Snowball - Nordic Ensemble
Title: Snowball
Rating: G
This is a drabble about the Nordics having a snowball fight that I wrote some time ago. It was supposed to be the beginning of something longer, but I forgot what. So now it's just this. Perhaps I just want to live vicariously through them, since I can't have snowball fights. Enjoy.
Whose idea had this been? Probably Denmark’s. Yes, Sweden decided that it must have been Denmark’s. Only he could come up with an idea this fantastically bad and yet manage to convince them all that it was good.
Or at least convince Finland and Iceland that it was a good idea. And in the interest of protecting the two smallest Nordic countries from any further idiocy at the hands of the Dane, Sweden and Norway had ended up here as well. Because where Finland went, Sweden tended to follow if he could, and Norway was certainly not going to leave his little brother alone with Denmark if he could help it.
‘Here’ was a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere. Sweden thought they might be in Norway, but he wasn’t sure. It was winter, and the snow outside piled up all the way to the windowsills except where it had been shoveled away from doors and small paths cleared to the woodshed and the sauna. Denmark’s idea had been for the five of them to go “up North somewhere” and spend a month or two “roughing it” in the wilderness “like old times”.
So now they were here, in this little three bedroom cabin with a freezer full of moose meat and a pantry full of canned food and beer waiting for the snow to melt enough for them to drive home. And it wasn’t actually going quite as badly as Sweden had expected.
It helped that they weren’t actually roughing it like old times. The cabin had modern appliances, central heating, and electricity when the weather wasn’t too bad. They even got a couple radio stations. And though it was a little cramped for five people, a dog and a puffin they had certainly been in worse situations.
The weather had been nice the past few days, which meant they had been spending the few daylight hours that they were given out in the sun. Norway suggested that they get more firewood while the weather was still nice, so they trudged through the snow in search of relatively dry wood. Hanatamago bounded along with them through powder taller than her little legs were high, indistinguishable from the snow around them except for the bright red sweater Sweden had made her specifically because tiny white dogs were easily lost in large snowfields.
They had left the cabin with perfect intention to do something productive that day. But as had a tendency to happen when all five of them were together those plans went down the drain fairly quickly.
A snowball hit the back of Sweden’s head, causing him to stop in his tracks. He froze for a moment in surprise, and then quickly wiped the snow away before it could get into his shirt. Behind him he could hear Denmark cackling softly. So the tall nation bent down, packed a snowball very purposefully, and threw it right back. Denmark dodged; the snowball kept flying and hit Iceland in the face. Iceland retaliated. Sweden used Finland as a shield. Finland shoved a handful of snow down Sweden’s shirt. Attempting to get the ice out of his clothes, Sweden accidentally knocked Norway into a deep snowdrift. Norway attempted to throw a snowball at him but missed and hit Denmark instead, although that may have been on purpose. Chaos ensued.
Alliances were quickly forged and just as quickly abandoned in favor of causing even more pandemonium. More than a few times ice was pushed unceremoniously under clothing, causing the victim to shriek with laughter and indignation and hop about in a way that usually made the others collapse into laughter as well.
Hours later they had collapsed into the snow, now well trodden from their snowball fight. Even Hanatamago was exhausted from running around yapping at them. Iceland’s puffin sat in a nearby tree watching them haughtily, the self-appointed referee of their games.
Norway was the first to sit up, brushing snow off of his coat as he stood and went to pick up his hat from where it had fallen and beat the snow out of it before putting it on again. “It’s going to be dark soon,” he said flatly. They all got the message; they had failed at their mission.
“At least it was fun!” Denmark was happy to point out.
It took longer to get back to the cabin than it had for them to get to the woods that morning. But they were tired and damp and quite cold by the time they finally headed home, trudging through the snow with a bird and a dog at their heels.
Rating: G
This is a drabble about the Nordics having a snowball fight that I wrote some time ago. It was supposed to be the beginning of something longer, but I forgot what. So now it's just this. Perhaps I just want to live vicariously through them, since I can't have snowball fights. Enjoy.
Whose idea had this been? Probably Denmark’s. Yes, Sweden decided that it must have been Denmark’s. Only he could come up with an idea this fantastically bad and yet manage to convince them all that it was good.
Or at least convince Finland and Iceland that it was a good idea. And in the interest of protecting the two smallest Nordic countries from any further idiocy at the hands of the Dane, Sweden and Norway had ended up here as well. Because where Finland went, Sweden tended to follow if he could, and Norway was certainly not going to leave his little brother alone with Denmark if he could help it.
‘Here’ was a tiny cabin in the middle of nowhere. Sweden thought they might be in Norway, but he wasn’t sure. It was winter, and the snow outside piled up all the way to the windowsills except where it had been shoveled away from doors and small paths cleared to the woodshed and the sauna. Denmark’s idea had been for the five of them to go “up North somewhere” and spend a month or two “roughing it” in the wilderness “like old times”.
So now they were here, in this little three bedroom cabin with a freezer full of moose meat and a pantry full of canned food and beer waiting for the snow to melt enough for them to drive home. And it wasn’t actually going quite as badly as Sweden had expected.
It helped that they weren’t actually roughing it like old times. The cabin had modern appliances, central heating, and electricity when the weather wasn’t too bad. They even got a couple radio stations. And though it was a little cramped for five people, a dog and a puffin they had certainly been in worse situations.
The weather had been nice the past few days, which meant they had been spending the few daylight hours that they were given out in the sun. Norway suggested that they get more firewood while the weather was still nice, so they trudged through the snow in search of relatively dry wood. Hanatamago bounded along with them through powder taller than her little legs were high, indistinguishable from the snow around them except for the bright red sweater Sweden had made her specifically because tiny white dogs were easily lost in large snowfields.
They had left the cabin with perfect intention to do something productive that day. But as had a tendency to happen when all five of them were together those plans went down the drain fairly quickly.
A snowball hit the back of Sweden’s head, causing him to stop in his tracks. He froze for a moment in surprise, and then quickly wiped the snow away before it could get into his shirt. Behind him he could hear Denmark cackling softly. So the tall nation bent down, packed a snowball very purposefully, and threw it right back. Denmark dodged; the snowball kept flying and hit Iceland in the face. Iceland retaliated. Sweden used Finland as a shield. Finland shoved a handful of snow down Sweden’s shirt. Attempting to get the ice out of his clothes, Sweden accidentally knocked Norway into a deep snowdrift. Norway attempted to throw a snowball at him but missed and hit Denmark instead, although that may have been on purpose. Chaos ensued.
Alliances were quickly forged and just as quickly abandoned in favor of causing even more pandemonium. More than a few times ice was pushed unceremoniously under clothing, causing the victim to shriek with laughter and indignation and hop about in a way that usually made the others collapse into laughter as well.
Hours later they had collapsed into the snow, now well trodden from their snowball fight. Even Hanatamago was exhausted from running around yapping at them. Iceland’s puffin sat in a nearby tree watching them haughtily, the self-appointed referee of their games.
Norway was the first to sit up, brushing snow off of his coat as he stood and went to pick up his hat from where it had fallen and beat the snow out of it before putting it on again. “It’s going to be dark soon,” he said flatly. They all got the message; they had failed at their mission.
“At least it was fun!” Denmark was happy to point out.
It took longer to get back to the cabin than it had for them to get to the woods that morning. But they were tired and damp and quite cold by the time they finally headed home, trudging through the snow with a bird and a dog at their heels.