The story Finland tells can be found in the last Runo of the Kalevala. The whole epic is quite interesting, and many parts are more exciting and adventurous than this, but I found this Runo quite funny, weird, and at the same time kind of sad. It also sort of fits the Christmas theme, if you pay attention. Anyway, I don't want to give too much away, so I shall stop speaking now. Oh, I don't own Hetalia or the Kalevala, but you probably already knew that. :)

For a few minutes, Finland did not speak, looking into the fire, as if he was expecting it to tell the tale, but the fire just crackled and danced on the hearth. Finland took a broom and brushed some ashes into a pile. Then he sat back down and lifted the kantele onto his lap, letting his fingers play carelessly over the strings. He closed his eyes and began:

"Years ago when the world was younger, and I was but a child roaming through the woods, there dwelt in Finland a wizard named Väinämöinen. He was a great and powerful wizard who was born old and at the beginning of the world. Some of his actions were good, others not so good. He went on many quests, restored the sun and moon to their places in the sky, even braved the dark waters of Tuonela, coming back from the realm of the dead."

"What I remember best about him though was that he could sing. His voice was so beautiful all of the animals would stop to listen to him. One way he would defeat his enemies was to sing them into a deep slumber...I have never heard a voice like that…strong and yet sweet, and…"

"Finland," Estonia said, "you're sidetracking...we only have so much time before Sweden returns..."

Estonia glanced nervously at the door.

"Fine, fine," Finland sulked. "but Väinämöinen was the greatest minstrel in the world...and since he's gone, I have never heard a voice so sweet...anyway...anyway...you made me loose my concentration."

Finland glowered at the fire. He hunched over and stroked the flames with the poker, moving the logs.

"I'm sorry," Estonia said.

Finland set the poker down and straightened back up. "Now I shall have to start all over again..."

"Finland..." Estonia said, "you don't have to..."

"Yes," Finland insisted, "I should not have begun where I did anyway. It was confusing."

"I didn't find it confusing," Latvia put in.

"The story should be sung," Finland mumbled, "it doesn't sound as good if it isn't sung."

"But," Estonia put in, "we haven't much time...Sweden could back in...and he'd wonder what you were singing about. If you were just speaking, it would sound less suspicious."

"I am hungry," Latvia whimpered. He was not really, but he did not like when Finland and Estonia quarreled, even if they were doing it playfully. Smiling, Finland turned and bonked him on the head and then gave him another cinnamon roll. "There you little greedy one." He ruffled Latvia's hair. Latvia stared back at him with grateful indignation.

"Anyway," Finland continued, "Väinämöinen doesn't come into this story until later. Right now, I should be telling you of Marjatta."

"Whose Marjatta?" Latvia asked.

Finland smiled as if Latvia had turned over a rotten log and found a pile of gold.

"Ah," Finland said, "Marjatta...she was a strange girl, beautiful but strange. She became obsessed with purity. She would eat only fish and lamb and bread, nothing that in life had mated with anything else. She wouldn't gather eggs because she did not want to touch a chicken that been mounted by a rooster. She would not drink milk a cow, because it had mated with a bull. She would not even ride in sledge if the horses were not pure...I am not exactly sure how she thought she came about, but perhaps her parents never told her?"

"Maybe she was just lazy and a good liar," Estonia said.

"I hadn't really thought of that," Finland said. He bit his lip, looked thoughtful, shrugged. "Anyway, her parents decided to send her out to this hill…to work as a shepherdess, taking care of the lambs...as they had yet to be polluted. The girl was a really pretty girl, and she dressed well in bright colored skirt, shoes with fancy uppers, and satin ribbons which she tied in her braided hair…"

"Her parents spoiled her,' Estonia said with a smile, "it works with my theory..."

"Estonia..." Finland rolled his eyes but smiled. Then he forced himself to look serious. "You are interrupting again. I thought you wanted to hear the story?"

"I do," Estonia.

"Good," Finland said. He patted the top of Estonia's head and continued, "well...she was not happy as shepherdess. She got lonely. The birds would sing, and the lambs would play around her, but she had no companion. She started to think that this purity thing wasn't working out so well..."

"I've heard the same thing happening to some nuns who enter cloister..."

"Eesti, stop," Finland said, "it's impossible to tell you a story. Simply impossible. I might as well give up."

"I want to hear the rest," Latvia whined, "I want to hear what happens to her. Does someone come by when she is there shepherding? Does she get married? How many children does she have?"

"I want to know too," Estonia said, "and I'm sorry...it's just…"

"You're cynical," Finland finished for him, "And you," he said turning to Latvia, "are a romantic."

"And what are you?" Estonia asked.

"I'm not sure," Finland said, "something better I guess."

Estonia and Latvia stared at him surprise.

"I am just joking," Finland laughed, "really you two...ah...okay, so she was there taking care of the little lambs when she heard the sound of the golden cuckoo..."

"Probably because she is," Estonia mumbled.

Finland chose to ignore him. "And she sang out to it asking how long she would remain alone as a shepherdess, but there came no reply. Marjatta had remained a shepherdess too long."

Estonia nodded.

"It's hard to work as a shepherd, even more so for a girl. Especially with all the snakes that live in the fields. Suddenly, she heard a voice."

"Who was it?" Latvia asked.

"Well," said Finland, "she looked and she looked and she looked some more, and she suddenly realized that it was a berry that was calling her..."

"A what?" asked Latvia.

"A berry, a lingonberry to be precise," Finland said, "a nice juicy, red lingonberry...and it started singing to her."

"Cuckoo," Estonia whispered.

"Shut up," Finland laughed. He threw a blanket over Estonia's head and went on quickly. "The berry sang to her telling to come and pluck it. Everyone else had passed it by."

"So, the girl went to the berry, but it was too high for picking and too low to get by climbing the tree. So, she took a stick and knocked it from the branches, and it fell down, fell unto her fancy shoes. Then it started to climb."

"What?!" Latvia and Estonia cried together. Well, Estonia's cry came just a little bit after because the blankets, which he was still struggling to get off, slowed it. His head peaked out, and he stared with wide eyes at Finland, his glasses slipping down his nose.

"It climbed up her feet to her white knees; from her knees, it went to her clean white apron; from her apron, it clambered to her waist band, then to her bosom, her chin, until it reached her lips, and pushed eagerly forward into her mouth. She felt it sway on her tongue..."

"Finland!" Estonia exclaimed.

"What?" Finland asked.

"That's just weird..."

"Be quiet, or it I will never get done," Finland said, "...the berry fell from her tongue, slipped down her throat, into her belly. Afterwards, she felt happy. She avoided her work, spend much more time sleeping, going to bed early, awaking late, and sleeping much in between. She started to grow fat, and her mother wondered and worried about her, but she did not guess the answer, not until nine months had passed, and her daughter came to her in pain asking for her to prepare the sauna, so that she could give birth. Her mother was horrified, called her a whore, and asked who the father was. She didn't believe the story about the berry and refused to help her. Marjatta asked her father, but he also called her a whore and told her to go to hell, but the girl insisted that she was pure and even did a bit of prophesying:"

"I'm no whore fit for hellfire, she said, I'm the bearer of the Great One, Deliverer of the Sacred Birth, Man-child who will rule the rulers. Even rule old Väinämöinen."

"But her parents would not listen, so she sent out her handmaid to ask her neighbors if there was a sauna where she could give birth, but no one would take her in. She was told though by a man that there was a barn where she could give birth which belonged to the devil, Hiisi. Marjatta was mortified but decided she should take up the offer. She did not have much of a choice. Her own parents had flung her from the house. So, she went to the barn and lay down in the hay and prayed for an easy delivery. Then she turned to the flaming horse of Hiisi who stood near by and implored him weakly to breath on her, so she would have some warmth. The horse, in pity, blew on her with its warn breath, until the barn was made as warm as a sauna..."

"That's weird..." Estonia said.

"…and she gave birth in peace. Then she swaddled and nursed the babe. Eventually she fell asleep. When she awoke, the baby was gone!"

Latvia let out a small gasp.

"She searched everywhere but couldn't find him. She met a star and asked him if he knew were her boy, but the star reported back meanly that he did not know where her boy was, and if he did he wouldn't tell her, because the boy had created the star to wonder alone in a dark void. She asked the moon as well but was again rebuffed. Only the sun would give answer, saying that the baby had sunken into the swamp. Marjatta immediately rushed over and pulled him out, brought him home."

"He was a beautiful baby, but no one could think of a good name for him…his mother called him Little Flower…others called him Good-For-Nothing. So, his mother sent out for a Christener, and an old man were brought was forth, but he would not baptize the child until he had been judged. So, Väinämöinen, the old wizard, was brought forward to judge the child."

"Väinämöinen examined the child, closely and with suspicion. He listened to the story of his birth and shook his head. 'If this child was sired by a berry among the fenland, then he should be returned there, and planted in the ground, or else drowned in the swamp."

"But suddenly the two week old baby protested and rattled off all of Väinämöinen's wrong doings, every act of cowardice, until Väinämöinen was filled with shame."

"Some baby!" Estonia said. He hit his elbow against Finland's side.

"Joo," Finland said. But he pushed Estonia away. He was no longer smiling. "Anyway…the old man…who had been sent to christen the child…now christened him in joy and declared him to be the King of Karelia…"

"Karelia?" Latvia asked.

"Ah, perhaps," Finland said with a frown, 'I should have explained earlier…Karelia is between Russia and me…she and I, we use to live together, now she lives with Russia. Karelia has nice land though, beautiful land. We were very close…but, ah…not on particularly friendly terms now…"

Finland looked away, out the window, his eyes distant and tender. For a while, he was silent.

"Is that how the story ends?" Estonia asked.

"No," Finland said quietly. He did not look at them, kept looking out the window, "No. Väinämöinen, he was shamed and angry. He who had lived for years among the people, who had helped through them through their darkest hours, was now to be replaced in a day by a babe in a barn. He walked with a heavy heart to the sea. I met him on the shore, unsure as to what had happened. He looked sad. He sang out his last enchantment, conjured up a copper boat. Sitting in it, steering seaward he called back to the shore:

"Let the rope of time run out-

One day go, another come-

And again I will be needed.

They'll be waiting, yearning for me,

To bring back another Sampo*,

To invent another harp,

See a new moon in the sky,

When there is no moon, no sun,

And no gladness on the earth."

"So, he sailed away, and a mist in rose in my eyes, but he left behind his harp, his kantele. He left it to me and to my people as a reminder of his presence. I asked the people what had happened to drive Väinämöinen away. And to me, they told the story I tell to you today."

Finland released a heavy sigh and set the kantele down.

"And now," he added, "I must start with the rest of the dinner."

Without another word, he put on his apron and headed into the kitchen.

*Sampo, a legendary object of great importance. It brings wealth and good fortune to its owner. Quite a few Runos of the Kalevala have to do with it, how it was made, stolen, retaken, and then lost.

I used two translations of the Kalevala for this. One by John Martin Crawford and the other by Eino Friberg, these are both available online, if you have any interest in hearing more of these delightful stories.

Thank you for reading, please leave a review. They mean a lot and extremely helpful. :)