DISCLAIMER: Hetalia is the rightful property of Hidekaz Himaruya.

ORIGINAL DATE: January 1, 2015

SYNOPSIS: Halloween has always had significance for James his whole life, from the beginning to the end.

FEATURED MAIN CHARACTERS: Liechtenstein, Iceland

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Due to my original account being closed (see main profile for more details), I have elected to re-upload this story on my new account.

~o~

LIECHTENSTEIN & ICELAND

The Wonders of Ice

~o~

An outing hosting the nations of the world was bound to be a glutton for trouble, generally nothing new to report. Was there anything else to expect after such a long track record? However, not every nation had the will to be so disagreeable at this time of year. For once, everyone was in a better mood in each other's company. The end of another year had found its way to their doorsteps, and while the citizens of the world went about in their own ways of celebrating it, their nations' personifications were going about another method.

A freezing wildness had been chosen to host the festivities, surrounded by snowcapped mountains and a vast, frozen lake, outlined by a dozen of two-story cabins—well, unusual 'cabins'. One could have mistaken them for five-star resorts, with glass walls and high-quality indoor furnishings. It was mightily impressive, especially since they had been commissioned for their nation guests, thanks to the quick hands China and his efficient workers, effectively resonating a Chinatown twist: bright red Chinese lanterns, which South Korea claimed as his own the minute he arrived. America had provided the sky-high Christmas tree, and the micronations had jumped to the chance at decorating it, with the help of Hungary and Finland.

It had been a surprise for everyone when Prussia insisted on Canada taking charge of the holiday get-together.

According to Germany, Prussia had gone to Canada for another stock of his favorite maple syrup for Christmas, only to realize that the shy, silence, and constantly ignored nation hadn't bothered to prepare for Christmas like his people, and opted to spend a quiet day home alone with the cute little polar bear who could never remember his name. Prussia would not have it. It was completely unawesome! Before Canada could stop the former nation, the invitations were posted to every nation that Prussia had deemed worthy of an invite, and now here they were, with a few choice crashers.

"What the hell?!" Prussia exclaimed, clamping his hand over his mouth only to withdraw a bloodied glove. "Who invited that devil, Russia? He doesn't celebrate Christmas until January! And why's the Skillet Witch here, too?!"

Canada blushed as he hugged Kumajiro closer to his chest. "I thought it would be impolite to leave them out," he said, his soft voice nervous and apologetic.

"Ah, Birdie, you're too polite…" Prussia grumbled to himself as Gilbird chirped happily and spun in circles around his head like a hyper halo, closely observed by the cute polar bear in Canada's arms.

America was a little disappointed when everyone—including England—voted on Prussia's idea of spending New Year's Day out in this cold wilderness as opposed to attending his radical New Year's Day party at the White House. After all, he considered Christmas Day enough in this place. After a few complaints and blackmail (via hiding his favorite video games, poisoning his hamburgers and a round with Russia's metal pipe of pain), America finally gave in to letting his brother host the nations' final party of the "old year" celebration after Christmas.

Christmas day had been enough trouble to deal with.

The Bad Touch Trio had secretly gone around hanging mistletoe all night on New Year's Eve, which had triggered a series of unfortunate events for every one of the nations. England's elder brothers had caught the trio in the act—and had started to help them, with an added twist. Christmas morning had been a whirlwind of laughter and curses. Greece and Japan had been the first to be caught under a mistletoe, and had remained under that accursed shrubbery through magical means until Greece finally gave Japan an innocent kiss on the lips, which ensured Japan's instantaneous flush and stuttering, Turkey's swearing, and Hungary's nosebleed.

It soon became apparent for all nations that this would be the case should any of them find themselves under a mistletoe, which appeared in the most embarrassing of places.

The worst had been between Denmark and Norway, both of whom were caught under one of the tricky sprigs in the showers. Neither were willing to confess how that happened, though Finland had speculated that the loud-mouthed nation had attempted to frighten the calmer nation while he was taking a bath. All that anyone knew for sure was that Denmark had spent the rest of the day in the infirmary with a bruised jaw, chipped teeth, and bruised ribs.

It almost eclipsed the awkward moment between England and America, both of whom had been caught under a mistletoe in the entryway to one of the cabins, right in front of the World's Marshmallow Campfire, and had refused to follow tradition for an entire hour until America finally ended the pettiness and planted a gentle kiss on England's forehead. Once they were freed, England spent the rest of the night trying to murder his elder brothers for their game, and Sealand had been exposed to a whole new level of vulgar language, much to Sweden's dismay.

New Year's Eve was declared their final day before the New Year begun, and everyone returned home to begin working again. With most of the accursed shrubbery rounded up and burned, normalcy finally returned—well, normalcy for personified nations, at least.

The evening soon transformed into night, and the nations were crowded around that vast lake, frozen solid without a chance of breaking. Prussia and Germany grunted under the weight of the gigantic clock America had brought for the final countdown. With only three hours left on the clock, many nations hurried outside to the make the most of the final few hours they had of another year, while others decided to remain indoors with eggnog to be their primary companion.

The lake was no stranger to ice skaters.

Japan glided over the ice with a serene smile, caught between an amicable discussion with Thailand and Vietnam, and assisting Greece from falling down. He seemed happy enough, but his face was too red for words, glowing like China's lanterns. It may have had something to do with Greece clinging to his arm for balance and avoid dropping the little white and brown kitten on his shoulder. Romano was even redder as he ran through the snow, spouting breathless profanities, while a laughing Spain chased him down for a friendly Boss-to-Henchman hug; both were unaware that France was close behind them, flashing off his devilishly charming smile and holding up a sprig of mistletoe with sly intentions.

Austria had busied himself with a violin near a crackling campfire, relenting his desire to play his piano indoors for a while at Hungary's request. He serenaded the other nation guests with classic Christmas melodies (featuring the occasional Chopin piece) while Hungary fed him bits of black rum fruit cake. It was difficult to tell if his blush was from the cold or her nearness.

Behind them, the Baltic trio scurried around, trying to avoid Russia's attention, while Belarus continued to trail behind her poor unsuspecting brother, with a bouquet of mistletoe in her clingy grip.

Other nations chatted, ignored each other or fought with one another in 'friendly' rounds of snowball fights. Many learned quickly that including any brother of the United Kingdom transformed the game into snowball slaughter once enchanted snowballs opted to chase them down if they tried to flee. That didn't stop America from throwing super-sized snowballs bigger than his own inflated head, while other nations like Australia and Romania continuously dodged out of the way while trying to build snowmen.

Every nation had their own way of celebrating the impending countdown.

Standing along the edge of the lake, like so many other nations in attendance, was Liechtenstein in ice skates. She shivered and rubbed her gloved hands together nervously. Swaying in her deep burgundy dress and snowy jacket, she stood beside her brother Switzerland, who was still dressed in his military clothes. The two had distanced themselves from the others to enjoyed a marginally smooth solitude, but Liechtenstein didn't mind. Her elder brother worked hard and only bothered to attend the party at her request to spend time with Hungary and Ukraine.

Except a wave of uncertainty had taken her.

She had spent a better portion of the day with her friends, but they were not spending time with their loved ones, giving her time to spend with her brother. Switzerland hadn't wanted her near England and his abrasive duo of siblings, Scotland and Wales, as they tried to handle a drunken Northern Ireland. He had moved her far from Russia, who was busy building snowmen in the form of Matryoshka dolls. He was a bodyguard at her sing, unwavering and determined.

His eyes narrowed as they scanned the perimeter, and when they fell on Austria, smiling as he played "Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" on his violin, his shoulders tensed. A low growl escaped his lips as sharply turned his head away as if that would help him ignore to ignore his former friend.

Liechtenstein took a deep breath. "Um. Big Bruder?" she inquired hesitantly.

"Yes? What is it?" Switzerland answered bluntly.

"Um. Well, I was wondering if you could teach me to skate again…"

Switzerland sighed, and his tense posture slowly smoothed out. "I suppose so," he said, a bit reluctantly. "I don't want you hurting yourself."

Liechtenstein nodded happily. She never minded Switzerland's overprotectiveness. He did so much to comfort and care for her that she couldn't find it in her heart to even argue with him, not that she really disagreed with most of his decisions, even if she did question his outdated planes.

A chill that had little to do with the cold swept over her as Switzerland helped her onto the ice. Even since the Incident, her liking of ice was very low, but she wanted to face her fears, and who better to help her than her big brother? Despite knowing how to ice skate, Switzerland rarely ever bothered to partake in the sport. He preferred snowboarding or skiing whenever the occasion called for it.

Liechtenstein had only ever seen him skate once before, and that was when she had asked him to teach her over a decade ago, the last time she had tried to face her fears. It hadn't gone well, and she had ended up with a broken ankle. She hadn't been too concerned by it when her ankle healed, but Switzerland was adamant that she stay away from the ice. She hadn't been bothered by that either, even though Hungary had tried to teach her afterward with little success. She preferred skiing to skating any day, but at this time of night, it wasn't safe.

However, it had taken the puppy dog eyes for him to allow her to try ice skating again.

Liechtenstein stood at the edge of the lake, watching as Sweden drove across the frozen surface on the Zamboni machine, polishing the rough ice into a glassy smooth surface, perfect for skating. Sealand sat on his shoulders, singing Christmas carols at the top of his lungs while Wy and Kugelmugel practically danced around in their wake, trying to teach Seborga how to skate. So far, he had fallen down fifteen times in seven minutes, and that was his best success rate. Liechtenstein giggled at the sight.

Switzerland scowled as he stepped onto the ice, taking his sister's hand into his own. "Don't let go of my hand," he said firmly.

"Yes, Big Bruder," Liechtenstein said happily.

The beginning was rough. Within the first ten seconds, Liechtenstein stumbled backward, her free arm flailing around in the air, but Switzerland caught hold of her before she fell. Once she stood straight again, he guided her a bit further out on the ice, not too far from the lake's edge. There was something about standing on thin blades that sparked a sense of insecurity in her chest, particularly with the wobbling. Handling skis were far easier, in her opinion.

"Now, don't distance your feet so much," Switzerland said. "That's why you're slipping. And don't hunch over like that. It throws off your balance."

His advice helped. A wide smile broke out over the smaller nation's as she started to get a hang of it. She was still wobbling, but not as much as before. However, her steady progress was cut short when a loud yell came zooming towards them.

"LOOK OUT!" Denmark's shrill warning came too late.

Switzerland's eyes widened at the sight of the out-of-control Italian micronation speeding towards them and only had time to push Liechtenstein out of the way before he was instantaneously knocked over by the heavy body like pinballs in a bowling alley. Liechtenstein squealed out in pain as she fell on her side, but not as loudly as Switzerland, who actually let out a brief string of profanities in the four languages of his country, German, Romansh, French and Italian in that order.

"Ah! My leg!" he gasped out, clutching at his injured limb, which was twisted at a horrendous angle and—was that a bone jutting out from his bloody flesh?!

"Big Bruder!" Liechtenstein's eyes widened with alarm as she pulled herself over to her brother. Three more nations skated up towards them, followed by Wy and Kugelmugel, wide-eyed and worried. She recognized them as the Nordics: Norway, Denmark, and Finland.

"Seborga! Look at what you did!" Wy screeched at the bigger micronation, who was currently twisted around like a pretzel, still dazed by the impact and groaning like a dead man.

"I didn't mean to—AH!" Seborga practically screamed in agony as Kugelmugel and Wy managed to detach his poorly twisted body, but his arm remained at a twisted angle. "Mio dio! That hurt!" He whimpered, sounding like his brother Italy Veneziano.

Liechtenstein sniffled with worry as Denmark and Norway hovered over Switzerland, inspecting his leg, while Finland immediately went over to inspect Seborga. The sound of the Zamboni machine grew louder and the vehicle stopped a few meters away. Sweden jumped down, Sealand still positioned on his shoulders and hurried over to the other nations. Liechtenstein couldn't help but wonder how such a large and startling nation could move so effortlessly and surprisingly gracefully on the ice in winter boots, while she couldn't manage to skate for a few feet by herself without being clumsy.

"What happened?" Sweden inquired in his thick Swedish accent, lifting his adoptive son off his shoulders and setting him down next to Wy.

"Broken leg," Norway announced calmly as he helped Finland disentangle Seborga's limbs, ignoring his squeals of pain. "We'll have to take him back inside."

"And Seborga's got a dislocated shoulder," Finland added.

Wy sighed irritably. "I told you to watch where you were going!" she scolded the injured micronation. "But do you listen? No!"

"Wy! That's not helping!" Kugelmugel protested.

Sweden stooped down and picked up the cursing Germanic nation with effortless ease, ignoring his protests. "Norway, take care of the Zamboni," he said before running on the ice towards the cabins, not slipping once. Norway sighed softly, but he didn't argue as he climbed up into the driver's seat. It was best not to leave it there anyway.

"I guess that leaves you with me… whatever your name is!" Denmark declared before hoisting a startled Seborga over his shoulder and skating off after the other Nordic, ignoring the micronation's protests and the pain in his chest from stooping down.

"Big Bruder!" Liechtenstein made an effort to get to her feet, only to fall back down again with an, "Ah!"

"Oh! Be careful!" Finland reached out a hand and helped Liechtenstein up. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Liechtenstein sniffled. "No, Mr. Finland," she admitted. "Big Bruder saved me." Her eyes began to tear up as she gently rubbed at her left side, upon which she had fallen when Switzerland pushed her to safety. "Do you think he's going to be okay? He hasn't had an injury like that in decades!"

Finland smiled kindly. "Mr. Switzerland has always been strong and tough," he said, adding cheerfulness to his voice to sooth her. "I'll go check up on him for you. I'll get there faster." He looked around at the remaining younger Nordic. "Ice, you can look after Miss Liechtenstein for her brother, can't you?"

Iceland, who had been busy at his favorite pastime (glaring at his elder brother Norway), turned a cool eye towards Finland. "Um…I suppose so, Fin," he said calmly.

Finland nodded and immediately started to skate away, only to stop when Sealand asked for a ride (due to his lack of skates and skating experience) before hurrying off with the other micronations towards the cabins. Liechtenstein wiped her eyes free of tears, though her worry for her brother never dimmed.

"I shouldn't have asked him to skate with me," she said sadly. "He wouldn't have gotten hurt."

Iceland rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. What was he supposed to say in a situation like this? He rarely ever spoken to Liechtenstein. He could only recount a handful of conversations between them, and that had all been business. He only ever saw her at Council Meetings, and she was always in the company of Switzerland. The most contact they had was through EFTA meetings (European Free Trade Association) with Norway and Switzerland, but that was mostly their bosses doing work while they just stood there awkwardly.

Not to mention that Switzerland always took on Liechtenstein's main communications duties.

"It's not your fault," he finally said. "It could have been anyone. He chose to protect you." He sighed to himself. "It's what…it's what big brothers do."

He hoped with all his heart that Norway wasn't anywhere near him to hear that. And he was glad he left Mr. Puffin in his room, or else the bird would've started cackling there and then.

"Big Bruder has always protected me." Liechtenstein took a deep breath and started to move towards the edge of the frozen lake, only to stumble and fall back, right against Iceland's chest. "Oh! I'm so sorry, Mr. Iceland!" she exclaimed as he helped her stand upright. "I hope I didn't hurt you!"

"No, it's alright." Iceland's face was expressionless, but not unkind. "You do not ice skate often, do you?"

Liechtenstein shook her head as a pale pink flush bloomed across her cheeks. "No. Big Bruder tried to teach me, but I hurt myself too often, so he stopped. Hun—Miss Hungary, I mean—tried to show me another time, but I sprained my arm when I fell. And now he's hurt, and there's nothing I can do."

The sadness in her voice prickled at Iceland's heart, though a glimmer of it never reached his face. He had always been a natural on the ice. In fact, he had been born on an iceberg during winter in his homeland, beyond its grassy plains towards the sea, under those bright Northern lights of the night sky, the Aurora Borealis. He could skate, and even run on the crystallized surface without the fear of falling because centuries of practice made it second nature.

"Crying about it won't help," Iceland said slowly, not wanting to upset her further, but not wanting to lie to her either. "I don't believe he'd want you to either. Everyone gets hurt. We heal and move on. That's our nature."

Liechtenstein dabbed away the water drops creeping up at the corner of her eyes with her soft yet cold glove.

"I suppose so…" She offered Iceland a sweet smile. "Big Bruder wouldn't want me to cry. Thank you, Mr. Iceland."

Iceland blushed. "You don't need to be so formal," he said. "It's Christmas. Well, for another few hours."

They also looked like mortal teenagers. His blush darkened at her light giggles. He wasn't used to people laughing at him unless they were Denmark or Finland, and even then, he didn't like it. But he supposed a laughing Liechtenstein would be preferred instead of a crying Liechtenstein.

"I see. Well, danke, Mist… Ice—land," Liechtenstein said, as if tasting his name on her tongue, smiling up at him. Her face fell slightly as she added, "I should go inside. If Big Bruder isn't here to teach me to skate, he wouldn't want me out here on the ice. If only Uku* wasn't having back pains again…"

Iceland rubbed the back of his neck, before allowing his white-gloved hand to run over his tousled silvery white hair. The awkward mood settled back down between them at the sound of her disappointment. Did she really want to learn how to skate? It seemed like a big deal to her. His lips smoothed out into a simple line. Switzerland wasn't the only nation who knew how to skate, but he doubted that the stricter nation would allow any of them to get near his little sister…

"If you want, I could teach you."

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. What was he thinking? He caught that look of utter surprise on her face and mentally slapped himself. That was out of character, even for him! He never liked teaching other people anything, unless they were his own people in the need of guidance.

"But if you don't want to, then—well, that's…alright."

'Smooth,' Mr. Puffin's voice cackled in his head. 'Real smooth, tough guy!' Ugh, even when that bird wasn't around, he was still mocking him!

"I can't ask you to do that," Liechtenstein said, a pale rose color dusting over her cheekbones.

"I'm offering." Iceland took a deep breath and swerve around the small nation in a perfect circle, using only his right foot. "You would able to skate off this lake yourself, at the very least."

Her blush deepened as he cautiously held out his hand for her own. Though his expression remained neutral, she glimpsed a spark of understanding him his violet eyes. She accepted his help, entwining her small hand in his large one, and he immediately began with his explanation. He showed her how to stand properly, and held her hand cordially, like a dance partner.

"You said you ski?" he asked. Liechtenstein nodded. "Then you know how to glide."

"Only on a slope. Otherwise, I would walk," she replied. "It's different, being on the ice than on snow. There both so cold…" She smiled. "And yet, snow is much softer."

Iceland mused over this. Liechtenstein had her fair share of snowy mountains and landscapes. She wouldn't fear snow. But why did she have an issue with ice skating? Surely her people ice skated in her country… Why was he asking these questions? They didn't concern him!

'You offered her skating lessons,' he reminded himself. 'That's all. Enough overthinking.'

Liechtenstein wobbled again as Iceland led her further out on the ice. They passed Japan, Thailand, Vietnam, and Greece along the way, and Liechtenstein was vaguely gratified at Greece's skating skills, which weren't any better than hers. He held on to Japan and the little kitten for dear life, so much that Japan had invented a brand new shade of red. Thailand looked ready to laugh. Vietnam appeared not to have noticed.

"You're improving," Iceland remarked after a half hour passed. "Perhaps we can try this without you holding my hand now."

Liechtenstein bit her lower lip anxiously and nodded with keen determination. She could do this, she thought to herself. She could do this. She released Iceland from her death grip—which had only been acknowledged when he cradled his poor hand to his chest without wincing—and stared down at the ice.

There were grooves embedded into the ice, the only reminder that someone had been skating there before them. Hesitantly, she pushed herself forward with her left foot, gliding with her right—then her left—then her right—she almost got the hang of it when the front of her skating boot snagged against something on the ice, sending her sprawling forwards with a loud, painful thump onto the ground.

"Ah!" she gasped, her hands stinging from when she threw them out to lessen her impact.

The sting rang up to her wrist and forearms, and her knees were practically crying as they collided with the hard, icy "ground" of the lake's surface. Thankfully, her outstretched hands prevented her from a full body impact on the ice, but she found herself face to face with a horrendously and indistinctly distorted version of her reflection, followed by the sight of cracks under the ice's surface. Her heart thumped erratically and her joints froze up.

"Liechtenstein!" Iceland was next to her in a heartbeat. He bent down and scooped her up with a surprising amount of strength and helped her to her feet. "Are you hurt?"

Liechtenstein was frozen in Iceland's arms. Her heart thundered in her chest, but his words were incomprehensible to her. The image of cracking ice had completely overwhelmed her senses, and an icy sense of dread trickled across her exposed neck and down her spine. It was as if she couldn't breathe, as though the air around her fled from existence and left her to choke.

"Fröken Liechtenstein!" Iceland grasped her by the shoulders and shook her back into reality. "Can you hear me? Are you alright?"

The smaller nation blinked in surprise as the image of Iceland's worried expression filled her vision. She swallowed shaky breath and nodded her head numbly. Removing her gloves, she inspected her hands, and then her knees, still unaware that Iceland's hands were still holding her protectively. Thankfully, there was no blood shed, but her skin was bound to bruise by morning.

"It's nothing that I'm unable to handle," she admitted softly.

"It didn't look that way." Iceland removed his hold on her waist as Liechtenstein slipped the gloves back on her hands. He glanced down at the ice. "Hmph! That micronation sure did cause some damage, falling so often," he remarked. He propped a broken dip into the ice, as if something had cut into it. "The skates can do this, believe it or not. I've even seen them in ice rinks." He realized that Liechtenstein was gripping onto his arm rather tightly. "If you want, we can move from here. The ice further out—"

"No!" Liechtenstein exclaimed, before flushing like a pink rose. "I mean to say—well, I think it's better to stay closer to the edge. That's what Big Bruder said."

Iceland studied her expression before shrugging his shoulder. "If that's what you want…"

She never once released him from her hold, and Iceland was certain that her shivering wasn't only from the cold. In times like this, Finland would have encouraged him to talk to her about it. It was instinctive with him, being the most paternal of the Nordic group. But Iceland wasn't one for small chats, so they remained quiet as he escorted her closer to the lake's frozen edge. Finally, his curiosity won over.

"Are you frightened of the ice?" he asked calmly. Liechtenstein tensed and loosened her grip on him, though she still held on.

"Why would you ask that?" she responded softly.

"You were doing well until a moment ago when you fell. I've long learned how to recognize terror within one's eyes. It's a trait we Nordics know well." He stopped skating, bringing them both to a halt. "You'd fallen before when Switzerland prevented that micronation from colliding with you, and you hadn't shown such fear before."

Liechtenstein sighed and bowed her head, concealing her green eyes from his gaze.

"It's alright to be afraid," Iceland said. "The worst I've ever been was when I was impaled—" Liechtenstein gasped. Blood flooded Iceland's cheeks. "—but that's not a conversation for now. But you should know that if you have any qualms about being here, then skating will be impossible. It's best that we know now so that we don't waste each other's time."

He had not intended to sound so blunt and unfeeling, having the tendency of terrible social skills with the other nations outside of his Nordic group, but he wanted to clarify his intents between them before something else happened. And he genuinely didn't want to spend his time unnecessarily skating on the ice. Norway and Finland had dragged him out here in the first place, and the only reason he remained was for Liechtenstein's sake, and he wasn't even sure he understood the reasons for that.

"I don't think of it often," Liechtenstein said softly, her short blond hair gently swaying in the frigid air around them. "It happened so long ago… It was before Big Bruder took me into his home. I lived in Mr. Austria's house with Miss Hungary until the dissolution of their Empire. Every day, I'd wake up to the sound of Mr. Austria's piano, and I always helped Miss Hungary cook and clean. It was pleasant enough."

She raised her head to gaze at Iceland, and the taller nation was startled to see the growing mist forming around her eyes. She smiled fondly at the memory only she could see.

"Those days were simple," she remarked wistfully. "Even now, I can still hear his music."

"I think that's because he's over there," Iceland said humorlessly, pointing at Austria, who was still playing his violin.

Liechtenstein's lips turned upwards, and she fought a round of giggles as she and her companion stared off towards the campfire where, sure enough, Austria stood with his violin, playing "So This Is Christmas" while Hungary fed him bites of rum cake. Kugelmugel stood next to him, trying to mimic the nation's pose with his paintbrushes, earning light laughter from Hungary.

"He was playing his violin that day," Liechtenstein recalled as Iceland began skating once more, bringing her along since she had not yet released her grip on his arm. "Miss Hungary wanted to hear him play it for a change because he always played his piano."

She could see it clearly in her memories, of watching Austria stand near the windows of the parlor, playing one of Hungary's favorite songs while she sat on a plush chair, smiling at him. She hadn't wanted to disturb them, so she'd gone outside.

"It was nearing spring, but winter wasn't over just yet. I decided to go for a walk near the stone pond behind Mr. Austria's house. During the warmer seasons, Miss Hungary and I would go swimming there since Mr. Austria didn't have a pool. I was always the smallest, so my feet could not even touch the bottom, and it always seemed so big. I was there for so long that I didn't notice the time. I remember taking out the pocket watch Miss Hungary had given me, but my hands were so cold…" Liechtenstein closed her eyes as she drifted along beside Iceland. "I dropped it on the ice. I only meant to pick it up, but the edge of the pond was slippery and I tripped. I fell and… and…"

Her voice faded, but Iceland could understand what she meant. Nearing spring meant that the temperature was warmer, even if it was still winter.

"You broke through the ice," he guessed.

She nodded sadly.

"I—I couldn't think. I thought my skin was alit with fire, and I couldn't breathe. My hands had gone numb, and I had tried to swim to the surface but I was never the best swimmer…" She sniffled. "It all happened so quickly. I must have moved around too much when I'd gone under because when I tried to touch the surface, I only touched the ice. I thought it'd frozen over. I thought I'd die.

"And then Miss Hungary pulled me out of the water. She'd seen me fall in from the parlor and rescued me. I was ill for days. I couldn't go back to the pond. I could just see it, falling through the ice again. I didn't want to experience that ever again. I never even went on the ice again until after I moved in Big Bruder Switzerland's house. I saw him ice skate once, and I wanted to learn, but I ended up injuring myself because I couldn't keep my balance. I was always scared of it happening again."

Iceland thought about it for a while. He had bathed in icy water before. He actually enjoyed it but staring at the unusual sadness on the usually gleeful and keen nation's face, and those misty, bright, sweet eyes, his chest felt warmer with the sympathy welling up inside him. He knew she was stronger than she appeared.

One time, after an EFTA meeting at Switzerland's house, he'd seen both Switzerland and Liechtenstein enter a shooting range in the backyard. Small she may be, but she could hit a target blindfolded. On Boxing Day, she even playfully challenged the Bad Touch Trio at a drinking game with Hungary and Ukraine and won. It made him wonder if she could beat him. He doubted that anyone could be Luxembourg. Denmark certainly couldn't.

Yet, every nation had their irrational fears that they would never truly admit to. Some were of the dark. Others were of insects. Abandonment. Horror films. Belarus. Iceland didn't bother to keep a list, but he knew a small deal already. Falling through the ice and dying beneath it wasn't irrational as far as he was concerned. He'd seen it happen before.

"You shouldn't let that fear control you," he said after a moment's silence, taking Liechtenstein's hand into his own as he moved to skate while face towards her. "You're out here, aren't you? That's one step. You fear that if you fall, you'll break through the ice and that by ice skating, you could fall. You don't even visualize it, but it's there. Let that go and you can skate all you want. After all, you do ski, Fröken."

A small, shy smile graced her face, and Iceland was relieved that the color was coming back to her cheeks. The last person he wanted to deal with was an angry Switzerland for making his little sister cry. That would come back to haunt him for sure.

"You really think so?" she asked hopefully as they moved a bit faster on the ice. Did he really think she could skate without that fear?

For the first time that night, Iceland smiled at her, and Liechtenstein thought he should smile more often. He was far more handsome that way. "I have amicable proof," he said, his violet eyes filled with light amusement.

"And what would that be?"

"Just look."

Having completely forgotten what they were doing while talking, Liechtenstein stared at Iceland, who had raised the palms of both his hands for her to see. She was clutching on to neither of them. He was still in front of her, skating backward with elegant grace, but she wasn't holding onto him. And she was skating as fast as he was!

Wait. Was she skating on her own? And she wasn't stumbling? Liechtenstein's eyes widened as Iceland skated further away from her. "I think you're doing rather well for a beginner, don't you?"

It hit her like a snowball to the back of the head. She was ice skating. She was really ice skating!

She let out a glee peal of laughter as she followed Iceland across the frozen surface, past the Asian nations and Greece, and even past the other nations like Monaco and Seychelles, who had just started to skate themselves. An entire five minutes passed before Liechtenstein realized that she'd completely forgotten about that memory, but she was too happy to even care.

"I think I know what you did," she said playfully as Iceland began to circle her while she still moved in one direction, unable to do any of the stunts he was capable of.

"Oh, and do tell, Fröken Liechtenstein?"

"You distracted me, Mr. Iceland," she replied simply. "We talked long enough for me to forget why I was falling. I didn't focus on it at all."

"Guilty. I believe magicians use it frequently," he said, suppressing a laugh at the sight of her glowing glee. "Keep the audience occupied on one trick while performing another without them noticing. And Norway and Finland used to do so when I was a newborn nation, to get me to eat."

He sounded a bit mortified for blurting out that last bit, but he didn't mind her laughter this time.

As time went by, Liechtenstein enjoyed skating with Iceland. Yes, she fell a few times along the way, but now she was eager to get up and try again, especially with Iceland's flushing reassurance that, "As long as I'm with you out here, you'll be safe. I promise."

With Austria's gentle violin playing in the distance, reminding her of soothing memories she had in her younger years, Liechtenstein's heart flittered in her chest. The night was welcomed by those millions of glittering stars speckled around the moon, and even the glimmer of the Aurora Borealis, which Iceland 'joked' had followed him to Canada, since it reminded him of his homeland.

Iceland's shoulder stiffened when he felt Liechtenstein's hand encase his own. He turned towards her to enquire what the matter was, only to see her pointing towards the camp. "I think it's almost New Year's," she commented. "Everyone's gathering back there."

"Is that so?" Iceland tried not to feel disappointed. "Well then, we should get back, or we'll miss it."

Liechtenstein smiled. "Race you there!"

"What?" But she had already left him behind. Smirking to himself, Iceland immediately hastened to catch up to her. "Hey, come back!"

They were already at the lake's edge when Iceland grabbed her playfully around her middle, sending them both sprawling into the soft snowbank. They emerged together, laughing like schoolchildren, and covered in snow dust. Nearby nations stared at Iceland—was he laughing? Was it a miracle?—who stumbled to his feet and helped Liechtenstein to hers.

"There you two are!" Finland ran up to the two nations, breathless and rosy-cheeked. "Miss Liechtenstein, I believe you'll be happy to know that your brother will make a full recovery. I took care of his leg and he's in his room resting. He's also asking for you."

Liechtenstein's eyes brightened like the sun. "Oh really? Thank you, thank you!" She wrapped Finland in a gleeful hug, which he returned wholeheartedly.

"You're welcome." Finland smiled at the two of them. "I'm going to go look for Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, okay, Ice? There are only two minutes left." He ran off in the other direction. Sure enough, beyond where he had been standing was that clock America had brought to the party. It was four minutes to midnight.

"Let's go back to the cabins," Iceland suggested. "It's going to be noisy over here."

Liechtenstein agreed, and the two nations walked towards the Germanic Cabin, where Liechtenstein and Switzerland were staying with Germany, Prussia, and Austria. All around them, Prussia and Spain were handing out drinks, and everyone was chatting excitedly. It was true that years passed quickly for nations, but each one was considered special to each of them. They always celebrated them to the fullest, even if their hangovers prevented them from remembering in the morning. Or afternoon. Or when they woke up.

"I want to say thank you, for helping me, Mr. Iceland," Liechtenstein said as they found themselves at the front door.

"I told you that you don't have to be so formal," Iceland said, his cheeks faintly pink.

"But you've been calling me 'Fröken' all this time," she added cheekily. His blush darkened.

"You understood that?" She smiled sweetly and nodded.

There was no point in denying it. Iceland ran a hand through his already messy hair and raised his head, about to stretch his back, when he spotted it—that accursed shrubbery.

"Hvað í fjandanum? (What the hell?)" he gasped, staring at it in horror, not noticing Liechtenstein's face reddening for his language. "Is that—one of the mistletoe those three hung up?"

If possible, her face became redder. She tried to move, but her feet were stuck in the skates, which were stuck to the floor. The same results spurred from Iceland, and the two nations, scarlet as people could ever be, stared at one another in shock. Wasn't it supposed to be winter, and frigidly cold? Then why was it suddenly so hot? They were in Canada place! Not Australia's!

"That means…" Iceland didn't finish as America began yelling.

"Hey! Yo, everyone!" The overly energetic nation waved to everyone from the campfire, where Austria had finally stopped playing his violin. "We've got twenty seconds to the New Year! And nineteen!"

Everyone began to count down with him, and all Liechtenstein and Iceland could do was stare and each other and blush, as though those were the only functions they were capable of. No one was actually paying them any attention. They were too busy counting.

"Twelve! Eleven!"

"Well, I've—um—I mean—" Iceland stuttered. He could hear every last one of Mr. Puffin's remarks in his head, but he didn't care.

"Nine! Eight! Seven!"

Liechtenstein looked directly into his eyes. She considered his chagrined embarrassment to be quite endearing and sweet.

"Four! Three!"

"I know," was all she said.

"Two!"

His gaze softened as she smiled at him.

"One!"

Liechtenstein leaned forward and kissed Iceland's jaw, the highest point she could reach since he was still frozen in surprise, but a kiss was a kiss, no matter where it went.

"Happy New Year's!" everyone cheered.

Liechtenstein beamed at Iceland, before giving him a gentle hug. "Happy New Year's, Mr. Iceland," she said. "Ich danke Ihnen sehr! (Thank you very much!)"

Iceland's tense posture finally melted away, and though his reciprocation of that hug was too awkward for words, its intentions were understood and accepted. "Happy New Year's, Fröken Liechtenstein. Þú ert velkominn (You're welcome)."

His eyes followed her as she entered the cabin area, and immediately he tore down the mistletoe and threw it into a nearby brazier. No need for anyone to get stuck under that again. He turned and walked away from the cabin, only to stop when he realized that there were two people in his way. To his dismay, it was Denmark and Norway.

"So, Ice," Norway said slowly. His expression was as calm as ever, but his dull blue eyes were gleaming.

"What? What's wrong with you now?" Iceland asked, folding his arms in annoyance. This wasn't going to be good at all.

"We were just wondering, Ice," Denmark said, before chuckling to himself.

"Gods, can't the two of you make any sense?" Iceland complained, but internally, he was panicking. They didn't see what happened, did they?

Denmark grinned. "Well, we just wanted to know…" He grinned and playfully punched Iceland on the shoulder. "What next?"

Iceland frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"You know!"

"I don't."

Norway hummed, the ghost of a smile meeting his face in a way that most humans would think of as angelic, but to his little brother, it was demonic. "Should I expect a little sister soon?" he asked teasingly.

"Or a nephew? Maybe a niece?" Denmark added, chortling. "Both?"

A fire burned under Iceland's face. Even Sweden, who was standing next to Finland (who was hiding a grin nonetheless) appeared amused by their teasing. Without thinking, Iceland threw themselves at the two nations, yelling, "SHUT UP! That's none of your business!"

"Oh, what a lovely way to start off the year." Finland sighed and shook his head.

"Mhm," Sweden said. "Ah. He's going to kill them."

He pointed to Iceland's hands around Denmark's neck.

"We can't let that happen," Finland said, hurrying to pry the mortified nation of his brother and friend. Sweden allowed himself a small chuckle before helping Denmark out of Iceland's reach.

The Nordics remained blissfully unaware that Liechtenstein could see and hear them from the second floor of the cabin. Her eyes glittered with amused and embarrassment for both herself and Iceland and hoped that, for his sake, such words never met the ears of her big brother, Switzerland. Only God knew what he would do, especially with his arsenal. Regardless of that thought, she hoped that Iceland wouldn't get hurt.

After all, she hoped dearly that he would go skating with her again in the morning.

~o~

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

Due to the closing of my previous account, all my posted stories were no longer available for reading. To my readers, both new and old (possibly), I apologize for the inconvenience. I hope you continue to enjoy this story.

ORIGINAL AUTHOR'S NOTES:

So, even though I'm feeling sick, I still have a few ideas to write with. I thought this one would be sweet, but don't tell Switzerland! *shush!*

Song of the Chapter: Lindsey Stirling – Transcendence (Orchestral Version)

A FEW NOTES SIDE NOTES:

Uku – the nickname for Ukraine used by Liechtenstein and Hungary. Those three are good friends. In turn, Hungary is called "Hun", and Liechtenstein is called "Liechten".

European Free Trade Association - an intergovernmental organization set up for the promotion of free trade and economic integration to the benefit of its four Member States. EFTA was founded by the following seven countries: Austria, Denmark, Norway, Portugal, Sweden, Switzerland and the United Kingdom. Finland joined in 1961, Iceland in 1970 and Liechtenstein in 1991. In 1973, the United Kingdom and Denmark left EFTA to join the EC. They were followed by Portugal in 1986 and by Austria, Finland, and Sweden in 1995. Today the EFTA Member States are Iceland, Liechtenstein, Norway, and Switzerland.

This came out later than I expected it to, but finally it's completed. It was supposed to be for Christmas day, but then I got sidetracked with a Christmas gift and I just left it. So, now it's a New Year's Day plot. I honestly don't have that much of a grasp on Liechtenstein's and Iceland's personalities, so this was just difficult to write. Well, for me. I think I might have done better with other nations, but I just wanted to write about these two. And I'm new at writing for Hetalia, other than one story before this one, so apologies for any OCC-ness. And typos. If you see any, feel free to point them out.

This story serves as my first for the year 2015. Wow. I'm getting old. I'll never be as old as a nation, I'm sure, but unlike them, I age. Oh well. The perks of being mortal. I think. Anyway, I just want to wish anyone who reads this a Happy New Year. I hope to write more stories in this one than I did last year. Which is only yesterday right now. Too weird.

~o~

Ciao for now,

Lady.Artemis.Isis.13