A/N: ...Hi.
So, warnings. It gets a little steamy at the end. Nothing much, but there is some faint steam. Also, it's Seme!Norway and Uke!Denmark, which is weird cuz I usually picture it the other way around. Also, the information on Scandinavian folklore is all from Wikipedia. Take warning.
Chapter 7: Norway:Magic/Folklore
DenmarkXNorway
Norway breathed in the scent of the sea. His fairy friend tittered next to him. Norway turned to the little puff-ball creature and cracked a hint of a smile before turning back to the water. He stood on Denmark's shores and was waiting for the man himself. Norway sighed huffily. Stupid Dane. Always late.
Norway hoped the moron would be wearing a tie when he saw him. He could always use a good disciplinary choking, Mathias could.
Norway frowned. This place...felt...off. It almost felt like home, but that couldn't be right. Norway's house had a very distinct feel in the air from all the magic lingering and hiding in his land. The air always felt slightly heavy, like there was something in it that was weighing it down. Norway always felt uncomfortably naked whenever he went anywhere else, because the atmosphere always lacked that feel, except for England and his beloved little brother's house of course.
And oddly enough, America's house was just as horrible as the rest of the world, but not because it lacked the magic in the air, but because there was simply too much. It was suffocating there, especially in New York.
Norway knew it was impossible, but the last time he was there, he could've sworn that he saw a fucking Pegasus galloping over the Manhattan skyline, but that was impossible. He had just arrived by plane, and was probably hallucinating because of jet lag or something.
Anyway.
Norway closed his eyes and simply inhaled. Exhaled. Yes, there was definitely something like home in the air here. Like there was-
"LUUUUUUUKKKKKKKAAAAAAASSSSS!" Violet blue eyes snapped open and the Norwegian growled to himself, hand twitching as if pulling the end of an invisible neck tie. Oh yes, Mathias definitely needed a good choke.
"Mathias." Lukas said as the cheerful Dane bounded up to him happily. "Luuukkkassss~" was Denmark's reply, and the Nordic nation flashed his irritated fellow a sunny too-big smile. His fair hair flopped as he leaned forward, and Lukas inwardly scowled at the Dane's unintentional flaunting of his superior height. Bastard. "Hi!"
…
"Yes, hello." Norway said after a slight pause. "Why did you call me here?"
"To say hi!"
"...
You called me and made me come all the way over here, to say hi?"
"Well yeah! I missed you Norge!"
...You've got to be kidding me.
"So...Norge... did...you-ack! ...miss me?" Denmark cheerfully gasped as Norway strangled him with the tie Denmark was wearing. Norway didn't answer, because then he would have to confess that he actually did miss Denmark, and only narrowed his eyes. "No." He lied. Denmark whined. "Noooorrrrgggeeeee! Why?!"
"Because you're annoying." Norway replied, finally releasing the Dane and turned away as the slightly more disgruntled nation fixed his thin black neck wear. He didn't turn back, hoping Denmark wouldn't see the small pleased blush on his face. He couldn't let the moron know he cared after all.
"Let's go for a walk Norge!"
Dear God...
His troll laughed at him.
Jackass.
The pair walked along the beach. Well, Norway walked, still pondering the feel of magic in the air and wondering why the hell it was there. Denmark was bounding along, occasionally picking up shells and happily exclaiming over them and collecting them in his jacket which he was using as a makeshift bag. Norway rolled his eyes. Denmark always did that whenever he went to a beach, even when they were just kids and Scandinavia was still looking over them. Norway remembered fondly how his mother used to slap Denmark on the head whenever he did something stupid.
(Scandinavia didn't take shit from no one, not ever her own (adopted) spawn. It was a trait she got from hanging around Germaina too much)
"Norge! Norge! Isn't this one pretty?" Norway stared at the classic shaped shell in Denmark's hands. It was a rough sandy color, but was actually quite smooth. Norway watched Denmark rub it furiously with his hastily unrolled red sleeve till it shone in the gray sunlight. "I suppose."
"Oh good! That means the girls will like it!"
...What?
"What?" Norway said confused, but Denmark was already prancing ahead, his bundle of shells in his arms. Norway followed him, still utterly puzzled when Denmark skipped around a corner and Norway heard his voice call out, "Hi Ladies! Guess who's back?"
Norway's eyebrow twitched when he heard girlish laughter and cheers presumably returning the Dane's greeting.
Norway stormed around the corner, ready to strangled the crap out of Denmark once more before he stopped and stared. Stared some more. Tilted his head to the side in befuddlement, before smacking his cheek a bit to confirm he wasn't dreaming. He wasn't.
"Aren't they pretty, girls?" The ladies gathered around Denmark cooed over the shells in his arms as he laughed boisterously. The youngest looking one picked a small twisted one and giggled, her tail slapping the side of the rock she sat upon.
Mermaids. They were all mermaids.
There were five assembled on the rocks, all with golden hair, big expressive eyes, and smooth pale skin.
And huge breasts barely covered by their long wavy locks. Figures.
Norway felt his troll friend, and his puff-ball chum, vanish, leaving him alone with Denmark and five beautiful fish women. Norway hesitated, before squaring his shoulders and, feeling uncharacteristically nervous, walked over to the bunch. "Denmark." Denmark turned a grinned an even larger grin at him, causing Norway to inwardly smirk, mentally telling the gorgeous women to suck it. "Norge! Meet the girls! Girls, this is Norge!" The mermaids tittered at him, some giggling behind their hands, others looking at him suspiciously. Only one actually greeted him; the youngest gave a little wave. Norway nodded back, and the girl blushed prettily. Norway stared at the group stonily and awkwardly as Denmark made loud idle chit-chat with the mermaids, laughing happily as they sprayed him with sea water when the girls teasingly flicked their tails in his directions.
"Tell us stories of your surface magic, Danmark!"
"Yes! Tell! Tell!" The rest chanted happily, clapping their hands eagerly, leaning forward and exposing more of their bare chests. Norway resisted the urge to face palm. He hadn't seen mermaids in a while, they had left his shores a long time ago, but he did not remember them being this vapid.
(In reality, the fish women usually acted like regular girls, excluding a few eccentric habits that were Atlantis exclusive. However, while they were the kinder breed of mermaid, they were mischievous beings and could see the unresolved sexual tension and love between the two men, especially on the strange more feminine looking one's part. Screwing with his pretty platinum blond head was extremely fun)
Denmark then launched into an old story about the Ellepiger, who were Danish alder tree girls that danced at night and enchanted innocent men into dancing with them, only for said men to never join the living again. As Denmark told the tale in exquisite detail, Norway stood stiffly. This was awkward. Yes, he always berated Denmark on not honoring their roots and folklore, but now that Denmark was, Norway was uncomfortable. Norway was tense. Norway decided firmly that he should, under no circumstances whatsoever, not find Denmark talking about mystical and supernatural beings this hot. It was absurd. And yet, here he was, sweating slightly under his collar, wanting nothing more than to drag Denmark back to the car and do...things to him. Things that he remembered sternly lecturing a young Iceland to never ever (under the penalty of disease and potential pregnancy) do.
(Of course, in Norway's modern opinion, it was now just under the penalty of disease because he was pretty sure Iceland was gay for that Hong Kong kid.
(Neither Iceland nor Hong Kong get why everyone automatically assumes they're gay for each other. They just like hanging out and reading and blowing stuff up (Iceland liked it for the fire, Hong Kong just liked loud noises and explosions). They acutely blame Hungary for spreading rumors that they were gay for the most part))
Norway endured this for about ten more minutes before Denmark started educating the young ladies on Scandinavian trolls. Well. Okay then, that was enough.
"Denmark." Denmark turned to Norway with an easy grin, totally oblivious on how much he was turning his fellow Nordic on. "Yeah?"
"Say goodbye to your...friends," Norway said curtly, "We're leaving now." Denmark blinked. "Eh? Why-?"
"WE'RE. LEAVING. NOW." Denmark gulped slightly. "O-okay, Norge." He managed with a slight squeak, utterly baffled at the sudden change in behavior (and kinda turned on by the sudden authority in Norway's voice). "Uh, bye-" He said feebly, giving a tiny wave to the snickering mermaids, before being dragged off and feeling like he was seriously missing something. Norway dragged the confused, and now also turned on, Dane along the shore to the rental car Norway had (Denmark used his bike to get to the beach). Norway clicked the door open with the little remote attached to the key chain as he approached the standard silver vehicle, strode up to the backseat car door, and shoved the poor, puzzled and now seriously aroused nation into the car. Denmark landed with a slight grunt, his back pressed against the leather seats that stank of overused sterile cleaning products. His nose wrinkled (in a way that Norway found ridiculously adorable, not that'd he'd ever say it) at the rental car smell before his eyes widened comically and a bright blush spread across his face as Norway promptly climbed in after him.
"N-Norge?" Norway closed the door behind him, and locked the car. "Wh-What are you- ahhhh" The question cut off with a loud moan as Norway climbed over him and straddled his hips and placed his pale hands on both side of Denmark's head, pinning him in place. Norway took a moment to admire how the Dane's fair hair and complexion stood stark against the black seat and how the blood-red shirt that hung loosely off his muscular frame gave the cutely confused man an edge of sex. "Listen carefully, Danmark," Norway murmured against his throat, smirking as he felt said throat swallow heavily, "You are going to keep talking about trolls-"
"Huh?"
"And we are going to have hot car sex that will have you limping for the next day or so. Understood?"
The Norwegian got a small whimper in reply. Said Norwegian let a gleam of satisfaction shine in his normally dull eyes and tugged Denmark forward in a bruising kiss with the Danish man's tie. Another desperate whimper, accompanied by large hands tangling in fair hair.
"Now, you were saying?"
A/N: There it is.
Scandinavia would be a caring mother, but not doting. All about the tough love, can't raise Vikings with doting.
Iceland and Hong Kong in my headcannon are bros, but everyone around them thinks they're gay for each other because they don't have a lot of other friends so they hang out together to the point where they have guest rooms prepared in their houses. They're the Isolated Island bros (Hong Kong is no longer just an island, but you get the point).
Oh, and Danmark is Denmark in Danish/Norweigan. And if I'm gonna do something about Denmark and folklore it's gonna be mermaids. I mean, come on, how could I not do mermaids? Denmark is where The Little Mermaid comes from!
Review!