I dag...
No one was paying attention and everyone was busy with their own thing: their own skirmish, their own fight, their own licorice. Norway took this time to leave the small room and sneak out for some fresh air. He wondered if the outside was still the same.
Nature wasn't quite as scary-most of the time, anyway—and it was usually silent. He tossed the sheets off and left the room.
Getting out of bed again he almost tripped. His pants drug on the floor and the bottoms were nearly worn out; the stairs weren't easy to climb down. He found his brother in the kitchen and pulled a chair up to the table when he kicked someone underneath. It was the girl from upstairs. To be honest, he wasn't sure if he had dreamt her up or not.
"What's your name? You never finished telling me," he said.
Greenland put a finger to her lips, grabbed Norway's hand, and raced out from under the table to the other room before Denmark could see her.
"Jeg vidste Danmark havde en anden kvindelige koloni. Hvis du vil, kan jeg tage dem til Grønland med mig."
The out-of place boy sat down on the stairs and asked her to repeat herself. She used hand motions this time, like pointing to herself and outlining the shape of a dress, or making a wave with her arm.
Norway was just about to respond when the new girl—he had caught that her namewas Greenland—dashed around the stairs and out the door. She looked back at him with questioning eyes, but he shook his head. The girl didn't speak his language, but he managed to make out that she was another one of Denmark's colonies. She got up, too, and headed for the door.
"Oh and also I'm not-" he yelled, but she had already fled. "a girl."
Why did he only have to realize what she was saying at the last minute? Norway got up to close the sliding door again when he felt scratchy fingers land on his head.
"We won't be seein' her for a few years," squawked Iceland's bird. It's owner came over; Mr. Puffin landed on his arm. Iceland didn't even attempt to say something appropriate.
"It might storm later, so I'm gonna sit her by the fire and, uh, sit." At his younger brother's confused look, he grabbed a book and sat down on the sofa.
"I. sit—" he sat down and patted the spot next to him. "here. Jag sidder."
The white-haired nation held out the book to the person across from him. Following his lead, Norway relaxed on the sofa and gave a nervous smile.
Iceland considered putting an arm around him but ended up throwing the idea out to Mr. Puffin, who perched on his shoulder but switched to the other's. The boy with the hair pin was almost afraid to move, not wanting to provoke the suited bird.
The fire wasn't lit, but Norway's brother just stayed in the moment, glancing around every now and then, watching the snowfall through the window and checking his watch every now and then. And sitting, thinking how hard it was to ever be alone in this house.
Crowding and separating them both on the couch at the same time came Denmark with his new laptop.
Iceland mildly glared; he was use to all the interruptions. The sleek piece of technology sat on his lap, the underside as warm as some of the gloves they had. The Dane tapped his foot in impatience, making the computer wobble unsteadily. He never really did have much patience with the Internet. Right now it was just a blank box on the screen.
Iceland peeked over his shoulder to see, but remained silent.
"Yeah, okay, Ice, today I'm finally ordering you some new licorice so you can lighten up! I'm already getting socks for Finland (We'll see him again eventually.) Is there anything you want, buddy? Norge? Norway?"
The Norwegian looked up from the pictures in his book. Denmark repeated what he said in what he could remember of how he used to talk. Honestly, the older form of his language wasn't terribly important to him, but Norway understood him the most easily out of all his brothers.
"Want anything? What's that?" He leaned over the glowing computer screen, not sure what all the flashing lights were. It was like an epileptic aurora.
"Hurts my eyes."
"Don't look, then." Denmark brought his hand over his younger brother's eyes while continuing to type with the other one. "The magic of E-bay hurts all mortals' eyes," he explained. "And their wallets. Iceland, DENMARK to ICELAND—"
"What? I am paying attention!" His violet gaze was locked on the screen, but it was glazed, which was normal for any computer users.
"Good to know. What kind?"
Mr. Puffin hopped down off the shoulders he'd claimed onto the keyboard. Like many birds, he was heavier than he looked. His feet covered the left region of the keyboard and changed Denmark's Internet page.
Said person shooed him off after he pecked the screen and pressed the back button. The bird had pecked at the black licorice icon, so the Dane was sure that's what he meant. Since when did Ice ever get anything different?
"And now, cute new household addition number Norway, I should probably explain this to you."
He placed the modern technology on the arm of the sofa and placed his younger brother on his lap. The Norwegian immediately slid off onto the floor and looked up instead. The quietest nation moved to the other end of the sofa and calmly pulled some crackers out of his pocket for his pet. The snow still fell silently outside, waiting for the messy-haired country to began. It had no idea why random postman showed up and made unnecessary footprints in it from time to time either.
"This right here, on the screen, is called the Internet. It sends information to other people very far away. Since we Nordics are located in the remote north, sometimes it's easier to tell people to bring us stuff instead of getting it ourselves. And these people have to bring stuff to us. We get to boss them around. Because consumers are awesome and always in control. If you're the consumer, you're so important that you can complain and get people fi—"
"On topic, please," Iceland sighed.
"Right. Well, you place your order, pay for it, and it gets delivered to you right at home."
After retrieving the computer and setting it on his lap, he clicked to the final page of his order. Norway wondered why the border kept changing. The confused child took the opportunity between Denmark's explanations to think. If he had been in his own...time period? Had he really traveled into the future? He wasn't aware magic had that capability. If it did, it wasn't his that had done brothers seemed to have settled down. They hadn't moved in a while, hadn't had to follow animals or run from spirits, and even Denmark was calmer. Usually he was always wanting to play a game outside.
"How much is it?" Iceland handed Denmark a bulky calculator.
"You wanna try, Norge? I feel like you'd be slightly better at math than I am," Denmark said.
"I get that feeling, too, Iceland said. Mr. Penguin nodded as best he could.
The wind roared outside.
"Hey, can you do me a favor, Ice? Go close a window or something. You're so insulting! I can add a couple numbers, I just thought Norway would like to try this hands-on."
Iceland stayed where he was, but started reading off numbers to his brother.
"It's shipping that's the worst. Seks. Fyrre."
The nation with the blue cap hesitated. He knew his numbers, and he saw them on the device, but what was he supposed to do after that? He pressed the six and was surprised when it came up on the screen.
"Where's the 'forty'?"
Iceland typed it in for him and then went back to reading off numbers while Mr. Puffin pecked at Denmark. Norway pressed "enter" and was at a loss when he came up with a large, unreadable number.
"Must be broken," he said.
"Sorry, Norge, but it looks like even Mr. Puffin can use a calculator better than you."
I siste...
The older Norway had built up his confidence just enough to convince himself to try returning to the past. There had been many arguments and Denmark had done everything in his power to interfere with his brother's spells.
He arrived in a snowy field, not sure if he found the right place. The older Norwegian continued walking until he saw a house with smoke pouring out of the chimney. Denmark and Iceland, it turns out, had lit that up the walkway, he saw two familiar figures, smaller than he was used to.
Norway had been curious about the bracelet on Iceland's wrist, so he had taken him out side and showed him how to work a klukka with the aid of a makeshift sundial in the snow. It had taken forever to convince his older brother to come and show him something outside.
"Vel—tid til å fastsette denne," thought the Norway responsible for this whole mess.
His clothes hadn't changed much, had they?
-slut-
Translations:
"Jeg vidste Danmark havde en anden kvindelige koloni. Hvis du vil, kan jeg tage dem til Grønland med mig." (Danish)I didn't know Denmark had another female colony. If you want, I could take you to Greenland with me.
Jeg sidder (Danish). I sit.
Seks fyrre (Danish) six forty
klukka (Icelandic): clock
Vel-tid til å fastsette denne (Norwegian): Well—time to fix this.
Slut (Norwegian): end