I absolutely love the fan-theory that Canada is Vinland, which would make him Norway and Iceland's little brother before long France found him. So here I am to join the bandwagon with a little fanfic of my own! This will be a set of three short ficlets. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to leave a review!


"Norvegr," a small voice stumbled a little over the foreign tongue as the tiny child wiggled around in the swath of blankets to face the older nation. They had not been there long enough for him to truly know the language as his own, and now he likely never would. Stubby hands curled around the rough material of the other's tunic. "Are you really leaving?"

"I have to return to my people, skatten min." Long fingers threaded through the boy's fair hair tenderly, then his lips quirked into a wry smile. "And I don't think your people like us very much."

"But I like you," was the quiet reply, accompanied to maximum effect by large watery violets.

Norway chuckled. "Thank you, Vinland. I like you very much as well. No," he wrapped his arms around the smaller nation, setting his chin on the top of that fluffy head. "I love you, skatten min. Don't forget that."

Silence settled, broken only by a soft sniffle as Norway continued to gently smooth down Vinland's hair. Soft fluffy strands that refused to lie completely flat, just like his own. It was a strange mixture of black and blond, the pale color slowly seeping into the inky black the longer that they stayed. And he knew without looking at Vinland's eyes had long turned into an exact match to Iceland's.

As if summoned by the thought, a third pale-haired figure approached the cozy scene, a child a few years older in appearance than the youngest. Vinland perked up, pushing himself up to sit straighter. "Ísland!"

Norway raised a blanket-swathed arm and Iceland dove gratefully into the space offered him.

"You're cold, Ísland!" Vinland giggled, scooting closer to Norway's warmth. Iceland just grinned, pressing icy fingers to the squealing child's cheeks. They scuffled playfully for a few minutes, tangling into the blankets. Norway felt bad about interrupting their fun, but there was business to take care of.

"What did the head say, Ís?"

The silver-haired boy dutifully turned serious. "The people are almost ready to leave, bróðir. We should be able to leave tomorrow."

Vinland paused in his wriggles to escape from the cocoon that had trapped him, head drooping again. "So soon?"

Iceland hugged the younger boy closer. "Sorry, Vinland." The child buried his face in Iceland's tunic, shaking his head in denial.

They sat there with heavy hearts, Norway gently running his hands over their hair in a soothing motion. It didn't take long for drowsiness to catch up with the two young ones, however, and eventually soft snores began to emit from both.

Norway smiled fondly at the two sleeping children in his arms. Tenderly he kissed each on the forehead. As he held his precious brothers close, he evoked an old blessing, wishing that they would grow up strong and brave.

"Svá hjálpi þér hollar véttir, Frigg og Freyja og fleiri goð." (So may mild Powers help you, Frigg and Freyja and many a God.)

They were to part soon, but it would not be forever.


Disclaimer: The Old Norse blessing was taken from the website "Odin's Gift"

Norvegr is Norway in Old Norse (the modern Norwegian is Norge), and Ísland is obviously Iceland (both Old Norse and modern Icelandic).

"Skatten min" is Norwegian for "my treasure" (Or so Google tells me, please do correct me if it's wrong). It's modern Norwegian, but I thought it was cute and I rather not butcher Old Norse by trying to translate it haha.