Cold Admiration

The morning air's cold nipped at the sailors' exposed skin as they waited impatiently outside the deck. Many of the men wrapped themselves in as much clothing as they could muster but it didn't do much thanks to the icy waters crashing against the ships. Now that the sun finally rose, everyone stood straight in anticipation for their captain and leader to appear.

He stepped out of his cabin in a brisk manner, his silver snow hair blowing in the gentle breeze and a puffin resting on his shoulder. The young male was accompanied by a light blond Norwegian who followed tiredly.

"Iceland, this is ridiculous."

The Icelandic male turned to him with an irritated look in his eyes. "My people rely too much on fishing for me to just give up," he argued. "And that Brit invaded our waters and he refuses to leave so this is the only other option."

"But England's naval abilities are too strong, you'll be beaten."

"You didn't have to come with me if you're so reluctant, Norway."

"You don't have to be so cold about it. I came because I care about you Ice." Iceland didn't really like the nickname Norway had given him but that wasn't the point. He knew Norway cared but this was something he had to do for his people and it was their right in the first place.

"Alright then… we should get ready," he decided. "Now that morning is here, there's no telling when England will start attacking. And since it is England, we need to be prepared."

The naval soldiers all took note of Iceland's orders and began to go to their designated areas. Iceland took his place inside the ship where he would be able to give out his orders via the speakers.

After the first few hours of silence and watching, it was broken as the lookout spotted the British ships sailing into their waters. Iceland began to order the ships into a tactical defense position as the ships approached them. He had to make sure the fishermen that were behind them wouldn't get hurt but conflict was inevitable.

Iceland took out his binoculars and out in the distance, he could see that familiar fair shade of blond and the large eyebrows that hung right over emerald green eyes. He couldn't take this situation lightly; the Brit was a pirate that terrorized the sea.

Without any warning, the sounds of cannons firing pierced the air. Immediately after, the sound of explosions and water echoed across the clear seas as the attack had finally begun. Iceland acted quickly, ordering all his men to fire back in defense. Eventually, they made their attack and the two were now on equal terms. However, England had gained the advantage when he attacked first and his forces greatly outnumbered them and now his ships were speeding right toward them.

Iceland knew he couldn't stop the British from boarding their ships but what he could do was make sure they couldn't take the ships. Iceland stood up from his seat and ran over to the weapons supply and found his trusty spear. He charged out of the captain quarters and ran out to the deck of the ship.

Iceland knew that the shots fired were just to scare them off and that if actual blood was spilled; it was cause something much greater. To his surprise, the first person to arrive onto his ship was the leader himself, England.

"England," he greeted hatefully.

"Iceland," the Brit announced. Even though England had boarded the ship, he didn't raise his sword or gun toward him. England had renounced his pirate ways long ago and now he was a gentleman. He wanted to avoid this simple conflict if he could but at the same time, he wasn't afraid to fight.

"Listen first," England requested. "I'll give you two options. One, you can just give up now and no one will get hurt."

Iceland didn't look amused by the request. "And the other?"

"The other, we'll fight. Either way, you can't win this battle."

"I chose other then," he announced.

England looked greatly disappointed in the answer but removed his sword from its sheath without any question. Iceland quickly got ready in his fighting position and without another moment's waste, the two eagerly dashed off.

As soon as the two blades met, sparks flew from the steel as the sound of metal scrapping against metal resounded across the deck. Iceland's movements were quick as he twirled his spear around. He had the advantage of attack range since his spear was far longer than England's one-handed sword and the spear's length added to his defense as well. England, despite the disadvantage, was very quick with his swordplay. Neither of the nations gave way as they fought stubbornly.

Iceland couldn't afford to waste any time on the Brit. If the fight lasted too long, he would tire and England's forces would easily take over his measly naval front. Iceland decided that he had to end this now, before that could happen.

In a flash, Iceland raised his blade and knocked England's sword into the air. Without wasting his chance, Iceland charged the Englishman. But England's reflexes kicked in and he just barely managed to doge the spear's point as Iceland ran past him. The spear had nicked his side as blood started to stain his uniform.

Iceland wasn't going to let England recover and he charged yet again. England wouldn't let the same trick work twice and England side-stepped the assault and grabbed onto the wooden pole of the spear. England then forcefully shoved the young man from his weapon and tossed the spear overboard into the icy waters.

"Bloody hell," England cursed. Even if he did manage to make it a stalemate, he was the only one that sustained an injury.

England wanted to retreat but Iceland was blocking his only means of escape. England turned his head around and began to formulate a plan. This was a battleship, despite its inadequate size; there had to be more weapons or something he could use to defend himself.

Cautiously, England turned around and ran for a nearby door. Iceland was startled by the sudden action and ran after England. Despite being injured, England didn't let it faze him. The Englishman searched through every doorway he could find and always came up empty handed. He soon reached a dead end and the final door.

England looked back and at the corner of the hallway, he could see Iceland's shadow growing larger and closer. Whatever was behind this door, he'd have to use as a weapon. England burst through the door and entered a dimly lit room. Immediately, the distinctive scent of fish came into his vision and he realized, he was in the fish storage.

"Bloody hell…"

England didn't have any time to waste so he did what he had to. England went over and searched for a reasonably sized cod and turned around. Iceland flew into the room, panting from the run but he had a new spear with him.

The moment Iceland saw England with a fish and in a fighting stance, he burst into shear laughter. The great England was reduced to wielding a fish. Iceland was laughing so hard, tears began to emerge. England saw his chance and charged the distracted nation.

Iceland broke from his laughter and saw England quickly approaching him. But it was too late. England was far too close within Iceland's range and using the fish, he knocked the spear out from Iceland's hands and into the corner of the room.

"What the…" Iceland blurted. Before the boy could react, England began to repeatedly smack Iceland with the cold and smelly fish.

The fish didn't hurt too badly but it was just annoying and embarrassing that he was being beat with a fish. Iceland quickly jumped to the side and avoided England's assault. He cursed under his breath and reached over, retrieving his own cod to fight with.

Now the two were on equal terms but the scene was just too ridiculous for words. Two nations in a war and they were fighting with fish.

"Why don't you just give up and come quietly you git?"

The younger nation gave him a cold stare. "Once you get out of my people's waters."

"Then it seems we're at an impasse."

The two didn't waste any more time chatting and charged off to attack one another. The fight was hardly lethal or epic. They were fighting with fish after all but the fight was starting to turn more into a bad prank rather than a fight to the death.

The two resorted to using dirty tricks against the other. England pinned Iceland to the ground and began to shove fish down his pants and into his shirt. "What now you brat!"

Iceland cringed from the overwhelming stench but quickly broke free of England's grip and removed the fish from his clothes. Just as an experiment, he lifted his arm up to smell and gagged. He reeked of fish. England was too busy laughing to notice Iceland had moved forward.

It was now England who was pinned to the ground as he struggled desperately to escape. Iceland climbed on top of the Brit and now began to shove fish down his throat. England began to gasp for air as the smell of fish invaded his senses and his mouth. "Quit complaining," Iceland mumbled. "At least it tastes better than your cooking."

He went too far. England used every ounce of his strength and shoved the Icelandic off of him and spat out the fish. "You're going to pay for that remark you wanker. I'll make you beg for my cooking compared to what I'm going to do to you."

"I'd like to see you try," Iceland retorted.

Just as the two were about to engage in another fight, an explosion rippled through the ship and threw off their balance. "What in the world was that?" Iceland exclaimed.

England grinned. "It's about time he made his move." England threw Iceland out of his way and began to run.

Iceland clenched his teeth together and started to chase after the Englishman. Just as he reached the deck a dark figure flew right above him. All his attention was focused onto the figure before him. The teen in front of him had dark hair and was dressed in some foreign red jacket. The teen was clearly not from here but something about him mesmerized Iceland. The Asian turned his head slightly to see Iceland and he could clearly see his golden eyes that rested under similar eyebrows of England.

Before Iceland could do anything else, the Asian charged him. The mysterious teen began a barrage of kicks and strikes that assaulted Iceland. He was very well trained but Iceland refused to lose so easily. The nation tried to counter attack but his attacks merely missed or were blocked.

"Who are you?" Iceland demanded.

The Asian remained silent and continued to fight but just as he was about to deal a strike, a voice rang out from behind both of them. "Hong Kong! Let's go!"

Hong Kong turned around and saw Iceland preparing to leave on his ship and the Cantonese teen quickly retreated and followed. Iceland was left in a daze as he saw the duo escape but he couldn't ignore the fact that the ship had been damaged and his crew was running about trying to solve it. He turned his back reluctantly and went to help.

"Ow…" Iceland cringed.

"Hold still Ice," Norway commanded. "You got some bruises all over your body and this will help you heal faster."

"Never mind that. Who was that with England?"

"I don't know. Why do you even care anyway? That guy almost blew up the ship."

"… I don't know," answered Iceland. "There was something about him."

"Well whatever it is, it can wait. You need to get some rest. England will probably attack again tomorrow and it'll be hard to fight back if you're tired."

Norway closed the medical kit next to them and stood up from the bed. He quietly walked out of the room, closing it behind him and letting Iceland rest.

But the Icelandic teen was hardly sleepy.

Suddenly, the sounds of footsteps echoed rapidly through the hallway. Iceland rose from his bed and looked at his door. It was far too late for anyone to be up and doing something. He slipped out of the covers and went over to the door. Slowly he opened it and he saw a shadowy figure wiz right past him.

That person wasn't a resident of the ship. Iceland knew that immediately and he went out his door to follow. Luckily he knew every corner of his ship so all he had to do was follow the sounds of the footsteps.

Without warning, they came to a stop and Iceland snuck his head around the corner of the hallway. At the end, a doorway was wide open and he slowly crept up to it and peaked inside. There inside, he saw that elegant figure from before and he couldn't help but blush slightly when he saw him.

Iceland had unknowingly stepped into the room and Hong Kong instantly noticed him and turned around. The Asian got into a fighting stance, expecting to engage in another fight.

"Wait," Iceland exclaimed. "I don't want to fight."

Hong Kong raised in eyebrow. "Why are you here then?"

"I followed you after I heard you in the ship. Why are you here?"

"England ordered me to…"

"How do you know him?"

"… He's my guardian… after he took me away from my brother and family."

"Why would you obey such a person? That must be horrible."

"It is but why do you care?"

"Because I can sympathize with you. He's doing such a horrible thing to my people by fighting in this war… And there's something about you that just draws me to your presence…"

Hong Kong titled his head slightly in confusion. "What do you want from me?"

Iceland blushed slightly as he thought about his answer. "I want… you… to stay with me." Hong Kong just stared at the Icelandic nation for the longest time. "Think about it, we can learn more about each other and you can escape from England," he reasoned.

Hong Kong opened his mouth to speak, slowly beginning to mouth something. "Hell no."

Iceland was speechless as his offer was completely crushed. "Wha-"

"Why in the world would I stay with a complete stranger and the people I love are back in Asia so I have no intention of staying here."

Hong Kong took out a match from his pocket and threw it behind him. The match landed on a fuse and the fire began to crackle as it burned down to an array of explosives and fireworks. Hong Kong ran toward Iceland and leaped over the nation and slipped out of sight.

Iceland was still in shock from his rejection and didn't notice as the fuse burnt down to the explosives. Instantly, the sound of fireworks raced through the ship as the bright and colorful explosives went off and filled the ship in fire.

As quick as the explosion came, it disappeared, leaving the ship in a smoldering pile of wreckage and rubble. Iceland emptily lied against a wooden raft as he stared into the sky. "… I make decisions too rashly…"

Actual History:

The Icelandic war against England, otherwise known as the Cod Wars took place in the North Atlantic Sea. Icelanders relied heavily on fishing as their main source of economy and England invaded their waters. The war didn't last long; from September 1 to November 12, 1958. Not a very long war. The reason for Hong Kong's appearance is during this time, Hong Kong was still under England's rule so it only makes sense by association that he would participate in the war. However, this is only the first of the three Cod Wars that actually happen.

Disclaimer: Don't own Hetalia

A/n: Well I hope you readers enjoyed that. This is actually a dare fic where I didn't really want to write it but I had the idea in my head so I hope it turned out well.