Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the story idea and only some of the witty remarks. I own so little; so please don't steal.

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If by Sea

One hour since Denmark finally acknowledged he did not know the way home; fifty minutes since Denmark refused to ask for directions; forty minutes since they both realized they had been driving around in a circle trying to find the way down the mountain; thirty minutes since Denmark stopped to look at a map to let Norway use the bathroom (and ask for directions); twenty minutes since Denmark finally listened to Norway's 'intuition' to find the road down; ten minutes since the sky had gotten totally dark; five minutes since Denmark knew their route at last.

This road trip was all Denmark's fault.

"Tired?" Denmark asked as they rounded a curve Norway hadn't bothered counting since they reached the seventies. He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance over at the passenger's seat, where Norway's eyelids were growing heavy. A hand smashed his attention back to the curvy, shadowed road ahead of him.

"I think anyone would, after being forcefully awakened and shoved in a car at five in the morning to run around a mountain with you." Norway yawned. "Then spend a couple hours trying to find our way home."

"It was a fun mountain," Denmark insisted, skillfully maneuvering the car around another curve. Norway thanked the gods that despite all of Denmark's other faults, driving was not one of them; he probably wouldn't be sleepy if it was the opposite. "There were bears and trees. And that cute little town on the top!"

Norway's eyes opened slightly. "A cute little town that wouldn't believe you tried to wrestle a bear. I told you it wasn't a good idea."

"It was looking at you in the wrong way!"

"It was a bear."

"Hmm." Even with high beams, Denmark was taking the road rather slowly; Norway was thinking his previous years of nagging was finally paying off. The long stretch of trees to the right finally gave away to a cliff, where the moon was shimmering above a smooth cove. Norway remembered this place; Denmark had wanted to stop the car along the side and run down the cliffs to the beach but he had wrestled the keys back into the ignition.

It had been a bother, Norway thought as he watched the moon contort as they changed angles from each other. He had left a note for Iceland, who probably would not have minded, but would probably be washing dishes alone in the house from his dinner. Denmark had been inconsiderate, wanting to spend time with him so much as to kidnap him from his own house.

"Are you happy?" Denmark asked as they sped into another grove of trees. Norway didn't look away from the window.

"…I'm tired."

"You can go to sleep. I know the way home." Norway shifted in the seat, sliding into a position where the seatbelt did not cut into his neck as he rested his head. Car rides always made him sleepy, especially at night, when it was dark, the car was warm, and the curves lulled inactivity to unconsciousness. Denmark had not been obnoxious and turned on the radio, which Norway was again, grateful for. Sometimes the idiot could be sweet.

There was a long silence and Norway felt a sliver of suspicion as he tried to sleep. Cracking an eye open, he saw Denmark's hand hover over his knee and closed his eye again, grumbling. "Don't you dare, Denmark."




Note: The mountain I used for reference isn't even in the Nordics. I was over in Australia a couple years back and my cousins took me and my family up one, can't really remember which one it was. Twelve Disciples? Anyway, I was thinking about it and I felt like a car ride was in order. Thanks for reading.