Disclaimer: The Hetalia characters and their personifications belong to Hidekaz Himaruya. 日丸屋 秀和
A/N - This is a preview for a possible Nordics story to explain how their gang got together. So this whole chronicle would be like a long backstory!
Mathias' Rules to Live By:
1) Survive
2) Live life to the fullest because in three days you will probably be dead
3) Fear nothing
4) Avoid yellow snow
5) Look before you stab
6) Be careful who you piss off
Help from Unlikely Sources
"Come on!"
"What?"
"We're leaving! Hurry up! What are you waiting for?"
"An answer." Lukas tore his arm away from the Dane's grasp (which, for being pumped with poison, was surprisingly strong). "Leaving where?"
Mathias rolled his eyes vexedly. "To get those berries, duh! Now come on. I know you Norwegians are offensively slow in everything you do, but you're wasting time!"
The northerner stared at the man before him with an almost dumbfounded expression; for the first time, really looked at him. ...And he found that he felt something akin to pity for this Danish miscreant.
This impetuous young man looked to be no older than Lukas himself. He had that messy hair which stuck up at odd ends from every angle. He was tall and toned yet he retained that boyish facial structure with large blue eyes and dimpled smile. For the short period Lukas had known him, Mathias' true character appeared to be a boisterous, childish daredevil. He was youthful, immature, misguided and probably in complete denial about this entire ordeal.
Which is why Lukas took a collective breath and adopted a gentler tone when he responded, "To even have a chance at making this antidote, it would require a perilous journey... The truth is that, with the way things are, it's almost certain we wouldn't be able to find what we need in time to stop the poison from killing you." He paused and allowed the difficult truth linger in the stiff air. After a moment, Lukas continued, "...Now, I won't force my brother to suffer any more than he already has to for the last days of his life. And I'm sure as hell not gonna risk cutting that time shorter." Lukas again paused, and Mathias wondered briefly if he was trying to hold back tears. With that thought, another pang of guilt erupted in Mathias' chest.
When the mournful older brother spoke again, it was in that same deep, monotone voice, only very, very quiet. "I... just want to be alone with my brother right now." He looked directly up at Mathias, a rekindled anger flaring up once more in his eyes. "Now get out. You've done enough."
However, the emotional words were not enough to deter Mathias. He stepped closer to the Norwegian.
"But there's a chance we can make it," he countered. "Who the hell cares if it's slim? What have you got to lose? You have the map and the book! If you don't do this, your brother will die. You have to take this risk!"
Suddenly, Lukas gained a look of unadulterated fury in his cobalt eyes. "Crazy bastard, didn't you hear me? It's hopeless! I'm not dragging Emil along on some doomed crusade just so he can freeze to death in my arms on a mountain. Need I remind you that taking risks and being a DUMB-ASS is what got you in this situation in the first place!?"
"I could say the same to you Mr. 'Never Mess With The Book Because It's Dangerous'. Apparently that rule doesn't apply when you're using it to mix deadly poisons, huh?"
The men's eyes locked challengingly. It was clear that neither were willing to back down.
Mathias' eyes remained frozen to those indigo irises for what seemed like ages, his expression stern and unwavering.
In truth, he could understand the older brother's unwillingness to budge on this matter. Mathias was asking this guy to place total faith and trust in someone who, mere hours earlier, had stabbed his only remaining family member with a poison arrow. Did he really expect him to embark on a dangerous journey with a hazardous criminal? Furthermore, not only was Lukas in a state of shock and dismay at his little brother's very likely imminent death, the last thing he wanted to do was let Emil down further. He'd already failed to protect him once. He couldn't bring himself to fail the child again if their quest turned out unsuccessful.
But if Lukas didn't even try, then there was no question that Emil would die.
And Mathias, who had a knack for making things go his way, would absolutely not have that. He didn't know what exactly was driving him to protect this kid, but he'd be damned if he was going to let the child die because his brother was in denial. He needed to convince this man-with-the-curl to change his mind... and he knew exactly who could do that.
It slowly occurred to the Norwegian that Mathias was calculating something in his head.
However, his suspicions were too late to stop whatever bad idea had manifested in the criminal's mind.
The corner of the Dane's mouth slowly tugged upward into a mischievous half-smile and he stated, almost caressingly, "I'm gonna go wake Emil."
"DON'T YOU DARE!" Lukas threatened. "Keep your filthy paws off my brother!"
"What's wrong? Afraid to tell the poor kid you're giving up on him because you're afraid of taking risks?"
"That is NOT what-"
But before Lukas could properly retaliate, Mathias took off in a dead sprint towards the bed.
Not knowing what else to do, the northerner bolted after him and tackled the slightly taller man to the ground.
There was a loud crash and Mathias grunted at the rough impact upon his already-aching body.
"Gah! I'm telling him!" he growled. Mathias rolled over and tried forcefully to shove the lighter blond off.
"No -agh!- you're not!"
They continued to tumble on the floor, grunting, muttering curses and gradually rolling closer to the bedstead. As they struggled, it became clear that Lukas could not maintain the upper hand for long, but, at the same time, Mathias could not completely pry him off.
When he saw they were near the edge of the bed, Mathias let out a shout. "Emil- mmph!"
In their tangled heap, Lukas clamped a hand over his adversary's mouth.
Regardless, Emil startled awake at the sound of his name.
Mathias pried the hand away, grumbling, "That's it," in an aggravated tone before roughly flipping Lukas onto his back, pinning his legs to the ground and his hands above his head.
"What's going on?" the child asked, growing frightened at the scene playing out below him.
Mathias hurriedly shoved one hand over his victim's mouth while the other hand secured Lukas' wrists.
"Good news, kid! Your brother says there's a cure!" He flashed a bright, reassuring smile up at the boy, ignoring the struggling hostage beneath him.
"There is?!" Emil cried, eyes becoming large. The concern evaporated from the youthful eyes and was replaced by naive hopefulness.
"Yup! And all we need to make it are a few berries! Isn't that right, Norge?"
Mathias looked down at the Norwegian man below him. Although his captive couldn't speak, his narrow eyes spat fire in response.
The afflicted boy's excitement dimmed slightly, however, and he cocked his head to the side.
"...What are you doing to my brother?" Emil finally asked.
"This is just how adults settle arguments," Mathias explained nonchalantly. "By fighting like children." He paused, looked back down at the man he had pinned to the floor in an admittedly suggestive position and added, "This is also how adults do... other things. But you're a little young to- OOF!"
Successfully freeing one of his legs, Lukas administered a fierce kick to the Danish aggressor's stomach area, causing the latter to crumple gracelessly to the ground beside him.
The kicker sat up.
"Brother," Emil cried with wild hope brimming in his young eyes, "I knew there was medicine! I knew we could use the book! Wasn't I right? And all we need now are berries?"
Lukas looked down at his younger sibling's beaming face with a sad expression. Just as Mathias had predicted, the wall of determination Lukas had built up against the idea of going on this journey instantly began to crumble upon seeing the boy's aspirant face.
At that moment, Lukas wanted only to tell the child that yes, everything would be okay. He wanted to believe in those innocent pools of amethyst for himself.
Turning his head to shoot a deathly glare at Mathias, Lukas then dropped to one knee and faced the ten-year-old on the bed.
"Emil..." he began slowly, choosing his words carefully, "the poison inside you... it takes three days to..." Mathias listened with a sympathetic ear as Lukas chose to leave that his last sentence unfinished. "This is going to be a long journey if we search for the berries. And a dangerous one. Do you understand? In order to get these special fruits, we'd have to sail across the sea, somehow navigate our way through a far-away land, hike up an icy mountain and face countless other dangers I can't even begin to name. I just want to make sure, I mean..." Lukas found that he couldn't flat-out say 'no'. What would Emil think of him? That he really was just giving up and accepting his brother's death? If he said no, would that be what he was doing? "...Emil, are you sure you're up for this?"
"If you're brave enough to face it, Brother, than so am I!"
The answer did not seem as reassuring as what Lukas was hoping for.
Mathias chose this moment to stand and add his two cents.
He stepped closer to the brothers.
"I believe this can be done. We can make it. If you both are up for this, I'll give my life before anything happens to either of you. I promise."
Lukas rolled his eyes at what he believed to be fake gallantry, but Emil's eyes glimmered as if he were being addressed by a real knight.
"You really think we'll make it in time?" A tinge of fear still lingered in the child's voice.
"Kid, clearly you've never travelled with the Mighty Mathias Køhler! I once made it from the Mediterranean to the Baltic Sea in two hours flat!"
"That's a lie!" the child argued, smiling.
"Alright, alright," Mathias threw his hands up in mock defeat, "so maybe it was a bit longer, but no more than two days, mind you! I'm telling you, I'm the fastest thing on both the land and the sea!"
"Pumped full of poison you're not," Lukas grumbled with crossed arms.
"You wanna bet?" Mathias smiled playfully. "Now come on you Norwegian codfish! We gotta leave now if we wanna make it!"
"I'm no codfish! I bet I'm faster than you!" countered the child.
"You think you can beat a full-blooded viking warrior in a race out the door?" the Dane arched an eyebrow and placed his hands on his hips.
Before another word could pass his lips, the child bounced off the bed and scurried as quickly as his short legs would carry him straight out the front door.
Laughing and purposely allowing the child run ahead, Mathias stopped at the threshold and turned to flash a deviously successful smile at the older brother.
Lukas only returned his gesture with a cold glare. "I. Hate. You." he ground out.
The words which Mathias had heard so often in his life merely rolled ineffectually off his back. He winked at the lighter blond and responded, "Give me three days, sweet-heart. I think I can change your mind." With that, he pranced out the door.
Only if in three days you drop dead, came the silent answer.
Lukas sighed to himself heavily, worriedly, spitefully, and began to pack some provisions for this (what he believed to be) hopeless journey.
Of course, he did not forget the book.
"So explain this to me again," Mathias voiced. "If this mountain or whatever we have to get to is north, why the hell are we going south... exactly?"
Lukas trod in front of him. A pack with three days' worth of food and provisions was secured to his back, a stern expression set on his face. He didn't even have the energy to roll his eyes. "Because, for the third time, we can't walk on water. We need a boat."
"Yeah well we could have gone to a portage north of here. I could have gotten us a boat there."
"For the last time, we're not stealing a boat," Lukas warned sternly. "There's a man about an hour downriver who is a ship maker. His family crafted fishing vessels for us in the past."
Mathias huffed, more disappointed that he would not be hijacking a ship than that going south was taking longer.
"And you humble fishmongers just happen to have enough out-of-pocket money to buy a boat whenever you want?"
"Borrowing, not buying. They're good people. They won't demand payment in full. I can give them what I have now and pay the rest when this is over."
The group continued walking, the icy dirt crunching below their feet as they went.
Mathias would be glad to embark on a vessel soon, he had to admit. Seafaring was in his blood. It was undoubtedly the best way to get around. All this walking nonsense was getting old. And it was tiring!
Just as that thought passed his mind, another stab of pain shot through Mathias' chest. He tried to recover from the feeling as discretely as possible.
The river seemed to be laughing at him as he followed it south.
Eventually, as the late sunset filled the sky with a thousand hues of orange and purple, the troop approached a small cottage near the bank where the river widened.
The property was decorated with a row of about three longships and one large vessel which was quite obviously still under construction, as the hull was only half-complete.
Wood boards and beams, metal tools and braided rope were scattered in disarray across the grass.
To Mathias, the small Swedish homestead appeared to be an odd combination of both quaint and gruff features.
They approached the door of the house and Lukas knocked loudly against the thick wood.
Mathias, for some reason, suddenly had an eerie feeling about this place. Even standing on the doorstep made him feel inexplicably uncomfortable and threatened.
He looked over his shoulder, several times, despite the fact that his two companions seemed completely at ease.
He nearly jumped when they heard footsteps approach from inside the house.
Slowly, the door creaked open.
A figure revealed itself before them and immediately Mathias' heart sank to his stomach.
One very tall, very severe-looking man with short blond hair gazed down over the trio.
There was a tense pause, a spark of recognition, and Mathias instinctively backpedaled to put as much distance as possible between himself and the behemoth.
"H-hey buddy... . Long time no- GAH!"
The man barreled forth and snatched Mathias by the front of his shirt.
"What 're YOU doin' on m' pr'perty?!" the man boomed.
With brutish strength, he effortlessly hoisted Mathias off the ground despite the Danish man's frantic protests.
Needless to say, the man who had just opened the door happened to be the same Swede from the pub earlier. Apparently, he had not forgotten Mathias; and now, with a distinct gash on the left side of his face as well as a newly-bruised cheek, he seemed to be even madder than before.
Mathias, as he dangled like a fish on a hook, was utterly lost. He had no idea how this psychopath had gotten out of the pub (well, in all honesty Mathias actually had no idea what even happened at that chaotic pub after he left), or what he was doing so far up river! Had he been following Mathias?!
The larger man narrowed his eyes and lifted his victim even higher above the ground.
The person being slowly hanged with his own collar protested by kicking and struggling futilely. His face began to change colors - first red, then blue...
"Berwald, he's with us," came a flat voice.
The hulking man was temporarily broken out of his rage and turned to face the pair of pale blonds on his doorstep. He seemed only just now to become aware of their presence. However, it was apparent from the look he gave each of them that both parties were familiar with one another.
"Didn't think you boy's 'd be associatin' w'th this scoundr'l."
"It's not by choice," Lukas assured seriously.
After a moment's hesitation, the Swede eyed the two Norwegians carefully before releasing his hold on the half-asphyxiated Dane.
Mathias fell limply to the dirt below in an inglorious heap, coughing and rubbing his neck where the threads of his shirt-collar had begun to dig into the flesh.
"What the hell you crazy bast- gAhh, dammit!" Mathias was silenced by another bout of pain brought on by the poison.
"Don't mind him," Lukas told their new acquaintance. "He's harmless at the moment."
"Hey!" came an indignant shout from the background.
"We need a ship," Lukas stated.
Berwald eyed all of them before nodding slowly. "Alright. I need 'n expl'nation."
Mathias rose and slunk warily - as if he were a kicked stray puppy - around the towering Swede to rejoin the brothers.
Lukas sighed began his explanation.
"I shot this crook over here with a poison arrow..."
"Und'rstandable."
"...and dumb-ass stabbed my brother in the leg with it. Now, in order to get them a cure, we have to find a rare fruit. In order to reach the place it grows, we'll need to cut across the North Sea. We've only got three days."
Berwald placed a hand over his chin pensively. He took another look at Mathias. "D'dn't think you were low enough t' kill a kid."
"I only STABBED him because I THOUGHT he was YOU!" Mathias retorted. Then he grumbled quietly, "...Believe me, I really wish it had been you..."
"So you need a cure," Berwald continued, choosing to ignore the fuming Dane. "Why're y' bringin' 'im." The last part was intentionally not phrased as a question.
Lukas paused and even Mathias looked at him curiously, somewhat intrigued to hear the answer himself. "I can't take care of my brother and go on this journey alone."
There was a period of extended silence as the Swedish shipbuilder seemed to contemplate something.
"I'm comin' with you," he finally said.
Lukas shrugged. "We're not asking you to go out of your way for us. We just need a boat," he stated calmly.
"WHAT?!" the Dane erupted simultaneously.
The Swede flashed a stern glare that told all of them the discussion would go no further. "I'm comin' with you" he repeated, leaning his face towards Mathias. "This 'un just wants the r'medy," Berwald went on as he pointed to the glaring criminal. "I'd hate t' see a couple 'f decent men, 'specially those who've done honest b'siness with m' family before, get hurt at the hands 'f this lowlife. 'll take you on a ship m'self t' keep 'n eye on him."
"ABSOLUTELY NOT! NORGE! WE CAN'T LET THIS CREEPY, STONE-FACED OGRE ON OUR SHIP!"
"They're MY ships," the Swede reminded.
"It might be dangerous," Lukas acknowledged, "but your help would be much appreciated."
Berwald nodded and turned. "W'll leave 'soon as I c'n put the boat in the water."
"We can't exactly pay you for passage," Lukas added. "At least not in full..."
The Swede turned back. Mathias was shocked to see the shadow of a smile present on his features. "Y' already did."
Berwald removed something he had tied to the back of his belt. Then, a very familiar-looking sack appeared in his hands.
"HEY! That's my bag! You stole it!"
"It'll be y'r payment."
"But I stole that stuff FIRST!"
Everyone continued to ignore Mathias. Even Emil, who occasionally gave him sympathetic glances, understood the other adults were set on paying no mind to him and his ranting.
The poor child had remained silent as the adults talked, but mainly it was because the burning sensation had returned to his chest and his muscles were beginning to ache. He didn't feel like talking, he felt like crawling under a rock and willing away the pain with sleep.
"You c'n come inside 'nd show me y'r map. We've got more t' discuss." Berwald turned to Mathias. "You wait out h're. I don't allow dogs in m'house."
Mathias begrudgingly watched the two men make their way inside. After flashing an encouraging smile at Emil and receiving one in return, he watched the boy trot in after them.
So Mathias was left alone with his thoughts as he sat on a stump outside. Most of those thoughts consisted of how accursed his life seemed at the moment. He honestly didn't know if he could last three days with that Berwald guy...
But then his eyes trailed to the two Norwegians whom he could see through the cottage's window. After the events of today, Mathias decided that he not only owed those two, he genuinely liked their company.
However, considering all he was putting up with at the moment, they must have been pretty damn special.
The only thing Mathias knew at the time, was that he would not be putting up with this for anyone else.
Yes, he might have actually chosen death over a three-day-long journey with that terrifying Swede.