedule, dealing with a greedy funeral home in the Philippines, and trying to get other things done where my dad's death is concerned, it's been crazy.

Some fun facts:

Finland didn't become a nation until 1917, after the revolution in Russia took place. For the longest time, it was a territory of Sweden until Sweden had to concede the land to Russia prior to the U.S. War of 1812. Finland was then the Grand Duchy of Finland, gaining some autonomy, but not much by the time the Bolsheviks came along.

I chose Viktor for the name of Ladonia. When there's an official name for the micronation, I'll change.

Some language notes: Mer likar illa vid is Icelandic for I dislike. I'm learning it through Drops.

Thanks for hanging in there with me, guys! Much appreciated!

ETA: Updated the content just a wee bit as I recently learned the Icelandic word for "this".' Also going to add in about Berwald's remark over Lukas's speech. I'm also learning Norwegian through Innovative Language (Norwegian Class 101), and it's reiterated through in the first few of the beginner series that Norwegians like to keep their speech short and concise. Hence, Berwald's surprise at how much Lukas spoke in one go.

Have a good weekend! Takk!