Why yes. I'm well aware that I haven't updated my other few fanfics. I should bring in an update in a week or two. Sorry about that, since school's being bogging me all day and night. I barely have time to relax, nowadays. I wrote this oneshot in school while I wasn't paying attention to the teacher, so it's short. But meh. Hope you guys enjoy~
Nothing would beat the exhilarating surge of joy within the heart of the man, gazing at the little white specks drifting weightlessly down, forming a sheet of white on the landscape, covering almost every single thing in sight. Every little detail, he had spotted with his piercing blue eyes.
He stretched his ungloved hand out, watching as the little powders of snow landed on his hand or slipped through his fingers. He watched as the snow slowly melted on his warmer hand, forming a little puddle of moisture on his palm.
Snow was pure white by nature. Just like the namesake of its colour, it was pure. The man frowned a little, breaking his expressionless mask. He clenched his fisted, dropping his previously outstretched hand to his side as flashes of memories replayed in his mind, triggered by his originally peaceful thought train.
One thing that he had learnt from the long course of his life was that no matter how pure something seemed to be, it would easily be tainted. He remembered the little traces of black, the ashes from the volcanoes, or perhaps the telltale signs of industrialization.
He remembered the snow from his days a long time ago, back in the 8th Century, the renowned Viking Ages. It was not always white. It was occasionally red, red from the blood seeping through the corpses, or from the splay of blood from a new gash. Wool and fur could keep the Vikings warm, but it gave little protection against the axes and the spears commonly wielded then.
He remembered the times he fought with the Danes and the Swedes, collectively known as Vikings. The English had treated them with scorn. He remembered the times when he got miffed at being called barbaric. After all, he was an honest trader. Occasionally.
But the Danes and the Swedes were not always on his side. He felt suffocated as the two pressured each other, or when they fought. He hated it, and sought to escape, which he eventually did. By then, he knew that the only company he had was the winter colds and the same white powdered rain.
He remembered the time where the foreigners were the amongst people in his land, invaded by force. He fought hard, but failed to push the Germans back. Yet, he took it with pride, for resisting the invasion a lot longer than the neighbouring Danes. Winter was not an ally then, neither was the cold.
Yet, he thought about his troops in the country. His trademark. The Norwegian Ski Troops. They were a huge trouble against the Swedes in the Napoleonic Wars. That he had fondly remembered. Every single soldier must be trained in ski combat. Why not make the snow useful?
There were too many issues in the modern times. He wondered if he could catch up at times. After all, he had lived too long, seen too much. But alas, he would not give up. Just like his country stayed strong.
Alt for Norge.
I told you it's short! Anyway, I hope you guys would read and review! It might inspire me to write more and update faster, ya know? xD
Anyway, that's for reading!
Cheers,
Stygian Vedrfolnir