The Taste of Snow
A Finland x Hungary fanfiction
Recommended listening: Glósóli by Sigur Rós
See ending for extra notes
I.
The forest glade is fresh, untouched – a clear stream trickles through it, and swathes of long grass speckled with Lilies of the Valley surround it. Among this perfection sits a little boy.
Finland looks up as he hears a rustle directly in front of him, before a quick figure in green leaps into the clearing, a bow across his shoulder and messy brown hair tied back.
"Erzsébet!" he cries happily, scrambling to his feet, almost tripping over the long hem of his fur cloak in his eagerness. The older nation claps him on the shoulder in a manly greeting in return. Tino is a little disappointed that he didn't get a hug; but Erzi is growing older now – taller and slimmer, the baby fat vanishing from his face, leaving a sharp chin and a strong nose – so Tino supposes he doesn't care for childish embraces anymore.
"Tino, my little friend! How are you?" Erzi kneels at the stream to take a long, cool drink, while Tino settles back in the grass, cross-legged and smiling. As the Hungarian nation leans forward, a lock of wavy hair falls across his forehead, and he brushes it away with a graceful flick of his wrist. After gulping the water, he sits back beside Tino and his eyes light up with excitement as he asks, "Any battle news?"
"Well, Mr Sweden gets closer every day, but otherwise nothing." Tino plucks a few of the long-stemmed flowers, twisting them idly between his soft, chubby fingers. "You really do like battles, don't you, Erzi?"
"I have to!" comes the indignant reply. "Every day it's either the Ottoman Empire or those damned Teutonic Knights after me! The only breaks I get are helping Lithuania pull arrows out of his legs and coming to see you."
Erzi throws himself onto his back with an exaggerated sigh. "You're so lucky, living this far north," he grumbles. "No idiots to harass you."
"Lucky! Mr Sweden terrifies me!" squeaks Tino. "You're not scared of anyone, Erzi," he adds with admiration, holding an unblemished flower up to a shaft of golden sunlight. It almost shines, just like the light on the water and the excited fire in Erzi's long-lashed green eyes. A little shyly, he holds the flower out to his companion. "Let me put this in your hair?" he offers with a timid smile.
"Aw, Tino, you're too sweet." Erzi sits up and tilts his head, letting Tino tuck the flower behind his ear. Once satisfied with the placement, the little Finn leans back
"You look lovely, Erzi, look in the water!" Erzi peers at his reflection and chuckled good-naturedly.
"It's a bit girly, don't you think?" But he leaves it in, much to Tino's happiness. In fact, from the way he keeps glancing back at his image in the water, Tino thinks he rather likes it.
Once he settles back down, Erzi shoots Tino a sidelong glance – a thoughtful look that instantly piques Tino's curiosity. But before he can ask, Erzi says, "Stay still."
Then he leans forward, places a hand on Tino's shoulder, and presses their lips together.
Erzi's are chapped but warm, and taste faintly smoky – exotic and utterly new. Tino's short cry of surprise is muffled as Erzi's lips move over his for a second, and he goes cross-eyes as he stares at his companion, frozen in shock, even though Erzi's own eyes are closed.
Then it is over. Erzi pulls back and wipes his mouth with a cheeky grin.
"You taste like snow." He brushes down his rough shirt as though nothing of significance has happened – all the while Tino still stares at him, big violet eyes wide – and gently pulls the flower out of his hair. "Can you make me a garland?" he asks, all sweetness.
"O-Of course!" Tino takes back the flower and picks another, piercing the stem with his stubby fingernail. He reddens a little, thinking about snow.
"Thank you, Erzi," he mumbles tentatively. He gets a slap on the back and an affectionate laugh in return.
II.
She still loves to slap people on the back, Finland thinks fondly, watching Hungary in conversation with Poland. She hasn't changed much, aside from of course, her hair being far longer.
The grace with which she walks is the same, the way she laughs. She still fights with Prussia and gives Lithuania advice. Her eyes still shine. And she still wears flowers in her hair.
"Erzi?" Once she has finished with her northern neighbour, Tino taps her on the shoulder with a small smile. She spins around, and as expected, thwacks him on the back as they hug.
"I remember something funny today." He ducks his head a little, cheeks reddening a little. "Remember when you kissed me that time when we were young?"
Erzi laughs, brushing back that one lock of hair that seems, to Tino at least, to never get pulled back. Today her hair is in a bun, perfectly businesslike to match her suit, but Tino can still see the child with the short ponytail, patched shirt and breeches.
"Of course I remember! You were so cute afterwards, blushing and stammering!" She reaches up to pinch his cheek playfully.
"You did tell me my lips tasted like snow!" he protests, but he is laughing too. Suddenly the fingers pulling his cheek stop, and rest against his skin. A sense of déjà vu engulfs him as, before he can ask what she's thinking, she murmurs, "Stay still."
Then they are kissing again. A little more knowledgeable this time, Tino loops his arms around her waist and closes his eyes with a small, happy sigh.
When she draws back, she doesn't wipe her mouth as she did all those years ago. But she grins. "You still taste like snow," she tells him. "But I can definitely taste vodka in there too!"
Tino has to laugh at that. "I don't have any special plans for dinner," he says hopefully. "If you're not busy of course, would you like to…?"
"Of course!"
And really, what's the harm in having dinner with a woman you've known for so many hundred years? Maybe Tino fancies Erzsébet, just a little. But this can stay innocent.
They leave the hotel where the conference is being held arm-in-arm, and Tino smiles, thinking about snow.
1) Hungary is of course a girl in the first part, but everyone thinks she's a boy, so Tino would refer to her as 'he'. Poor Tino, not clocking that Erzsébet is a female name.
2) I am being purposely vague about the time period of Part I. As far as I know, the Swedish rule over Finland began in the mid-1200s, so it is before that time.
3) This is a new style I'm testing out here, and one I'm planning to write fics with for all the Nordics, each with a woman, and perhaps some inter-Nordic love.
4) I do not own the cover image - it belongs to trudiitti on deviantart, and all kudos rightfully goes to them.
Reviews are always appreciated.
