This story contains violence, and bloody themes but it will have happy-fun-sex-time and romantic love too! ;D I do not own Hetalia, if I did, Berwald would be naked all~ the time ;3
ALSO NOTHING IN THIS FANFIC IS HISTORICALLY ACCURATE! Enjoy 3
Tino screamed. Scrambling over the corpses of the village's men he felt his stomach churn painfully as his feet barely trampled upon the smashed skull of a Finnish man's head. He cringed as he stumbled on. He couldn't be captured. He had to live on and wait out the night when the Dane's left the shores of his homeland.* Only then could he wander outside and treat the wounded. He shuddered. That is, if there would be anyone still left alive after the raid.
The Danes had docked near the ports along Helsinki, leaving barely an hours time for the Finn's to get ready for battle.* The small fishing village had been caught off guard and they paid dearly for it. There was word that an attack might occur, but barely any of the villagers paid heed to it. Tino felt the pit of his stomach turn. They should have taken the warning signs...
Tino, who had been along the flaxen fields, drying the sour smelling grass for clothing, had heard the battle horns blare against the bright jewel blue sky. In that moment, when the sound of the horns clouded across the trees, he dropped everything and ran.
Now it seemed the battle was over, as Tino witnessed the hated vibrant black of the ravened flag whip-lashing across the once peaceful sky of Finland.* Tino gritted his teeth. Clumsily trotting down the small rolling hills he came to a frightening scene. Perched on a few carts loaded with stolen goods was the one person Tino hated more than anyone. The damned Dane's leader, Mathias. Tino furrowed his brows as he steadied his shaking legs.
Last spring Tino had the great misfortune of making Mathias acquaintance. The Danish vikings had just raided their already poor city capital, and were making off with the cities few treasure's when the Dane had spotted Tino and his cousin's Nikolas and Björt in the crowds of captives. The tall flaxen haired Dane had stooped down to the kneeling cousins and smiled brightly at them.
"Come with me, or die." The Dane had smirked, producing a two handed Danish axe, the blade slantingly sharp. Neither Nikolas nor Tino budged, Björt winning and throwing a fuss in his blankets. This made the Dane irritable, and he yanked Nikolas up by the collar of his tunic, his teeth bared and dogmatic.
"Are ya deft?" he barked at the Norsemen, but Nikolas did not answer, only held his little brother tighter in his arms, his eyes as emotionless as ever. The Dane snarled, and with a quick tug, he had hoisted Nikolas on his shoulder and stomped away, yelling something at his warriors to disperse. Nikolas had yelled and cried with fright, kicking and screaming, the babe in his arms sobbing loudly. Tino had shouted after him, clawing through the crowds of people who were being pushed back by the Danish vikings swords. But before he could get to his cousins, Tino already saw the mass of blond haired men pushing their dragon headed ships southward. The little Finn was left standing in the bright blossoming fields of flowers and blood.
Tino shuddered. It was all happening again. Those white and red sails, warning of the white of sun bleached bones and the onslaught of red blood, it was enough to make a grown man weep. But Tino would not cower. After his remaining family had been abducted he had done his very best to follow his cousin's line of work, becoming a healer to the village like Nikolas. But now Tino was sure that Nikolas was dead. The young Finn of nineteen winters wanted revenge, and he wanted it now. So, storming down the grassy knoll that led to the outskirts of the flax field and the cattle paddock's, Tino quietly slid through the back gates of the village.
Hiding behind a few hay stacks that had been piled outside of a black smith's shop, Tino ground his teeth with disgust. There was the Dane, his tunic stained red with blood, his rough fingers twiddling with the sinew string wrapped around the monstrous handle of his axe. The very axe that threatened Tino a year before. Suddenly all the anger, all the hurt, and all the loneliness crashed down on the Finn and he shouted with fire in his breath and iron in his heart. He lunged out from behind the straw and flung himself at the Dane, whose eyes widened with surprise.
In an instant, Tino was thrown over his enemies shoulder and shoved into the dirt. He groaned with pain, mildly aware that his left arm had been forcibly extended upward, his heaving chest crushing the other arm. He ground his teeth together.
"Well, well, well. Feisty little pup, ain't ya'?" That sickeningly obnoxious voice violated Tino's ears. He cringed.
"Looks like this little traitor was stupid enough to come out of his little hiding spot." The tall Danish man grinned to his companion, another Danish warrior.
"I'm not a traitor! You are the ones who are the traitors! You murderer's!" Tino screamed. Mathias sneered.
"Not too smart are ya' kid?" Mathias asked. Tino didn't feel obliged to answer. Instead he held his head as high as it would go, his neck aching.
"You killed my family, you bastard!" Tino snarled. His throat ached and his left arm had gone numb from the Danes brute strength.
"I've killed a lot of families over the years-refresh my memory." Mathias let a vicious smile crawl over his lips.
"My two cousin's, Nikolas and Björt." Tino stared into the Dane's face with pure hatred.
But, instead of the Dane laughing in his face as he was sure he would have, Tino was pulled up and steadied. Mathias had a lazy grin stretched on his face, and his strong arms balanced on his hips.
"I know who you're talking about lad. I know very well." He mused.
"Don't call me lad!" the little Finnish man spit. "My names Tino, you damn bastard!"
Mathias smiled gravely before he made a hand gesture behind him, and in a matter of seconds a few men had rounded around Tino's back and had flung a mass of dried rope and leather throngs around his body. Tino's eyes widened and he cursed, wriggling and biting at the hands of the Danish soldiers. But it was too late. He was thrown into the chest of Mathias harshly, his arms abound behind his back, legs tied at the ankles. He was going to die.
Mathias held him up by the collar, the Finns eyes bright and blazing, like an arrow caught on fire in the heat of battle.
"I know where your cousin's are. They're in good hands boy. I'll take ya' to see 'em if ya' like. Though you'll owe me a favor in return." The Dane mused, his mouth pulled up into a grin.
"I would rather die than to be indebted to a viking."* Tino breathed out with spite. The Dane frowned before flinging him over his shoulder.
"Too bad for you. I was hoping you would go without a fuss." And with that Tino was clubbed over the head with something hard and solid and his head hung low, his eyes rolling back into hsi skull. He could hear the rumbling of the Danish mans laughter, and then all was silent.
Tino awoke to the annoying squawking of gulls and the smell of salt water. He opened his eyes, wiping the sleep and puffiness from them. He yawned loudly before sitting up on something solid. Turning his head cautiously, he looked to see that he was laying across a makeshift hammock, the woven material acting as a soft cushion for Tinos body. Tino groaned and rolled his head back. The back of his head felt sore, and as he placed his hands to his scalp he pulled back and winced.
Brown and flaking blood had dried against his baby fine hair, leaving his locks clumped and dirty. He felt his gut churn painfully into the first inkling of fear.
He had been captured. After he had been forcibly knocked out, he supposed Mathias had loaded him onto the Danes ship. Tino stretched upwards and looked out the small hatched window to see the rolling and thunderous waves of the ocean sprawled out before him. Tinos eyes widened.
The sea looked absolutely terrifying, like it would just roll up lazily and smash Tino where he stood. The undoubtedly shilling waters were a grave sight for many viking ships, and whose to say the one Tino was boarded on would not sink? This frightening thought left goosebumps on his slowly cooling flesh.
Feeling like he was about to faint from exhaustion and fright, Tino hurriedly escaped the confines of the small wooden box like cabin that was his cell and quickly tramped upstairs.
Once against the hot breath of the sun, he sighed heavily into the tangible air. That was, until he saw all the unfamiliar and dangerous looking faces on board.
Men. A hundred of them or more looked at Tino like he was a small rabbit caught into a hunters snare. All hungry eyed, jaws slack, teeth brutishly yellow and dogmatic. Tino stepped back.
One of the Danish sailors quickly advanced on Tino and wrapped his arms around the Finns stomach. He pulled the Finn to his chest and sneered. Tino screamed and thrashed, yelling every Finnish swear word in the book.
"Hey! This ones under my protection! He's to be a peace offering for the Leader of the Norther Lions Tribe! Anyone that touches him picks a fight with me and the Swedes!"* Mathias's cruel voice shook over Tino's ears. In an instant the foul Danish hand that had held him capture grew rigid before setting him free. Tino trotted away blindly before breathing heavily. He needed air. Oh how he needed air.
He closed his eyes tight before looking back up to Mathias. A sly grin on his face.
The Danish leader held his arms wide and shoved them sky ward, a backdrop of cliff shards and verdant land invaded Tino's eye sight. He gasped at the sheer size of the looming cliffs.
"Welcome Tino! To the land of the Swedes!" He cackled. Tino's blood ran cold.
Tino was thrown onto the back of a pile of clean blankets and smocks. After the boat had been docked and all the Danish soldiers and sailors had dismounted the huge vessel, Mathias had ordered that Tino was to be dressed and cleaned up quickly in one of the cabins. Tino had protested greatly, until Mathias had threatened to club him again in the back of the head. After that, Tino cooperated.
A few minutes later and Tino's dank and bloodied clothing was discarded and placed on a heap in the floor, the cabin boy helping him to slip into a powered blue tunic that complimented his violet eyes. Along with tanned breaches and a flaxen blue cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders by a broach of abalone, Tino was allowed to go outside. There he was escorted down the huge and towering serpentine boat by a row of rough looking men, all with threatening glares.
Tino tugged his hands away more than twice when a few of the new and strangely tall men offered to help him off the boat. Tino would not take their kindness, he was much too stubborn and pissed off at the moment. And scared. Very scared. But he would swallow his fears and endure. Mathias had kept him alive and brought him here to the land of the Lions for a reason. One he hoped that did not involve his head on a silver platter.
But Tino wanted answers. Why had he been spared? Why had he been dragged through sea and rock and foam to the Island of the Swedes? Tino had only heard in tales and lore of the Swedish warriors strength and brutality. They were almost as frighting and dogmatic as the Danes. Almost.
Tino upturned his eyes to see that along all the row of soldiers he was being barricaded by, small jolts of curious stares and murmurers greeted him from the native folk. Tino walked through the twists and turns of a small village, though it seemed to be only temporarily built, as the small huts of hide and tanned skins were connected by thin sinew ropes and shoddy willow branches. Tino gazed on, puzzlement breaching his features.
Why would he have been brought here, all the way to this tribe of Swedish vikings, when Mathias could have easily just killed him where he stood? Tino frowned deeply. Perhaps the Dane was more stupid than he looked.
Tino bit the inside of his lip and trotted along, a few soldiers nudging his elbow to make him walk faster. He was about to yell at one who had struck his shoulder in an attempt to keep him moving when he felt a thin piece of cord wrap around his waist. Tino's eyes widened before he turned around to see Mathias, his grin ever apparent, the end of a brightly decorated leather cord wrapped in his fists. The leather was jeweled with bright amber and the color of deep amethyst that matched his eyes.
Tino glared at him. "Speak Viking. Why have you brought me here?" Tino growled. He was a man damnit, and he was going to act like it. He pushed and pulled at the extension of leather.
Mathias just laughed and pulled on the leash tighter. "As you know, little Tino, the Danes and the Swedes often fight constantly."
Tino ground his teeth at the 'little' part, but nodded curtly.
"Well, it seems that now they both have a common enemy. The Russians." Mathias's grin looked completely wild as he looked ahead of them.
"The damn Russian's have been edging on our territory, first in parts of Sweden and now Denmark. They have been attacking our settlements all along the North and South and have burned many of our towns to the ground. Its unacceptable." He growled out.
Tino looked quizzically at him. He could feel the towns people around him fixing their eyes on him. It made Tino shiver. Why was he getting all this attention? Did he look so foreign to them? Was it his small size? Or maybe his eyes? Tino bit his lip. He was beginning to start to wish for death. He knew what the Swedes were capable of, heard stories of their cruelties to their neighboring countries. Tino had no sudden urge to be under the mercy of a Swedish viking, and he hoped he never would.
"So, the Swedish leader of the Northern Lions Tribe and I made a deal. We would both hold our fighting of each other in order to exterminate the Russian invaders." Mathias smiled brightly.
Tino bit his lip, afraid to ask the question that was pestering and fluttering in his mind.
"So...Why am I here? Why did you not kill me? You mentioned something about me being a peace offering. Am I to be a slave?" Tino muttered, his voices still ringing with bitterness. Mathias chuckled.
"Those questions will soon be answered, but first, I think you will like to see the surprise I have for you." With that, Mathias un-clipped the leather lead rope from Tino's body and pushed Tino into a clump of brownish thronged tarps.
Tino yelped quickly before landing flat on his face on the straw covered floor of the musty hut. He winced and rubbed his sore head. He blinked a few times before he lifted his head, and when he did, he felt his jaw drop and his eye begin to water.
Sitting, just as wide eyed, was a lithe and startled looking Nikolas. Tino and Nikolas stared at each other with bewilderment for a good three seconds before Tino cried out.
"Cousin!" He yelped, crawling to the arms of his now baffled and crying cousin. Nikolas wrapped his arms tightly around the small frame of the Finn before spasmodically kissing his brow and the top of his head. The two cousins let out shuttering sobs before Nikolas's voice finally regained composure.
"Tino, my dear cousin! Why are you here? Is this a vision? A cruel joke? Or are you really in my arms?" Nikolas's voice was hoarse from crying. Tino sniffed and sat up, looking his cousin dead in the eye. The eyes of his friend and kin that he was so sure he had lost a year ago. It was like a dream.
"I am here cousin, and I will do everything in my power to save you from the vikings and this horrible place!" Tino's voice shook with determination as he held his cousins hands. He looked into his cousin's eyes and saw something shift in those neutral orbs.
"I cannot Tino, I am needed here." The words stung the Finn right through the heart. Tino starred at him with disbelief. Nikolas's eyes grew neutral, like the slowly setting sun as winter holds it in its clutches.
"Wh...What?" Tino asked, his voice choking. Did he just hear correctly?
"I'm sorry Tino, but, this past year has changed me. I thought the vikings were ruthless and cruel, but they are just another tribe, like our own at home, trying to survive."
Tino dropped his jaw low to the floor. "What? Do you even know what you're saying? They slaughtered our village!" Tino's voice was shattered with anger and frustration. He grabbed Nikolas's tunic by the fists, noticing with annoyance that it was made by the wool of the thick and sturdy Danish and Swedish breeds. Well, he had certainly gotten cozy with the invaders.
Nikolas frowned deeply. He seemed torn emotionally, but finally he spoke, low and warning.
"You're wrong Tino. They attacked for good reason." Nikolas stared at his cousin dead in the face. Tino sat their baffled, the tears slowly drying from his now heated face.
"How could thier killing be justified?" He whispered harsly, noticing Björt sleeping in a small crib beside a bigger four poster bed, one that Tino was sure Nikolas shared with Mathias. He scowled with disgust.
"Tino... Some of the men and women in our village were traitors. They had been working with the Russians to over thrown our city capital. Why do you think the Danes would even travel so far to the confines of Helsinki? They feared another tribe of Russian's would claim the city, extending their territories through the Nordic countries. Mathias was just... making sure the city never toppled. He is an idiot, but he has a good heart."
"By killing people? He's a monster!" Tino was on the verge of tears again. Nikolas sighed and shook him with his hands very lightly.
"Tino! Tino, listen! They were traitors! Why do you think only a few men and women were killed? The rest of us were spared... The Danish only killed the people working under the Russians. The Slavic's would have attacked the village by the end of the month had it not been for Mathias's crew. " Nikolas breathed out harshly. But Tino would have none of it. Tino knew that it had taken Nikolas a long time to figure out and piece this information together and form his reasons based on his emotions. He had a year to resolve his hate of the vikings. Tino had only a few minutes to make his judgement of them.
Nikolas sat up wearily and walked to a small wooden crib lined with rabbits furs and woolen swatches. Tino crawled over to the crib and watched as Nikolas wrapped the sleeping Björt up closer in the hides. The babe must be no older than four years. Tino's face shifted to heated concern. If what Nikolas told him was true, then Mathias, no matter how cruel, was perhaps saving the viliage from a more horrible fate the Danish vikings. But still, it should not have been resorted to murder.
"This settlement is no place to raise a baby Nikolas, no matter how much sympathy you have for these murderous barbarians." Tino's voice was bitter, cold. He could not believe his cousin would think about even staying here. Tino could hardly stand staying here for another minute.
"Thats just it Tino. I'm safe here. Mathias has given Björt an education and me a home. I am a valued person in this tribe, I am the only healer in the area for miles. I have great power and I am respected. Plus, I am in love..." Nikolas looked back to the Finn. His face lined with a small scent of doubt.
"Love?" Tino squeaked. He scrunched up his face and snarled.
"With who?" He whispered harshly, minding the sleeping babe.
Nikolas shifted his gaze and bit his lip. "It is hard to believe myself, but I've fallen for the brutish Dane... He may be of of the most stupidest, foolish, idiotic, perverted, and insane man that I have ever met... But he cares for me."
"You mean Mathias?" Tino gawked, his face boiling.
Nikolas nodded, his face neutral, blank. Tinos eyes riveted on the verge of insanity.
"After hes proved himself to be a murderer! Nikolas..." Tino began but was cut off. A shift and slither of the thick and heavy tarps were drawn away and Mathias stood in the shaded area of the opening. Tino frowned deeply. He was not in a happy Finnish-go-lucky mood. He was pissed off and damn if he was going to try to hide it.
"Sorry to cut the reunion short Norge, but I need Tino for a moment." Mathias grinned a great and big boyish smile. Nikolas's eyes widened.
"Mathias, I don't think this is a good idea anymore. Tino is here now, I don't want him to be put into anymore danger..." Nikolas sat up and walked over to the Dane, his tunic shifting, robes dragging against the hay filled floor.
"Norge, we had a deal."
"Screw the deal Mathias. Tino isn't strong enough for this! I don't care if you want him as a peace offering! Hes a human being and I will not have him be bound down by someone else's will!" Nikolas shouted. A wail was heard and Björt began to stir from the confines of his crib. Nikolas gave out a frustrated breath before collecting the babe in his arms and hushing him. Tino started to the two adults, confusion plastered on his face like an ugly scar.
"Tino will be fine. He'll work as your assistant healer for the two tribes. Berwald will treat him well..." Mathias reasoned, holding Nikolas's forearms gently. Tino looked taken aback. He was so sure that the Dane didn't have a gentle bone in his body. Perhaps looks could be deceiving.
Nikolas stared long and hard at the Dane, annoyance painting his features like a wonderfully dull tapestry.
"No. I trust Berwald but I don't think this will be good for Tino."
"Nikolas, whats going on..." Tino breathed, looking to his cousin who would not meet his eyes. The Norsemen frowned and kept his face blank.
"The leader to the Northern tribe's son is sick Tino. I am only one healer. I need another one to look after the boy while I tend to the wounded soldiers. I knew you had been practicing the art of medicine so I thought I should bring you here to help look after the boy. I thought you could help look after the leaders sick son...I missed you so much, and I did not want you to lead your life thinking that I was dead...I begged Mathias to bring you back to me, but he had to ask the permission of the Northern Tribes leader..." Nikolas swallowed hard.
"The Swedish leader agreed to finance your trip here and to let you try to heal his son as my assistant, but at a price... I'm sorry Tino, but I couldn't bare to know that you were all alone on that small sea port! I'm sorry!" Nikolas's characteristiclly blank face smashed into a thousand pieces and he clung to Björts small frame. But Nikolas's face still was a bit hardened. He was afraid of something, but he would not show his fear fully.
The baby wailed and twisted in his brothers arms. Nikolas did nothing to soothe the baby's stubborn protests.
"What was the price Nikolas?" Tino's voice was shaking. Mathias gripped his arm tightly, dragging him through the tarp.
"What was the price Nikolas!" Tino screamed as he was dragged out the hut and onto the lush green grasses that had been stamped out by the feet of war ponies. Tino felt his heart beating wildly in his chest. Mathias kept tugging at his arm.
"I'm sorry Tino, but it was either this or you be killed by the Russian vikings when they invaded!" Nikolas whispered to himself as he watched his cousin being dragged to one of the more grander and fashionable huts.
Tino kicked and screamed with all his might, causing quite a scene.
"Let go of me! Perkele!" Tino twisted and fought, trying to wriggle out of Mathias's strong grip.*
"Calm down, I'm just taking ya' to see the little sick brat! Ya have ta' cure him, remember? Your knowledge of illnesses is important to the connected tribes. If the Swede's leader's son dies, then my end of the bargain is ruined. I need you to keep the damned child alive to keep the peace between the Danes and the Swedes. If the kid dies, the rest of us go to war with the lions tribes, and these Swedes are some sick fucks at war." Mathias said, his sharp teeth gleaming, his red woolen coat wrapping around him in the breeze.
Tino growled. Under normal circumstances he would have been quite cheery and pleasant. He would have been happy to help a sick or injured child. But not now, not when he was had no real idea what was going on. Damn the Danes and damn the Swedes!
As Tino kept struggling the Swedish and few Danish people began to take notice. Almost at once all of the blue and sharp green eyes of the Swedes were on him, with questioning looks, some even giggling or chuckling. Tino did not find this amusing. Not one bit.
He fought wildly and fiercely, like a trapped trout in a net, its silvery body flaunting and twisting. Tino would not give up without a fight.
But all to soon he was pushed, faced to face in front of the confines of another tent, this time one larger and of a richer brown hide, probably deer. The inklings of faded branded spirals and wisps of banners cascaded and whip lashed against the high peeked tent. Tino swallowed hard. A huge shield was crested over the front of the tent, its colors dark and out stretched. A huge roaring lion with fierce blue eyes stared into Tino's soul. He bit his lip.
Mathias smirked before hastily pushing Tino through the leather flaps, the little Finn stumbling in the process. He gave a startled yelp before landing face first in the hay scattered room. Mathias laughed abruptly.
Once he lifted his head he could see that he was in the room of someone of great importance. Stretched on the walls of the tarps were glorious flags of battle, each with crown wearing lions, drawn in bright yellow paint and the most richest of blues Tino had ever seen. To the left of the hut was a low set wooden table, stuffed to the brim with little flasks and bottles, bundles of herbs and flowers and a small mortar and pestle. Tino recognized it as a medical table. A small smoldering stump of a candle was poised near a iron cauldron. He began to grow curious.
As his eyes scanned to the middle of the hut he could see a big four poster bed that seemed to be empty, the furs and blankets strewn messily, as if the sleeper hadn't gotten a good nights rest. But...on closer inspection, Tino could see a small mass of blankets that were bundled up tight. A mess of dirty blonde hair peeked up from the small head, two incredibly bushy eyebrows to complete the child's face. Then Tino saw him...
There was a man, but not just any man. A crouched figure who looked to be taller than Tino and maybe even Mathias. Tino held his breath.
The crouched man was clinging to the hand of the small boy wrapped up in a mound of blankets. The mans eyes were close tight and his mouth was clenched, as if he was praying something to the Gods. Tino felt this throat grow dry. The mans clothes were dirty and a bit scuffled, but still in pristine condition, with rich golds and vibrant blues. This was a man of great importance.
"Hey, Berwald. I got that surprise I promised ya'!" Mathias chucked and nudged Tino up with his arms. Tino ground his teeth, trying to wiggle free from the Danes grip.
"'m not 'n tha' mood t' pl'y g'mes..." The harsh and rough voice of the man softly pressed into Tino ears, and the Finn couldn't help but shiver...Wait... Shiver? Tino's eyes widened.
"Come on! I promised ya' something good, didn't I? Its the new healer, Nikolas's cousin. The one I brought back from Helsinki to save yer' little Peter..."
At the mention of 'little Peter', the man looked up, eyes slowly sliding open. Tino gasped.
Those eyes looked to be like those of a wild Siberian Tiger. The sea green orbs were startlingly bright and glaring against the mans pale bone colored face. The eyes, like crystalline daggers, looked to be melting in with Tino's very soul and he shivered. This man was dangerous.
"hmm..." He let out a low rumbled that made Tino jump and squeak in an unmanly manner. Scared? Who, him?
"Well, don't just stand there! Take a look at the peace offering I'm giving you! Apparently he's an educated healer. I thought he could help yer son!" Mathias smiled brightly, a grin gracing his lips. Tino threw a glare at him before noticing that the brutishly tall man with the sharp flaxen colored hair had indeed stood up and was walking towards Tino. He swallowed hard.
Perhaps it was the fact that he was as tall as an ash tree, or maybe that his eyes to be like a roaring ocean after a destructive storm, but the man did look handsome, in a barbaric sort of way. His height was intimidating, but the way he walked was quiet, almost humbling, and his high set features and chiseled jaw only heightened the naturally rugged good looks he had. Plus, his evident muscles and strong looking chest were a nice feature to look at...Tino felt his face heat up. This man was gorgeous.
But...Tino was also more than certain that this man was an enemy. This thought helped Tino keep the raging red blush from his pale little face, and the rigid sensation that was building up in his pants, cool down.
The man, Berwald-as Mathias called him, finally stood in front of Tino and starred. Just stared. This made Tino blink a few times before he finally found his voice.
"Is that your son?" He asked quietly. Berwald raised his eyebrows before turning his powerfully built body behind him. Tino bit his lip with fright. So much for Mr. Macho Finn.
"Hmmmm..." Tino took that as a 'yes'.
"'s been s'ck fer' the p'st week..." Berwald's voice sounded tired and worn, like he had been sitting up all night in hopes that his son's illness would evaporate into thin air. It made Tino feel a bit better about the man.
Tino bit his lip but slowly and hesitantly walked over to were the wheezing and sleepy looking boy lay. Tino knelt by the big bushy brow child who looked no more than seven years of age. The child's face was as pale as a fishes belly, and skin just as cold. But he seemed to be sweating like an ox that had been attached to a yolk for days. Tino did not like the look of this child's health. It would take more than a good nights sleep to make him well again.
"Has he eaten anything strange in the past day? Or played outside when it was raining?" Tino asked quietly. He dug underneath the blankets and furs and produced the child's chilled hand. He lightly squeezed it, searching for the pulse. It was faint, but there just the same. The child sniffled, his nose a cheery red.
"'s been eat'n allr'ght...meat n' b'ead m'stly... A bit'a soup... He pl'yed in ta' rain a bit l'st week..." Berwald answered, his eyes fixed on Tino like he was some exotic creature. Tino lowered his gaze, his blush back in place.
"Keep him in doors, and close the tarps at all times during the night to keep in the warm air, but opened slightly at day for the fresh breeze. For the next few days I'll give him a sleeping draught to help him get more sleep, also, no more bread. Just some meat broth with some soft vegetables. Chicken or rabbit would be best, no carrots in the broth." Tino muttered off other bits and pieces of remedies and medicine, counting them off of his petite little hand. Berwald listening intently.
"So, I take it then your going to look after him?" Mathias grinned, leaning against a oaken chair, a plated skin of a reindeer laid lazily atop it.
Tino bit his lip. He could stay here with Nikolas and test the waters with the barbarians. Or... he could get his skull split open by the Russians back home...Tino sighed.
"Yes, I will stay. But you must do everything I say, or else I fear this child will not live to see another winter." Tino sat up and moved away from the bed.
"I'll do everything I can to help your son." Tino stared at Berwald, trying his best to not meet his eyes, but a small smile graced the Finns face.
"Nnnn... Th'nk ya."
"See Berwald! I did good right? I hope you enjoy your present, hes quite a little spitfire this one! I suppose this means the peace offering between the Danes and Swede's is solid?" Mathias grinned wildly.
"What is this I keep hearing about a peace treaty?" Tino finally whispered harshly.
"Like I said, Danes and Swedes are not great friends. So, we each gave each other something along the lines of a gift of piece. Berwald gave me the use of his war ponies for my troops, and as much of his forests timbers and I gave him you." Mathias grinned cheekily, pushing Tino into the chest of Berwald with one quick swipe.
Tino squeaked loudly, pushing against the solid and oh-so-nicely-built chest in front of him. The little Finn did his best to back away from the taller Swede, but a muscular arm held him in place.
"Nnnn...Ja M'th'as. I acc'pt yur p'ace offerin'. He'll m'ke a good w'fe..." Berwald muttered, looking down at the now wide eyed Finn.
Tino's jaw dropped, as an eloquent "Eh?" peeked out from those pink little lips.
"Tino, your payment for the trip here was gracelessly financed by Berwald. So, in return he wished that you become his bride. I hope you have fun with your new husband! Take care of him Berwald, he sure is fragile." Mathias cackled before leisurely exiting the tarp hut. leaving Tino to stutter against a well toned chest, solid arms holding him in place gently.
"W'lc'me m' w'fe, ta' your new h'me..." Berwald's glare faded and instead became a softened smile. Tino stared into those greenish river stone colored eyes and did the first thing that came to mind. He Screamed.
Oh Tino, I feel so bad for youuuuu! *laughs maniacally*
I know I know, not many of Y'all like "manly Tino' but seriously, Finland kicked the Soviet Unions ass in WWII, I think Tino deserves a little bit of manly attitude. But don't worry, now that he's met Berwald he'll resume to his cutesy (yet manly) little self. 3 Sorry this chapter is so damn heavy and scary guys. Next ones will be better, I promise 3
-"He had to live on and wait out the night when the Dane's left the shores of his homeland."- The Danes have invaded Finland twice, in 1191 and in 1202, though I have no real time frame of when this story takes place, I'm not basing this on any historical records 3
-"The Danes had docked near the ports along Helsinki, leaving barely an hours time for the Finn's to get ready for battle."-Helsinki is the capital of Finland
-"Now it seemed the battle was over, as Tino witnessed the hated vibrant black of the ravened flag whip-lashing across the once peaceful sky of Finland."- The Raven banner is very famous in Viking lore, but there are speculations as to which tribes used it and what it really meant. Basically it is a spherical banner with ringlets of black with a soaring raven on it to represent Odin's ravens.
-"Hey! This ones under my protection! He's to be a peace offering for the Leader of the Norther Lions Tribe! Anyone that touches him picks a fight with me and the Swedes!"-Berwald looks like a lion. 'nuff said.
-""Let go of me! Perkele!" Tino twisted and fought, trying to wriggle out of Mathias's strong grip."- Perkele= Finnish swear word like 'fuck'