I didn't really care what was happening. All I knew was that the rest of my family was sick of me just being depressed and was taking me out for a dinner. Iceland was dressing me as I was unwilling to really do anything for myself. He could've dressed me up in a bunny-nurse outfit and I wouldn't even know nor care. I smiled softly to myself at the thought of Denmark seeing me like that… and Iceland yelped suddenly and jumped back, eyes swirling with puzzlement.
"W-What are you smiling at?" he stammered, "It's not bad or anything… but you look really creepy!" He stood as still as a statue, leaning back slightly to stare at me.
"Danmark…" I always put all my effort to pronounce his name right, while the rest of my sentences were just slurred mumbles, I sounded surprisingly like Sweden whenever I spoke.
Iceland slapped his forehead at my comment, "Dammit, should have guessed. Come on, Sweden and Finland are waiting." He grabbed my sleeved arm, still slightly stinging from the fire merely a week ago, but it felt so much longer, yet it felt like Denmark was by my side just yesterday, blabbering nonsense into my ear.
"Ya'know, if y'call me 'bror', I'd be more than willing t'do this m'self." I slurred, and he instantly blushed slightly.
"No. I'd rather dress you than acknowledge you as my blood relative." He murmured, his bright violet eyes avoiding mine. I grumbled to myself and even made it harder for poor Iceland, and I smirked inwardly at my partial triumph over my younger brother.
It was late in the afternoon by the time I was finally fully dressed, seeing no need to get out of my comfy sleep clothes as I didn't want to go anywhere. The day passed in a blur of commercials and movies. Iceland let me watch whatever I wanted, but I had caught myself reaching for "The Little Mermaid" multiple times, and when I started hiccupping, Iceland confiscated it and hid it somewhere in the closet where I couldn't find it.
I was dragged out to the car where the others waited, and my mind partially cleared at the sight of my family. Sealand was in the backseat of the car waving cheerfully at me, but he was fidgeting as well. I knew I'd have to pull my best effort to at least act normal for him. Sealand was just a child, and he lost his uncle, someone who bragged about how he survived ships sinking, mutinies, fires, natural disasters, blizzards, and my wrath, not to mention being a nation gave him almost immortality. And now suddenly the great man was gone, taken away in a fucking house fire.
Then again, Denmark did say he hated fire. I remember as a child he was particularly fearful of dragons, yet was curious about them and loved to search for them, but not without sharpening his axe first. But still, being thrown off a ship by a mutinous crew and drowning would have been better than burning to death.
I blinked and I realized I was seated in the car, already buckled in. I was sitting between Sealand and Iceland, who was waving his hand in front of my face. I turned and looked at him, more closely for the first time in a while… was that a stubble on his chin? When the hell did that get there?
"Good, you're not brain dead." Iceland sighed, leaning back in his seat.
I didn't respond, instead I rested my head on his shoulder, making him slightly shiver, but he didn't move away. I was grateful he was putting up with my brotherly self. A smile appeared on my lips, a ghost of a smile, but it was there. It disappeared when an echo of Denmark's reaction to my smile popped into my head.
'Wow! Norge you smiled? Damn! Gotta hide ya before a treasure hunter tries to take ya!' My god he's so corny. Wait…
No, he's not here anymore is he. I frowned, and buried my face into Iceland's brown sweater, hiding my twisted expression from the boy beside me. I didn't remove my face even when the car parked outside the restaurant, and when Finland asked why, I could only think of one thing to say.
"Danmark wants ta hide me from the treasure hunters." I nearly laughed at how all of their jaws dropped.
"Uh… w-well, let's go eat, guys." Was Finland's reaction, it was disappointing. He spoke slow as if he were talking to a child.
And once again, I was dragged like a doll with stones for shoes into the humble building. We got in; waited for a good five minutes, then we finally got our table. I looked over the menu, though I already knew what they had to offer by heart and I knew exactly what I wanted. Everyone placed their orders, and when I ordered mine, the waiter blinked at me in confusion. She looked over at Sweden, as if he were my parent.
"H'said h'w'nted tha s'lmon." Sweden nodded, snatching the menu from me and handing it to the waiter.
She smiled awkwardly before scampering away. I looked at Sweden, partially confused, until I realized what I had just done… I ordered my food in Danish. I held back a laugh that waited in the back of my throat. There was something wrong with Iceland's meal today… but then again, all his food was weird compared to the rest of ours, save for Finland.
"What the hell was that?" Iceland hissed at me as soon as the waiter was out of earshot, and I blinked at him, remembering he was sitting just beside me.
"I dunno…" I shrugged, and I began playing with my gloves. They were pink and had an adorable white bunny on the back of each glove, an even smaller pink bunny charm thing hanging off the bottom of them by a piece of string, Sealand had gotten them for me for Christmas last year, and I loved them.
"You still wear those?" Sealand asked suddenly. "But they're so girly… I got them as a joke…"
I only blinked at him. "I like bunnies…" I said innocently before I returned to poking at the dangling pieces of shiny plastic.
Sweden then reached over the table and pulled my gloves off swiftly; and I just stared at my now naked fingers before looking up at the stern man with empty eyes. "You stripped my fingers… without paying…"
Finland giggled and covered his mouth immediately, and Iceland just gaped. "The hell?"
Sealand didn't understand the more adult joke, his gaze switched from me and his father repeatedly, asking for an explanation. Sweden just put the gloves in his pocket before turning to Iceland.
"Wh't the hell didja p't in his br'kfahst?" he grumbled, and Iceland leaned back defensively.
"Nothing! I ate the same thing and I'm not making stripper jokes!"
"SO THAT'S WHAT THAT IS!" Sealand gasped, and Finland clamped his hand over the young one's mouth.
"Iceland!" Finland scolded, and Iceland crossed his arms in a huff.
We waited in an awkward silence for the food to arrive, me occasionally smirking and Finland eyeing me whenever I did; he was terrified that I was going to make another stripper joke. And to make things worse Sealand kept giggling every few moments, usually after I zoned out. Apparently I look like someone from one of America's TV shows when I zone out.*
When the food finally came, everyone started chatting again. Well… the others did, I just poked at my cooked salmon with my fork and knife, not really having an appetite. My eyes lingered on the pink salmon, steam rising from the dish and curling around my jaw. It smelled delicious but I had a feeling at the back of my throat that made me scared to eat anything.
'Nor, if you get sick, I'ma kill ya.' I could almost hear the ghost of Denmark's voice in the back of my head. 'Eat it, or ya won't get better.'
I shrugged to myself and forced the food down my throat then, suddenly motivated. The voice may not have been a good sign but it was making me willing to eat something, and that was good. Iceland blinked at me in confusion slightly but returned to his own meal, content that I was at least getting some food into my system. The conversation soon became interesting to me and I tuned in, not adding any comments or including myself into the conversation. They went on without me, fully acknowledging my studying eyes but leaving me alone for several minutes until we were half done with our meals.
"Oh, Iceland did you and Norway see the game last night?" Finland asked suddenly, gleaming at us brothers with his usual cheerful expression.
"I did," Iceland sighed boredly. "Norway was busy emptying his stomach for the first quarter, and afterward he was passed out in his room. And it was just because he hasn't had drank any coffee in the past week."
And all eyes fell on me, wide, surprised, save for Iceland who only looked at me with worry. "What?" I snapped, glaring at them. "I don't feel like having any coffee." I was half-lying. Part of me wanted to down every drop of coffee in the kitchen, while the other told me not to or suffer dire consequences.
Then their eyes were directed to my lukewarm, untouched coffee. I uncomfortably shuffled in my chair, preferring to stare at the painting of a dancer that hung on the wall. The restaurant was French themed, but almost everything on the menu was Scandinavian, excluding a few menu items that came from France, and occasionally Britain or America. The lights weren't too bright, and there were Christmas-lights hanging from the beams of the ceiling, mixed with flowers and funny little knick-knacks.
"N'rway…" Sweden suddenly said, placing a cold hand on mine, and I turned to look at him. "W're w'rried 'bout ya s'all."
I pulled my hand away and held it in my other, not wanting to make eye contact with the man, I just stared at some random person's shoes… they looked nice and expensive. After that, we all were quiet, even Sealand felt the awkward atmosphere and stayed silent during our dinner.
After we all finished eating we piled into the car, Sealand talking about his sleepover at America's house the entire way to my house. Apparently there was popcorn, "scary" movies, tales of America's successes in wars and whatnot, and I was happy that Sealand had a great time with our… almost-brother. Soon enough they dropped me and Iceland off at my house. When I threw my fit at Denmark's death, Iceland insisted he lived with me full-time. He didn't even leave me alone when he went to the store, he'd drag me with him… but I'm still not sure why. Sweden looked at me a short while before putting the massive truck in reverse… I knew he was worried and still mourning, they all were. I knew that when I wasn't around they would break down slightly… it was odd having our father figure gone from our lives when we had known him our entire existence. I knew it would be strange during holidays… no loud Dane cheering, no mistletoe hanging from every doorway, no extra bowl of rice pudding for the elves, or the constant cuddliness he exhibited towards me and Iceland, always trying to hug us… but we always pushed away, smacked him even. But his smile always stayed. I once walked in on him with his face buried in his hands though, muffled sobs escaping him and tears soaking his cheeks; it severely shocked me and when he saw my expression he ran from the room, covering his face with his arm to keep me from seeing his flushed skin. He ran into the bathroom and slammed the door behind him, and when I tried to speak to him he shouted for me to leave him.
He never told me what was wrong but I had my ideas.
"Norway?" Iceland brought me back, and I turned to him, cheeks feeling slightly warmer than normal and my throat somewhat tighter. "What are you crying about?"
Just then I realized my cheeks were wet, and I quickly wiped them off with my sleeve, but the tears kept coming, replacing those I stripped from my cheeks. And soon a sob escaped my lips, energy draining from my knees till they buckled beneath me. Why does this keep happening? I buried my face into my hands to hide it from Iceland, but he was already beside me, on his own knees and wrapping his arms around me. I soon found my face buried in the crook of his neck, and I held him close, letting the tears run their course. This crumble only took at the most five minutes, massively shorter than the others. And as soon as the tears stopped, Iceland took me inside, instantly leading me to the bathroom.
"Take a shower and we'll go to sleep, alright?" he said quickly, and I held onto his arm, looking away to avoid eye contact. "Can you do it by yourself?"
"Of course I can." I snapped, stomping off into the room and slamming the door behind me, not locking it. There was no need to lock it anymore… there were no anxious Danes around to worry about me and come barging in. I undressed quickly, not bothering to use the hamper that sat along the wall. The tears wanted to come again… but instead I just let the water from the showerhead soak my face rather than tears.
I didn't even bother to wash my hair and I stepped out to drape myself with a fluffy, royal blue towel, drying my hair partially before wrapping the towel around my waist. I wiped the fog off the mirror before looking into it, seeing my reflection and studying it for the first time in days.
Heavy bags sat below my even duller indigo eyes, paler than usual, lips dry and scarred from all the times I bit it to hold back tears. I scowled at how my feminine face looking sickly and worn, and to go along with it my hair was obviously messy, and I jumped when I remembered the cross that did not sit in my hair at the moment. I ran to the hamper and dug through it until I found my beanie, turning it around but not finding my pin. Panic flooded through me and I dug deeper into the clothes, desperately looking for the golden shining pin.
"I have it." I heard Iceland say from the hallway, and I stared at the door wide-eyed, muscles relaxing at the sound of his voice.
I threw the door open in fake aggravation, staring at the Icelandic man leaning against the wall, the cross between his fingers. He didn't offer it to me, instead he placed it in my hair, insisting I wear it, he pulled back half of my bangs and clipped them there. He pulled back and looked my face over, a frown tugging on his lips.
"Take care of yourself." He muttered before walking past me and gently pushing me out into the colder hallway, the door shutting behind me.
I looked over my shoulder at the door, hearing the shower inside start, and I excused myself to the bedroom. I looked through my drawers before throwing on a lazy sweatshirt and loose-fitting pants, their colours a dull grey that echoed my eyes. A frown appeared on my face… I felt bad for putting Iceland through this, when he must be suffering, too. Denmark was more like a father to him than to me, and yet he had to be strong so he could pull me through, even when I was probably dragging him down with every breakdown I had. I felt horrible, and I'm sure he did to. His strong brother, a Viking, his big brother, suddenly shattered and broken…
No wait, I'm taking this too far. I decided not to think about the subject and I turned toward the bed. There were three mattresses stacked on top of each other, and at the very top there were two impossibly fluffy and thick comforters, one royal blue and one dazzling white that shined in any sort of lighting like silver silk. Pillows adorned all over the bed as well, all plain white or grey, stuffed to the limit with feathers. A sheet hung from the ceiling and draped over one side of the bed just for appearance, white and partially transparent it stirred with any air movement that disturbed it. A window that sat behind the headboard coated the room in sunlight most days, but now it was night and the only thing that lit the room was the man-made light that glowed from the lamp on the wood nightstand beside the bed. Light, flimsy curtains hung from above the windows, and they almost always lifted so they were hovering above the bed when the windows were opened… unfortunately they're the curtains I grabbed last night in my dream and left me crying over the stupid Dane again.
The bed looked inviting, and I found no reason to resist and fell into the mountains of fluff and fabric, pulling at the blankets until I was completely buried, curled into a ball beneath the warming fabrics. It was nice, and almost instantly I fell asleep.
"Norway! Norway!" I heard Denmark call, and I sprung from my sleeping position, stumbling instantly at the tangle of sheets around my legs and falling onto my face. I could smell smoke, rolling onto my side and letting my eyes moved furiously around the… field? Wait...
"Norway!" I felt two strong hands grab my arms and lift me up, and my back getting pressed against something solid.
I turned my head and gave out a gasp, wide-eyed. It was Denmark… perfectly healthy and unburned. He was standing there, smiling at me, his eyes closed so his eyelashes brushed his reddened cheeks. His fawn hair was perfect as well, more tidy than I normally saw it, but not as messy as his bedhead, which believe me is horrible, downright horrible.
"Ya have t'see what I found!" He said loudly before dashing off like a child, his hand gripping my wrist and pulling me away. I went along with him, smiling inwardly at just being in his presence. I knew this was a dream… not a field this spectacular exists. I looked around and saw the golden blades of long grass. They brushed at our shins and glistened under the rays of sun that overlooked the grassy plain. Mixed with the peculiar grass were golden flowers, their very few, large pedals wilted under their own weight, shining like liquid gold. They seemed moist, but in this weather they would have to be bone dry. The flowers were barely tall enough to stick out from the grass, and they were beautiful. I would've loved to grab some for a vase back at the house to give it some colour, but I knew they would vanish as soon as I woke up.
I crashed right into Denmark's back when he stopped abruptly, and I fell to my knees, him stumbling forward slightly but still remaining standing. He turned to me, his expression teasing, and he gently pulled me to my feet. When was he so much taller than me? I was barely eye-level with his chest when I was obviously eye-level with at least his lips last time I stood by him.
He put his finger to his lips, signaling for me to be quiet before he turned and walked off into the grass. I saw him crouch down to pick something up, and he returned. One of his hands was turned so his palm was facing up, something was in it as he was covering whatever it was with his other hand, as if shielding it from the sun.
"Ta-dah!" He exclaimed, pulling away his shielding hand like a sheet and revealing a tiny lizard-like creature in his palm.
I blinked at it, and then looked up at Denmark; he looked excited and waited for a reaction from me. I looked back at the lizard, and it turned toward me, its giant lime-green eyes opening. I noticed it had no arms, but wings, toes with claws at the bend of the wing like a bat. Its dark emerald skin shined, as if it had just been born. It gave a strange purr that crackled slightly, and it tilted its head like a bird.
"What is that?" I asked, feeling an almost connection right away. I reached out with a hand and scratched the ridge just above its eye, to which it tilted its head into and gave an affectionate purr.
"A dragon, duh!"
I stared at him in shock, "But you hate dragons!" I pulled my hand away.
"Nuh-uh." He smiled, "I jus' hate their fire. When they're small like this they're adorable, y'know? You know we used t' tame them, but then they started getting scarcer and scarcer. That's when they tried t'kill us more often…" None of this was registering to me.
I sighed and closed my eyes, pinching the bridge of my nose. I was about to say something but I felt his arms around me once again, and I reopened my eyes, looking up at him, only to find I was the right size again and seeing a ceiling instead. The smell of smoke was more intense now, and I turned my head to see a burning house rather than an open field.
Oh god not again. Don't make me relive this AGAIN.
I was about to cry out to Denmark, but then the feeling of his arms escaped me, and I fell hard to the floor, the wind being knocked out of me harshly. I gasped but all I breathed in was smoke… burning smoke that attacked my lungs. An intense pain flooded my leg and I sat up to look down, eyes widening at the sight of a large red motorcycle digging into the flesh of my leg. There was a shout and I turned, and I saw myself crashing to the floor behind me. I was dumbfounded, and suddenly my lips moved by themselves.
"Norway! G-Get out!" My throat burned intensely with each and every breath and word that left my lips. The heat was too intense. I was sweating all over and my legs were literally on fire. I felt coolness on my cheeks as tears rolled down, but I didn't understand why I was crying.
The other Norway only got a look of determination on his face, and he crawled closer, his eyes flashing in fear, but for me instead of himself. Suddenly I started shouting again, telling him to get away. An intense sense of de-ja-vu capturing my actions, and I suddenly got it. This was how Denmark died.
NO! I DON'T WANT TO SEE THIS! I wanted to scream, but for some reason I wasn't in control of my actions. And flashing white pain engulfed me, coming from my calf. I turned and gripped onto it, fingers digging into my bear skin, begging to be set free. Coughing sounded over the crackling of flames and the bluffs of smoke that fell over my ears… that were somehow burning, though I knew my hair covered my ears and would offer some protection. I quickly brought a hand up and felt the side of my own head, but my hair wasn't as soft, wasn't as neat. It was standing up. Oh god no…
I turned again and saw some firefighters dragging the other me away, and one tried to get me, but there was a loud creak. I looked up at the ceiling then, wincing against the smoke in my eyes and the still burning pain in my leg. The roof was caving in. In a split second the roof fell with a crash, burying me in burning pieces of wood and steel.
I screamed in agony it hurt so much. It was unbearable, and I couldn't take it. It was too much… so much, too much. Nothing compared to the pain. Heat suddenly attacked my skin, eating away at my shirt, my hair, my flesh… it hurt so much. I cried out loudly, trying to push the beams off, my hands only burned worse. The weight suddenly lifted, and I looked up, expecting to see a dark tunnel with a white light, just like people always say you do. But all I saw was a foggy mess of greys, my eyes burning madly. What I guessed was the firefighter that stayed behind grabbed me, lifting me up and oh my god it hurt, but it was so nice at the same time. The fires were patted out painfully, but it was soothing when the burning was gone, only to be left with the after burn that hurt almost as bad. Everything from the waist down was numb; I couldn't feel the gashes in my leg or the pieces of wood that dug into my flesh and muscle. By the time I was in what I thought was the living room, still being carried, I felt heavily tired and drowsy, and I begged to be released from this dream. I'd give anything to be released from Denmark's nightmare.
And all fell quiet… still… and a flash of white engulfed me, and all the pain disappeared in an instant.
"Norway?" I opened my eyes, finding Denmark's pleasant face looking at me worriedly. I opened my mouth to speak but he instantly dissolved before my eyes. In his place was Iceland, looking extremely panicked, and when he saw me awaken he hugged me close. I cringed and pulled away, thinking I would feel a burning sensation where he touched me, and I instantly regretted the careless action.
When I saw the look on his face when I pulled away, I almost broke down completely. He looked worn out, tired, confused, and depressed. Instantly I clung onto his torso, burying my face into his shirt. I didn't realize how much I was shaking until then, barely keeping a hold on Iceland's sleep shirt.
"It's okay…" I sniffed, "It was just a nightmare. It's okay." I tried to reassure him.
"No it's not…" he whispered, voice shaking slightly.
I then looked at him, dead in the eye, sitting up straight so I could take dominance. "Stop trying to be strong for me. You can cry, too, y'know. It's not going to kill me if I see you have a fucking heart." My voice shook violently, and for a second I thought he was going to ignore me until his face twisted into something I saw just before I left the Kalmar Union… leaving Iceland alone with battle-crazy Denmark.
He started crying then. Quietly, not dramatic or crumbling like me, but it soon intensified to sobbing and he clutched onto me, and I tried my best to return all of his comforting hugs whenever I got like this, actually being a big brother in this time where all of us needed this.
"I hate you…" he whimpered, "always getting the best of me…"
I smiled softly, and my shaking partially subsided. We huddled together, half under the thick blankets that stuck to us like Velcro. I glanced out the window and saw it was still dark out, and I frowned. That nightmare didn't even take up half the night.
We fell over eventually out of drowsiness and fell asleep. There was nothing in our dreams, only blackness. And that soothed both of our exhausted minds.
The next day, I learned how gloomy Copenhagen could get.
*- Reference to "That's So Raven". I just had to.
