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Faux Paw	By : Florville Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 3287 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: The Monkey's Paw is property of WW Jacobs, and I only reference it in passing. Hetalia does not belong to me, and I do not make any money off the writing of this fanfiction.

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This chapter goes out to everybody who was so enthused about Canada meeting Norway, you guys are what made me go the extra mile to make this chapter more than just filler. Much love to you.

9

He’d been to Norway’s house a couple of times, but it took a little while to adjust to being able to get there literally ‘as the crow flies’ and his landing left a little to be desired. Getting up and brushing himself off, Matthew blinked in confusion when an odd-looking little man ran into the house shrieking words that sounded like ‘dreki’ and ‘Fafnir’.

After a couple of minutes had passed, in which Matthew debated on whether or not it would be a good idea to knock on the front door in dragon form, he was startled out of his debating by the door flinging open and Norway appearing with a brandished sword.

“Er, wait, wait just a moment, it’s Canada!” he explained hurriedly, lifting his clawed hands and trying to smile without revealing too many of his sharp teeth. “You see, I was staying with England, and I was cleaning and found a freaky shrivelled monkey paw, I wished that he’d notice me more because I’m so completely invisible to the entire world, one thing led to another, some bad magic happened, and now I’m like this!” He swallowed hard, wondering if he should have learned a few more Norwegian words in his time as a country.

That eternally reserved expression remained in place as Norway straightened, snorting and lowering the blade. “That story is so dumb I’m tempted to ask if you’re America trying to make Canada look like an ass for one of your screw-ups.”

Canada blinked, then smirked, relaxing and chuckling as he rested back on all fours again. “It…does sorta sound like a story he’d come up with…but believe it or not, I do occasionally do stupid things as well.”

Norway studied him for a long time, waiting until the silence finally grew uncomfortable before speaking. “So why isn’t England handling it?”

The dragon winced, averting his gaze awkwardly. “He…well…you see, he tried, but I honestly think if he had access to the answer, he would’ve found it by now,” Matthew mumbled, glancing at Norway uncertainly.

Again, over a full minute of silence. Then: “You’re a worse liar than your brother.”

Canada pouted, his wings sagging as he huffed, a small flicker of flame glinting in his nostrils as he did so. “Fine, if you really must know, I pissed him off. He’s exhausted, and I really do love him and I don’t want to burden him any more. I’m trying to see if I can find the answer on my own.”

A faint hint of a smirk twitched at the corner of Norway’s lips for the span of a half second before his usual expression was back in place. “I see.”

“Please,” Matthew sighed, looking at the other nation seriously, “do you know if there’s any way to turn me back to normal?”

Norway pursed his lips, resting the point of his sword in the ground between his feet and letting his hands rest on the butt of the hilt. “That old monkey’s paw story? I always thought that was Eastern magic. I don’t think Scandinavian sources would yield you any results. Sorry.”

Matthew cocked his head, considering Norway carefully. This was obviously a situation where a certain amount of finesse might get him further than simple supplication. He didn’t know Norway very well, but he knew a little of Norway’s history, and that there was a fair amount of pride, conquest and warfare involved in it. Matthew also knew that the Norwegians had really gotten the short end of the proverbial stick in both World Wars, and that part of the old nation’s stand-offishness might be due to his history with England, despite the fact that things seemed to be all right between them now.

“Norway,” Canada began, lowering his head slightly as his wings folded calmly against his sides, “I’ve come to ask your help because I know that you are a noble nation, with a very deep fount of wisdom at your disposal. If our circumstances were reversed, I’m sure you know that I would do everything in my power to assist you.” He straightened, regarding Norway seriously now. “I am not England’s errand boy, and I am not asking for your help on his behalf. This is a personal favour for me, and I am asking you to set personal opinion aside, disregard any misgivings, and just be forward with me.”

For a moment, the Nordic nation actually looked surprised. The expression shifted to dubiousness, then surprise again when it became obvious that Canada was being completely open and straightforward with him. You didn’t get that from a lot of nations these days…or ever, really.

Letting his normal expressionless mask settle into place again, Norway rolled his shoulders, cool eyes fixed intently on the red dragon before him. When Matthew didn’t fidget or cringe this time, holding his ground and awaiting his answer, Norway lifted his sword and gave Canada a short nod as he sheathed it. “Let me see if I can find anything helpful in the attic.”

To be honest, it was far more than Canada had expected, and once Norway disappeared into the house again, he exhaled in a rush, squeaking in dismay when a thin column of flame burst forth and singed a spot on the ground in front of him. He quickly started patting out the smouldering grass with his hands, relieved that at least he hadn’t caught anything more important on fire.

It was about ten or fifteen minutes before Norway returned, this time without his sword, and holding something that looked like a small medallion on a leather string. “Take this.”

Canada tilted his head curiously and extended a clawed hand, surprised when Norway moved forward and tied it securely around his wrist, since his neck was too thick. “What is it?”

“A talisman of the god Freyr,” Norway replied flatly, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“Can I wish myself back to normal on it?” Matthew inquired dubiously.

“No. My guess would be that you must give it to Arthur when you see him next, and pray that he’s not so dense as to miss the hidden meaning.”

Canada snorted in spite of himself. “So I’m going to be a dragon forever.”

Norway pulled back, opening his mouth to say something about ingratitude, but Canada interrupted quickly.

“It was a joke,” Matthew explained, smiling a little. “You’re saying to pray England’s not too dense to miss the meaning, and…well, to be honest, England can be pretty dense sometimes.”

The pale-haired nation blinked, then grunted and nodded his head.

Matthew pouted again. “Is it really that hard to get a laugh out of you? My brother would probably have a lame joke about Thor to throw out there,” he muttered. “Best I can do is Sleipnir walks into a bar and the bartender says ‘nice legs, why the long face?’ or something.”

The utter absurdity of the joke seemed to completely shock Norway for a few seconds…until he actually thought about it, snorted, and then chuckled in spite of himself. “Has anyone ever told you that you try too hard, Canada?”

Feeling victorious at having made Norway laugh, Canada couldn’t help but smile and shrug at the question. “I’m in love with England. ‘Trying hard’ is a lifestyle choice for me, apparently.”

A faint smile lingered on Norway’s face for a few more seconds before it faded and he grew serious. “You said that you sought my wisdom; as such, I will offer you some counsel from the ‘fount’ you referred to.”

Canada immediately went quiet, nodding and listening respectfully.

“Care shall gnaw thy heart if thou canst not tell all thy mind to another. You’d do well to mind that, and if I were you, I’d mention it to Arthur as well.”

“A proverb,” Canada observed softly, leaning in closer to listen with rapt attentiveness. “Thank you…I’ll mention it to him when I give him the talisman. ‘Care shall gnaw thy heart if thou canst not tell all thy mind to another.’ Do you have any more advice? I’m not very familiar with Norse proverbs.”

Flattered, Norway shrugged a shoulder. “Few people are, I’m sure.” He was quiet for a moment, until the way Canada seemed intent to listen with that eager expression cracked his normally stoic composure and he surrendered one more. “Man unfolds himself by speech with man, and grows overly secretive through silence.”

Canada was quiet, considering this, and eventually he nodded slowly. “That’s very valuable advice, Norway. I will take it to heart. Thank you.”

The Nordic nation nodded, one of his pale brows twitching faintly. “Are you going back to England, then?”

Matthew shook his head. “I’m certain he’s still looking through his sources for the answer, and I should do no less,” he replied honestly. “Although…I’m not quite certain who to approach next. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure if you would be able to see me.”

Norway’s curl seemed to twitch, as if it were expressing his irritation. “You appeared as Fafnir and scared the living daylights out of my Nisse. That makes you pretty damn hard for me to miss.”

“Oh…” Canada ducked his head, fidgeting a little. “I…it wasn’t intentional. I’m terribly sorry about that, I didn’t mean to frighten anyone.”

Norway stared at Canada for just long enough to make him uncomfortable before speaking. “Finland has long since forgotten his magic. Try Egypt or China. They’re very old, they have a lot of their own magic, and they probably still know some of it. Japan is losing touch with his, but he might also be a good choice.”

Matthew perked up, his posture straightening. “Yes. Thank you, that’s very helpful. And thank you for the talisman, and the advice.”

Norway nodded, then turned on his heel and disappeared into the house. Matthew saw the small troll-like being glaring out at him from the nearest window, and raised a clawed hand to wave, offering a polite smile which faded to an awkward wince when the troll just kept glaring at him, green fire seeming to radiate around it. Now would probably be a good time to take his leave…

Egypt…that meant a flight all the way across Europe, unless he could find another way to travel…in all honesty, it would be easier to go and pester Arthur again and hope that he wasn’t cross with him any more. However, Canada was nothing if not stubborn and determined.

Making his way back to the shipyard he’d gotten off at, Matthew searched the container ships that had been fully loaded, unable to determine which were heading where. In the end, he decided to leave it to Fate and perched on top of the cargo containers of the farthest one, settling in for a much-needed snooze.

*

Note: The proverbs Norway was quoting are from “The Ballad of the High One”, which you can find here: http://www.nastrond.net/havamal.html
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Faux Paw