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Entry tags:
All soundlessness, all still [Denmark/Norway]
Title: All soundlessness, all still
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: 13+
Length: 2k
Summary: Their first night together isn't like other wedding nights, but they make do.
Other: Set in early 1538. This is Denmark's POV of a drabble I wrote last year* + expanded here. Title comes from "Small Song: Moonlight" by Jan Zwicky.
All soundlessness, all still
After all the noise and ceremony of the day, Denmark found his bedchamber almost unsettling in its stillness.
It was bright with lamps and candles and the fireplace giving a warm, cozy glow. The thick, heavy blankets on the bed were drawn back, ready for what would come next. A bottle of wine and two glasses had been placed on a table, just in case there was need for something to calm the nerves. There very well might be need for that, he thought, anticipation twisting in his belly.
Denmark looked at the only other person in the room. Not just a friend now, but a partner in union. How about that.
Norway's expression was as unreadable as it ever was, his lips set in a thin line that could mean anything. He looked about the room as though he had never been in it before, even though he had been there plenty of times, gaze sliding quietly over the tapestries and paintings. With long, slender fingers he twisted his wedding ring this way and that, as if the weight of it and the broadness of the band kept drawing his attention.
Not that Denmark could blame him for that. Watching Norway fidget drew Denmark's thoughts to his own ring, bringing him to run his thumb over it. The one Norway had given him was narrow and unadorned. Not like anything he'd choose for himself, but there was something very Norway-like about it in its subtlety, and Denmark found he liked that very much.
Getting used to wearing it would take time, but he was looking forward to that. And other things.
"So!" Denmark said as he went over to Norway. "How about this?"
"How about what, exactly?" There was a tired set to Norway's eyes. There always was these days. And today in particular hadn't exactly been short and uneventful.
"This," Denmark said, smiling widely, holding up his hand to show the ring on his finger. "Us." He took one of Norway's hands in his own. It was cold, as Norway's hands usually were, and Denmark gently rubbed at it to get some warmth into him.
He glanced at Norway's face. Just as quiet and still as before, with those dark, pretty eyes watching him, giving nothing away. Whether Norway was thinking about what to say or just biding his time until Denmark spoke again, he couldn't be sure. Ordinarily he would peg it as the latter. It wasn't unusual for Norway to let things sit a while, either because he didn't want to answer or because he'd rather watch Denmark squirm under the weight of his silence until Denmark got tired of waiting and picked up the conversation himself.
But with all that had happened, especially today, it wasn't far fetched to think that Norway might be speechless.
Denmark dropped his gaze and kept massaging at Norway's hand, sliding his thumb over his palm. He knew that this wasn't at all how a wedding night would normally go. But there were certain reasons for that, after all. "Reckon they figured it best to just throw us in here an' let us figure things out," he said cheerfully, trying to ignore his own mounting nervousness. "Considering everything."
"Considering everything."
"Right." Denmark grinned. "Damn funny that we're still expected to consummate this, but I figure it's for the principle of the thing. Metaphorical-like, and all that."
He looked at Norway's face again, and stopped, his hands stilling in their futile attempt at rubbing some warmth into Norway's fingers. Norway had gone pale, the set of his mouth tight, the line of his shoulders stiff. As their eyes met, Norway swallowed, then slowly and carefully pulled his hand from Denmark's grasp.
"Damn foolish," Norway said, breaking eye contact to direct his gaze to the tapestries on the walls once again, as if that had been the subject of their discussion instead of something much more intimate and much more interesting. "All of it."
Denmark frowned. This wasn't going the way he'd hoped. Not the way he'd expected, either. Of course, he hadn't thought that Norway would swoon into his arms or anything like that – he wasn't the type – but this was not the kind of conversation that Denmark had expected to have on his wedding night.
But Norway wasn't wrong, either.
"Could put it that way," Denmark admitted. "But y'know how humans can be about formalities."
"Our union was declared months ago. Before the year turned, even. No need for a wedding at all. But they wanted a ceremony, so we had it. That's fair enough. But this..." Norway paused, teeth worrying at his lower lip as he looked for the right word. "This's nought but foolishness."
"Come on, Nor. It ain't so bad," Denmark said. He took a step toward him and put his hands on Norway's shoulders. At his touch, Norway went rigid, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to deck him or shy away.
Denmark stopped. Thought through the conversation again. Bit his tongue, the better to hold it, and considered Norway's position.
He had been looking forward to this night for months. But by the look of him, Norway hadn't. Not in the least. Denmark had expected some awkwardness, some hesitation; Norway was many things, including bright and sharp-tongued, but he was also surprisingly skittish when it came to personal matters.
This was more than that.
Norway's hand had gone to his ring again, touching it, unaccustomed to it. His body was still tense, his gaze directed away. Finally, he swallowed, and drew himself up, standing rod-straight. "If we're to do this, we'd best get it done," he said. His gaze slid over to meet Denmark's again, nervousness gone from his face, as if he'd packed it up neatly and put it away. All business now.
But that didn't mean that he'd had a change of heart. The tightness of his shoulders beneath Denmark's hands told that much.
Foolishness, Denmark thought. That was what Norway had said. And now, he agreed. There was no need for it. And -
As suddenly as that, he had an idea.
"Nor," Denmark said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Listen. There's no one else here but us, yeah?"
Norway blinked. Frowned. Took his sweet time with answering, sweeping his gaze around the room as if to make sure that the question wasn't a trap. "No," he said, looking at Denmark suspiciously. "No one else."
"So who's to know if we do it or not?"
For a long moment, Norway stared at him. "Leave it aside, you're saying. Let 'em think we went through with it, or whatever they like."
"Right." Denmark dipped his head to speak closer to him, quieting his voice conspiratorially. "We'll muss up the sheets real good before we leave bed in the morning, and nobody'll know the wiser."
Norway let out a long breath. The tension in him eased. He looked relieved, and Denmark wasn't sure quite how to feel about that. But it didn't matter overmuch, he thought. The important part was that he looked more comfortable.
"Well," Norway said. "Guess you do have good ideas now 'n then." A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the barest hint of it, so small that Denmark wouldn't have seen it if they hadn't already been standing so close.
Denmark felt something tighten in his chest. All the disappointment was worth it for that smile. "I do," he said, letting himself grin. "Sometimes." And before he stopped to think, he asked him, "Can I kiss you?"
The smile disappeared as soon as he said it. But Norway didn't pull away or give him the usual sharp remark. He just stood, looking quiet and thoughtful, taking a moment to consider it. The fidgeting with the ring ceased, and his hands dropped to his sides. "Reckon there'd be no harm in that," he said, voice measured and even.
It wasn't the enthusiastic yes that Denmark had been hoping for. But it wasn't a no, either.
Carefully, Denmark cupped Norway's face in his hands. He looked him over, taking in Norway's patient expression. Waiting for him to say something else, to change his mind, anything. At least he didn't look nervous any more, but....
Denmark took a deep breath, then kissed him on the forehead.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Norway looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "D'you call that a kiss?" he asked. Though his voice and expression were sharp, there was a hint of pink in his cheeks.
Denmark grinned. He couldn't stop himself from doing so. "'S good enough, yeah?" he asked.
"No." Norway frowned, looking at him as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in all his years. "Look here, now." His hands came up, gripping Denmark by the front of his clothing.
Denmark nearly bit his tongue in surprise. He sucked in a breath. "I'm listening!"
"If you're going to kiss me, then you ought to do it proper." The expression on Norway's face told very plainly that he doubted if Denmark even knew what he meant by that. "That clear?"
Swallowing, Denmark nodded. "Sure." A pause. He hesitated. "Show me? Please."
He held his breath. Norway watched him, taking a moment longer, as if this were some weighty decision. Then, nodding, he said," Right," and tilted his head up, leaning in to kiss him.
It was soft. Not hesitant, but still soft and slow. The hands gripping Denmark's clothing eased and moved to rest instead at his shoulders, settling there.
Denmark took a gamble: he slid his arms around Norway, not so much holding him as loosely settling his arms about him.
Norway didn't pull away. He didn't tense in Denmark's arms, either. When the kiss broke, he looked up at Denmark, expression unreadable, before moving to rest his head against Denmark's shoulder. It seemed almost as if he were only using Denmark as something to lean against.
Not that Denmark minded, of course.
For a while, they stood there, Norway leaning against Denmark, and Denmark holding him, neither of them saying anything. But the silence was not unpleasant, and Denmark found that while he normally didn't enjoy it, enduring it now was no problem. He trailed his fingers down Norway's back, and listened to the sound of him breathing, and decided that this was pretty nice, all things considered.
In time, Norway let out a sigh. "Been a long day," he murmured, his voice closer to Denmark's ear than it had ever been.
"Ought to get to bed, right?"
A pause. "Ought to get to sleep," Norway corrected.
"'Course, 'course," Denmark agreed. "Just sleep." And he found that he didn't mind in the least. Perhaps, deep down, his feelings on the whole thing hadn't been much different from Norway's, as he felt not disappointed but merely relaxed – and a little bit relieved.
He kissed the top of Norway's head, and then they parted, the both of them at ease.
They dressed for bed quickly and easily, with none of the earlier tension. Denmark went about the room snuffing out candles, until he returned to the bed, and pinched out the final light. As he slid into place beside Norway, he found the bed already warm – and Norway's hands and feet were very, very cold.
"Jesus!" Denmark cursed, sucking in a sharp breath. "You're like ice. Here, I'll -" He took hold of Norway's hands without waiting for a response, pressing them close to his body to warm them.
Norway's silence was thick. It practically had substance. But he didn't resist, and after a moment, he said quietly, "Might find yourself doin' more of that in the future."
Denmark snorted. Let out a huff of a laugh. "I don't mind," he said.
"No?"
"Nah. We're married, right?" Denmark said. It's my job to take care of you, he thought, smiling in the dark and knowing Norway wouldn't see it. He knew better than to dare to say that, of all things. So he said nothing more, and instead brought Norway's hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles.
"...I see."
They were both still for a long moment. Then Norway moved, touching Denmark's face, fingertips settling on his cheek.
Denmark froze, barely breathing as he hoped and wondered what might come next. Then he felt Norway's breath flutter over his cheek, and his lips pressed warm and soft to his mouth.
It was light and gentle and much too brief. Denmark ached to wrap his arm around Norway, hold him tight, and kiss him passionately. But he did not. It was easy to guess how Norway might react to that, and Denmark did not relish the thought of being tossed out of his own bed. And he had the feeling that whatever this kiss was, Norway was partly doing it to make a point. But what that point might be was anyone's guess.
"G'night, then."
"Good night, Nor." Denmark could feel himself blushing. He wanted to say something, anything – but he clamped down, bit at his lower lip, and willed the urge to pass, difficult though it was.
As Norway settled beside him, Denmark stared upward in the dark and brought his fingers to his lips.
The night might not have gone as he'd expected or hoped. But as Norway curled up next to him, their bodies slightly touching, Denmark decided that he was all right with that.
It wasn't a bad start at all.
Fandom: Hetalia
Characters/Pairing: Denmark/Norway
Rating: 13+
Length: 2k
Summary: Their first night together isn't like other wedding nights, but they make do.
Other: Set in early 1538. This is Denmark's POV of a drabble I wrote last year* + expanded here. Title comes from "Small Song: Moonlight" by Jan Zwicky.
All soundlessness, all still
After all the noise and ceremony of the day, Denmark found his bedchamber almost unsettling in its stillness.
It was bright with lamps and candles and the fireplace giving a warm, cozy glow. The thick, heavy blankets on the bed were drawn back, ready for what would come next. A bottle of wine and two glasses had been placed on a table, just in case there was need for something to calm the nerves. There very well might be need for that, he thought, anticipation twisting in his belly.
Denmark looked at the only other person in the room. Not just a friend now, but a partner in union. How about that.
Norway's expression was as unreadable as it ever was, his lips set in a thin line that could mean anything. He looked about the room as though he had never been in it before, even though he had been there plenty of times, gaze sliding quietly over the tapestries and paintings. With long, slender fingers he twisted his wedding ring this way and that, as if the weight of it and the broadness of the band kept drawing his attention.
Not that Denmark could blame him for that. Watching Norway fidget drew Denmark's thoughts to his own ring, bringing him to run his thumb over it. The one Norway had given him was narrow and unadorned. Not like anything he'd choose for himself, but there was something very Norway-like about it in its subtlety, and Denmark found he liked that very much.
Getting used to wearing it would take time, but he was looking forward to that. And other things.
"So!" Denmark said as he went over to Norway. "How about this?"
"How about what, exactly?" There was a tired set to Norway's eyes. There always was these days. And today in particular hadn't exactly been short and uneventful.
"This," Denmark said, smiling widely, holding up his hand to show the ring on his finger. "Us." He took one of Norway's hands in his own. It was cold, as Norway's hands usually were, and Denmark gently rubbed at it to get some warmth into him.
He glanced at Norway's face. Just as quiet and still as before, with those dark, pretty eyes watching him, giving nothing away. Whether Norway was thinking about what to say or just biding his time until Denmark spoke again, he couldn't be sure. Ordinarily he would peg it as the latter. It wasn't unusual for Norway to let things sit a while, either because he didn't want to answer or because he'd rather watch Denmark squirm under the weight of his silence until Denmark got tired of waiting and picked up the conversation himself.
But with all that had happened, especially today, it wasn't far fetched to think that Norway might be speechless.
Denmark dropped his gaze and kept massaging at Norway's hand, sliding his thumb over his palm. He knew that this wasn't at all how a wedding night would normally go. But there were certain reasons for that, after all. "Reckon they figured it best to just throw us in here an' let us figure things out," he said cheerfully, trying to ignore his own mounting nervousness. "Considering everything."
"Considering everything."
"Right." Denmark grinned. "Damn funny that we're still expected to consummate this, but I figure it's for the principle of the thing. Metaphorical-like, and all that."
He looked at Norway's face again, and stopped, his hands stilling in their futile attempt at rubbing some warmth into Norway's fingers. Norway had gone pale, the set of his mouth tight, the line of his shoulders stiff. As their eyes met, Norway swallowed, then slowly and carefully pulled his hand from Denmark's grasp.
"Damn foolish," Norway said, breaking eye contact to direct his gaze to the tapestries on the walls once again, as if that had been the subject of their discussion instead of something much more intimate and much more interesting. "All of it."
Denmark frowned. This wasn't going the way he'd hoped. Not the way he'd expected, either. Of course, he hadn't thought that Norway would swoon into his arms or anything like that – he wasn't the type – but this was not the kind of conversation that Denmark had expected to have on his wedding night.
But Norway wasn't wrong, either.
"Could put it that way," Denmark admitted. "But y'know how humans can be about formalities."
"Our union was declared months ago. Before the year turned, even. No need for a wedding at all. But they wanted a ceremony, so we had it. That's fair enough. But this..." Norway paused, teeth worrying at his lower lip as he looked for the right word. "This's nought but foolishness."
"Come on, Nor. It ain't so bad," Denmark said. He took a step toward him and put his hands on Norway's shoulders. At his touch, Norway went rigid, looking as if he couldn't decide whether to deck him or shy away.
Denmark stopped. Thought through the conversation again. Bit his tongue, the better to hold it, and considered Norway's position.
He had been looking forward to this night for months. But by the look of him, Norway hadn't. Not in the least. Denmark had expected some awkwardness, some hesitation; Norway was many things, including bright and sharp-tongued, but he was also surprisingly skittish when it came to personal matters.
This was more than that.
Norway's hand had gone to his ring again, touching it, unaccustomed to it. His body was still tense, his gaze directed away. Finally, he swallowed, and drew himself up, standing rod-straight. "If we're to do this, we'd best get it done," he said. His gaze slid over to meet Denmark's again, nervousness gone from his face, as if he'd packed it up neatly and put it away. All business now.
But that didn't mean that he'd had a change of heart. The tightness of his shoulders beneath Denmark's hands told that much.
Foolishness, Denmark thought. That was what Norway had said. And now, he agreed. There was no need for it. And -
As suddenly as that, he had an idea.
"Nor," Denmark said, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Listen. There's no one else here but us, yeah?"
Norway blinked. Frowned. Took his sweet time with answering, sweeping his gaze around the room as if to make sure that the question wasn't a trap. "No," he said, looking at Denmark suspiciously. "No one else."
"So who's to know if we do it or not?"
For a long moment, Norway stared at him. "Leave it aside, you're saying. Let 'em think we went through with it, or whatever they like."
"Right." Denmark dipped his head to speak closer to him, quieting his voice conspiratorially. "We'll muss up the sheets real good before we leave bed in the morning, and nobody'll know the wiser."
Norway let out a long breath. The tension in him eased. He looked relieved, and Denmark wasn't sure quite how to feel about that. But it didn't matter overmuch, he thought. The important part was that he looked more comfortable.
"Well," Norway said. "Guess you do have good ideas now 'n then." A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the barest hint of it, so small that Denmark wouldn't have seen it if they hadn't already been standing so close.
Denmark felt something tighten in his chest. All the disappointment was worth it for that smile. "I do," he said, letting himself grin. "Sometimes." And before he stopped to think, he asked him, "Can I kiss you?"
The smile disappeared as soon as he said it. But Norway didn't pull away or give him the usual sharp remark. He just stood, looking quiet and thoughtful, taking a moment to consider it. The fidgeting with the ring ceased, and his hands dropped to his sides. "Reckon there'd be no harm in that," he said, voice measured and even.
It wasn't the enthusiastic yes that Denmark had been hoping for. But it wasn't a no, either.
Carefully, Denmark cupped Norway's face in his hands. He looked him over, taking in Norway's patient expression. Waiting for him to say something else, to change his mind, anything. At least he didn't look nervous any more, but....
Denmark took a deep breath, then kissed him on the forehead.
For a moment, neither of them said anything. Then Norway looked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "D'you call that a kiss?" he asked. Though his voice and expression were sharp, there was a hint of pink in his cheeks.
Denmark grinned. He couldn't stop himself from doing so. "'S good enough, yeah?" he asked.
"No." Norway frowned, looking at him as if that was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard in all his years. "Look here, now." His hands came up, gripping Denmark by the front of his clothing.
Denmark nearly bit his tongue in surprise. He sucked in a breath. "I'm listening!"
"If you're going to kiss me, then you ought to do it proper." The expression on Norway's face told very plainly that he doubted if Denmark even knew what he meant by that. "That clear?"
Swallowing, Denmark nodded. "Sure." A pause. He hesitated. "Show me? Please."
He held his breath. Norway watched him, taking a moment longer, as if this were some weighty decision. Then, nodding, he said," Right," and tilted his head up, leaning in to kiss him.
It was soft. Not hesitant, but still soft and slow. The hands gripping Denmark's clothing eased and moved to rest instead at his shoulders, settling there.
Denmark took a gamble: he slid his arms around Norway, not so much holding him as loosely settling his arms about him.
Norway didn't pull away. He didn't tense in Denmark's arms, either. When the kiss broke, he looked up at Denmark, expression unreadable, before moving to rest his head against Denmark's shoulder. It seemed almost as if he were only using Denmark as something to lean against.
Not that Denmark minded, of course.
For a while, they stood there, Norway leaning against Denmark, and Denmark holding him, neither of them saying anything. But the silence was not unpleasant, and Denmark found that while he normally didn't enjoy it, enduring it now was no problem. He trailed his fingers down Norway's back, and listened to the sound of him breathing, and decided that this was pretty nice, all things considered.
In time, Norway let out a sigh. "Been a long day," he murmured, his voice closer to Denmark's ear than it had ever been.
"Ought to get to bed, right?"
A pause. "Ought to get to sleep," Norway corrected.
"'Course, 'course," Denmark agreed. "Just sleep." And he found that he didn't mind in the least. Perhaps, deep down, his feelings on the whole thing hadn't been much different from Norway's, as he felt not disappointed but merely relaxed – and a little bit relieved.
He kissed the top of Norway's head, and then they parted, the both of them at ease.
They dressed for bed quickly and easily, with none of the earlier tension. Denmark went about the room snuffing out candles, until he returned to the bed, and pinched out the final light. As he slid into place beside Norway, he found the bed already warm – and Norway's hands and feet were very, very cold.
"Jesus!" Denmark cursed, sucking in a sharp breath. "You're like ice. Here, I'll -" He took hold of Norway's hands without waiting for a response, pressing them close to his body to warm them.
Norway's silence was thick. It practically had substance. But he didn't resist, and after a moment, he said quietly, "Might find yourself doin' more of that in the future."
Denmark snorted. Let out a huff of a laugh. "I don't mind," he said.
"No?"
"Nah. We're married, right?" Denmark said. It's my job to take care of you, he thought, smiling in the dark and knowing Norway wouldn't see it. He knew better than to dare to say that, of all things. So he said nothing more, and instead brought Norway's hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over his knuckles.
"...I see."
They were both still for a long moment. Then Norway moved, touching Denmark's face, fingertips settling on his cheek.
Denmark froze, barely breathing as he hoped and wondered what might come next. Then he felt Norway's breath flutter over his cheek, and his lips pressed warm and soft to his mouth.
It was light and gentle and much too brief. Denmark ached to wrap his arm around Norway, hold him tight, and kiss him passionately. But he did not. It was easy to guess how Norway might react to that, and Denmark did not relish the thought of being tossed out of his own bed. And he had the feeling that whatever this kiss was, Norway was partly doing it to make a point. But what that point might be was anyone's guess.
"G'night, then."
"Good night, Nor." Denmark could feel himself blushing. He wanted to say something, anything – but he clamped down, bit at his lower lip, and willed the urge to pass, difficult though it was.
As Norway settled beside him, Denmark stared upward in the dark and brought his fingers to his lips.
The night might not have gone as he'd expected or hoped. But as Norway curled up next to him, their bodies slightly touching, Denmark decided that he was all right with that.
It wasn't a bad start at all.