A.N: AHHHHHH, I LIVE! *thunder and lightening* Anyway, I'm so sorry for anyone who's been waiting! I started my first year of college right after I posted the last chapter, and a whole bunch of crapola happened with getting used to the new lifestyle, and my documents got wiped because my laptop broke, and ahhh gosh, so much drama. It's great to be back though-I missed writing these sweethearts! Thank you SO MUCH for everyone that's read, reviewed, faved, etc. You're all awesome, and now that my disgustingly long hiatus is over I'll be able to crank out more at a regular pace!~ ^^

Disclaimer: I own none of these babies, no matter how much I wish I did.


Denmark stomped into the house, looking curiously into each door as he passed. When he got into the kitchen, he saw Finland and Sweden. "Hey, Sve! Finny! Have you seen Norge and Icey anywhere? I watched his weird bird while he visited Norge," he paused for a moment to point to the sassy-looking bird perched on top of his head, "but Icy didn't come pick him up this morning. I checked both their houses, but they aren't there! Sooo, that's when I though 'Hey! Maybe they're at good-old Sve and Finny's!'" He laughed, but it cut off into a yelp when Mr. Puffin pecked him on the forehead.

At the site of Mr. Puffin, Norway let out a surprised babble and reached out for the bird. Iceland tightened his grip on him so he wouldn't tumble off his lap. "Nor! Will you stop with the moving?!"

Mr. Puffin leapt from Denmark's head and flew across the room to perch himself on Iceland's head. "Hey, what's this?" He tilted his head down to examine the baby. "You replacin' me with a pudgy chick, Tough Guy? After I had to spend all that time with Denny boy over there?" Norway looked up at the talking bird with big eyes and tried to reach for his break. "Heeeey, watch it, little guy," He warned, flapping his wings a bit. "Dis beak here ain't for grabbing with your little chubby fingers. It's—"

GRAB!

Mr. Puffin's beak was commandeered by a very pleased-looking baby. He squawked indignantly while Norway laughed, keeping a firm grip on the beak.

This, Iceland reminded himself as he pried the small fingers off his bird's beak (with the help of Finland), was why he only had one pet.

The entire time Iceland was trying to separate them without getting the stray hand or beak to the eye, he noticed in the back of his mind that Denmark was unusually quiet. Usually if some commotion occurred, the tall blonde would be laughing in the background and making a snarky, irrelevant comment. But no, nothing. Not a peep. Once Norway's hand was pried from Mr. Puffin's beak, Iceland looked up.

Denmark was frozen in the doorway, and kept a wide-eyed gaze at the little bundle in Ice's lap. His expression carried between shock, disbelief and…something else. It shocked Iceland, because whatever emotion the other was dealing with felt so personal; Iceland looked away quickly, as though he had interrupted a special moment from watching him.

Finland smiled knowingly at Denmark's face; he knew exactly what that emotion was. He felt it himself when he walked in and saw what that spell had done to Norway.

After a moment, Denmark composed himself and hesitantly walked toward the pair. "Norge is…a baby?"

Norway stopped when he sensed Denmark approaching, and looked up at him with large eyes.

Iceland coughed. "Ja, he is. A spell got the better of him last night."

"I…aha, wow." Denmark smiled softly and knelt down in front of Iceland's lap to have a better look. "I remember when he was this young…such a little thing…"

Norway stared back calmly, and reached his pudgy little hand out to the Dane. Denmark laughed lightly and offered his hand for Norway to hold. "Heh, he was so sweet back then. Do you think he remembers me?"

Norway examined his hand curiously, then gently grabbed his thumb…

…and squeezed, hard.

"EyyyyYYYYEEOOOOW!" Denmark reeled back and struggled to pull his hand away. Norway shrieked with laughter, then grabbed a bottle that Finland had placed on the table earlier and chucked it at Denmark's head. He dodged it and laughed lightly. "I guess he does remember, huh?"

Iceland sighed. There went that moment.

Finland looked on cautiously at the scene, but stepped closer and ushered Denmark to a seat at the table. "Come now, Denmark! We'll explain this over breakfast!"


"So, Norway was trying to cast a spell to make Icy a little baby again, but it backfired and affected him instead?" Denmark spoke between bites of pancake and porridge. "Ha! Am I the only one who doesn't see the irony in this?" He looked around the table amusedly.

Finland frowned and shook his head. "This isn't funny, Denmark!"

"Ja, it—"

"No, it isn't! You know Norway's a powerful sorcerer, this could last for ages!" Finland shook his head. "We must find a solution to this, or at least confirm how long this spell will last for someone like him!"

Iceland grimaced and nodded in agreement. There really was no knowing how long this spell would be in effect. The spell book said only a few days, but for someone like Norway, well…who's to say that it would last a few weeks? A month even?! "No," Iceland decided. "We need to figure out a way to bring him back to normal."

"But none of us are close to understanding the magic the way Norway is! And he's…" Finland looked down at Norway in Iceland's lap. He was currently munching on a grape, with one hand clenched firmly around a part of Iceland's shirt. "…he's really not capable of reversing it in his state."

Sweden swallowed a bite of his smörgås and spoke for the first time since everyone arrived, "Wh't about 'ngland?" Four pairs of eyes shifted their attention to him (while one pair looked over at the bowl of grapes on the table) and he continued. "He 'nd Romania were th' two Norway went fer studying his magic. Since 'ngland's closer, why not ask 'im?"

That did make sense; if anyone was going to be as knowledgeable about magic, England was one of the only options available. Iceland looked down at the little Norwegian, and nodded. "That's a good idea. If anyone knows about working the magic like Norway does, it is England." He grimaced, though. England, while talented in magic, was not the easiest country to talk to. He was so…stiff upper-lipped and 'have-at-you' and 'scones with jam and tea' and…well, quite a serious character. "We'll visit him after breakfast. The sooner this is resolved, the better."

No one objected to continuing with breakfast. Mr. Puffin flew down from Iceland's head and snorted. "Countries, so friggin' ridiculous." He took some smoke salmon off of Iceland's plate and chewed. "Do ya see puffles tryin' to turn each other back into eggs? No, ya don't!"

For a moment, he paused from dialing England's number. What if he was in the middle of "Tea Time," or was in a grouchy mood? Really though, when was he not in a grouchy mood? He took a deep breath and dialed.

The phone rang for a few minutes, then the other line clicked and a voice was heard. "Kirkland residence?"

"England?"

"Yes…May I ask who's calling?"

Oh wow, he neglected to tell the other who he was. Good start, Emil. "Oh! Um, this is Iceland."

There was a pause on the other end, then England regained his voice. "Oh, Iceland! Yes, the one with the silly bird on his head! Yes, I remember you. How may I help you?"

He wrinkled his nose in irritation at the bird comment and was glad that Mr. Puffle was in the living room with Denmark and Norway. "It's a bit of a difficult thing to be explaining on the telephone, but Norway accidentally cast a spell on himself and we need your help."

"Oh, bollux. Was it that laxative spell he tried using on Denmark again? I told the git it wouldn't work a second time, but I'll be damned if he ever listens to me!"

Laxative spell? Denmark?!...he really didn't want to know.

"Um…no, not this time. Do you mind if we come over? It's an emergency, and neither I nor Sweden and Finland can find an easy reverse."

"What, now? Blast, I have a quilt-stitching club coming around this evening, but…oh, fine. Just come soon, I don't have much time for a chat and jolly."

Iceland sighed in relief. "Thank you so much, England! I will definitely be grateful!"

"Yes, quite right old chap. Goodbye."

He hung up and sighed with relief. At least there was a plan. Plans were good. Plans gave Iceland hope that this ridiculous situation would get better.

"Norge, wait, don't tug my hair—AIIIIIIIIIIEEE, GET HIM OFF, FINNY."

Yeah. He really needed a plan.


If it wasn't for Sweden offering him a ride to England's flat, Iceland had no idea how he would have gotten there quickly. He got out of the quiet man's car and, baby in tow, went up to the front door and knocked.

….Nothing. He knocked again.

Still, Nothing.

He began to panic after a few minutes when there was still no response, but jumped when the door was slung open in haste and revealed England, wearing an apron and covered in flour. "Damn it all, sorry! I couldn't hear you in the kitchen." He wiped his hands on the apron and sniffed, then looked around. Norway clung to Iceland's jacket, unnoticed. "Where's Norway, though? You said he put a spell on himself, I'd assume he would bother to come with you."

"Ah…well, Mr. England, he's here."

England's eyebrows did that funny movement they did whenever something annoying or confusing unfolded—Denmark had called it the "Caterpillar Crawl"—and finally looked down at the bundle in Iceland's arms. "…Oh."

"That's why I couldn't talk to you about it over the phone."

"Well…Right, yes, come in then."

England all but dragged them in, and led them into the living room. The scent of cinnamon tea and burnt scone scented the room, and soft yellow curtains billowed softly from the open windows.

England sat them down on the sofa and placed a mandatory cup of tea in front of Iceland, then sat next to them and stared down at Norway. "Right then, when did this happen?"

"Last night, but I didn't notice until this morning…I think he was trying to the spell on me."

England scoffed and shook his head. "Of course he was." He picked up his own teacup and took a sip while eyeing Norway carefully.

The silence was beginning to grind on Iceland's nerves, and he asked, "So…do you know what kind of spell it is?"

The other sighed, and nodded. "Yes, unfortunately. It turns whomever it's directed at into a toddler. Didn't think Norway would bollox up a spell like this, though."

"Ah." The small country was trying to grab one of the metal spoons on the coffee table. "Do you know how long it will last, though? Or is there at least an antidote?"

"Oh God, no. No, whoever created this spell made sure it wouldn't be reversed willy-nilly. As for how long it will last, I've no idea. From my experience, it depends on the force of the spell caster."

Iceland raised an eyebrow. "Your experience?"

England sputtered momentarily and straightened his tie. "Well…there was one time when I was drunk and thought it'd be a good idea to turn America into a toddler again, but…it didn't really work out."

"You mean you—?"

"It's not something I care to bring up!" England's trademark scowl formed while Iceland tried to contain his laughter, and he crossed his arms in a huff. "A whole month of that idiot trying to force greasy burgers down my throat and trying to get me to do God knows what! If it weren't for Canada stepping in, I'd have been obese and forced to watch American football all day."

The other stopped his snickering instantly. "A month?!"

"For me, yes. I heard of some lasting longer, and some lasting only a few hours. With Norway though, there's no telling." He looked down at the toddler, then hummed lightly. "Does he respond to 'Norway'?"

"Um." He thought back at all the times he yelled at Norway today, and nodded. "I think so. Sometimes he's too preoccupied with an activity."

"Yes, I can tell…" He watched in distain while Norway chewed on the spoon, which was part of the good silverware. It was only when drool pooled around the metal and dripped onto the upholstery did he grimace slightly and reach for a napkin. "His memories and actions will lapse during this period. Sometimes, he'll be conscious of the situation. Most of the time though, he'll be trapped in his toddler mentality, so calling him by his human name might be more effective."

Iceland nodded. "Will he remember his time as a baby after he reverts back?"

"Most likely, yes. Some parts might be blurred, but he'll remember." England looked at the grandfather clock across the room, then cursed and stood up. "If you do excuse me, though, I'm expecting company soon."

Iceland stood up and readjusted his grip on Norway. "Thank you, Mr. England."

England scurried around them and tidied the room up. "Yes yes, no problem." He paused and looked up at them, then added, "Just remember to be prepared for anything. Toddlers are not known for predictable behavior."

He nodded, and let himself out as the other prepared for his evening. As he closed the door behind them, Iceland looked down at Norway. "Alright, Lukas," he said as he walked back to Sweden's car. "Let us make a memorable time out of this."

Norway gurgled in agreement.


A.N: Yay, you did it! You read to the end!~ I'm currently outlining the next few chapters out, so they should be up within the next few weeks! Words cannot express how happy I am delving back into this fic; I hope y'all are pleased to see more babeh Norge as well!~ ^^

(Also-thanks for the reviewer who corrected me on Norge's name!~ For some reason, I always see Norway as a Nikolas rather than Lukas~ ^^)