CCP: I am supposed to be sleeping but I felt like writing! I noticed a lotta Iceland/Denmark stuff and I really love it! 33 I was inspired to write this fic and it is not oneshot this time! Yeah so, enjoy~ The OCs, Greenland and Faroes, do belong to me.

Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of these countries, unfortunately.


With Resilience

He didn't even had enough time to say goodbye. A thousand of minutes would even not be enough to express his sorrow to Norway's departure. The last glimpse of him was his back, facing him, yet moving further and further away. His last words were: "Take care of them."

Denmark swore he heard an 'or else' part, but he was too distraught to think clearly. He spent quite a few hours sobbing, yet cursing to maintain the prestige of being a Viking. He was not supposed to cry - no, not like this. The nation sat on his seat, his head hung low, his vigor diminished as his lips quivered slightly. Norway, whom he loves so dearly, was with Sweden. The bastard Sweden. How he wished to seize his throat and just scream.

His beloved Norway. It was his no more, and perhaps, was never his from the beginning. He noticed, starting from the time they first shared a bed together. Such feverish kisses had a weaker meaning than he thought. With every delicate touch and rough movement, there was this sense of passion he felt between them. To think that Sweden will recieve such treatment sickened him.

Hastily, he wiped a tear with his sleeve ruefully. His back was hunched over with his arms resting on his thigh. He sat, his eyes expressing mere nothingness as he stared at the empty space. Right, he was left with three children. The only remnants that would truly remind him of Norway.

The oldest actually a girl of a very small stature with curly orange hair, deep azure eyes, and livid lips. Her name is Faroe Islands but she insisted everyone to just call her 'Faroes'. Out of the three, she is sweet, naive in so many angles, yet sincere and very caring. She always giggled at his way as her bright eyes laughed with her sing-song voice. Though he had this habit of forgetting her existence, for she was in her teen years but is too small to be notable, but he loved her all the same.

Second to oldest is Iceland. A mysterious teen who reminded him the most of Norway. His expression was always listless as his lips would never utter so many words. He would walk around but cling on to Norway, his eyes so pleading around him. Yet this boy would avoid him all the time. Denmark would try to reach out to him but he would walk away. It saddened him to see this.

The youngest is a slightly plump Greenland. His hair, fair as Iceland, and his eyes were deep green like the algae of the sea. In happier times, he would joke about this Greenlander about the roundness of his face, but he would always stop once he realize that the little one can be a tad frightening. Nevertheless, he loved this one as well because, unlike Iceland, he always has this happier expression on. It was a little more than Iceland's neutral and dull face but less than Faroes' cheeky beams and her jovial complexion.

All he could do was reminisce. That and figure out a better way to get closer to the three nations under his household. He really did feel like a divorced spouse, in custody of these little ones. The blond heaved a sigh once he realized that Norway would never forgive him for wasting time, moping like this. He noted that Norway did not wish to leave these three and he figured that his lost lover did not trust him as much.

The Dane smiled wryly at himself at this thought. He ran his fingers through his spiked hair and then kept his gaze on the ground as those strands fell to his forehead. He was a father. He wanted to prove that fathers can work just as well as mothers. Huh.

Like a Christmas tree in Finland's house, Denmark brightened up with this optimistic enthusiasm that rushed through his veins. That's right, he's going to play 'mama' and he was confident that he will be so great that Norway will be running back, pleading for his old position. A silly grin curved on his lips, yet its radiance was not as strong as its full glory. He still missed Norway. His heart still yearned for his presence in the household, but brooding will not do a thing. Though it still shattered his heart, it is what it is.

Denmark skidded over to the kitchen and then grabbed Norway's apron that hung on the wall. Hastily, yet clumsily, he wrapped it around his waist and tied it behind his back. Stumbling as he did, the Dane opened several cabinets and drawers to find the necessary items to make porridge for the little ones. He made a ruckus because his strong fingers reached for whatever stuck out in the pots and pans cabinet. He stopped immediately after he realized that it is still morning and the kids were still asleep.

Frowning as he stood up, he warily wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. Ironic, how he could raid villages, steal food and women, or hack people's heads off without much of a sweat, and yet scavenging in the kitchen was enough to wear him out? Certainly, it sounded ridiculous in his head. He shrugged it off with an excuse that it was the weather. After being reminded of the children, he quickly darted through the hall to visit them in their slumber.

With a strong force, he opened the door to see the three angels sleeping on a large bed. Their innocence radiated the room with their soft breathing. Faroes was sleeping on the side, Greenland in the middle, and Iceland on the other side. A smile rushed on his lips after seeing this immaculate scene - they might as well be as cute as Norway sleeping soundly in a cold morning with most of his clothes on. Gracefully, he walked in to examine the three. He knelt down beside the bed on the side where Iceland was the closest to him. His elbows rested on the bed and he began to admire these three.

They were certainly a gift from God. They looked so adorable, sleeping together like this.

He looked to the side and then noticed a parchment underneath the lamp. Carefully, he pulled it out from its place and then began reading it. It was addressed to these three from Norway. It read:

Dear Faroes, Iceland, and Greenland,

I will be away and I will stay at Sweden's house. I do not know if I will visit often but I will try my best. Please remain healthy and do not fight with each other, especially you Greenland. Don't start any trouble and don't give Denmark too much of a hard time because he is going to watch over all of you. If you need anything, ask Denmark and he will give it to you. If you are fed up, declare independence.

With love,

Norway

He folded it up where it was creased and then chuckled. His beloved Norway really knew how to write jokes but can still remain cute as ever. He placed it back, looking at it no more, and then took a moment to consider what Norway really meant. They... wouldn't delcare independence, would they? Would they really try?

Denmark looked over his shoulder and then grabbed a chair. He sat and then merely waited with a half-hearted smile. He has lost a lot already. With every bead symbolizing as something he has lost, he can make quite a few necklaces and bracelets. He remembered their backs turned, just like Norway's. Their faces were grim, angry, or frightened. Most of them were lost over Denmark's violent temper and eagerness to get into wars. He wagered and lost, but he was persuaded that he will not lose these three.

They continued to sleep until Iceland made a pout and squirmed a little.

No, not these three. Anything but them.


Notes: This takes place directly of the dissolve of Norway-Denmark. Norway was handed over to Sweden and Denmark keeps Iceland, Greenland, and Faroe Islands as colonies.

*Greenland is a bit 'scary' in this case because vikings thought this land was cursed. Icelanders and Norwegian vikings would go there but never return, for they most likely died because of the mini-ice age. Yeah, my headcannon.

CCP: Thanks guys for reading! This will be a mini-series. Not so much. Holler if you love this?