literature

(young)Iceland x Male!Viking!Reader

Deviation Actions

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Literature Text

Note -
(s/c) - skin color
(cap/n) Capitol’s name)
-----------------------------
In the past....

Gold” Denmark crooned softly, eyes now completely gold and red. “Gold and land!” He dropped the axe, and it fell towards (c/n), landing with a sickening crunch. Norway winced. Denmark stood panting as the eerie light left his eyes, leaving them their normal blue. “(c/n)?” he whispered, seeing the collapsed country. “No no no no no no no (C/N)!” he shouted, dropping to his knees, cradling the man’s bloody head on his lap. “NORGE DO SOMETHING!” Norway shook his head. “NORWAY! You’ve got magic! FIX HIM!”

Norway shook himself out of his shocked state and joined Denmark, rubbing his hands together as he did. Running his fingers down the barely breathing country’s wound, Norway carefully removed the axe from (c/n)’s back with a sickening sucking sound. (c/n) jerked, making a whimpering sound. Denmark stroked the country’s (h/c) hair, hands shaking.

“I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry.....” Denmark was practically sobbing.Norway began to murmur in the old Nordic language,* hands glowing a blue color as he ran his fingers up and down the country’s wounds. The light spread throughout the wound, and (c/n) whimpered again.

“Keep him calm, Denmark!” Norway hissed as he pressed his hands to the (s/c) back. (c/n) moaned as his spinal cord, shattered by Denmark’s axe, repaired itself. The muscle began to thread itself back together, and, after that was done, the skin began to re-knit itself. (c/n) cried out. Norway took his hands off the Viking captain’s back, breathing heavily and sweating. “We need to keep him somewhere quiet.” he told his captain. Denmark nodded, rising to his feet, and cradled (c/n) to his chest. Suddenly, (c/n)’s first mate, (cap/n) stepped in front of Denmark, the rest of the crew flanking him.

“Give him to us, Denmark.” (cap/n) warned. “He needs to go home.” Denmark clutched (c/n) closer to him. “Now, Denmark. We are taking him home for his most-needed rest. He needs isolation.” (cap/n) took a step towards Denmark. “We need to take him home.” Denmark shook his head. Norway put a hand on his shoulder, and Denmark hugged (c/n) close to him.

“They’ll take good care of him.” Norway promised Denmark quietly. Denmark sniffed, and slowly nodded before handing (c/n) over to (cap/n). (cap/n) smiled, handing (c/n) over to a crew member before turning to face Norway and Denmark, raising his hand.

“As of now, without (c/n)’s explicit permission,” (cap/n) announced in a loud voice. “Denmark, Norway, or any of the Nordics are forbidden from entering (c/n). This enchantment shall last for as long as it is deemed suitable.” Norway and Denmark’s eyes went huge.

“What about Iceland?!” Denmark cried. (cap/n) didn’t bat an eyelash.

“You and Sweden were fighting about what to do with him. You figure it out!” With that, (cap/n) turned sharply, barking out orders. With a hopeless glance, Norway brought Denmark back to his own ship.
- - - -

Many years had passed since that dreadful day. Iceland had long forgotten about his Onii-chan, the only thing that remained was his remembrance of someone else, not Norway, being his Onii-chan, and thus he tried not to call Norway that. Denmark acted happy, trying not to remember how close he came to murdering his best friend. Sweden stopped talking much, and ignored Denmark the best he could, for Norway and Denmark had never told Sweden or Finland that (c/n) hadn’t died that day. Finland, like Denmark, was trying to be happy, and tried to keep spirits up by delivering presents. One day, though, when he was visiting Denmark, Iceland found a scrapbook. He opened it, eating a piece of licorice with one hand. He stopped at a drawing of Denmark, Sweden, and another man, one with (h/c) hair, (e/c) eyes, and a very large grin on his face. The man was clothed in a (f/c) cloak lined with fur, and had one arm slung around Denmark, the other slung around Sweden. Denmark’s grin was as big as the mans, and even Sweden had a miniscule smile on his face. When he turned the page, the man was still in the photo, but a chibi Iceland was in the photo. Iceland had a huge smile on his face, big enough to rival the man’s in the previous picture. The little Iceland had his arms wrapped around the man’s neck, and the man had his arms around Iceland’s waist, holding the little boy up. The man’s head was resting on Iceland’s, a much more gentle smile on his face. The love in the man’s eyes was brimming, and Iceland’s eyes were filled with the same amount. As he flipped through the photos, he noticed that, in almost every picture the man was in, either Denmark or Iceland, sometimes Sweden, was with him.  Iceland frowned. If these photos were true, who was this man?

”Come on, big brother!” The voice was a very high-pitched version of Iceland’s. “Sweden’s here!” There was a laugh, and then a deeper  man’s voice said.

“Well, we certainly can’t keep him waiting, can we? Up we get!”


Iceland blinked in surprise as he stared around. What was that? With a sigh, Iceland stood up to go ask Denmark.
- - - -
Denmark was unnaturally quiet when Iceland showed him the drawings.

“So?” Iceland asked. “Who is he?” Denmark picked up the drawing with the him, the man, and Sweden, and smiled sadly.

“That,” he sighed. “Is (c/n).” Denmark bowed his head as the front door opened, and in walked Sweden, Finland, and Norway. Sweden, upon seeing the scrapbook, flipped.

“How dareyou?!” he hissed. His usual voice was gone, the voice he used now was clear and cold, and absolutely pissed. “How dare you keep his scrapbook?” Denmark winced, and Finland put a hand on Sweden’s shoulder.

“Swede-”

“No, Finland. He murdered him and now he keeps one of his favorite possessions?” Sweden stood at full height. Denmark scrambled to his feet.

“So what if I did?” The pair glared at each other, eyes murderous.

“Who are you talking about?!” demanded Iceland, standing up. Everyone looked at each other before looking back at Iceland. Finally, Finland spoke.

“The man in the picture is (c/n),” Finland said. “He was your older brother before Denmark killed him.” Iceland’s eyes got very big. Norway spoke finally.

“He was Denmark’s best friend. In fact, I would say he was all of our best friend at one point or another.” Norway sat. “He was a viking captain. Between him, Denmark, and Sweden, we could’ve taken over all of Great Britain. But, at one point, Denmark-”

“Went mad.” Denmark said bitterly as he stared at his hands. “I thought money and land were more important than you and Finland. I was taking all the men and leaving you and Finland behind.” Sweden growled lightly.

“When I decided to leave, and take you and Finland home with me, (c/n) agreed to help me leave.” Sweden rumbled. “Denmark and Norway cut us off, and (c/n) sent you to us.” Finland took up the story.

“After we left, we never saw (c/n) again.” Finland said sadly, sniffing.

“Because Norway and Denmark killedhim!” Sweden snarled.

“NO WE DIDN’T!” shouted Denmark, slamming his hands on the table. “He was still alive, but (c/n)’s fucking capitol said that we were banned from (c/n) forever!” Finland and Sweden stared at him. Iceland was still shocked.

“Actually, Denmark,” Norway corrected. “He only said that we had to have (c/n)’s explicit permission, and the enchantment would last as long as it was deemed suitable.” Sweden frowned.

“Why did you tell us?” demanded Finland, looking wildly between Norway and Denmark. Finally, Iceland spoke.

“You mean that Norway and Denmark almost killed my actual big brother?” he said finally. Denmark and Norway winced, while Sweden nodded. Iceland stood.

“I’m going to find him.” Norway opened his mouth to protest, as did Finland.

“He lived in Greenland.” Denmark remarked. Sweden scowled at him. “Tell him the rest of us miss him, okay? And he has no idea how sorry I am.” Iceland nodded as he grabbed his jacket from the coat rack by the door.

“But-” Iceland left the house, Mr. Puffin joining him.

“Let’s go to Greenland, Mr. Puffin.” he said quietly.
- - - -
After Iceland had arrived in Greenland, he realised it was too late to go looking, so he retired at a hotel. Sitting on the bed, Iceland realized he had no idea where to even start looking, the headache he had gotten the moment he landed in Greenland not helping. He sighed, opening the scrapbook. In it, there was a drawing of him and (c/n), laughing, as Denmark told something most likely incredibly stupid. He was sitting on (c/n)’s lap, eating something, and (c/n)’s arms were wrapped around Iceland’s waist. Iceland sighed and set the photo down, leaning against backboard. He closed his eyes.

“Big brother!” Iceland called. “Big brother, I give up! Where are you?” There was a far away laugh.

“Come on, Icy, you can find me!” Iceland pouted.

“Oniiii-chaaaan....”

“Come on, just a few minutes more and then I’ll come out!” Iceland stomped a foot.

“Fine.” The little boy wandered around. There was a huge castle-like house in the distance. It was made of grey stone, with several large trees hiding it from view. It was obviously very old. Suddenly, little Iceland saw a flash of (f/c). Grinning, Iceland ran forwards and grabbed it. “Found you! Huh?” When he pulled on the (f/c) cloak, however, it just fell to the ground. “B-big b-brother?” The little boy sounded very worried, and afraid.A branch cracked somewhere, and Iceland jumped, about to cry.

“A-HA!” shouted (c/n) as he scooped the little boy up. “Gotcha Iceland!”

“BIG BROTHER!” Iceland cried, hugging him.

“What?”

“I t-though something h-had happened t-to y-you!” Iceland buried his face in (c/n)’s neck. (c/n) smiled.

‘Aw, Iceland...” he crooned, stroking the little boy’s head. “Nothing can take me down!” He cuddled the little boy close. “Besides, I still have to have to keep an eye on you!”


Iceland jerked awake. He knew that castle. Was that a memory? Because if it was, maybe he could find (c/n). That castle was a bit far away, but he could make it. If it found this ‘older brother’ he had, he was willing to give it a shot.
- - - -
The castle was still there, as Iceland remembered. It looked a bit like it was falling apart, but you could still see the wonder Brattahlid castle had been in it’s day. Iceland hesitated. What if (c/n) wasn’t even here? What if he had died long ago? What if-

“Hey, tough-guy!” Mr. Puffin squawked. “We haven’t got all day!” Iceland sighed before stepping into through the door, shaking out his dripping umbrella.

“Hello?” he called, wandering in. “(c/n)?” The door slammed shut behind him, and Iceland whirled around. A pair of (e/c) eyes glared at him through the sudden darkness, and Iceland gripped his bag and umbrella tightly.

“Who are you, Nordic” the words were piercing and angry, “And how did you get into Greenland?”

“I took a plane.” he said warily, deciding not to tell the voice his name.

“That spell should still be in effect!” the voice sounded confused. “So how-” The voice cut off. “Hmmmm.... Unless he decided to cut it short with his magic....”

“You mean Norway?”

“Who else would I mean? Sweden?” The voice scoffed. “You still haven’t answered my question. Who. Are. You.” Iceland narrowed his eyes.

“You tell me first.” The voice laughed.

“I am (cap/n).” The voice stepped into the light. The man’s (e/c) eyes, in fact his whole body, were transparent.

“Are you a ghost?”

“Perhaps.” (cap/n) narrowed his eyes, stalking around Iceland. “And you are?”

“Iceland.” (cap/n) cocked his head, smiling slowly.

“I see...”(cap/n) sighed suddenly, giving a wistful smile. “Do you know how old I am, Iceland?” Well that was random.

“No. But older than me, I suppose.” Iceland answered cautiously. (cap/n) nodded, eyes getting a far away look.

“Since that” the ghostly (e/c) male growled that word. “day, since the day he woke up, I don’t think there hasn’t been a day (c/n) has asked for you, or about you.” (cap/n) began to pace the room. “Every few hours, besides staring out the window, (c/n) asks if you’ve come back, since he can’t leave.”

“Why not?” (cap/n) shrugged.

“His country’s gone, and he’s tied to the castle for various reasons. He can really only stay in Greenland.” (cap/n) shrugged. “Anyway,  he’ll want to see you.” Iceland hesitated. (cap/n) scowled. “What?”

“Isn’t he dead?” (cap/n) laughed. “Dead? Him?” the (e/c) eyed man shook his head. “No. At one point, maybe. But no, he’s still alive.” (cap/n) cocked his head. “On you go, little Iceland.” (cap/n) pointed at the stairs, his other hand on his sword.
- - - -
Iceland hesitated outside the old oak door, hand slightly outstretched.

“Well?” (Cap/n) demanded. “Are you going in or do I have to shove you?”

“Give me a minute.” Iceland muttered. (cap/n) eyed him.

“He’s not going to bite you.” (cap/n) snapped. “Now come on!” Iceland scowled at the ghost and opened the door, stepping inside. (cap/n) closed the door behind him. The man staring out the rainy window had shoulder-length (h/c) hair tied in a short ponytail, and his (f/c) cloak was hung on the back of his chair.

“Hello, (cap/n),” the man’s voice was pleasant, yet tired. He didn’t turn around. “You know, I’ve been thinking....” (cap/n) motioned for Iceland to stay silent.

“About what?”

“Iceland and the other nordics.”

“Oh?”

“Well, mostly Iceland. But still...” The man took a deep breath before blurting out. “Have they forgotten about me?” (c/n) shook his head slowly. “It’s been so long, (cap/n). The magic should have worn off by now.....Iceland must be so big.....” (c/n) pressed his fingertips to the window, watching the rain trickle down the window. “I never got to see him grow up...”He sniffed. “Maybe it’s just time for me to go.” (c/n) turned in his chair to face (cap/n). “What do you thi-” The man stopped short, (e/c) eyes big as saucers. “I-I-ce-” (cap/n) quickly left the room, closing the door.

“Hello, (c/n),” Iceland said quietly. (c/n) began to blink back tears as quickly as he could.

“Oh, Iceland....” he whispered. “You’ve grown so big......” He took an uneasy step out of his chair, and stumbled over to Iceland, cupping the boy’s cheek. “My little Ice.......I’m sorry....”(c/n) pressed his forehead to Icelands. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry....”

“It’s okay.” Iceland said quietly, memories from his time with (c/n) resurfacing. With a cry, (c/n) just pulled Iceland close to him, hugging him tightly and sinking to the floor.

“My Ice.....” he breathed. “You’re here, you’re here, you’re here....”

“Don’t worry, big brother....” Iceland said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I had a brilliant idea on a happy ending. So yay. Happy endings.
*I think there's a language called Old Norse.


Viking Death March-link

The Other Nordics - link

World Meeting, Here I Come - link

IownnothingnowgoawayorIshalltauntyouasecondtime
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