The Dane had never been one for silence. He had always been one who craved at least the smallest amount of sound, whether it be loud or soft. Silence never sat well with him. It would lead his mind to wondrous realms, and, with enough thought, these worlds of wonder would slowly become those of tragedy. Mathias couldn't stand that.
He'd always try to make noise, of course. He'd try turning on the radio, or maybe even listening to a few select records. Yet, with each one, he'd begin to think again. But he wouldn't travel to a new world- oh no. He'd think about reality. He'd think about when he was a young nation-or, Viking to be precise-and the deeds he had committed. That didn't sit well with him, either.
But these thoughts began to accelerate. It started with when he was a child, when it was just Sve, Norge, and him. Then the days of the Kalmar Union would cross his mind. Finland and Iceland had joined their group by then, the Dane smiling sadly as he thought of the love the Fin and Swede shared, and how it was once the same way between the Swede and himself.
They didn't stop there, though. The thoughts kept coming. Sve didn't leave long after the...'incidents' between the Norsemen, it then being just Norge, Iceland, and himself. Which, was nice. It was like they were their own little family, only needing, and having, each other. That is, until the Dane had to send Norway with Berwald.
But as all the other times, all was okay. He had Iceland. Norway was with Sweden, Finland was with Russia, which had been quite unfortunate. Yet, the Danish man focused on what was going on under his roof; not that of Sverige's or Russia's.
He'd sometimes think of the Schleswig wars, feeling mighty for a moment, only for that feeling to be dulled by the remembrance of his defeat. But he didn't want the other Norsemen to know this. He wanted to remain powerful in their eyes; and that hadn't lasted for long, the other three men soon hearing of such wars.
He'd think of all the days he'd sit alone in his study, writing to his fellow Norsemen, hearing the soft tapping of Iceland's small footsteps on the wooden floor outside of the room. But these footsteps began to grow louder, and the Icelander grew older. Before Denmark knew it, Iceland was a grown man; And he was afraid of what might happen after that.
Iceland being a grown man had meant he wanted to be treated like one. He wanted to be independent, to be able to live on his own. The Dane had nodded in agreement, sighing as he watched the once small Icelandic boy walk down the sidewalk, a bag resting on his back.
And this is where the thoughts would stop. Right here, they'd simple drift out of his mind, as if they were never there. Mathias would simply sit in silence once they stopped, murmuring the same message to himself;"It's all in the past."
Yet, deep within him, these weren't just thoughts. They were reminders.