The Face as Cold as Stone {APH}

Norway's face never changes.
It's just there, emotionless, uncaring, unfeeling - like Norway has shut himself off from the world, and he no longer cares. Denmark is determined to find out why.

Hetalia fanfic, eventual DenNor.
Hetalia does not belong to me.


11. Chapter Eleven

Wow. You guys are amazing. Twelve? YES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND IT'S NORGE'S BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AAAAIIIIIEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Happy birthday, Norge!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!




Norway's birthday. Denmark had - with Finland's help - wrapped the present, helped Finland organise a party (because you could never have enough of those) and ordered so much Akavitt he wasn't sure even Norway could drink it.

He was scared. Denmark was actually physically, seriously-not-like-Denmarkly scared.

Today he was giving Norway the watch. The one he and Japan had spent so long designing, the one that would, potentially, destroy their friendship. The implications behind the design were all too obvious. Denmark wasn't giving Norway the watch because he liked him as a friend. Denmark was giving Norway the watch because he loved him.

And it was today or never.

The four Nordics arrived at Norway's house early in the morning. Norway, being his usual self, would already be awake. Denmark, quite the contrary, was not a morning person. He stifled a yawn as Sweden knocked on the Norwegian's door.

Almost instantly, the door was opened and Norway's face greeted them. Denmark tackled him in a hug, almost - but not quite - knocking him over as he threw his arms around him.

"Happy birthday, Norge!" Denmark laughed, the worry from earlier washed away when Norway replied with a familiar strangulation.

"Good morning to you, too," Norway replied as Denmark released him, gagging.

"Happy birthday, Norway!" Finland chirped from behind Denmark. "Are you free to come with us today?"

Norway shrugged. "My day off," he said in reply. Denmark grinned, grabbing his arm and dragging him to the car. They all piled in; Norway squashed between Denmark and Iceland, and Finland beside Sweden in the passenger seat.

Denmark started singing, or rather wailing, Happy Birthday.

Sweden sighed from the driver's seat. This was going to be a long ride.


"A longboat?" Norway asked, raising an eyebrow.

Denmark grinned. "Yep. A snekkja that we loaded up with food and stuff this morning."

Norway stepped aboard the hired ship, observing the sails that boasted the Norwegian flag. More of the flags fluttered proudly from the side of the ship, and banners were strung from every spare space on the boat.

A banquet of food was set up on the deck, a massive kransekake right at the centre of the Norwegian food.

"There's Akavitt, as well," Denmark added proudly. Norway inclined his head in thanks as they stepped onto the boat.  The soothing sea breeze greeted them, the scent of salt pleasantly relaxing.

"This brings back memories!" Denmark laughed, remembering when, back in the Viking age, they'd sailed in boats such as these to raid other lands. Norway had smiled, then. Not often, but sometimes. And sometimes was good enough for Denmark.

A distant longing clouded his eyes as he stood beside Norway, a hope that maybe today, he would smile. Maybe today, Denmark thought. Maybe today...


By the end of it, he still hadn't given Norway the watch. He'd helped him eat the food, baked and decorated by Fin and Sve, and he'd given him countless bottles of Akavitt, each wrapped with a red, blue or white ribbon that was, admittedly, tied in a clumsy way that only Denmark could master.

But the watch? A nervousness swallowed him each time he even considered it. What if Norway was offended? Or hated him for the very idea of it? Denmark didn't wanto to risk that. Especially today. But he had to, didn't he? There was no way he could back down, not now. They left the boat at dark, leaving Finland and Sweden to clear it up. (Denmark had no clue why they'd offered to take on this role.)

Iceland was driving this time, and Denmark was alone in the back, still insisting on singing hapy birthday to Norway.

"How about you call me big brother?" Norway asked Iceland.

"No." The reply had been the same for the entire day.

"Awww, come on, Ice?" Denmark pleaded. "You can't deny you're related." Iceland sighed as the Dane prodded him on the shoulder.

"Denmark, do you want me to crash? If not, then stop irritating me," Iceland growled. Denmark ignored the warning, continuing to prod at Iceland's shoulder.

"You know you want to," Norway encouraged.

"Fine!" Iceland growled eventually, screeching to a stop outside Norway's house. He got out of the car, opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. Denmark wondered what was so difficult about saying it. "Big Brother," Iceland muttered finally, before slamming the door and storming off to his private jet for the ride home.

Denmark announced to Norway that he was staying with him tonight, following him inside like an impatient, eager shadow.

"That was great fun!" Denmark laughed. Outside, Iceland's jet left. "So Norge, did you have a good birthday? Better than last year?"

"Ja. The boat was a good idea," Norway replied, as Denmark headed to the kitchen, grabbing an Akavitt for his friend and, somehow, preventing himself from taking any of Norge's alcohol. Norway didn't need an intoxicated idiot to look after on his birthday.

Denmark collapsed on the sofa beside Norway, handing him the drink. His hand subconsciously strayed to the pocket the gift was in, and Denmark bit his lip.

He had to give it to him now.

"Hey, Norge... I have something for you," Denmark said softly. Quieter than usual. Norway raised an eyebrow, and Denmark reached into his pocket. Be strong, he told himself. Be brave.

Norway's phone chose that exact moment to start ringing. Denmark mentally cursed whoever was being so annoying.

"Sorry," Norway said, picking up the phone and answering. "Hey, Ice."

So that was who it was. Denmark made a mental note to give Iceland a lecture on when he should or should not call Norway.

"Your coat? Yeah, I'm sure it's here somewhere."

Denmark could hear Iceland's voice coming from the phone.

And suddenly, an explosion. Screams.

The phone went dead.

"ICE!" Norway yelled. Nothing.

Abandoning his phone, Norway darted from the lounge, leaving Denmark to chase after him, grabbing both of their coats as he followed Norway from the door. He knew exactly what Norway was doing - he was going to find Iceland.

And he sure as hell wasn't doing it alone.

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