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Entry tags:
Snapshot [Sweden/Norway]
Title: Snapshot
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Sweden/Norway
Rating: 0+
Length: ~750 words
Summary: Some quiet moments spent in the countryside with Sweden makes Norway recall an earlier, similar time.
Other: Set toward the end of the 19th century (1890s). Written for SuNor week; prompt was "Nostalgia".
Fic partly inspired by a lovely day I spent in the Swedish countryside with a friend. :)
The camera Norway's using is an early Kodak; they were some of the first portable hand-cameras, and didn't require a tripod. At this time, they were available in Europe, but they wouldn't necessarily have been easy to get outside of London - so Sweden's gift is rather fancy indeed. More details for the curious: ***
Snapshot
Norway closed his eyes and rested his head back against the coolness of the moss-covered stone. He breathed deeply, taking in the scent of fresh grasses and summer air.
Having a picnic in the countryside had been Sweden's idea. Good of him, as far as Norway was concerned, for remembering well what sort of things his guest liked. Not that Norway ever tried to hide that he wasn't fond of busy cities – even if that city was the heart of someone that he liked very, very much.
That was how they found themselves in the shade of an old stone church, reduced to little more than rubble by the years, still large enough to cast a shadow to save them from the afternoon sun.
Nothing but the sound of birdsong, and breezes rustling the treetops. In the distance, he heard the rumble of a vehicle, but it passed quickly, leaving them in comfortable silence.
Sweden murmured to him. Norway passed over the coffee thermos. The remains of their lunch would have to be packed away soon, but for the moment, Norway was content to rest in Sweden's company, and think, and remember.
He brushed his fingertips against Sweden's arm, a light and affectionate touch, before returning to the cool softness of the grass.
It had been somewhere near here, hadn't it? Those times they had spent in the countryside together, when they were still under one roof. Norway tried to remember, but couldn't. It hadn't been that long ago, not in comparison to the span of their lives, but still – he couldn't.
What he did remember was long grasses, and wildflowers, and fresh air. Clumsy bees bumbling from blossom to blossom. Sweden sitting in the sunlight, sketching.
Norway remembered the weight of the portable camera in his hands, quite an innovation in those days. Brand new. Flashy. Indulgent. Another one of Sweden's gifts, but this time, Norway hadn't just thanked him for it and then packed it away. Not this one. It had piqued his curiosity far too much.
Those hands holding the graphite stilled, and Sweden looked up at him. "Could take one of you," Sweden murmured, "if y'hand it over."
"No thanks," Norway said. "Rather you didn't." Which was true enough. He'd never been keen on having his picture taken – and he knew Sweden wasn't always thrilled by it either. But Norway wasn't about to let the idea go. "Just keep at what you're doing."
"Oh?"
"Aye, that's right. I've something in mind."
Sweden still looked a bit uncomfortable. For that, Norway couldn't blame him. So strange, all this newfangled technology, and changing so quickly at every turn. But, Norway reasoned, if Sweden objected to having his picture taken, he shouldn't have bought Norway the damn hand-camera to begin with.
For a moment, he turned away, taking pictures of the landscape instead as he gave Sweden a moment to settle. Lovely enough, no doubt; the countryside, and the castle in the distance, and the brightness of the sunlight washing over it all. But....
When Norway looked toward him again, Sweden had gone back to his drawing. Either he'd decided not to be fussed about it, or he'd decided to let Norway do as he liked. As far as Norway was concerned, it amounted to the same thing either way.
Not that it was important, he reasoned as he took the photograph, holding the boxy camera steady in his hands. It was only that it was... a very good day. And a very nice sight. And maybe, perhaps, Norway wanted to have some record of that sight, pin it down somehow.
That was what he had told himself at the time, Norway remembered as he sat with Sweden in the shadow of the church ruins, drinking coffee and listening to birdsong. But there might have been more to it than that.
He still had that picture. Somehow, he'd kept it through the years: the photo of a man in crisp sunlight, his head dipped over a sketchbook, quiet and relaxed, oblivious to the photographer.
Do you remember that day? Norway thought, as he reached for Sweden's hand, smiling a little as those strong, familiar fingers linked with his. Is that why you took me here? It was near here, wasn't it?
He thought about asking, then decided against it. There was no need to know for sure, no need to get particular about it.
It was better to just think on it, and remember.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Sweden/Norway
Rating: 0+
Length: ~750 words
Summary: Some quiet moments spent in the countryside with Sweden makes Norway recall an earlier, similar time.
Other: Set toward the end of the 19th century (1890s). Written for SuNor week; prompt was "Nostalgia".
Fic partly inspired by a lovely day I spent in the Swedish countryside with a friend. :)
The camera Norway's using is an early Kodak; they were some of the first portable hand-cameras, and didn't require a tripod. At this time, they were available in Europe, but they wouldn't necessarily have been easy to get outside of London - so Sweden's gift is rather fancy indeed. More details for the curious: ***
Snapshot
Norway closed his eyes and rested his head back against the coolness of the moss-covered stone. He breathed deeply, taking in the scent of fresh grasses and summer air.
Having a picnic in the countryside had been Sweden's idea. Good of him, as far as Norway was concerned, for remembering well what sort of things his guest liked. Not that Norway ever tried to hide that he wasn't fond of busy cities – even if that city was the heart of someone that he liked very, very much.
That was how they found themselves in the shade of an old stone church, reduced to little more than rubble by the years, still large enough to cast a shadow to save them from the afternoon sun.
Nothing but the sound of birdsong, and breezes rustling the treetops. In the distance, he heard the rumble of a vehicle, but it passed quickly, leaving them in comfortable silence.
Sweden murmured to him. Norway passed over the coffee thermos. The remains of their lunch would have to be packed away soon, but for the moment, Norway was content to rest in Sweden's company, and think, and remember.
He brushed his fingertips against Sweden's arm, a light and affectionate touch, before returning to the cool softness of the grass.
It had been somewhere near here, hadn't it? Those times they had spent in the countryside together, when they were still under one roof. Norway tried to remember, but couldn't. It hadn't been that long ago, not in comparison to the span of their lives, but still – he couldn't.
What he did remember was long grasses, and wildflowers, and fresh air. Clumsy bees bumbling from blossom to blossom. Sweden sitting in the sunlight, sketching.
Norway remembered the weight of the portable camera in his hands, quite an innovation in those days. Brand new. Flashy. Indulgent. Another one of Sweden's gifts, but this time, Norway hadn't just thanked him for it and then packed it away. Not this one. It had piqued his curiosity far too much.
Those hands holding the graphite stilled, and Sweden looked up at him. "Could take one of you," Sweden murmured, "if y'hand it over."
"No thanks," Norway said. "Rather you didn't." Which was true enough. He'd never been keen on having his picture taken – and he knew Sweden wasn't always thrilled by it either. But Norway wasn't about to let the idea go. "Just keep at what you're doing."
"Oh?"
"Aye, that's right. I've something in mind."
Sweden still looked a bit uncomfortable. For that, Norway couldn't blame him. So strange, all this newfangled technology, and changing so quickly at every turn. But, Norway reasoned, if Sweden objected to having his picture taken, he shouldn't have bought Norway the damn hand-camera to begin with.
For a moment, he turned away, taking pictures of the landscape instead as he gave Sweden a moment to settle. Lovely enough, no doubt; the countryside, and the castle in the distance, and the brightness of the sunlight washing over it all. But....
When Norway looked toward him again, Sweden had gone back to his drawing. Either he'd decided not to be fussed about it, or he'd decided to let Norway do as he liked. As far as Norway was concerned, it amounted to the same thing either way.
Not that it was important, he reasoned as he took the photograph, holding the boxy camera steady in his hands. It was only that it was... a very good day. And a very nice sight. And maybe, perhaps, Norway wanted to have some record of that sight, pin it down somehow.
That was what he had told himself at the time, Norway remembered as he sat with Sweden in the shadow of the church ruins, drinking coffee and listening to birdsong. But there might have been more to it than that.
He still had that picture. Somehow, he'd kept it through the years: the photo of a man in crisp sunlight, his head dipped over a sketchbook, quiet and relaxed, oblivious to the photographer.
Do you remember that day? Norway thought, as he reached for Sweden's hand, smiling a little as those strong, familiar fingers linked with his. Is that why you took me here? It was near here, wasn't it?
He thought about asking, then decided against it. There was no need to know for sure, no need to get particular about it.
It was better to just think on it, and remember.