Disclaimer: No I don't own Hetalia. That clear now? Good.

So, this is a story about Iceland's and Estonia's relations. Odd couple? Yes, I know. Hot as hell? You bet. But it's quite platonic in this fic, if people like this I'll maybe write a more romantic one someday… :)

Warnings: The fic deals with war and with countries political relationships. It also takes its topic far too lightly, because I fail at writing seriously. If this offends you in any way, I suggest not to read the fic.

Without further words, enjoy!

Estonia remembers the first time he properly saw Iceland. It was back in history so long ago before the horrid war and all its bloodshed.


Back then he had used to be independent. He had been thrilled by the happiness it had brought to him during those times.

Iceland had visited his house to discuss diplomatic relations with him, along with his Baltic brothers.

But of course the island nation couldn't come only by himself. At that time Iceland had been officially under the jurisdiction of the King of Denmark. So Taani had been there. He was so loud and so brilliant. Like a shining ray of light, radiating upon the people around him. And he left Iceland completely into his shadow.

Maybe that's why the man had seemed so small, because in reality he wasn't, quite far from it actually. As a Nordic country he was naturally tall, perhaps even taller than Estonia himself was. But there next to the Dane he had looked tiny and fragile like a lonely snowflake, falling slowly, softly, helplessly towards the ground.

It left an indelible impact to Estonia. He had sympathised with the man immediately, realising their fates as somewhat similar, truly caring for him from the bottom of his heart. They had started seeing each other whenever they managed to find the time.

But sadly as it is, if you truly like something there never seems to be time for it. And so it was with them. There was then a barrier in between them, restricting their meetings, but it didn't stop Estonia from trying.

Didn't stop him from hoping.

Until that hope was shattered like a mirror into million pieces.

The war.

The stupid, mindless, crazy war.

He hated it, hated it with every cell of his body; hated it more than anything else in the whole world. It had almost ruined his country. It had killed so many of his people, his dear children. It had taken his freedom, his will and his friends. It had destroyed his wish for a better future, although that wish was luckily now restored.

During the darkest years he hadn't seen Iceland at all. The war had broken any ties made before it and for 51 long, longer, longest years their contacts remained disrupted.

Fortunately and for all good, nothing can last forever. Not even the terror, how hard it might try. The war came to an end and everyone lived happily ever after. Or so it would have gone in a fairytale. But in real life everything is much harder, and only after a lot of struggling against Russia's power, was Estonia able to restore his lost freedom. But it paid back in the end and he was finally able to declare himself independent again.

And could you guess who the first to recognise him was?

Well, the lonely snowflake of course.

During the years of separation Iceland had grown stronger and wiser. He had grown off the Danish rule and was standing proudly on his own feet.

But the same longing from the start of the war had stayed with him. The bitterness he had held in his heart. The sorrow of losing a companion, the loss of a dear friend. So the minute he heard about Estonia's reclaimed independence, he rushed to let the whole world know that he acknowledged it, acknowledged it with his every fibre.

When things were alright again, Estonia went to meet Iceland. When the two friends finally got to see each other after all the years of desperation, the pain in their chests dissolved.

Sadness was replaced with the happiness of the reunion.

Worry was replaced with relief.

They were together again at last. They embraced each other, crying not anymore tears sorrow, but tears of joy. They rejoiced of one another, feeling the kind of ecstasy neither had ever felt before. Everything was going to be fine; they were both alive. No matter the few cuts and bruises, they were still in one piece.

They had survived.

That was one of the few times anyone heard Iceland laugh. The sound was bubbly gleeful straight from his very soul. It was beautiful.

And Estonia knew then, and also came to know after it, that the music of Iceland's laugh was specially reserved for him. The other nations wouldn't hear it. To them it seemed nearly impossible to even get an emotional response out of Iceland, save for his occasional frustration towards the other Nordics. But to Estonia he was full of emotions. He was full of joy, full of anger, sometimes even regret.

And full of love for his companion.

And that by itself was proof enough to Estonia that he had a friend in Iceland, for forever and ever.


He breaks off the thought and smiles, his grin broader than ever.

Authors notes:

Thank you so, so much for reading. I truly appreciate it because this fic somehow absorbed all my emotions in it. In the end it's more of emotional, than a factual kind of story like I originally wanted but I love it nonetheless.

This story isn't in any way meant to be hurtful, or offend anyone. But if you for some reason find it either, I'll offer my humblest apologies.

Taani = Estonian for Denmark, just to clear that up.

If you liked my story please review, it would mean a lot to me.

Love, Endles~