A Family You Choose
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or any of its characters, no matter how much I wish I did.
Pairings: Iceland/Sweden; England/China and Norway/Denmark
Warnings: Probably OOCness with most of the characters.
Chapter Seven: World Meeting Day One
Iceland woke to the soft sound of Hong Kong's voice near his ear and a warm hand shaking his shoulders gently. Groaning as he fights against unconsciousness, the small European nation slowly peels his eyes open, squinting at the bright light assaulting his pupils as it streams through his open curtains. Blinking rapidly to clear the black spots dancing in his vision Iceland whines once more earning himself a light chuckle from Hong Kong.
"Good morning, Xiăo didi. How are you feeling?"
Iceland turns his gaze to his brother in confusion, wondering why he was asking even though he had just woken up but seeing the hidden concern in the other's eyes he understands. Realising that he must look a bit rough, his eyes no doubt had bags under them and his skin looking pallor as he had not been able to get much sleep the night before. He had simply been too worried about the meeting today and coming face-to-face with the Nordics for the first time in a month.
"Nervous, tired…"
He knew that there was no point in trying to lie to Hong Kong, not that he ever wanted to, but the other boy knew him well enough to easily tell when he wasn't telling the truth. So, as embarrassing as it was, he told the truth. Hong Kong didn't laugh though, again not that he thought the other would but it wasn't something a teenager wanted to admit to anyone.
He was truly terrified about what Denmark and Norway would say to him or even worse, what they would try to do to China, England or Hong Kong. Would they attempt to take him away? Try to keep him away from his newly formed family? Maybe they had planned to hurt them or me if I didn't go with them, I don't want anyone getting hurt because of me.
"Don't worry so much, Icey. If Daan Maak or No Wai even attempt to do something you know Maami and Dedi will stop them, I am sure that Seoi Din will step in if he has too. Though I have a few doubts about them trying anything in front of the number of world nation's that are going to be in attendance, it would be too big a risk to take."
Hong Kong sits down on the edge of the bed watching silently with a sad smile as Iceland pulls himself up to rest his back against the headboard. His violet eyes lock onto the other boy's face, tracking the worry lines across his forehead dejectedly, he didn't want to make people worry about him constantly.
"I know, Hong. What about after the meeting though? I wouldn't put it past them to wait until most have left when the meeting is called to a close, it would be easy to grab someone in that hassle…"
Iceland, sighing loudly, shifts slightly, leaning his forehead against the other nation's shoulder sighing contently when he feels delicate fingers run through his hair soothingly. The smell of firecrackers filling his nose setting his frayed nerves at ease.
"How about this, I will stay with you the entire time. As soon as the meeting ends I will not let you leave my sight to the best of my ability."
The Asian nation watches as his brother relaxes further into his frame from his ministrations, he could practically feel some of the tension bleeding from stiff muscles.
"Really? You mean it?"
The relief in the European countries voice makes Hong Kong frown, saddened that such a sweet and innocent person had to feel such insecurities and fears especially seen as said emotions were installed by someone the smaller nation had once considered family. Wrapping one arm around Iceland's shoulders and the other around his hips, Hong Kong pulls the smaller country closer, making him virtually sit on his lap effectively tucking his brothers face in the crook of his neck.
"I promise, Icey. I won't let you out of my sight, even if I end up annoying you to high heavens."
"Good morning, boys. Is everything alright?"
Iceland pulls his face from Hong Kong's shoulder as both teenagers turn their heads towards the direction the voice had come from only to spot England leaning against the doorframe casually, arms folded across his chest loosely, a soft smile playing on his lips.
Upon seeing that he had gained the attention of his son's, England pushes himself away from the wooden surface and walks towards the bed ruffling Hong Kong and Iceland's hair before placing a kiss to each forehead fondly.
"I know you are probably worried, Eir but your mother and I will try our hardest to keep Norway and Denmark away from you today. If they say anything to you just ignore them, they mean nothing to you and whatever they have to say will most likely be false."
Without missing a beat, England pulls Hong Kong too his feet settling Iceland back onto the bed comfortably as he keeps his eyes on the younger teenager. He assists the European island to his feet a few seconds later earning beaming smiles from both boys as they hug him happily.
"Now I was sent up here to fetch you both for breakfast, so I suggest we hop to it, otherwise we will be dealing with an irate China. After eating we will need to get ready for the meeting. Eiríkur, I want you to wait here because I bought you a new outfit for you to wear."
Iceland looks up at England in surprise, no one had ever bought him a present without it being his birthday or Christmas, thankful he offers another hug which England returns gladly.
"Bet it's a three-piece suit!"
Hong Kong sings gleefully as he snickers at the flush dusting across England's cheeks lightly, glaring down at the Asian nation who merely smirks, dancing out of the room to presumably making his way to the kitchen for his breakfast.
"Thank you."
Iceland mumbles quietly feeling a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips as England turns away from the door in order to smile down at the younger nation, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.
"You don't mind wearing a suit, like one of mine?"
He asks nervously, knowing that most older nations call his sense of fashion too stuffy and things only old men wear, he wasn't sure what a nation a few centuries his junior would think.
"Not at all, I always have liked the outfits you wear to the meetings. Suits always make people look really smart and put together, Noregur wouldn't let me wear one because all Nordics had to wear modern Scandinavian clothing."
The blond nation feels his smile widen as he ruffles the strands of white-blond hair affectionately gesturing towards the bedroom grandly, indicating for them to start making their way down to the kitchen otherwise, they really would have to deal with an irritated Yao.
"Well, thank you, son. I am glad. Now, come along."
The two European nations make their way down the stairs towards the sounds of laughter, coming through the archway the pair sees Hong Kong and China sitting at the table with steaming plates of food in front of them, two more in the empty seats.
"Finally, I was starting to think you would never make it down the stairs, aru."
China quips as he takes a sip of his tea. England merely chuckles at his husband and after making his way across the room to stand behind the man's chair bends down to place a chaste kiss to China's lips bringing a light flush to the other male's cheeks.
"Good morning to you too, Love."
Iceland simply walks past the couple, ignoring their behaviour as they tended to act like that every morning, he takes his seat opposite his brother rolling his eyes discreetly at the public display of affection, while Hong Kong fixes his features into an expression of disgust.
"Oh please, keep it in the bedroom, you shouldn't do this in front of your son's especially when we are eating; think of our poor virgin eyes!"
He cries woefully as the other three break into chuckles after England pulls away from China who still was doing an impressive imitation of one of Spain's tomatoes. They each settle back down to eat their meals, a dish of Chinese steamed buns filled with beef-stew, as Iceland sends a smirk towards Hong Kong.
"Virgin eyes? Speak for yourself, Jia."
Iceland could feel his smirk widening because, as he had predicted, England and China both choke on the food they were eating, taking sips of their tea to help wash down the bite. Hong Kong, on the other hand, simply stares at his younger brother before bursting into laughter, he watches as Iceland fights a losing battle before joining him.
It takes a few seconds but England and China finally regain the ability to breathe normally, as Iceland and Hong Kong force themselves to calm down.
"Eiríkur!"
"Yes, Faðir?"
The white-blond nation tries to give the older European nation as much an innocent expression as possible but feels his smirk fighting to break free at the look of shock still on the other's face. He glances over at China and nearly cracks at the flabbergasted expression on the Asian nation's face.
"What, exactly did you mean by that?"
"It's not like I said I wasn't a virgin, just implied that I might have looked, maybe a bit more but seriously can you blame me? Have you seen Svíþjóð? Anyway, I am not a child anymore."
England sighs lightly watching as his son's smirk fades slowly into a guarded look.
"That's not what I meant, Eir. Just try to keep it suitable at the table, alright?"
"Alright, Faðir. Sorry."
"Good. Now, if everyone has finished, we really should start getting ready, aru."
England, China, Hong Kong and Iceland all arrive at the world meeting building a few minutes late; they want to make sure that all other nations were in attendance before they walk in as it would make it harder for the two Nordic nations to try anything against Iceland.
England, earlier that morning, had sent a few of his workers ahead with all of the desserts he had spent a few hours the night before baking; after having shown the finished products to Iceland. He had instructed them to be placed on a buffet table off to the side of the room for nations to snack on before and after the meeting along with during the breaks.
Many countries are standing around talking to one another when Iceland comes skipping through the open doorway clasping England's hand in his own as he happily discusses the many English desserts and how they differ from those found in his own country. The Englishman, much to everyone else's surprise, smiles down at the teenage nation indulgently, chuckling at the other enthusiasm.
A few nations even pause their own activities to watch the pair as they make their way through the room towards the head of the table where, others were just realising, their name tags sat. Confusion runs through the air as countries begin to wonder, mentally questioning, why Iceland wasn't sitting or even acknowledging the Nordics sitting as far as possible away from their youngest.
Others who were not pondering the relations were staring at the Icelandic's clothes. Instead of his usual white knee-high boots and bowed shirt, he was dressed in brown suit trousers with a matching blazer buttoned down his front; a white long-sleeved shirt, black tie and a deep blue waistcoat. He was wearing black, polished dress shoes on his feet.
England, ignoring the others in the room, takes his seat at the head of the table before gesturing for the younger to do the same. France, who was seated beside the Icelandic nations chair chuckles softly when he sees a small pout forming on the teenager's lips, hearing the younger nation speaking to England in a tone close to a whine.
"Can't I grab a slice of cake first, please? I mean we can't have all of your hard work go to waste, you spent hours baking it all."
The blond nation spies France's wide-eyed expression from the corner of his eyes and flushes in embarrassment before smiling fondly at Iceland; he tilts his head towards the table chuckling as the other's face lights up with glee.
"Go on then."
Placing a quick kiss to the Englishman's cheek in thanks, Iceland scampers off towards the desserts, his eyes roaming along the table trying to decide which one he wants to eat first.
"I wasn't aware you could bake, Angleterre?"
England turns towards the French nation, making sure to keep half an eye out for Denmark and Norway, in case they decided to try and speak to Iceland while he was alone.
"No one ever asked. When it became known that I couldn't cook, everyone assumed it meant I couldn't bake either but the two are very different. I normally make the desserts at home anyway; my sons have quite the sweet tooth for them."
"Sons?"
France questions, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"Yes, my sons. Though my husband is quite partial to them also."
England says with a smirk, finding the French nation's expression of shock and incomprehension amusing but sadly before France has a chance to reply, China and Hong Kong who were kitted out in their bright red and black traditional Chinese outfits walk into the room. Much like the pair before, the two Asian nations ignore the rest of the gathered countries heading straight towards their seats. Hong Kong on England's right-hand side, opposite Iceland and China opposite France.
The younger of the two waves to England, before walking his way towards Iceland who was now cutting a slice of Bakewell tart and placing it on a paper plate he was holding in his hand.
After a few more minutes of gossiping and of England sorting through his paperwork, the island nation calls the meeting to order waiting patiently for all nations to take their seats trying to hide his exasperated smile as Iceland and Hong Kong return to the table with a plate almost overflowing with desserts.
As the meeting progresses, China makes sure to keep a close eye on the Nordics, mainly Denmark and Norway because he wasn't entirely sure where the Finnish man stood on the matter, he notes how Norway's gaze is fixated on the young nation, glaring darkly. He narrows his own amber eyes as he watches the European nation lean over towards Denmark while whispering something in the other ears, his gaze never wavering.
Iceland, for the most part, is trying his hardest to ignore the heated glare attempting to burn a hole in the back of his head. He makes sure to take diligent notes on all the key points bought up through the various speeches and presentations of other nations and contributes whenever he can.
He was surprised at how little arguing there was throughout the meeting and that no major fights were having to be stopped; the break passes with no incident, though Iceland was amused to see a mad dash for the buffet table. He had to hold in his chuckle at the smug look on England's face as he watches all the nations who had ever insulted his cooking snacking on his desserts.
So, it is not surprising that in little to no time the nations are packing their belongings together, collecting all sheets and documents to head home.
England calls the meeting to a close happily, confusion mingling once the island nation turns his attention to Hong Kong and Iceland who were once again picking up pieces of cakes, though only a few remains.
"Come along, Eiríkur, Leon we have a few things to do once we get home."
"Yes, Faðir."
"Yes, Dedi."
However, before the small family could make their way towards the door, France appears in front of the Englishman who had been paying attention to Iceland who walks over to his father chewing the last piece of his dessert contently. Upon reaching the older nations side, Iceland silently steps up next to him, gripping the edge of his sleeve tightly as he watches the French nation.
"Bonjour, Angleterre. That meeting, I think deserves some congratulations, mon cher."
France smiles flirtatiously at the Brit who simply scowls in return, squeezing the young teenagers hand reassuringly when it slips into his own.
"What do you want, Frog?"
"Ah. Désolé, I just wanted to talk to you for a little while, is that so wrong, mon ami?"
"Yes, well, as you can see I am quite busy. So, make it quick."
Iceland shifts uncomfortably, leaning a little closer to the English nation who takes notice and wraps his arm around the thin shoulders helping to keep the boy at ease, though it does draw France's attention to the younger of the three.
"Yes, those sons you were talking about, tell me Angleterre, how did this come to be?"
Rolling his eyes at the French's need for gossip, England looks down at his youngest son smiling fondly at the way Iceland was playing with the fingers draped over his shoulder before turning his attention to France once more.
"That is not a story I will delve into today, France. Now, if you will excuse me, I will see you tomorrow."
England begins to turn himself and Iceland around, steering them so they are walking towards China and Hong Kong who were discussing something next to the buffet table still, unaware of the pair approaching. He ignores the wounded cries and overdramatic rambling of his French neighbour, choosing to gather his belongings and leave as soon as possible.
"I still don't understand why he has to flirt with you at every meeting, aru. It is harassment, Arthur, you should do something about it."
China begins as soon as he spies his husband walking back towards him. The European nation simply sighs good-naturedly, releasing Iceland's hand and watching as the smaller moves to stand behind Hong Kong, resting his chin on top the other's shoulder with a little difficulty.
"What would you suggest I do about it, Yao? This is France we are talking about, he harasses everyone."
His husband scowls darkly at the French nation who is just exiting the room, apparently chasing after another victim.
"I know that… it's just that he seems to harass you more than anyone else. But can't you just, I don't know, avoid him? Threaten him?"
England chuckles softly at China's frustrated expression, taking the older nation's hand in his own interlocking their fingers; he raises a thick brow.
"Don't you think I have tried all of that before, I have been dealing with him for around three centuries give or take a few decades."
"There has to be something you can do."
The four-thousand-year-old Asian nation whines out, pouting up at his husband whose eyes light up with mischief when he recognises what the other really was having a problem with.
"You wouldn't happen to be jealous of France now, would you Yao?"
China pulls his hand from England's sharply, a dark blush dusting his cheeks as he folds his arms across his chest, sticking his nose up in the air defiantly.
"What? No, of course not! Whatever gave you such a stupid idea?"
England wraps his free hand around the older nation's waist pulling him close watching in amusement as China's eyes widen, and his blush deepens. His hands falling to stabilise himself on England's firm chest as he tilts his head up to snap at the other male until a set of lips press against his own.
"Are you sure, Love? Not even a little jealous of France?"
"Fine, maybe just a little, aru."
"See now that wasn't too hard, was it?"
The European nation can feel his smile widen at the blatant embarrassment on Yao's face and rewards his husband with another, slightly more passionate kiss causing China to sigh into the others embrace.
"Hey guys, as much as I hate to, and trust me I do, I am going to have to break up this cringy old man flirting because Iceland is gone."
The pair springs apart violently, their eyes widening in shock as they scan the room looking for some indication that Iceland was still in the room but there was no sign of the young nation.
"What?"
"Why didn't you keep an eye on him?"
England shouts frantically, frowning down at Hong Kong who was wringing his fingers anxiously, tears coming to his eyes.
"Hey! He was here a second ago! At least I noticed that he was gone, you two were much too busy flirting to keep an eye on your own children."
Hong Kong wipes his eyes of all the evidence that he was upset by his father's accusation.
"You are right, I apologise Leon."
"Alright, let's go find him, aru."
"Get off me! Let go! You're hurting me, Noregur."
Iceland is panicking, Norway had grabbed him from out of the meeting room while the others were distracted and proceeded to drag him through the corridors. He is trying to twist and pull his aching wrist away from the older nation's grip attempting to get away from the irritated Norwegian whose fingernails were digging harshly into Iceland's skin leaving angry crescent-shape indents.
"Shut up, Island! I have had just about enough of this pathetic teenage moping, you will be coming home with me now or trust me, you will not like the consequences. Danmark is waiting for us in the car, so hurry up!"
Norway growls out in frustration still struggling to pull the younger nation towards the aforementioned car sitting idle along the curb. Iceland is now frantically tugging his arm while digging his heels into the gravel in an attempt to hinder the others progress. Hoping that his family will turn up soon and help him get away.
"No, let go of me! I want Faðir, I want to go home. Stop!"
Iceland's struggles become almost frantic as his worry reaches an all-time high, he can feel tears beginning to form in the corners of his eyes, his eyes stinging as he blinks them away rapidly. Norway yanks the resisting teen forward violently, almost pulling his arm out of the socket, it causes him to cry out in pain, praying that nothing had been torn.
Getting frustrated with the amount of fuss his younger brother was making in the middle of the street and worried that someone walking close by would hear, he halts suddenly. Spinning around, he brings his free hand up to connect with the side of Iceland's face; backhanding him with enough force to bring the younger to the floor.
"I told you to stop struggling!"
Norway leans forward, reaches a hand down to drag the teenager back to his feet once more to continue his way towards Denmark, but Iceland cries out flinching away from the man standing over him; his eyes clenching shut tightly, hands bought up to his face and knees being drawn to his chest to ward off any other potential attacks.
"Is everything alright here gentleman?"
Freezing in surprise, the duo looks up to find a police officer strolling towards them, one hand resting almost casually on top the baton hooked to his belt while the other was holding onto a belt loop. He glances down at the younger of the duo in front of him with mild concern before crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow at Norway who glares at the man.
"Everything is fine here, officer."
"May I ask what you were doing?"
Norway looks down at Iceland who was still curled into himself crying lightly, turning his head, he glances behind him at the car only to find Denmark watching, laughing before deciding to ignore the Dane and turn his attention back towards the police officer.
"I was just taking my little brother home after work, and we really need to hurry. One of my friends is waiting for us."
"I am sure he can wait while I ask you both a few questions because no matter how you look at it, this situation is cause for concern."
"Of course…"
The officer smirks at the man's unease and pulls a small notebook out of his breast pocket, flicking to a clean page he glances between Norway and Iceland before focusing his attention on the older nation.
"Alright, name?"
"Lukaz Bondevik."
"Relationship to this young boy here?"
"I am his elder brother."
"Alright, and where were you taking this young man?"
"We were heading home after my meeting ended, he was acting out and I thought to get back as soon as possible."
The officer jots down the answers into his book before nodding sharply. He crouches down in front of Iceland who wipes his tears away with a shaking hand starring up at the man shyly.
"Hello there, son. Can you tell me your name and age?"
"Eiríkur Kirkland and I'm 15 years old."
He sniffles lightly embarrassed to be seen crying like a small child by this stranger but feeling too scared and vulnerable to do much about it, he lets his tears fall silently.
"Do you know this gentleman?"
He indicates to Norway standing behind himself and watches as Iceland nods his head slowly.
"Yes, he is one of my Faðir's colleagues."
"Faðir?"
"My father."
"Ah, I see and where is your father?"
Iceland points shakily over his shoulder indicating towards the building he had been dragged out of previously.
"He is inside. He was dealing with a difficult colleague with Moðir and Leon and I was waiting close by so we could all go home together. We have a few things we needed to deal with once we got home."
"So, you were supposed to go home with your dad?"
"Yes, sir."
"Alright, son. How about we all wait here for your father to come out and we can clear this entire situation up so that you can go home?"
Iceland nods his head slowly watching as the officer gets to his feet, taking hold of Norway's bicep as if he were expecting the other to attempt to make a break for it.
As if summoned, the doors to the building fly open with such a force that the sound of wood hitting stone echoes across the car park. Iceland can't help but let out a relieved cry when he spies England running out of the building and across the gravel, his thick eyebrows furrowed with worry as he spots his son on the floor.
The blond drops to his knees next to the frightened teen, smoothing the white-blond hair away from the others face gently. The Englishman scans Iceland's face closely taking in the bright red mark printed on the pale cheek and the fresh tear tracks streaming down his face. He pulls the younger nation into his lap, holding him against his chest, rocking them both back and forth as he runs a hand down the trembling nation's back, his other carding through the short locks.
"Oh, Eiríkur. I was so worried about you. I am so glad you are alright. You are okay, right? God, I wouldn't know what to do if I lost you."
Iceland sighs, content to be in the safety of the older nation's arms, he uncurls from his tight ball and burrows his face in England's shoulder, fists clenching the material of the other's shirt.
"I'm okay, Faðir. I was so scared."
"I know, sweetie. I know."
"Umm. Sorry to bother you, Mister...?"
England looks up startling at the strange voice, spying the police officer he offers up a small sheepish smile for his inattentiveness, carding another hand through Eiríkur's hair as the boy begins to cry softly this time in relief and happiness.
"Kirkland. Arthur Kirkland."
"Right, well I am sorry to bother you, Mr Kirkland. I am officer Windsor."
Nodding in greeting England shifts on the floor a bit, watching as China and Hong Kong come to stand behind him each eyeing the Norwegian still being held securely by the officer, suspiciously.
"What can I do for you this afternoon, officer?"
Mr Windsor clears his throat indicating to the nation by his side causing all eyes to narrow dangerously.
"Actually, sir. I wanted to know the relationship you have with this man."
"He is a colleague of mine. We work together on occasion."
"Right well, Mr Bondevik here stated that he was young Eiríkur's older brother and that you gave him permission to take him home because he was misbehaving?"
England can feel his expression morphing into one of annoyance at the revelation but he keeps his emotions in check and the only outward sign of his irritation was to pull Iceland tighter to his chest resting his chin gently on top the teen's head.
"No, this is Eiríkur's brother. I would never allow this man to look after my son again!"
"Again, sir?"
"Yes, I allowed Lukas to look after Eiríkur for a few days while Yao and I were away at a conference. Leon decided to stay at a friend's house. He arrived home late in the evening with a mild concussion, bruising around his elbow and knees. He hadn't eaten or slept for two days and was terrified beyond belief."
"Okay, with your permission, I will write this up back at the station and give him a warning for child abuse, neglect and attempted kidnapping. It will be on his records permanently this way."
England nods at the officer as he writes some more notes in his book before dropping Norway's arm and signalling that he was free to go. He gave the nation a warning to stay away from the small family and for England to contact him directly in case something else happened. The Norwegian nation glares back at the officer and turns on his heels, leaving without even a word of apology.
"One more question, sir. Is this gentleman also a colleague?"
England looks behind himself to find the officer was gesturing towards China who is staring at the teen in his husband's lap with a concerned frown.
"This is Yao Wang, my husband. Eiríkur and Leon's mother."
Officer Windsor stands still for a few seconds shaking his head back and forth as if trying to figure out a complicated puzzle before glancing between England and China. He releases a chuckle when he spots the smirking face of the Englishman directed towards a scowling and blushing Asian.
"Mother?"
He questions trying to stifle his laughter.
Yao glares down at Arthur when his smirk turns into a wide beaming smile, which he aims at his husband unperturbed. The blond silently indicates towards a now sleeping Iceland in his lap; getting the message the older man, though still glaring, steps forward, crouching down in order to slip his arms around the napping teen, placing a quick kiss on his partner's lips China stands with Iceland cradled against his chest.
This allows Arthur to stand up off the ground, dusting down his trousers.
"Yes, when Leon was younger he was taught that mothers were the ones who typically did all the cooking and cleaning and so started referring to Yao as his mother because I was the father. Of course, I did everything I could to encourage him. Eiríkur just happened to adopt the title as well."
A/N
Another chapter posted, I hope you guys are enjoying this story as much as I am writing it. This one is a little longer than the previous ones but I let's pray that doesn't deter you!
Translations
Chinese
Xiăo didi - Little brother
Dānmài - Denmark
Nuówēi - Norway
Mŭqin - Mother
Fuqin - Father
Ruìdiǎn - Sweden
Icelandic
Noregur - Norway
Faðir - Father
Svíþjóð - Sweden
French
Angleterre - England
Bonjour - Hello
Mon cher - My dear
Mon ami - My friend
Desole - Sorry
Norwegian
Island - Iceland
Danmark - Denmark