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Title: Dragged
Author/Artist: Hinata Plusle
Prompt: Norway, Iceland - Ocean/Sailing - Modern or 1600s
Other characters: none
Rating: K
Content notes: none
Summary: He couldn’t believe he was being dragged along his own lands because of the ocean, of all things possible. Couldn’t Norway look at it at his own home?

Iceland never quite understood his brother’s obsession with the ocean. Perhaps it was just him, but, having been born and raised with water surrounding him all the time, the younger one couldn’t really see what was so special about it. Okay, many people claimed to see something special in small things, and he did see many special aspects in lots of seemingly menial stuff, but the ocean just wasn’t one of them. It was obvious, and not poetically obvious, just plainly obvious. In fact, if Iceland had to pick the most boring of the four elements, he’d probably choose water, and a thing filled with water – water that he couldn’t even drink as it was, on top of that – was probably not a very good candidate for something he liked.

Then again, he knew his tastes weren’t exactly common – well, neither were Norway’s, but still. What truly mattered now was that he was being dragged along the shore at his own lands by his older brother, God only knows where to – while Iceland had a very good idea where they were, Norway hadn’t mentioned where he wanted to go or what he wanted to do. On top of that, it wasn’t really a place they went to frequently, which left the Icelander a bit at loss.

Asking what the hell was going on wasn’t going to work either, he quickly realized. To be honest, he didn’t even try – the platinum blond didn’t have to, for he knew the person dragging him along well enough to know it’d be futile anyway. Of course, that didn’t mean he just accepted it passively. It was quite the opposite, sincerely. The usually not-so-happy Icelander was somehow even more grumpy than usual, not quite being helpful in any way when it came to walking along. He knew that wouldn’t really change anything – Norway was still much stronger than him –, but that by no means meant he wouldn’t make his opinion on that whole thing clear.

Norway never took his goddamn eyes away from the sea. Iceland rolled his eyes. He couldn’t believe he was being dragged along his own lands because of the ocean, of all things possible. Couldn’t Norway look at it at his own home? Supposedly, there were lots of sea and many great views of the ocean there too, ones he knew the older man was more used to and therefore would probably enjoy much more.

Iceland got tired of being just dragged along. While he knew Norway would never answer where they were going before they got there, perhaps asking something indirectly would work.

“Are we close to it already?”

To which he got a silent nod, but nothing more.

They kept walking, and walking, and walking.

Iceland started complaining about it taking it too long and being tired, but he was promptly ignored. More than once, he was tempted to just storm away and go back home where there was a blanket, heating and food waiting for him, but somehow it just seemed wrong to ignore whatever Norway wanted to show him, dragging him along the shore and watching the ocean as if there was something beyond it he wanted the Icelander to see.

Well, it better be something really good.
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