From February 1808 to September 1809, the Finnish War was fought between the Russian Empire and the Kingdom of Sweden. Following the war, the eastern third of Sweden was established as the autonomous Grand Duchy of Finland within the Russian Empire. Among the lands, the Åland Islands were one of the pieces ceded to Russia when the Treaty of Fredrikshamn was signed in September of 1809. It was a time Åland knew too well, a painful memory she remembered all too clearly.
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1809
Sweden fell to his knees, his breathing shaking and heavy. How did it come to this? Losing a battle to the likes of him.
"It seems I have won, da?" The tall, light blonde male spoke calmly, taking slow steps to the fallen Swede. "I think you know what I want. You understand?"
Sweden glared up at the Russian from behind his cracked, dust covered lenses. "Y...Y'can't..."
"Ah, but see, I can~" Russia knelt to him, placing his gloved hand underneath the male's chin, firmly holding him in place. "It's clear you lost, so I'll be taking what I have won."
"Papa!"
At the sound of the small voice, Sweden forced himself out of Russia's grip and was met with two arms tightly holding onto him.
"Ål'nd what're y'doing here?!" Hearing the normally silent Swede so loud and scared was truly a rare sight. "Y'have t'go!"
"But Papa I can't leave you! You're injured and--" The smaller territory was grabbed by the Russian, a eerily sweet smile on his face as he held onto her.
"You're mine now, little one," he said in that sickly sweet tone. "Come with me now."
There wasn't a time to think of anything to say as Åland was dragged away from Sweden, her feet digging within the ground in vain attempts to slow him down.
"Papa! Help me! Get him off of me! Papa!" Åland fought against his grip but to no avail, and Sweden couldn't do a thing as he watched Åland disappear with the Russian into the distance.
"...'m s'rry, Ål'nd..."
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1862
"M-Miss Åland are you alright?"
The voice of one of the trembling Baltic states snapped the young territory from her thoughts as she gazed up at him, some of her blonde hair falling from its pinned up bun. A thick Swedish accent came through with her words. "Ah, Lithuania. Yes, I'm fine."
"You were extremely zoned out there," he noted, handing her a small, yet piping hot cup of tea. "Gazing out the window for quite awhile actually. Does the snow look that interesting?" He tried to poke a little fun in the awkward situation.
"Heh. The snow is lovely," she admitted, carefully sipping some of her tea she was given. "But no. I was just...thinking about other things. It's nothing, really."
Lithuania had his doubts, and after offering to sit next to her, which she said yes to, he situated himself beside her and joined her gaze out the window. "How long has it been?" he asked after the silence settled.
"Fifty years," Åland answered monotonously. "And all the citizens have given their loyalty to the empire." Silence. "And fifty years since I've seen Sweden...Fifty years since Finland and I, along with the others, have been taken from him..."
"N-Now I wouldn't say taken--"
"He took us okay?" Åland snapped at him, her voice full of pain. "Treaty or not, we were taken from Sweden!"
Lithuania's face read a painful expression before Åland eased up.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have snapped like that..."
"N-No I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."
Åland lowered her gaze to the still steamy cup of tea. It had cooled a little by this point, but was clearly still hot. "I just want to return to Sweden. Go back to what I used to be, what we used to be..." Her voice nearly cracked as she tightened her hold on her drink.
"Åland...I believe that...that you will return to Mr. Sweden soon." Lithuania's voice held a genuine tone. "While it could be awhile, I still believe you will return to Sweden eventually."
Åland painfully smiled. "It's a lovely thought, Lithuania. Thank you."
The idea of that followed her day and night for years. It would then turn into a question that would constantly haunt her.
Will I ever return to him...?
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1899
"Now, Åland. Today I will teach you the Russian language. Are you ready?"
Russia stood before the silent territory, chalk and a board at hand, ready to write down the different letters and sentences he had prepared. All the while, the same smile, that sweet, falsely innocent smile, was on his face.
"We'll start with the alphabet so please pay attention."
"Som om...*" the girl uttered beneath her breath as the male began writing on the board.
"I'm going to assume you said "yes sir" for both our sakes," Russia said, not appearing irritated by Åland's tone, but clearly sounding it. "Now the alphabet is quite simple once you understand its sounds. Some even appear the way they sound for you, so that should be better."
The lesson carried on as Russia pointed out the sounds each letter made, and showed her how to write them as well. Their lesson started to conclude when he decided to teach her how her name would be spelled and pronounced from now on.
"Since you will be learning this language I will expect you to at least attempt to speak it as you learn," Russia explained. "Do you understand, Аландские*?"
The sound of her name in his language made her sick to her stomach. To think in her life she would have to hear that.
"Ja..." she answered, replying in her native tongue to spite him.
"Ah? What was that?" Clearly he was not playing games, and witnessing his actions to the Baltic States, she knew that well.
"...Да..."
"Хороший!* You will be learning in no time!"
This began the attempt to Russificate those within the Grand Duchy of Finland.
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1917
In December of 1917, Finland managed to grab its independence from Russia after nearly twenty years of failed Russification. The news made Åland's heart flip, and she nearly broke down in tears when she met Finland once again.
"Come on, Åland. Let's go home."
The two wasted no time returning to their land, and they were both immediately greeted by Sweden, an action so rare for him, but none of them cared at this point, for the reuniting of these three was indeed a moment of happiness that even moved Sweden near to tears. However being the strong type he was, he held them back, taking a deep, shaky breath as he did.
"I m'ssed y'two," he sighed out, holding them close and never wanting to let go.
"We missed you too, Mr. Sweden," Finland replied, returning the hug just as tightly as he allowed the tears to stream down his face unlike Sweden.
"N-Now now guys. C'mon no tears," Åland's voice betrayed her, but her smile turned it around. "Wh-Why not celebrate instead? I'm sure we can cook up something delicious for a reunion! Papa, I've been dying to have your famous meatballs again!"
Sweden happily sighed out, missing the call of her voice. "Anyth'ng f'you guys." But before he left go, he gave a final tight hug. "I'm n'ver losing y'guys again."
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*Som om (Swedish): As if
*Аландские (Russian): Alandskie/Åland
*Хороший (Russian): Good!
