[fanfic] Homecoming
Title: Homecoming
Author/Artist: me
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Denmark/Norway, Iceland
Rating: G?
Warnings: None?
Summary: Denmark comes home from a viking raid to find a shocking surprise.
The late autumn winds were blowing almost every day now and the cold was nearly tangible in the air. The dry earth, pebbles and old leaves - the last ones to have fallen off the trees - crunched under his booted feet as the tall northerner made his way up to the house. One big sack thrown over one shoulder and his trusted axe in the other, partly used as a walking staff, in his other hand, the man didn’t look much different from when he left. Well, except for some of the clothing on his person. A fine fur scarf, great for keeping the throat warm in the coming winter, rested on his shoulders and a dove purple tunic, much softer to the touch than any of the materials they could easily get hold of up here, covered his torso.
Stopping for a moment, he stared up at the main building on his estate. Nothing had changed here. He gave the familiar façade a lopsided smile. Great. At least he knew what to expect on the other side of the door then, he thought to himself as he opened the sturdy piece of oak and went in.
“Heeey! I’m back,” Denmark called as he closed the door on the chill behind him.
“Ah, welcome back,” Norway’s voice was muffled and he could hear the other move further inside the half-lit building. The daylight was dying more and more outside and twilight was arriving earlier and earlier. A sign of winter. Denmark could make out the shape of the other making his way over to the entrance.
“The raid went fantastic, you know. We got hold of some really good things,” Denmark said as he turned and left his axe to rest against a wall. Dropping his sack beside it on the floor as well. “I was a bit disappointed that you didn’t meet me down at the shore though.” The taller nation decided that a bit of whining at his partner (every now and then) wasn’t too out of place. Plus, after that long journey, he deserved it. If they’d stayed much longer, they would’ve been forced to stay the winter in the south due to the winter storms making the voyage back to his mainland too risky.
“Yes, yes,” he heard Norway say but was pretty sure there was a muttered “you nagging, ridiculous idiot” at the end too that he wasn’t meant to have heard.
“Hey, don’t be like that.” Denmark complained, turning back around to teach the other a little “lesson”. “I really missed you, you know. The least I deserve after such a long and harsh expedition where I risked my life and health for you is that you come and greet me at the shore like a-AAAAH!?”
Upon turning around and coming face to face, finally (after so many months apart), with Norway, Denmark could only yell in surprise and shock. Denmark’s noise only served to scare the hell out of the poor Norwegian though who jumped at least a step backwards, if not two.
“Gods’ twilight!”Norway swore, covering his heart with a hand and steadying himself with the other on a pillar. “W-what was that for!?” Denmark simply pointed at him as though the other had a limb too much or a different color to his skin than since he last saw him or like he was eight months pregna-no, wait, scratch that. Norway was a guy, he couldn’t get pregnant. Besides, he was a nation. It didn’t work that way with them.
...At least he didn’t think it did.
... ... ... Now he damned well hoped it didn’t! Otherwise Denmark was in SO deep shit that no winter storms would keep him from setting sail again if Norway had any say in it.
“Th-that’s my line! What, in the name of the gods, have you done to your hair!?” Denmark demanded, pointing wildly, with a slightly flailing arm, at Norway’s head. The thinner nation blinked once, confused. And then he understood.
Damn, had forgotten about that.
“I cut it. So what?”
“So what? What do you mean, ‘so what’?! You... You cut your braids! Your pretty, long braids... Why? You know I loved them.” Norway almost said that that was reason enough to justify the action but held the retort back when he saw Denmark’s unhappy face. Alright, he hadn’t done it on purpose. Kind of.
“I cut them,” Norway repeated, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, and then a short pause followed, “...because of Island.”
“Island?” Denmark raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the boy just yet. Where could he-Denmark’s eyes widened a bit and he stopped dead in his small survey of the interior of the house. “You can’t mean that anything ha-?”
“Nothing’s happened,” Norway quickly supplied. A little too quickly for it being just a normal reply. It was a reassurance, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.
“Then...?”
“He just wouldn’t stop hanging in them and calling me mommy,” an embarrassed murmur came from a few steps across. Denmark had to do his uttermost to keep even the slightest sound hinting on a laughter from bursting forth. But it was an effort.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Denmark asked, even though he had heard it.
“Isaidhewouldn’tstophanginginthem!” Norway hissed angrily, arms going to his sides with the hands fisted and looking, for all the world, like Fafnir if Denmark had any say in it.
“I thought I heard something about calling you ‘mommy’.”
“Just shut up!” Norway glared at the other before flipping his head to the side and defiantly recrossing his arms again.
“Well, at least he hasn’t seen you with your hair down, then he would really call you-”
“Danmaaaarrrrk!” Norway had closed the (rather) short distance between them and gripped hold of the other’s tunic in the blink of an eye.
“Hey! Woah! You do look like the prettiest álfr with your hair out. It becomes so wavy and soft,” Denmark cooed, which didn’t really help and murderous stare in Norway’s eyes. “And especially when you’re bathing in the spring in the clearing.” One side of the taller nation’s mouth curled into a smirk when the other stiffened. Despite the dim light, the blush spreading over his high cheekbones was clearly visible. Especially this close. Denmark nearly had to bite his lip to keep his laughter, and other feelings, from showing on his face as that particular memory replayed in his mind. And he was sure it was doing the same in Norway’s head.
“Although, I must say, I did love it when it was up in the twin braids too, you know. They were so handy. Just long enough to tie up your wrists with.” Norway’s flush shot skywards.
“Y-you-!”
More didn’t come out because Denmark had stolen his lips, and perhaps also his breath, in a crushing kiss. While Norway did want to chew the other’s ears off (for obvious reasons), he didn’t fight back. Actually, to anyone who saw it (though he would later deny that, like always... at least out loud) he was returning the gesture pretty passionately himself.
Yes, he had missed (and worried a bit about) the bastard.
OMAKE
“Mommy, mommy! I saw daddy’s ship anchor in the bay!” A short, whitish blond boy yelled as he threw open the door, the heavy, wooden thing seemingly not much trouble for him.
“ICELAND! I’ve told you not to mmph-!?” Norway’s embarrassed and outraged roar was abruptly cut off by something.
“Hey, Iceland!” Denmark called jovially from... wherever he and Norway now were in the dim building. The fact that the sun had come out for a last few hours of daylight and was outlining him in the doorway didn’t really help Iceland to see in the gloom indoors. “That bag just by the door. Why don’t you grab it and look for what I brought with me home for you? And then you could perhaps give the men a hand and show them where to stuff my goods when they come up with it from the ship, aye?” There was a short pause where it sounded like Denmark was trying to keep himself from laughing. “M-mommy and I are a bit busy right now, you see.”
Iceland shone up and quickly grabbed the sack that Denmark had dumped by the entrance earlier that day. “Alright!” he cried happily before dashing out. And taking the door with him, casting the building into a semi-darkness again. He had purposefully ignored the angry muffles that (obviously) were Norway’s.
-----
Why braids? Because of fanworks showing Norway with two braids and he’s already so pretty and delicious, this author couldn’t help herself. XD
álfr - Old Norse, commonly translated as elf. Not a fairy of any kind. I chose the Old Norse over the Danish elver because they’re supposed to be “Old Norse” at the moment.
About winter storms; if you were out raiding in those times, you had to make sure to return home before the autumn/winter storms began to tear at the seas. As I’ve understood it, they were pretty bad stuff and nothing you wanted to sail in, seasoned sailor or not.
Author/Artist: me
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Denmark/Norway, Iceland
Rating: G?
Warnings: None?
Summary: Denmark comes home from a viking raid to find a shocking surprise.
The late autumn winds were blowing almost every day now and the cold was nearly tangible in the air. The dry earth, pebbles and old leaves - the last ones to have fallen off the trees - crunched under his booted feet as the tall northerner made his way up to the house. One big sack thrown over one shoulder and his trusted axe in the other, partly used as a walking staff, in his other hand, the man didn’t look much different from when he left. Well, except for some of the clothing on his person. A fine fur scarf, great for keeping the throat warm in the coming winter, rested on his shoulders and a dove purple tunic, much softer to the touch than any of the materials they could easily get hold of up here, covered his torso.
Stopping for a moment, he stared up at the main building on his estate. Nothing had changed here. He gave the familiar façade a lopsided smile. Great. At least he knew what to expect on the other side of the door then, he thought to himself as he opened the sturdy piece of oak and went in.
“Heeey! I’m back,” Denmark called as he closed the door on the chill behind him.
“Ah, welcome back,” Norway’s voice was muffled and he could hear the other move further inside the half-lit building. The daylight was dying more and more outside and twilight was arriving earlier and earlier. A sign of winter. Denmark could make out the shape of the other making his way over to the entrance.
“The raid went fantastic, you know. We got hold of some really good things,” Denmark said as he turned and left his axe to rest against a wall. Dropping his sack beside it on the floor as well. “I was a bit disappointed that you didn’t meet me down at the shore though.” The taller nation decided that a bit of whining at his partner (every now and then) wasn’t too out of place. Plus, after that long journey, he deserved it. If they’d stayed much longer, they would’ve been forced to stay the winter in the south due to the winter storms making the voyage back to his mainland too risky.
“Yes, yes,” he heard Norway say but was pretty sure there was a muttered “you nagging, ridiculous idiot” at the end too that he wasn’t meant to have heard.
“Hey, don’t be like that.” Denmark complained, turning back around to teach the other a little “lesson”. “I really missed you, you know. The least I deserve after such a long and harsh expedition where I risked my life and health for you is that you come and greet me at the shore like a-AAAAH!?”
Upon turning around and coming face to face, finally (after so many months apart), with Norway, Denmark could only yell in surprise and shock. Denmark’s noise only served to scare the hell out of the poor Norwegian though who jumped at least a step backwards, if not two.
“Gods’ twilight!”Norway swore, covering his heart with a hand and steadying himself with the other on a pillar. “W-what was that for!?” Denmark simply pointed at him as though the other had a limb too much or a different color to his skin than since he last saw him or like he was eight months pregna-no, wait, scratch that. Norway was a guy, he couldn’t get pregnant. Besides, he was a nation. It didn’t work that way with them.
...At least he didn’t think it did.
... ... ... Now he damned well hoped it didn’t! Otherwise Denmark was in SO deep shit that no winter storms would keep him from setting sail again if Norway had any say in it.
“Th-that’s my line! What, in the name of the gods, have you done to your hair!?” Denmark demanded, pointing wildly, with a slightly flailing arm, at Norway’s head. The thinner nation blinked once, confused. And then he understood.
Damn, had forgotten about that.
“I cut it. So what?”
“So what? What do you mean, ‘so what’?! You... You cut your braids! Your pretty, long braids... Why? You know I loved them.” Norway almost said that that was reason enough to justify the action but held the retort back when he saw Denmark’s unhappy face. Alright, he hadn’t done it on purpose. Kind of.
“I cut them,” Norway repeated, looking away and crossing his arms over his chest, and then a short pause followed, “...because of Island.”
“Island?” Denmark raised an eyebrow, puzzled. Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen the boy just yet. Where could he-Denmark’s eyes widened a bit and he stopped dead in his small survey of the interior of the house. “You can’t mean that anything ha-?”
“Nothing’s happened,” Norway quickly supplied. A little too quickly for it being just a normal reply. It was a reassurance, even if he wouldn’t admit it to himself.
“Then...?”
“He just wouldn’t stop hanging in them and calling me mommy,” an embarrassed murmur came from a few steps across. Denmark had to do his uttermost to keep even the slightest sound hinting on a laughter from bursting forth. But it was an effort.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Denmark asked, even though he had heard it.
“Isaidhewouldn’tstophanginginthem!” Norway hissed angrily, arms going to his sides with the hands fisted and looking, for all the world, like Fafnir if Denmark had any say in it.
“I thought I heard something about calling you ‘mommy’.”
“Just shut up!” Norway glared at the other before flipping his head to the side and defiantly recrossing his arms again.
“Well, at least he hasn’t seen you with your hair down, then he would really call you-”
“Danmaaaarrrrk!” Norway had closed the (rather) short distance between them and gripped hold of the other’s tunic in the blink of an eye.
“Hey! Woah! You do look like the prettiest álfr with your hair out. It becomes so wavy and soft,” Denmark cooed, which didn’t really help and murderous stare in Norway’s eyes. “And especially when you’re bathing in the spring in the clearing.” One side of the taller nation’s mouth curled into a smirk when the other stiffened. Despite the dim light, the blush spreading over his high cheekbones was clearly visible. Especially this close. Denmark nearly had to bite his lip to keep his laughter, and other feelings, from showing on his face as that particular memory replayed in his mind. And he was sure it was doing the same in Norway’s head.
“Although, I must say, I did love it when it was up in the twin braids too, you know. They were so handy. Just long enough to tie up your wrists with.” Norway’s flush shot skywards.
“Y-you-!”
More didn’t come out because Denmark had stolen his lips, and perhaps also his breath, in a crushing kiss. While Norway did want to chew the other’s ears off (for obvious reasons), he didn’t fight back. Actually, to anyone who saw it (though he would later deny that, like always... at least out loud) he was returning the gesture pretty passionately himself.
Yes, he had missed (and worried a bit about) the bastard.
OMAKE
“Mommy, mommy! I saw daddy’s ship anchor in the bay!” A short, whitish blond boy yelled as he threw open the door, the heavy, wooden thing seemingly not much trouble for him.
“ICELAND! I’ve told you not to mmph-!?” Norway’s embarrassed and outraged roar was abruptly cut off by something.
“Hey, Iceland!” Denmark called jovially from... wherever he and Norway now were in the dim building. The fact that the sun had come out for a last few hours of daylight and was outlining him in the doorway didn’t really help Iceland to see in the gloom indoors. “That bag just by the door. Why don’t you grab it and look for what I brought with me home for you? And then you could perhaps give the men a hand and show them where to stuff my goods when they come up with it from the ship, aye?” There was a short pause where it sounded like Denmark was trying to keep himself from laughing. “M-mommy and I are a bit busy right now, you see.”
Iceland shone up and quickly grabbed the sack that Denmark had dumped by the entrance earlier that day. “Alright!” he cried happily before dashing out. And taking the door with him, casting the building into a semi-darkness again. He had purposefully ignored the angry muffles that (obviously) were Norway’s.
-----
Why braids? Because of fanworks showing Norway with two braids and he’s already so pretty and delicious, this author couldn’t help herself. XD
álfr - Old Norse, commonly translated as elf. Not a fairy of any kind. I chose the Old Norse over the Danish elver because they’re supposed to be “Old Norse” at the moment.
About winter storms; if you were out raiding in those times, you had to make sure to return home before the autumn/winter storms began to tear at the seas. As I’ve understood it, they were pretty bad stuff and nothing you wanted to sail in, seasoned sailor or not.