Note from Catskid100- WOW. Just... wow. I say this a lot but this is a MUST READ. Gah, I was squeeling like a mad
woman while reading this! The style is beautiful and I think you guys will like it! Please review kindly!
Title: CPC: Hold On
Pairing:Egypt x Iceland.
Rating: M (mentions of sex, general angst - again. Seriously guys, get me some happy pills or summat)
Genre: Angst/Fantasy and Romance of course!
A/N: This is for catskid100's Ultimate Fanfiction Challenge. I totally had to try my hand at it! (Ferking awesome idea, btw)
Great challenge. I chose to make this a fantasy story and of course, it's AU, so they're probably OOC. See, I don't see lots of Iceland so I don't know what he's like really, except for the Wordy Nordic Comic and Himayura's character profiles - he seems like a strange little guy lol. Same with Egypt. Both human and country names used, but in the second part (the little section at the very end) they're just called country names because...well, you'll see.
So is it cliché? Probably. Yes. But hey, I'm the first one to write for the pairing so I think I'm entitled to be.
I hope you strange people like this - not an insult. The stranger the better - I believe it takes a special kind of strange to write fanfiction and to write complete and utter crack garbage (cough ME cough). Enjoy! Or don't.
Oh and you know I don't own Hetalia right? The guy who does is a legend. Also there are some historical references but they're probably wrong so just deal, ok? Maybe I'll fix 'em up later. Feel free to ask me something if you're confused, too.
The Kingdom of Iceland was one of the most beautiful places in the world. The Palace was made of pure crystal and ice - it did not melt, not even under the shining white and gold eye of the sun. It was the winter sun that cast rays devoid of warmth - their purpose was to illuminate, to make ice-diamonds shimmer and rainbows dance across the walls.
Inside the Palace, from the scorching lands of the South, sitting on a glass table in the centre of an empty room, was a wooden tower. It was about a foot tall, and had a string of patterns carved out of each surface, flowers, leaves and stems, making it possible for one to see inside just a little.
This particular room belonged to Prince Sveinn (many called him just "Iceland" due to the Kingdom's name) and the ornate tower was a gift, though he believed it was just somebody laughing at him. He was known to have never ventured outside of the Palace, though he longed to know what sand felt like, what warmth felt like. Summer warmth; not that of clothing or blankets or embraces. The tower taunted him - oh ho, ho, little man, this was made someplace where you couldn't even imagine. This is the only taste you'll have of the South.
Sveinn leaned in and inhaled scents that were completely foreign to him - wood, spices. He had become obsessed, immersing himself time after time in fantasies - what it must be like to walk across sands, touch tree bark, taste things other than those that had been imported.
There was a gentle knock on the door and the Prince managed to get to his feet and straighten his clothing and his back before the person entered the room.
"Iceland, come away." It was his older brother, Eirik (Prince of Norway). He had been alive much longer than Iceland - he had seen the world, what it had to offer, yet he remained inside the crystal walls. Perhaps he was bound to the Palace, just like Sveinn. "Masters from the houses of Oxenstierna and Väinämöinen will be arriving at any moment. We want you to be present; you must be on better terms with their two Kingdoms."
The Prince sighed and nodded. "I wish I could be something different, just for a change, just for a day. It's so cold here."
His brother gave him a knowing, empathetic look before putting a gentle arm around his shoulders and leading him out of the room.
I saw him again today, Gupta Muhammad Hassan thought to himself happily as he traced his fingers across the window sill, gathering some of the dust that had settled there as the day passed. He allowed his lips to curve ever so slightly in a rare smile, comforting warmth in his blood, pouring abundantly from his heart. I saw him again today.
Outside of his petal-shaped window, he saw the vast ice bricks, the crystal silver and white, and longed to reach out and touch it, to quell his burning skin. It was so hot, so unbearably hot inside his world, and he longed to see the snow. He longed to be part of the world he looked out upon each and every day, his longing sometimes too heavy a burden to bear.
Gupta's world was invisible to many, especially the human eye. He wished somebody (him, in particular) would notice it one day.
Eventually, he stepped away from the window and turned his head so he would be unable to see outside. He walked to his bed, dragging his feet heavily, unable to manage a proper step, and hid beneath the silky covers, the numerous pillows of red, purple and gold, allowing himself to be pulled into a deep, dark sleep.
Gupta awoke days later to find the pillows gone and the covers resting comfortably on the lower half of his body. His servant boy, Madu, was hanging curtains in front of his window and dusting them off. Gupta slowly sat up and glared at Madu's back. Shortly, the boy turned around and bowed deeply; his almost touched the floor.
"Mr. Hassan, good morning. Your family came in to see you not an hour ago; they instructed me to put these up for you."
Gupta wanted to ask why, but he kept his lips closed firmly together. He rarely spoke to anybody, only his beloved Gods.
"Is it true that you see things out there? That's what they were saying - all I see is sand. Hey, great view - did you notice the pyramid on the horizon?"
The Egyptian closed his eyes and wanted to fall back onto his pillows (this child was so disrespectful), but he settled for a curt shake of the head. He saw nothing of the red sands, the stone of the pyramids, nor the burning orange of Ra, making his journey into the Underworld.
"Oh, that's strange. What do you see?"
Gupta shrugged. If nobody could see what he did, good. They didn't care for anything else beyond the wooden walls of their prestigious tower anyway. If nobody saw him, even better. He was Gupta's to look at.
"Iceland."
"Hm?"
Gupta shook his head. Madu shook his head and sighed. "I guess there's no point in asking you what you want for your birthday then. I'll tell your family."
The silk sheets were welcoming when he decided to lie down and curl up into a little ball. There's no point in asking me what I want for my birthday, you're right. No one can give me what I want. He closed his eyes in defeat and mourned in peace. Perhaps he could sleep forever and not have to look at what he couldn't have for the rest of his life. He hated being trapped inside his room - he had no choices in life; his family constantly worried for his wellbeing. They didn't want him to get heat stroke (he even wore protective clothing indoors against his wishes), they didn't want him to be bitten by a cobra (because he would really go outside and look for one and then coax it into biting him) and they didn't want him to have a life outside the tower. They were afraid he would find something else that meant more to him (more to them) than inheriting their lands.
There was a sound from outside and Gupta immediately opened his eyes and climbed out of bed. He drew back the curtains, hoping to tear them down (accidentally of course), and peered out. He was greeted with the familiar world of ice, and it felt as though he could actually breathe again. The door outside his window was ajar, and there he was, peering right into his window with those beautiful eyes, the colour of rare amethysts. The breath he had gained back was stolen right from his lungs once more, but he didn't mind. Those eyes were enough to keep his blood surging through his veins. They were enough to keep him alive.
After countless moments passed, he disappeared and shut the door, and Gupta lost sight of him. It would be enough for at least three days - he could replay the way those inquisitive eyes stared right at him inside his head as many times as he wished, until the image faded, became too distorted to recognise. When that happened, Gupta would go to his window once more to recollect the memory of him for safekeeping.
Gupta Muhammad Hassan was in love with a human - the ice human.
Three days later, it was his birthday. He was lead downstairs where all the servants, his parents and a few others that he had no desire to care about. It was a rather large party, and Gupta wanted it to end so he could celebrate by sitting at his window all day long, waiting, hoping and wishing that he would be able to see him just once more.
"Happy Birthday, Gupta my darling. The Pharaoh sends his best wishes and a gift. What an honour." His mother, tall, all arms and angles, draped in pure white garments, motioned for a servant to bring forth the Pharaoh's gift. It was an exquisite box, gold and silver, studded with lapis lazuli. His stomach twisted in guilt that he couldn't be more honoured, happier about his gift. It was from the most powerful man in the country, after all; yet what could he do with a box? Put meaningless things inside? Perhaps he could use it as a special canopic jar and put his heart inside, even though it was completely unheard of, so he could live without feeling. Perhaps then he would venture out of his room and speak with his parents - he would be everything they wanted him to be. Lifeless, malleable, mechanical.
Soulless.
Once the last gifts had been laid before his feet, everyone left the room to go to the feasting hall. Gupta said he would like to stay and pray to the Gods for a little before eating. He wanted to throw the gifts away, he didn't want or deserve them - he could send them on a raft down the Nile and perhaps some poor farmer would find them so he could sell them and have a better life. Gupta wouldn't feel bad about that in the slightest.
"I have a gift for you."
The Egyptian looked up, startled, to see a pale man in a green uniform. He had short blond hair and eyebrows as large and as black as scarabs. He definitely was not from around here.
"How...?" Gupta asked softly. He didn't look as though he had any gift for him. His hands were empty, clasped in front of him in a casual manner.
"Never mind that. I've always wanted to visit this place but I've always been so bloody busy of late and never get to travel. Now I finally have the time. Some of my...friends told me that somebody was in need of my magic - do you have a wish, my lad?"
"Yes." What do you know of my wishes, strange man?
"Instead of a gift, I'm going to grant you one of your wishes. I'm excellent at magic, you know. Hexes, spells, jinxes, anything."
Gupta shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He only had one wish; it was an unreachable, untouchable dream that consumed him. He wanted to go to the ice Palace to be with him. To be with Iceland.
"Hey you! What are you doing in here?!"
His parents burst into the room and suddenly there was no question of hesitation. He would have to close his eyes and take the leap, he would have to trust the wizard-stranger - he couldn't pass through this life without finding out whether he could have had the chance to be truly happy.
"Please - I wish to go to the Kingdom of Iceland."
The stranger made some bizarre hand gestures and spoke some words (they actually rhymed) that sounded like no other language in the world. His parents cried out, don't do anything stupid, but the magic had been cast.
"The spell will break when the days of Autumn arrive. You have one month."
There was a bright flash of indefinable colour and then darkness. Gupta couldn't feel at all, but there was a sense of movement, a sense of anticipation - something had happened, something had begun.
Sveinn stormed down the hallways, wiping at his eyes furiously. An unusually frantic Eirik was at his heels.
"Please, Iceland. I know the King of Denmark is an arrogant prick but please, go back in there and wait. You don't have to speak to him or anybody."
"No! I hate him - I cannot and will not marry somebody like him. The Kingdom can fall for all I care. Both of our Kingdoms can fall."
Iceland went to his room and fell onto his bed, refusing to look at his brother. I wish it would all go away.
"You don't mean that. This is your home, isn't it? There's people here who do love and care about you - we all want what's best for you. Being united with one of the largest powers in the North is what's best for you."
The Prince turned over and studied Eirik for a few moments, standing by the foot of his bed. His mouth was set in a straight line, yet he could see the frown in his eyes; he could see the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallowed uncomfortably.
"You don't want me to have Denmark, Stóri bróðir. It's alright, don't say anything. I wouldn't take that from you - I love you."
"I love you, too," Norway replied softly, a small smile now on his face.
Sveinn started to cry but stretched and yawned to pretend the tears were from that rather than anything else. It still made him feel so warm when he heard those words from him - it was the only other comfort he had in the Palace - and he couldn't help but be overwhelmed. He felt the fatigue laze it's way into his bones, and he knew he would have to refuse Denmark. It was a daunting task, but he would rather face one million Denmarks than break his beloved older brother's heart. Some people could probably put their Kingdom before the feelings of others, their own feelings, but Sveinn was not one of those people. The Prince sat up and shuffled to the end of his bed so he could wrap his arms around Eirik. What he really needed to do was immerse himself in solitude for a while.
"I think it's time for bed," Iceland said evenly. "It's been a big day. Will you tell Denmark to stay just one more evening? I'll speak to him tomorrow morning."
"You're going to refuse him? Is that definitely your decision?" His voice was concerned but Sveinn picked up the hint of relief, of anxiousness. He nodded against his brother's chest.
"Of course it is. You'll be able to comfort him when I inform him of my decision."
"...Sly thing."
Once Eirik left his room, Iceland closed his eyes for a while until he was sure that everyone was sleeping, too stubborn to let sleep come. Quietly, he climbed out of bed, opened the door slowly, holding his breath. He crept down the hallway, pausing every few seconds to make sure the noises he heard were just in his head. Finally, he reached the foot of the stairs and started to ascend them cautiously. When he reached the top, he crept down until he found the fifth door on the right. He ran his tongue along his lower lip in anticipation as he twisted the doorknob and let himself in. The cold crescent moon cast it's waxing glow through the arch-shaped window, illuminating the small wooden tower on the table; it also drew his attention to a figure on the floor. Sveinn took a small step closer and was shocked to find it was another person- they were curled up on their side, face down towards the floor.
"H-hey, are you alright?" the Prince knelt down beside the person and rolled them onto their back. The scarce light allowed him to see the person's face - it...or he, was a man - and he couldn't help the sharp intake of breath. His skin was rich in colour, much darker in contrast with Iceland's pallid white colouring, and he wondered where this man could have possibly come from. Sveinn put his hands on the sides of his face and immediately flinched, but did not pull away. His skin was so...warm...it was like he was burning. He was so warm, so different to what Iceland was used to. There were only cold people there in the Kingdom - no one to cuddle close to for their warmth.
"Hey..."
Sveinn leant down and put his ear against the stranger's chest to listen for a heartbeat. His ears were greeted with a steady and strong rhythm. He inhaled and he became immersed in the scent of wood and spices - completely foreign to him. He glanced up at the glass table, the tower that sat atop it...impossible.
The man gave a small groan and Iceland promptly removed the cloth headpiece to check for any head injuries. There was a slight graze on his temple, but other than that, he seemed fine. Sveinn placed his hands back where they were, against his cheeks, and studied his face. He was handsome, so different in appearance in comparison to the people of the Kingdom and his country. There was another groan and the stranger's eyes fluttered open. Sveinn was enraptured by the rich brown colour of his irises; there were many varying flecks and shades - they reminded him of the crystals on the chandelier hanging from his bedroom ceiling. Only they were the colour of the finest chocolate in the world.
"You're awake. Um...do you speak Icelandic? Do you understand what I'm saying?"
The stranger's chocolate eyes seemed to shine the more Sveinn spoke. He nodded and started to move before the Prince placed his hands firmly on his shoulders, preventing him from moving further. It seemed he was from the South, but he understood his language. Curious. Strange. Good for now.
"You may have a concussion so try not to move about too much. Will you tell me your name?"
"Gupta Muhammad Hassan."
"That's quite a name - I'm just Sveinn."
Just Sveinn and Gupta Muhammad Hassan remained still and silent for seemingly endless moments. Iceland wanted to put his hands on Gupta's face again, just so he could feel that amazing warmth again, but he resisted. Instead, he helped the other to his feet and lead him slowly back down to his room.
For the first time in his entire life, his bed was actually warm.
The bright glow of the winter sun on his eyelids woke Gupta up the next morning. He was overcome by slight panic when he opened his eyes, as he was expecting to be surrounded by the same dark drapes over his bed, the same red and gold of his bed, dressed in his own sleepwear. He immediately relaxed when he saw the silver-haired male sleeping beside him.
So the stranger's magic had worked, he had granted him his one and only wish. He was able to be with the one he had watched for long weeks, months perhaps; he was able to be with the one he loved.
Sveinn.
Iceland.
The cold morning air played on his skin soothingly - he felt so refreshed, new. Alive. He wanted to embrace the other beside him, but decided against it - it would be a little strange for him if he woke to find himself in the arms of somebody he'd never met before. Gupta settled back down into his pillow and watched as Sveinn's eyes fluttered open. How he adored those eyes. Sleepily, he wished the Egyptian good morning and to Gupta's surprise, he shifted closer and put his hands on his arms and then against his chest. He wondered whether he could feel his heart beating for him, beneath his touch.
"You're so warm. Where is it that you come from?"
Luckily Gupta wasn't one to blush. He didn't want to admit to Sveinn where he was from. It meant that there was somewhere he had to return to at the end of his stay. It meant that he didn't belong there in the Kingdom. He didn't want to admit the truth because what if Sveinn laughed at him, thought he was lying? It was better to be vague, to enjoy the time they had together than delve too deeply into his personal life. Sveinn was his world. There was nothing more to it.
"I'm sorry - is it a bad place? You looked so sad just now."
"It's okay," Egypt murmured, answering both of his questions. "It's lonely sometimes."
"I know how you feel," Iceland said softly. "You have a really nice voice, did you know? You should speak more often - even if it's just to me."
Gupta nodded and smiled. A rare, genuine smile, reserved just for him. He couldn't believe that he was there beside his beloved Sveinn, being touched by him. He had the most contented look upon his face; it was like they were already lovers.
"Your home is so beautiful, Sveinn."
"I see it everyday - it's cold and I'm trapped here. The beauty wears off after the years go by. I want to go to the South where it's sandy and sunny and hot."
The two talked for hours, Iceland more than Egypt, and it was comfortable, it was right. Later, Sveinn showed him the entire Palace and the land surrounding the Palace. He introduced him to his family (his parents were wary to say the least, but Eirik, Norway, was pleasant).
It was the most beautiful place in the entire world - Sveinn was the most beautiful being in the entire world. Gupta wanted to tell him so, but he got tongue tied and commented on the frosted gardens instead.
Three and a half weeks went by so quickly. Everyday they went outside, explored the Palace, slept in the same bed. Sometimes they held one another close - Sveinn wanted to keep his warmth and Gupta wanted to feel his cool skin. He wanted to tell Iceland how much he cherished him, how he was the only thing that made his life worth living, but how could he without hurting himself?
I need more time.
"It will be Autumn in my country soon," Gupta said solemnly one late afternoon. "But it's hard to tell - it doesn't snow and it doesn't grow cold."
"How wonderful," Sveinn sighed. "I'm going to have another year of Winter to look forward to."
He had no idea how lucky he was. Gupta didn't think he could survive another year of hot winds and sand burn. He didn't think he could survive another year without Sveinn. Another decade without him.
"I'm going to shower, so wait for me."
"Of course."
The Egyptian didn't wait. He hurried downstairs and ran outside into the frost covered garden. He prayed to the Gods that he could stay. How will I go on if I have to go back? I get so little out of life; I just want this one thing for myself to last.
A dangerously chilled wind blew past him, cutting right into his very core. He loved the Kingdom of Iceland, he was at home here.
"Gupta!" A pair of desperate arms wrapped themselves around his waist. "What were you thinking? You'll freeze out here."
He allowed Sveinn to pull him back inside - he took one last glance over his shoulder at the frozen dream land before the door closed. He knew he would never see it's beauty after tonight.
There were worried tears swimming in Iceland's eyes; his lips quivered, and Egypt's heart cracked like ice buckling, caused by a sudden change of temperature. He realised they were from two different worlds. Freezing cold and boiling hot. They could not survive side by side.
Crystalline tears fell from silver lashes, and Gupta was quick to wipe them away with his thumb. Sveinn leaned into his touch and his pleading eyes watched him intently. Gupta leaned down and captured his lips in a searing kiss. Their lips moved as one, their tongues twined in a passionate dance. It was an inexperienced connection on both their parts, but it was the best thing Gupta had ever felt. Soon they tapered off into a series of more chaste kisses, though they were no less desperate, no less affectionate.
"Do you remember those white flowers in the garden? Your favourite ones?" Iceland asked in a whisper, looking up at Gupta, his amethyst eyes burning into his own.
He nodded. "Mountain avens." He brushed the silver tresses off Sveinn's brow and traced his fingers delicately down his jaw until they rested against his collarbone.
"Pretend I'm one of those...reap me."
Their bodies, movements, breaths and caresses melted together until they were one being. Iceland told Egypt that he didn't want him to move. Stay inside me, don't leave. And he didn't. They laid together, their limbs locked around one another, too afraid that what they had would disappear if they shifted even slightly. Gupta couldn't keep his eyes open for longer than half an hour; Sveinn had already fallen asleep. I've always loved you, Gupta confessed to the nape of his neck, hating himself for letting it fall on deaf ears.
In the morning, he found himself in his bed of red and gold. In vain he searched for Sveinn, but he knew the dream had vanished, the spell had been broken. His wish had expired. Autumn had come.
Iceland called Eirik into his bedroom and the two spent the entire day locked away - Sveinn cried until he was sure there was nothing left of him.
He didn't want to leave you.
I know.
Did you love him?
So much that it hurt. I think I always will love him, Stóri bróðir.
"How does it feel to know ya related to Norge?" Denmark nudged Iceland in the ribs.
"Quit it. He'll be a great brother."
"Ha. Not likely. He's a tight arse."
The Nordics made their way into the conference hall. Of course, they were on time. They took their seats, ordered their papers and waited for the meeting to begin. Iceland's gaze wandered about the room, taking in the faces of each nation. He paused his scan when his eyes fell upon a dark skinned nation sitting across from him. He had rich eyes, the colour of chocolate. The finest chocolate in the world. His heart seemed to twist inside his chest - the nation opposite him seemed to be fixated with watching him too.
The duration of the meeting dragged on forever. Iceland could not seem to calm his nerves. Once Germany announced the meeting was over for the day, Iceland hurried out of his chair and went to the bathroom to wash his face. He couldn't get those intense eyes out of his mind - what the hell was wrong with him?
The bathroom door creaked open and Iceland straightened himself up.
It was him. He regarded him with a small smile, but there was that look in his eyes again.
Misplaced familiarity.
"I'm Iceland," Iceland blurted rather stupidly. He held out his hand and the other shook it warmly.
"Egypt."
The shake had ended, and they were left holding hands, neither one making the move to move. It felt like he'd touched this nation before...but he never had.
"It's nice to meet you."
"Yes, you too. Sorry," Iceland released his hand and the appendage felt useless. He didn't know what to do with it, so he lowered his arm so it rested down by his side. "I had a weird case of...never mind. Nice meeting you." With that, he turned and left the bathroom.
There will be another meeting, I will see him again. Perhaps I'll ask him his name. Perhaps I'll get to know why I feel so strange, why my heart's beating so fast, why there's tears in my eyes and why I feel like I'm about to lose something important.