Hetalia does not belong to me. Neither do any of the countries mentioned. Get back to me after 'World Domination Phase 3' is complete.
* Quick note: a section written in italics represents inner dialogue or a memory.
Tired of Waiting
Canada was torn between laughter and worried fluster over Prussia. He wanted to laugh at the indignant expression plastered across his face but he was worried because Denmark was wielding a rather large axe and standing between them.
"Seriously? Seriously? Not awesome!" Prussia shouted with his arms thrown towards the clouds.
Denmark growled and tugged Canada a little further behind the protection of his broad shoulders.
"Yeah, seriously. Who the fuck do you think you are?"
"Königreich Preußen, of course," said Prussia in bland monotone as he studied his nails in a demonstration of his distaste.
"Bastard," snarled Denmark as he stepped forward. "You were forcing yourself on 'im, weren't you?"
"Of course not! I was just going to kiss him, that's all. No tongue; Scout's honour." Prussia gave him a salute to flaunt his crossed fingers. Canada snorted under his breath while Denmark growled again.
Denmark swung his axe through the air without warning and Prussia had to crouch to avoid the weapon; just avoiding the sharpened edge. Canada managed to clutch his arm and knock the axe off course. He was lifted off the ground for his trouble and he was almost positive that the wound on his middle finger had been torn open again. Prussia touched the top of his head with a shocked gasp as if to be sure that it was still attached. Denmark glanced down at the smaller nation clinging to him and raised an eyebrow.
"Yes?"
"Ummm... Denmark, I think that you might be overreacting a little bit. Just a little," Canada stuttered and pointedly ignored Prussia's outcry of 'a little bit?'.
"Overreacting? I do not understand. Are you telling me that you wanted a kiss from tha' creep?" Canada flushed at the question and averted his eyes.
"That's not the point," Canada mumbled. Denmark frowned as Canada changed the subject. "The point is that you are waving an axe around the garden at a World Conference."
"I am protecting you," Denmark said with a shrug of his shoulders.
"From what?"
"From him!" Denmark pointed his axe at Prussia and Prussia bounced backwards out of reach with a hiss. Canada sighed and held his temples against the onslaught of a headache; dealing with Denmark had always been an exercise in patience. He meant well, most of the time, but had trouble seeing points of view beside his own. He was stubborn and direct, which was both a strength and a weakness depending on the situation. He could be quite charming and an excellent companion but he was brash and violent when upset. He was a wonderful friend to have and an awful enemy to make.
"... Alright, so you were protecting me. Why?"
"Well," Denmark stammered; flustered. "You see... There's this thing, and..."
Prussia smirked and crossed his arms over his chest with satisfaction.
"Go on, tell him, Denmark. Tell him all about your little... Whoa!" Prussia was interrupted when Denmark twirled towards him again with a bellow and raised the axe over his head. Prussia stumbled backwards but Norway appeared out of nowhere before Canada could step between the two nations. He stepped in front of Denmark without flinching and stared up at him Denmark without blinking. His expression was blank. Denmark stared back at him and some sort of silent understanding passed between them.
After a moment, Denmark let the axe tumble to the ground and managed a sheepish grin for Norway. He leaned on the smaller nation with all of his weight and began to chuckle. Canada locked sights with Norway but he just shrugged his shoulders without changing his strange, detached expression.
"This must be what going mad feels like," Denmark chortled as he straightened. He ruffled his with affection but Norway slapped his hand. He turned to Prussia with narrowed eyes.
"I'm pretty sure you've always been nuts," Prussia snorted.
"Shut up," Denmark growled and tapped his axe with the edge of his boot to prove a point. "Unless?"
"No, no, no! That's fine! We're fine!" Prussia started waving his hands in frantic motions.
Denmark grunted and ignored Prussia in favour of the blonde nation. Canada was still tucked behind him. He bent down on one knee and clasped his shoulders with a slight shake.
"If he touches you again I will hack his motherfucking balls off. Alright?"
Canada felt the corners of his mouth twitch and had to stifle the smile out of respect for his honest offer of camaraderie. He could see Prussia blanche from behind Denmark and had to work even harder to quash the smile.
"Alright, and thank you, I think..."
Denmark grinned and went to lean on the other nation but Norway swatted at him and stepped forward to grasp his hand. Canada was surprised as he massaged his fingers until he found the one that had indeed started bleeding again. Norway had noticed. He slipped a sticking plaster from his pocket and wrapped it around his finger. Canada supposed that it would be essential to bring a first aid kit along if you spent most of your time with Denmark.
Norway held his hand for another moment longer and stared intently at him before letting go. Canada could not help but feel that Norway had just told him something very important, but he did not know what it was.
He gave him a bashful smile of appreciation before he turned back to Prussia and began walking towards the exit.
"'Alright'? What the hell does 'alright' mean?" Prussia was still focused on the threat to his genitalia.
"It means that you should watch yourself. And don't worry, you big baby," Canada reached between his legs and grabbed the front of Prussia's jeans in a suggestive manner. "They're still there. For now."
Canada kept walking as Prussia spluttered behind him.
Realizing that he did not want to be left alone in the garden with Denmark, he rushed to catch up and nudged Canada when he did. He muttered something under his breath and Canada laughed with a shake of his head and rested his bandaged hand on his shoulder in apology.
"I knew there was a reason we liked him," Denmark said to Norway, throwing an arm around him and cackling; he enjoyed a good threat as much as anyone. Perhaps Canada did not need his protection as much as he had thought when it was clear that Prussia was hopelessly wrapped around his little finger. Prussia just did not know it yet. Norway snorted lightly.
"Yeah, yeah, I know. Me too," Denmark answered.
The two nations watched as Canada left the garden with Prussia; the latter blustering through the courtyard while Canada took quiet, measured steps. He would have moved completely silently if he was not ribbing Prussia and laughing breathlessly.
His blonde curls fluttered in the wind and he tucked one behind his ear in habit. He was smiling and animated and the corners of his eyes crinkled in pleasure.
It was part of his charm that he had no idea how striking he could be.
Watching his feet shift gracefully over the grass, Denmark was reminded of the first time he had laid eyes on the mysterious man.
It was late fall when he stepped off the boat and onto shore; immediately setting off towards the trees with his axe resting on his shoulder and leaving the others to bring the packs. Denmark could feel the settlement like a pulsing beacon in this strange land. As he stepped one foot in front of the other towards his people, Denmark could also feel the eyes of another following him.
He shifted under his furs and shivered slightly. The frost was setting in. They would probably have to stay in Vinland for the winter months.
Denmark stopped short, hearing a twig snap in the forest and a light curse in a foreign language. Sighing, he thrust his axe in the general direction of the noise.
"Alright! Out with you! I haven't got all day!"
He waited while a figure stepped out from behind a tree and into the light. It was a young boy of about eight years with skin as pale as the frost on the trees. His striking eyes were narrowed in apprehension. He had a mane of tangled blond hair; bird feathers and beads braided throughout. He wore some furs, but not nearly as many as he should be, and his bare feet looked as if they had cracked in the cold. Denmark watched as the boy flexed his toes and buried them in the dirt. In his hand he held a strange wooden weapon above his shoulder. It was a long, smoothed branch with a peg carved at the end furthest from the wrist; holding the feathered end of what looked to be a thin wooden spear of five feet. His fingers were slipped through a loop at the front of the weapon and loosely held the sharpened edge of the spear in place.
Denmark motioned the boy forward and saw him raise the contraption before taking two cautious steps forward, hovering each foot over the ground before gently setting it down and shifting the weight evenly. Denmark was impressed that the stranger was able to do this without making any noise and could understand the curse from earlier; it had been a stupid mistake.
"Look, kid," Denmark said, resting his axe on the soil. "What the hell do you think you're going to do with that kindling? See this?" He kicked the blade of his axe flippantly. "This is iron. I'll fucking cut you in half if you try anything."
The child's eyes suddenly widened.
"Yeah, that's what I thought. Idiot. I ought to–"
Denmark never got to say what he ought to do; at that moment the youth took three running steps towards him and flung the spear using the carved handle with a flick of his wrist, following the movement through with his whole body. The spear whipped past him at an impossible speed and lodged itself wetly in something behind the Viking. Denmark turned to see the twitching form of what looked like a cross between a small bear and a weasel. It was at least seventy pounds and heavily built with wicked looking claws and pointed teeth. The spear was lodged in the flesh of the creature, coming out clean on the other side.
"A Gulon? Here?"
Denmark looked away from the dying animal to the boy stalking towards him, already notching another spear into place.
"You are… Welcome," the boy said haltingly in Norse. Denmark was surprised to say the least.
"How the hell do you speak my language?"
The stranger moved around him, still eyeing him warily, to the creature. He yanked the spear out of the animal before pulling out a bone knife and slitting the animal's throat; muttering something in another language as he did so. Once the animal was bleeding out, he turned back to Denmark and jabbed his weapon towards him accusingly.
"You are… Lucky… That I was here. Fool," he scoffed. "For language, men talk by fire. I listen. Easy."
Denmark nodded; it made sense that he might pick up a thing or two if the boy had been creeping around the settlement.
"What's that?" Denmark pointed at the weapon resting on his forearm.
"Atlatl," the boy said simply, shrugging.
"It works well."
"Should. Lot's of…Practice."
The child looked back at the creature, and pleased to see it had passed, bent over and wound the legs together with some dried sinew pulled from the folds of his furs. He then hefted the carcass over his shoulder even though he could not weigh much more.
"Look, kid," Denmark started, before being brusquely interrupted.
"I am no… Child. With my people, I am man. A… Warrior. I demand your… Respect, or next time I hit you instead."
The boy, no, man began walking back through the trees; the matted body of the bloodied animal on one shoulder and the wooden weapon held at the ready above the other.
"What's your name?" Denmark called after him. The boy twisted to look at him through the frosted leaves and creased his eyebrows in a look of concentration. In the silence, Denmark could only wonder if there was a translation from his native tongue to Norse. Sure enough, it seemed that there was not.
"You call me… Vinland. To you, this is my name."
Vinland turned back and continued stepping through the forest; his feet sliding through the air and resting quietly on the earth. Soon, he was out of sight.
"A warrior, indeed!" Denmark cackled with his head thrown back, before slapping his axe back over his shoulder and heading again for the beacon that was his people.
Denmark was brought back to the present by Norway tugging lightly on his sleeve for his attention. He grinned down at the smaller nation and Norway rolled his eyes before leading Denmark towards the building as if he were a lost child.
Canada may not need his protection but that did not mean he would not have it.
"Do ya' think rigging Prussia's room to blow would count as cheating?" Denmark asked curiously. Norway 'tsked' and shook his head.
"Yeah, that's what I thought too. Too bad."
England and France hovered at the perimeter of the courtyard, out of view behind a weeping willow. England was biting the edges of his nails absentmindedly and furrowing his brow in thought. France was watching Denmark swagger from the courtyard with Norway at his side and unmistakably leering at the sight. England stopped chewing on his fingernails to say something, only to see that France's interest was elsewhere. He slapped France upside his head with a sigh.
"Oi! Pay attention to me, not their backsides."
"Well, if you would take a step to the left, I could do both."
England wondered yet again why he always seemed to gravitate towards this perverted imbecile. France exhaled and turned towards England, tearing his eyes away from Denmark and Norway.
"But if you insist," France complained.
"I do. It is obvious that South Korea was correct in his information. Did you see the way that insufferable man had his hands all over our Matthew?"
"… Have you noticed that you refer to him as 'ours'?"
His eyes widened and England pressed both of his hands over his mouth in horror. France chuckled at his reaction and England flushed bright red before pointing an accusing finger at France.
"If you tell anyone about this–"
"Yes, yes. No one need ever know that you consider sweet Matthieu to be our love child."
"Francis!"
America had been watching the same exchange from the opposite side of the garden, tucked beneath a rose bush. He had needed to come after South Korea had shouted an unbelievable, implausible statement across the conference room earlier.
The most shocking part was that it was apparently true.
Pressed against the earth, he waited for Denmark and Norway to leave before pushing himself up and creeping along the shrubs towards the exit. This new situation was a lot to absorb and he was on an apparent time limit. He had some planning to do if he wanted to keep his brother all to himself.
"To the Batcave!"
America sped across the courtyard with his arms held aloft like an airplane's wings; humming engine noises and the Batman theme tune under his breath as he went.
Author's Notes:
The true spirit of the Viking Age was daring courage; honour and glory were above all else. Seeing Canada as a warrior would have endeared him to Denmark instantly.
Vinland is considered to be the area first visited and briefly settled by the Norse in the 'new world' or what is now Newfoundland, Canada. The remnants of the settlements date back to approximately 1000 AD and it is thought that there may be other such settlements not yet found. Thus, the Norse (the Danish, the Norwegian, and the Swedish) are the first *known* Europeans to travel to North America.
The animal Canada killed is a wolverine. Wolverines are the largest member of the weasel family and are often noted for their temperament and sharp claws and teeth. Although more likely to keep to themselves, they are vicious if threatened by an invasion of their territory or backed into a corner. A Gulon is a Scandinavian legend/monster, which is thought to be an early account of a wolverine. A Gulon was described as a symbol for gluttony and not considered to be a very nice creature.
An atlatl is an ancient weapon that preceded the bow and arrow. Different versions of the same weapon were actually used the world over at one point or another. It can hurl a spear of between four to nine feet up to an amazing 100 mph. At the time the Denmark is visiting 'Vinland', about 1000 AD, the atlatl was already slowly being replaced by the bow and arrow in the area. Atlatl are still used recreationally today.
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