"Let's be friends, Okay?" Iceland/Sealand
Title: Let's be Friends, okay?
Author: Why, that's me!!
Characters/Pairings: Iceland/Sealand, brief Finland and Sweden
Rating: PG
Warnings: Umm... OOC? likely. Cute-ness. Lack of canon. Short.
Iceland sighs as he wanders the rural lands of Norway. He came the day before the Nordic nations were to meet so he could relax with his brother. Unfortunately, Norway had a lot of work to do before the meeting and Iceland left the house to give the blond some peace.
Of course, that left Iceland with a lot of thinking time to himself.
It's not that he finds his brother's company bad, only that he would like more friends. Being and island nation is a little lonely at times, what with no neighbors to share your border. That's not to say that the others aren't friendly, they just have their own way about them. A way that usually involves Sweden claiming Finland as “M' w'fe,” and Denmark obsessing over how he and Norway are such good friends.
“But I know they care about me, so what am I complaining about?” Iceland sighs loudly.
“HEY!!” A child-like voice calls from behind the island nation.
He looks behind him, wondering who the child was calling to, just in time to see a white and blue sailor uniform leap and land on his back, heavy despite it's size. The white-haired nation stumbles to his knees, eyes wide and mouth parted in a silent cry of surprise.
Moments pass and Iceland wonders if the child will get off his back. Another few moments pass before he shifts his weight and the added weight falls off, a shout coming from beside him. Iceland shifts to sit facing the child and curiosity fills him.
The blond boy frowns, rubbing the small of his back as if to ease an ache. For some reason, the boy looks very familiar to the Icelander- perhaps the strange sailor uniform? Or, maybe something like his eyes or face or- those EYEBROWS! There is no one, other than the English nation, who has those eyebrows. Not even England's 'brother,' America has his eyebrows...
“Are you related to England-” Iceland starts, standing up a brushing himself off before offering a hand to the small child.
“You know Jerk-England?!” The boy exclaims, taking the hand and standing up quickly.
The white-haired nation is taken back by the outburst and stares openly. “Not... personally-” He shrugs hesitantly.
“Oh, good. Yeah, I'm just biding my time before that jerk is under MY control!” The child poses proudly, not unlike America.
“I'm Aron...” Iceland nods his head to the nation (he knows England as... England. He must be a nation, right?)
“I'm Peter! It's nice to meet you!” Peter laughs, spreading his arms and running around like and airplane. “Come on, Aron! Come play with me!”
For whatever reason, Iceland decides to humor the boy and follows after, slowly. Peter watches the nation closely until the cold nation spreads his arms out and walks around like a plane. A grin spreads and the two wander from the road into a field. Part of Iceland wonders if there is a camera crew filming them with just how cheesy the open plains look with the two of them running through it with their arms spread out.
Time passes, though not enough to result in a drastic sun-position change, and eventually Peter plops himself on the ground and starts playing with the grass. Iceland watches the boy for a while before turning away and staring out into space.
~~~*~~~
“SEALAND!!” A familiar voice calls from behind the two nations.
Iceland turns around as Peter stops and almost hides behind the older nation. Despite the urge to smile, Iceland just watches as Finland waves from the road. Behind him Sweden stands stoically, watching his 'w'fe.'
“Come on! We're going to be late meeting Norway!” Finland shouts, taking only a couple steps into the field.
“I'm coming!” The blond boy waves back to the couple, matching Finland's steps toward him before pausing.
“Oh, don't forget-” the child nation turns around and faces Iceland, grinning. “I'm Sealand! You're just like me, so let's be friends, okay?”
Iceland stares at the micro-nation, a flood of emotions welling up inside him. The barest of a smile slips over his lips and he nods; “Okay.”
~~~~~~~
Well, I hope that wasn't too painful. Sealand's little "lets be friends" was my inspiration~ I'm so proud of my ending! :3
Author: Why, that's me!!
Characters/Pairings: Iceland/Sealand, brief Finland and Sweden
Rating: PG
Warnings: Umm... OOC? likely. Cute-ness. Lack of canon. Short.
Iceland sighs as he wanders the rural lands of Norway. He came the day before the Nordic nations were to meet so he could relax with his brother. Unfortunately, Norway had a lot of work to do before the meeting and Iceland left the house to give the blond some peace.
Of course, that left Iceland with a lot of thinking time to himself.
It's not that he finds his brother's company bad, only that he would like more friends. Being and island nation is a little lonely at times, what with no neighbors to share your border. That's not to say that the others aren't friendly, they just have their own way about them. A way that usually involves Sweden claiming Finland as “M' w'fe,” and Denmark obsessing over how he and Norway are such good friends.
“But I know they care about me, so what am I complaining about?” Iceland sighs loudly.
“HEY!!” A child-like voice calls from behind the island nation.
He looks behind him, wondering who the child was calling to, just in time to see a white and blue sailor uniform leap and land on his back, heavy despite it's size. The white-haired nation stumbles to his knees, eyes wide and mouth parted in a silent cry of surprise.
Moments pass and Iceland wonders if the child will get off his back. Another few moments pass before he shifts his weight and the added weight falls off, a shout coming from beside him. Iceland shifts to sit facing the child and curiosity fills him.
The blond boy frowns, rubbing the small of his back as if to ease an ache. For some reason, the boy looks very familiar to the Icelander- perhaps the strange sailor uniform? Or, maybe something like his eyes or face or- those EYEBROWS! There is no one, other than the English nation, who has those eyebrows. Not even England's 'brother,' America has his eyebrows...
“Are you related to England-” Iceland starts, standing up a brushing himself off before offering a hand to the small child.
“You know Jerk-England?!” The boy exclaims, taking the hand and standing up quickly.
The white-haired nation is taken back by the outburst and stares openly. “Not... personally-” He shrugs hesitantly.
“Oh, good. Yeah, I'm just biding my time before that jerk is under MY control!” The child poses proudly, not unlike America.
“I'm Aron...” Iceland nods his head to the nation (he knows England as... England. He must be a nation, right?)
“I'm Peter! It's nice to meet you!” Peter laughs, spreading his arms and running around like and airplane. “Come on, Aron! Come play with me!”
For whatever reason, Iceland decides to humor the boy and follows after, slowly. Peter watches the nation closely until the cold nation spreads his arms out and walks around like a plane. A grin spreads and the two wander from the road into a field. Part of Iceland wonders if there is a camera crew filming them with just how cheesy the open plains look with the two of them running through it with their arms spread out.
Time passes, though not enough to result in a drastic sun-position change, and eventually Peter plops himself on the ground and starts playing with the grass. Iceland watches the boy for a while before turning away and staring out into space.
~~~*~~~
“SEALAND!!” A familiar voice calls from behind the two nations.
Iceland turns around as Peter stops and almost hides behind the older nation. Despite the urge to smile, Iceland just watches as Finland waves from the road. Behind him Sweden stands stoically, watching his 'w'fe.'
“Come on! We're going to be late meeting Norway!” Finland shouts, taking only a couple steps into the field.
“I'm coming!” The blond boy waves back to the couple, matching Finland's steps toward him before pausing.
“Oh, don't forget-” the child nation turns around and faces Iceland, grinning. “I'm Sealand! You're just like me, so let's be friends, okay?”
Iceland stares at the micro-nation, a flood of emotions welling up inside him. The barest of a smile slips over his lips and he nods; “Okay.”
~~~~~~~
Well, I hope that wasn't too painful. Sealand's little "lets be friends" was my inspiration~ I'm so proud of my ending! :3