100 Days of NorIce
Prompt 37- Mist
MIST (noun): 1. Water in the form of particles floating or falling in the atmosphere at or near the surface of the Earth and approaching the form of rain.
2. Something that obscures understanding.
It had all happened so fast. Norway wouldn't remember much of it later, his memories of that time limited to confusing flashes- too many people, too little people, too many sounds, a deafening silence, too much light, not enough light, screaming, wailing, crying and there is him all jostled up in the midst of it all, a part of his mind not quite comprehending what is going on, and the other knowing exactly what is happening and trying to reject the information.
By the time he is fully aware of his surroundings, he is in a hospital. Someone is talking to him, but their words are not reaching the Nordic. There is the buzz of other people around, background noise. But he wants silence. He wants to be able to think. His head feels fuzzy, like someone has stuffed it full of cotton wool and locked him in a swelteringly hot room. His throat is dry, and very sore. He vaguely remembers a voice screaming and calling out… He swallows thickly (a movement which hurts) as he realises it was his voice.
"Island! Island..!"
"Island…" he mumbles under his breath. His throat hitches, and the room swims in a sickening way as everything becomes sharper, colours seem brighter and everything seems a thousand times louder, deafening him. Norway turns to the nurse that is trying to talk to him. She seems somewhat taken aback at the sudden lucidity of the blond man.
"Where is Eiríkur Steilsson's room?" He demands. His voice could have frozen the world, the nurse thinks, before she catches the question.
"I-I'm sorry, who? Sir, you need to sit down and rest. You had a massive shock and your mind needs time to absorb it-"
"Where is Eiríkur Steilsson's room? Where is my lillebror?"
The nurse gulps at the cold, threatening tone. The man's deep blue eyes bore into her, like he can see through to her soul. "R-r-room 182." She stutters, closing her eyes at the sight of the mysterious young man with the soulless eyes and emotionless face, who scares her more than she wants to admit.
When she looks again, the man is gone.
The door to Room 182 slams open, admitting Norway into its cold, white confines. His eyes are immediately drawn to the hunched figure on the bed.
"Island?"
His lillebror doesn't look up, instead hunching lower, drawing his knees closer to his chest. Iceland looks so pale, so small in the middle of the stark hospital bed, it wrenches at Norway's heart. He moves closer, now standing at the edge of the bed, carefully watching his lillebror's mostly hidden face. Iceland's silver hair hangs down messily, some dirt streaked through it. His posture is defensive, lithe arms curling around his legs and hunching over to hide his face in his knees.
"My Prime Minister's already been in." Iceland says suddenly.
"Have they?" Norway asks, slightly startled by the abrupt statement.
"Já," here Iceland hesitates, before continuing. "They said that we'll get them. That they'll regret ever attacking the Lýðveldið ĺsland."
"They will." Norway says surely, stating it as though it was fact. He is sure of it, though. Whoever bombed Reykjavík will be caught, and then they will be tried to the ever most extent of Icelandic law. It was an unprovoked terrorist attack on a mostly neutral nation, one with connections to very powerful ex-Viking nations who would never be so forgiving to someone who would harm one of their own.
Later, the death toll of the attack would reach seven, with over forty injured. A poisonous gas had been in the bomb, but luckily it was a very weak strain- while many were injured, the only ones who died had been in the epicentre of the blast. Unfortunately, while the gas didn't kill anyone, many people's sight was gone, their eyes damaged beyond repair. In Norway's mind, it still didn't change the fact that someone had attacked his lillebror, his secret love interest, someone who was his. Nobody harmed what was his.
Norway tugs Iceland's left hand from the right's clutches and holds it. "Do not worry," he murmurs. "We will get them."
Iceland pulls his hand back, now covering his face with both arms. Norway looks down worriedly.
"Island? Lillebror, what is wrong?"
Iceland refuses to respond, moving his arms tighter around to obscure Norway's view of his face. His older brother kneels down on bed in front of him, carefully grasping Iceland's wrists. "Island? Island, look at me."
Iceland gives a soft sound, trying to stifle it, but unable to completely. It was a cross between a whimper and a sob. Norway's heart beats faster. "Island? Island, please…"
"I-I can't!" Iceland cries out.
Norway pauses. "Cannot what?"
Iceland spoke softly, as if afraid to break the tense atmosphere. "Look at you…"
"What?"
"I can't look at you…"
Norway's heart seemed to be trying to leap free of his chest; a horrible cold feeling seemed to be turning his insides into knots. "Why? Am l so much a failure for being unable to protect you that you cannot even look at me? I am sorry, lillebror. I am so, so sorry-"
"Nei!" Iceland nearly shouts, cutting off his brother. "Nei, it's not you, Noregur…never think that please."
"Then why..?"
Iceland swallows, and withdraws his face from his arms, looking up at Norway. Nothing appeared to be different, at first. Except that Iceland's eyes were closed.
"I-I can't look at you…because I can't see you."
And with that, Iceland opens his eyes to the horrified Norway, revealing unfocused, misted over, deep lilac orbs now unblemished by pupils, staring sightlessly over Norway's shoulder at nothing.
Hello again. Sorry that this was posted later in the day than I wanted it to be, but it's here now. This is the fifth installment of 100 Days of NorIce, 'Mist'! It's back to angst, people! This chapter is also an experiment into using the present tense in a fic- it's harder than it looks!
Thank you to JustMakeLeftTurns who reviewed my last chapter, I'm glad you liked it even if fluff isn't really your thing. Also a thank you to OrangeyPie and Painting Politics and Poland for adding 100 Days of NorIce to their Story Alert lists.
The concept of 'Mist' is that Norway hasn't revealed that he loves Iceland yet, hence why our favourite silver haired island is still only a secret love interest. It's not really obvious, but Iceland already feels the same way and of course hasn't admitted it yet as well. That is why he is so upset at not being able to see Norway for the forseeable future (wouldn't you be too if you could see his handsome face?), fortunately because they're nations, the damage should heal (but that may take anywhere between a few months to a year).
The plot is that a human terroist organisation has attacked Iceland's capital city (I'll let you make up the reason why) while Norway was visiting. Norway reacts. Against the terrorists? Violently.
Of course, 'Lýðveldið ĺsland' means 'Republic of Iceland'.
Read and Review, please!
~Variegata~