I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 1/4
anonymous
November 8 2009, 09:59:58 UTC
This is my first fill here… ah forget it, this is my first complete fanfiction ever. Shoot me. I wrote this all in one go, as in, I saw the prompt one evening, and left the library at 6:30am the next day. That can’t be how people normally write these things, seriously… =__=;;; Luckily I did edit it over the next few days, so I hope this is readable. All criticism is welcome.
The request was for “angsty confession” so, er… this immediately came to my mind. I hope OP likes.
While writing this, at first I was like, “I hate my favorite character!” Then later it became “I hate this whole pairing! Why can’t I ship something less FAIL?” TAT
I apologize for starting off with this Author’s Note, but I want to leave the end the way it is without me gunking it up with my rambling. I hope that makes sense by the time you get there. Now I must go write some fluff before my heart bleeds. Please enjoy.
Oh yes, disclaimer: WARNING! Never go into the mountains at night! Always plan your hiking trips carefully so that you will arrive at a town, camp, or lodge before nightfall! Leave a plan of your route behind at your hotel or with a park ranger! The weather can change very quickly in the mountains, so carry clothing for all conditions! This story is not an accurate representation of trekking, hiking, rock climbing, ice climbing, mixed climbing, or other forms of alpinism; the procedure described below will most likely result in your DEATH. Thank you and enjoy your stay.
Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock
Norway looked up from his book. He certainly wasn’t expecting any guests, and he had chosen this house (conveniently located on a mountaintop, no service road, no running water, no cellular signal, great view of the sunset) for a reason. He carefully placed a bookmark between the pages and set the book down. His boss could contact him by satellite phone if need be, so who this could be was a mystery. Occasionally he got a hiker or two, but the season and time of day ruled that one out.
Norway stood up and adjusted the cover on the couch. Padding over to the entryway, he looked out the peep hole. Blackness. Ah, he didn’t have a porch light at this house, of course. Now why had he put a peep hole in that door anyway? He paused to ponder this.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
The noise right next to his face startled him, and he stepped back. No manners, this person. Norway was about to look out the triple-pane window but remembered that the shutters would be latched at this time of year anyway. These options exhausted, he considered what to do next.
Certainly he had one of the lowest crime rates in the world, so there was no reason for concern. That being said, one had to take the circumstances into consideration, he though. He walked back across the room and opened the storage closet. After rummaging for a moment, he found his desired tool. He judged its weight for a moment; it fit quite nicely in his hand.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM
Now really, that was unnecessary. Norway glared at the door. He replaced the tool and picked up a similar one of a larger size. Thus prepared, he went to greet his unfortunate guest. The fact that he had to so much as open the door was irritating; all the warmth would escape the house in a matter of seconds. Whoever this was had better be worth it. Norway undid the lock and reluctantly turned the handle.
I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 2/4
anonymous
November 8 2009, 10:02:41 UTC
“Hej, Norge!” and a blast of Arctic air hit him simultaneously, “I thought you would never open up, it’s fucking freezing out here!”
Ah. The light from the doorway illuminated Denmark: visibly shivering, hunched over against the wind - in pain - that was good.
“Why are you here.”
“Uh, why are you carrying an ice axe?” Denmark forced past his chattering teeth, looking down nervously.
“That depends directly on your answer.”
“Well, uh, hahaha, just in the neighborhood, I guess!” Denmark grinned sheepishly.
That clearly didn’t merit a response.
“Thought I’d, you know, drop by, see how you’re doing…”
“You climbed up this mountain in the darkness for a social call.”
“Well I didn’t exactly expect the sun to set at fucking 2pm!”
“You’re an idiot.”
Denmark, ever the expert at mountaineering. He was probably alive just by sheer dumb luck. Norway decided not to mention this; Denmark would probably take it as a compliment. But the location and latitude aside, what was this moron even doing in the country? Damn the Passport Union, was nowhere safe anymore?
“Heh heh, I guess I just wanted to talk to you or something.” Denmark hopped from foot to foot looking at Norway expectantly.
Apparently he wanted to be let in. Well, Norway would put an end to that. Before Denmark could react, Norway stepped back inside and quickly locked the door. Denmark wanted to talk? Fine. But Norway would be damned if it happened over biscuits and coffee.
So setting the axe down, he went around his house collecting articles of winter clothing. A second pair of socks, long underwear he already had on, snow pants, another sweater… to think the fool had climbed all the way up here, for no reason, for no reason at all except… Norway paused. He glanced at a mirror to check if he was still frowning. Good.
Something might have been yelling outside, but it was difficult to hear over the howling wind… mittens, scarf, coat, boots, and an electric lantern. He carefully put everything on, making sure to overlap layers and close any gaps. Norway was a firm believer in there being no such thing as bad weather, just bad preparation. And it really wasn’t that bad, for the dead of winter. He didn’t let himself be distracted by the dull thump of something repeatedly body-slamming the door. Once fully dressed, he again opened the door and closed it quickly behind him.
And was promptly smashed into by a large, flying Dane. A miscalculation on his own part, Norway admitted as he hit the ground.
“Oh shit! Sorry Norge, are you okay? Fuck, I’m sorry!” Denmark knelt down next to him, “Fuck, Norge, speak to me, SPEAK TO MEEE!”
Denmark slid his arms underneath Norway and lifted him up (which he always did with far too little effort, damn him).
“Shitshitshitshit! Where’s the nearest doctor?! Do you have a helipad up here?! Oh God, Norge, say something, anything! What ever you do, stay away from the light! Can you hear me?! AVOID THE LIGHT, NORGEEE--!!“
A Norwegian Army boot, standard issue, put an end to that statement.
I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 3/4
anonymous
November 8 2009, 10:10:23 UTC
And then they both lay on the ground. But Denmark had hit a patch of ice and slid audibly into a boulder, so Norway counted it as a success.
Norway stood up and dusted himself off. Denmark was clutching his head, blood streaming out of his nose. The look suited him. Norway walked over, picking up the fallen lantern.
“So you wanted to talk.”
Denmark didn’t answer immediately, holding his red and white scarf to his face.
“Yes, ow, Jesus, I did.” eventually came out of the wool.
Norway stayed silent.
“Wow, heh, that sure was one hell of a greeting, Norge!” Denmark said and the trademark grin hadn’t left his face, which looked a little stupid with all the blood.
“Damn, do you ever have good legs!”
Kick.
“AUGH MY RIBS! Ok, ok, maybe I deserved that one, but let me at least stand up, man!”
Which Norway graciously did.
“Did you come all this way just to satisfy your masochistic tendencies?” Norway asked.
“What? Oh, haha, when you put it that way,” and that was when the smile seemed a little bit crooked.
Why right then, Norway wondered, but didn’t say anything.
The wind screamed particularly loudly for a moment, and he watched Denmark quake while they waited for it to die down.
“But anyway, dude, I came here…uh, to talk, I guess. With you.”
Denmark looked at Norway hopefully for a moment. His smile fell a little bit at the silence.
“So yeah, uh, recently I was thinking…”
“News to me.”
“Well I was thinking about this for a while,” Denmark plowed forward, “But I guess recently it all just sorta came together, and, um…”
Norway waited.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is…”
It was highly unusual to see Denmark so troubled. The way he couldn’t make eye contact, his eyes darting around his feet, his frozen ears turning even redder… Norway had to bite his lip to school his expression.
“Well, when two nations… yeah, two nations share, uh, know each other… for a long time, then sometimes those two nations… might, er, like to hang out… more often? Well not too often or anything, but um, if the two nations like…being…together…then maybe their, uh association…um, that is, maybe they might, er, want to, well, share… more… things?”
And then Norway’s stomach tightened as he realized exactly where this was going.
“And I’m here because I…you… you and me, um, we could--!”
“You do know I’ve heard this all before.” Norway interrupted coldly.
“What?” Denmark looked up bewildered, “Oh, that. No no no, Norge, it’s not-!”
“Oh that. Is ‘oh that’ all you have to say for yourself? Because our ‘association,’ as you so named it, has certainly had a far graver effects than ‘oh that’.”
“What? Seriously Norge, this isn’t like then-“
“Oh I know times have changed. You insult me by thinking that I’m expecting some form of outdated imperialism here.”
“Then what the fuck are you talking about?”
“What is it?” Norway gritted his teeth, “Because it clearly impacted me far more than you, I suppose I must spell it out for you.”
“Norge, Norge hold on-!”
“No. Shut up and listen. Do you realize, that for all the time we have known each other, for all that time, the only thing you have ever thought about is yourself? How dare you assume that I am somehow dependent upon you? If you would get off your high horse for one single moment, you would see that the world does not revolve around you, it has never revolved around you, and the only thing that ever bound your ‘two nations’ was you forcing them together!”
“Norge, please stop, wait, I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Denmark cried.
“A bad way?”
“Yes, yes, Norge listen to me!” Denmark grabbed Norway’s shoulders and Norway always hated that because it felt like he was being pushed into the ground.
“Look, fuck, I didn’t want it to be like this but fuck it, I’m sorry, I just love you!”
I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 4/4
anonymous
November 8 2009, 10:14:48 UTC
It rang out across the mountaintop.
“You what.”
“Yes, I… dammit, I love the way you look at me with exasperation, I love how you’re always half asleep before your morning coffee, I love how you smile when you think no one’s looking, I love how soft your hair is, I love the way your shirts are always perfectly ironed, I love your hands, I love -“
“And what,” Norway interrupted, eyes burning, “Gives you that right? Tell me, what the fuck makes you think you have that right?”
Denmark stared in shock. His hands fell down to his sides.
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me such a thing? Well, Kongeriget Danmark? What the fuck have you done to me, my people, my fucking language?!”
“Humans forget, history forgets, but we never forget! Do you realize how long, how hard my people fought to get me to where I am today, an independent nation?! Do you think I can ever repay that debt? And then, then you waltz over here and expect me to spit in their faces?”
“You can have your little fantasies, thinking you make a fine human, but you are not! We are not human, we cannot change who we are, and we will always be countries before anything else! Is that clear?”
“Norge …” Denmark’s voice cracked, “But Norge, I know, I know I saw you smiling, you liked… you must have liked…”
“You will stop forcing your sentiments onto me.”
“Please…tell me it was real…” Denmark’s voice was fading to a whisper.
“Get the fuck out.”
“Norge…” was barely audible.
“Now.”
And, oh, the way Denmark looked so… broken… felt strange, quite strange, unusually strange, yes, but also… so exhilarating.
Denmark bent over to pick up the lantern; Norway must have dropped it at some point.
Except that he stayed there, stuck awkwardly bent in half and he made a quiet noise, a rather unsightly noise like a rusty door hinge and Norway wanted to cover his ears but he didn’t because he was on fire inside; a searing hot fire, white hot, it felt so clean, so good, so pure, if it could burn everything away, oh, Norway wished it would consume him from the inside out.
Norway didn’t notice when Denmark left. He found himself standing alone in the gale, snowflakes whipping around him.
Some distance below, a tiny light was bobbing in the darkness. It was becoming harder and harder to see as the snow fell faster. Norway didn’t feel cold at all, so that was why he stayed outside. He looked down the slope, watching until the tiny pinprick of light disappeared completely. And then it was just him and the darkness and the howling wind.
Re: I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 4/4
anonymous
November 21 2009, 13:29:16 UTC
absolutely absolutely stunning! I love the dialogues, the imagery (absolutely stunning) and oh anything with DenxNor is always good and this was so heartbreakingly, cruelly good.
Y-your Norway (ESPECIALLY YOUR NORGE) and Denmark are utterly perfect. I love this pairing so damn much (which is why my heart shattered to pieces when Norge not only FLAT OUT rejected DenDen, but rubbed it in his face and was exhilarated by being able to cause him emotional (and physical) pain), and you wrote the both of them so goddamn fucking well ;A;
It's a testimony to Hetalia fandom to remember that no matter how lovable a nation-tan appears, they've done their share of horrible things. (There's a reason why Denmark is so yandere in DenSwe, afterall OTL) Norge is justified in putting down Denmark, but...but...still. He has no gentle streak in him, it seems ;-;
Re: I Like My Coffee Bitter and Frozen Solid 4/4
anonymous
June 25 2011, 05:40:37 UTC
... I think, Norway, you managed to break Denmark.
In five minutes, you managed to do what the rest of the world hasn't for about 1,500 years. Thusly, I am torn between sobbing my eyes out for poor Denmark (he was so convinced!) and applauding Norway for recalling his history (so in-character!).
I'm going to read something that won't make me burst into tears.
I wrote this all in one go, as in, I saw the prompt one evening, and left the library at 6:30am the next day. That can’t be how people normally write these things, seriously… =__=;;;
Luckily I did edit it over the next few days, so I hope this is readable. All criticism is welcome.
The request was for “angsty confession” so, er… this immediately came to my mind. I hope OP likes.
While writing this, at first I was like, “I hate my favorite character!” Then later it became “I hate this whole pairing! Why can’t I ship something less FAIL?” TAT
I apologize for starting off with this Author’s Note, but I want to leave the end the way it is without me gunking it up with my rambling. I hope that makes sense by the time you get there.
Now I must go write some fluff before my heart bleeds.
Please enjoy.
Oh yes, disclaimer:
WARNING! Never go into the mountains at night! Always plan your hiking trips carefully so that you will arrive at a town, camp, or lodge before nightfall! Leave a plan of your route behind at your hotel or with a park ranger! The weather can change very quickly in the mountains, so carry clothing for all conditions! This story is not an accurate representation of trekking, hiking, rock climbing, ice climbing, mixed climbing, or other forms of alpinism; the procedure described below will most likely result in your DEATH. Thank you and enjoy your stay.
Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock
Norway looked up from his book. He certainly wasn’t expecting any guests, and he had chosen this house (conveniently located on a mountaintop, no service road, no running water, no cellular signal, great view of the sunset) for a reason. He carefully placed a bookmark between the pages and set the book down. His boss could contact him by satellite phone if need be, so who this could be was a mystery. Occasionally he got a hiker or two, but the season and time of day ruled that one out.
Norway stood up and adjusted the cover on the couch. Padding over to the entryway, he looked out the peep hole. Blackness. Ah, he didn’t have a porch light at this house, of course. Now why had he put a peep hole in that door anyway? He paused to ponder this.
KNOCK-KNOCK-KNOCK
The noise right next to his face startled him, and he stepped back. No manners, this person. Norway was about to look out the triple-pane window but remembered that the shutters would be latched at this time of year anyway. These options exhausted, he considered what to do next.
Certainly he had one of the lowest crime rates in the world, so there was no reason for concern. That being said, one had to take the circumstances into consideration, he though. He walked back across the room and opened the storage closet. After rummaging for a moment, he found his desired tool. He judged its weight for a moment; it fit quite nicely in his hand.
BAM-BAM-BAM-BAM
Now really, that was unnecessary. Norway glared at the door. He replaced the tool and picked up a similar one of a larger size. Thus prepared, he went to greet his unfortunate guest. The fact that he had to so much as open the door was irritating; all the warmth would escape the house in a matter of seconds. Whoever this was had better be worth it. Norway undid the lock and reluctantly turned the handle.
Reply
Ah. The light from the doorway illuminated Denmark: visibly shivering, hunched over against the wind - in pain - that was good.
“Why are you here.”
“Uh, why are you carrying an ice axe?” Denmark forced past his chattering teeth, looking down nervously.
“That depends directly on your answer.”
“Well, uh, hahaha, just in the neighborhood, I guess!” Denmark grinned sheepishly.
That clearly didn’t merit a response.
“Thought I’d, you know, drop by, see how you’re doing…”
“You climbed up this mountain in the darkness for a social call.”
“Well I didn’t exactly expect the sun to set at fucking 2pm!”
“You’re an idiot.”
Denmark, ever the expert at mountaineering. He was probably alive just by sheer dumb luck. Norway decided not to mention this; Denmark would probably take it as a compliment. But the location and latitude aside, what was this moron even doing in the country? Damn the Passport Union, was nowhere safe anymore?
“Heh heh, I guess I just wanted to talk to you or something.” Denmark hopped from foot to foot looking at Norway expectantly.
Apparently he wanted to be let in. Well, Norway would put an end to that. Before Denmark could react, Norway stepped back inside and quickly locked the door. Denmark wanted to talk? Fine. But Norway would be damned if it happened over biscuits and coffee.
So setting the axe down, he went around his house collecting articles of winter clothing. A second pair of socks, long underwear he already had on, snow pants, another sweater… to think the fool had climbed all the way up here, for no reason, for no reason at all except… Norway paused. He glanced at a mirror to check if he was still frowning. Good.
Something might have been yelling outside, but it was difficult to hear over the howling wind… mittens, scarf, coat, boots, and an electric lantern. He carefully put everything on, making sure to overlap layers and close any gaps. Norway was a firm believer in there being no such thing as bad weather, just bad preparation. And it really wasn’t that bad, for the dead of winter. He didn’t let himself be distracted by the dull thump of something repeatedly body-slamming the door. Once fully dressed, he again opened the door and closed it quickly behind him.
And was promptly smashed into by a large, flying Dane. A miscalculation on his own part, Norway admitted as he hit the ground.
“Oh shit! Sorry Norge, are you okay? Fuck, I’m sorry!” Denmark knelt down next to him, “Fuck, Norge, speak to me, SPEAK TO MEEE!”
Denmark slid his arms underneath Norway and lifted him up (which he always did with far too little effort, damn him).
“Shitshitshitshit! Where’s the nearest doctor?! Do you have a helipad up here?! Oh God, Norge, say something, anything! What ever you do, stay away from the light! Can you hear me?! AVOID THE LIGHT, NORGEEE--!!“
A Norwegian Army boot, standard issue, put an end to that statement.
Reply
Norway stood up and dusted himself off. Denmark was clutching his head, blood streaming out of his nose. The look suited him. Norway walked over, picking up the fallen lantern.
“So you wanted to talk.”
Denmark didn’t answer immediately, holding his red and white scarf to his face.
“Yes, ow, Jesus, I did.” eventually came out of the wool.
Norway stayed silent.
“Wow, heh, that sure was one hell of a greeting, Norge!” Denmark said and the trademark grin hadn’t left his face, which looked a little stupid with all the blood.
“Damn, do you ever have good legs!”
Kick.
“AUGH MY RIBS! Ok, ok, maybe I deserved that one, but let me at least stand up, man!”
Which Norway graciously did.
“Did you come all this way just to satisfy your masochistic tendencies?” Norway asked.
“What? Oh, haha, when you put it that way,” and that was when the smile seemed a little bit crooked.
Why right then, Norway wondered, but didn’t say anything.
The wind screamed particularly loudly for a moment, and he watched Denmark quake while they waited for it to die down.
“But anyway, dude, I came here…uh, to talk, I guess. With you.”
Denmark looked at Norway hopefully for a moment. His smile fell a little bit at the silence.
“So yeah, uh, recently I was thinking…”
“News to me.”
“Well I was thinking about this for a while,” Denmark plowed forward, “But I guess recently it all just sorta came together, and, um…”
Norway waited.
“I guess what I’m trying to say is…”
It was highly unusual to see Denmark so troubled. The way he couldn’t make eye contact, his eyes darting around his feet, his frozen ears turning even redder… Norway had to bite his lip to school his expression.
“Well, when two nations… yeah, two nations share, uh, know each other… for a long time, then sometimes those two nations… might, er, like to hang out… more often? Well not too often or anything, but um, if the two nations like…being…together…then maybe their, uh association…um, that is, maybe they might, er, want to, well, share… more… things?”
And then Norway’s stomach tightened as he realized exactly where this was going.
“And I’m here because I…you… you and me, um, we could--!”
“You do know I’ve heard this all before.” Norway interrupted coldly.
“What?” Denmark looked up bewildered, “Oh, that. No no no, Norge, it’s not-!”
“Oh that. Is ‘oh that’ all you have to say for yourself? Because our ‘association,’ as you so named it, has certainly had a far graver effects than ‘oh that’.”
“What? Seriously Norge, this isn’t like then-“
“Oh I know times have changed. You insult me by thinking that I’m expecting some form of outdated imperialism here.”
“Then what the fuck are you talking about?”
“What is it?” Norway gritted his teeth, “Because it clearly impacted me far more than you, I suppose I must spell it out for you.”
“Norge, Norge hold on-!”
“No. Shut up and listen. Do you realize, that for all the time we have known each other, for all that time, the only thing you have ever thought about is yourself? How dare you assume that I am somehow dependent upon you? If you would get off your high horse for one single moment, you would see that the world does not revolve around you, it has never revolved around you, and the only thing that ever bound your ‘two nations’ was you forcing them together!”
“Norge, please stop, wait, I didn’t mean it in a bad way!” Denmark cried.
“A bad way?”
“Yes, yes, Norge listen to me!” Denmark grabbed Norway’s shoulders and Norway always hated that because it felt like he was being pushed into the ground.
“Look, fuck, I didn’t want it to be like this but fuck it, I’m sorry, I just love you!”
Reply
“You what.”
“Yes, I… dammit, I love the way you look at me with exasperation, I love how you’re always half asleep before your morning coffee, I love how you smile when you think no one’s looking, I love how soft your hair is, I love the way your shirts are always perfectly ironed, I love your hands, I love -“
“And what,” Norway interrupted, eyes burning, “Gives you that right? Tell me, what the fuck makes you think you have that right?”
Denmark stared in shock. His hands fell down to his sides.
“Who the hell do you think you are to tell me such a thing? Well, Kongeriget Danmark? What the fuck have you done to me, my people, my fucking language?!”
“Humans forget, history forgets, but we never forget! Do you realize how long, how hard my people fought to get me to where I am today, an independent nation?! Do you think I can ever repay that debt? And then, then you waltz over here and expect me to spit in their faces?”
“You can have your little fantasies, thinking you make a fine human, but you are not! We are not human, we cannot change who we are, and we will always be countries before anything else! Is that clear?”
“Norge …” Denmark’s voice cracked, “But Norge, I know, I know I saw you smiling, you liked… you must have liked…”
“You will stop forcing your sentiments onto me.”
“Please…tell me it was real…” Denmark’s voice was fading to a whisper.
“Get the fuck out.”
“Norge…” was barely audible.
“Now.”
And, oh, the way Denmark looked so… broken… felt strange, quite strange, unusually strange, yes, but also… so exhilarating.
Denmark bent over to pick up the lantern; Norway must have dropped it at some point.
Except that he stayed there, stuck awkwardly bent in half and he made a quiet noise, a rather unsightly noise like a rusty door hinge and Norway wanted to cover his ears but he didn’t because he was on fire inside; a searing hot fire, white hot, it felt so clean, so good, so pure, if it could burn everything away, oh, Norway wished it would consume him from the inside out.
Norway didn’t notice when Denmark left. He found himself standing alone in the gale, snowflakes whipping around him.
Some distance below, a tiny light was bobbing in the darkness. It was becoming harder and harder to see as the snow fell faster. Norway didn’t feel cold at all, so that was why he stayed outside. He looked down the slope, watching until the tiny pinprick of light disappeared completely. And then it was just him and the darkness and the howling wind.
Reply
It was beautiful, author-anons ;A;
*offers food*
Reply
*gratefully accepts* It broke my heart too, agh...
Reply
But still, extremely lovely fill, writer!Anon! Lovely and heart-wrenching D:
Reply
Thank you very much.
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Y-your Norway (ESPECIALLY YOUR NORGE) and Denmark are utterly perfect. I love this pairing so damn much (which is why my heart shattered to pieces when Norge not only FLAT OUT rejected DenDen, but rubbed it in his face and was exhilarated by being able to cause him emotional (and physical) pain), and you wrote the both of them so goddamn fucking well ;A;
It's a testimony to Hetalia fandom to remember that no matter how lovable a nation-tan appears, they've done their share of horrible things. (There's a reason why Denmark is so yandere in DenSwe, afterall OTL) Norge is justified in putting down Denmark, but...but...still. He has no gentle streak in him, it seems ;-;
*sobs quietly* Nevertheless, wonderful job, anon. *gives cookies* ;-;
Reply
Reply
In five minutes, you managed to do what the rest of the world hasn't for about 1,500 years. Thusly, I am torn between sobbing my eyes out for poor Denmark (he was so convinced!) and applauding Norway for recalling his history (so in-character!).
I'm going to read something that won't make me burst into tears.
Reply
Leave a comment