Title: Things You Can Do In A Rowing Boat

Pairing: DenNor

Summary: Denmark and Norway are stranded in a boat, with no land in sight for several hours. What will they do?

Disclaimer: I own nothing except my God-given talent XD . . .yeah right.


"Noooor!" his voice is loud and inpatient, and he's completely oblivious to my sleep deprivation and lack of food. And there's one more thing. I need isolation.

From him.

Somebody kill me. Please kill me. No seriously, I'm not even joking. Never have I felt such a strong urge to cross over to the other side. Really end it. For good.

Imagine sharing a house with Denmark, who's obnoxious, bipolar, really, really boisterous and likes his beer a little too much.

Imagine being woken up at six in the morning by a dead drunk Dane insisting to "crash in my bed" because he can't manage to wobble the approximately thirty more steps, to slip into his own.

And he wont just snuggle up on the opposite edge of the bed, respecting the fact that it doesn't belong to him.

Oh no, he'll collapse right onto it, arms and legs slung out in every possible angle. He'll likely give the duvet a hard pull, until I lie at the edge of the bed, freezing cold. On other nights he'll do something even worse, if that's even possible.

He'll pull me roughly against his chest, squashing me completely. In his eyes, personal space is nonexistent.

I find it hard to comprehend how I've managed to wake up alive after a night like that , and not find myself suffocated to death from his invading my intimate sphere.

During the daytime he is not less annoying.

He exploits every given opportunity to brag and prattle on about how brave, how good looking or how strong he is.

Whatever. I tend to tune him out, which is the sagacious way to respond to his self-serving babbling.

Sweden will usually respond by clutching his glass till his knuckles turn white, and the glass shatters between his fingers.

Now that you know what it is like to live with that dense idiot, you may have just the slightest insight of what I'm going through right now, being stranded on a rowing boat with said idiot.

You may also want an explanation of why we're here in the first place, so here it goes:

Me, Denmark, Sweden, Finland and Iceland were all out on an expedition to England, in order to rob and plunder like usually.

I eavesdropped on a conversation Sweden, Finland and Iceland were engaged in, in which they were discussing how to get rid of Denmark for good.

Sweden, being the creeper he is suggested throttling him in his tie.

I'm never entirely sure if Sweden is kidding or not, when he says such things.

A couple of other suggestions were put on the table, which eventually led to an agreement on luring him into the dinghy, which we use when we're in low water, and the ship can't sail all the way to land.

When he was there they'd sail off quickly.

It may sound barbarous but we're Vikings after all, and trust me, Denmark will find a way to return, completely unaffected by the situation.

And he will believe it, when we tell him it was an accident.

So sailing away it was.

I was actually really fond of the idea, until I was affected by its content.

That's right, they told him to get into the boat, to see if it was leaking, but he insisted that I joined. The more weight in the boat, the easier it is to see if it's leaking, I suppose, which was why I consented and hopped into the tiny dinghy.

I sent Sweden an eloquent look, and was certain he would comply my silent plea, and tell the others to postpone the plan.

Apparently they hate Denmark enough to be willing to make certain sacrifices to get rid of him. Me for example.

So now I'm here, seated in a rowing boat. The air is chilly and the waves are somewhat high. My stomach is rumbling and my head is throbbing. I suspect I'm getting a headache from having been forced to listen to him for two hours, while praying they will change their minds and come back.

I doubt it though.

It's not like they don't care about me. It's just that their hate to Denmark surpasses their sympathy towards me.

"Nooor!" He drawls, poking me in the side to get my attention. I've been staring at the dull water for some time now, disregarding his zealous attempts to get my attention. "I'm bored."

"I know." I reply plainly. "There's nothing I can do about it."

"Wanna play truth or dare?" He suggests.

I raise my eyebrows at him, silently questioning whether he was dropped on the floor as a child once or twice.

"What do you think, you imbecile."

It's not really a question, but Denmark misinterprets my words, not heeding the insult.

"I think you'd love to," he exclaims cheerfully, shifting in the boat, to face toward me. The dinghy rocks dangerously and I register the nausea surface in my throat.

I feel like throwing up.

"So I'm first, I'm first!" he insists, and I sight, going along with it.

"Nooor?" He drawls, smirking at me. "Truth or dare?"

I pause, deliberating what fatal consequences it could entail if I said "dare".

"Truth." I say, not missing the disappointed look in his eyes.

"When did you first realize you had a crush on me?"

I cough violently as the question completely startles me. He has taken his stupidity to new lengths.

It takes me a moment, before I'm in a state where I'm able to answer his question.

I'm too flustered.

"I really like how you are assuming I'm having a crush on you in the first place," I say sarcastically, when I've gained my voice back, hoping to sound collected.

He look at me in bewilderment. "But... you do have a crush on me." He states managing to sound like he's reciting common knowledge or one of the laws of nature.

"When did I ever say that to you?" I protest indignantly, crossing my arms.

"When we we got into the boat, you said you really liked me."

He gives a loud chuckle.

"Jeez Nor, you should pay more attention to what you let out."

"What I told you when we got into the boat was that you were a huge douche," I deadpan. Oh, and it's funny it's YOU who's saying I should pay attention to what I say, guy who can't filter yourself at all.

Denmark snorts. "Well, that's certainly not the way I remember it," he claims, crossing his arms, as though we both know he's right.

"You know what?" I begin, forcing a patient smile onto my lips, "let's do something else. I don't feel like playing truth and dare right now."

"We could sing," he proposes happily, and I frown.

"No, Den, I really-"

"Oh Norway, you remember that one, we were taught?" he cuts me off.

"Really Denmark, I..."

"What is the malted liquor?

What get's you drunker quicker?

What comes in bottles or in cans?"

If there one thing that guy can't do it's sing. Regrettably I'm forced to listen to it on several occasions, including when he's drunk or just plain bored like right now.

He even suggested we should have a battle song to sing, when we arrive to plunder.

It was one of those golden moments, when Sweden turned completely pale, and got that look of unshielded madness in his eyes.

"I would not refuse a,

I could really use a

BEER, BEER, BEER!"

"SHUT IT!" I roar, clasping a hand over his mouth. I shriek when I feel something incredibly wet and warm squirm against my palm.

"You just licked my hand!" I yell in a shrill tone, quickly removing my hand, and throwing myself back in self-defense.

Oh, God the boat is rocking too much.

"What were I supposed to do? You just ruined a really great song."

I feel like running my head against a tree right now, as I squeeze my eyes shut, hoping to wake up, and find that this is all part of a sick nightmare.

As I reopen my eyes, Denmark is smiling deviously, and pats my shoulder in sympathy.

"You are so cute when you get mad." he informs me, upon which I blush madly, and shakes it off by telling him not to be ridiculous.

Two more hours have passed, and we haven't seen land.

Luckily it's not as windy as before, but as the darkness descents upon the boat and us, so does the cold, and I know were in for a freezing night.

Denmark has been rattling on the whole time, apparently unaffected by the cold, and his current subject is what he thinks of the others.

"You know, Sweden is just a jerk." he loudly proclaimed, obviously without seeing anything inappropriate in verbally announcing every single thought going through his head.

"I mean, he's clever enough and I kinda like him when he's drunk, but at other times, no. He's just too weird." He casts a sidelong glance at me. "I mean, okay, you are strange too, but not in the same way. There's something strange about his entire personality. You've just got some really strange friends..." He rambles on, loving the sound of his own voice, if I'm not wrong.

"Yeah, I have weird friends all right," I mutter hopelessly. Endeavoring not to encourage him to continue.

I allow my attention to surface from my thoughts, when he's done analyzing Finland and his dog. I'm brought back from my dreams, by the mentioning of my name.

"I'm actually glad I'm with you on this boat, Norway." he says grinning broadly.

"Really? Why?" I ask, not seeing how being with me, who doesn't even listen to him, is any fun.

"'Cos you are so cute, and always want to hang out with me."

Once more, I can't help but blush. I'm not good at taking compliments, and though Denmark has a talent for overburdening me with those, they always manage to take me by unawares.

Wait, "always wants to hang out with him?" Where does he get that?

"S-stop saying things like that." I mumble, avoiding his fixed gaze.

"But you are." he insists, scooting closer to me. "That's one of the reasons why I love you so much."

I'm nearly burning up with embarrassment right now.

Did he just straightforwardly state that he loves me, without even blinking an eye, assuming that I would know that? I slowly look up at him, eying him critically.

"You love me?"

He laughs out loud, shaking his head like I'm completely hopeless.

"Now you are just being silly, my Norway." he chuckles lightly, attempting to grab my hand, which I quickly remove. "You already know that."

Mitigated I offer him a quick smile.

I suppose it's okay that he's telling me that. He could do more bothering things. Like deciding to take a swim in the icy water.

No really, he'd do that.

Further three hours have passed.

His talking has decreased, and we are both pretty drowsy.

It's still the terrible coldness of the air, which prevents us from sleeping, but also the fact that we can't both lay down in the boat, without being on top of each other, which I would detest.

I look at my hands, and notice how they are gradually turning blue. My lips are probably equivalently colored, and I can't keep my body from shaking.

"Are you cold?" He asks, already beginning to unbutton his coat.

"Yeah, but don't give me that." I nod at the coat. "You''ll freeze to death." but he's already wrapping the coat around my shoulders.

"There," he says, pulling the collar up, to shield me from the it's ruthless biting as much as possibly. "Want me to warm you?"

"Not really, no," I decline, but at that moment my teeth decide to oppose me by starting to chatter soundly.

He reacts by grabbing my shoulders and starts to rub and massage my overarms and back slowly and soothingly. I close my eyes, allowing my body to relax, and indulge in the gentle rhythm of his hands.

"If only we had some dices," he sights. One of his traits is the constant need of action around him. He is simply not build to sit still for a second, and is extremely easily bored.

I roll my eyes.

"Or some food."

I lean back against his chest.

"We could tell stories."

"No."

"And if we had some mead, we could keep warm by getting wasted."

"But we don't." I reply in a flat tone, shuddering slightly while my body is still readjusting itself to the heat radiated from the warm coat.

With the collar pulled up, I can't help but sniff it. By accident of course. It smells a lot like him.

"I got it!" Denmarkcries happily. "Do you know that game, where you have to guess what I'm thinking off?"

"Aren't you cold?"

It's hard to tell if he's just trying to be stout, or if the cold really hasn't gnawed through that thick skin of his.

Okay, so him being thick skinned, doesn't really add to the news around here, but anyway...

"Not at all." He passes it off, waving his hand, whilst quickly turning his attention toward something more interesting. "I'll think of something, and you have to guess. Only yes and no answers, okay?" he says with intent expectation depicted in all of his features. Right now I get associations of a child on Christmas eve.
"Is it you, with a plaster over your mouth?" I mock, rolling my eyes at him.

"I haven't even though anything up yet, wait a sec..." he trails off, looking really thoughtful for a moment.

"Okay, I've got one now." He lifts his head, flashing me a self-assured and secretive smile, which I refrain from returning. "It's in a glass..."
"Beer." I sigh deeply.

"Correct! How did you know?"

I feel a strong urge to start banging my head on the side of the boat. This is pitiful.

"Just think up a new one." I demand quietly, and he again offers me a large smirk.

"Already got it. It's really, really awesome, I own it and..."

"Your axe?"

He pauses, looking slightly disappointed. "You are really good at this," he remarks after a second, patting my shoulder in a praising manner. "But I guess it's 'cos you know me really well, Nor."

"Or because you are really, really primitive, and can't think of other things than weapons, beer and..."

"I'm thinking of someone really cool, tall and handsome," he interrupts loudly.

"Yourself?"

"Yeah, I guess that one was pretty easy," he rationalizes, nodding his head in agreement with himself.

I scratch the back of my head, despondently.

How am I going to survive the night? I have no idea what time it is, my stomach has commenced making revealing rumbling noises, and I'm running out of faith in Sweden and Finland.

Like hell they are going to return to save us.

No, I'm going to die out here as a virgin, accompanied by the most annoying person to ever have walked this earth.

"Nor?" he shakes me, and I notice how his tone has changed radically. He no longer speaks loudly and sounds self-assured. This voice is softer yet still ingratiating and teasing.

"Do you know who I'm thinking off now?"

"No."

I shake my head, turning to stare at the ocean, contemplating how many days it takes to die of thirst, and automatically slaps his hand away, when he tries to cup my cheek in his palm.

"Someone who is really good looking, smart and cute," he hints.

"I still don't know." I reply negligently. Because of course I could have guessed.

"You." he says simply, grinning happily at me, in a way that leaves no room for doubting that he means it. "Especially when we're out here, and your hair is all windy and stuff. It makes you look even better."

I barely dare to search his face for any trace of shyness, but as I look up hastily, I'm only confronted with that sincere smile of his, and it makes me even more self-conscious.

"You should really start to filter what you say." I mumble.

As I look up again, Denmark is looking at me expectantly, which makes me slightly perplexed.

"What?" I ask, grinding my teeth in exasperation.

"Aren't you supposed to compliment me now?" he asks, appearing dejected with his head hanging, causing stray strands of blond hair to fall into his face. Unintentionally, I get a strong urge to brush it away.

...

And now I'm just plain disgusted with myself.

"Like hell I am." I grumble, folding my legs to rest my chin on my knees. This is fairly comfortable. Maybe this way I can keep warm.

"Aren't you getting cold?" I repeat my earlier question, eying his thin shirt.

It's not that I am concerned about him, but I wouldn't feel well if I had to share the boat with a giant icicle or a dead body.

Still wearing a disappointed look from my rejection he shrugs. "A little, maybe."

"Then take your coat," I insist, and starts removing the thick fabric from my shoulders, but am stopped by his hands forcing the coat around me.

I jump slightly when he starts warming my overarms and shoulders, by rubbing them in slow circles.

"Nah, I'm good," he claims. "I'm not a scrawny bastard like you."

I know he's teasing, but it bothers me when he laughs at me condescendingly like he does now.

I'm not that skinny and I'm used to the cold northern weather, so he ought to shut up, and stop pretending I'm some sort of helpless child.

I point this out, but he doesn't respond. Only shrugs and laughs leniently, which is something I'd do to him. I really don't like how he's trying to switch roles.

"You know what? Take your coat!" I rip the coat off, making a great effort not to chatter my teeth, shoving it violently at him.

Denmark sights in defeat, and slings the black leather over his shoulders. "Are you mad?" he ventures to ask teasingly. I can tell he loves seeing me infuriated like this. If he even realizes I'm annoyed, because he's a bit slow. Either way, he loves teasing me.

"No," I bite my lower lip not to sneer. "I'm just a tad bit tired of being on a boat with no food with a chatterbox like you!"

Okay, I did not succeed in sounding calm, but maybe this will get him to shut up.

"You are so cute when you are mad."

It didn't get him to shut up.

"When you snap at me like that, I just feel like poking your cheeks to press all that fume out."

Before I can think up a snappy remark to throw at him, he sends me a redeeming smile, and breaks the tense silence.

"Now that I think about it, why don't we just share my coat? It's big enough for both of us, if we move move closer together."

He beams at me and I feel a little insecure. Being closer together would certainly keep us warm. But I don't know. It's Denmark after all and there's no telling what he might attempt to do to me.

"Wouldn't you like that, Nor?" he presses on.

Ah, what the heck. He looks really hopeful and it is really considerate of him to offer me his coat, so he'll have his way with me this time.

"Yeah, just this once." I agree, moving around so I'm sitting between his legs, with my back to him, while leaning against his chest.

He manages to pull the coat over both of us, and swifts to get comfortable in the small dinghy.

I'm pleased to note that he manages to remain quiet for a while, and I fully enjoy the decreasing moments of silence, and the warm sensation which has rapidly spread through my body, as I'm embraced by his heat.

Suddenly I notice how he's discreetly wrapped his arms around me, and that I'm now pressed entirely against his body.

"Den?" I call firmly. "Why are your arms around me?"

"Mmmm.... s'nice..." comes the muffled reply from where his face is snuggled in the crook of my neck. "I bet u likkit too." he slurs lazily, patting my stomach reassuringly.

Well, the feeling of his tickling breath on my neck and his strong arms holding me possessively doesn't exactly feel bad.

Somehow it feels cosy and I'm not cold at all any more.

"Yeah Den, I like it." I admit, placing my smaller hands on top of his, to rub some warmth into them. Or just to touch them. I really don't know.
I can actually feel how his lips twitch upwards against my neck at my positive reply, and I can't help but snicker at how hard he has tried to get me in good mood the whole night, failing terribly until now.

"Good." he says. "Love you, Nor. A whole lot."

"You are crazy," I tease indulgently and snuggle further against his chest.

"You are meant to tell me you love me too." he points out.

"Yeah, well I do sometimes." I mutter in a guarded tone.

"Dumb Norway. You have to say it to me, before I accept it." he grins pressing a soft kiss to my cheek. I blush uncontrollably and am extremely happy it's pitch black out here, so the dense Dane wont notice my red-tinged cheeks.

"Are you gonna say it?" he asks impatiently.

I take a deep breath.

"I love you," I affirm simply, and I feel that I can actually vouch for what I say. Denmark is being incredibly nice right now.

"Yay! Can we have sex then?"

Kill me.

Please kill me.

I take everything back. All of it.

Luckily he interprets my sudden coughing fit right for once, and quickly leans in to kiss my other cheek.

"I was kidding."

We manage to sleep for about three hours, and are awoken when the first rays of sun, stray from the horizon and collide with our eyelids. We watch the sunrise together in silence, but suddenly my eye catches a dot in the horizon which keeps getting bigger and bigger.

"It's the ship!" Denmark yells happily, pointing toward the dot. "I still don't get how they can just forget us in the boat like that! They've probably been worrying sick..."

Oh Denmark, you'll never get it...

"Still, what a coincidence they just happened to sail straight towards us. I mean, how lucky are we?"

"Yeah, they'll certainly be surprised to see us." I comment, knowing that they probably wont spot our boat amongst the waves before it's too late to turn back. And Denmark will be all over them.

We'll be back on the ship, and forget that this night ever happened.

And Denmark and I... I don't know.

Just as I'm thinking about him, I feel his lips against mine. The kiss is chaste and brief, but it's enough to make the blood boil in my veins.

"Thanks for a great night," he says. "Det var dejligt, endelig at kunne hænge ud uden de andre tabere. Vi to mangler mere kvalitetstid."(*1)

I shrug indifferently, for hiding my emotions is what I do best. "Kanskje du har rett. "(*2)

Okay, maybe things have changed.


Translations: I swore I wouldn't throw in some Danish, but it was too tempting XD And even some Norwegian too.

Danish: (*1) "It was nic finally being able to hang out without the other losers. The two of us need more quality time."

Norwegian: (*2) "Maybe your are right."

YAY XD Nor finally managed to prove he's not en emotionless, cold-hearted bitch, but a reaaally cute guy, who's just too in love to see it himself.

I know you like Denny, Nor 3

And Denmark is just... well, being Denmark in this fic. No comprehensive portrayal of his deep emotions for Norway or anything like that.

I believe this fic is all about the hints really.

But anyway, please leave a review let me know if you liked reading it. We gotta spread the DenNor love, remember? =3

Thanks for reading.

Bye Bye 3