A/N: NetIce! I do believe I'm the first to write for this pairing. It's kind of exciting, you know? I have free reign! :D But seriously, this may become my new OTP.
So yea... This takes place somewhat canonically. But before all this stuff involving the UK, Netherlands, and Iceland. (The banking crisis. Look it up if you don't know what I'm talking about. But I do actually have a fic idea about it... :P)
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. I'm just sad I would have to explain that to you at this point.
The myriad of entrancing colors swam lazily across the pitch black sky. There were so many different shades and tints, all swirling together to create Aurora Borealis, the Northern Lights.
Iceland sat there beneath the stars, not moving, not smiling, not talking with anyone. Just… sitting there. Alone. He was always alone. Not that he minded or anything. A loud outburst made him start from his reverie and announced the arrival of the bane of his existence.
"Hey, hey, what are you doing, sitting out here by yourself again? What the hell is that?" Mr. Puffin said, coming down to land on Iceland's shoulder, shaking out a few stray feathers onto the boy.
Iceland sighed collectedly and brushed the feathers off his brown jacket. Choosing not to answer his bird, he settled for gazing out at the ocean, the shining ocean that completely surrounded and isolated his diminutive island nation.
"You know, if you're really so lonely…" the bird began slowly, turning his head to look slyly at Iceland from the corner of his eye. Iceland scowled at him.
"No."
"But-"
"No. And I'm not lonely."
"Ha! Sure you're not," Mr. Puffin scoffed, his harsh voice grating in both the nation's ears and on his nerves.
"Shut up. I'm not starting any colonies, especially not with you." He glared pointedly at the bird. Mr. Puffin flapped his wings indignantly but didn't say anything else.
Iceland cast his gaze back out at the ocean, enjoying the current state of silence. The truth was, though he didn't mind being alone, at times he did get… lonely. He hardly ever saw Norway anymore, the fellow Nordic being busy with something or another in his own home. Whenever he did manage to get some time to see his brother, the other was always with Denmark, and there was honestly only so much Iceland could take of the Dane at a time. As for Sweden and Finland, well… they were wrapped up in their own little world.
Feeling the chill of the ground finally set into his clothes, Iceland stood up stiffly and stretched his aching muscles. Mr. Puffin took off once again and began to flutter excitedly about his head.
"About time we went inside! It's damn cold out here."
Iceland started to walk across towards the direction of his house, but then stopped.
"Do you see…" he said, but then trailed off.
"Hmn? See what?" Mr. Puffin asked intrusively.
Iceland didn't reply, but pointed to the edge of a nearby cliff a few meters away.
"Isn't that the Netherlands?"
Mr. Puffin peered to where the nation was pointing.
"Aw yea, it is! The hell is he doing here?"
Iceland shrugged, then began to stride over to the other man.
"Where're you going? Wait for me!" The bird quickly flew over and landed on his shoulder for a free ride, being lazier than he'd admit to be.
As they got closer, Iceland paused and weighed the situation for a moment. He really didn't know too much about the Netherlands, and he wasn't the type to go blindly marching into something. He eyed the nation, who was lying out on the grass, hands beneath his head as he gazed up at the sky. Iceland was sure the other wasn't aware of their presence, seeing as he hadn't turned his face towards them at their approach.
Well… He didn't seem dangerous, at least at the moment. Iceland decided it was safe to advance. His tall white boots rustled the grass as he walked, and soon he stood right above the other.
"… Hello," he said, not knowing quite else what to say.
The Netherlands looked back up at him, green eyes unreadable from this angle.
"Hello."
Iceland shuffled his feet a bit, then settled for the obvious question.
"What are you doing here? … In my home?"
Netherlands held his even expression and moved his shoulders in a slow shrug. Iceland scowled, now slightly peeved.
"Well if you don't mind, I was about to go inside, and I think it'd be best if you left."
"Really."
"Yes."
Netherlands turned his gaze from Iceland's face back to the night sky.
"No…" he said unhurriedly. "I think I'll stay out here a bit longer."
Iceland stood there, now bristling with silent rage. My home!
Mr. Puffin rumbled loudly in his right ear.
"Let me at 'im!" the bird growled. He started to take flight from the Iceland's shoulder, but the latter held him down. "Rrr- Get off'a me!" He pecked the boy's hand viciously with his orange beak.
"Stop it you idiot!" Iceland muttered heatedly. "You're just making things worse." The puffin stopped at once and turned his head deliberately to eye him, an offended expression on his face.
"Eh? I can see when I'm not wanted. But don't come crying to me when that guy does something to you!" With that, he unceremoniously took off, making sure to hit Iceland in the face with his wing as he did so.
Iceland turned back to look at the Netherlands. He felt embarrassment twist his stomach when he realized the other had been patiently watching the entire exchange.
"He always like that?" Netherlands asked. Iceland nodded. "Hmn… My rabbit isn't like that. Actually, I dunno if he can talk either…" He trailed off, his face becoming expressionless once more.
This was the most Iceland had ever heard the tall, normally so reticent, nation speak.
"You… have a rabbit?" he asked, not knowing quite else what to say.
"Mn."
"…"
Iceland slowly sat beside him. The Netherlands, still lying down, gave him a quick side-glance before returning his gaze to the stars. For a few moments the two of them remained that way, not speaking, not looking at each other, not doing anything. Just… sitting there. Together.
"It's quite pretty out tonight."
Iceland started as he was once again brought out of his musings; not by an obnoxious puffin this time, but by the Netherlands. He looked down at the man perplexedly, not really comprehending his words. Netherlands saw his confusion and took one hand out from behind his head to point up at the sky.
"The Northern Lights. They're quite pretty."
"I suppose so," Iceland said impassively. "You do get to see them quite a lot up here. And in- Hvað?" He let out a surprised intake of breath as the Netherlands grabbed his arm, pulling him down to lie on his back.
Iceland looked incredulously at the man now directly next to him.
"The hell did you do that for?"
"You can see them much better from this angle," the Netherlands said assertively, as though that explanation completely covered all questions to be asked.
Iceland suddenly realized his extreme proximity to the man. To anyone passing by, it would look like two lovers, wrapped in each other's embrace beneath the stars. His face began to heat up, and he gritted his teeth.
"Something wrong?" The Netherlands turned to him, something in his deep green eyes almost akin to… concern? No, it couldn't be that!
"Ég er-" Iceland began, then stopped. "Damn it!" He pounded a fist repeatedly into his palm. Damn it damn it damn it damn this guy damn him damn- huh? Another hand, warm and vastly strong, enclosed his fist, preventing it from hitting him again. He looked up to see the Netherlands watching him carefully, spiky light brown hair flashing dully in the light from the Aurora.
"What are you doing?"
"I… I… I don't like it when I slip up and use my own language…"
"But why?" The Netherlands looked genuinely puzzled.
"It's just so complex and hard for others to understand. It's better if I speak in English..."
"Icelandic is a beautiful language." Iceland looked at him skeptically as he went on. "You shouldn't be ashamed of speaking it. English isn't the only tongue in this world."
"You truly think that?" Iceland asked, gazing back at him. Why do I care anyways? I hardly know him. But he waited with a foreign kind of anxiety for the nation's reply.
"Ja."
Iceland smiled.
"Já," he said in a slight teasing tone, amending the Dutchman's word with his own, inflecting the "ah" to the Icelandic "ow" sound. The Netherlands' lips twitched in what might have been a smile.
"Oh, I'm sorry, já," he replied sarcastically, correcting his pronunciation.
"That's better," Iceland said in a smug tone.
The two of them fell back into silence. But now, as they lay side by side under the sky, it was a companionable silence, not uncomfortable or tense. Iceland could feel himself pressed against the other man's muscular frame, but somehow it wasn't bothering him. This is… nice. The ground isn't nearly so cold with someone there beside you.
"You know…" he began haltingly. Netherlands turned his head slightly to show that he was listening. "I have always loved the Northern Lights. They… show me the colors that normally I don't see here in my home. I sometimes feel that I'm so… colorless. I mean, look at my hair!" He threaded a piece of his bleached mop between his fingers. "It's as white as the snow." The Netherlands turned and regarded him incredulously.
"Colorless? You must be blind. Open your eyes! In your home, I've seen the red fire of volcanoes. I've seen the Blue Lagoon and rolling green hills. I've seen wonderful orange and yellow poppies. And-" Here he paused. Iceland gazed at him, entranced by his words. "And I've seen the beautiful violet of your eyes."
Did- did he really just say that? Iceland lay there, stunned.
"I should go," Netherlands said, abruptly standing up. He seemed flustered.
"W-wait!" Iceland said, quickly standing up as well and grabbing the other man's arm.
"No, I should, it's getting late… Here." A bouquet of purple Dutch tulips was thrust into his arms.
"But I-" He was caught off guard as the Netherlands unexpectedly bent down and kissed him on the cheek.
"Just… take them, ok?" the nation said, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Ah… ok…"
"I'll see you around." The Netherlands began to walk away.
Iceland stood there stock still for a full minute before he found his voice.
"Maybe… maybe you can come and visit my home again sometime!" he called after the tall man. Netherlands stopped and turned back to face him. Iceland smiled hesitantly at him. After a minute, the Netherlands fleetingly returned it.
Iceland watched until he disappeared out of sight, his long, fluttering blue-and-white striped scarf the last thing to leave his vision. A flap of feathers from above heralded the return of his ever-faithful bird.
"Well? How'd it go? That guy give you any trouble? If he did, you know I could eat that rabbit of his in one gulp."
Iceland sighed and absent-mindedly stroked Mr. Puffin's smooth black feathers, wondering how he ended up with such an asinine bird.
Still… I wonder if I'll ever see the Netherlands again. Bringing the flowers up to his nose, he took a deep sniff.
UWAHHHH THEY'RE SO CUTE. *huggles character plushies* ^^'
But yup. Don't use the name Holland, so at some times, "the Netherlands" gets a little off-sounding, and I just take off the "the". Ain't I a daredevil.
FFFFFFFFFFFFF- Mr. Puffin is incredibly fun to write. He should have his own show! "The Mr. Puffin Show." NO! His own country. "Mr. Puffinland". ... Hey, it could happen!
Next Stop: NetIce visit the Icelandic Ph*llic Museum... and the Dutch Sex Museum. *is shot* TUNE IT NEXT TIME GAIZ! *is shot again*