Author owns nothing. Gets nothing for this, except some praise :D
Be advised, I claim no right to ideas/characters/ ect contained herein. I do not claim responsibility for Hetalia, or any affiliated licensed ideas. Yadda yadda.
Based off The Princess Who Always Had to Have the Last Word (Norwegian folk tale)
I own nothing. You know that already. Rated M. I saw requests and I will get to them, I am just typing for a while. Flaws, I have not forgotten the last chapter.
Just... give me time please. Thanks.
OoOoOo
Once upon a time, there were three Micro-nations that wanted to stage a play.
'Why a play?', you might ask? Well, they were very bored Micro-nations and had very little to do that did not involve provoking larger nations. And, so, three bored micro-nations decided it was time to pester a larger nation.
Unfortunately, Iceland was unaware of the goal of the day. And, therefore, did not know to hide when he saw Sealand coming. Though, admittedly, he was curious as to what the boy was doing on his lands.
"Iceland!" Sealand said with a semi-sweet and devilish grin.
"Sealand," Iceland replied quietly, not fond of his accent, as he stared at the micro-nation.
"You're a nice guy, right Iceland?" The blonde boy asked with a faux innocent expression.
Iceland felt instantly suspicious. If he said 'no' it would make him look bad. However, if he said 'yes' then he might be roped into something he didn't want.
He contemplated the lesser of two evils as he blinked into the blue eyes of Sealand. Iceland could not help but notice the striking resemblance to England, that the child bore.
Instead of trapping himself by answering, Iceland chose not to say anything at all. Until his blatant staring with violet eyes became uncomfortable for even Sealand.
"Are you busy today?" Sealand asked after a moment, slightly worried that Iceland was some creep like a few nations he knew. Most of them rhymed with 'glance'.
Iceland shook his head to the negative, wondering where this was going.
The blonde micro-nation was beginning to look put out.
"Want to help us put on a play? For the sake of fun?"
Iceland's face scrunched up in confusion. That sounded strange and silly. Why would they do that? More importantly, what did it have to do with him? He continued to stare at Sealand, mimicking his elder brother in his stoicism.
"You just end up bothering the other nations." Iceland pointed out, refraining from mentioning that Sealand was already bothering him.
"Look, we are tired of being treated like children. I get it," Sealand said turning to glare at the ocean, "we are smaller. But darn it, we are important too. Aren't you tired of that? Being treated like something that always has to be protected?"
Iceland paused. He was about to tell Sealand, that 'no' he did not have that problem.
When the little devil with an angel's face glanced at him balefully. As if he could sense the hesitation and was ready to feed off of it, like a vampire of folklore.
"By the way, how is Norway? Or should I say 'Big brother'?"
It was a blow that went straight through Iceland, and robbed him of his ability to behave as a rational adult. Or nation...
A devious glint entered a pair of wise violet eyes. As they finally met on the same wavelength.
"Go on," Iceland said in all seriousness, as he studied Sealand, as if seeing him for the first time.
OoOoOo
Iceland was always welcomed in Norway's home. His brother had been nearly as insistent about it as Norway could actually be. However, when Iceland had shown up today, unannounced, he was not alone.
The larger nation was sitting in his living room, reading the latest piece of literature to be published by one of his people, when someone sneezed, alerting him to the presence of his guests.
Dull blue eyes lifted from the book, and an almost ghost of a smile appeared at the corners of his mouth, as he noticed Iceland. However, he also noted the three people with his younger brother.
"Greetings," Iceland stated calmly.
"Brother." Norway replied neutrally.
"We are going to put on a play." The younger Nordic said without preamble.
The elder brother did not even blink as he shifted his gaze. Norway blankly watched the micro-nations.
"That explains Seborga," he said in a monotone fashion after a moment. "As well as Sealand, but why is Molossia here?"
His dull blue eyes barely had a moment to notice the glare the brunette was leveling at him.
"You gotta problem?" He demanded gruffly. "I'm here because I wanna be and I don't trust you Europeans around Ms. America."
"America?" Norway questioned blandly while raising a brow. "I haven't seen-"
As if summoned by magic words, the optimistic blonde burst through the door. Her hair was upswept into a ponytail, and her glasses were perched firmly in their usual spot. Norway noticed that her clothing was nearly an exact replica of something a peasant might have worn in his middle ages.
Norway felt uneasy, but glanced from the micro-nations toward America.
"Molossia!" America said happily, nearly bounding on the balls of her feet in her excitement, "the you are. How do I look?"
The Micro-nation flushed as his gaze wandered up and down America's form. His shades hid the nervous look in his eyes. However, Norway caught sight of it easily. The near adoration that shone from Molossia's olive colored eyes.
"You look fantastic, Ms. America."
The female nation beamed at him, as Molossia ducked his head, pretending to find something interesting on the wall.
"Oh you are a dear," America said with obvious pride, and strode over to Molossia, She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. It was fortunate that the sunglasses detracted from the dark flush on the Micro-nation's face.
Her bright blue eyes looked up as she smiled warmly. Her smile shifted, changing to a polite version of her easy-going nature.
"Hi Norway," She said conversationally, "didn't see you there."
The Stoic nation was nearly tempted to snort in disbelief.
"It is my home. How could you not notice me?"
America grinned, showing some bright white teeth. "Wasn't looking at you." She answered blithely.
Norway's face did not change, but the vague sense of a frown etched at the corners of his mouth.
"Why are you in my home?" He asked, keeping to the topic at hand.
The star-spangled nation blinked, and shrugged.
"We are putting on a play." She said with finality, as if she had no idea that had just been stated to him.
Sealand grinned widely behind America, pretending that he wasn't now hiding behind her to escape the cultured wrath of Norway. Iceland was enjoying this, far more than he likely should. The violet eyed nation simply watched, noting that America did not seem the least bit perturbed about upsetting Norway.
Iceland was smart enough to know not to say anything that would cut this short.
"In my home?" Norway asked neutrally. He looked at his brother, but Iceland was staring at America.
"Yes! If this house is your house, then you bet!" America said with a child-like glee, but still exceedingly polite in her tone.
"I must politely refuse."
Her blue eyes widened. "You're refusing your house? Well, if you don't want it..." She trailed off shrugging.
"I did not say that."
"Uh, I think you just did." The Star-spangled nation pointed out with a lop sided grin. "But, hey, thanks for donating it for the arts!"
Sealand snickered quietly into his hand, and Molossia openly smiled. Seborga was preoccupied with trying to see what America was hiding under the modest male clothing. With no success.
Norway stared at her blankly, as if he could not understand how she could not understand what he was saying.
"I am not donating my house. I am asking you to leave."
"Leave? Oh I can't," America demurred with sincerity, "I'm playing the Prince in the play."
His dull blue gaze widened subtly. Against his better judgment, his curiosity grew.
"If you are the Prince, then who is Iceland playing?"
"My brother!" America declared happily, winking at Iceland.
Iceland felt his face flush briefly.
"Your brother?" Norway's voice was still flat as he glance between them. "He is my brother."
"Oh, sure, by marriage." The female nation conceded.
"What?"
"By marriage...Geez, haven't you even read the story yet?" The female nation demanded as she placed her hands on her hips.
"Story?" The Nordic nation repeated blandly, as he felt as if he was spinning his wheels in the snow.
America's lips pursed into a narrow line. "Are you sure he can do this Iceland?" She asked, as she looked to the smaller nation.
His violet eyes betrayed nothing as he nodded slowly.
The star-spangled country shrugged. "Okay dude, if you say so."
Sealand tugged on America's arm, and she leaned down as he whispered something.
"Oh right!" Texas glinted as she turned to Seborga. "You've got the dress, right?"
"Dress?" Norway's monotone voice filtered through the room once more.
America chuckled slightly.
"Yeah dude. Every Princess needs a dress."
Dull blue clashed with bright blue. "Iceland is dressing as a woman?"
"No, I already told you," she said with slight exasperation, "He's supposed to be my brother, and Seborga is my other brother."
"Then Sealand-?"
"Is the father! Bingo dude!"
The stoic Nordic nation closed his book, and looked at America carefully.
"And the Princess would be me?"
"Well, if you insist!" America chimed in sweetly.
"You cannot be serious," Norway said, in a way that conveyed his displeasure.
"No buddy," America interjected happily, "I'm playing the 'Ask Lad'. Weird name, by the way." She looked faintly amused.
Iceland covered a round of laughter with a cough. This was, by far and large, the greatest thing he had ever witnessed. Norway was close to showing true emotion. Iceland almost did not know what to make of it.
"Did Iceland pay you to do this?" Norway questioned seriously.
"Pay me? Oh no, I just love the arts. I am doing this for free."
"Free?" Sealand parroted, unexpectedly.
"Well yeah!" The female nation said kindly. "That and Molossia asked me to. So of course I am here."
Norway chose that moment to attempt to leave.
"Are you going to go change?"
The Nordic nation paused. "No."
"No? Oh, I see, you forgot the dress."
"I am not-"
"But you already agreed, and because of the wonders of technology, Seborga already has video of you agreeing."
Norway's face was the perfect mask of aloofness. Seborga waved his phone and smiled widely. It was clear that the Micro-nations were not bluffing.
However...
"It is not binding."
"No, it's not," America agreed readily, "But there is the part where you asked to be the Princess, and I have Denmark on speed dial... so...?"
"You wouldn't." The Nordic nation said firmly.
"Norway, dude, come on. We both know I would."
Dull blue clashed with bright blue, and for a single second, Norway waivered. He was forced to hold his tongue, lest she actually show it to Denmark.
"Ah ha!" America cried out in triumph, "I've got you." She declared as she reached and grabbed Norway's arms.
He stared at her, without moving.
"You're mine now." She said with such fiery passion and possessiveness that Norway's heart paused for a moment in time.
Her words were far more potent than anything he had ever read, or tale ever told. Because he fully believed her. So swept up in her words, was he, that a burst of arousal and longing poured over him. To his muted shock and mortification, he felt his knees weaken slightly.
It was far more expressive and heartfelt, her claim over him, than anything he had witnessed in his hundreds of years. Norway's mouth went dry, but his face betrayed nothing. His dull blue eyes took a hard edge to them, as America claimed his mouth in a passionate kiss.
"Okay! Cut!" Sealand chimed out loudly.
America pulled back. There was a low whistle of appreciation.
"How was that?" She asked looking eager for feedback.
Norway blinked in confusion and a lack of the searing kiss he had been experiencing.
"Fantastic! Just like that America, now, as soon as Norway get's in the dress-"
"All of you; get out." Norway said with wan eerie calmness.
"Come now, Norway, do not spoil the fun," Seborga charmed with a debonair smile.
"Get out." The Nordic nation repeated as he grabbed America's arm and pulled her toward the stairs.
"Hey!" She protested, "What are you doing?!"
"You wanted me," Norway replied in the same monotone voice, but the edges of his mouth tilted upward gently. "In the end of the folk tale you are 'portraying', the Ask lad gets the 'princess', or didn't you read the end of the story?"
The last thing the stunned micro-nations, and Iceland, saw, was America blushing brightly.
Iceland turned toward the others.
"Now would likely be a good time to leave, like he said."
"But Ms. America-" Molossia objected.
"Will be fine." Iceland reprimanded firmly as he ushered the protesting males out of the house.