Apologies for the shortness, reasons given at the bottom.

Eduard hadn’t always lived in this too-small village of the edge of the World and the Wild. Once upon a time, he had been born in a oft-forgotten, war-stricken country to the south, but as soon as his eldest brother had gathered the money, they had fled north, taking everything they owned, and far more importantly, everything they knew, with them to the cold, sea-besieged North. Toris, broken hearted for reasons he refused to share, had gotten sick. Far, far sicker than he or Raivis had even seen him, or anyone in fact, get. No one had been able to do anything, and it was with complete desperation that they finally tracked down the local witch healer, and destroyed their future to save their brother. He still has nightmares about the journey, for the tiny, cosy cottage lay beyond the safe borders of the village. This would not be an issue anywhere else, but here the Wild was constantly encroaching on the World. So they had made the walk through the snow and freezing ice-rain, their brother’s fever-boiling body a dead weight between them, the Wild pressing down on their bodies the entire time. When they’d finally reached the cottage Raivis had actually cried from relief, and Eduard had never quite appreciated being able to take deep breathes before then.

Then the witch had appeared, all sympathetic sweetness veiling a core of no-nonsense steal. He hadn’t been anything like what Eduard had thought, he was not the half wild madman that religion taught, but rather a mild mannered, slightly washed out young man who frowned at them when they pulled his door open, Wild stealing inside and taking away the warmth. He’d spoken to them, gently rebuking, pulling them inside and shutting the door behind them in an entirely too smooth movement, and then – then Eduard had unwrapped his shivering/burning brother’s arm from around his neck and looked up and seen his eyes and suddenly he knew, he just knew why everyone said what they did because the man’s eyes were violet, not the gentle, almost blue colour of Raivis’, but real-honest-to-god violet, and suddenly he knew that Toris would be okay.

Notes: in this AU, Denmark, Sweden and Finland (the countries, not the personifications) are three closely situated islands (ie, completely water-locked). England is a slowly-regaining-power-ful country to the west, and Russia is a medium strength country to the east, Baltics are three different countries in a very Europe like continent, located to the immediate south of the three island nations. Basically, Sweden is the prince of the Vikings (….yeah, technically I believe that that place should belong to Denmark, but whatever [the Viking age was also during Denmark’s ‘golden age’, if I remember correctly] but Swedes whooped English arse ((and French and German etc)) as well. They make good fighting buddies. Actually all the Nordic countries make pretty good fighting buddies, there needs to be like a Tekken-style tournament to decide the strongest that ends with a tie between the Nordics. Haha, America, when it comes to fighting you just haven’t got the experience of the European countries! Don’t worry tho, Australia has even less, for all he’d probs get through the first few rounds get by throwing the drop bear koala at his opponents.)
BIG NOTICE this won’t be updated until at least midway through January at the most. I’m moving and likely won’t have access to a computer long enough to type up these chapters till then. Sorry OP, but I’ll come through.