Norway fumbles his way through his contact list, until he lands on the number labeled with a name and about five red heart emojis. His thumb nervously hovers over the call button, mind only full with thoughts of Denmark- of their relationship over the years. He wants so badly to apologize for what happened so long ago, to tell Denmark how important he is to him, to finally tell him that he-
~beeeeeeeep
At the sudden sound he looks down at his phone, now dialing Denmark number. He must've accidentally pressed the call button while lost in thought. The tone stops abruptly, barely before the second tone even starts, and a familiar boisterous voice emanates from the device.
"Hey, Nor!"
Norway hangs up.
He stares at the phone, screen now fading back to black, in anguish. I need to calm down, he thinks, before I let my emotions truly get the best of me. He sets his phone down and pours himself another cup of coffee. Just as he goes to take a refreshing sip, his phone lights up with a notification.
Denmark: Guldklump? Are you alright? I'm heading over.
This was expected, Denmark was fiercely protective of the other Nordics and there was no calling him off once he was worried about them, so responding to the text or calling back would be futile. The only choice Norway really had was to continue reading the letters until the loud blond burst through his door- axe in hand. Perhaps this is for the best,they could talk about this in person.
The old papers were still stacked on the table, there were probably hundreds of them- meaning reading them in order would be a very time consuming and emotionally taxing task to undertake. Norway decides to move to the middle of the stack where he retrieves a letter.
1887
Danmark,
While taking a walk today I came across the strangest boy. He was pale and frail, barely supporting the weight of his own body. When I called for Sverige, he seemed to know this boy since he gave him a room to sleep in. It's so frustrating being confined to this house, not knowing anything about what's going on outside of it. I found out the boy was like us, not only that but Sweden has known him for decades. I can't help but reminisce about the freedom we had in our little cabin, how we could choose the schedule of the day on a whim; all I do here is read, garden and play the violin. Activities that are enjoyable, yes, but would surely drive any man mad if done every day.
Hopefully you're in a better position than I am. I fear if you were to be in my place you would have killed someone out of restlessness, luckily little Island is there to keep you company. May you both be able to move freely in the world, we are viking afterall.
-Norge
"Are you okay?" Norway asks at the ghostly looking boy his age standing before him. The boy says nothing in return and instead falls face first into the dirt, alarmed Norway calls for Sweden.
In seconds, he arrives at the scene shifting his eyes from Norway to the boy then back again before acting. Sweden picks the small boy up and carries him in the house, Norway in tow, and into an empty bedroom. Norway blinks curiously at the look on Sweden's face, which beared a look he used to reserve for anytime Denmark was in trouble.
"A friend of yours, Sve?" Norway asks playfully, when Sweden doesn't reply he rephrases his question, "Is he one of us?"
"Ja. I… I actually lost his territory a few years before you came to stay. He wasn't around when I owned his land though, he only showed up after the land was given to the Russian Empire. They call him Finland but nowadays he's demanding everyone call him Suomi, something about Finnish pride." He finally replies after some thought. Leave it to Sweden to answer every possible question at once and end the conversation. "There's a famine right now in his land, it's pretty bad." He adds.
"A famine…?" Norway questions, this was a lot to take in, there was another person like them, and because of a famine he was sick. He holds his own stomach. All these years he never felt so much as a stomach ache, meaning his people were doing okay which was a relief. However, that was the only information he had on the overall state of the world and he just found it out a few seconds ago.
"I want to be able to leave the house, Sverige." He says with resolve and furrowed brows- an expression far too hard for Norway's delicate face, he was serious much to Sweden's dismay. An idea like that was never going to be allowed by the boss even if they both begged, despite relations with Denmark improving the king was afraid of Norge returning to Danmark and somehow ruining their union. No matter how much Sweden wanted to honor his friends request he knew it was impossible, he did think of another idea though.
"The Boss wouldn't allow that, but I think I can ask for you to at least be allowed newspapers for now on."
"Thank you."
Norway sets the letter back on the table, and runs his fingers through his hair, just as he does this the front door of his house swings open and in runs an axe wielding Dane.
A/n: Sorry it took so long to update, life got a bit crazy! But I plan on finishing the story this year so stay tuned! Thank you for reading!
Also! Key:
Danmark: Denmark
Sverige: Sweden
Norge: Norway
Island: Iceland
Suomi: Finland
