I keep reading fanfictions, which distract me from working on my own. And if my attention leaves what I'm doing for even a second, my mind wonders to unknown places constantly. It's been over a week since I updated this. I apologize...I seriously need to get my shit together.
To make up for that, here is an extra long chapter~! (Actually, it being this long was kind of an accident...) I was at a loss for a title this chapter.
Apologies if OOC; Enjoy~!
Lukas/Stoicman= Norway; Arthur/Mint-Bunny= England; Vladimir/Vampboy17= Romania
-Italicized sections are flashbacks.
"It's fucking cold," complained Denmark as the four Nordics trailed behind the magic trio, far enough away that they may not be seen. As an added precaution, the lot decided to camoflauge themselves as well. Denmark and Sweden wore different shades of dark brown and black to blend with the trees, Finland wore all white to blend with the snow, and Iceland wore his usual mix of brown and white (though he wore a winter coat instead of his usual jacket).
"You don't have to tell us," Iceland snapped back in a harsh whisper. "It's the middle of winter...in fucking Norway! Who hikes the mountains in this weather, anyway? Seriously, what's wrong with him?" he asked no one in particular while he watched his brother trudge through the deep snow on the hill up ahead.
"One does not simply understand a Norwegian," Denmark joked and smirked at the youngest Nordic, receiving a glare that clearly showed irritation to the Dane's movie reference. "Anyway, let's go now. They're getting kinda far ahead..." He stopped smiling and looked forward curiously; the trio was nearly out of view now as they neared the top of the hill.
The four Nordics stood from their crouching position amongst the trees and quietly took off after their 'targets,' glad that the soft snow allowed them to move without a sound, though it was fairly deep and difficult to walk in. Eventually, they reached the top of the hill and peeked around the trees, looking for the three nations they'd been following. What they saw was a large field of white; to the left was an extremely steep hill (too steep to walk up), and to the right was the edge of a cliff. The field wasn't very big. In fact, they could see the trio standing just ahead of them, looking down a steep, snowy hill.
"I can't believe it just fell apart like that," they heard the Englishman speak in astonishment. "How on earth are we getting across now," he pouted.
"Mm," Norway hummed quietly. "I felt an avalanche last month...it must have taken out the bridge. We'll just have to find another way across." Their destination, of course, was the other side of this large drench, which no longer had the flimsy wooden bridge connecting the two sides.
England sighed, but Romania just laughed in response. "Alright," he said and glanced quickly at Norway with a spark of mischief in his eye, "we'll head back to the forest and look if there's a way we can climb that." He pointed his thumb toward the steep hill to their left.
England sighed again. "Fine, but my feet hurt enough already. I'm not used to all this walking." He then walked a bit to the side and placed himself on a cold rock after brushing the snow off its surface. "Go, be quick. I need a break."
With that, Romania smirked and turned toward Norway. "You heard him! Let's go~!" And so they headed off, toward the trees again, though this time a bit closer to the steep hill...but still a bit too close for the comfort of the hiding Nordics.
"T-they're coming over here!" Finland yelled in a whisper. "W-what do we do?!"
"Hide," Sweden stated, his sudden deep voice breaking the silence. The four of them then moved over to a large boulder just outside of the tree line, where they sat in wait, watching as Norway and his friend re-entered the treeline not too far from them. Sitting still, they tried their best not to breathe too loudly or make any sudden movements. They watched and listened.
A snicker sounded from the young Romanian man. Norway seemed to glance over his shoulder at the Englishman, making sure he wasn't paying attention. He then turned and pulled his friend behind a nearby tree as he himself stood behind a much larger one and carefully (and quietly) peeled a large slab of bark off of it. After inspecting it to make sure it was strong enough, the Norwegian nodded toward his friend, who grinned wildly, revealing his pointed canines.
Norway paused and glanced around cautiously, as if he could feel the presence of something watching them. Romania noticed this and snapped his fingers in front of his face, effectively attracting the Norwegian's attention. He then motioned toward England, and they began walking toward him.
"What are they doing?" Iceland whispered as he studied his brother and friend, clueless about their actions.
"Dunno," Denmark said calmy, adjusting his position to now look over toward the Englishman, who stood up when he noticed his friends approaching. "Let's just watch..."
What they saw next was a bit unexpected.
"Lukas, what are you-" England was cut off as Romania kicked his feet out from under him, and Norway shoved the large bark slab underneath him before telling him to have a nice trip and pushing him forward with his foot. England screamed and gripped the edges of the bark as he descended down into the deep drench.
Romania immediately burst into laughter as his friend screamed, and from behind, the shocked Nordics could see Norway's shoulders moving as if he were laughing to himself.
"We're horrible friends," the Romanian said through his fit of laughter as he and Norway bro-fisted. After settling down a bit, he then reached into his messanger bag and fished for something. "Alright," he said as he revealed a snowboard that was far too large to fit into the bag and handed it to Norway. "We should probably head down before he thinks we ditched him." He then pulled out another for himself, and they began latching their feet into them.
"W-whoa!" Finland and Denmark squealed in unison. Sweden and Iceland had widened eyes. They'd just witnessed magic; something Norway rarely showed off to them, and it suddenly made sense as to why the trio had only brought a single bag on their mountain hike.
"See ya at the bottom!" Romania shouted and began his descent down the hill. Norway didn't follow immediately after his friend. Instead, he stood quietly for a moment, perfectly still. Slowly, he glanced back toward the large boulder across the small field. That feeling hadn't gone away; no, it felt even stronger now. He knew someone had to be watching them...but he saw nothing when he glanced back at the tree line, so he simply shrugged it off and turned back toward the drench. He could now see his friends at the bottom, beginning up the other side. And so, he headed off.
Lukas soared through the cold winter air. With a graceful twist of his hips and tilt of his body, the young Norwegian man felt the world slow down for a moment, focusing on his movements and hearing nothing but his own calming breath. That amazing feeling lasted just seconds before the world sped up once again as his ski landed smoothly in the snow further down the mountain.
When he reached the bottom, he used a stick to push him along the more-flattened land and spent a number of hours making his way to town. When he had finally arrived, Lukas removed his ski and strapped it to the bag on his back. He headed for the town centre, where he would enter into a small shop to pick up something he had special ordered a few weeks prior, as well as to stock up on food.
Entering the shop, Lukas was greeted kindly by a clean-cut middle-aged man behind a counter of dark chestnet wood and glass. The store was small but very open to move around. Everything was sorted into sections; food at the back wall, supplies on the wall at the right, and small weapons and jewelry in the glass case of the counter to the left. Tucked in the corner at the back of the room, beside the shelves of food, was a door marked for employees only.
"Ah, Bondevik~!" the man behind the counter smiled upon site of the young Norwegian entering his shop. "You're late, my boy. Come, I'm closing in a moment." He gestured for Lukas to sit at the stool at the end of the counter and then disappeared behind the door at the back. A moment later, he returned with a small cardboard box marked "Fragile" in Old Norse and carefully placed it on the counter in front of them. "Arrived late this morning. I've been dying to see this beauty. Opening it now?"
"Mm," the young blond hummed and smiled kindly at the package, holding his slender fingers out for the store owner to hand him a small dagger from below the counter. Without looking away from the box, he slid the blade across the tape and placed it down again once he'd gotten it to the point in which he could easily take the object from the cardboard package.
Inside was a beautifully polished box, square in shape and black in color. Lukas slid his fingers across the smooth lid and gulped. He couldn't wait to look inside, and from what he could tell, neither could the man standing beside him, who edged him on and told him to open it.
And he did just that. Lifting the lid of the box, both men froze, stunned by the sight before them. Inside lay a lovely celtic cross amulet with a deep blue sapphire stone staring up at them. The elder man let out a low whistle after finally regaining his awareness.
"Oh, lad. She's going to love this." He straightened himself as Lukas closed the lid to the box once again. "Come, let's pick out a chain now." With that said, the two moved over to the glass part of the counter, where the young Norwegian peered in and scanned the different necklace chains before smiling and pointing to a polished silver chain. "Ah, perfect choice," declared the middle-aged man as he picked the jewlery from the case and brought it to the counter, where they fit it onto the amulet perfectly.
Stuffing the case securely into his bag, Lukas then went over and gathered some food products to take home and payed at the counter, stuffing them into the bag as well. "How much do I owe you?" he asked, referring to the silver chain, since the amulet itself had been purchased elsewhere.
"Ye don't owe me anything, boy. Consider it an early engagement gift." He smiled kindly and received an equally kind smile and a 'thank you' in return. "Bondevik," the man said as Lukas was stepping out of the shop, holding the door open and turning at the sound of his name. "Let me know how it goes." He smiled.
Lukas smiled sincerely. "I will. Thank you." And he slipped out the door into the dark night to begin his journey back to his home in the mountains.
Norway was sure to show off for his friends, who were slowly making their way up the other side of the deep drench. Speeding down the hill on his snowboard, he swirved from side to side quickly and made it his job to hit every 'jump' in the hillside so that he could twist tricks in the air and land swiftly, to the amazement of his friends (and the spying Nordics peering from the top of the hill, who didn't even know he had a sporty side).
One more jump, and he caught good air, doing a perfect backflip midair before landing and starting up the other side, skidding to a stop in front of his friends...which of course, blasted a bunch of snow right in their faces.
"BLOODY HELL, LUKAS!" England shouted as he wiped the cold fluff off his face and clothes. "That really wasn't necessary," he huffed. "And neither were those fancy tricks. I mean, they were hunky-dory and all but incredibly unnecessary," he huffed. "It's bad enough that you pushed me off a fucking mountain," he growled in a mumble.
Romania laughed cheerfully. "Man, that was awesome!" he cheered and hit Norway playfully on the shoulder without even bothering to wipe the melting snow from his face.
"M-man. I hope they're not g-gone by now," Denmark said as he shivered and puffed for air after finally making it to the top of the opposite side of the drench. It was a difficult feat, and they were lucky they only had to follow the trail previously made by the magic trio. However, by the time the Nordics made it to the top, the trail barely showed since a slight blizzard came rushing in.
"Th're gone," Sweden stated as he scanned the land in front of him, noticing the quickly-fading footprints. "W' should h'rry." He let out a breath of warm white air and turned to help the exhausted Finnish man to his feet.
"M-maybe we should go back," Finland suggested when he finally got to his feet, whole body shivering tramendously.
"What? No way!" Denmark cheerfully shouted, though his teeth chattered from the cold. "We c-came to find out Norge's s-secrets, and d-damn it, that's what we're gonna do!" He sighed and looked back at the other side of the large drench. "B'sides...there's no way we'd make it back up that before the storm, y'know?"
Iceland stood up last and began following what was left of the trail his brother had left behind. The other Nordics turned and looked at him curiously and then decided to follow after him as well. They didn't really have much of a choice; the footprints were fading fast, and they would never make it back the other way.
"I'm sure they have some kind of shelter they're going to," Iceland stated calmly, as if unaffected by the weather. "We're too far behind now, so we should pick up the pace." He glared back at the three nations, two of which were taking tiny, numbing steps and shivering uncontrollably.
Sweden wrapped his arms around Finland and held him close to make him warmer, since he seemed to be coldest. This, however, only made the Swede slow down to his pace. In the end, he ended up carrying the Finnish man while Denmark picked up the pace to keep up with the others as they entered the tree line.
After what felt like hours, the four Nordics could see the end of the forest and numbly stumbled up a small hill at the tree line. When they reached the top, their eyes glowed with hope. In a field much larger and secluded than that last (meaning it wasn't surrounded by cliffs) was a log cabin with windows lit and warm smoke flowing from the chimney. Scanning the field, they could see a large pond further out in the field, just after a very small hill beside the cabin. Out on the ice was a Romanian and none other than Norway, sitting at a circle they'd previously cut into the ice. They were currently holding the ends of a net they'd lowered into the icy water.
"Hiking, my ass," Denmark pouted. "Looks more like camping to me."
"They said they'd be here for a few weeks, Denmark." Finland smiled at his friend, still behind held close by the large Swedish man. The four of them crouched there on the small hill at the treeline, observing Norway from a distance.
"We can't stay out here forever," Iceland said coldly, and Denmark grunted in defiance, though he knew it was true.
"I know," he sighed, releasing a deep breath of white. Then, he jumped when Finland suddenly gasped quite loudly.
"Guys," Finland said in wonder. "What the heck happened to Norway's fox?"
The Nordics looked at each other in confusion, just now realising that they hadn't seen the fox since they first started following them. But they soon shrugged it off when they noticed Norway and Romania quickly returning to the cabin with a large net full of fish.
Romania held the heavy net of fish as Norway used his magic to unseal the underground cooler just outside the cabin. When the lit to the cooler flipped open, they began to dump the live fish into it. It had metal insides and was filled with water, which was kept unfrozen because of the magic seal.
"Hey, Luke, what's this?" Romania asked and gestured to a strange slick-looking glob attached to the now-empty net.
Norway reached over and gripped the slippery white creature, holding it in the air in front of them. "A freshwater squid...?" he questioned in his emotionless voice. "Hm. That's certainly new...way up in the mountains, too...wonder if it tastes any good."
As if it understood his last sentence, the squid suddenly lunged at Norway, wrapping its many limbs around his upper arm and digging its beak into his flesh. After many attempts of pulling the creature off, and Norway trying to hide his pain, Romania ran to the door and frantically called England, who came running out immediately.
"A squid?!" the Englishman yelled and ran to Norway, gripping the creatures powerful tentacles and trying (in vain) to pull it off of his friend. His eyes widened when the Norwegian flinched slightly and let out a small gasp that he'd been holding back. It was then that England and Romania saw a large gush of blood flowing down his arm and began to freak out.
"U-u-um," Romania stuttered in a panic, "Why don't we, like, just kill it and then take it off?"
Again, as if it understood, the squid dug its beak deeper into Norway's arm and tightened its grip to the point in which the Norwegian could no longer hold back his pain, and more blood flowed from where the creature stuck to his arm. His circulation was beginning to get cut off...
"K-kill it..." Norway weakly choked out, his arm now feeling as if it would fall off. Just as Romania came out from the cabin with a knife, the squid suddenly released its grip and jumped into the cooler, disappearing into the water. Panting, the bleeding Norwegian rubbed his pained arm and glared at the water, then using his magic to close and seal the cooler once again. "We've having squid for breakfast..." he declared and let out a deep and shaky sigh before disappearing into the cabin with England.
Romania pouted and closed the pocket knife and shoved it into his pants pocket. Picking up the empty net, he turned toward the cabin but stopped when something caught his attention from the corner of his eye. He turned his head, and his eyes widened in shock when he saw four Nordics, who froze in place and stared back (wide-eyed as well) when they'd realized they'd been spotted.
"Shit," was all Denmark could say before Romania ran quickly into the cabin, shouting Norway's name.
Denmark's quote "One does not simply understand a Norwegian" is a reference to Lord of the Rings. I found it fitting, since Middle-Earth comes from Norse mythology & actually includes Norway's fjords.
Guuuuyyyyssss, I forgot about Ylvis~! No, seriously. The fox wasn't in my original idea for this story, so I kinda forgot about him and didn't realize until near the end of this chapter... ^^; Sorry, Ylvis. Guess he won't be showing up until the end now. Ah well.
But wow. Those Nordics got caught so quickly. haha I blame Denmark. (Always blame Denmark, even if it's not his fault.)
Thanks for reading~! c: Leave a review if you wish. I enjoy reading them. ^_^
