❝ stop! ❞ - DenNor
It was a cold winter’s day in Oslo, some time after Christmas, and Norway planned to spend it with a book and a cup of coffee- and most definitely alone. He rose early, as was his custom, and began to build up the fire in his living room. The flames were dancing merrily soon enough, so he brewed his coffee and sat. Peace washed over him in soft waves. Norway could not remember the last time he had done this- managed to spend a whole day uninterrupted, with only the snow out of his window for company and no noise but a crackling fire. He had just finished the first chapter of his book when the doorbell rang. Norway found himself seriously tempted to ignore it, and so he sipped at his coffee with a renewed air of complacence. Whoever it is, go away. I’ve spent my entire life making sure this country doesn’t collapse, the least you can do is leave me alone. But still the bell rang. Only someone who knew him would be so blatant- only another nation.
‘Stop!’ he yelled, stomping with slippered feet to the door. 'Who is-’ Norway’s voice slid away. In front of him was…was a thing, with three huge boxes in its arms, what looked like four bags slung over its shoulders and pockets stuffed with suspiciously rectangular-shaped items.
'Norge, you there?’ It took considerable effort not to swear just then. Who else would wear out his doorbell so insistently? Who else carried Lego in their pockets, for God’s sake?’
'What do you want, Danmark? It’s January the fourteenth. The next meeting’s not for six days.’
'I thought you’d want to see me!’ came his whine from behind the boxes. 'And you can’t send me back now, I haven’t booked a flight or a ferry-’
'That can easily be arranged.’ He stepped back, closing the door, but Denmark’s foot shot out to stop him.
'Please, Nor.’ Strangely enough, it was the lock of honey-blond hair just visible above the boxes that made Norway relent, not any gifts of persuasion Denmark believed himself to hold.
'Only so I can sort out your hair,’ he muttered. 'I won’t have you in my city looking like that.’ He took the boxes and dumped them in the hallway.
'Thanks, Norge! Knew I could count on you.’ He pretended to dodge Denmark’s hug, just stopping a smile when it came.
'So, why are you here?’ said Norway, flopping back down into his seat near the fire.
'To build a Lego castle! Here-’ Denmark rifled around in his jacket, pulling out a sheaf of heavily pencilled papers. 'These are the blueprints. There’s a secret at the end, but you’ve got to help me build it.’ Norway considered the offer for a moment. Send him away, go back to peace and quiet- or build a Lego castle. The choice should have been easy.
'All right,’ he said at last. 'But I expect you to pay me back in pastry for at least a month.’
'Done!’ They shook hands, a little awkwardly, then Denmark leapt to his feet. 'Let’s build it!’
To Norway’s surprise, the blueprints were neat and detailed- which had Sweden written all over it. Maybe there is more to this than meets the eye. He clicked Lego blocks together until his hands were raw, replying absent-mindedly to Denmark’s chatter and hardly resisting when he set a playlist of Christmas songs going on the speakers. The walls of their little castle rose in a complex pattern of red and blue, white laced here and there between the bricks. Norway stepped back to rub his sore hands. He had to admit, it was an impressive structure, not the usual mad creations Denmark displayed at his own house. Norway could not help but roll his eyes as Wham’s 'Last Christmas’ came floating into the air.
'Really, Den? I’ve been lenient, but it was twenty days ago…’
'Just let the Christmas spirit take you, Nor,’ said Denmark, who was dancing long with his eyes closed. 'You get on and build. It’ll be done soon.’ Norway resisted the urge to throw something at him, and opened the last bag of Lego. There was a lot less in this one, so he set to work quickly.
'It’s done.’ he announced, just as the final notes of 'Last Christmas’ were falling away.
'Close your eyes…’ Norway felt hands covering his eyes. He gave in, letting Denmark pull him back. 'Now-’ The hands dropped with a flourish. And Norway gasped. There in in front of him, constructed entirely from Lego, was a castle. A heart-shaped castle. In the colours of his flag.
'You sentimental idiot.’ This time it was impossible to keep from smiling. 'Why didn’t you do this at Christmas, when it might have held some symbolism?’
'Had the idea on New Year’s Eve. Seemed too good to wait until next year, so here I am. Do you like it?’ Did he? Did he really like a heart-shaped castle built from Lego? My standards are slipping.
'I’ll tolerate it, just as you don’t have any plans to kiss me in it, that sort of thing.’
'Just here’s perfect.’ whispered Denmark in his ear. If I turn, he’ll be right there. Our lips will meet. He stared at the castle. He stared at the floor. And he turned round.
Thanks for the ask! Hope it wasn’t too cheesy :D