Disclaimer: No, I do not own the Hetalia characters. If I did, I would probably cuddle them too much.

Author's Note: This is a story I have been thinking about for awhile now. I always wanted to find a story about the time when Estonia and Latvia were under the custody of both Sweden and Poland and Lithuania. Since I could not find one, I have decided to write something of that kind. I am kind of excited about it. This first chapter is mostly in the perspective of Estonia, but I think I will shift character focus from chapter to chapter, but with no real order, just who I think should be the focus for the chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy

It was in the corners of a clear blue morning that Estonia awoke to the brush of Lithuania's hand. Through barely opened eyes, he watched long, lightly floured fingers clutch his hair, twisting strands about them as if they meant to dance, but not a happy dance. Lithuania was not happy. He did not have to lift his eyes to look at his face, Estonia just knew.

"It will only be but a fortnight," Estonia said, trying to sound assuring. His voice was tired though. He had not had much sleep the night before, worrying. Finland often said that worrying never got you anywhere, but it was hard to stop oneself from thinking, considering, imagining all the things that could go wrong. Sweden was a hard man to read and an easy one to offend, and Estonia suspected he did not like him.

"I worry about Latvia," Lithuania said softly. Sitting down on the bed next to Estonia, he folded his hands in his lap, on top of his white apron. He smelt strongly of the kitchen, of bread, beer, and eggs. He looked very thoughtful. It was never good when Lithuania looked thoughtful, when his eyebrows knitted themselves quite close together and spread frown lines down to his thin, pink lips. His skin would start getting paler, then greener, and before you knew it he had thought himself sick.

"Sweden loves Latvia," Estonia blurted out. It was true. Sweden was quite fond of Latvia, but then again everyone was fond of Latvia. He was so young and cute, trusting. No matter what people did to him, he still seemed to be so sweet.

"Yes, but…" Lithuania said.

"Liet!" Poland called from the next bedroom over. Lithuania got up and walked over to the door.

"Yes, Polska?" he asked, calling out into the dark hallway. There were no windows in that hallway, only the bedrooms, which still seemed to scare Latvia.

"Come brush my hair," Poland ordered. Lithuania sighed, gave Estonia a fleeting smile and scurried from the room.

Soon after, Estonia could hear the tight rhythm of the brush. He lay in bed imagining it, as he had seen it many times before. Lithuania with his face half illuminated by the sun, churning the silver brush and his fingers through Poland's bright, wheat colored hair. Poland's green eyes half closed in bliss as he sat on the edge of the bed, his legs dangling down, basking in the morning light. Chatting haphazardly about this and that, Lithuania would try to strike up a conversation, but though Poland soon struck fast and hard into the flow of it, he could never bring himself to anything deep. Lithuania would half sigh and give up, staring out the window as he brushed, looking for inspiration from the trees, while Poland went on about the naming of some new colt of his. Poland loved horses and smelt of them too. Well, that and rose talc, which he put on strongly. Estonia guessed it was to cover the scent of the horses, but it did not really, just blended with it.

"Estonia?" a small voice piped from the doorway. Glancing up, Estonia saw Latvia, draped in a long nightgown, which revealed only his tiny feet and curl-crested head.

"Yes, Latvia?" Estonia muttered. He looked up the ceiling, tracing the water stains with his eyes.

Viewing this as an invitation, Latvia ran over and flung himself onto Estonia's bed.

"I'm scared," the small boy whimpered.

"Yes, I know."

Latvia was always scared, but Estonia could not understand why it was always his task to comfort him. Why couldn't Latvia go to Poland or Lithuania? After all, they were older. Estonia really did not know what to tell him. He was scared too, but if he said that Latvia would probably only burst out into a flood of tears.

"What if Mr. Sweden gets angry at us?"

"Well, then we'll just get Finland to calm him down."

"How does he do that?"

"I…I don't know. Ask him."

"I wish I knew."

"It would probably not work the same with you."

"Why not?"

"Because, you know, you're not his 'wife'"

Latvia giggled a little. Estonia glared at him, but as he failed to look scary, Latvia only laughed more.

"It's not funny," Estonia said. He turned his back on Latvia, so that he was now lying facing the wall. It was quiet for a while.

"I wish I had a wife," Latvia said wistfully.

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do."

"You're too young for that sort of thing."

"No, I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"Children," Lithuania called from the other room, "stop fighting."

Estonia glared at the wall. It was irritating when Lithuania tried to act like their parent, even though technically he was their guardian. Poland and Lithuania had partial custody of them. Sweden was at the other end.

"Yes, mother," Estonia shot back. He noted though the sting in the words was not as sharp as usual. He wanted to stay with Lithuania, or at least he did not want to go to Sweden, but Finland would be there. Finland might need him. Who knew what Sweden might have done.

"Estonia," Poland said. It sounded as if he were directly on the other side of the wall Estonia was facing, "you are like not allowed to talk to my Liet like that."

Estonia groaned and rolled away from the wall, bumping into Latvia.

"Sorry," he mumbled, not knowing if it was supposed to be addressed to Latvia, Poland, or even Lithuania.

"You better be," Poland said, still through the wall, "he, like, deserves your respect."

"I am sorry," Estonia said again. Latvia smiled in his face.

"You're forgiven," Latvia whispered.

Estonia rolled his eyes and climbed out of bed.

"You two should be getting ready," Lithuania said through the wall.

"I am," Estonia replied. He scooped Latvia up and placed him on the floor. Then he made his bed and got dressed, while Latvia just stood there and watched him. He was so annoying.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?" Estonia asked. He looked himself over in a polished metal plate, which he used as a mirror, combed his dark blond hair into place, adjusted his glasses.

Latvia nodded.

"It's big," he said, widening his already wide blue eyes.

"What?"

"Your thing." Latvia made a vague gesture going down from his waist.

Estonia blushed.

"Stop being silly," he said. Then glancing towards the door, he hissed, "They'll hear you."

"Why is it so much bigger than mine?"

Latvia looked like he might cry.

"I am older," Estonia whispered, "I am sure yours will grow. Now, please, let's not talk about it, not now. We have to get ready to go."

Latvia really did start crying now, tears rolling down his cheeks.

"Latvia, whatever is wrong?" Estonia asked with a shake of his head.

"I don't want to leave," Latvia sobbed.

"Oh, it will be all right. Sweden is not really that bad, and you know how wonderful Fin…"

"It's not that. It's…what if Lithuania is not here when we get back? What if he dies in a war or gets really sick? Or Poland, what if he…"

"No!" Estonia snapped, "that's not going to happen. Everyone's going to be fine, and we are getting through this, all right?"

"I hate being jostled around like this," Latvia moped, "back and forth, back and forth."

"Yes."

"I don't think any of them like me."

"That's not true. They all like you. They think you're cute. Now go get dressed."

Latvia gave him a long look, before trotting off like some forlorn puppy.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Estonia made his way to the kitchen. He liked the kitchen. The color of the wooden walls was warm and inviting, covered here and there with cloth hangings. Wooden table, wooden benches, white and red linen curtains shrouding the wood framed windows, wooden bowels, and wooden spoons laid out on the wooden table. No richness entered the room; all elegant crockery was surrendered to the dining hall.

This is the way Lithuania wanted it. He said that if he were to be surrounded by elegance every hour of the day, it would make him feel ugly and out of place. He spent a great deal of his time in the kitchen, preparing meals. The image of Lithuania that was embedded in Estonia's mind wore an apron, wore many aprons, in various shades. Though Lithuania's collection of aprons, hung in the darkest corner of the kitchen behind capes and coats, almost as if he were ashamed of them.

That morning the kitchen was filled with the aroma of fresh baked poppy seed cake, not the usual breakfast fair, but everyone tried to treat you when they knew you were going away. It was a shame too, because that was when you were least likely to enjoy it. Nevertheless, Estonia cut himself a rather large piece, thinking of the walk to Sweden's house. Lithuania came in and quietly poured him a glass of milk, fresh milk, the cream still resting on the top.

"You got everything packed?" Lithuania asked.

"Yes," Estonia said, "did that last night."

Lithuania nodded. "Just do what Sweden tells you to and you should do fine."

"Of course." It had become the pattern of his life to listen to people. Estonia did not really like it, but there was not much to be done. He just was not strong enough to stand on his own, not yet anyway.

"Be careful," Lithuania said. He bent and kissed Estonia's cheek. Straightening back up, he became as serious as ever, smoothed out the wrinkles in his shirt. His face pretended to have no feelings.

"I will," Estonia said.

The next chapter will probably be at Sweden's house. Please review, it would help so much in bringing the story along, and it's nice to know people are interested. Anyway, hope you enjoyed. Thank you for your time. :)