Min Familie

~ Sverige ~

For a particular young Swedish boy, the day had been exhausting and full of non-stop surprises.
This boy, who went by the name of Berwald, represented the land of Sweden. Subsequently, he was treated badly and looked down upon by the villagers. Therefore, he had woken up at dawn to go and hunt for food, a few spears in his hands. As he walked through the forest, he brushed his long hair out of his face, although that didn't really help the boy's vision, which was not the best. It had been like that for as long as the boy could remember, but he'd adapted to it now, so it had never really bothered him.
After just half an hour of walking aimlessly, Berwald stumbled upon a large deer. Perfect. He crouched behind a bush and waited for the perfect opportunity. When the deer began to graze, Berwald silently rose to his feet, threw his arm back, a spear in his hand, and hurled the sharp blade towards the dear. He expected it to hit he deer which, of course, it did, but what he never expected was for the spear to come flying right back at him, causing him to dive to the side, just missing it.
The boy was, understandably, confused when he stood, picking the spear up, and was even more baffled when he found that his spear was still lodged into the deer's ribcage, the metal piercing it's flesh. Besides it, there was a large hole, penetrating the body, where a spear had gone right through the deer's fragile frame. He walked over to the deer, and his gaze went from his own spear to the one in his palm.
He was caught off guard when someone shouted,
"Hey! That's mine! Get away, you thief!"
With a rapid turn of his heel, Berwald was facing the direction of the voice. Running over to him was another Viking, roughly the same height as Berwald.
"No, it was mine." The Swede retorted angrily, "I hunted it, and I shot it with my spear."
The other man, clearly just as frustrated as Berwald, replied, "But that spear you hold in your hand, that is mine! You're lying and-" Without warning, his words halted. His eyebrows raised and then scrunched back together.
Pointing to Berwald's blade, he muttered, "But that is not my blade."
Rolling his eyes, Berwald answered, "Yeah, I know. It's my blade. Like I said, I caught it."
The other Viking shook his head. He pulled the leather strap, which connected to his shield, and twisted it so that the large wooded shield faced him. As he traced the markings on it, he seemed to be deep in thought.
It was then that our boy became aware of a tingling sensation in my chest. It was a feeling that he had never felt before. Although the other boy, who had hair that stocked up slightly, a contrast to our boy's flat locks, appeared to be a threat to Berwald, he couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity. His conscience was telling him to trust the other. Before his thoughts could devour him, the other man spoke.
"Do you...feel it too...?" He'd asked, "A tingly sort of feeling, right in your heart. It's a nice feeling. Although I've never had one of my own, it reminds me of what a home is."
Baffled that this man had felt the exact same way, our boy nodded, "Ja. I do. Does that mean..." In a hushed voice he asked, "Do you represent land too?"
Suddenly, the other grinned, "Yeah! I do! You do too?! That's awesome! I've never met anyone like me! I bet you the humans treat you like crap, don't the-" Instinctively, Berwald clamped his palm tightly against his newfound acquaintance, muffling his speech. In a low hiss, he warned, "Shut up, or you'll get us both killed! If I remove my hand, will you shut up for two damn seconds?" He watched the other personification, whose expression was a mix of fear, confusion, and a slight twinge of guilt. Removing his large hand, he brushed it against his shirt.
"Yes, I am like you. And yes, I am usually treated badly. Are you?"
Nodding, the boy answered, "Oh, ja." Suddenly, the boy's ginormous smile vanished, and his expression made him look almost vulnerable, "They hurt me, a lot. They...they think we are going to join the giants, I mean, when Ragnarök* begins, and that we're just like Loki, that we help only when it benefits us. They beat me, and kick me, and sometimes they throw me in the cold rivers." After only a brief pause, the other's smile returned, "Anyway, I represent Denmark! I'm guessing you represent Sweden, right? I mean, were in Sweden so-"
"Yeah. I do represent Sweden." There was a pause, and the Dane seemed to be thinking. After a good ten minutes, he smiled in conclusion.
"Right, so, Sweden-"
Berwald quickly intervened, "Call me Berwald."
Sheepishly chuckling, the Dane continued, "Oh, yeah, Berwald - I'm Mathias by the way - how about this; we share the deer, and team up. It'll be easier if we work together! What do you say, huh?"
Berwald had to think for a moment. Yes, this guy - Mathias - was the most annoying person he had ever met, but at least he understands the problems and troubles of being a nation, and like Mathias said, working together would be better...

With a smile, Berwald answered, "Yes."

*Ragnarök - or, in English, Ragnarok, is the "Doom of the Gods". It is a series of apocalyptic events, namely between the Gods and the Giants. Loki, the trickster God, decides to team with the Giants. He is seen as an evil trickster, which is what Mathias was referencing to.

A/N - So that this story makes sense, I have adopted the headcannon that all the nations can all understand each other, regardless of the languages they're speaking.
For example, Berwald is speaking Swedish as its, of course, his native language, and Mathias is speaking Danish, his native tongue. Even still, they can both understand each other.
Now, I'm already aware that Danish and Swedish (Along with Norwegian) sound similar, as they all come from Norse, but they're actually quite different. Or at least, different enough for there to be a language barrier.
Another quick example, is Arthur could be speaking English, Francis could be speaking French, and they'd still understand each other despite having no knowledge of the other language.
I did this because, if not, then Berwald and Mathias wouldn't have been able to understand each other, and they wouldn't have teamed up.
Or, of course, we could have the nations be able to speak every single language in existence, which would be rather far fetched, or horrifically convenient, wouldn't it?