A/N: Hi, everyone! The twin fight is over! No, really, there was a fight. It turns out that when you hit your sister with a hair straightener she doesn't want to roleplay. IT WAS JUST A TAP! It hurt! Anyway, we're sorry for not updating for a while! College life got in the way and Castor was too tired. Here's a chapter for you! We promise to update within seven days instead of nine.
You get to meet an OC in this chapter!
Enjoy, review! Don't forget to send requests in!
Disclaimer: Wij zijn geen eigenaar Hetalia. With love from Belgium, Netherlands, and Luxemburg.
This chapter is dedicated to MedusaLegend.
Where are we going?
France woke with a groan and a pounding head. Pain seared through his shoulder as he sat up. He could feel something itchy around his throat.
"Que?" France rubbed his sore head. "Denmark?" he asked uncertainly.
"No." Norway stood in the doorway, a bored expression on his face.
"Norway? Why did you kidnap me?" France struggled to his feet. His legs wobbled, dangerously unsteady.
"We need you," Norway explained. "After all, you are one of the countries with the best health care system. You should know enough about caring for people. China can't do it all on his own."
"Mon Dieu, what did we do?" France's heart sunk. How badly injured was his son? What had he agreed to doing?
"What do you mean by that?"
"What did we do to America and mon cher?" France reiterated.
"America and Canada are in comas right now," Norway said coldly. "They are severely wounded. We need you to care for them for a while."
France couldn't believe it. A nation only fell into a coma when it was on the brink of death. Prussia had remained in his coma for three months before Germany had helped him wake up. For a moment France wondered if South had suffered the same fate.
"Scotland was right, we should not have bombed them."
"Don't worry, you will be punished soon enough," Norway assured him. "For now, go to America's and Canada's room and care for them. If you need help just ask one of our other nations."
France ducked his head. "Oui."
Norway left the room and headed to the front door. Denmark and Sweden stood with their weapons, ready for battle.
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"Ser, do you really think bombing Godspodin America and Godspodin Canada was a wise move?" Agent Orlov asked. She shuffled the papers in her hands nervously.
"Da," Russia said solemnly. "It was our only choice."
"No, it wasn't." Russia whirled around in surprise. Sweden, Denmark, and Norway stood in the doorway. The Slavic Union watched them in silence, the Baltics cowering back. "Yer going ta par fer that, Russia."
"Chto?" Russia asked.
"Attacking America and Canada like that," Denmark snapped. "I knew ya were bad, but I didn't know ya would fall that low."
"What would you have don if it were you, Denmark?" Russia drew his pipe form inside his long coat.
"I sure as hell wouldn't have tried ta kill another nation." Denmark drew his axe and leapt forward, swinging the weapon at Russia. The Slavic nation dodged the attack and swung his pipe at Denmark.
Sweden and Norway charged forward against the rest of the Slavic Union. The taller Viking swung his sword in a high arch against Lithuania who blocked the sword with his own weapon. Belarus was a flurry of silver and blue as she danced around Norway slashing with her knives. Poland snuck around Sweden's side while he was distracted by Lithuania. The Viking whirled around as Poland raised his weapon to strike and slammed the hilt of his sword on the smaller nation's head. Poland hit the ground like a bag of rocks.
"Po!" Lithuania guarded against another attack as Romania dashed forward to take Poland's spot.
Denmark whipped his axe around, aiming for Russia's undefended stomach.
"Russia!" Estonia leapt forward, drawing his own sword, and caught Denmark's axe on his weapon. Russia stumbled back but caught himself before he fell.
"Move it, Estonia." Denmark whipped his axe around and hit Estonia on the back with the blunt side of the weapon.
"Estonia!" Russia caught the Baltic nation he collapsed to the ground. He could see Lithuania clutching his side and watched as Norway knocked Ukraine's pitchfork aside and struck Belarus in the stomach. They were losing the fight, there was no way they could win.
"See ya later, Russia." Denmark raised his axe, preparing for the kill.
"Net!" Agent Orlov leapt in front of the Viking as his axe fell, imbedding itself in her shoulder.
"Net!" Russia seized his fallen pipe and charged Denmark. "She was special to me!" He swung at the Viking.
Denmark blocked the pipe and disarmed Russia, sending the faucet pipe sliding across the floor. Sweden Norway stood in a midst of panting and moaning nations. They looked to Denmark expectantly. Denmark backed away from Russia grinning.
"Let's go," Denmark said. "We did what we needed ta." The Vikings left with a victorious aura surrounding them.
Russia stumbled to Agent Orlov's side. "Vika?" he asked in a quiet voice. The Slavic Union gathered around Russia and his dying friend.
"Godspodin Russia?" Vika asked, looking weakly into Russia's eyes.
"Da?" Russia pulled her gently into his arms.
"I feel weak." Vika reached up to cup Russia's cheek. "I wish I could have stayed to see you happy, Godspodin Russia, Ivan."
"Me too, my Little Sunflower." Russia kissed the palm of her hand, tears forming in his eyes.
Ukraine stepped forward, placing a hand on her brother's shoulder. "We can still save her, let us care for her wounds."
"Net, there is no hope for her." Russia didn't want to prolong Vika's suffering any longer than needed.
"Yes we can, big brother." Belarus calmly strode to her brother's side. "If it is to see you happy, then I will help."
Lithuania knelt before Russia. "Mr. Russia, give her a chance."
Russia glanced between them helplessly. "Da."
Romania helped Lithuania to move Vika as Estonia and Bulgaria checked on the unconscious Poland. Russia stood wiping blood from his gloves onto his jackets. The Vikings would pay for what they did.
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The Spanish and Turkish Unions, upon decision of Spain, had journeyed to the Vikings' mansion in Denmark. Turkey glanced at the unusually quiet nation. Conquistador's acid green eyes flicked form window to window. None of the nations were aware of the fact that the bloodthirsty ex-empire had returned to Spain's body.
"Do you think fratello is alright?" Italy asked quietly. Greece patted him consolingly on the shoulder.
Turkey ignored the question, crossing his arms. "I'm not doin' this fer ya, Spain," he said. "I'm doin' it fer Icey."
"I don't even want to be here," Greece pointed out.
"Shut it, Greece," Turkey snapped. Greece glared at Turkey before turning back to the mansion.
"Cállate, cabrón. Lo estamos haciendo por Romano. (Shut up, you bastard. We're doing it by Romano.)" Conquistador snapped. Italy cocked his head curiously. Why had Spain said 'we'?
Turkey glared at Conquistador. "Eğer pislik İngilizce konuşun. Sen olmasaydın ben burada olmazdım. (Speak English you asshole. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you.)"
"We do not care what you think," Conquistador said, heading for the mansion. "We only want Romano."
"Spain!" Italy dashed after Conquistador.
"Çılgın piç. (Crazy bastard.)" Turkey shook his head and raced after them leading his union and Belgium. He arrived at the sight of Conquistador swinging his axe into the front door with a never before seen fury.
"Vamos a pelear con nosotros, cobardes! (Come out and fight us, cowards!)" Conquistador hollered.
"I have a feeling this isn't going to end well." Belgium watched Conquistador with a worried expression.
"What the hell are ya sayin', ya bastard?" Turkey demanded.
Conquistador swung again. "Queremos que nuestro Romano! (We want our Romano!)"
"Spain!" Tears filled Italy's eyes. "What is wrong with you?"
"Spain, alsjeblieft, (please) calm down." Belgium looked ready to cry.
"No! We want our ROMANO!" Conquistador broke the front door with his axe.
Once the wood had fallen away they could see Sweden standing in the doorway, a sword in hand.
"Ja?" the Viking asked.
"¿Dónde está nuestro Romano? (Where is our Romano?)" Conquistador demanded.
"Hn. I d'n't underst'nd wh't you're s'ying, Spain." Sweden raised his sword in a defensive position.
"Where is our Romano?" Conquistador hefted his sword. A twinge of annoyance flashed through him. They always thought they were Spain and it was really starting to bug him. "What have you done with him?"
"Rom'no is fine." Sweden leapt forward and brought his sword down on Conquistador. The ex-empire caught it with his axe, the handle almost snapping in half.
"¡Maldita sea!" Conquistador swore.
Sweden grabbed the battle axe and whirled around throwing Conquistador into the wall. Conquistador stood massaging his back.
"We will not be so easily defeated, weakling," Conquistador snapped.
"I am n't the weakl'ng h're, Spain." Sweden straightened up as Denmark and Norway appeared in the doorway. Turkey drew his scimitar out.
"We are not Spain!"
"Keep him busy, Sve," Denmark said. "We'll take care of the rest." He withdrew his axe and strode forward to meet Turkey. Their weapons clashed and they began to duel. Denmark brought strike after strike down on Turkey's curved sword. Turkey stepped back with every strike, defending himself.
"Italy!" Turkey shouted to the quivering nation.
"S-Sì?" Italy asked.
"Find the others, release as many as ya can." Turkey drew a dagger from his belt and tossed it to Italy who caught it.
"Sì!" Italy dashed through a door, dodging Denmark's swipe at him.
Norway's sword blurred as he fought Greece, Egypt, Cyprus, and Northern Cyprus at the same time. The four nations struggled to fight him as he danced about them.
Conquistador swung at Sweden. "You are dealing with the Conquistador now!" he snapped. Sweden blocked the axe and kicked Conquistador in the stomach. The ex-empire flew into a wall, his head colliding with it, and he collapsed to the floor. "Bastard!" Conquistador sat up rubbing his head.
"Kn'ck it off, Spain. You're n't going to w'n." Sweden advanced on Conquistador, towering over him.
"Laat hem met rust! (Leave him alone!)" Belgium charged Sweden, raising her sword. Sweden met her sword with his own and quickly took the offensive, forcing the female nation to back up. Denmark drove his axe's handle into Turkey's leg. Turkey howled in pain, clutching his thigh as he fell to the floor. Denmark spun and gave a feral grin, wrapping his arms around Belgium.
"What do we have here?" Denmark breathed in Belgium ear. A shiver ran up the female nation's spine. "We've already got ya surrounded, I don't see why we can't keep ya."
"Let me go!" Belgium struggled against Denmark.
Conquistador's eyes flashed to emerald for a split second. "Leave her alone!" Spain was pulled back into the recesses of his mind and Conquistador once again took over. The ex-empire struggled to stand, wincing.
Sweden lowered his sword, pressing the very tip at Spain's throat. "St'y d'wn, Spain," he commanded with a glare.
"We are not Spain!" Conquistador snarled. "We are Conquistador!"
"W'll th'n, goodn'ght, Conquistad'r." Sweden brought the hilt of his sword down on Conquistador's head. The ex-empire collapsed to the floor unconscious.
"Dan!" Iceland ran into the room and shoved Denmark aside, forcing him to release Belgium. The Dutch nation stumbled away from the Viking. Hong Kong stood in the doorway, watching with uncertainty.
"Genert Dreng!" Denmark shoved Iceland off, sending him tumbling to the floor. Italy came racing down the hallway. Turkey struggled to his feet and grabbed Italy's and Belgium's wrists.
"Icey," Turkey called. "Let's go!" Denmark grabbed his younger brother before Iceland could escape. Greece whirled around to look at Turkey, collapsing when Norway struck him on the back of his head with a sword.
Egypt backed into a wall, his eyes assessing the situation. He began to wave his hands in an intricate pattern while murmuring softly. Dark fog filled the room. Denmark, Norway, and Sweden struggled to see through the dense cover. Once the fog had cleared they could see Spain unconscious on the floor, Hong Kong and Iceland with their arms in Denmark's tight grip. The rest had escaped.
Norway rushed up the stairs to look out a window. Three retreating figures could be seen dashing for the forest. His eyes narrowed maliciously.
"Bring them back," he murmured. Howls filled the air as the beasts of legend were summoned.
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Netherlands, Romano, and Luxemburg raced through the trees. Italy had cut the collars of Netherlands and Luxemburg and the Dutch nations had freed Romano from his chains, cutting the collar off him too.
"How do we even know we're going in the right direction?" Luxemburg glared at his older brother.
Netherlands gritted his teeth. "Shut up, Lux," he growled. "We just need to get out of here."
"Why did we leave the tomato bastard behind?" Romano demanded.
"Do you really think we had a chance at saving him?" Netherlands asked. "A group of seven were outnumbered by three nations."
Romano slowed to a stop. "I'm not leaving him there! They'll kill him!"
Howls pierced the still air. Romano jumped in both fear and surprise, turning toward the source. Luxemburg spun to his older brother.
"What was that?" Luxemburg demanded.
"Vargrs." Netherlands looked horrified. Suddenly he surged forward grabbing Romano's wrist. "Up a tree, now!"
"Cosa?" Romano grabbed a lower branch and hoisted himself into the tree. "What is a 'Vargr'?" he asked.
"A vargr is a Norse wolf of myth," Netherlands explained quickly. "Trust me, you don't want to meet one." He lifted Luxemburg and helped him into the tree, hoisting himself up afterward.
"How do you know that?" Romano settled himself on a branch across from the brothers.
"I was curious about myths. I learned quite a bit about other nations' cultures."
Luxemburg blinked. "I didn't know you liked to read."
"Hopefully they don't come this way." Netherlands ignored his brother's jibe.
The howls filled the air once more, followed by the sound of pounding paws.
"Chigi!" Romano cried. "I think they found us."
"They're getting closer," Luxemburg whimpered. Netherlands drew his brother close to him.
Three wolves tore into view, stopping at the base of the tree. Their coats were as black as the night. They stood four feet tall at the shoulder, watching them with fiery red eyes. The wolves seemed to be trying to decide whether or not to eat the three nations.
"Do something!" Luxemburg burrowed into his brothers arms. He had never been this frightened before.
An odd mix of creaking and cracking emitted from Romano's branch. The Italian nation looked down at his branch, paling. The branch broke under his weight.
"Romano!" Netherlands seized Romano by the back of his shirt just as a vargr leapt up, gnashing its jaws around Romano's ankle. A high-pitched scream tore from Romano's lips as he struggled in the wolf's grip. Netherlands kicked the vargr in the snout, sending it tumbling to the ground. He pulled a sobbing Romano onto his branch.
"Dammit!" Romano clutched his bleeding leg.
All three wolves had begun to leap at the group snapping their powerful jaws. Romano flinched as one came too close for his liking. Their pearly teeth flashed in the moonlight.
"Back of, runt!" a shout echoed through the forest.
"What?" Luxemburg looked up from where he'd hid his face in Netherlands' jacket. "Who was that?" Romano looked over the tree branch. Australia charged into view, yelling a battle cry for all to hear. "Australia?"
Australia grabbed one of the wolves by the scruff and spun around, throwing it into a tree. Another wolf leapt at him but he brought his foot down on its muzzle. The third wolf charged, snapping and snarling when Australia held it back easily.
"I knew there was going to be trouble, mates," Australia puffed. "I followed the others and when I heard the howls I knew something like this was going to happen." He shoved the wolf off himself and punched it in the face. The vargr collapsed on the ground whining. The second wolf attempted to break get up but Australia kicked it in the head, knocking it out.
The Oceanic nation looked up from the three still forms. "Are you going to come down?" he called.
Netherlands lowered Romano to the ground first where he collapsed beside an unconscious vargr. He and Luxemburg clambered down after.
"How did you do that?" Romano asked.
"I'm used to dealing with crocodiles and kangaroos," Australia said. "I know how to fight a couple of puppies."
"Those weren't puppies, they were huge wolves!" Luxemburg stared at Australia in shock.
Australia chuckled and ruffled Luxemburg's hair. "There's not much of a difference to me, mate."
"You're crazier than American," Romano commented, poking a wolf.
"Don't poke them, Romano, you'll only wake them up faster." The vargr growled softly, as though agreeing with Australia.
"Chigi?" Romano scuttled backward away from the wolf.
"Let's get going before the pups wake up." Australia hosted Romano onto his shoulder, ignoring the complaints. "You can't walk on that ankle, mate, we'll patch you up once we're out of the bush." He led Netherlands and Luxemburg away from the mansion.
"Where are we going?" Luxemburg hurried to catch up with Australia.
"Home."
Home.
A/N: We've had three requests for our story, you've already seen two of them. Send in your requests and we'll consider them.
"Conquistador" is my creation. He is a bloodthirsty, dark side of Spain that Romano and Veneziano have never seen before. His eyes are acid green and he talks in the "we" form. And he is very protective of Romano. He is from the time of the Spanish Empire and killed Aztec.
The English form of "Vargr" is warg. Anybody up for a trip to New Zealand? Pollux! What? We're not that stupid, trust me. We know New Zealand isn't Middle Earth. J.R.R Tolkien (author of the Lord of the Rings) used a lot of Norse Mythology in his books, including the wargs. He was also close friends with C.S. Lewis, author of the Chronicles of Narnia.
Australia has some (if not most) of the most poisonous animals of the world. Kangaroos are actually very mean. They bite.
I'm taking Cultural Anthropology in college and learning to understand cultures. We're supposed to learn to be unbiased toward other cultures, understanding that cultures are very different from one another. That doesn't work so well when the professor shows a video of people eating tarantulas and 8-week-old duck embryo. I mean no offense to anyone! It's just kind of . . . weird to me.
Egypt and Greece both inherited a bit of magic form their mothers: Ancient Greece and Ancient Egypt.