A/N: Hello! This is my first Hetalia fic.
There's just some things I want to say before we begin.
Please excuse ooc, if there is any. I write the characters as I interpret them, and I always try my best to get the characterization right. I guess maybe Norway is a little ooc? I meant to write him as more emotional in this fic anyway.
I'm not an avid fan of using another language in a story, but I think it suits this fic well, so I have quite a few phrases in the story that's in another language.
Also, if some characters appear to be antagonistic, they aren't meant to be. I like everyone in Hetalia, and if they are acting in such a way, they have their reasons. For example: England (1812 just happened, he's in his empire persona, etc.)
I tried my best at Sweden's accent.
Well then, enjoy.
Disclaimer: Hetalia isn't mine.
(Further notes and translations are at the end)
Jan. 1814 - Kiel, Holstein, Germany
[Norway]
There is a reason for just about everything, including why Denmark and Norway are in Germany at the moment, walking down a dim hall to attend a meeting regarding a particular treaty.
Perhaps it all began with Sweden's departure from the Kalmar Union in the 16th century, and all the wars that followed. Gains and losses scattered throughout the decades and centuries. But that was long ago, and wouldn't account for much. Or maybe it began with these recent years, when they were yet again pulled into the unforgiving spiral called war despite their attempts to remain neutral.
It is becoming clear that France's downfall is near. Being sided with the nation certainly doesn't suggest very nice things ahead of them.
There are many more things that can be blamed for their current predicament though, but joining on France's side would be the biggest and most legitimate reason that they are here for this treaty. Simply put, neutrality could not be maintained in this war, and so they had to choose.
It just so happens that they chose the losing side.
"What're you thinking about, Norge?" Denmark is sporting a wide grin and leaning a little too close for Norway's liking, as usual, and Norway feels a spark of annoyance (as usual) along with the affectionate exasperation he always feels towards Denmark now. It's a little inexplicable, really.
Perhaps Norway is growing soft with the passing of time, because it is becoming downright difficult to be truly annoyed with Denmark these days. Irritation and exasperation, yes, but rarely ever does he feel extreme anger or annoyance.
"The treaty and what it might entail. There might be more land cessions." Norway is relatively willing to share his thoughts today, and besides, he does desire to hear the opinion of someone other than himself or the magical folk. Though he values the fairies' opinions, this is still quite a matter concerning the world and the Nations.
"It might not be that bad," Denmark says lightly, though there is significantly less cheer in his voice, suggesting that he is worried in his own way. So maybe Denmark isn't so painstakingly oblivious after all.
Norway had been wondering why Denmark has a smile on his face even when they will obviously have to provide some sort of reparation after this meeting.
Norway would like to believe that it might not be that terrible, but it wouldn't be possible that nothing would be demanded. He shakes his head dismissively, looking down at the floor for a moment.
"To the victor goes the spoils. There has to be something. They always want something." He still remembers the discomfort and pain of his land being dealt back and forth during the several wars which they lost. Jemtland, Herjedalen, Trøndelag, Båhuslen…just to name some of them.
"If it is Iceland..." Just the thought of his lillebror being taken away leaves a bitter taste in Norway's mouth, and his mind goes back a few days ago, to the memory of Iceland finally falling asleep after multiple fairytales, allowing Denmark and Norway to depart for the meeting.
"It won't be Iceland, Norge. We may have been fighting losing battles for centuries, but I'll never let anything happen to him. I won't let anything happen to you either. Vi er familie. We're family. You just stop worrying, okay?" Norway stares back at Denmark's determined eyes and confident smile, feeling surprised that the overly cheerful and usually oblivious idiot is capable of such...moving words.
He doesn't even resist the strong arms pulling him into a reassuring embrace. Norway would let Denmark off the hook for hugging him without permission this time...since he's secretly glad that he decided to consult the Dane. Not that Norway would ever admit it to Denmark, but...
Despite what many people seem to think, Norway is not devoid of emotion or incapable of showing affection. He just...rarely shows his feelings. Yes.
But Norway has to admit that he feels rather touched by Denmark's words. A family has been, and always will be one of the things he values the most. Norway had thought of all five of them as one during the Union, but it obviously wasn't meant to last. Now, it's just him, Denmark, and Iceland.
"...Yes. I'll hold you to that...Denmark." Norway lets himself relax, leaning into Denmark's chest and hugging him back a little. A little. Just a little.
Maybe he really does need to stop worrying and look more on the optimistic side of things.
They stay in that state for a while, but however relaxing it may be, they do have to get to business.
"Mmph—Get off! There's a meeting, remember?" Norway makes an attempt to step back, but Denmark, being stronger, easily pulls Norway back to his chest.
"Nope! I won't let go until you say that you feel better." There's that silly grin again.
"Can you stop acting so childish? It's annoying..." But Denmark doesn't let go. He keeps on smiling.
Wait. Is Denmark...serious? Taking a closer look at the idiot's face, Norway realizes that...yes, Denmark is serious, and they would likely get nowhere if Norway does not relent.
Tch. Leave it to Denmark to act like this.
"Fine. I feel better. Is that alright?" Norway sighs. Denmark is going to be the death of him.
"Yeah! That was all you had to say, Norge. Don't you feel better now?" Cue another wide grin.
Norway just sighs again, shaking his head. Denmark can be so insufferable sometimes, but in the end, there's no denying the fact that Norway's mood has improved.
Denmark's happiness is that contagious.
The silence soon resumes as they navigate their way through the halls, searching for the meeting room that is apparently "easy to find". For once, Denmark doesn't try to mention something else, seemingly taking the hint that Norway is contemplating, which Norway does appreciate. He's perfectly capable of dealing with Denmark's irritable qualities on a daily basis, but not now. Not when it is something important. Just walking in silence with nothing in particular to distract him is comforting by itself, and he allows himself to relax slightly. To walk less like a straight board, tense and nervous.
The feeling of doubt continues to grow within him though, despite Norway's best attempts to dissuade himself from his theories of all the possibilities. The 1810s hasn't been a pleasant time period for him and his people, with all the wars and famines.
He should probably think less about all of the what-ifs and the unpleasant outcomes, but Norway just simply cannot stop worrying. Every moment and every second, the result of the meeting is becoming closer to being unraveled. Soon enough, the details of treaty will be explained fully after they step through the door. His mind turns quickly, trying to imagine what would be demanded and how he would respond.
After a while, the swish of Norway's clothing and the sound of footsteps on the floor brings himself back into reality and away from his inner pondering. Norway tries his best to prevent himself from drawing into his inner world again.
There's no telling what would happen exactly. Norway finds himself hesitating slightly as he stands in front of the foreboding door, wondering how their destiny will be determined in there. It would be a loss for one nation and a gain for another.
"You alright, Norge?" Denmark looks more concerned now, and Norway nods absentmindedly, wondering if his thoughts were so transparent, that even Denmark could detect them.
"Nothing." He's even confusing himself a little with how he's dwelling on something that he wouldn't have any control over.
Just...stop thinking about it. There's the meeting...
The situation is just as tense, perhaps even more so than Norway thought. England gives them all curt nods and clipped greetings, and Norway is uncomfortably reminded of the difference between this distant, gruff man and that much more jubilant child he encountered during the Viking Age.
They seem to have quite a lot in common, but neither made any effort to become well-acquainted.
It truly is a pity that they are meeting again under these circumstances. Norway would've liked to discuss magical spells, the behavior of fairies, or ancient folklore with England. Such arcanic subjects intrigue Norway, and perhaps his fellow nation would share a similar interest too.
But of course, they are nations, and nations have to put their own interests before everything else. Not to mention that they had been enemies for the past years in this war that involves most of Europe.
Nations do not age as humans do, yet time changes everyone. It seems like only yesterday when Norway first met Denmark (they were small children, and that idiot fell into a river), or when he encountered little Iceland wandering around in the forests of a newly discovered land.
Denmark is busying himself with glaring at Sweden, who merely stares back frostily from his seat. The tension between them is visible, but Norway leaves it be, confident that there wouldn't be an argument or a brawl. Both are still bitter about the Kalmar Union and all the subsequent wars.
Norway takes a seat beside Denmark and merely observes. Finland is expectedly absent. Sweden lost him to Russia a few years ago. The tall man looks much more downcast than the last time Norway saw him.
Hardly the happy times around here, isn't it?
"We are gathered here to discuss the Treaty of Kiel as it applies to us nations." England coughs loudly to gather everyone's attention, and he effectively silences all background conversation, leaving all eyes on him.
"I reckon you all are aware of the fact that we are ending all hostilities between the United Kingdom, Sweden, and Denmark-Norway."
A few nods.
"However, there are terms that come with this agreement, which we will be disclosing today. The Danish King has agreed to relinquish all claims of the Kingdom of Norway in favor of the King of Sweden in exchange for Swedish Pomerania. That will mean the ceding of-"
Norway feels himself freeze at the words (relinquish all claims of the Kingdom of Norway—What is he saying?), and he hears the noise of something, a chair, probably, crashing to the ground.
It takes a little longer for him to realize that he had stood up, causing his chair to fall backwards with the force. England pauses, surprise evident in his eyes.
"What did you say?" Norway is somewhat aware that he won't be able to maintain the calm facade any longer. He already had an outburst with him standing up abruptly, and now all eyes are trained on him. Norway should be embarrassed, and he most definitely would be later, but he really can't care less about what the others think at the moment.
It still feels a little unreal.
"I said, the Kingdom of Norway is hereby ceded to the Kingdom of Sweden, and you, as the personification of Norway, will be taking up residence with Sweden's personification in respect of this decision-"
"Well, I refuse." Norway just keeps surprising himself, first with that outburst, and now with the vehemence in his words, but he decides to continue on. He would never leave Denmark...leave Iceland...
No, Norway will not. He refuses to be dealt around like an object. Like property.
England's green eyes flash dangerously as he frowns. He looks less than happy to be interrupted twice, but still continues, barely keeping the irritation out of his voice.
"That is the agreement, Norway."
"There's no way! I'm not handing Norge over to him!" Denmark is quick to jump to Norway's defense, and he takes Norway's hand as both a gesture of support and sign that they are agreed on the matter.
"Y' lost. Y' h've no choice." And suddenly Sweden speaks out of nowhere, his voice as deep and serious as usual. He stares at each person for a while, causing more than a few to flinch. Norway pretends to ignore Sweden, but the words still sting, despite the fact that they haven't seen each other for a while.
He still considers the two of them brothers. They've known each other since childhood, grew up together, and had been through a union together. Sweden wanting independence from Denmark...that Norway can understand. Denmark can be controlling and childish sometimes.
But this?
"Why, you-" Denmark's anger blatantly shows on his face, and he lunges at Sweden, only to be restrained by a couple of men who Norway does not recognize. Norway stares in alarm, but decides that Denmark would be able to handle it. He's seen the Dane in battle before, and while it may take some time, a group of men shouldn't be a problem.
"If you still wish to resist..." England sighs, walking a little towards Norway, who steps back warily, suddenly wondering he too would be restrained.
Looking at the dusty floor, Norway bites his lip hard to keep himself calm. It isn't the time to lose control and panic. There should be a way...No, there must be a way...
"I said already that I wish to remain in union with the Kingdom of Denmark." Norway still speaks in a cold and succinct manner that is typical of him. But he's almost at his wits' end now. He doesn't know what to say or do. It is nearly impossible to actually stay, and he is aware of that...
"Denmark left you defenseless many times, did he not? I simply cannot understand why you would want to stay with a declining nation who will only tie you down." England speaks carefully with his voice blank as his expression turns into that of perplexity. Probably faking it, Norway thinks with distaste as he throws England a glare.
"Understand? I don't expect you to understand. This is my personal choice, and this has nothing to do with my people. I want to stay with Denmark. I care for him despite his shortcomings...None of you will ever understand. Denmark may not be perfect, but at least he's better than all of you. I'd like to see you measure up to him before you even start criticizing." Norway says it all in an unreserved yet controlled way, feeling a little out of breath and also quite idiotic for revealing his feelings and thoughts so easily.
Who knew that he would be so quick to defend Denmark? Living with the man for centuries probably rubbed off on him.
Denmark stands nearby, mouth open as he gapes, and Norway has to resist the urge to go over and personally correct Denmark's terrible posture and expression. Is it just that surprising?
England lifts an eyebrow. Sweden stares without much of an expression, and all eyes seem to be on Norway now, as if everyone is waiting intently for his next words.
A sudden shout causes Norway to lift his head sharply to glance in the direction. Denmark had shaken off the people holding him back, and Norway stares in surprise as the taller man attempts to rush towards him…
"Norge!"
...Only to be held back again.
Norway makes an attempt to go to Denmark, but that only proves to be unwise. Foreign arms pull him back, holding him in place tightly and preventing him from even moving slightly. Norway winces at the tight grip, hissing a little when they roughly pulls his arms, inciting a flash of pain.
"Don't you dare touch him!" Denmark shouts from where he is being held back, trying to move forward, only to be pushed back again by what must be a group of people. Were they here just for this purpose? Possibly.
"We are not harming you. I just ask that you please do not make assumptions or act on impulse," England says smoothly as he approaches Norway, who gives the island nation an impassive and dead stare.
"It doesn't appear so. Do you not understand these two words? I. Refuse." Norway pronounces every word emphatically, looking England straight in the eye. They just contemplate each other for a while, green staring back at blue, and Norway doesn't feel particularly inclined to instigate an argument. He does not feel that the situation is worth getting angry...
"Oh, then perhaps you desire a companion? Perhaps Iceland? Still a child, but-"
...Yet.
"Not Iceland. You wouldn't." Norway just stares. The situation currently is almost the epitome of his worst dreams and fears. Giving over Iceland? How could England even suggest that? The man raised a child, if Norway remembers correctly. Yes, America. The one who rebelled. England should be able to understand how losing a child would feel.
"I personally wouldn't see the use of such a small, distant land. No wonder why the child is so thin and fragile-looking. Wouldn't you want to trade him in, if you could?" England sniffs a little, not even listening to Denmark's loud protests. It could've been Norway's imagination, but Sweden's eyes narrow slightly at England's careless remarks.
However, this certainly is the last straw for him.
"How dare you insinuate that I do not care about Iceland? And who are you to comment upon our relationship?" This time, Norway does not bother to mask the unadulterated fury in his voice, and maybe it is at that moment when he makes a decision.
Perhaps it is the sight of Denmark's desperate expression. Or maybe it is the thought of Iceland still waiting back home. The centuries Norway has spent with Denmark weren't all exactly happy times, and he can't say that he hasn't ever thought of independence, but…
It cannot end here. Not like this. Norway's feelings towards Denmark and Iceland surpass the beliefs of his people, and he just isn't willing to let everything go like this.
Norway barely notices how taken aback England seems to be, ignores the man's attempt to speak, and chooses.
Even if he fails, he won't go down without a fight.
So, naturally, the man with an iron grip on Norway is in for a nasty surprise when Norway kicks him. Hard.
"Goodness-!"
Norway forcefully pushes all of the shouts and noises away to the back of his mind, ignoring the pain whenever his hair is pulled or when he is jostled by someone.
He will never let himself be taken away so easily. It may end up being a completely futile effort, but Norway hardly cares. Denmark is right there, just an arm's distance away...and Iceland is waiting at home, for his storebror to return home.
He can't give up here.
.
.
.
.
[Denmark]
Denmark hasn't seen Norway so fierce ever since they were vikings, and it effectively stuns him for a little while. But Denmark soon regains his senses, and he manages to cast the men restraining him aside, rushing in to help Norway.
Shouts and general chaos fills the room as everyone basically gets involved in a fight one way or the other. England hollers for order, Sweden is nowhere to be seen, and Norway is at the center of it all, where people are pushing and falling. Denmark forces his way through and begins to pry people off of Norway, all while attempting to avoid the blows being exchanged.
"Denmark?"
Denmark frowns at the sight of a very battered-looking Norway. His light hair, normally immaculate, is misshapen and messy from what must have been several struggles, and the hair clip in the shape of the Nordic Cross is dangling dangerously, close to falling from his hair. Norway's clothing is also slightly torn, but he doesn't seem to be terribly hurt.
"We might be able to get away," Denmark says hastily, extending his arm to pull Norway closer to him. Most of the people are still in disarray, and far from noticing their absence. This would be a perfect chance.
"Yes, we-" But Norway never finishes.
"Y'r n't goin' anywhere."
Ah. Of course. It's Sweden who has his hand on Norway's shoulder. Always Sweden. Sverige, who seems to have his life goal set against Denmark's, intent on taking away everything that he even remotely cares about.
The next thing Denmark sees is Norway's blue eyes giving him a look filled with resignation, emotions he usually never shows appearing briefly before vanishing.
"It seems that this is it," Norway mutters, hair falling over his eyes as he glances downwards, and Denmark clenches his fists at how useless he feels, because he knows.
"Say y'r g'dbyes."
Normally, Denmark would be furious, but the hopeless reality does catch on with him somewhat, though he still refuses to accept it.
He's...no longer the King of the Nordics. Sweden is no longer under his control, and nothing Denmark says or does would change anything in the treaty, since he is on the losing side.
He continues to lose everything. Everyone is just...leaving.
"...Keep this." Barely a second passes, and Norway is already placing something into Denmark's hand.
"Nor..." Denmark opens his mouth, about to say something, but Norway shakes his head with resignation.
"There isn't any time, Den. Just listen."
Denmark nods, and goes slightly rigid from surprise when he feels thin arms wrap around him and a slender body pressing against his.
Norway is hugging him. Norway, of all people, is hugging him.
"You better take good care of Iceland while I'm gone, or I'll end you." Norway's voice comes out muffled and quiet, but he sounds calm and clear despite the almost-threatening nature of his words. Denmark doesn't really mind, since he knows that Norway doesn't truly mean it. He's known him long enough to know.
Denmark nods, despite his troubled mind, holding Norway's delicate frame tenderly but firmly, as one would hold a fragile piece of jewelry. He's afraid that if he lets go, Norway will disappear out of his sight like an ethereal being.
"In all seriousness though, do take care of yourself. I will need somewhere to go when I get back after all, and I wouldn't want to return to see you six feet under." A ghost of a smirk appears on Norway's pale face (it looks so sad...), but he soon reverts to the constant impassive look he has about him.
Then Norway pauses, hesitating, but before he can say any more, Sweden speaks, not even seeming to care that Norway hadn't finished.
"We h've to leave."
And as if prompted, some strangers (guards?) seize Norway again, pulling him back even as he struggles to break free.
Denmark bristles in anger, and he would've lunged forward if not for others suddenly swarming him and keeping him back.
He won't be able to reach Norway in time.
But their eyes meet fleetingly from across the room, and Denmark hears the last words of Norway's goodbye, practically shouted out in his haste.
"Jeg vil alltid være din, Danmark. Jeg elsker deg..."
Norway seems to be saying something else, but he never finishes, for the guards are already pulling him away from the meeting room, leaving only England, Denmark, and a few others in an eerie silence.
Denmark feels dazed, and he doesn't really focus on the buzzing conversations around him.
Norway never throws such words around easily. For all the centuries they've been together, he's only said it once or twice. Even the times when he said "jeg er glad i det" were limited and rare, only happening when Norway was in a really really good mood.
Denmark, aware of the wetness of his own eyes, barely manages to say something back, though Norway is already gone.
"Jeg elsker også dig."
And yet, something more shatters within him when he opens his hand to see that the item placed into his hand is Norway's cross-shaped hair clip. The one that he holds so dearly and is never seen without.
(A sunny day by a river, hundreds of years ago)
Denmark and Norway had been playing by the river, which was their meeting place, but they'd stopped to catch their breath, too tired and wet from all the splashing.
"Hey! Norge! What is this? Will you give that to me?" Denmark, being his excitable and curious self, is naturally interested in the hair accessory that Norway never parts with, and he reaches out to touch it.
Norge is too mysterious and not really nice sometimes, but Denmark still thinks that his best (and only) friend is interesting.
"In your dreams, Danmark. Not everything in the world is yours." Norway pushes Denmark's hand away, rolling his eyes in annoyance and smiling. Or maybe more like a smirk.
Denmark would give anything to be told that this is just a dream.
"Danmörk? Where's Noregur?"
And the inevitable has arrived.
Denmark sighs inwardly, and he wonders why he's always acting like an old man these days, what with all the groaning and thinking. He may be a nation, but he's still young! Not more than eighteen or nineteen in both body and mind.
But...All that can be saved for later. The current issue is Iceland, and how to break the news to him.
With Puffin in hand, Iceland walks up to Denmark slowly, a curious expression still on his face. Denmark only becomes more hesitant to say anything when he notices that Iceland, at full height, barely reached his waist.
He's still so young…
But Denmark isn't one to hide or cover things. What has to be said has to be said, and keeping things from Iceland would simply be wrong.
"Did anything happen at the meeting? Was Svíþjóð mean? I'll grow up fast so that I can beat up him! Then we'll never lose again." The small child clenches his fists in determination as he speaks quickly, jumbling up his words a little.
Watching such a self-assured Iceland makes Denmark want to laugh, but he only manages a humorless chuckle, which alerts the boy quickly that something isn't right. He begins to frown.
"I'm serious! But...where's Noregur?" Iceland turns his head everywhere, walking up to Denmark with a growing scowl.
...It would be best to tell him. He will have to know eventually.
"Norge...He couldn't come home with me." Ah...How to dumb it all down? Denmark has to voice it in a subtle way, which isn't his forte at all.
"Why? He told me that everything would be alright!" Iceland's face shows growing alarm, and he sets Puffin down on the ground, apparently too anxious to keep holding his pet. The boy only stands there, tense and nervous as he keeps staring at Denmark, who decides to keep going.
"We lost the war, right?"
A nod.
"Well, because we lost, Norge has to go live with Sweden for a while, okay? He'll be back...soon." Hopefully. Denmark finds himself saying self-comforting words geared towards both Iceland himself. He is almost certain that Norway wouldn't come back for a long time.
Denmark merely clutches Norway's hair clip harder.
"Wha-" Iceland's mouth opens a little, and then closes as he just stands, staring at Denmark in shock. Puffin flies onto his head, but Iceland does not take any notice.
"Noregur is gone?" His voice suddenly sounds hollow and dejected. Denmark frowns in concern, but nods.
"Yes."
"Couldn't you have saved him? You're strong, aren't you?" Iceland's voice turns an accusing tone, but Denmark does not say anything. Iceland has the right to be upset, and besides, Denmark could've done something. He should've done something.
"Answer me, Danmörk!" Iceland walks closer, only to be scooped up by Denmark, who just holds him close, being unsure of how to calm the boy down.
"It's…" going to be alright. But it isn't, so Denmark does not finish his sentence, only trailing off awkwardly.
"Noregur...You should've saved him! You were a Viking, weren't you?" Iceland's face crumples, and he grasps Denmark's clothing tightly in his fists, disbelief still on his face.
"Iceland...I…I'm not that powerful anymore..." I'm sorry, Denmark wants to say. But a million sorry's will never be enough.
"I want Noregur...I want my stóri bróðir! I…" Iceland trails off, and there are beginnings of tears in his eyes as he tries to hold back the sobs. Small fists pound on Denmark's chest, but he does not let go of Iceland.
Iceland only gives Denmark another disbelieving look before promptly bursting into tears.
That simply breaks Denmark's heart another time as he continues to hold Iceland, patting the boy's back in a way that he hopes is comforting.
"Norge left me this. Would you like it?" Denmark slowly holds out the hair clip.
Iceland does not notice at first, but he lifts his head, and the tears slowly trickle to a stop as he stares at the cross-shaped accessory. A small hand reaches out, but pulls back, as if afraid.
"You can take it," Denmark says kindly, glad that Iceland had stopped crying. Hopefully, this would cheer him up…
"Bróðir's…" Iceland gives Denmark another glance and reaches for it, holding it carefully in his hands, almost hugging it in a way.
" 'M sorry for hitting you," Iceland mutters, looking somewhat better than his earlier state. Denmark nods and grins widely to show that it is fine, even though smiling is last thing he feels like doing currently, and ruffles up the young nation's hair.
"Hey, stop it!" Iceland wriggles around, trying to push Denmark away.
Denmark just laughs, trying his best to appear happy for Iceland. Though he may not feel exactly elated at the moment (the total opposite of that, really), it is Denmark's duty to protect the young nation. He can't afford to act depressed and sad.
Denmark has to at least fulfill that promise, even if he couldn't keep the other one.
.
.
[Norway]
The guards finally release him, and Norway gives Sweden a cold glare. He later walks to the deck, gazing at the turbulent and dark waves that bring back vivid memories.
If there's one thing he's learned from years of sailing, it's that the sea is always unpredictable. And it also reflects Norway's current mood at the moment. He feels numb and blank, unsure of what he should say or do.
Has Denmark returned safely? And Iceland…
Norway didn't have a chance to say goodbye to Iceland. Pursing his lips at the thought, Norway shakes his head.
He can't do anything about it. It's too late.
He has to say that he still feels surprised from what happened earlier though. Being normally inept with expressing his emotions through words, Norway certainly delivered a surprisingly proper farewell to Denmark, despite the...embarrassing nature of his words.
Norway has never said that to anyone before.
Pressing a hand to his heart, Norway feels the steady beat and wonders how long this new union will last. His years with Denmark are at an end now.
But...as long as the Kingdom of Norway exists, he will live on. It will be alright. Norway's been through a lot. The Black Death hadn't destroyed him, and he would make it through this new turn. Then he might be able to see Iceland and Denmark again.
Norway's known Denmark for as long as he can remember, and he still recalls their first meeting clearly and perfectly.
It began with a river, actually. Norway was just resting at the time, dangling his feet in the cool water when he met Denmark. The boy-stranger just emerged out of the woods, staring at him...and proceeded to fall into the river for some odd reason, almost scaring Norway to death.
Norway had made an attempt to rescue Denmark, and they both ended up wet and exhausted from the ordeal, but Denmark proceeded to laugh and introduce himself, as if nothing dangerous just happened. Something only Denmark manages to do every single time.
Norway would become much more used to Denmark's strange ways through the years.
They encountered Sweden shortly after, and the three of them spent some time together as vikings before Finland came into the picture. Iceland joined halfway through when Norway found him accidentally.
All of them together formed what Norway thought to be a tight-knit family.
They obviously weren't. The invisible cracks in the glass grew and worsened over time, ending the Union in nothing but blood and tears.
Bonds are fragile.
Denmark's mood had been especially bad then, and Norway had to be careful when mentioning Sweden or Finland around him if he did not want to start another shouting match.
Come to think of it...it has only been a few hours since the meeting, and his mind is already preoccupied with Denmark. Really, Norway would think himself unable spend a moment without thinking of the idiot.
Well...perhaps Denmark does takes up a larger part of Norway's heart than expected.
It had been the time of the beginning of their personal union when their relationship...rapidly blossomed. If Norway was more expressive and emotional, the simple thought he just had would've certainly caused him to feel slightly embarrassed.
But he is not very expressive and emotional. And it is not exactly the appropriate time for reminiscing, but Norway can't really stop himself from thinking of better times as an effort to escape from reality. This way, he wouldn't need to think about the present. Or how Denmark is feeling. How Iceland would react.
Reaching a hand out slightly, Norway stares once more at the water, suddenly wishing to be able to touch it. To him, water represents something like freedom. Cold, wet...it always gives him an exhilarating feeling, the complete opposite of his status currently.
Union after union, it only suffocates Norway further. Not even his time with Denmark was all sunshine and rainbows...There were the inevitable arguments. Fights that sometimes escalated and became physical. Glares and bitter words exchanged.
In the end though, they would always gravitate towards each other again. Somehow.
Hopefully that will be the case this time with the dissolution of this union, which may be their biggest trial yet.
Feb. 1814 - Lappland, Sweden
It's been irritating Norway for long enough.
"I am merely a replacement, am I not?"
Norway's becoming bolder, far different from the his former behavior. Sweden never really intimidated Norway, but a significant amount of time has passed ever since they last spoke, and he had been cautious at first, always speaking sparingly and carefully. People change over time, and Sweden might be no exception.
There is no answer from the man in front of him.
"You lost him to Russia, so it's me as compensation, isn't it?" Norway feels like a trophy. Just something to take care of and show off. Sweden hasn't spoke to him or touched him once since their arrival at one of the man's houses in the northernmost part of Sweden. Why Lappland, Norway doesn't know. It is just snow and cold everywhere, the frigid weather making it too difficult to even feel cheerful.
But Norway feels warm. There's a frequent tingle he feels in his body, and he knows that his people are rebelling, unhappy and angry about being forced into this new union.
It merely fuels his already strong desire to be free.
"Are you just that obsessed with him? I hear you muttering his name all the time...Tino, Tino, Tino. That's honestly pathetic."
Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. He shouldn't be saying this.
Sweden stiffens, but still doesn't speak.
Though Norway sees that Sweden is already significantly affected by his words, he just feels too angry to stop talking. Norway is going overboard, he knows, but who is Sweden to act depressed? He just took Norway away from Denmark, and Norway is surviving perfectly well.
"And don't you ever believe in the falsity that I will submit to you. As long as I, the Kingdom of Norway, am still alive, I will never give in. I am not some sort of replacement for Finland, and you will not control me. If you want Finland so much, then get him back, coward," Norway hisses poisonously.
That finally gets a reaction out of Sweden, who clenches his fist slightly and gives Norway a stare that admittedly does intimidate him.
"Stop."
They continue to stare at each other, Sweden as stern as ever and Norway with defiance, but the deadlock eventually ends with Norway walking away.
He's said enough.
Norway wakes to the quiet tick of the clock and the drab, dull wall. He slowly sits up, feeling rather conflicted and tired.
The room given to him is actually quite spacious. It is neat and a decent size, with a bed, desk, and chair. Nothing really special, except for a window with a substantial view.
But nothing about it will change the fact that Norway is rarely even allowed out now. At most, he can only roam the house with people constantly guarding him, or sit in his room like a purposeless person.
He might have made everything worse for himself by attempting to ambush Sweden by the door with a chair yesterday.
Norway doesn't care. It was worth it. He can't do nothing.
Placing a hand on the cool window glass, Norway stares blankly at the vast expanse of white covering the landscape beyond. Some sunlight shines through, glistening on the snow, and tall green trees dusted with white completes the winter scene.
It may be a beautiful view, but Norway has no eyes for it. He much prefers what he considers to be his true home, back with Denmark and Iceland.
The next day, Norway bashes the window in, using his fists and whatever hard object he can find. He runs, ignoring the sting of the cuts on his hands and the wrath of the winter, which blows snow and wind everywhere.
He doesn't get very far, and it was a foolish plan anyway.
It is May now, and his people have declared independence. Norway is occasionally allowed outdoors, but he is still guarded closely. Probably because of the fear that he would escape again.
Life goes on in that way. Norway persuades himself to have faith in his new King, talks to Troll and the fairies, and hopes that Denmark and Iceland are safe. Sweden is occasionally present, being there but not really there, only showing up sometimes. Not that it particularly bothers Norway.
Only Finland will probably be able to change the way Sweden is acting. Norway and Sweden had reached a sort of a compromise a while ago. They barely speak to each other, and they keep to their own ways.
There is, after all, nothing for them to say, unless they decided arbitrarily to mourn their strangely similar situations, what with them being separated from Denmark and Finland.
When Norway finally breaks free of Sweden...when he becomes an independent state, he'll be able to leave. There won't be anyone to stop him then.
And he has faith in his people. As long as they stand strong, he will also, and surely, he'll be able to return to his family someday, free of any union tying him down.
It is Sweden's slightly apologetic gaze that snaps Norway out of his shock.
"...'M s'rry. For how I treated y' earlier and..." He does not mention the Convention of Moss, or how Norway's short-lived independence is over.
Over. Finished. Done.
He really is in a union with Sweden now.
"No need to be. I wasn't very agreeable either," Norway says mildly, turning away quickly to prevent Sweden from seeing any emotions that might show through his rapidly deteriorating mask of impassiveness.
It is already November—has it really been that long?—, and snow is already falling, preparing to cover the land once more in winter. Norway just keeps walking, and there is no one to stop him when he steps outside into the cold.
If life was ideal, Norway would've won, and he would be reunited with Denmark and Iceland. Sweden would eventually get Finland back, and they'd all become friends again.
It is as ridiculous as it sounds.
Ideal things are what everyone always wants and never gets, and Norway wonders what he would do next, because he doesn't know.
He reaches out a hand to catch the cold, white snowflakes.
Would he even see Denmark or Iceland again?
The obvious answer is yes, but not for a long time, he wouldn't.
The cold hardly affects Norway as he continues to stand in place. The snow falls and continues falling, smothering what remains of his hopes and desires.
The magic has broken, and the harsh reality begins to set in. There will be no independence. No reunions. All are figments of Norway's dreams and hopes, things without substance. Things that will not come true, now that Norway is officially part of Sweden.
Suddenly, Norway wishes that everything could just be like the old days, when they were carefree...happy…Unknowing of what the future has in store...
And it is at this time that he wishes that Denmark is here to support him. Norway longs for Denmark. His voice, his smile, his touch...everything.
It is always when you want something the most that you can't have it.
He stares down at the ground and laughs bitterly, shaking from both the cold and his despair.
Something wet trickles down Norway's face, and he quickly wipes away the tear, trying and failing to reign in his emotions, much to his mortification.
Why is he crying?
Months of hopes, dreams...all gone. Iceland...Denmark...Sweden...Norway feels like he's in the center of everything, unsure as to what to do. Go there? Or turn here? Everyone is tugging at him, and he is just the marionette, stuck in the middle and unable to move because of all the strings.
Norway feels alone.
Denmark is out there somewhere, but there is something keeping them apart. Something more than the Skagerrak strait that separates their land.
Avstanden...The distance that's between us...it is far, isn't it?
Norway takes a haggard breath, turmoil and conflict practically swirling inside him as he looks down at his feet.
He takes another slow, long breath of cold air, gradually looking up at the bleak and unforgiving sky.
Will there ever be an end to all of this?
The snow is still falling.
End.
A/N #2: Did you like it? Norway's way more emotional in this story, so he could be ooc. But I still like how this fic turned out.
I'm wrote this one-shot by myself, but I'm thinking of collaborating with my friend on a longer and different version.
Anyway...here's the notes section that you can skip if you want to.
Please fav and review!
Notes Section
(ㅎ.ㅎ✞)७ (ﾟヮﾟ)中
Historical + Language + General Notes:
Denmark-Norway: They entered a union in 1523, and their relationship is established and strong in this fic.
The Napoleonic Wars: War between England and France.
Kalmar Union: personal union between Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. Finland and Iceland were Swedish and Norwegian territory, respectively.
Land cessions: refers to the Northern Wars, Scanian Wars, etc. Denmark-Norway lost many land due to these wars. Not all of the land was regained.
England: he appears antagonistic, but a lot of things going on with him at this time. The War of 1812, Napoleonic Wars, etc. He is more haughty and unsympathetic during his empire days.
Finland and Russia: Sweden lost Finland to Russia in the Finnish War, and so Finland became Russian territory.
1523: the year Sweden broke free of the Kalmar Union.
Lappland: split into two after the Finnish war. The average temperature from Jan. to Feb. is -13.5 degrees Celsius (!)
Norway's Independence: The Norwegian people refused to join Sweden and declared their independence. They eventually lost though, and signed the Convention of Moss, a cease fire agreement.
Lillebror - little brother (Norwegian)
Storebror- big brother (Norwegian)
Vi er familie - We're family (Danish)
Jeg vil alltid være din, Danmark. Jeg elsker deg... I'll always be yours, Denmark. I love you…(ah, sappy, isn't it? *shrugs* I like it.)
Jeg er glad i deg - I love you (more casual and general way- something you also say to friends and family as well as romantic partners)
*Norwegians do not use "Jeg elsker deg" lightly.*
Jeg elsker også dig - I love you too (Danish)
And finally… Avstand - Distance (Norwegian). Avstanden is "the distance".
Fun Fact (I think it is interesting): In Norwegian, -en is "the". For example: katt (cat), katten (the cat)