I originally wrote this for Iceland's birthday, but forgot to post it lol. I had the idea that I could write one for each Nordic… maybe I still will…
Iceland wakes up to the smell of baking. Sleepy, content and cozy under his blanket, he doesn't process the smell although his stomach gurgles appreciatively. He starts to burrow back under the covers, keeping his eyes closed.
The door opens and Norway makes a sound of disapproval. He goes to the window and opens the curtains before Iceland can react, and the sunlight blinds him. He sits up, his hair a mess and eyes mostly closed—now the baking smells make sense. "Wha…"
"Wake up. Den's almost done with breakfast."
Iceland blinks incoherently. Then he realizes that Norway is in his bedroom, staring at him, and he throws off the blankets. They'll see! Norway already saw! Him lying in his whale-print pajamas like a little kid! His bare feet are cold against the wood floor and he runs into the bathroom to brush his teeth and hair and pee, wondering as he does how his brothers even managed to get into his house. He was positive he didn't give either one of them a key. Did Nor find the one under the welcome mat? He rinses his mouth and spits into the sink, deciding to save that line of thought for later, when he's dressed.
Then it's back into his bedroom to push Norway out—his brother has started to read a book on the window-seat, totally at home—and struggle to get clothes on that aren't pajamas. Scarcely has he finished pulling on a knit sweater than his door opens again—they never knock!—and Norway is back, Denmark following with a tray. Coffee and sugar and pastries, bread and a cake balance precariously, and Puffin is sitting on top of Denmark's head. Everything is stuck with flags on toothpicks and smells wonderful; Denmark's always been good for baking at least.
"Sit," Norway tells him, because Iceland is just standing there and staring.
"Wait! What are you two even doing here?" Iceland asks, remembering that they just broke into his house.
Denmark puts the tray on the nightstand and then goes over to hug Ice. "We're here for ya! A kiss!" he adds, giving Iceland just that on his forehead; Iceland blushes and shoves him.
"I- I didn't ask you to come!" Nor did he ask them to settle down on his bed, move his pillows around, or show up at his house at six in the morning. Nor did he ask them to ignore him right now, as he tries to work up authority out of embarrassment.
Puffin loyally flaps his way over to rest on Iceland's shoulder. "Stop yer complaining' an' grab me a sweet," he says, less loyally.
"We came anyway," Norway says calmly, holding his coffee. He's straight faced but Iceland is sure he's grinning on the inside.
Denmark is spreading butter on a piece of cinnamon bread; his smile is obvious. "Because we love you! Now come on, it's breakfast in bed."
Amid the flags decorating the meal, Iceland notices a few that aren't his. He swallows—his throat feels weirdly thick—and gives in, sitting between them on the bed. Denmark starts passing out pastries and lights a candle stuck into a piece of toast for Iceland to blow out; Puffin helps himself to a danish; Norway ruffles Iceland's hair and says, "Happy birthday."