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Minimal fluff 09!


Once upon a time in a not-so-far-away land, there lived a certain prince named Denmark. He lived in secure surroundings in his palace where he thrived with an abundance of comfort in the forms of servants and other people that lived to make his life easier. Not to say this spoiled him rotten; on the contrary, he was quite the humble prince when he looked past his enormous ego…which was to say, wasn't very often.

Denmark had a childhood friend, a skilled magic user next in line to become the Head Mage of the kingdom. His name was Norway. Both had grown up in the walls of the castle, although their paths forked when they became of age; Denmark was educated in how to run the country after his father, Germania, passed on and Norway apprenticed under the current Head Mage, a short tempered blonde named England. Normally, this would have separated any other pair under any other circumstances but Denmark believed in bothering Norway any chance he got and Norway had put it upon himself to be Denmark's alarm clock, waking the prince using any technique possible.

As another day unfolded, a prince of another kingdom – an island in the north reaches of the Atlantic – sailed to the mainland for diplomatic reasons. Although it certainly was not the reason he was named Iceland, he was quiet and had a rather frigid demeanor, with apathetic violet eyes staring out from a head of snowy white hair. As he reached the outskirts of the mainland, a ship sailed out to meet his. Thinking it to be harmless, Iceland stopped his ship and was promptly attacked by this very ship, the captain being the stoic Sweden of Ikea. Iceland was seized, put under a spell by Sweden's cheerful yet loyal wizard, Finland, and taken to Stockholm Tower, where he was held.

This crisis soon arrived at Germania's doorstep, where a plea for help was issued by Iceland's homeland. The mission called for a low number of members involved, as Sweden had been infamously known for attacking and wiping out an army from a distance. His youngest son, Germany, was too small to fight and his eldest Switzerland had washed his hands from any incident involving alliances. There was no other choice but to send Denmark on his way to save Iceland – afterwards, he was promised Iceland's hand in marriage for a beneficial alliance between the kingdom and Iceland's kingdom. Denmark didn't know if he really wanted to marry this prince he didn't even know, but he didn't have a choice under his father's jurisdiction and it seemed kind of exciting to go on a rescue mission anyway. He went on his way with Norway, who had been assigned the mission as well to offer magical help as England was needed to protect the capital in case of a siege.

Together with Denmark's royal ax and Norway's spells, they battled their way through border bandits, thick forests, and foreign cities to get to Sweden. More than once, they had close calls where Denmark had done something stupid like accidentally exposing his royal nature or letting it slip their mission. Determined to stick together, the prince kept the mage by his side with declarations that even in youth, Norway was always the one he loved best. Used to hearing such confessions, Norway ignored him and healed the latest injury, leaving scars from attacks or careless accidents.

Traveling only together, the two had time to muse about their lives. Denmark admitted he was skeptical about marrying Iceland and skeptical of running an entire kingdom when he was used to having someone else do it for him. Under the influence of alcohol (which Denmark cleverly slipped into his drink when he wasn't looking), Norway slurred that he missed spending time together in the palace but what could they do, they were growing up.

Along the journey, they met many colorful characters, like the perverted troubadour France, who sang X-rated love songs and tried to make a pass at Norway; a simpleton knight named Spain, who fought for the name of love and passion; a pair of twins who were the heirs to the throne of Italia – one was so innocent and cute that Norway had to drag Denmark away from their palace; and a mercenary with a fondness of cats who went by the name of Greece. These friends joined and left their little party as complications and occasions arose until they were left with their little two-man group, making their way to Sweden.

Denmark knew they were getting close when there was an awful chill and he could see a tall stone tower in the distance, surrounded by a thick snowstorm. Despite Norway's flame charms, nothing could dispel the flurries and after the mage tried a weather spell, the magical nature of the storm was discovered and the being behind the barrier made his entrance.

It was England, who had been promised part of the booty from Iceland's ransom! He was the Head Mage but was secretly posing as such to gain more territory in Scandinavia. However, all was not lost; Norway had been mentoring under him for the title of Head Mage as well and their skills were satisfyingly adequate to have a worthwhile battle. In the end, using a plethora of distraction spells, Norway drew England's attention until Denmark could strike from behind, knocking out the fake court member as Norway didn't want to go as far as to kill England.

In the aftermath of the win, Sweden swept in under a cloak of darkness and captured Norway, taking the mage deep into Stockholm Tower. Denmark gave chance and crossed the snowy landscape to reach the iron doors of the tower. They opened with an ominous creek but he entered fearlessly to rescue his friend and save the kidnapped prince.

There were many obstacles in the way; there was a starving and very pissed off dragon. There was haunted furniture. In fact, although it was only a tower, it was filled with various moving couches, beds, cabinets, and other household items. After slicing a homicidal rug to pieces, Denmark finally climbed a step slope of stairs to get to Sweden's hiding place.

Sweden was sitting in a mini-throne room of sorts, his large chair blocking the passage of stairs that went up and to Iceland's room. The stoic man watched Denmark approach amusedly, bringing a bound Norway to view to make a deal. Denmark was to turn and leave, never to try to save Iceland again, and in return, he could have Norway back safe and sound. That would have been utterly fine with Denmark (as he didn't really give a rat's ass about Iceland anyway, and he didn't really want to get hitched to the guy), but Norway gave him such a dirty look that he had to refuse or risk being the bearer of an enormous grudge. Sweden shrugged and Finland appeared behind him with a smile and a hex tailor-made just for Denmark.

The battle was unfortunately one-sided, as normal weaponry really could not compete against offensive magic. As Finland knocked Denmark's ax away and prepared himself for the final blow, Norway sent a paralyzing curse his direction, effectively stilling the wizard. Realizing this turn of events, Sweden grabbed Norway around the collar and threw the still-bound mage across the room. The toss was cushioned by Denmark, who caught him at the last minute and cut the ropes around Norway's wrists. With this turning of the tables, Norway trapped Finland in a cage of light as Denmark charged at Sweden. The fight was matched, as Sweden and bigger and stronger than Denmark but the prince of Scandinavia was quicker. Sending the larger man crashing into a pillar, Denmark claimed his victory.

Finland, who had managed to escape the paralysis spell, cried out, surrendering and promising not to meddle if he could only tend to a now-motionless Sweden. Norway relented and let the wizard rush to his ally's side as he followed Denmark up to Iceland's room.

The room was completely empty, save a bed where Iceland lay sleeping under a spell. The walls were flawlessly white with a strange blue hue to them. The two walked up to Iceland, who looked quite peaceful as he slept. Norway stepped aside, offering Denmark the honors as it was only appropriate for a prince to save the damsel in distress under a spell with love's first kiss.

Denmark stepped forward and kissed Norway, grabbing the startled mage as their mouths crushed together. His hands found the crooks of the smaller boy's neck as their kiss deepened, their tongues dancing together as Norway struggled to break away, to remind him that there was someone who actually needed the kiss more than he did, but he couldn't force himself to draw away and submissively let Denmark's hands roam his body as he kissed back, fighting for dominance.

Meanwhile, through the window next to Iceland's bed, hopped a little black puffin. This puffin had been at Iceland's side since the prince was a baby and had been left behind when its master had been kidnapped. It had journeyed across the mainland all this time, searching for Iceland, and had climbed the tower all by itself. Landing on the bed, oblivious to the two ravishing each other close by, the bird waddled up next to Iceland's head and pecked the boy on the mouth. Like magic, Iceland's eyes fluttered open.

As the prince sat up, he smiled at his puffin as he turned and spotted the two, who had just realized that yes, the other person in the room had awoken. Staring blankly at them, Iceland turned back to his bird, before asking if he could go outside since he was so ungodly stiff.

Sweden was arrested, but the cursed furniture was taken away and sold in a big blue warehouse. Finland obediently went along, staying quite true to the older man. Iceland went home after making it clear that he was not marrying someone who had been distracted so easily when he was right in front of him. Germania attended to his growing headache as Denmark insisted that since a marriage was being prepared, he may as well marry his childhood sweetheart Norway, who was now Head Mage as England was now missing.

(There were reports that the blonde magic user was now making his way across the Atlantic to one of his colonies but no one really followed up the claim.)

Although they didn't necessarily end up happily ever after, they still had their together ever after.

Moral: Watch your Ikea furniture carefully.



Notes: Listen, I know Germania was basically more or less Germany, but hey, Denmark's in that general area. Yes, I made jabs at Ikea, I'm surprised no one else has yet, though. At first, I actually had dialogue in this story until I realized how long and winding it was turning out to be so I shortened it to be a bite-sized fairy tale. I sort of tried to incorporate history? And let's face it, if Iceland was to be saved, he'd probably kiss himself and save himself. He's in a league of his own. Review, or I'll trap you in Stockholm Tower and Denmark won't come for you.

Title is Danish for 'fairy tale', courtesy of Google translate.