Iceland was groggy and irritated when he awoke, his feet gently pattering across the floor as he moved towards his brother's bedroom. He had another horrible dream, and being alone was getting to him. At least his brother would welcome him into a warm bed and comforting arms. If he were still too wary to fall back asleep, Nor would tell him stories, pet his hair, and sing him a lullaby.
"Håkon," he said in a small voice, "I had a bad dream. Can't I stay in here for the rest of the night?" There was no answer nor was there any rustling of the comforter. He frowned, climbing up on to the mattress only to find it empty.
"Nor?" His voice was louder and it carried down the hallway, alerting Norway and awakening him from his slumber. He rolled off Denmark's chest, pushed the blankets from his body, and slowly made his way back to his own bedroom. Dagfinnur stared up at him, pout on his lips and glare in his eyes.
"Lillebror, i'm sorry. I fell asleep in Mikkel's room. Did you have a bad dream?" The Icelander huffed, crossing his arms and casting his eyes aside. He was throwing one of his tantrums. The only one that ever got him to lighten up during one of these moods was Denmark.
Iceland slid off the bed and skittered down the hall to the Dane's room, walking over to the sleeping lump and gently shaking him awake. Mikkel opened his eyes long enough to see who was there before yawning and sitting up.
"Icey, is something the matter? You only ever wake Håkon up. Was he being rude?" He heard a scoff from his right and briefly wondered when the Norwegian had entered as well.
"He's always in his bed, Mikkel, because he knows I get scared and come to him. He promised he'd always be right there when something frightened me. He broke his promise." His tone was accusatory, and Mikkel laughed a little, ruffling the boy's hair good-naturedly.
"It's my fault, kid. He fell asleep in my room because I kept him up with my yapping." Dagfinnur looked less than convinced, shooting a glare towards his older brother before turning his violet eyes back to Mikkel. The Dane chuckled some more, pulling himself out of his warm bed and picking up the Icelander to hold in his arms. Dagfinnur hardly struggled.
"Come on, Dag, you know Håkon would never purposefully break a promise; he's never once broken one." The Icelander looked conflicted, turning his eyes back on to his brother and receiving a hopeful smile in return. He nibbled on the inside of his cheek and slowly nodded his head, agreeing that his brother would never do something like that. And besides, it wasn't like he didn't come running to him immediately.
"Okay, Mikkel. I guess you are right." He sounded almost reluctant to admit that, and he was even more reluctant to march over to Håkon and give him an apologetic hug. Mikkel smiled, waltzing over to the brothers and affectionately wrapping his arms around them, tight and possessive.
Håkon could handle the squeezing. It was fine, to say at most, but what he couldn't bear was the sloppy, wet kisses Mikkel so lovingly placed to his cheeks and hair. He pressed his face on to the Dane's bare shoulder, wiping off the excess drool with a disgusted groan.
"Åh, min søde lille familie! I love you both so much!" Mikkel's voice was much too loud for the late hours of the night, and Dagfinnur let out a whining noise in protest, shoving himself out from between his elders.
"You're too loud, old man," the kid told him, shuffling over to the bed and climbing atop it. If Håkon was sleeping in here, then he was too. Håkon snorted, averting his eyes from the sputtering Dane.
"Old?" He almost bellowed, "I'm old? I do not think so! Your bror is almost as old as I am!"
"He's old too," Dagfinnur replied nonchalantly. A victorious grin rose on Denmark's face, and Håkon honestly believed he was going to choke him. His eyes narrowed in an icy glare and Iceland cowered, shoving his small body under the blankets and sheets. Mikkel stuck his lips out in a frown, moving over to the bed and prodding the Icelandic lump. The boy squawked, wiggled, and stilled. Mikkel chuckled.
"Neither of us are old, Dag, we're just older than you." The Icelander sniveled at that, shaking his head, nose held high in the air. Håkon suppressed a chuckle, watching the Dane huff. Of course the child was just like Nor. How else was he supposed to act? Mikkel let out a groan.
"Ice," he whined, wrapping his arms around the small child and enveloping him into a hug Dagfinnur most certainly did not want. "Why can't you be nice to your big brother, huh? You used to be so sweet and loving. What happened?"
Iceland didn't even seem to flinch at his words. He just snapped his head to look at him, and with a tone as sharp as a knife, he responded. "I'm not being rude to Håkon, Mikkel. Just to the obnoxious Dane latched on to my person." Håkon snorted and retreated from the room before said Dane could send him a nasty glare.
"Oh, now i'm obnoxious, huh? Is that it?" Dagfinnur gulped, looking away quickly with flushed cheeks. He didn't want to get in trouble just for repeating the same words his brother used when Mikkel got too affectionate. His side was prodded, and he gasped after a few involuntary giggles left his mouth.
"Danmörk, nei." The child said suddenly, doing his best to wriggle out of Mikkel's grasp. It was futile.
"Danmark, ja," Mikkel responded, pushing the child back on to the bed and tickling his stomach. Dagfinnur screamed and squealed, laughing and sobbing while limbs threw themselves rampant, trying to get away from the tickler. It was no use; Mikkel was much stronger than him, and kicking him in the face only seemed to spur him on and make him laugh.
Mikkel stopped gradually, and Iceland's laughter subsided. He caught his breath and let the smile drip off his face, only to fall into a frown. The smirk on Mikkel's face caught him off guard, and fear shook through his small frame. What was he planning? Was it going to be worse?
"Oh, Nor! I think Dagfinn needs more tickling!" He said in a sing-song voice. Dag's eyes got wide, and he looked at his brother frantically in the dark, shaking his head. Håkon let out a dramatic sigh.
"Oh, lillebror. I don't want to have to do this-"
"Then don't! Please, bror!" His pleading fell on deaf ears, and before he knew it, both Mikkel and his brother were poking and pushing into his most ticklish spots. He screamed and gargled, kicking harder than before. When he no longer had any breath and his face was impossibly red, they stopped, trying to calm down their own laughter. Iceland growled.
"You're both mean!"
"Hej, you called me obnoxious, kid. I don't take kindly to that."
"But Nor does it!" Both sets of eyes fell on the Norwegian.
"You have yet to master the Norwegian death stare."
Okay so this one took forever bc school. Sorry. But I made it nice and cute and happy.
