I call this one "Rowing"

Never cuss a Norwegian...

Norway gazed at the sleeping teen before him, sighing before bending down.

Iceland was sprawled on the ground, face down on a couch cushion, hair in disarray and clothes slightly crumpled from laying down. The blonde could hear his brother's soft breaths, and the slow falling and rising of his chest, confirming that he was indeed asleep. He was not faking it to get off rowing, that's for sure.

He set his gloved hand firmly on his brother's shoulder before shaking him, "Get up," gaze not wavering nor softening as Iceland groaned.

"Why?"

Norway pinched the bridge of his nose, annoyance flaring at his brother's incompetence, before composing himself back to his stony state.

"We're going rowing." He replied nonchalantly, not giving in to the resentful look that flashed across Iceland's face.

"I'm not going!" The white-head growled, grabbing the cushion and pressing it firmly over his head.

"Yes you are, now get up." 

Norway proceeded into grabbing the pillow, and flinging it to the other side of the room, not allowing his little brother from getting it again. 

"Damn þú, heimskur hálfvit!" Iceland shouted angrily, glaring at Norway in the eye.

"Is that any way to talk to your big brother?"

The temperature of the room decreased a few degrees.

"Apologize. Now."

Denmark, who had gone out of the room to gather equipment, popped his head through the door, carrying an abundance of rowing supplies, but backed away in fear from the terrifying aura emanating from the Norwegian, nearly falling over in the process.

"No! It's your stupid fault anyways, I do not see why I have to apologize for anything!" Iceland retaliated, crossing his arms and turning away from him, however his voice didn't have the confidence it originally had.

"Is that so?" Norway asked, his voice quiet and cold.

Denmark began whisper-shouting from the corridor ,"Iceland, just apologize! You DO NOT want to see Norge when he's angry, believe me. He will kill you!"

On his words, Iceland cast a look back and gasped in shock as he saw little blue sparks (was that electricity?!) crackling around Norway, sometimes zapping threateningly towards the boy. What horrified him the most were the eyes. No longer was there the empty blue irises, no frozen look. Azure flames danced in his narrowed eyes, mouth dipped into a tight frown, eyebrows furrowed in frustration, representing a very vexed and irate Norwegian.

Iceland audibly gulped.

"S-sorry..." he whispered, gazing down at his boots, too afraid to look up into the frightening face of his brother.

The room gained a few degrees, but Iceland refused to look up. 

"Sorry? I think we're missing something..." Norway murmured, keeping his voice loud enough for everyone to hear.

Iceland took a sharp intake of air, before looking up, meeting the young man's gaze, "Sorry, big brother."

Everything went silent, and both Iceland and Denmark held their breaths.

Norway's eyes clouded, as if in thought, before coming back, the flames simmering down. The strange sparks that had originally been circling him also diminished, giving out a last sizzle before disappearing.

A few seconds passed, and Norway gave a small smile, as he calmed down, then making his way to the petrified Dane in the corridor.

"So, we have all the supplies then. Let's go out to the dock and get ready."

With that, he went out of the front door, an audible slam being heard as he left.

"Wh-what the hell was that!?" Iceland gasped, hugging himself in terror, tremors going through his body as his brain processed what had just happened.

"You just witnessed what happens when you cuss Norge, and you survived. Basically, he got mad." Denmark quipped, giving a weak smile.

Iceland gave out an audible exhale of air and collapsed on the couch.

"It's pretty crazy and difficult to cope with at first, but you get used to it," Denmark said, before ruffling the boy's hair, "come on, we better get up. Don't want Norge getting angry again." He gave a hollow laugh, whilst Iceland just glared at him, though begrudgingly got up, out of sheer fear of the wrath of his older brother.

"I didn't know Norway could actually do magic..." The teen mumbled quietly, as he followed the Dane out.

"Norway can do magic, and he's really good too," Denmark explained, absently rubbing his right arm with his left hand, before giving a strange look at Iceland," I thought you knew he did magic. When you were little, Norway always used to magic things for you, to make you happy. I don't know why you wouldn't remember..."

The two went silent, too consumed in their own thoughts to be bothered in keeping the conversation on, as they made their way to the docks outside.

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Well, if you're wondering why it took me so long to update, it's because I'm a lazy writer. I don't do deadlines, and only write when I feel like it. Otherwise, the piece will come out terrible. Comments and votes are appreciated.

~Felix