Berwald's first awakening was a rude one and not how he imagined it to go in the least. His head slammed against the side of the crate making something inside the back of his head snap. Whoever was driving was apparently having no qualms of his packaging, it said fragile in big bold black letters painted on the side of the wooden crate not, "run over every pothole at top speed" on it. The mint bunny was on the other side of it was large and overall adorable.

He had many questions that popped up in his head, one of them being why was he in a dark place? The last he had remembered was bundling up for the long cold winter night ahead and having some of his men keep watch. Not many were happy being bossed around by what they perceived to be a boy but Berwald was their best strategist and fighter. He had earned his leadership position thus their respect. None could, or would argue against him. How embarrassing would it have been if he, the personification of Sweden be seen as not worthy by his own people? Amidst these thoughts, he managed to find his sword which was suspiciously out of its proper sheath. He grabbed it, sliding it back in its sheath right where it belonged by his side. Before he could attempt to plan out an escape, his eyelids started to lower. He fought it, trying to force his eyes open, raising his arms to weakly punch at what he assumed to be the wall. Alas, his programming had other ideas. His systems demanded a forced shutdown in attempts to fix the problem while he was in sleep mode. With no input of his own, his eyes fell shut finally sending him back into the blackness of sleep. The only signs he was still functioning at all where the soft sound of his, "breathing."

When Berwald opened his eyes for a second time, (not that he remembered much of the first time, his memory of his short time being awake partly erased after he went into sleep mode) he came face to face with a woman. He was going to claim her as his- was the first thought inside his head. He's a Viking, he can do whatever he wanted and pleased unless it involved the annoying Dane... Still, even if the Dane had rule over him that didn't mean he would give up. He was planning to fight against the other and beat him up, Sweden would get his freedom from the Danish rule one way or another.

It was a simple fact.

Oddly enough his programming seemed to be going haywire, it was apparent he wasn't supposed to have urgers of wants unless his master asked him of something. It made him huff as if simple programming could keep a Viking warrior at bay. Though it was odd to have memories of being a country, helping lead your clan to victory then all of a sudden be somewhere else entirely. Here in this short green grassy area with the hot sun up above beating down on him. Red warning signs appearing behind his closed eyelids telling him he couldn't break rules that his, "master" set up. No matter what this programming said about her being his, "master or mistress in this case" he would actively go against it. He was Berwald Oxenstierna, clan leader, warrior. No person on this earth could tell him what to do besides himself.

He stepped forward, fingers twitching as if planning on reaching out to grab her only to freeze. He had been staring at her all this time while in deep thought, studying her and he couldn't help but notice a few things. (As one does while intently studying a person...) Her hair was long, longer then most village women, she smelled of sweet lavender a plant they rarely if ever got a hold of. The pure white dress she wore had similarities with the dress his people's goddess Freya wore. She was almost perfect, her skin may not have been pale white as most Viking men praised but... His hand reached out grabbing a lock of her hair with a rare gentleness, he didn't show to just any stranger. His eyes sparkled at seeing just how long and lustrous it was. He was so focused on the task at hand he didn't notice her stiffening in shock.

"Pretty. Smells good too. Has wide hips..." he muttered to himself. Letting go of her hair going back to studying her, wondering if this was a sign from the gods. She was strong he could see it in her eyes and the way she stood up against him. He was sure if there was an invasion she would take the closest thing to her and use it to fight off invaders from her homeland. Even now with his strange presence, she looked ready to fight against him if he made any attempt of wrongdoings. He, unlike many unwary folks, took notice of the gardening tool near her home. If she so wished she could lunge for it and use it to bash his skull in.

This Maria Collins would be the perfect wife, strong, smart, capable with her hands. She even had child-bearing hips, what more could a simple Viking ask for?

"Do you own this land?" He asked to figure out if she was already wedded or if her family was searching for a strong family to ally themselves with. He would eagerly speak with her father on marriage plans if she deemed him worthy enough for her hand. His clan had been growing suspicious of him not taking a wife and he wished to quell those thoughts and soon. He didn't need them to start making fun of his marital status and lose respect in them. Sure it could be seen as poking fun at first at their leader but that is how all things spiraled out of control. They'd poke fun at one another until someone goes too far then it's too late to stop it which leads to losing respect hurt feelings and many other things he's watched unfold from before.

He nodded his head at her answer, surprised once learning she owned and worked this land on her own. He hoped she had at least some form of farmhand to help her this area was large, it would need more than her to care for it.

That's when Berwald decided he would court her, it would be beneficial for the both of them. She was in need of a protector and he needed someone to call wife to keep his men from wondering. If Maria's father ever appeared Berwald would ask him formally for her hand in marriage as was right and proper to do so. It may have been a cause of gossip for a man to be living with an unmarried woman but he couldn't leave her alone. Besides his own morals, the thought of leaving made annoying red warning signs appear in his mind again. It was starting to irritate him having something in his head trying to corral his thoughts

Well if he was going to break some proper customs along the way then he might as well go all out and write her a love poem. It would be best to hide that from his men they would surely have his head thinking he used magic to convince her to marry him. It only seemed right, this woman who made him think of Freya being given a love pome, Freya greatly enjoyed reading them maybe Maria would as well? Besides that he wasn't sure what else to do, his people rarely courted one another, marriages having been planned ahead as a way to make families stronger. He knew he'd have to learn the art of courting if he were to gain her heart. She was of a different kind, and him simply blurting out his wish to marry wouldn't be the best bet even if he wanted too. The Swedish boy didn't seem to take into account of Maria's own thoughts, which would be a very strong no. The reasons were quite obvious in today's time simply being the age gap along with the fact he was a practical stranger to her.

Setting his shield within the box Berwald picked it up following behind after Maria while taking in the open garage and the front porch that held two rocking chairs. His brain was imminently bombarded with questions once he was inside, gazing at the room in confusion at the decoration. His own brain seemed to be able to answer the questions for him without prompting; it was as if he knew the knowledge without remembering how he gained it. That black flat glass thing standing upright on a table? A flat screen tv- the weird square things with all types of colorful buttons- a remote control. He had to keep his eyes away from those things or he would get a mirage, it was with that he focused on the walls seeing many pictures of family and most commonly pictures of Maria with an old man.

He opened his mouth to about to ask who it was when she asked for his age. His brows furrowed in slight confusion, did he mean his countries age or his physical forms age?

"I physically look Sixteen- Who is that?" he asked setting the box on the brown couch and pointing out the picture of an old man, quickly brushing off the age comment wanting to quell his curiosity first. His head was tilted to the side, although he had an idea who this was either a grandfather or an old family friend.

Berwald nodded his head solemnly at learning of the old man's passing, asking how he died. Hearing he died due to an illness only impressed him further, dying that way fighting against one's own body was just as impressive if not more so then in battle. He lowered his head sending a prayer up to the gods that the old man was enjoying his time in the afterlife.

After voicing his thoughts on the old man he felt his heart pang at her tears. He knew what he wanted to do, to hug away her pain but he wasn't sure if that was what she wanted or needed from him. If he was his younger self he would've never openly gone to a crying person to hug them, it would have been far too awkward to do so. Now he was older, he had seen many pass on while he mostly stayed the same. His clan all knew he never aged and he felt his people were grateful for it. He would never die and they could pass on knowing that he was still there that he could watch over them and lead them to an extent. It never stopped the hurt of seeing his companions die even though he was a thousand years old. t was odd giving comfort to a woman he didn't know, who was not a part of his population but he did not hesitate in doing so once his mind was made up. With how long he had lived he knew even the strong felt weak at times; she must have been playing strong for a long time to have lead to this. It must have been hard being alone like this and taking care of this place all by herself. His face darkened wondering where her parents were or her siblings if she had any. Holding her close he patted her back, letting her sob into his shoulder and cling onto him.

It felt like they stayed like that forever, he only let go when she started to move away. She tried to apologize for her outburst and make excuses for it which he wouldn't have. He simply asked if she felt better and learning she was relieved him. He wanted to ask if she was here by herself and when her workers would come but decided to keep his thoughts to himself. He already pried far too much into her business anyway.

Following her to his assigned room he watched her leave, she looked tired. He waited for a moment, listening to her feet shuffle down the hall until he couldn't hear her anymore. He was worried for her but had to stuff that worry down. She needed rest not him barging into her private chambers and asking if she was truly okay.

Staring at the untouched room he wondered how a place could be so clean. The floor, the bed, walls- everything about this room was spotless not even a speck of dust was left behind. It almost felt to clean, as if this room had no purpose of being besides being cleaned. It was a dull room, the walls a light grey while the bed was a pristine white. A dresser sat across from the bed, walking over too it he opened it to find kids clothes. In each drawer, there was a type of clothes for every age group from babies to teenagers. There were many styles but they were all simple in designs and worn out. It was apparent these clothes were used many times.

Moving onto the closet he found hangers to put his clothes upon, there were also a few clothes in it as well folded up and sitting on the shelf above the hangers.

"Åh, jag glömde rutan," (Oh, I forgot the box.) Berwald muttered to himself leaving his room and passing Maria's on the way. He heard her talking to someone but ignored it not wanting to interrupt her. Grabbing the box he went back to his room as quickly and quietly as possible shutting the door behind him. Setting the box on the bed he grabbed some of the clothes that were inside. Holding the article up against him he frowned noticing they were too big. They weren't even practical for his harsh winters, sure the coat had long sleeves but where were the other layers, the Viking side of his head whispered in worry.

"Vad gör jag med detta," (What do I do with this?) he said to himself, putting the clothes up on the hangers. At the words that came out of his mouth he blinked rapidly, he didn't notice it before but when speaking to Maria he had been speaking in English.

A language he didn't know...

Sitting on the other side of the bed he began to take the clothes out of the box unfolding them to stare at and see if they would fit before sighing deeply when noticing the size then hanging them up. At this rate, he would be stuck wearing his blue tunic until she took him shopping...

After a few minutes of repeating this process, his clothes were finally away leaving him with many cans of some sort of food. He had no clue what it was so left them inside the box along with a black marker. Sighing deeply he rubbed the back of his neck brows furrowed in thought. He started to actively talk out loud to listen to the two languages wondering if he could go back and forth between them easily.

"What has happened to me?"

"Jag vet inte hur jag kan prata engelska." (I don't know how I can speak english)

"How did I not realize I was speaking English before."

After a while of going back and forth saying his questions in English and Swedish, he had a headache. It had also been a while since he had seen Maria and he may have wondered what she was up too. The floor creaked as he stood up, silently making his way out of the room then towards the room where he could hear her giggling.

Berwald stared at Maria through the crack of her door watching over her, he was simply curious about what she was doing and didn't see how this could be seen as creepy. After how hard she cried he would've expected her to be tired out and sleeping. She went against all of that, it was apparent she was doing something on her laptop...

Seeing the object made contradicting thoughts pop up in his head again only making his headache worst. Huffing lowly at his thoughts he kept his post, watching her smile and laugh at whatever was on screen. It was all oddly endearing watching her hop in place on her bed as something happened on the screen to make her giggle and smile, clapping her hands together in an excited manner.

He pushed the door open slowly poking his head in to make her aware of his presence. "Maria kan vi prata? Kläderna jag har är för stora, de kommer inte att passa." ( Maria can we talk? The clothes I have are too big, they will not fit )

Maria jolted at the sound of his voice a squeak leaving her, staring at him in wide-eyed surprise. Outwardly Berwald's expression stayed the same, while inwardly he sparkled at her adorableness. "Söt..." (Cute...) He whispered under his breath eyes softening at her appearance. She looked like a little-startled rabbit; it was endearing to him, to say the least...

Authors note: SO! Suprise update on this fanfic as well- I don't remember what I was thinking when I wrote this, ( it was another chapter I had squirreled away under a random doc name like 'sngjvjkufjds', yes I know I need better names ) besides wanting to show Viking Sweden's thought process and clues to things that may or may not happen later in the story

and Raven you actually asked one of these questions. I was a bit surprised and flustered at seeing a review as its been a long while since I've gotten one with a question and nice criticism as well I'm very grateful for it!

To simply put it, yes Viking Sweden was only supposed to know Swedish but due to getting his head smacked it messed up a bit of his programming. He's able to speak both English and Swedish as of right now. He also has a few other 'problems' but I'm you can guess what those other problems are by reading it. Hopefully, I'm not being too heavy-handed this time around.

Yes, it was based on a place I lived where I was young, and yes you may call me Princess I don't mind.

Blossom555: I'm planning on sticking to the Nordics but if you're interested in seeing a younger America I plan on it happening in my other story, 'Beating Heart of Stone.'

Also, I know what this may look like to some people but no there is no shipping that will happen with the Nordics, Sweden may try but he's not going to get anywhere. This is purely a family thing unless I decide later for something to happen.