|A Warm Feeling
Author: smoking-tulips PM
A child he may be in appearance, but Iceland knows more about what's going on than Denmark would like him to know. written for the Nordipalooza fest.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Family/Hurt/Comfort - Denmark & Iceland - Words: 1,755 - Reviews: 6 - Favs: 26 - Follows: 4 - Published: 03-20-12 - Status: Complete - id: 7943209
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A.N: This was written for the Nordipalooza fan-work fest on LJ (and tumblr)
I was given four prompts and this is promt number 4.
Prompt: Iceland, Any Nation - Spring [Optional time period: Kalmar Union] (This fic kinda serves as a prequel to other fics. I suggest reading them in this order: "A Warm Feeling", "I Will Not Bow" and then "Breaking Point")
(This fic kinda serves as a prequel to other fics. I suggest reading them in this order: "A Warm Feeling", "I Will Not Bow" and then "Breaking Point")
"Island!" A distant voice called.
The young nation scoffed and rolled over in the soft grass – ignoring his older brother's calls.
"Island!" the voice sounded once again.
But the nation in question only curled up around himself and hoped the tall grass would hide him.
No such luck.
"There you are! Nor and I were getting worried." Denmark knelt down next to the child with a slight frown on his face.
Iceland huffed and drew his knees up under his chin, thankful for the long and rather thick tunic Norway had put him in. Spring was a lovely time of the year, if not still a little cold – but right now the little nation just wanted to be alone.
"What's the matter?" Denmark's frowned turned into worry as the little white-haired child refused to look at him or speak.
"You shouldn't go so far away from the house you know...you could get hurt," Denmark half scolded, half reasoned.
"So what? Everyone hurts anyway," Iceland finally replied.
Denmark's colour drained from his face and he suddenly felt very nauseous.
Iceland was a lot older than his 5-year old body depicted – but never had Denmark imagined the little nation to be so in tune with what happened around him in their home.
"No one's hurting...," Denmark lied, forcing a smile the best he could.
"Yeah, they are. Nor has bruises. Uncle Sve was limping yesterday... and you're always shouting." Iceland whispered the last words.
Denmark felt bile rise to his throat; he felt like he had betrayed the tiny nation in some way.
"I'm sorry, Island. I really am." Denmark drew his knees up to his chest and stared into the distance. The sun was slowly stetting – and with it the nice warm spring heat was slowly disappearing.
As a cold wind whisked past them, causing both nations to shudder, Denmark sighed and put a hand carefully on Iceland's shoulder. "We can't stay here. Nor will worry, you know."
Iceland nodded weakly but refused to move.
"Hey. Island, did you hear me?" The Dane was already on his feet, a worried expression clouding his features.
"It hurts," Iceland whimpered.
Denmark knelt down once again and carefully propped the small nation into a sitting position, eyes growing wide at the sight that met him.
The little wrist was swollen and red – obviously causing the child great distress and pain.
"How did this happen?" Denmark asked, quickly glancing around for any potential threats that might have been the cause of the sprained wrist.
"I fell," Iceland sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes as Denmark inspected his hand.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you guys never tell me when you're hurting." He bent his head and stared at the ground, white locks obscuring his eyes.
Denmark shook his head and carefully picked the younger nation up, carrying him the best he could without moving the boy's arm. "We'll let Nor have a look at it, okay?"
Iceland only nodded as he buried his face in the crook of Denmark's neck while weak sniffles and a few tears could be heard and felt by the Dane for the rest of the trip home.
The first thing that greeted the two nations was a very unhappy Norwegian. "Where have you been?" He scolded them both with a stony expression.
Yet the stern expression melted away in an instant at the sight of Iceland's wrist.
In just a few minutes Denmark was put to work heating up milk and water while Norway cradled the young nation in his lap, calming Iceland down enough to inspect the damage.
"Just a sprain...," He mumbled as Denmark brought the warmed milk and water over in two large jugs.
Handing the still tearful Iceland over to Denmark, Norway quickly set to make up some remedy for the boy. Dried bark and herbs were added to the water while a large spoon of honey was added to the milk.
While the remedy and drink was left to cool, Norway began bandaging Iceland's wrist.
Smearing some honey on the red areas and adding a few 'soldier's herb' leaves over the wrist before bandaging it all over with white cloth; this would help it heal.
Denmark held Iceland's arm still, trying his best to soothe the young one's tears while Norway wound the bandage tightly around the swollen wrist.
"There we go." Norway leant back with a smile, turning towards the table to drain the herbs and bark from the water; adding most of it to the honey and milk mixture.
Iceland scrunched up his face as he was offered the medicine, but after a little cohesion from both Norway and Denmark, he swallowed most of it down.
"Well done!" The Dane beamed with a proud voice, ruffling Iceland's white hair with one hand.
Norway nodded in agreement, taking the jug away from Iceland and placing it back on the table.
"Time for bed," he said as he held his arms out towards the little nation.
Iceland's protest was quickly cut off by a long yawn, causing Denmark to chuckle deeply in amusement as he handed him over to Norway.
"It's been a long day and you need sleep. You'll feel much better in the morning."
Iceland nodded tiredly as he clung to Norway's shirt with his good hand. His big brother gave him a quick kiss to the forehead before handing him back to Denmark.
"You two go have a bath. I need to clean up in here." Norway frowned at all the dried herbs he'd managed to spill on the table in his hurry; and he didn't feel like leaving it till the morning. Those herbs were precious in many ways.
"All right Nor!" Denmark grinned and disappeared quickly out of the kitchen and up the stairs, trying to keep a very sleepy Iceland awake by gently rocking him and chattering about everything and nothing.
Iceland sat patiently and just watched as Denmark filled the tub with water. Occasionally he poked the bandage on his arm, wincing as he realised it still hurt despite the painkiller remedy he'd drank.
Denmark helped him out of his purple tunic and into the bath, clambering into the tub alongside the child as well. "Gotta wash your hair, since it's been at least a week since last time!"
Iceland grumbled, but complied, letting Denmark scrub and wash his hair while he focused on not getting his wrist or bandage wet.
However, despite Denmark's best effort to keep Iceland's gaze preoccupied, the little nation's eyes always wandered back to his chest or arms. He could see the worry etched into the child's eyes as they studied every scar and bruise Denmark had.
"Do they hurt?" He finally inquired, staring up at Denmark with a forlorn expression.
Sighing, Denmark nodded weakly. "They do."
"Then why do you still fight?"
"Because some things are still worth fighting for, no matter how much it hurts," Denmark explained as he climbed out the tub before lifting Iceland out, wrapping both in a large linen towel to dry them.
"I don't like it..."
"No one does." He smiled as he ruffled the child's hair with the sheet, making a terrible mess of the now damp hair.
Frowning, Iceland wrapped himself up in the towel before clinging to Denmark. "You're not allowed to get hurt again." Denmark had to chuckle a little as he recognised the same stern tone in Iceland's voice that Norway always used to scold others. The two truly were brothers through and through.
"I promise to be careful, okay?"
Iceland nodded, allowing Denmark to carry him into the bedroom and dress him in his night gown.
Crawling under the covers alongside the child, Denmark reached for the large storybook on the bedside table, flipping open the book to where they were the night before.
Minutes passed before Norway joined them, climbing into bed under the sheets and pelts next to Iceland, joining in on the story telling to relieve Denmark from time to time.
Iceland yawned as the story neared its end, curling up against Norway's side like a small kitten.
Denmark smiled softly as he placed the book back down and tucked the blankets around all three of them the best he could.
With Iceland's back against his chest and his right arm over both brothers, Denmark closed his eyes and waited for sleep to overtake him.
However, the muffled sound of Norway mumbling something kept him awake.
Tuning his ears he realised that Norway was trying to comfort the young nation; little muffled sobs could be heard and felt from the child lying between them.
Denmark wasn't sure what had brought on the sudden flow of tears, but as Norway's soothing voice filled the room with an old lullaby Denmark decided to not worry too much about it.
Soon Iceland's tears stopped and his breathing became deep and slow.
"He asleep?" Denmark whispered to Norway.
"'Course he is, so don't wake him up." Norway's voice was low and barely audible; yet Denmark detected a little anger there nonetheless.
"It's my fault he's been crying, isn't it?"
"Our rulers to be exact, but yes...," Norway replied bitterly after several agonising minutes of silence.
Denmark gritted his teeth and pulled them both closer to him. "I swear I'll do my best to protect you all."
Norway only responded with a low mumble, leaving Denmark alone with his thoughts in the dark room until morning came.
A big shout out to Pipkin and Yuuago who helped beta this fic.
If you're wondering – yes this does tie in with "Breaking Point"; and more fics to tie in with this 'theme'/'plot' will come. Stay tuned.
partly inspired by this amazing art:
http : / / (X) inkpaper (X) .blog126. (X) fc2. (X) com (X) /blog-entry-72. (X) html#comment