Heavy Rain, Sunshine, Wind, Calm, and then in the afternoon...
Title: Heavy Rain, Sunshine, Wind, Calm, and then in the afternoon...
Request:
I really enjoy angsty brotherly love/'cest between the pair. Anything that feels very real and raw but exudes a genuine feeling of love between them. Can have a sad/angsty ending. Something with a fall/winter theme. Characters can either be in a relationship already or can not be.
I really enjoy angsty brotherly love/'cest between the pair. Anything that feels very real and raw but exudes a genuine feeling of love between them. Something with a fall/winter theme. Happy ending preferred; would also prefer characters to already have a relationship.
Author's note: I decided to write both requests and so this fic turned into a Choose Your Own Adventure -type serial fic/ficlet project - just click away at the links at the ends of fics and see where you'll end up!
Rating: R, G
Characters/Pairs: Norway/Iceland, Norway, Iceland, Denmark, India
Summary: This story begins in the viking era and ends - well, the ending's up to your choices. :D
Notes: I can honestly say I've never had this much fun writing a serial fic - I hope you like it!
Heavy Rain, Sunshine, Wind, Calm, and then in the afternoon...
The fire crackled happily in the middle of the long room spreading the comforting scent of smoke around it. Iceland watched the gray wisps spiral upwards and disappear through the roof, pulling his knees up on the side bench. The furs underneath him were comforting, soft and warm.
Norway walked in, brushing snow off his shoulders by the doorway. It was another one of those bad winters that dragged on and on, piling their surroundings armpit deep with snow. Year by year the world was turning colder.
He didn't look at Iceland as he walked past and exited through a door to the end of the room that lead to a storage. After a while he returned with two woolen cloaks and wrapped them around Iceland. He accepted them just like he had been presented them, silently. A fool was the man who let his tongue chatter along when he had nothing to say, Iceland thought, having himself written down these very words. It didn't matter. At times like these when there really was nothing to say their shared silence had a deeper meaning than anything they could have tried to put into words.
Iceland frowned into the folds of the cloaks. He was not sure how many more of these cold seasons he would be able to pull through. With the help of Norway things were a little bit easier, but Norway couldn't be always there - he had his own trouble to manage back home - so whenever he chanced to come over there was nothing to do but to try to make the most out of it. Iceland's eyelids felt heavy and he repeated the last part of the thought as if trying to convince himself. Try to make the most out of it. Maybe it wasn't acceptable in the view of the world outside but... he would hang on to any crumbs of warmth he could get.
A cool hand landed on his forehead. Iceland let his eyes close under the gentle touch. Those hands knew him well, too well, but what could he do about it? He could not survive without them, he kept telling himself. It was all just for survival. If his skin burned to the touch or if his body responded so eagerly when they traveled on it it was not because he wanted it, he told himself. Accepting this sort of intimacy from one's own brother wasn't right, but surely it was not all his fault either, surely it was not all wrong. Iceland laid back and let the hands continue their way under the hem of his shirt and up his sides. Try to make the most out of it, he thought, tomorrow Norway would be leaving again.
And then one day Norway was not there any longer
And then one day he learned to live alone
End notes: the code of behaviour Iceland's referencing is called Hávamál, you can find it here.
Request:
I really enjoy angsty brotherly love/'cest between the pair. Anything that feels very real and raw but exudes a genuine feeling of love between them. Can have a sad/angsty ending. Something with a fall/winter theme. Characters can either be in a relationship already or can not be.
I really enjoy angsty brotherly love/'cest between the pair. Anything that feels very real and raw but exudes a genuine feeling of love between them. Something with a fall/winter theme. Happy ending preferred; would also prefer characters to already have a relationship.
Author's note: I decided to write both requests and so this fic turned into a Choose Your Own Adventure -type serial fic/ficlet project - just click away at the links at the ends of fics and see where you'll end up!
Rating: R, G
Characters/Pairs: Norway/Iceland, Norway, Iceland, Denmark, India
Summary: This story begins in the viking era and ends - well, the ending's up to your choices. :D
Notes: I can honestly say I've never had this much fun writing a serial fic - I hope you like it!
Heavy Rain, Sunshine, Wind, Calm, and then in the afternoon...
The fire crackled happily in the middle of the long room spreading the comforting scent of smoke around it. Iceland watched the gray wisps spiral upwards and disappear through the roof, pulling his knees up on the side bench. The furs underneath him were comforting, soft and warm.
Norway walked in, brushing snow off his shoulders by the doorway. It was another one of those bad winters that dragged on and on, piling their surroundings armpit deep with snow. Year by year the world was turning colder.
He didn't look at Iceland as he walked past and exited through a door to the end of the room that lead to a storage. After a while he returned with two woolen cloaks and wrapped them around Iceland. He accepted them just like he had been presented them, silently. A fool was the man who let his tongue chatter along when he had nothing to say, Iceland thought, having himself written down these very words. It didn't matter. At times like these when there really was nothing to say their shared silence had a deeper meaning than anything they could have tried to put into words.
Iceland frowned into the folds of the cloaks. He was not sure how many more of these cold seasons he would be able to pull through. With the help of Norway things were a little bit easier, but Norway couldn't be always there - he had his own trouble to manage back home - so whenever he chanced to come over there was nothing to do but to try to make the most out of it. Iceland's eyelids felt heavy and he repeated the last part of the thought as if trying to convince himself. Try to make the most out of it. Maybe it wasn't acceptable in the view of the world outside but... he would hang on to any crumbs of warmth he could get.
A cool hand landed on his forehead. Iceland let his eyes close under the gentle touch. Those hands knew him well, too well, but what could he do about it? He could not survive without them, he kept telling himself. It was all just for survival. If his skin burned to the touch or if his body responded so eagerly when they traveled on it it was not because he wanted it, he told himself. Accepting this sort of intimacy from one's own brother wasn't right, but surely it was not all his fault either, surely it was not all wrong. Iceland laid back and let the hands continue their way under the hem of his shirt and up his sides. Try to make the most out of it, he thought, tomorrow Norway would be leaving again.
And then one day Norway was not there any longer
And then one day he learned to live alone
End notes: the code of behaviour Iceland's referencing is called Hávamál, you can find it here.