I really love stories of the nations interacting with their own people. I haven't seen one for Iceland yet, so I decided to try writing one. I have absolutely no idea what to call this, so as much as I hate to do it, this will remain untitled until further notice (aka: please someone give me title ideas).

EDIT: Title has been changed! Thank you everyone for the suggestions! Title suggested by a guest reviewer.

Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia.

Iceland had been wandering Reykjavik for maybe thirty minutes, watching his people go about their business, when he heard the sniffling. He turned from the café he'd about to enter and saw a small child, maybe five or six years old. She looked around nervously, eyes red and tears streaming down her face. Iceland stepped over to her and knelt down.

"Hello," he said softly, trying not to scare her. Hey, she's a kid, and one of his people, for that matter. "What's wrong? Are you lost?" Sniffling, the little girl nodded. "I'm Eríkur. What's your name?"

The girl wiped at her eyes. "Lóa."

Iceland smiled gently. What? He could smile. "Well, Lóa, where did you last see your parents?"

Lóa's lip trembled. "I-I don't know. I was with my mom and she was holding my hand but I let go and I don't –" She began crying outright. "I didn't move, like I was told. I stayed right here, but she hasn't found me!"

Iceland brushed Lóa's hair behind her ear. "You did the right thing. Your mom's very worried about you." He stood up and held out a hand. "Let's go find her, shall we?"

Lóa grabbed onto his hand. Iceland expanded his awareness; he could feel every single one of his people, his children. Using Lóa's presence as a guide, he focused on finding her mother. There – not too far away. Sunna was her name. Twenty-nine years old, married to Óskar, who was in the coast guard –

Iceland forced himself back into his own mind before he got too lost in his people. He smiled down at Lóa and began walking. He cautiously expanded his awareness again to find Sunna, and only Sunna.

"Mister, how are we going to find my mom if we don't know where she is?" Lóa asked, hiccupping.

Iceland glanced down at her. "Magic." He regretted saying that right after. That's something that Norway would have said. Hopefully Norway would never find out; he'd never let it go.

Lóa's face screwed up in a confused pout. "Nuh-uh. Magic isn't real."

"Yes it is," Iceland said lightly, mentally cursing Norway for influencing him. "I can find anyone anywhere." He felt Sunna's presence around a corner. "And I say that your mom is at this next turn."

Hope and disbelief showed on Lóa's face. "Really?"

Iceland glanced down at her with a slight grin. "Really."

And, lo and behold, as soon as they turned the corner, Lóa caught sight of her mother, who was frantically asking people if they'd seen her daughter. Iceland watched in satisfaction and love as the two reunited. His work was done.

Sunna looked over and saw him. Iceland realized with a start that she recognized him – that she knew who, or rather what, he was. He nodded at her and walked away, hands in his pockets. No need to cause a scene.

He felt Sunna's loyalty surge. Iceland hid a smile.