The Prince of Ice with a Heart of Fire
I'm guessing he's 'hot-blooded' due to all those volcanoes.
When the days were dark, when he was all alone and crying, Iceland liked to pretend Norway was there with him. They would be in a white plane of infinite proportions. No sound. No other life. Just them. He would imagine those strong yet gentle, clothed arms wrapped around him, comforting him, caressing him. His own head, buried in the crook of Norway's neck, lips brushing against that smooth skin, as he would sob quietly, letting all the loneliness and ache wash away. A soft and steady voice would calm him down, telling him that everything was going to be okay.
But it was all in his head.
Iceland never liked being so far away from the other Nordic countries. Loneliness and jealousy would always creep into his heart whenever he heard of what fun they had. They were all so close together.
Iceland felt like he didn't belong.
Iceland's plane to Copenhagen had been delayed due to an unexpected snowstorm, leaving him stranded on his little island. But he was relieved to find out that everybody was going to be late anyway. Sweden's train from Malmö was delayed due to the snow and he was with Finland.
As he sat in the departure lounge, he let his mind wander off. He thought back to this morning, with Norway. It was the first time he had heard Norway so shaken. Even with a subtle hint of emotion in his voice, Iceland could tell something was wrong.
If someone were to ask Iceland how he felt about Norway, he would reply "I guess he's like a brother to me." Norway had always been somewhat of a family figure to Iceland and he wasn't sure if he was supposed to be feeling anything else towards the Norwegian. What was he supposed to feel?
After he arrived in Copenhagen, Iceland swiftly made his way to the meeting point. The pavements were coated in a thick blanket of snow and the sky was a single shade of light grey, resembling the colour of his own hair. Mr. Puffin had made himself comfortable on Iceland's shoulder. He didn't mind, he was used to it.
As he walked, a sudden feeling hit him in the back of the head. Something didn't feel right. He felt like something had happened to Norway- something terribly bad. The Icelandic boy stopped, digging the heels to his slightly dirtied boots into the ground. His gloved hand searched around in his coat pocket for a moment, withdrawing a small, creased, white envelope with 'Til Íslands' printed on it. He stared at it a while, fully knowing the results.
He hoped his new bróðir was all right.
Quickly, Iceland shoved the envelope in his pocket and began to trudge through the snow again.
To his disappointment, Iceland had arrived after everyone. Denmark was drinking a rather large glass of beer and grinning like the complete idiot he is, Finland was sat closely next to Sweden who looked as miserable as ever and Norway looked… fine. He looked fine at a first glance, or rather where Iceland was, which was behind a wall. But the longer he looked at Norway, he saw past his stoic mask and saw something different.
Norway was scared.
His skin was paler than usual and he was shaking very slightly. His mind and eyes had wandered further and he was slouching slightly. Either the others didn't notice or the saw and assumed it wasn't a big deal. But it was. Norway wasn't often like this. Iceland had seldom seen him in this state. It was worrying.
The younger nation breathed in and shrugged off his jacket and draped it over one arm before shuffling out from behind the wall. He wore his usual clothing, which was always neatly ironed and pressed. His top button was always done up with a ribbon tied around his collar. Just how Norway taught him. Norway also told him to wear extra layers when it snowed, thus he wore a light beige pullover to save himself from another I-didn't-raise-you-to-do-this lecture.
"Hey it's Icey!" Denmark cheered as Iceland shuffled over to the table the Nordics were sitting at. Norway immediately sat up and looked at Iceland. Everyone greeted Iceland, questioning why he took so long and if he got here all right… and if he wanted any beer. Iceland wasn't much of a drinker, so he declined.
"Don't say anything. Just read the last part." Iceland quickly drew the envelope from his pocket and revealed a slightly crumpled sheet with a large amount of text printed on it. Denmark quickly snatched it with curiosity. "You sure you're okay with reading something addressed to you?" Denmark noticed this seemed to be quite an important letter.
"Yes, I'm fine. Just hurry up and read it. You'll understand. The last paragraph, as I said." Iceland was becoming quite impatient, and so was Norway. The Norwegian boy had practiced wearing a mask of no emotion for hundreds of years now. This was how he built up his defences. Right now, Norway wanted to know the results.
Denmark quickly translated the Icelandic in his head and began to read aloud the selected paragraph. "The results of the excavation and survey conclude that Norway is your official sibling…!"
A heart stopped beating.
Sorry for the length of this chapter and the time it has taken to get out.
I started writing then applied for a beta reader but I didn't get a response after a few days. Plus I'm going away to Spain next week and that means a week wasted. So I figured I would upload this.
This wasn't going to be the whole chapter. I cut it down and saved the rest for chapter 5.
So I'm looking for a beta reader. Just to help out on grammar and a few ideas for the future of this story.
Some things don't appear as they seem.
Until we meet again!
-Lemonade from Darkness
