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.

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3. Chapter Three

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YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! 6 FAVOURITES OMHG HOW DID THIS HAPPEN YOU GUYS ARE AWESOMENESS WORTHY OF PRUSSIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Iggy will be appearing in this one, so thanks to Rebelle MidnightMoon for sending me the request!

 

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Denmark had to admit: the plan had failed. Miserably. In the morning, he'd found himself sprawled on the floor, with a splitting headache and reeking of alchohol. Meanwhile, Norway sat calmly at the table, still drinking Akavitt - how he could hold that much drink, Denmark had no clue.

"You shouldn't drink so much next time," Norway advised, without so much as looking around to glance at Denmark as he tried to stand.

"Ugh..." Denmark managed, falling back down onto the floor.

"Germany and Italy left earlier," Norway added, tilting up the glass and swallowing yet more Akavitt. Denmark responded with a half-hearted murmur from the floor, glancing up at his chair and trying to pull himself up.

Failed, and slumped back to the ground. Everything was spinning; the world seemed to be whirling around him in a violent array of colour. Then suddenly he was being lifted, effortlessly slung over somebody's shoulder. It took Denmark a few seconds to realise that it was Norway carrying him.

The smaller man easily carried Denmark into the next room, dumping him on one of the chairs and disappearing, coming back with several bottles of Akavitt. Norway deposited the bottles on the table, sinking into the chair beside Denmark's, and proceeding to talk to his supposedly invisible trolls.

"Thanks..." Denmark managed. And with that, passed out.

 

Plan two: Bring Norway and England together, because both had invisible friends, and maybe that would make Norway happy. To be able to talk to somebody else as crazy... Somehow, the prospect of making Norway happy seemed much better than seeing him irritated at Iceland or Italy.

The next day, Denmark found himself sitting there and wondering what the hell was going on as England and Norway immersed themselves in conversation - apparently, with their invisible friends involved.

"Flying Mint Bunny, don't say such things!" England laughed, and Denmark sighed. What was going on?

The two waited for a response - apparently, from a flying 'mint bunny', before Norway nodded emotionlessly and said something in return. The duo turned to their left, seemingly listening to something Norway's troll was saying, before England nodded furiously.

"Exactly!" he agreed. "That's what I told the git!"

Denmark couldn't take it any more. What were they talking about?

"I'm going to get lunch," he announced loudly, causing England to turn, and Norway to shrug dismissively.

When he came back, England was offering Norway one of his scones.

Denmark almost ran from the room in fear. He remembered when he'd tried one of the very same scones, cooked by England himself. The Dane had been ill for the following week, and had stubbornly refused English food for the rest of his life.

"Oh, Norway's not hungry," he put in quickly, trying to keep himself from shuddering.

"Denmark, I hardly think Norway needs a spokesperson to decide if he is hungry or not," England said, and Norway took the ghastly food.

Don't do it, Denmark prayed. Don't do it. Don't do it.

Norway raised the food to his mouth, and Denmark moved forwards to help his friend. Norway took a bite, and Denmark dashed forwards.

"It's not great," Norway shrugged carelessly. "But it's not as terrible as everybody says."

Denmark froze. Nobody had ever said that about England's food. Nobody. What the hell was wrong with Norway?

"I told that American twit that British cuisine was far greater than anything else!" England proclaimed triumphantly, leaving Denmark to gawp in amazement.

Norway should by lying on the floor, choking and dying and screaming. England's scones were terrible! Absolutely revolting!

"How...?"

Norway ignored the Dane, turning instead to ask a question to one of the invisible trolls.

Norway had eaten one of England's scones.

England's scones.

Denmark promptly decided that Norway had to be some sort of Super-Nation.

 

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Sorry, the ending on that one probably wasn't great. Meh... My apologies if England was OOC...

~Soul

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