Iceland didn't know how to react. Numbness had taken over his body. His mind was racing with so many thoughts. He opened his mouth, but all that came out was garbled babble.

"Is she-" he began.

"Ours?" Sjöfin completed. "Yes."

"What- How-"

"You remember that one night?"

"Which-" Then realization dawned. "Oh."

"Yeah."

"So what's her name?"

"Her given name is Guðrún Islandsdóttir," Sjöfin said. "Make of that what you will."

"Then Guðrún it is," Iceland declared. "Although we'll probably simplify it to Gudrun on Midgard. I am only one of two people who still uses the eth."

"Whatever the case, we're responsible for her now," Sjöfin said. "So what will you teach her?"

"Base Jumping," he said completely seriously until seeing her face. "Kidding," he muttered. "Do we know if she has any, you know… abilities?"

"She's a demigod, so there's a possibility," she said. "Still, the chances are low, and even if she does it's not going to be anything spectacular. Keep in mind that her mother is a relatively minor love goddess, not Odin or Thor."

"I'll keep that in mind, like you told me to," he said. "Hm… I'll teach her how to get by in the Nordic world back home. Concepts such as accepting others, paying taxes, and conducting the occasional Viking raid on some random European nation." Sjöfin nodded in approval.

Iceland picked Guðrún up. She looked at him with big, wide eyes, and tufts of blonde hair were sticking out in random places. "You're my daughter," he said, forming the words that sounded so alien but so wonderful at the same time. "I'm your father, Guðrún." She looked up at him.

"Ísland?"

"That's my name," Iceland said.

"Nafnið þitt er Ísland."

Iceland was impressed. "Did you teach her Icelandic?" he asked Sjöfin. She shook her head in disbelief.

"I'm going to assume she's intelligent. Can you say my name in English?"

"Iceland."

Now he was very surprised. "How?" he breathed. "How do you know?"

"She's a smart girl, Iceland," Sjöfin said. "Were you not expecting that?"

"What?!" he said indignantly. "What are you accusing me of?"

"Nothing," she said, looking at him worriedly. "Calm down, would you?"

He grunted and went back to his child, who was now grasping at his hair. "So how old is she in Midgard years?"

"About 2."

"Ah."

He looked back down at Guðrún, who was now asleep. "Well, I guess that's that for today," he said. "I'm going to bed."

"I'll join you," Sjöfin yawned.

And the new family settled down for their first night of many together.

Iceland woke up the following morning cuddling Sjöfin.

Or so he thought.

"Good morning," he murmured in her ear as he kissed her neck. As his hands slid down her chest, she said, "I think it's in my best interest, as well as yours, to let you know that you're about to commit incest, Dad."

DAD?!

His eyes shot open, and five inches away from him was not Sjöfin, but rather his now teenage daughter Guðrún, who had been two years old the night before.

Iceland screamed. "Guðrún! What happened to you?"

"Welcome to having a demigod as a daughter."

"Wait, who told you about-"

"Me."

He turned around to see Sjöfin sitting quietly off to the side.

"And what are you doing, sitting in the corner?" he asked furiously. "Were you watching?!"

"Aw, shut up," she said, laughing. "It was pretty hilarious."

"Funny that I was going to manhandle my own daughter?"

"Well, when you put it that way…"

"Yeah. Not so funny, is it?"

"Is this seriously how you guys fight?" Guðrún muttered.

"No," said Iceland, calming down. "And put some clothes on."

"What if I don't want to if I don't have to?" Guðrún countered. "What's the matter with not wearing clothes here? Are you uncomfortable with a naked body? Apparently not when it was Mom."

"Guðrún…" Iceland warned.

"Oh, I see! You're uncomfortable with my naked body."

"Yes!"

"Because I'm your daughter."

"Yes!"

"And because you were a warning away from-"

"GUÐRÚN!"

"-incest?"

"What's the matter, honey?" Sjöfin asked. "What's wrong with a little incest? We don't have DNA, so it's perfectly okay…"

"That's all fine and well, but I have DNA!" Iceland said. "And it's a practice that's frowned upon in 99% of Midgardian societies!" He summoned several demons. "Okay, guys, I need you to be clothing for my daughter. There's a storm coming in and she's going to get quite cold." They obeyed, and soon Guðrún was sporting a rather comfortable and warm (and not to mention fashionable) outfit. "Okay, guys, good job. Now Guðrún, there's some things I need to tell you about." She sat.

"You have more family than just us, you know that, right?" She nodded.

"I have one full sister, and two half-siblings. My sister is, well, Sister Iceland. She's a völva. You know what those are, right?" Again, she nodded. "Okay. Now, my half siblings. One's a brother, the other a sister. His name is Norway, and hers is Sister Norway. Nothing godly or even supernatural about them, but they are both the nicest, most patient, and the most compassionate people you will ever meet. They'll be your godparents."

"Will be?"

"I haven't asked them yet."

"Why?"

"I haven't been on Midgard for four and a half months."

"Oh," she said quietly. "Do you have any friends back home?"

He proceeded about the antics of his neighbors and his friends. As he did, Sjöfin got the feeling that this could be more than something that happens then goes away.

This could last a lifetime.

There was a knock on his bedroom door.

"Come in," said Denmark. It was Greenland.

"I'm here partially on my own will and partially because I was bribed to by Sister Sweden," he said.

"Go on," said Denmark, thoroughly confused.

"Sweden says that if you go to Faroes and you properly apologize for your misconduct towards him they'll be willing to lessen your punishment."

That got Denmark's attention. "Excuse me?"

"I said that-"

"I KNOW WHAT YOU SAID!" Denmark bellowed. "THE LITTLE BASTARD WASN'T SUPPOSED TO TELL!"

"Don't kill the messenger," Greenland said. "Also, if you're thinking of carrying through with your blackmail, you should know two things: they have you completely surrounded when it comes to this. They'll know if you do anything. Second: you've driven my best friend to the brink of self-harm, so you can count me out when it comes to helping you."

"What's the punk going to do to me anyway?" Denmark retorted. "He has no power!"

"Oh, he's caught the attention of Sister Iceland and Sister Sweden, and Sweden himself is willing to prosecute you if you do as much as blink at Faroes without consent. They'll drag you in front of the Nordic Council on charges of blackmail, threatening to kill, and hate crimes, all of which you are guilty of. They'll convict you and impose two years of sanctions, as well as other nastiness."

Denmark went quiet.

"That's what he can do to you," Greenland said with deathly calm. He turned tail and left.

"Greenland?" he called.

"Yes?"

"I want to speak with Sweden. Here. In person."

"I'll see what I can do," his colony promised, and then he left.

Not an hour later, Sweden was sitting in a chair while Denmark sluffed in his bed. Sweden was in full lawyer mode, complete with steno pad and more pens than any sane human should have on their person.

"So, you wanted to talk?" he said, completely seriously.

"Yes," Denmark said with no emotion.

"I'm assuming that you want to negotiate your punishment?"

Denmark responded with a curt nod.

"Well, there are a couple of things that you could do. You could apologize to Faroes. That'll knock off six months of sanctions. You could also grant him full independence. That'll knock off that penalty; we're going to enforce that either way. Another is calling a premature election to oust Venstre and its coalition government."

"Now wait just a minute!" Denmark scorned. "I just had one a few months ago, a legitimate one at that!"

"You will call a new one, or face the consequences!"

"It doesn't work that way! That's not democracy! I have a monarchy, but also a constitution! I can't call a new Folketing just because Sweden doesn't like the controlling party!"

"Do you even hear yourself?" Sweden reprimanded. "You're being not yourself! That's what this new government is doing to you!"

"Screw it!" screamed Denmark. "I'm going to face my accuser! Bring on the court!"

Sweden suddenly became very depressed. "Denmark, it doesn't have to come to this," he said sadly. "You have people who care and love you. We don't want this to happen. It can be avoided."

The smaller nation sighed and crumpled up in an apparent nap. Sweden rolled his eyes and said, "Denmark, I know you're tired but we need to continue talking if we're going to get anywhere." But Denmark didn't respond. Instead, he convulsed violently and threw up. Then, an otherworldly voice came from his mouth:

"He is mine. If you want him, prove to me that the world wants him."

And then he disappeared.

That night, Finland dreamed. He did not usually dream.

In it, he was in remarkable pain. He was crawling across the same tundra that he and Estonia had traversed, but she was nowhere to be found.

It continued in this vein for what seemed like hours. And then a familiar voice came from the heavens. "Silly goose, did you think you could escape Tuonela all by yourself?" Estonia chastised playfully. "Look at you, you're all cut-up and bloody!" She wiped him down with a cloth, like he was some sort of car. "There. You're better, for the most part. Let me take care of you, stubborn man!" As it passed like a time-lapse, he saw her carrying him on her shoulders, kissing him goodnight, and dressing his wounds. And then, it ran headlong into the time they were in, and Finland woke up with a start, sitting bolt upright and panting heavily. He looked to his left, and Estonia was sleeping, albeit quite uncomfortably. She was shivering, probably freezing, and all to protect and take care of him. Taking several deep breaths, he laid back down, but this time with Estonia in his embrace.

He looked up at the stars. He couldn't spot any familiar patterns, nor any aurora despite being in the tundra. Given that they were in a mythological realm, he was surprised to see a night sky at all. But there were millions of them, and for once all of his problems seemed to disappear into the vastness of space. He thought about the people of antiquity who based stories on the stars, and the heroes who had come to this realm before and looked at the same night sky. This gave him calm. This gave him peace.

Sweden had called an emergency session of the Nordic Council.

"Denmark's gone," he announced.

"So we've noticed," came a snide Sister Sweden. "Wonder what could've happened to him."

"Hel took him," Sweden said. "At least, I think it was Hel."

"It wasn't Hel," Sister Iceland responded. "I would know."

"Then who the hell possessed and took him?"

"Working on it." She went out of the room to make some calls.

"Great," he said. "Any word on Estonia and Finland? Or Iceland, for that matter?"

"Sweden, I got a tag on Denmark's location!" came Sister Iceland's voice.

"Great! Where?"

"Jotunheim."

"Like the park?"

"No. The Realm itself."

"So you're telling me," Guðrún said, "that in the thousand-plus years of your existence, you've managed to only create one dish that people know you for? And that dish happens to involve fermenting Greenland shark long enough to get the poison out?"

"It's not as bad as you think," Iceland replied meekly.

"It is as bad as I think," she said with disgust. "You need to learn how to cook."

"Are you saying that agriculture is nonexistent on your island?"

"Yes!"

"Sounds like it needs a special touch."

"Could we not have this discussion right now?" grumbled Iceland. "I've got enough to figure out."

"As do we," Sjöfin said. "We're running out of game to hunt, and the wheatfield at the island's north end is nearly out. In other words, we're losing food and fast."

Iceland frowned. "How could that be? I thought that it wasn't supposed to run out."

"I think that the masters of this island may be trying to send us a message," his girlfriend said. "I don't think we were supposed to live here for eternity."

"You think that Odin is trying to kick us off?" Guðrún asked, lashing tree branches together to create extra roofing. "It's certainly possible," said her mother. "Although it seems more like we're trying to be killed. If they wanted us off, the gods would just transport us to Midgard, ja? But cutting off our food is a way to kill us, not get us home. Something's up. I blame Loki."

"Of course you do," Iceland said. "Isn't that the first recourse people up here take when something doesn't go their way? Despite him being chained up to a rock?"

"It's not completely out of the question," she countered. "The Trickster has many servants and spies loyal to him, not to mention that… that…" she balled up her fists and her face grew red, like she was going to spew some awful curse word, but nothing except a very tense exhale. "Slut?" Guðrún finished helpfully. The color drained out of Sjöfin's face. "Yes, dear. That impetuous little harlot he calls his wife."

Sorry for the delay. I was in progress on Chapter Nine and thought I'd give you guys a double-feature. No, that would take too long, so here's Eight. (10/19)