Author's note: Tears Thursday request (brattyteenagewerewolf): « can i request denmark and iceland, June 17th 1944 when Iceland officially became independent from Denmark? »
Iceland, 1944
They sit side by side in the room. Emil has seen Christen do this before, with Lukas: side by side, before the window, knees so close they could touch if either men moved their leg yet neither that day had. And if Emil had felt helpless watching his brother that day, simply standing abruptly and leaving, then he feels double that now as it's his turn.
Christen's hands ball around the fabric of his pants, the man clearly feeling… something. The something wasn't clear, in and of itself, but that he was feeling it, that it was tearing him up inside, was clear. Sometimes he breathes in deeply, or sits up straighter as if to speak; yet the Dane never says a word, just casts sideways glances towards Emil who never meets his gaze.
Out the window there's a beautiful view of the lake; that must have been what Lukas had so admiringly stared at that day, long ago. And Emil wants to stare too, just as hard, just as carelessly, but in moments like these he remembers that he's not his brother, that he is part Norwegian but that the Dane too has marked him and shaped him, not just as a country but as a boy who todays becomes his own man.
This time he can't take it, cutting off Christen's attempts at words with his own. "Thankyou," Emil gets out as one, awkward word, not sure what to say after that. For a long time the Dane makes no noise to reciprocate but when the Icelandic nation (oh God he was his own nation now) looks up he sees Christen crying silently, a look of infinite pride plastered across his face.
The man nods before pulling Emil to him for a fierce hug. Emil wants to cry too but can't, and so lets Christen gasp and moan for both of them.