[Fanfiction] High Above
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nordipaloozaTitle: High Above
Author/Artist: Caffinatedstory
Prompt: Norway, Denmark - Unpacking
Rating: T
Summary: Norway successfully drags Denmark up a mountain, Denmark is less successful at getting down. Because nothing says brotherly bonding time like a 'hyttetur'
“This is yours...” Norway grumbles and holds a red shirt up for Denmark to see. “Do tell me how it ended up in my bag.”
“I didn't have space in mine,” Denmark shrugs and returns to digging out the contents of his own bag.
“No space?” Norway stares at him with a frown. “What in the old gods name did you bring?”
“Oh well,” Denmark laughs and bends down to retrieve a six-pack of beer from his bag. “Just the essentials.”
“We're going hiking. Not drinking.”
“Who says we can't do both?” Denmark smiles sheepishly at Norway.
“Your drunk ass when I make you scale a mountain at 5 in the morning,” Norway replies without a single trace of a lie.
“Your idea of a holiday sucks,” Denmark frowns.
“You're the one who wanted to join me...” Norway reminds him with a roll of his eyes before he throws the red shirt in Denmark's face. “So you have no right to complain.”
“But I thought it would be some good brotherly bonding! You know, chop down a tree or two. Light them on fire and drink some beer?”
“We're not chopping down trees,” Norway sighs. “It's not allowed.”
“They're your trees, aren't they?”
“Not the point.”
“Can we still drink?”
“No.”
Denmark huffs and shoves the cans of beer in the cellar with frown. So much for that vacation he thinks and returns to unpacking the rest of his things.
At least he's moderately more prepared this time than last.
Half his clothes are made of wool.
A lesson he learned last time when he forgot most of his warm clothes and had to borrow sweaters and wool underwear from Norway.
Denmark chuckles at the memory.
He's not sure who was more mortified.
Norway or him.
The little cottage is far from modern.
No running water and made entirely from large logs; the only way to heat it is to light a fire in the fireplace.
Norway had the option to add electricity to it some time in the 80's, but he declined.
Denmark both hates and loves it.
The little cottage holds a certain charm to it as it's permanently frozen in time in it's primitiveness.
Modern comforts are so much better after a week in the middle of nowhere.
True to his words, Norway does drag him out of bed at five.
The horror is made a little less awful by the fact that there is breakfast and coffee ready made for him by the time Denmark actually manages to make a coherent though and put his clothes on the right way.
(No of course his long sleeved shirt isn't the wrong way around Nor. How dare you say that?)
Norway packs them lunch before ushering Denmark outside.
He certainly can't fault the smell of fresh and clean air.
The mountain air does wonders to wake him up and for the first half of their hike Denmark is more than optimistic enough.
The second part is another story.
“Urgh,” Denmark grunt and hoists himself up the final ledge. “I hate you,” he ads breathlessly as he lies haplessly on the hard rock.
“I know you do,” Norway smirks. “That's what brothers are for,” he chuckles and helps Denmark up to his feet.
“Why do you torture me so?” Denmark leans heavily on Norway, pretending his legs no longer work – it's all worth it just to see Norway's eye narrow before he tries to twist his way out of Denmark's side hug.
“Because,” he replies simply and pinches Denmark's side.
“Aww,” Denmark pouts. “Can't we at least slow down?”
“No,” Norway replies with a smirk and continues up the steep and rocky mountain.
“Dick,” Denmark grumbles before he reluctantly follows.
By the time he reaches the top, Denmark's pulse is racing and he's pretty sure this will be the death of him.
“Come on,” Norway laughs and helps him up the last few metres.
“I hate you,” Denmark utters between breaths.
“Yeah, yeah,” Norway waves it off and laughs, spreading a blanket out and inviting Denmark to take a seat. “Here, your reward,” he hands him a piece of kvikk lunsj and Denmark takes it with a shrug; munching on the chocolate and wafer snack as he stares out over the scenery below them.
“Eh, not too bad up here. Air is kinda thin...”
“This is normal air...” Norway replies with an eye-roll. “We're only 1888 meters above sea-level.”
“High enough thank you.” Denmark grumbles. “Besides, this mountain is called Troll church! What the hell?”
“Makes perfect sense,” Norway huffs.
“Sure it does you weirdo,” Denmark laughs. “I can't believe I let you drag me all the way up here.”
“Next year it's Galdhøpiggen ,” Norway smirks.
“No. Not unless you pay me,” Denmark frowns at the idea and ponders pushing Norway down the next non-lethal cliff they find. “I think it's only fair I get some material compensation for this hell. And no way am I climbing any mountains in Jotunheimen. I do not have a death wish. What if I anger some Jotuns?”
“Firstly, no way, am I paying you for climbing anything. That only ends in disaster. Secondly; it's perfectly safe to climb there. I'll personally ensure you don't wake any jotuns on your way up any mountain.” Norway shakes his head.
“Hrm,” Denmark looks thoughtful for a moment. “How about you reward me then?”
“Hu? Reward you? Now?” Norway seems to ponder the suggestion.
“Why not? Don't you think I deserve it?” Denmark grins.
“Fine,” Norway sighs and digs out can of beer from his tatty backpack and hands it to Denmark. “Here.”
Denmark's eyes light up and a huge grin spreads across his face.
“Let me guess,” he laughs. “I only get one because you're worried I'm gonna drink myself off this mountain?”
“Nah, I couldn't be fucked with dragging all of them up here. You can have the rest when we get home.”
“No. This will do.” Denmark smiles and slings an arm around Norway's shoulder, taking a sip from the can before passing it over. “Bit too warm perhaps, but I'm not going to complain,” he laughs.
“Of course you're not,” Norway snorts and takes a sip, passing it back to Denmark without another word.
“Thanks for dragging me up here,” Denmark admits once he's drained the beer can dry. “It's a pretty good view.”
“Beats the flat lands of your pathetic little excuse for a hill,” Norway snorts.
“Himmelberget is a mountain,” Denmark huffs.
“No it's not. It's barely a 'berg',” Norway smirks and ruffled Denmark's already unruly hair. “But keep telling yourself it is, maybe one day it will grow...”
“And then I'll be taller than you in every way,” Denmark laughs and nudges Norway so hard he almost topples over. “Not many things you beat me in these days is it?”
“Speed maybe?” Norway suggests.
“I run faster than you,” Denmark laughs.
“As if,” Norway scoffs. “But I'll race you down the mountain if you want to prove yourself...”
“What? No!” Denmark scrambles to his feet and tries to follow Norway as best he can.
A few minutes later he's stuck on a ledge and begging Norway to come help him down.
Norway caves eventually, helping Denmark back down – but chuckling to himself the entire way down.
Even when Denmark tries to bribe Norway with beer he won't stop smirking – there's simply no escaping the relentless mockery the rest of the night..
Author/Artist: Caffinatedstory
Prompt: Norway, Denmark - Unpacking
Rating: T
Summary: Norway successfully drags Denmark up a mountain, Denmark is less successful at getting down. Because nothing says brotherly bonding time like a 'hyttetur'
“This is yours...” Norway grumbles and holds a red shirt up for Denmark to see. “Do tell me how it ended up in my bag.”
“I didn't have space in mine,” Denmark shrugs and returns to digging out the contents of his own bag.
“No space?” Norway stares at him with a frown. “What in the old gods name did you bring?”
“Oh well,” Denmark laughs and bends down to retrieve a six-pack of beer from his bag. “Just the essentials.”
“We're going hiking. Not drinking.”
“Who says we can't do both?” Denmark smiles sheepishly at Norway.
“Your drunk ass when I make you scale a mountain at 5 in the morning,” Norway replies without a single trace of a lie.
“Your idea of a holiday sucks,” Denmark frowns.
“You're the one who wanted to join me...” Norway reminds him with a roll of his eyes before he throws the red shirt in Denmark's face. “So you have no right to complain.”
“But I thought it would be some good brotherly bonding! You know, chop down a tree or two. Light them on fire and drink some beer?”
“We're not chopping down trees,” Norway sighs. “It's not allowed.”
“They're your trees, aren't they?”
“Not the point.”
“Can we still drink?”
“No.”
Denmark huffs and shoves the cans of beer in the cellar with frown. So much for that vacation he thinks and returns to unpacking the rest of his things.
At least he's moderately more prepared this time than last.
Half his clothes are made of wool.
A lesson he learned last time when he forgot most of his warm clothes and had to borrow sweaters and wool underwear from Norway.
Denmark chuckles at the memory.
He's not sure who was more mortified.
Norway or him.
The little cottage is far from modern.
No running water and made entirely from large logs; the only way to heat it is to light a fire in the fireplace.
Norway had the option to add electricity to it some time in the 80's, but he declined.
Denmark both hates and loves it.
The little cottage holds a certain charm to it as it's permanently frozen in time in it's primitiveness.
Modern comforts are so much better after a week in the middle of nowhere.
True to his words, Norway does drag him out of bed at five.
The horror is made a little less awful by the fact that there is breakfast and coffee ready made for him by the time Denmark actually manages to make a coherent though and put his clothes on the right way.
(No of course his long sleeved shirt isn't the wrong way around Nor. How dare you say that?)
Norway packs them lunch before ushering Denmark outside.
He certainly can't fault the smell of fresh and clean air.
The mountain air does wonders to wake him up and for the first half of their hike Denmark is more than optimistic enough.
The second part is another story.
“Urgh,” Denmark grunt and hoists himself up the final ledge. “I hate you,” he ads breathlessly as he lies haplessly on the hard rock.
“I know you do,” Norway smirks. “That's what brothers are for,” he chuckles and helps Denmark up to his feet.
“Why do you torture me so?” Denmark leans heavily on Norway, pretending his legs no longer work – it's all worth it just to see Norway's eye narrow before he tries to twist his way out of Denmark's side hug.
“Because,” he replies simply and pinches Denmark's side.
“Aww,” Denmark pouts. “Can't we at least slow down?”
“No,” Norway replies with a smirk and continues up the steep and rocky mountain.
“Dick,” Denmark grumbles before he reluctantly follows.
By the time he reaches the top, Denmark's pulse is racing and he's pretty sure this will be the death of him.
“Come on,” Norway laughs and helps him up the last few metres.
“I hate you,” Denmark utters between breaths.
“Yeah, yeah,” Norway waves it off and laughs, spreading a blanket out and inviting Denmark to take a seat. “Here, your reward,” he hands him a piece of kvikk lunsj and Denmark takes it with a shrug; munching on the chocolate and wafer snack as he stares out over the scenery below them.
“Eh, not too bad up here. Air is kinda thin...”
“This is normal air...” Norway replies with an eye-roll. “We're only 1888 meters above sea-level.”
“High enough thank you.” Denmark grumbles. “Besides, this mountain is called Troll church! What the hell?”
“Makes perfect sense,” Norway huffs.
“Sure it does you weirdo,” Denmark laughs. “I can't believe I let you drag me all the way up here.”
“Next year it's Galdhøpiggen ,” Norway smirks.
“No. Not unless you pay me,” Denmark frowns at the idea and ponders pushing Norway down the next non-lethal cliff they find. “I think it's only fair I get some material compensation for this hell. And no way am I climbing any mountains in Jotunheimen. I do not have a death wish. What if I anger some Jotuns?”
“Firstly, no way, am I paying you for climbing anything. That only ends in disaster. Secondly; it's perfectly safe to climb there. I'll personally ensure you don't wake any jotuns on your way up any mountain.” Norway shakes his head.
“Hrm,” Denmark looks thoughtful for a moment. “How about you reward me then?”
“Hu? Reward you? Now?” Norway seems to ponder the suggestion.
“Why not? Don't you think I deserve it?” Denmark grins.
“Fine,” Norway sighs and digs out can of beer from his tatty backpack and hands it to Denmark. “Here.”
Denmark's eyes light up and a huge grin spreads across his face.
“Let me guess,” he laughs. “I only get one because you're worried I'm gonna drink myself off this mountain?”
“Nah, I couldn't be fucked with dragging all of them up here. You can have the rest when we get home.”
“No. This will do.” Denmark smiles and slings an arm around Norway's shoulder, taking a sip from the can before passing it over. “Bit too warm perhaps, but I'm not going to complain,” he laughs.
“Of course you're not,” Norway snorts and takes a sip, passing it back to Denmark without another word.
“Thanks for dragging me up here,” Denmark admits once he's drained the beer can dry. “It's a pretty good view.”
“Beats the flat lands of your pathetic little excuse for a hill,” Norway snorts.
“Himmelberget is a mountain,” Denmark huffs.
“No it's not. It's barely a 'berg',” Norway smirks and ruffled Denmark's already unruly hair. “But keep telling yourself it is, maybe one day it will grow...”
“And then I'll be taller than you in every way,” Denmark laughs and nudges Norway so hard he almost topples over. “Not many things you beat me in these days is it?”
“Speed maybe?” Norway suggests.
“I run faster than you,” Denmark laughs.
“As if,” Norway scoffs. “But I'll race you down the mountain if you want to prove yourself...”
“What? No!” Denmark scrambles to his feet and tries to follow Norway as best he can.
A few minutes later he's stuck on a ledge and begging Norway to come help him down.
Norway caves eventually, helping Denmark back down – but chuckling to himself the entire way down.
Even when Denmark tries to bribe Norway with beer he won't stop smirking – there's simply no escaping the relentless mockery the rest of the night..
