[Hetalia] DenNor Christmas fucking full one-shot fanfic
Title: Raidings
Author: traumschwinge
Wordcount: about 1700
Characters: Norway, Denmark
Fandom: Axis Powers: Hetalia
Universe: Viking-age
Rating: Teen for violence
Summary: In the middle of the winter, the small village Lukas is living in is attacked. He fights with all the other men, but to no avail. In the end, he's defeated and taken by the attackers.
A/N: One of my Christmas Drabbles '13, this one for my Nymama and Papa Söri.
Masterpost of Christmas Drabbles (tumblr)
[Original Story]Gods' Dystopia Drabble (other journal)
[Hetalia]Snowrabbit Drabble
[BBC Sherlock]Sour Christmas, Merry Christmas
[Team Fortress 2] Stalker Drabble
In the middle of the night, all the tiny seaside village is on its feet. The alarm was being sounded. People ran around, grabbing a few necessities, dragging their children away with them as they flee. Ships, foreign ships was called by oh so many throats and picked up by even more. Women and a few men headed for the nearby woods to hide and protect the children who are not yet old enough to fight. Everyone else readied themselves to fight.
It would only be a short while until the ships would reach the shore close to the village and land there.
Lukas gripped the handle of his spear tighter. For what felt like the thousandth time, he checked his shield, made sure he had it in a tight grip as well and that it was securely strapped to his arm. They hadn't been in a fight for weeks. All the men had agreed that no treasure in the world was worth the risk of the sea in mid-winter and so their ship had stayed in harbor to await the coming of spring. Too bad that it most likely wouldn't live to that now. It was a fine ship, Lukas thought with a sigh. Now, it would no doubt be sunk by their attackers or at least damaged. He just hoped they would be able to protect it.
A group of men hurried towards the spot where they estimated the ships to land, hiding in the shadows and using the fact that they knew this place as good as anyone could to their advantage, hiding to attack the poor fools when they disembarked and were careless. Lukas followed the other men.
The men on the ships weren't careless, though. When the ships landed, there was a moment when nothing happened. And that moment dragged on. It dragged on long enough so the villagers started to get uneasy, wondering what was wrong and if they should just board the nearest ship. Then, suddenly, a call from the biggest of the ships.
For a moment, it looked like countless red, flaring stars had appeared aboard the ships. Lukas stared, raising his shield as he recognized the stars for what they truly were. Flaming arrows. With terror, he saw the swarm of fiery projectiles flying over his head, some of them hitting the area around him, at least one of them finding its target in one of the men around him.
The moments confusion had been well used by the men on the ships. At least from two of them, they had stormed out, charging towards the village. The snow wasn't enough to stop or even delay them. Lukas had just enough time to lower his shield before there was a man in front of him, raising his sword. Lukas blocked the blow with his shield, but the sheer force made him stumble backwards. His opponent was a grown man, he himself only a mere lad, just barely grown old enough to be fighting. But Lukas wouldn't have let that stop himself. He lunged forward, spear ready to be pushed into flesh. The man hadn't seen the counterattack coming, Lukas felt the tip of his spear hit resistance and he pushed it further forward. The man gasped, followed by a gurgling sound. But Lukas had no time to be pleased with this, not even enough time to think that he had just killed a man for the first time in his life. There already were two more men coming at him.
The night was constantly getting brighter, the light and warmth a telling sign that some of the arrows-or men with torches-had found their way to the village's houses. The two men attacking Lukas slowly forced him back, back towards the village. No matter how good he defended himself, how well he aimed his blows, he felt already tired. He knew he couldn't win. Still, he managed to strike down another man, but the other used the opening Lukas had granted in the process to aim a blow at Lukas' head. He brought his shield back up, stumbling, but the blow knocked his arm against his head and sent him to the ground. Bright lights danced before Lukas' eyes, before they were consumed by all-encompassing darkness.
***
Lukas woke. He had no idea what time it was, he had no idea where he was. He wasn't lying in the snow outside what had been his village. He felt like he was lying on damp wood. Moving, damp wood. His hands were tied. He couldn't suppress a shudder when he realized his fate. They had taken him onto their ship. They would sell him as a slave, he though. Or worse.
***
The days of travel aboard the ship passed slowly. Lukas was occasionally fed and watered. But apart from that, nothing much happened. Once, a man came to him, tall and blond and without a beard, and knelt down in front of Lukas, obviously to muster him. Then, the man had talked to one of the others, one Lukas hadn't been bale to see. Lukas couldn't understand him. But he thought he heard a few familiar words in there. Children. Home. Happy.
Lukas closed his eyes. He had no idea what to make of that.
Then, the man had left him alone again, let him to think about his own family, or at least the people of the village he would never see again and whose fates he had no knowledge about. Had his father died in the fight? Was he now all alone, after his mother had died on them in childbed? It didn't matter, he told himself. There wasn't much hope he would ever get back there anyway.
***
A few days later, Lukas' feet were untied and he was pulled to his feet by the beardless man. “Come,” the man said as he dragged Lukas with him and off the ship. Lukas stumbled after him, yet unsure if he should fight or follow. They were in a village, much like the one Lukas had lived in until the attack. A small, natural harbor and a handful of houses all around it. People standing together in groups, many of them looking like families welcoming the men who had gone on raid and now returned.
The man looked around, obviously scanning the crowd in vain. Then, he sighed and headed to a house at the edge of the village. Lukas, hands still bound, had decided to follow for now and walked besides his captor, careful with every step lest not to tumble and fall.
The man pushed the door open and called something Lukas couldn't understand until he realized that he had called names, as there came two small children running towards the man, cheering and hugging his legs. The man laughed and hugged the children back. Lukas watched that quietly, waiting for the man to tell him what was expected of him. Lukas knew, if he didn't behave, the man might kill him. For now, Lukas thought it wiser to keep on living.
The children turned their attention now to him, having greeted the man in abundance for now. One of them asked the man something that sounded like him wanting to know who the stranger was. The man replied with help. Or at least, Lukas thought that was what he had been saying.
“What do you want from me?” Lukas asked later, when they were inside the house and alone. The man had not yet untied his hands.
“I need someone to look after my children,” the man said slowly, making sure Lukas would get his meaning by pointing at the children playing close to the fireplace.
“Why me?”
The man scratched the back of his head, hummed and hawed. When he finally decided to speak, he said, “I saw you lying there in the snow and liked you. I didn't want you to die there and, well, I hoped you would be nice.”
Lukas couldn't help but roll his eyes. This sounded ridiculously foolish. “You're an idiot,” Lukas said.
“Maybe,” the man acknowledged. He gestured towards the ropes around Lukas' wrists. “Promise me you won't harm the children?” On Lukas' nod, the man untied the ropes. “I'm Sören. What's your name?”
“Lukas,” Lukas mumbled, massaging his wrists where red marks showed that the rope had been there.
***
Winter passed more quickly in this village. Lukas was glad to finally leave that house again. Not that he had minded staying lately. He liked the children. Children, who had gladly accepted him as addition to their family and not only let him cook for them but also be their playmate. He hadn't even minded that idiot Sören that much, even though that man was occasionally staring at him which made Lukas want to punch him or else. Okay, maybe rather else.
But it was nice to see the sky again, bright and blue, and the sun shining down to get rid of the last patches of snow. The children ran about happily, not paying attention to him or Sören in any way as the two of them walked along the shore and left Sören's children play with the others from the village.
“Are you made I took you?” Sören asked after a while of silence.
Lukas shook his head. It surprised no one more than him, but he wasn't. “Actually, I'm glad,” he said, marveling where those words had come from and why they were true even though he hadn't known that before he had said them.
“How so?” Sören looked as astonished as Lukas felt.
“Home,” Lukas smiled. “I know you have gifted me to your children, or maybe gifted me to yourself, but … it feels like you have gifted me with home in the process. I like it here.” He didn't say the last two words of if. But Sören seemed to have picked them up just as well. He smiled.
“I love you, too,” Sören said. That earned him a punch and a grumble of I didn't say that.
Sören laughed at that. “But you meant it.”
With that, he pressed a kiss on Lukas' cheek.
“You really are a moron,” Lukas sighed with a roll of his eyes, before he took Sören's face in his hands and kissed him.
Author: traumschwinge
Wordcount: about 1700
Characters: Norway, Denmark
Fandom: Axis Powers: Hetalia
Universe: Viking-age
Rating: Teen for violence
Summary: In the middle of the winter, the small village Lukas is living in is attacked. He fights with all the other men, but to no avail. In the end, he's defeated and taken by the attackers.
A/N: One of my Christmas Drabbles '13, this one for my Nymama and Papa Söri.
Masterpost of Christmas Drabbles (tumblr)
[Original Story]Gods' Dystopia Drabble (other journal)
[Hetalia]Snowrabbit Drabble
[BBC Sherlock]Sour Christmas, Merry Christmas
[Team Fortress 2] Stalker Drabble
In the middle of the night, all the tiny seaside village is on its feet. The alarm was being sounded. People ran around, grabbing a few necessities, dragging their children away with them as they flee. Ships, foreign ships was called by oh so many throats and picked up by even more. Women and a few men headed for the nearby woods to hide and protect the children who are not yet old enough to fight. Everyone else readied themselves to fight.
It would only be a short while until the ships would reach the shore close to the village and land there.
Lukas gripped the handle of his spear tighter. For what felt like the thousandth time, he checked his shield, made sure he had it in a tight grip as well and that it was securely strapped to his arm. They hadn't been in a fight for weeks. All the men had agreed that no treasure in the world was worth the risk of the sea in mid-winter and so their ship had stayed in harbor to await the coming of spring. Too bad that it most likely wouldn't live to that now. It was a fine ship, Lukas thought with a sigh. Now, it would no doubt be sunk by their attackers or at least damaged. He just hoped they would be able to protect it.
A group of men hurried towards the spot where they estimated the ships to land, hiding in the shadows and using the fact that they knew this place as good as anyone could to their advantage, hiding to attack the poor fools when they disembarked and were careless. Lukas followed the other men.
The men on the ships weren't careless, though. When the ships landed, there was a moment when nothing happened. And that moment dragged on. It dragged on long enough so the villagers started to get uneasy, wondering what was wrong and if they should just board the nearest ship. Then, suddenly, a call from the biggest of the ships.
For a moment, it looked like countless red, flaring stars had appeared aboard the ships. Lukas stared, raising his shield as he recognized the stars for what they truly were. Flaming arrows. With terror, he saw the swarm of fiery projectiles flying over his head, some of them hitting the area around him, at least one of them finding its target in one of the men around him.
The moments confusion had been well used by the men on the ships. At least from two of them, they had stormed out, charging towards the village. The snow wasn't enough to stop or even delay them. Lukas had just enough time to lower his shield before there was a man in front of him, raising his sword. Lukas blocked the blow with his shield, but the sheer force made him stumble backwards. His opponent was a grown man, he himself only a mere lad, just barely grown old enough to be fighting. But Lukas wouldn't have let that stop himself. He lunged forward, spear ready to be pushed into flesh. The man hadn't seen the counterattack coming, Lukas felt the tip of his spear hit resistance and he pushed it further forward. The man gasped, followed by a gurgling sound. But Lukas had no time to be pleased with this, not even enough time to think that he had just killed a man for the first time in his life. There already were two more men coming at him.
The night was constantly getting brighter, the light and warmth a telling sign that some of the arrows-or men with torches-had found their way to the village's houses. The two men attacking Lukas slowly forced him back, back towards the village. No matter how good he defended himself, how well he aimed his blows, he felt already tired. He knew he couldn't win. Still, he managed to strike down another man, but the other used the opening Lukas had granted in the process to aim a blow at Lukas' head. He brought his shield back up, stumbling, but the blow knocked his arm against his head and sent him to the ground. Bright lights danced before Lukas' eyes, before they were consumed by all-encompassing darkness.
***
Lukas woke. He had no idea what time it was, he had no idea where he was. He wasn't lying in the snow outside what had been his village. He felt like he was lying on damp wood. Moving, damp wood. His hands were tied. He couldn't suppress a shudder when he realized his fate. They had taken him onto their ship. They would sell him as a slave, he though. Or worse.
***
The days of travel aboard the ship passed slowly. Lukas was occasionally fed and watered. But apart from that, nothing much happened. Once, a man came to him, tall and blond and without a beard, and knelt down in front of Lukas, obviously to muster him. Then, the man had talked to one of the others, one Lukas hadn't been bale to see. Lukas couldn't understand him. But he thought he heard a few familiar words in there. Children. Home. Happy.
Lukas closed his eyes. He had no idea what to make of that.
Then, the man had left him alone again, let him to think about his own family, or at least the people of the village he would never see again and whose fates he had no knowledge about. Had his father died in the fight? Was he now all alone, after his mother had died on them in childbed? It didn't matter, he told himself. There wasn't much hope he would ever get back there anyway.
***
A few days later, Lukas' feet were untied and he was pulled to his feet by the beardless man. “Come,” the man said as he dragged Lukas with him and off the ship. Lukas stumbled after him, yet unsure if he should fight or follow. They were in a village, much like the one Lukas had lived in until the attack. A small, natural harbor and a handful of houses all around it. People standing together in groups, many of them looking like families welcoming the men who had gone on raid and now returned.
The man looked around, obviously scanning the crowd in vain. Then, he sighed and headed to a house at the edge of the village. Lukas, hands still bound, had decided to follow for now and walked besides his captor, careful with every step lest not to tumble and fall.
The man pushed the door open and called something Lukas couldn't understand until he realized that he had called names, as there came two small children running towards the man, cheering and hugging his legs. The man laughed and hugged the children back. Lukas watched that quietly, waiting for the man to tell him what was expected of him. Lukas knew, if he didn't behave, the man might kill him. For now, Lukas thought it wiser to keep on living.
The children turned their attention now to him, having greeted the man in abundance for now. One of them asked the man something that sounded like him wanting to know who the stranger was. The man replied with help. Or at least, Lukas thought that was what he had been saying.
“What do you want from me?” Lukas asked later, when they were inside the house and alone. The man had not yet untied his hands.
“I need someone to look after my children,” the man said slowly, making sure Lukas would get his meaning by pointing at the children playing close to the fireplace.
“Why me?”
The man scratched the back of his head, hummed and hawed. When he finally decided to speak, he said, “I saw you lying there in the snow and liked you. I didn't want you to die there and, well, I hoped you would be nice.”
Lukas couldn't help but roll his eyes. This sounded ridiculously foolish. “You're an idiot,” Lukas said.
“Maybe,” the man acknowledged. He gestured towards the ropes around Lukas' wrists. “Promise me you won't harm the children?” On Lukas' nod, the man untied the ropes. “I'm Sören. What's your name?”
“Lukas,” Lukas mumbled, massaging his wrists where red marks showed that the rope had been there.
***
Winter passed more quickly in this village. Lukas was glad to finally leave that house again. Not that he had minded staying lately. He liked the children. Children, who had gladly accepted him as addition to their family and not only let him cook for them but also be their playmate. He hadn't even minded that idiot Sören that much, even though that man was occasionally staring at him which made Lukas want to punch him or else. Okay, maybe rather else.
But it was nice to see the sky again, bright and blue, and the sun shining down to get rid of the last patches of snow. The children ran about happily, not paying attention to him or Sören in any way as the two of them walked along the shore and left Sören's children play with the others from the village.
“Are you made I took you?” Sören asked after a while of silence.
Lukas shook his head. It surprised no one more than him, but he wasn't. “Actually, I'm glad,” he said, marveling where those words had come from and why they were true even though he hadn't known that before he had said them.
“How so?” Sören looked as astonished as Lukas felt.
“Home,” Lukas smiled. “I know you have gifted me to your children, or maybe gifted me to yourself, but … it feels like you have gifted me with home in the process. I like it here.” He didn't say the last two words of if. But Sören seemed to have picked them up just as well. He smiled.
“I love you, too,” Sören said. That earned him a punch and a grumble of I didn't say that.
Sören laughed at that. “But you meant it.”
With that, he pressed a kiss on Lukas' cheek.
“You really are a moron,” Lukas sighed with a roll of his eyes, before he took Sören's face in his hands and kissed him.