Author's Note: Another historical WW2-centered fic! There's a lot of historical notes we gotta get through, so bare with me! Thankfully, it's the Nordics, so...
Denmark wasn't considered an importance in the war, and was Neutral, and Germany didn't see the point in taking it over. However, they found a strategic position in Norway, and knew England and France were allies with Norway and were waiting for an invasion. So, they invaded Denmark to get the British and French away from Norway. The fight wasn't very long; Denmark surrendered in a few hours. The Nazis treated the Danish quite well, even keeping their Jewish population in tact. They felt safe entrusting the nation to the Danes, as they were Aryan blonde. However, taking over Denmark also meant the Germans were free to do as they liked with the nations Denmark owned-Faroe Islands, Iceland, and Greenland, which made the rest of the world nervous. Around 1943, the Germans grew threatened as their grasp on the world was slipping and started mistreating the Danes, though never to the levels as some other countries faced, such as Poland.
Norway was prepared for an enemy invasion, but a bad storm prevented the British from sending out a warning to Norway that the Germans were coming, and Norway too ended up surrendering without much of a fight. Much like Denmark, they were Neutral and were mainly ignored by the Germans, although various resistance fighters met grisly ends. Food shortages were also common due to rationing by the Germans, and the Norwegians ended up growing plants and raising animals in their outhouses and sheds. Norwegian resistance fighters are also infamous for slipping a powerful laxative into canned sardines going out to German troops. Need I say more?
Iceland was also Neutral, and actually was intrigued by the idea of being under German rule. When Denmark was invaded, the Germans looked to Iceland next, and in fear, the British demanded Iceland to join the Allies several times for protection. Iceland restated their neutrality, and eventually the British just invaded Iceland 'for their own protection'. In 1941, however, owning Iceland ended up being too big of a chore and England handed ownership off to the then-neutral America, who Iceland reluctantly traded with. In 1945, Iceland grew sick of being owned and declared their independence from Denmark, becoming their own country.
Oh boy...Finland. Is there even anyone out here who doesn't get this? The fic is referencing the Winter War, fought between Russia and Finland in 1939-1940. The Finnish were...determined. There are even records of Finns freezing killed Russian soldiers and leaving them out on the battlefield as a warning to remaining Russian soldiers. Despite joining the Axis, this was Finland's only major contribution to the war.
Sweden was also seen as a strategic location, as a pathway between Russia and Western Europe. Despite their neutrality, they traded with Finland extensively and wanted to rescue them from hostile takeover if one were to occur. They also didn't contribute significantly to the war, other than being a stepping stone for the Nazis.
When the UN was formed in 1945, both Denmark and Norway were founding members. Norway swore after what happened in WW2 they would never remain neutral in world matters again, as they had been neutral in every conflict up until then. Finland wasn't allowed to join the UN until 1955 since it collaborated with the Axis Powers, and both Sweden and Iceland joined a year later, in 1946.
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September 2nd, 1945
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Mathias couldn't help but to feel his eyes as they filled up with tears. They had done it, they had survived, had endured the six years of torture the Axis put them up to, and they had survived in one piece. Not just his friends, but his other allies, who were currently in New York, filling out a peace treaty.
"Hey, look, he's crying." Lukas announced to the others, pointing at the Dane.
"Leave him alone. It's a special moment for all of us. He's allowed to cry if he wants." Emil scolded, finding a broken shotgun on the ground and tossing it into the street nearby.
"I'm sorry, guys. It's just, think of everything we sacrificed to see this day." Mathias started, pulling Lukas and Emil into his arms.
"Look what I got!" Tino announced happily, running out of one of England's many government buildings. "The British government gave us these journals so we can write about everything we experienced during the war." He handed the first two to Mathias and Lukas, respectively. "Since you two have been selected to be some of the first nations in the United Nations, I think it's only fair you start first."
"United Nations?" Emil questioned. "What's that?"
"It'll be a worldwide organization of countries whose goal is to prevent something like this from ever happening a third time." Berwald stated, coming out of the building next.
"All right!" Mathias grinned and flipped open his notebook, already picturing what he'd write down. An epic tale of espionage, treachery, and immigration, for sure! "I'm a founding nation for something!"
"We should go inside and continue talking, it's freezing out here." Tino suggested, shivering in his thin coat. The others agreed and hurried inside the building, where several of the Allies were standing around, being helped by the British. The Nordics went to their own designated room and Mathias slammed his journal down on the podium the instant he entered.
"Come on, let's get this story started!" Emil handed him a pen, and he started scratching furiously.
"You're awfully excited to start," Berwald noticed.
"Of course! I might forget it all if I don't start writing!"
"Believe me, I don't think any of us will forget this for a long time," Lukas said at a soft tone.
"Well, we only have this room for an hour. Best get started." Emil suggested, and Mathias nodded.
"So, a year after war had officially been declared," The Dane started, his tone changing into a more serious one as he read.
#######
1940
#######
An invasion was coming. Denmark could feel it, sure as his bones, that Germany was coming for him. And why wouldn't he? Denmark's home laid on the coast, and despite being Neutral, he was a pivotal trading partner of both England and France. It was only a matter of waiting.
"Mathias! Aren't you worried?" A young girl ran up to the Dane, dressed in the usual European style of a patterned floral dress, knee-socks, and strappy shoes. This girl's family was well-off, as lacy gloves adorned her hands.
"Worried about what?" He asked her in a cheerful tone, as he truly was. He hadn't even put on his military uniform on that morning, and was instead clad in a cream-colored suit. "The invasion? No, I don't have time to worry about such things."
"But what if the Germans do to us what they did to the Polacks?" She asked, and Denmark's eyes widened at her speech.
"They won't. Trust me on this." He smiled and rubbed her platinum-blonde hair, but she continued to look at him doubtfully. "Where are you heading?"
"To the airport. Mother is afraid of us getting thrown into an internment camp when the Nazis get here, so she's buying my family seats on an airplane. We're flying to the United States." She said in a professional tone, and only then did Denmark notice not only the girl's embroidered suitcase being dragged behind her, but also a five-pointed star necklace peeking out of a slightly-unbuttoned compartment on it.
"I see. I wish you luck with that then!" He saluted her, and she winced and darted down the street, her suitcase's wheels loudly clacking on the sidewalk behind her. After seeing that, his smile faded slightly and he walked down the street, his hands in his pockets.
If his citizens were concerned, perhaps he should be more concerned as well, and empty his house of his three nations before Germany could take them over too.
Speaking of which, where were his nations?
He continued walking to the food market he was originally going to head to, acknowledging the friendly 'hellos' of several citizens as he walked by them. Despite that girl's obvious panic, most of the city seemed perfectly happy, and Denmark found a part of him wondering if perhaps the news was just a scam by the Germans to make the Danish panic and deplete their resources faster.
Denmark soon found the food market he wanted and headed inside, finding it busy and bustling with customers. He just needed to get a few items to make this super killer cheesecake for his dessert tonight. He found the recipe in an old Swedish cookbook that was apparently lying around in his attic, and instead of throwing it out, he found himself engrossed in it-and the most appetizing recipe at the time had been that cheesecake. So cheesecake it was.
He filled a shopping basket with sugar, eggs, milk, butter, and strawberries, then headed over to the cashier, only to bump right into a nervous-looking man with his head down.
"Oh, hey! You looking for something? I know this place like the back of my hand! Come on!" He greeted in his usual cheerful tone, only to have the man look up at him.
"The only thing we're looking for is your demise," The man spat in German, rushing off. Denmark simply stared after him, wondering who he was. He finally shrugged and continued to head towards the cashier, struggling to get the German man's piercing red eyes out of his mind.
########
"Little ones! I'm home!" Denmark happily announced the instant he got home, carrying his brown paper bag of groceries."Where are my siblings? Big Brother's here!"
Three younger nations leaned against the kitchen doorframe, staring at Denmark to see what he bought at the store.
"There you three are. Look, I got ingredients to make a Swedish cheesecake!" He laughed, pulling the ingredients out one by one.
"I love Swedish food!" Faroe Islands stated, gliding into the room on her boots. Denmark noticed a pair of white ice-skates were slung on her shoulder, which he found very odd, as it was nearing mid-April. All the snow was long gone.
"Can we help you make it?" Iceland asked, already turning the stove on. "Norway taught me a thing or two about baking, so I think I can do this."
"Come on, Brother Iceland, be more confident in your abilities!" Denmark's last sibling finally appeared, Greenland. She laughed. "None of Iceland's batch then!"
"It's a cake, not cookies."
"If you were so good at baking, you'd know you don't bake a cheesecake, you screwdriver!" Faroe Islands stuck her tongue out at her brother.
"Did you hear the news that the Germans are going to invade you?" Greenland asked in a worried tone, a dark green already rising in her cheeks. Whenever she got anxious, she also got nauseous. "What if they do to us what they did to the Poles?"
"We're not of strategic importance." Faroe Islands smiled awkwardly, trying to reassure herself.
"That's what you think," Iceland muttered under his breath, cracking an egg into the bowl.
"Hey now, what's all this depression? I wanted to make a nice, delicious cheesecake to share with you all after dinner tonight, and that's what we're going to do." Denmark scolded, pushing the three away from the counter and rolling up his sleeves. "Now, let's get started!"
"I want to crack the eggs!" Greenland instantly volunteered, ignoring the fact that Iceland had already cracked one into the porcelain bowl. She took the remaining six and cracked them three at a time into the bowl, then grabbed a wooden spoon and started mixing them rapidly.
"We should sing a song to make the time go faster!" Faroe Islands suggested, and before Denmark could stop her, she slid her ice skates off her shoulder and started grinding the blades into the dining table, making a scritch-scratch noise. "Like those fancy record players in America!" She laughed.
"I've seen those before." Iceland stated, dumping a cup of sugar and flour into the eggy mixture. "Here, I can sing." He cleared his throat and started singing a song in his own language, Icelandic, that none of the nations could decipher but it still relaxed them. Eventually Faroe Islands stopped scratching the table and just sat at her chair, happily listening to Iceland.
Denmark took the mix from his two siblings and poured it into a pan, then slid it into the icebox to chill for a few hours. Afterwards, he sighed and leaned against the door. "So, what shall we do now?" He asked once Iceland's song came to and end.
"I don't know, but I have to freshen up," Faroe Island slipped from the room to use the outhouse.
"I'm going to bed," Greenland and Iceland announced at once, and Denmark realized the 'midnight sun' in their homes was no doubt messing with their sleeping schedules here. Since he figured Faroe Island could entertain herself once she finished urinating, he put on his military uniform and headed out to discuss the current situation with his boss.
############
The next morning, Denmark slept in well into the morning, since his boss kept him up all night training for the German invasion. Denmark appreciated the thought, but he also wished someone would predict when the actual invasion would come so he could stockpile supplies instead of just guessing. He would not, could not, end up like Poland did.
However, he was awoken by the sound of the telephone ringing, so in a flash, he jumped out of bed and hurried into the living room, finding the black phone about to ring itself off the hook. He quickly picked it up and cleared his throat in an attempt to sound less groggy. "Hello? Who is this?"
"Am I speaking to Mathias?" The very serious, formal-sounding voice on the other line asked, and Denmark nearly bowed before he caught himself.
"Yes, you are." He answered, awaiting to hear the words of his boss, King Christian X. "Good news, I hope?" Oh, how he hoped.
"I'm afraid I have none. The Germans have started their invasion on your-on our shore. You have to get out there now and defend our territory!" His boss directed, and Denmark nodded gravely.
"But what about my-" The king hung up before he could finish his question, and he hung up as well with a sigh. He looked at the doorway and saw his siblings leaning against the doorframe again, looking concerned.
"Big Brother Denmark? What's wrong?" Greenland asked in a worried tone, her bluish-brown eyes shimmering.
"The Germans have invaded." He said simply, already buttoning himself into his military uniform. "You guys put your uniforms on too. We have to be ready to defend."
"I've never seen you so serious before!" Faroe Islands cried, looking distraught.
"Our uniforms? I haven't worn mine in over a decade. I don't even know if it still fits." Iceland shrugged.
"Make it fit! We have no time for this!" Denmark raced out the door. "I expect to see you all at the beach in fifteen minutes!"
"The Germans will kill him, and he knows it." Faroe Islands decided in a firm tone. "That's why he didn't say goodbye."
########
"Who knew you would surrender so easily? So...quickly?" Germany asked Denmark approximately two hours later in a shocked tone.
Despite the surprise of his invasion, the Danish soldiers fought long and hard, Denmark among them, but it didn't take long for them to see the writing on the wall and simply surrender where they were. Germany then took Denmark to his boss' headquarters and sat him down in an office chair and started questioning him.
"That's just the kind of guy I am," Denmark laughed, grinning his signature grin. There wasn't even blood on his uniform.
"Oh really? You think being invaded is funny? We didn't even want to invade you, but Boss didn't want you to come after us when we claim our real prize," Prussia stated, popping out from behind Germany.
"Your real prize? You mean Norway?" Denmark asked, having already called and warned Norway about it a few days before. He only hoped he had heeded his warning, as he had hung up awfully fast.
"No matter, we're here now, and you're going to have to accommodate us." Germany stated, looking professional yet stiff.
"Super! You want some doughnuts? It's awfully early, and I was going to go down to the store to get some doughnuts. I'd love to share some, since there's nobody else in my house left." He started to leave, but Prussia pushed him back down into the chair.
"Our reports state you have three other nations in your possession: Iceland, Greenland, and the Faroe Islands. Is this true?" The blond continued, now reading off a slip of paper. Denmark simply nodded.
"Yes, they're mine, and by extension, yours too. However, touch one hair on their heads and I'll bury you." A slight growl seemed to rise from the Dane's throat at this, but the Germans ignored it.
"Okay, you're free to go now." Germany nodded at Denmark, who instantly jumped up from his seat.
"I'd love some doughnuts! We're going to need all the energy we can get when we invade those Baltic States!" Prussia laughed. "I mean, one of them isn't even blond! The nerve!"
"Luckily, Denmark is blonde." Germany noticed, pulling on a strand of the Dane's spiky hair. He laughed awkwardly and continued walking to the bakery he promised he'd buy the doughnuts at. "If we ever have to leave in a rush, we can trust the country is safe in his hands."
"Yeah, it's the Nordic blessing! All of us look like this," Denmark explained, finally arriving at the bakery. Its name and wares were written in Danish, and the sickly-sweet smell of numerous tarts, cakes, pastries, and cookies poured from behind the closed door. The shop itself was a light pink and very tiny, and looked ready to be eaten by the taller buildings surrounding it. "Well, there's where the doughnuts are!"
He walked into the store, making the golden bell at the top of the door cling, and several people sucked their breaths in to see the imposing figures of Germany and Prussia standing there in their high-ranking black uniforms.
"Relax, they're with me! They wanted to try out doughnuts!" Denmark laughed, walking right up to the counter. "A dozen chocolate ones. The really big ones!" He grinned at the shopkeeper, who nervously wrote out their order and motioned to a tiny table near a large window, which the Dane and his German 'friends' took a seat at.
"Shouldn't be too long now!" He said breezily. "Good thing we got them now, who knows if they'll start rationing here too?"
"Not all countries are rationing," Germany said in a simple yet hard tone.
"Can't be too careful!"
A waiter-the son of the bakery's owner-brought over a giant box of their order, closed up. "Will that be anything else?" He asked in a polite voice, hiding his fear.
Smart boy, Denmark thought to himself.
"Got any coffee? It's been so hard to come by in these low-down European nations, I'm aching for some!" Prussia laughed, and the waiter nodded, then walked away.
"Well, let's eat up!" Denmark instantly dove into the doughnut box, purposely choosing the smallest-looking ones and leaving the best and biggest for the officers. Prussia started eating as well, but Germany kept looking around the shop, as if he had lost something. The silence was getting on the Dane's nerves, but he knew better than to just strike up a conversation with the high-ranking members of the Axis. Clearly, he had learned nothing from Poland.
"Big Brother Denmark!" Someone's yell rang out through the bakery, and he nearly spat out his food. No!
"We were concerned about you, so we looked all over town for you!" Faroe Islands elaborated, running over to their table. The three nations were dressed in their military uniforms, in various shades of brown. The girls' hair had been done up all formally, and Greenland had her parka hood up.
"Who knew you'd be here?" Iceland wondered, looking around. He found a table emptied of civilians and started sipping the lukewarm coffee left behind; half full.
"Yes, I'm here, now please leave." Denmark directed through gritted teeth. This was bad. He could handle the Germans by himself, but if they knew Denmark had very close relations to these countries, well...it was no secret Germany wanted to rule the world by any means necessary.
"What? But you bought doughnuts for us!" Greenland beamed. "How sweet!"
"You know these countries?" Germany asked, his gaze focused solely on Denmark now.
"..." Denmark looked away, and Germany stood up from the table.
"I can feel vast amounts of natural resources in each of them." He started, pulling on Iceland's hair. The offended Icelandic pushed him off. "Yes, they'd do very nicely as bases."
"What?! No! Stop him!" Faroe Islands cried. Denmark stood up from the table and shoved her towards the entrance.
"Run! Call England on my phone! You know the number! He'll help you! He'll help all of you! Go!"
"I don't think I've ever seen him be so afraid," Iceland said in amazement.
"Let's go!" Greenland had already darted out of the bakery, and the two followed her.
"Stop them! Don't let them get away!" Prussia yelled, taking after them.
"I don't intend to let them," Germany growled, pulling a pistol out of his pocket. Denmark's eyes widened, and before he knew it, he had tackled Iceland to the ground, feeling his back burn with the gunshot wound. He knew it wasn't permanent, as nations naturally healed faster than humans, but it still stung. He felt the blood drip down his back and heard Germany's heavy footsteps approaching him.
"Denmark?" Iceland questioned. "Why'd you save me?"
"Because." The Dane said simply, and it only took one look into his blue eyes to know the war wasn't over-it would possibly never be. And they were only the first causalities. He slowly let Iceland out of his grasp and pushed him further down the street. There was blood on Iceland's white blouse. "Go. Call England. He'll get you and your siblings out of here. Somewhere safe. Tell him I sent for him," He continued to direct, and Iceland nodded.
Denmark's last vision before collapsing onto the ground was of Iceland's boots, sprinting back towards the house-and hopefully towards his future of freedom.
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1940
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Damn this weather. Norway could only watch helplessly from his window as the rain loudly drummed against it, the wind loud enough to rattle the house. No telegram would come through in this weather, that was for certain. And it was unfortunate, since Norway was counting on that telegram to save not only his life, but his independence as well.
The most recent phone call he got was from England, and that was a few days ago, and was only a generic 'I'm doing fine, how are you?' message that was so common between the European nations nowadays. At least, the ones lucky enough to not fall in either the Nazi or Soviet rings of influence. Both were equally nasty.
Damn this weather, he needed to get out, see how his preparations were doing, see how his boss was, see how his citizens were holding up. So without hesitation, he grabbed an umbrella from his rack-a green one-and headed out into the rainstorm.
He was wearing his Navy uniform, he wasn't sure what else he was supposed to put on, and after seeing several of his citizens out in regular suits, he suddenly wondered if he should've gone back home and changed.
"Lukas!" Several schoolchildren on their way home spotted him and happily encircled him, chatting up a storm.
"Hey. Sorry, I don't have any candy today. I'll bring some tomorrow, okay?" He smiled slightly, and the kids pouted.
"Awww, but I love it when you give us candy!" A skinny blonde girl gushed. She had a five-pointed star necklace around her neck, which Norway raised his eyebrows at. He was sure all of the Jewish citizens had left the city once they heard the news of a possible German threat, but evidently, most either didn't take the threat seriously or had nowhere else to go. He silently hoped nothing bad would happen to them.
"Are you on your way to your boat?" A chubby little boy asked, and Norway shook his head.
"I'm just dressed this way to inspire the morale of my citizens. You know, in case the Germans attack." He explained. "Now I have to get going now, okay? And you children most likely have someplace to go too."
"We gotta go home, but our parents don't mind!" A brown-haired set of girl twins said.
"Yeah, they'd love to know we talked to our country!" The Jewish girl said.
"No amount of patriotism will make up for a broken curfew. Now go on now." He ushered the children on the path behind him and continued walking, thinking about heading to the store to buy some last minute 'luxuries' before they started rationing due to the war. If he couldn't bake, he'd surely go insane!
He walked over to the grocery store he usually bought all his food at, only to try the door and find it locked. He pushed on the door harder, pressing all his weight into it, only to have it budge only slightly. "Strange," He mused to himself. "Did they close up shop early?"
He turned to leave, taking care not to step on the tiny waterdrops rising out of the large rain puddles. Several of them greeted him in their watery tongue, but today was not the day for mystical creatures. There was a war on, and he was determined to stop it at any cost.
#########
"First Denmark, now Norway? Who knew the Nordics were so easy!?" Prussia laughed, waving at Norway, who was currently bound in the same office chair they held Denmark in only a month before. "Maybe the Baltics will be this easy too!"
"No, I think this is a trick." Germany kneeled in front of Norway. "Tell me, what's your real strategy? Is this just a trick to get my guard down until you stab me in the back?" He shook the chair roughly, making Norway feel queasy. He looked away so he didn't barf on his captor.
"No trick," He stated. "There was a storm last night. The British couldn't message us about your movement. We were unprepared for your is all."
"Hm," Germany walked away, clearly not convinced. "Denmark told me a similar story."
"We don't mention him." Norway said sharply. "Just do what you will with me and move along. I can't possibly have anything you want." Lying through his teeth. He knew exactly what Germany wanted, and taking over Norway was a straight road to victory for this war.
"Well, you wouldn't mind if we stick around your place for a bit, hm? Get some of the local flavor?" Prussia laughed, knocking Norway's hat off his head. "Denmark was quite happy to accommodate us. Even served us doughnuts."
"I'm afraid I don't have any doughnuts." Norway's eyes shone with his sarcastic nature, and Germany cut the ropes off his wrists.
"That's okay, I'm sick of sweets."
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Well, Germany wasn't lying when he said he was sick of sweets. All he asked Norway to make were cans upon cans of sardines for his civilians back home, and also on the submarines. Norway was sick of sardines. And he was sick of serving Germany.
"We should move out of here in a few day's time, keep going north." Germany said one evening, as Norway served the brothers their dinner. "We'll also need Sweden. Finland's already on our side, and so is Russia. So then we'll move south."
"The South belongs to the South. The cute Italy, and that annoying Hungary." Prussia grumbled that last part out. "Let them do with those nations as they please."
"That is all," Germany stated, waving Norway away. He simply trudged back into the kitchen, knowing it'd take them a while to eat their dinner. He estimated he had about fifteen, twenty minutes tops, so without making any sounds, he slipped from the kitchen and into his garden. All the vegetables and herbs had been picked long ago to make food for the soldiers, and it was too risky to plant a garden with the Germans so close anyway. No, he had a garden still, but it was in a more personal location.
Looking right to left, then right again, he slipped into his outhouse, which was kept relatively clean. On the bench was a tray full of tiny buds, all soaked in soil. Norway got on his knees and carefully checked each one of them, making sure they had what they needed and hadn't withered away. Most were still buds, but a few were starting to sprout, which he smiled slightly at.
"Hey! What are you doing in there?! Let me in!" Prussia's rough voice demanded, shocking Norway out of his thoughts. He momentarily forgot about the laxatives he slipped into the Germans' food, and smirked when he remembered it. He never imagined they would've worked that quickly.
"It's just that time of year," He responded, opening up a fake board in the floor and hiding the plants inside. "I'm coming out!" He covered the hole back up and slipped back out of the outhouse as Prussia forced his way in, slamming the door shut. Norway smirked even more, pleased at having that small victory against his captors.
"You're taking a page from me," The troll over his shoulder praised, and Norway shrugged.
"I'm just standing up for myself," With another smirk, he snapped his fingers behind his back and magically locked the outhouse door, then walked back to the house. He had more sardines to can.
########
1941
##########
It could not possibly get any worse than this. Iceland woke himself up every morning saying that to himself in his head, in the mirror, and into the dish water as it drained in the sink as he finished washing mealtime dishes. He wasn't taken over by the Germans, sure, but he heard they didn't commit any atrocities in Denmark nor Norway, so perhaps being invaded by them wasn't so bad? Besides, he was Neutral. N-E-U-T-R-A-L. England didn't listen, and once Iceland called him a year ago, he instantly swooped in and took him over instead for the Allies, claiming it was for 'his own good'. Yeah, right.
Half of the time the Englishman was gone anyway, helping out his civilians or attending Allied meetings, leaving Iceland alone in the house without anything to do except idlely chat with the various magical creatures England shared his house with.
Today, as he laid on the couch, several fairies amused themselves by laying on him, snuggling in the folds of his military uniform. He tried in vain several times to shoo them off and finally just accepted it.
"I wonder if there's a movie I could see," He wondered, hoping the German bombs didn't claim everything. "Or if not, I could always go to the park." He stood up from the couch and ran outside, locking the door with the key he was entrusted with and ran down the stairs and into the street, already sweating from the early-summer heat.
"Get out of the way, boy!" Someone yelled at him in English, and he just barely sidestepped a speeding black car. He sighed. He still had so much to get used to in this nation. He still remembered how when he first arrived, he was too afraid to use the toilet because of the flushing noise!
"Hey there!" A girl dressed in a fancy black dress and gloves greeted Iceland. He nodded politely at her. "Where are you going?"
"...The movie theater." He shuddered and covered his mouth at his horrendously-thick accent in English. The girl seemed amused by it, however, and giggled in her perfectly normal accent. God, why did he stick out so much?
"I'm heading there myself. It's a nice little place to take your mind off the war for an hour or two. Except for those newsreels they show at the start of every film. I've seen so many I could quote them by heart!" She started walking with Iceland, taking their same destination as an invitation to chat. "How about you? Are you one of the many refugees I hear so much about?"
"...In a way." He looked away, feeling uncomfortable. "I was taken away from my home and the people I cared about, and my beliefs here aren't well-respected, if that's what you meant."
"It seems everyone these days has a similar story. Why these war refugees come here, to another war-torn part of Europe, I have no answer for." The girl happily waved at a cab driver who waved at her, then stopped walking as she approached a flashy red building. "Here we are at the cinema!" She lead Iceland inside. "Imagine if we were in the mood for the same film too?"
"...What kind do you like?" Iceland asked slowly, and the girl carefully stroked each of the posters.
"Most of these films are American, so I'm not too familiar with them," She frowned. "How about a romance? They're the same in every nation, I assume."
"Fine." Iceland wasn't about to argue in a language he could barely understand to a girl he just met, although the hot-bloodied center of him declared otherwise. "Do you have money? For food?"
"They don't sell much concessions here anymore since everything's being rationed. Sugar, butter, milk, you name it. If it can be used to make fun foods, that is." She led Iceland into the theater the movie she selected was going to play, and sat near the back.
Unlike the girl assumed, there were no newsreels before this film, which Iceland flinched uncomfortably at. How else would he know how things were going with his brothers? When the movie started-the latest from Walt Disney-he was barely paying attention, thinking more about Norway and Denmark. What if England was lying when he told Iceland the nations were fine? Even worse, what if he was sworn to secrecy?
"I gotta go!" Iceland announced, startling several families in the theater, and darted outside, trying to catch his breath. The girl calmly followed him and stared at him. "What if they're not fine? What if they're lying to me? What if they're all lying to me?" He got tears in his eyes, shattering his usual stoic appearance.
"My name is Lina Edwards. I'm a war refugee from Lithuania. They can't-they won't tell me what's become of my precious country. I hate my English last name, I hate this language, and I hate how I'm all alone," She started, but Iceland pulled her to her knees and tightly hugged her, and she returned his hug.
"I'm from Iceland. We're neutral, but the English took us over anyway to protect us from the Nazis. I was taken from my home, and now I don't know what's become of my brothers." He explained, and Lina nodded.
"You want to go out for some lunch? They've rationed all the good food, but I bet we could still find something." She offered, holding her hand out to Iceland. He nodded and took it with a small smile.
"We're experts at meager portions back home."
"Glad to hear it." She led him out of the movie theater and into the warm afternoon.
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1939
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It was a pleasure to kill. The sound of the bullets pulsating out of the gun, the feeling of the trigger when squeezed, the cold, metallic taste one got when licking the weapon. Oh, yes, he licked his rifles. It was all part of the fun, after all. Why else would Germany ask him to tag along on his world-domination team? World domination, what a novel idea it was! Finland could just imagine the other Nordics at his command, taking orders from nobody but him. However, there was a slight thorn in his side. Russia. Oh, that damn Russia. Why couldn't he leave him alone? He heard he had managed to conquer most of Central Asia again, much like when he was an Empire. Weren't they enough?
Oh well. Some people only learn through force, and Finland had been around long enough to learn that. Taking his sniper rifle off the hook he had it hanging on ever since that faithful day, he slung it over his shoulder. Russia wouldn't take him again.
Nobody would.
With a deep sigh, Finland pushed open his front door and was blasted by the crisp, bitter wintry air blowing around him. This was his territory now, not Russia's. He stepped outside and stretched, pulling his hood up firmly over his features. Today would be his day, his time, his war. People would talk. It would go down in history, the day he served Russia some of his own medicine.
He saw an imposing figure slowly marching over to him in the snowy distance, and in a flash, he threw off his sniper rifle and placed it up to his left eye, making sure to aim the target correctly. Once he had it lined up, he fired in an instant, smirking when he heard the loud cries of an injured Russian soldier.
Russia would find out and come after him, of course. But at that moment, it didn't matter; he would be ready.
Finland looked up to the skies and placed his hand on his heart, keeping his face stone cold. "God be with me," He prayed to a God he never fully believed in, then continued his trek in the snow, wondering if the soldier had anything valuable on him.
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1940
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First Denmark, then Norway. Then Iceland was gone. Finland had been long gone before the invasions had even started, although the four Nordics often talked of how if the war did come to fruition, Finland would join the opposing side, no question about it. He was always waiting for an excuse to unleash all hell.
Denmark was taken over just to keep the British on their toes, Norway was a strategic position. And what had he done as his friends had gotten taken over? Stood around, declaring his neutrality. Had the Germans taught him nothing? Had Iceland?
He too, was in a strategic position, and the Germans needed him and his land to trek on between Russia and Western Europe. He said no. They brought guns. He agreed. Plus, who was he kidding? He had been secretly trading with Finland on the side, even promising on the first night of the Polish invasion he would rescue him if things ever came to that. They never had, but he had violated his neutrality. Trading with anyone was forbidden.
Yet if he didn't, he didn't think he could live with himself.
When would this God-forsaken war end? It had only just started, and yet watching his Nordic friends fall around him had felt like several years gone by instead of months. God help him, God help them all, before the Axis Powers ate up the entire world and spat it back out, crushing it under their boots.
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"Hey! You guys aren't supposed to be here!" A cheerful yet stern voice scolded, and the Nordics looked up to see a blonde man with glasses standing there.
"Alfred," Emil nearly swore under his breath, but thought better of it.
"What are you doing here?" Tino asked, running up to him.
"What are you doing here?" Alfred asked again, slightly glaring at him. "You should be back in Europe, cleaning up the mess your allies made."
"They were hardly my allies." Tino's tone suddenly turned dark, but he left the room all the same. Afterwards, Alfred smiled.
"Do you guys like the building? It's huge, isn't it?" He smiled and took the notebook from Berwald and flipped through it.
"What's the point of this...United Nations?" Lukas asked. "Is it like that pitiful disappointment The League of Nations? Because God knows we cannot afford another war like this."
"No, the United Nations is much better! We'll come up with ideas to help the world, and respond more timely and fairly to international crisis!" He grinned, getting stars in his eyes. "It'll last for years and years to come! Why, imagine us in the fancy future, like...2016! We'll probably still be around, floating around in a space station! On Saturn!"
"I like the idea!" Mathias laughed. "It'll be a great way for the world to heal and become best friends again!"
"You're being annoying again," Lukas grumbled.
"And one day, every single nation in the world will be in it." Alfred stated, a bit more quiet this time. He then smiled at the Nordics. "Come on, Arthur's serving us tea and cookies in the commons!" He darted out of the room.
"Don't you mean biscuits?" Emil asked in his English accent, wincing at how dreadful his thick Icelandic accent still sounded. He ran after Alfred.
"Will we really be alright?" Lukas asked, following them.
"I think we'll be just fine, brother! Just fine indeed!" Mathias reassured him, resisting the urge to wrap his arm around Lukas' shoulders. "We've been through so much, what's one more day?"
"Yes...what is one more day indeed?" Lukas smiled slightly at Mathias.
