Sov Gott

Scrambled

Sweden was making scrambled eggs. He stirred the raw eggs around and around in a metal bowl, his harsh, calculating eyes following the fork's movements carefully. When he deemed them ready he dumped the liquid into the pan and smiled to himself. Some things never change, and morning eggs was one of those things for Sweden. There was a window above the stove that looked out over the forest, and as the early sun crept further up in the sky, clearing the tops of the trees and breaking dawn, he was content. He only wished he could say the same about everything else going on, but life was ever evolving, ever transforming. Sure, Denmark's disappearance wasn't exactly the kind of change that Sweden usually had in mind, but it was something that he had no control over. He had done everything in his power to try and find Denmark and rescue him, but in the end Denmark's soul still ended up in its box, like all of them are destined to end up at some point.

The Swede poked at the solidifying eggs with his fork, breaking them up a bit. He hadn't been able to do anything for Denmark, but he was determined that it would not be the same with Norway. Norway had been a close friend for many, many years, and part of Sweden's heart would always be dedicated to the Norwegian, so whatever it took, he would find Norway.

"Again?" Iceland's voice inquired, the simple word drawing a chuckle from Sweden.

"Don't you like eggs, Iceland?" He countered, never bothering to turn around and give Iceland the satisfaction of eye contact. A smirk crossed his face as he imagined the young Nordic's expression, knowing that he was dealing with a freshly-waken dragon. Iceland was moodier than usual, which was understandable, but this was Sweden's house, and Iceland had to recognize Sweden's authority whether he liked it or not. He understood how Iceland felt. He really did. Everything that Iceland knew about the world was being swept from under his feet, and his biggest obstacle at this point was standing. Sweden had undergone periods of time where he had fought for a bare scrap of sturdy ground, but he was still standing, and didn't plan on falling for as long as he still had legs. Denmark may have been snagged in the maelstrom, but Sweden wasn't about to let anyone else slip away.

Finally the eggs were prepared to his satisfaction. He put the eggs into a pot, placing the corresponding lid over the top once it had been filled. Glittering drops of condensation began to form on the glass lid in the matter of time it took for Sweden to bring the pot to the table. "There you go, now eat up."

"Have any coffee?"

"Ran out yesterday."

"You're a monster."

"I'm aware." God, Iceland was a pain in the ass sometimes. Sweden began shuffling through cabinets, retrieving two mugs and filling them with chocolate milk. After placing both of the mugs in the microwave he set the timer for a minute, watching as the tray began to spin. Since there was no coffee in the house and he couldn't risk leaving to go get some, perhaps hot chocolate would soothe the Icelandic beast at his table that might otherwise begin raging. Besides, Sweden had been wanting some recently.

Soon the warm smell of chocolate invaded the room and the two mugs of hot chocolate emerged from the microwave, one delivered to the silenced young man, the other sipped by Sweden. "Did you sleep well?" Sweden asked eventually, breaking the silence like a twig underfoot.

"Nope."

"Unfortunate. I slept surprisingly well," he retaliated, taking another sip of the hot chocolate. Grabbing two plates from the cabinets, he headed over to the table and finally sat down, handing one of the plates to Iceland. "Bad dreams?"

"Sure." Iceland barely looked at the food that had been provided, choosing instead to study the fine details of the plate that had been set in front of him.