Disclaimer: We don't own Hetalia . . . just like we didn't in our last story.
A/N: Hey, everyone!
So, Medusa, I gave the 'wild stallion' some sugar. She ate it and ran away before I could tame her. Tee hee! Shut up, Pollux!
Did you know that if you say "orange" really slowly it sounds like "gullible"?
I love Paris in the the springtime. (How many "the's" did you see there?)
Enjoy! Please review!
The Volcano
It took four hours for the nations who were in the building to gather back in the meeting room. They were about fifty in all, some nations had left immediately after the meeting or had been unable to make it in the first place.
Germany stood at the head of the table, listening to the murmuring of the gathered nations. They were whispering to each other about the disappearances. Some shot Norway, Denmark, and Sweden worried glances while others, like Switzerland and Ireland, worried for their loved ones. Finally, Turkey slipped into the meeting room and nodded to Germany. Everyone was gathered. Scotland had yet to be found.
"Can I please have silence?" Germany roared over the gossiping crowd. Silence fell over the nations. "Thank you. Now, five nations have gone missing." A hand shot into the air. "Ja, Hungary?"
"Do we know how they disappeared?" Hungary asked worriedly.
"Nein, we do not know where they are, either," Germany told her. "Any more questions before we move onto the next topic of discussion?"
"Are they like picking us out at random, or are they totally just after one of us?" Poland asked before actually raising his hand.
"We have not found a pattern in the kidnappings yet." Poland lowered his hand, glaring at the Scandinavian nations.
Switzerland raised his hand. "What are we going to do to try and find them?" The German nation had been the one to tell Belgium's brothers she had gone missing. Austria had comforted his friend over the loss of his fiancée.
"That is our next topic of discussion. I have separated us into eight groups." Germany turned the projector on and a list of names appeared on the wall. "Together we will search the island for the missing nations."
South raised her hand, waving it like a child while looking worried about something very important. Smokey had been left in the hotel room because he and Kumajirou had gotten into another fight, ending with Kumajirou threatening to set Canada Geese on the black bear.
"Ja, South?" Germany wondered if he would regret calling on the ex-nation.
"Is it the Vikings again?" South asked in innocent seriousness. "Has anybody seen North?"
"Nein, it is not the Vikings. Has America gone missing?" Germany asked, looking around the meeting room.
"South, can you please not scare people?" America called from the back of the room.
"Big brother?" South made a move to stand on her chair.
"I'm back here, South." America moved to stand beside his sister and brother-in-law. "Don't hurt yourself."
"Are there any more questions?" Germany asked. He continued speaking when no one raised a hand. "Very good. Romano, Austria, Scotland has gone flying out in the smoke. He will join your group when someone informs him."
"Whatever, potato bastard," Romano sighed.
"Wait, we're totally stuck with Prussia?" Poland asked in a panicked voice after reading the list of groups. "I want to, like, switch!"
"Not awesome, Poland!" Prussia glared at his former enemy.
"Yeah, not awesome, creep!" South shot a look at Poland. When the European nation stuck his tongue out at her she retaliated by sticking her own out at him.
"Will you stop acting like children?" Germany roared, stressed beyond belief. Couldn't they see this was a serious situation? Poland pouted and crossed his arms. At least he was in a group with Lithuania.
South jumped and hugged Prussia tightly who patted her back. "Who do y'all think you are, anyway?" she asked.
"Thank you," Germany sighed. "Now, form your groups and move out, be careful of the ash and smoke." He moved to join his own group of Finland, Cyprus, Canada, Taiwan, and Netherlands.
"Do you really think we'll be able to find Iceland?" Finland asked, sending Sweden a worried glance.
"Ja, if he has not somehow left the island, then we will find him. Let's go." Germany led his group out the door. Slowly, the rest of the groups filed out after him.
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Romano was not allowed to drive, end of discussion. After an argument with Austria, the Mediterranean nation had been forced to sit in the passenger seat where he glared out the window pouting. Austria's reasoning was that the ash in the air and Romano's bad driving would kill the nations before they reached Eyjafjallajökull.
Their group of Austria, Romano, Seychelles, Liechtenstein, and Egypt were paired up with Norway's group to search around the erupting volcano. Norway, Estonia, Spain, Mexico, Hong Kong, and Romania followed them closely in their own van.
"I still don't understand why the winged bastard can't just fly down and meet us there," Romano grumbled, keeping his gaze fixed on the passing land.
"I've already explained this, Romano," Austria said as he fiddled with the steering wheel. "We don't know where Scotland is. As far as we know he could be lying in a ditch with a broken wing."
"Great, just another bastard we have to look for." Romano leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms.
"Mr. Austria, do think Ms. Belgium is alright?" Liechtenstein asked. She had been extremely worried for her soon to be sister-in-law ever since Switzerland had told her the news.
"We'll find her soon enough, Liechtenstein." Austria smiled reassuringly in the mirror at the small nation. "Don't worry." Liechtenstein smiled back and looked out the window.
"The volcano has calmed down," Egypt noted from his seat beside Seychelles.
Romano leaned forward to look out the dashboard. It was true, the volcano had stopped spitting fire and was now spewing smoke.
"She's still active," Romano said seriously. "She could blow at any moment."
Austria raised an eyebrow at the remark. "You seem to know quite a bit about volcanoes, Romano," he commented.
"I had freaking Mount Vesuvius erupt on me, of course I do," Romano huffed and leaned back again, pouting.
"Does this childish attitude of yours have to do with not being able to drive?" Austria asked.
"Shut up, you stupid aristocratic bastard!"
"I am correct, then." Austria glanced back at Norway's van then at the volcano. "Do you think this is a safe distance? I don't want to get too close."
"Sì, we shouldn't get any closer than this. We're already putting our lives in jeopardy by walking around outside."
Austria sighed. "Please don't talk back, Romano. I understand and accept that you are team leader, though I have no idea why." He pulled over and parked the van, turning off the ignition.
Romano grumbled under his breath, unbuckling himself and jumping out of the van. He turned back to look at the smoking volcano.
"This one is different," Romano commented. "It doesn't feel normal." He could remember the feeling in the air when Mount Vesuvius had erupted. Eyjafjallajökull felt completely different.
"It's a volcano, how can it be abnormal?" Austria asked as the groups slowly piled out of the van and shut the doors. Norway's group clambered out of their own vehicle behind them.
"How should I know? It just doesn't feel like Vesuvius did."
"Then maybe all volcanoes feel different."
Romano cursed to himself, wishing he had spoken to America about his own volcanoes before leaving the meeting room. Hadn't the North American nation had a huge volcano eruption in Washington? Mount . . . St. Helens, that was it! Besides, Hawaii had plenty of volcanoes too.
Norway's group approached Romano's and Norway nodded to Austria in greeting.
"We'll begin searching on the Southern side here," Norway told them. "Why don't you begin on the Western side? Perhaps Scotland is over there?"
"Sì, good luck." Romano nodded to the Nordic nation had moved toward the Western side of the volcano. Austria noted how he kept giving the volcano strange glances, as though he were trying to solve a puzzle.
Norway nodded once more to Austria then returned to his group, giving them the news. Slowly, the nations separated and began to search the volcano.
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Belgium shivered as she felt Gaul's eyes on her. The realm had an even more predatory look to him than France.
After kidnapping her, Gaul had dragged Belgium through a portal at the base of Eyjafjallajökull. On the other side they had encountered a realm who looked like Denmark, carrying an axe and a broadsword. The realm had spotted Belgium and instantly started shouting at Gaul. The French realm had shouted him down, stabbing him in the side with a knife before dashing away with Belgium.
"You are a very belle (beautiful) woman," Gaul purred, bringing Belgium back to the present. "I do not see why you are so lonely."
"I . . ." Belgium paused before continuing. "I am engaged. Now, what would you possibly want with me?"
"Like I said, you are a very belle woman. I rather enjoy belle women. Have you never looked at a man and thought 'my, he is very beau'?" Gaul asked, smirking over his glass of wine.
"And like I said." Belgium glared at the realm. "I am engaged. I do not look at men and think they are handsome. I already have plans for marriage. I would not be disloyal to my fiancé."
"Marriage is such a trivial thing," Gaul snorted. "I try not to deal with it."
"Maybe because you are a crotchety old man," Belgium snapped.
"I am not old." Gaul stood, towering over Belgium. "I am actually rather young. Quite fit, really. Of course, I have had my share of fun, but I would love some more."
Belgium looked over him critically. "I do not think I want to hear your version of 'fun'."
"Why not? You might enjoy it, in fact." Gaul leaned forward, his teeth flashing in a feral grin. "Amuse me."
Belgium felt her blood run cold as she looked straight into Gaul's orange eyes. "Neem me niet kwalijk? (Excuse me?)" she asked.
"Amuse me," Gaul barely whispered the repeated words.
"I do not know what you want with me, but I will not have your actions." Belgium stepped back, away from Gaul. The realm chuckled darkly and grabbed her arm.
"I do not believe that was a request." Gaul swiftly hoisted Belgium over his shoulder and began to walk out of the den. Belgium's eyes widened in realization and she began to struggle wildly in his grip.
"Laat me gaan! (Let me go!)" Belgium screeched, terrified.
Gaul only laughed lightly as his prize thrashed in his grip.
"You better accept it, belle, you are here to stay."
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Of all the rude awakenings England had ever had in his life, this had to constitute as the worst, even worse than the time France had poured wine on him at two in the morning.
When England opened his eyes he was faced with a large, black bear-like dog sitting on his chest. It took his brain a moment to process the dog as a grim, a dog that haunted the graveyards of churches and symbolized death. With that realization, England started shouting in surprise and fear.
"Britannia?" Emerald Isle opened the door and poked his head in. He grinned at the sight of the grim on his 'little brother's' chest. Ever since they had met at a young age that had been the grim's favorite way of waking his friend up.
"Get it off! Get it off!" England shouted, tossing his head. He wished the Celtic realms had removed the circlet so he could escape from this cursed creature. The grim whined and cocked his head. It looked between England and Emerald Isle, searching for an answer. Why wasn't Britannia laughing and scratching his ears?
"It's you're grim, Britannia," Emerald Isle said. "Come here, Pothos." He held a hand out to the grim. Pothos' tail wagged happily and the grim leapt off the panicking England to trot over to Emerald Isle.
"Grims are evil! Why would I want one?" England asked, close to tears. He counted himself lucky the grim hadn't decided to attack him.
"Pothos isn't evil," Emerald Isle told him. "He's actually a very good boy. Now faes are a downright pain in the ass, all they do is bite you."
"I am a friend with the fae, they cared for me before Scotland found me. There is no way that bloody creature could be good." Pothos whined and glanced up at Emerald Isle sadly. Why was his friend acting this way?
"Don't listen to him, Pothos." Emerald Isle rubbed Pothos' head soothingly. "He's just a little mixed up right now. Maybe if you hang out with him for a while he'll remember everything."
Pothos' red eyes lit up mischievously and he cocked his head, his tail swishing back and forth slowly. Emerald Isle smiled and nodded at him. Grims had the natural talent to cause people to see visions. It was one of the reasons why they were considered such bad luck.
"I'll leave you two alone for now." Emerald Isle straightened up and left the room, shutting the door behind him.
"Wait! What? You're going to leave me alone with this bloody thing?" England panicked as Pothos trotted to his bedside. The grim laid its head on the bed beside England's head, staring at him with hypnotic red eyes. England froze as he thought he saw something moving in the grim's eyes.
Emerald Isle heard a shout of fear and surprise emitted from England's room.
"Sounds like he's getting a few history lessons," Emerald Isle said, glancing over his shoulder before continuing down the hall.
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Iceland sneaked down the dark hallway, his ears twitching at every sound the old house made. He stopped outside a half open door and peeked in. Kalmar sat in an armchair staring into the dancing flames of the fire. A knife was clutched in his right hand like a lifeline. His orange eyes were filled with a deep sorrow Iceland had never seen before. Behind him, on a tall shelf packed with books, were gold letters.
Together we rise, together we stand, together we fall.
Iceland crouched in the shadows beside the door, wondering what Atlantis had wanted him to see.
"I can hear ya out there," Kalmar said in a hoarse voice. "C'me in h're, Icy." Iceland froze, silently praying Kalmar hadn't actually heard him. "Icy . . . Iceland . . . my precious lillebror. C'me h're."
Gulping, Iceland stood and slowly moved into the library to stand before Kalmar. The Nordic realm didn't look angry but sad, depressed even. He no longer wore a grin, but a haunted look that marred his natural beauty.
"It was all Soviet's fault," Kalmar told Iceland.
"What?" Iceland asked, wondering if the realm was drunk.
"I l'ved my br'thers m're th'n ya underst'nd. I would n'ver h've h'rt th'm bef're Soviet t'lked ta me." Kalmar looked down at the knife in his sadly. "He told me th't if we k'lled a realm th'n we would get str'nger."
Iceland eyed the knife cautiously and took a step back. "So, you killed all your brothers because of what Soviet told you?" he asked. Why was Kalmar telling him this?
"I didn't mean ta do it." A tear trailed down Kalmar's cheek. "Sw'de was shouting at me fer sp'lling d'nner. I j'st gr'bbed th's kn'fe and st'bbed him. The oth'rs w're sc'red at f'rst, but they got ov'r it."
"They just accepted that you murdered him?" Iceland gaped at Kalmar.
"J-Ja, we l'ved each oth'r. They kn'w I didn't mean ta do it. B-But . . . years l'ter, I got h'ngry again. I w'nted power. So I k'lled F'nny with the s'me kn'fe."
"You killed Finland?" Iceland squeaked. "Did you kill Norway after?"
"Ja." Kalmar nodded. The tears were streaming down his cheeks now. "I k'lled him th'rty years l'ter. Ice and I w're l'ft al'ne aft'r th't."
"You did this because you wanted power?" Iceland whispered. He couldn't imagine Denmark killing his own brothers just for power.
"I need'd p'wer. K'lling was l'ke a dr'g, it got add'cting. Icy was the w'rst." Kalmar ran a hand through his spiked hair, fisting it and flinching.
"What do you mean?" Iceland asked, terrified.
"I-I wait'd fer tw'nty-f've years aft'r I k'lled Nor. I got h'ngry again. I w'nt ta Icy's room, and he was wait'ng fer me. He kn'w it was going ta h'ppen."
"What did he say?" Iceland was picturing himself in the same scenario, but with Denmark and not Kalmar.
"He j'st look'd at me. Th'n he laid on the bed and said 'do it'." Kalmar broke down into sobs, clenching the knife tighter.
Iceland took another step back. "I need to get out of here," he whispered, turning and darting from the room.
"Icy!" Iceland heard footsteps following him. Something fell to the floor with a dull clunk, it sounded like the knife.
Iceland glanced over his shoulder once before he reached the front door. Grabbing the door handle, he yanked on it and cursed when he noticed the deadbolt was locked. He fumbled quickly with the lock. A hand fell heavily onto his shoulder. Iceland froze.
"Please, stay w'th me unt'l . . ." Kalmar pleaded.
"Until what?" Iceland asked in a whisper.
"Unt'l I can join my br'thers . . . if they'll st'll h've me."
"No!" Iceland struggled with the deadbolt. "I can't stay here. I'm not your brother."
A firm hand grabbed Iceland's wrist. When Iceland turned he saw with fear that Kalmar's depressed face had turned dark.
"Yer staying," Kalmar snarled.
"No, I'm not." Iceland twisted his wrist in Kalmar's tight grip. What if the realm decided that he was hungry again and decided to kill him this time?
"I thought Moder had taught ya enough. I guess she didn't." Kalmar grabbed one of the earrings and gave it a sharp tug.
Iceland yelped and grabbed Kalmar's wrist. "I told you, my ears are sensitive."
"That's why I pierc'd th'm." Kalmar released the earring and grabbed Iceland's free wrist.
"Let me go! I'm not your brother!" Iceland struggled in Kalmar's grip, almost breaking free. Growling, Kalmar turned and dragged Iceland away from the door and down the hall. "Where are you taking me?" Iceland jerked against his captor.
Kalmar kicked a door open and dragged Iceland in. The room was dark, no lights inside, with only a four-poster bed in the corner. The realm threw Iceland onto the bed and drew his broadsword. Iceland yelped in fear, covering his head until he heard the sound of tearing sheets. Peeking over his hands, he saw Kalmar cutting the bed's sheets into long strips. Once he was finished, Kalmar lowered the broadsword to Iceland's throat.
"Sit at the headboard w'th yer wr'sts at the b'dposts," Kalmar ordered in a dangerous voice.
"What?" Iceland stared at Kalmar, terrified. Was he going to tie him up then kill him?
"Ta the head of the bed," Kalmar growled.
Slowly, Iceland scooted back on the bed until he bumped into the old oak headboard. He raised his shaking hands to the bedposts.
"What are you doing?" Iceland asked quietly.
"M'king s're ya don't leave." Kalmar set the broadsword aside and grabbed a strip of cloth. He bound Iceland's right wrist to the bedpost tightly.
"I'm not even your brother." Iceland quickly pulled his other wrist away from the bedpost, trying to keep it away from Kalmar, but it was futile. Kalmar seized the wrist and bound it tightly to the other bedpost. He then continued to bind Iceland's ankles, knees, and thighs together. He made sure to tie Iceland's tail beside his legs.
"Why do you want me so badly?" Iceland looked up at Kalmar with tears in his eyes.
"I don't w'nt ya. I w'nt my Icy," Kalmar whispered. "But I can't let ya go, not now."
Iceland tugged at his bonds but they were too tight. He could barely move an inch in the sheets and the knots were tight enough that they nearly cut off his circulation.
"I want my bræður," Iceland whimpered.
"I do too. But if I let ya go, th'n Soviet w'll k'll ya." Kalmar kissed Iceland's forehead in a brotherly manner. "I'll br'ng ya d'nner l'ter." He left the room, locking the door behind him.
Iceland was left in the pitch black room, unable to escape or move. Suddenly, he felt something brush against his legs. The young Nordic nation froze in fear. He felt the brush again, this time against his cheek. That was it for him. Iceland thrashed against his bonds in pure terror.
"Kalmar!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. In all his terrified shouting, Iceland thought he heard a whisper.
"Please, help storebror."
A/N: How many of you actually tried to say "orange?"
There were two "the's". Your brain will remove the second "the" from your sight because it doesn't need to be there.
Mount St Helens last erupted in 2008. The worst eruption was in 1980, killing 57 people.
Mount Vesuvius erupted on Pompeii, preserving the civilization there for us to see.
Pompeii was near Naples, Italy.
Grim's are from English folklore, they haunted graveyards. They didn't actually cause visions, we made that part up.
Pothos is another name for Devil's Ivy, Epipremnum aureum. Don't eat Dumbcane! It's poisonous. Easter Lilies will kill your cats! I'm a horticulture major. :D
Kalmar is such a contradictory character! It's making my head spin!