Hello! I'd like to take a moment before you read to apologize for my lack of skills in writing Iceland. Our personalities are completely different, so whenever I write as him it's really hard for me. D: Also, I suggest reading For Love, and Maybe Some Other Things before this, as this is just Iceland's PoV of the same situation that happened in the one-shot.

Of course, this could be just a shameless self-plug seeing as one doesn't have to read that fic to understand this one, but shh you don't need to know that.

Enough with my useless ranting. ENJOY!

Meet Iceland, Best Brother Ever

Iceland was disturbed.

No, not because he found his puffin trying to hook up with a toucan again. No, not because Sweden showed up on his doorstep with the creepiest look on his face asking where Denmark was. No, not even because he found Denmark playing with Barbies in his brother's room for the fifteenth time.

Nope, none of those things could even compare to this, because this was by far the most disturbing and petrifying thing Iceland had ever laid eyes on, which, he noted rather belatedly, were twitching at the moment.

Denmark was in white tights and a gold and white striped tunic, wielding a plastic axe and sword in either hand and swinging them about wildly, all the while chatting animatedly and giggling like a schoolgirl.

And that, Iceland is sad to say, is not the worst part.

Norway was laughing, smiling, and blushing while wearing a pink, frilly dress and a tiara, watching happily as Denmark spoke enough for the two of them, most likely explaining whatever it was he was doing seeing as Iceland didn't have a clue. Not that he wanted to get a glimpse of how the Dane's mind worked, his IQ dropped just by looking at the idiot sometimes. Kinda like it was now.

Iceland tried to obey the burning in his eyes, telling him to look away, to run, to forget about this and never come back.

But no. He couldn't. Because this was his brother and he'd have to come to accept this strange side to him sooner or later, if the Norwegian ever decided to bring this up as a conversation topic, which Iceland highly doubted.

...But if Norway did bring it up, Iceland had to be a good brother, he had to be understanding, he had to be mentally prepared.

See, if Iceland was any other person, he would have flipped out, stormed into the room, demanded what they were doing and why they were doing it seeing as they're both too old for these types of games, and maybe punched Denmark in the face for good measure. However, he was Iceland, and he did what he usually does with stressful situations- took it in stride.

So he peeled his eyes away from the perturbing image of his brother and his brother's boyfriend giggling and prancing around like lunatics, knowing that the scene was forever engraved in his brain anyway, and he left. When he finally made it home, he sat cross-legged on his living room floor, closed his eyes, and meditated for three hours. In that time he figured out a few things.

1. Denmark was an insanely delusional nation that believed he was still in grade school.

2. Norway loved that idiot way too much for his own good.

And 3? It was most definitely role playing.

He knew it, and he knew that Denmark knew it, and he knew his brother did not know it because if he did he would have never consented to whatever the Dane suggested in the first place. Iceland was surprised at this a little, seeing as his brother usually analyzed situations before diving into them.

...Then again, this was the same Norway that allowed himself to be dragged into a children's play place in a fast food restaurant after Denmark whined and smiled and cried until he gave in.

Really, it was nothing new, so Iceland found it a lot less surprising (still just as disturbing though) now that he had figured out how the heck this happened.

Meditation over.

He continued with his life.

And he kept quiet through the third, fourth, even after the twenty-first time he'd found them doing this.

After the twenty-second time, Norway finally caught him walking away from the scene of the crime through the open window (since Iceland didn't bother standing around to watch their antics anymore, he had better things to do) and before Iceland could get far enough to pretend like he couldn't hear them, Denmark called him back to the house.

A little later, when Iceland and Norway were sitting at the dining table sipping tea while Denmark showered, Norway attempted to explain.

"Denmark won't stop crying unless I let him in," Norway said in that monotonous voice of his, words faster than normal, and Iceland just nodded along like a good brother, swirling the dregs left in his tea cup around lazily as he listened to his brother's lame excuses. "The ents get very irritated, you know." Iceland knew very well that the ents closest to the house loved the Dane, but he nodded anyway, pushing his chair back and getting up to put his tea cup in the sink. Norway kept speaking. "It isn't weird, it's just dress-up. Kids do it all the time, and Denmark is basically a child... so..."

Iceland couldn't help the eye roll, and he dropped his tea cup into the sink, the clinking loud enough to get his brother to stop blabbering. He turned around and locked eyes with his brother, whose gaze was intent and questioning, and if Iceland didn't know his brother as well as he did, that would have been all he saw. But no, he also saw the spark of apprehension in those blank eyes, and Iceland realized that Norway knew he was only trying (and failing) to justify his own actions to hide the fact that he was embarrassed about it.

Iceland also figured that Norway didn't know what made this entire situation so strange to outsiders.

Since Iceland was the best brother ever, he decided to let him know exactly what was so disturbing about it.

So he crossed his arms, regarded his brother with raised eyebrows, and said what would have been obvious to Norway long ago if he wasn't so love drunk.

"You do know that you're role playing, right?"

And he saw the flicker of confusion that flashed through Norway's eyes, which changed to contemplation as Norway's brow furrowed slightly, then his eyes widened a fraction as he finally comprehended.

Iceland figured his job as an understanding brother ended here, and he picked up his puffin from the freezer and left the two crazies to their 'alone time,' giving himself a pat on the back and figuring that now that Norway knew how un-Norway-like he was being, he would stop the dress-up nonsense or at least knock some sense into Denmark and do things that normal couples did... Like go on dates or a picnic or something. Iceland didn't care as long as it didn't involve him.

...What Iceland didn't plan for, however, was having to shove a pillow over his head when trying to spend the night at Norway's house a few days later when Denmark showed up out of the blue. And then he may have regretted breaking the naive facade.

Being a good brother was hard.

"I think I'm ready for my shot now, Nurse Norge~"

Iceland pulled the pillow closer and fought the urge to vomit.

He needed to meditate. Or sick Sweden on Denmark. Or drown himself in vodka until this night was forever purged from his memory.

Either way, if Norway ever wanted to see him, he'd be coming to Iceland's house from now on.


Okay so credit for this one-shot goes to the anonymous reviewer from the story I shamelessly plugged in the first AN, so thank you very much to you if you are reading which I highly doubt that you are!

Any feedback or constructive criticism you could offer on how I could improve Iceland's PoV would be greatly appreciated, as I think I suck at it. xD

Also I really struggled coming up with a title, and if anyone has any better suggestions just drop it in a review or a PM. Otherwise I'll just keep it as is. Even though I don't like it all that much. I'm so not confident in this story FFF OTL!

Oh well, thanks for reading!