I would like to thank you guys for your kind reviews. This chapter is from Latvia's point of view. I may need some inspiration for the next chapter as I am not certain where I am going to set it yet. I think that I will write one more-cheerful-chapter and then go back to Lithuania and Poland. If you have any thoughts on that feel free to leave a review or pm me. :)

It had been a long climb. Latvia was leaning against Estonia's shoulder, tired and a little afraid. As always, Poland and Sweden were arguing. He did not bother to watch. He was too tired. Besides the sun was in his face, making everything around him hazy. He coughed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he noticed a bright light, which seemed to be moving towards Lithuania. Another light hit against it. A dull clang. Latvia blinked. Not lights, blades in the sun. Lithuania was holding one of them. The other was Finland's. Standing, facing, they held each other at bay. For the present. When time wore on, things might change. A fight. Another fight. Latvia felt his throat grow dry. His muscles were limp and sore. He looked from one face to the other. They all seemed distant, blank, not like his friends at all. Was he dreaming? Sometimes, he wished he were dreaming.

Poland was just standing there, looking as if he wanted to say something, but his lips just fluttered hopelessly like a broken butterfly. His legs were wobbling too. Sweden was not doing anything either, just watching them all through narrowed blue eyes, as if he were looking at old potatoes and trying to figure out if they were completely beyond use.

"Look," Poland said. His voice sounded grainy, forced and dry. "Look, like we don't need this now."

"Ya started it," Sweden said.

"Like, I…"

But Poland did not know how to apologize. He just stood there, open-mouthed. Slowly, Sweden walked towards him. Finland moved along ahead of Sweden, knife still pointed forward. Lithuania first blocked his moves, then relented, falling back, so he stood by Poland's side near the hill's edge. He seemed unsure as how to act, whether to fall into the sway of a warrior or ground himself in diplomacy.

Finland was also uneasy, waiting for a signal from Sweden but not being able to turn his face towards him out of fear of being run through. Desperation was thick in Lithuania's eyes. Latvia could see it. Then his hand was grabbed. He was being pulled away. Looking up, Latvia met the eyes of Estonia, which glimmered cold and green.

"Sit," Estonia said, shoving him down onto the turf, "stay."

Why not? Latvia thought. What use can I be? He reached up his arms towards Estonia, hoping he would stay with him, but the older boy was already running back towards the others. Latvia looked away, not wanting to see what happened, turning to the stones of the hill for comfort, but they were cold company, lined with too many cares to bear the pains of others. He heard blades clashing like wind chimes in a storm. Clinging to himself, he felt dead already, not being able to do anything. He tried to remember a time when he did not feel helpless. That must have been before the Vikings raids, German Domination, before he met Poland or Sweden. Had there even been such a time?

"No!"

A scream. It trembled in the air, young and pained. Was that Estonia? It almost sounded like him, but so shrill. Had he been injured? But, no, they would not hurt Estonia. They could not have hurt him. Latvia's legs sprang up on their own, driving him back to the others. He was sobbing, barely able to breath, choking on the sobs.

Then Latvia saw him. Estonia was lying on the ground on top of Finland, Finland's knife bloodless by his side. Strangely, Lithuania's blade was clean as well, still in his hand. Latvia looked sharply at Lithuania for an explanation, but he seemed to be just as confused.

"Estonia, are you all right?" Finland gasped, from beneath the body of his friend, "Oh, Eesti, I am sorry if we frightened you."

Estonia just clung to him. Is he acting? Latvia wondered. He had never known Estonia to be so ardent.

"I am sorry, Eesti," Finland soothed.

"Don't do that again, Soome," Estonia pleaded, "promise me, you won't do that again."

Finland just shook his head, held tighter. Sweden frowned and lifted them both up, one on either arm, brought them to their feet.

"'Nough of this," Sweden said. Then to Poland and Lithuania, he added. "Ya two can go now. Ya make 'naugh trouble f'r today."

"It was like your f…" Poland began, but Lithuania grabbed his hand.

"Let's go, Polska."

Poland pouted. "Fine."

They left, climbing back down the hill, hand in hand, like they had come. Only there were two less now.

"Should be more careful," Sweden said.

Latvia did not know whom he was talking to. Latvia's stomach began to growl. H realized suddenly that he was hungry, before remembering that he had only nibbled at the cake Lithuania had given him that morning.

"Well, we should probably get inside, right, Mr. Sweden?" Finland said quickly, "after all, Estonia and Latvia are probably starving after journey. I'm a bit hungry myself."

"Ja, and look like it might rain."

"You think? I am not sure. I mean it has got little cloudy, but…I mean, yes most likely. No sense arguing anyway. Um, well, we are going to have fried fish, right? Ja, because Mr. Sweden he said he didn't like my bread. It was too hard, and…and, um, stew was no good either…not sure why…but we're having fish, isn't that exciting? I fished them myself out of lake, lake fish."

Finland spoke rapidly, in his quiet voice, as if he were trying to shove the day's events further back into the past by making many a word stand between. Sweden did not say anything, just stared. Latvia and Estonia nodded to be polite.

"Ya look tired," Sweden said, looking down at Latvia.

"I am!" the boy almost squeaked. He tried his best to compose himself, but Sweden's gaze was harsh and unyielding. It seemed often to Latvia that Sweden had no need of weapon when he had those eyes.

"Ja," Sweden said. Then without warning, he lifted Latvia up into his arms, holding him like a babe. Latvia yelped but Sweden did not pay it any mind. At length, Latvia decided to take advantage of this new eye level and looked about him. They were already on a hill, so a great deal of land could be seen, but he could see even more now. Farmsteads in the distance, more grey hills like this one, and forests perched on the horizon. He saw people walking on the roads. Swedes, he guessed, though of what class, he could not be sure—noble, peasant, clergyman, fool…He guessed that he had not really been paying much attention on the journey there.

After awhile, Latvia turned his eyes forward to where they were going. Sweden's house, a small palace really, probably built up by Swedish nobles to closet their country in, control him, show how much they had done for him, how much he owed. But it was beautiful, almost fairytale like in the delicacy of its structure, flower-bearing vines spiraling up its pale walls—soft, feminine.

When they arrived at the house, Sweden put Latvia down. They all removed their shoes and went in. The floor below their feet was wooden but spread with rag rugs of diverse colors. Without a word, Sweden started frying up the fish. While Finland had them sit down on elegantly carved ebony chairs around a matching table and tried his best to keep a conversation going.

"So how are you two? Have you grown any? You look taller. You're taller than me, Eesti."

"I was always taller than you."

"Oh, well, yes, that's um, right. You were, weren't you? Well, um, how odd I wonder why."

Finland handled small talk about as well as he did cooking.

"Ah, well," he continued, "how have you been? And Poland and Lithuania how are they? I hope everyone is well."

Latvia thought that was an odd thing for someone to say about someone he might have sliced through earlier.

"We are all well," Estonia said quickly.

"Oh, I am glad to hear it. We are doing well too. And we had really good turnip crop this year, the carrots did well too…and, but you were here then, weren't you?"

Estonia nodded and looked out the window, in a distracted sort of way.

"Well, um, let me get you something to drink while you are waiting."

Finland scampered down to the root cellar and came back with a jug of beer, which he heated over the fire and emptied into four large mugs. He set these on the table.

"That should get rid of cold," he said cheerfully.

Latvia took a sip of the heated beer. It was a bit sweet and flavored with some sort of spice. What kind he was just too tired to think of or did not know, but it left a strange aftertaste, which he did not like.

The aroma of fried fish was slowly filling the room though and quickly dulling the flavor of anything else. And then Sweden was dishing out the fish onto plates of polished silver and laying them on the table. Latvia was about to take a bite when Estonia jabbed him in the arm.

"What?" Latvia snapped.

"We haven't prayed over it yet," Estonia answered matter-of-factedly.

Latvia sighed and put the fish back on the plate.

"Finland," Sweden said, "you want to say blessin'?"

"No!" Finland burst out. Then he paled and his teeth almost seemed to chatter as he breathed out, "I mean…I sure to get it wrong. You had better do it. You are better than me."

Estonia raised his eyebrows, slightly, but Sweden only shrugged. He folded his hands and closed his eyes:

"God. We thank ya for fish and oth'r good food. We thank ya f'r rain and sun and fire. And for bringing our family all together again. Amen."

"Amen," the others repeated. Latvia was half way through making the sign of the cross, when he noticed that neither Sweden nor Finland had made such a gesture, so he let his hand drop instead to his side and started eating. Sweden was Lutheran. Poland, Catholic. He should try to remember things like that. It might just be useful someday.