[Fanfiction] Runaway
Title: Runaway
Author: ravn90/caffinatedstory/smokingtulips
Prompt: Iceland, Sweden - Disguises | 1800s or Medieval
Other characters: Mentions of Norway
Rating: PG
Content notes: Set right after Norway joined Sweden in 1814.
Summary: Sweden promised Iceland's safety, Norway made him swear it - but while he thought he could brush the current events under the table it soon becomes clear Iceland knows a bit more than he thought.
It's hard to recognise Iceland under the large hood; hair dyed dark brown with dandelion root and oak bark.
However; the unmistakable frown on his face is easy to spot.
If anyone knew him too well their disguise would be easy to see through.
Under the moonlight and foggy air he near drags the child after him, hoping no one is watching as they make their way to the docks.
"Why?" Iceland asks for what must be the tenth time this hour.
"To protect you," Sweden mumbles.
Norway had asked - politely.
Norway's eyes had begged.
Sweden had said yes far too fast.
Despite Iceland being far from willing to leave his brothers' side, Sweden had promised he would do his best to ensure he got home safely.
Norway was far from happy about the whole situation, and had not exactly kept quiet about his displeasure. However; he had refused to let Iceland go - refused to let the still very young nation live under Denmark's house.
It would only be a matter of time before Denmark would come for Iceland - but neither Sweden nor Norway was going to let Denmark have the child as easily as he had kept the land.
“Why can't I stay with Nor?” Iceland asked quietly, coughing into his tiny fist and looking up at Sweden with watery eyes.
“Because that's no longer possible or allowed,”
“Allowed? Why not?”
“Because you don't belong to him,”
“But we're brothers,”
“I'm afraid that doesn't matter...”
“But... it does...” his voice faded into a whisper.
Sweden had to take a deep breath to calm himself.
He hated everything about himself right now.
And Denmark.
No wonder Norway was so cold and bitter these days. From one place to another - not allowed to be independent and now not allowed to keep his little brother.
Sweden could understand the hate that grew within Norway.
“Look, you'll be fine back home on in your own land,”
“No I won't,” Iceland replied, his grip on Sweden's long coat tightening.
“Sure you will,”
“What if the volcano erupts again?”
Sweden halted, his eyes fixated on Iceland - the kids violet eyes and dark brown hair.
He did a mental calculation.
It was 31 years since Laki had erupted - Iceland had been in fever fits for weeks afterwards.
31 years wasn’t that long even in human years - for a nation it was less than the blink of an eye.
Whispers of an independent Iceland had been heard, but was far from reality. So they said at least.
“Swe?” Iceland asked softly, tugging at the man's coat to drag him out of his own mind.
“Yeah, sorry, let's go,” he shook his head and picked Iceland up, hugging him tightly and whispering an apology to the boy.
He had hoped Iceland wouldn't have to go through hardships, but it seemed that no matter what either of them did the boy was doomed to follow them.
Iceland held onto him tightly, and just like he had been instructed by his brother: he said nothing as they boarded the ship.
“And you are?” a tall man asked, eyeing Sweden up and down.
“Björn Svensson,” Sweden lied, presenting the false documents.
“And the kid?”
“My son,” another lie - but with both their hair dyed dark it was easy to believe.
“Welcome on board Mr. Svensson,” The man took a bow and showed them to their cabin.
It was small, cramped and far from the grandeur Sweden had almost gotten used to the past century or two, but it would do.
“Well,” Sweden sighed and put Iceland down on the bed, helping him out of his large and cumbersome hooded cloak and jacket.
Iceland said little, instead wrapping himself up in the bedsheets and crawling into the corned of the cabin bed.
Sweden watched him with concern, unsure what to say or do to make him feel better.
“We look weird,” Iceland finally said after minutes of silence.
“Weird?”
“Yeah,”
“Because of the dark hair?”
Iceland nodded.
“Can't argue with that,” Sweden chuckled and glanced at himself in the small mirror on the wall.
“Dark hair on us both is quite the change,”
“Yeah,” Iceland nodded again, a hint of a smile at the corner of his lips.
“Nothing beats Denmark with pink hair though,”
“Den had pink hair?” Iceland eyes went wide and he crawled out from the corner of the bed.
“Yeah, tried to dye it red and it didn’t' work very well,”
Iceland giggled happily at the mental image, which was enough to make Sweden crack a smile too.
He really hoped Iceland could smile more; but it didn't seem like there was going to be much to smile about in the future.
Maybe that was partly the reason Norway was so reluctant to let him go?
Iceland brought a smile to Norway's face so easily; and with much less effort than Sweden or Denmark had ever managed.
He didn't doubt that Denmark loved Iceland, he didn't doubt that Denmark wanted the best for the kid too. For all he knew Iceland would be happy with Denmark.
Truth be told; Sweden wasn't sure if Norway was being selfish or selfless by sending Iceland back to his own home.
“Does Nor not like me any more?” Iceland asked as Sweden helped him change him into his night shirt.
“Of course he does,” Sweden reassured him, ruffling Iceland’s dark hair.
“Do I have to leave because you don't like me?”
“No... that's not it either,”
“Then why? We've lived together for years...”
Sweden wasn't sure what to begin with or even how to explain - truth be told he was hoping Iceland would either not ask or understand.
“Things change. Humans go to war and leaders demand compensation,”
“So Nor is your prize?”
The cold tone of Iceland's words made a knot form in Sweden's stomach.
So he did know.
Sweden frowned, not sure if he should be worried or annoyed.
“Not mine exactly,” Sweden grumbled, hoping Iceland couldn't see through his lies as well as Norway always seemed to do.
“I don't want to leave...” Iceland muttered, drawing his knees to his chest and staring at the floor.
“Maybe you can come back as an independent nation,” Sweden suggested.
“Maybe...” Iceland sighed, looking thoughtful.
“Look, it's not forever, you'll be back with Norway in no time I'm sure,” Sweden smiled weakly, nudging Iceland playfully till he gets a small smile from the boy.
“More likely Den...”
Sweden bites his lip, digs his nails into his palm and tries to not get angry.
He's angry because Iceland’s right - and it's not fair that someone who looks so young should know so much.
“Maybe, maybe not,” he lies.
“Yeah... maybe not,” Iceland repeats before crawling back towards the wall side of the bed, back turned towards Sweden and no more words spoken.
He promised him safety - he swore he'd get him back home in one piece.
However; as he watched Iceland fall asleep - breaths becoming heavy and body less tense - he knows that once he leaves the kid there no guarantee of his safety remains.
Norway must know this too, and Sweden assumes that's why there were tears in his eyes when they left.
With a heavy heart and a clouded mind, Sweden can't sleep - no amount of rocking from the sea lulls him to sleep.
The journey is long and hard on the best of days, but today is not a good day at all and it never bodes well to leave with such dark clouds over his mind and judgement.