21:42:00
Nordics x Yoh: Santa Lucia
It was December 13th and that meant it was Saint Lucia's Day. I had gotten up early that morning to prepare a little surprise for my Nordic family. My gown was ironed and prepared, my crown with candles was also ready, and I had just filled the breakfast tray. Now I just needed to get changed and have Mr. Puffin help me with the candles in my crown.
The night before I had managed to convince my family to sleep in the family room with beds for each and every one of the, but which they only used in case of emergency. I had used the argument that the room would fall into disrepair if they didn't use it more often and that had convinced most of them to sleep in there, seeing as they didn't want to be forced to repair it. What they didn't know was that I had planned this little surprise for weeks now, and now all I needed was for them not to wake up until it was time.
I got dressed in the gown, tied the red sash around my waist and set the prepared candle crown on my head with a piece of cloth underneath to protect my hair. I then picked up the breakfast tray and asked Mr. Puffin to light my candles.
“Ya really shouldn't ask a bird to do this, missy,” he pointed out.
“I know, but I can't ask the other or the surprise would be ruined. And I can't very well ask Hana, now can I?”
Mr. Puffin let out a huff and agreed as he lit the first candle and soon the other candles followed. I hoped I would be able to balance the tray and the candles on my head without burning my head off.
I took a deep breath. “Wish me luck, Mr. Puffin,” I said before slowly and quietly making my way out of the kitchen.
“Don't drop the tray, missy!” he called after me which somehow made me relax.
I didn't really know why, but maybe it was how his gruff and unrefined attitude reminded me of a certain someone else that it calmed me down. Either way, I had reached the stairs and the true trial was about to begin.
I carefully maneuvered my way up the stair and once I had reached the upper floor I took a moment to prepare myself. When I was ready I started walking down the hallway towards the family room, and softly I began to sing. My voice gently echoing against the walls as I drew closer, and the candles lit up the dark hallway with their glow.
“Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva. Kring jord som sol’n förgät, skuggorna ruva. Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.”
My melodic voice was carried through the hall and flowed into the family room. I was only a couple of doors away now I could hear how my family arose in their respective beds. I figured that the light of the candles would soon shine through the slightly opened door.
“Her ved vor ønskefest, sangen skal klinge, gaver til hver en gæst, glad vil du bringe. Skænk os af lykkens væld, lige til livets kvæld, Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia,” I sang in, what I hoped to be correct, Danish. I had taken the time to practice all Scandinavian versions of the song and I hoped I could do them justice just this one for my family.
I entered the room, lighting up in a gently light with my candles. The light was reflected on the silver tray on which I carried plates of saffron buns, cups of hot chocolate and some ginger breads, and it reflected in my glasses as well.
All of the Nordics had woken up and were sitting up in their beds. Denmark was grinning like the goof he was as usual. Norway's eyes settled on the buns on my tray and I could have sworn I saw a tiny smile tug at his lips. Sweden adjusted his glasses so that he could look at me properly and judging by his body language he was pleased. Finland made no attempt to hide his glee and was smiling almost as widely as Denmark, and lastly Iceland seemed a little embarrassed, but happy at the same time.
I stepped forward and stood in the middle of the room as I began on the last verse that I had practiced. “Natten er mørk og stum. Med ett det suser, i alle tyste rom, som vinger bruser. Se, på vår terskel står, hvitkledd med lys i hår, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia,” I sang, in a hopefully correct Norwegian, with a clear voice.
When I had finished my last verse the Nordics began to applaud for me, all with different enthusiasm, but Finland and Denmark applauded the loudest and the most enthusiastically of the bunch, which I had expected and my smile widened slightly.
“Good morning and Happy Saint Lucia's day,” I chirped happily and began to hand out the cups and plates to the Nordics, starting with Norway. I gave him his plate with saffron buns and ginger breads and then handed him his cup of hot chocolate.
“... Takk søster,” he thanked me, then picked up a bun and bit into it. [Thank you, sister]
I moved on to Sweden and handed him his plate and cup as well which he accepted and set on his bedside table so that he wouldn't drop anything. He offered a quick smile to me.
“... Tack. Du är jättevacker,” he complimented me which I, in turn, thanked him for before moving on to Finland. [Thank you. You are very beautiful,]
Finland helped me by taking his plate of goodies from the tray and let me set his cup down on his bedside table. His smile was one of pure joy and his entire face was lit up as if it was he with the crown of candles instead of me.
“Kiitos, Yoh! It's so nice of you to organize this for us!” Finland chimed, his glee very obvious in his voice. [Thank you]
“No problem, Finny. The hard part was keeping this a secret from you,” I chuckled.
“We're very happy that you did though. It was very sweet of you!”
I nodded and continued to Denmark who was still grinning like a goof with a grin that threatened to break his face in two. I only gave a light, almost unnoticeable, shake of my head so that I wouldn't drop any hot candle-grease anywhere.
I gave him his plate and his cup. “Here you go, Denmark,” I said. “Be careful so that grin of yours don't make a stain on our walls. It'd be a pain to clean up.”
“Tak!” he thanked me for the goodies. “Aww, you worry about me!” [Thank you]
I let out a chuckle before moving on to Iceland who was last, and whom scoffed at Denmark's last statement.
“What she meant was that your grin threatens to split your head in two and she doesn't want to clean up the mess that your brain splatter would cause,” he pointed out.
“What? What do you mean, Icey?” Denmark asked as I set Iceland's plate and cup down.
“Takk fyrir, Yoh,” Iceland said as I set down his things on his bedside table. [Thank you very much]
I smiled back to him. “No problem, Icey. Enjoy!” I told him merrily I then set the tray down on one of the dressers and took one of the remaining buns for myself. Then I seated myself on Sweden's bed and munched on it happily.
All five of the Nordics looked at each other and nodded. “Thank very much, Yoh!” Their voiced boomed and filled the room.
Their unison voices almost made my eardrums burst, but I couldn't help but grin as widely as Denmark for the way that they thanked me. It made all the preparations and practicing worth it.
The night before I had managed to convince my family to sleep in the family room with beds for each and every one of the, but which they only used in case of emergency. I had used the argument that the room would fall into disrepair if they didn't use it more often and that had convinced most of them to sleep in there, seeing as they didn't want to be forced to repair it. What they didn't know was that I had planned this little surprise for weeks now, and now all I needed was for them not to wake up until it was time.
I got dressed in the gown, tied the red sash around my waist and set the prepared candle crown on my head with a piece of cloth underneath to protect my hair. I then picked up the breakfast tray and asked Mr. Puffin to light my candles.
“Ya really shouldn't ask a bird to do this, missy,” he pointed out.
“I know, but I can't ask the other or the surprise would be ruined. And I can't very well ask Hana, now can I?”
Mr. Puffin let out a huff and agreed as he lit the first candle and soon the other candles followed. I hoped I would be able to balance the tray and the candles on my head without burning my head off.
I took a deep breath. “Wish me luck, Mr. Puffin,” I said before slowly and quietly making my way out of the kitchen.
“Don't drop the tray, missy!” he called after me which somehow made me relax.
I didn't really know why, but maybe it was how his gruff and unrefined attitude reminded me of a certain someone else that it calmed me down. Either way, I had reached the stairs and the true trial was about to begin.
I carefully maneuvered my way up the stair and once I had reached the upper floor I took a moment to prepare myself. When I was ready I started walking down the hallway towards the family room, and softly I began to sing. My voice gently echoing against the walls as I drew closer, and the candles lit up the dark hallway with their glow.
“Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva. Kring jord som sol’n förgät, skuggorna ruva. Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.”
My melodic voice was carried through the hall and flowed into the family room. I was only a couple of doors away now I could hear how my family arose in their respective beds. I figured that the light of the candles would soon shine through the slightly opened door.
“Her ved vor ønskefest, sangen skal klinge, gaver til hver en gæst, glad vil du bringe. Skænk os af lykkens væld, lige til livets kvæld, Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia,” I sang in, what I hoped to be correct, Danish. I had taken the time to practice all Scandinavian versions of the song and I hoped I could do them justice just this one for my family.
I entered the room, lighting up in a gently light with my candles. The light was reflected on the silver tray on which I carried plates of saffron buns, cups of hot chocolate and some ginger breads, and it reflected in my glasses as well.
All of the Nordics had woken up and were sitting up in their beds. Denmark was grinning like the goof he was as usual. Norway's eyes settled on the buns on my tray and I could have sworn I saw a tiny smile tug at his lips. Sweden adjusted his glasses so that he could look at me properly and judging by his body language he was pleased. Finland made no attempt to hide his glee and was smiling almost as widely as Denmark, and lastly Iceland seemed a little embarrassed, but happy at the same time.
I stepped forward and stood in the middle of the room as I began on the last verse that I had practiced. “Natten er mørk og stum. Med ett det suser, i alle tyste rom, som vinger bruser. Se, på vår terskel står, hvitkledd med lys i hår, Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia,” I sang, in a hopefully correct Norwegian, with a clear voice.
When I had finished my last verse the Nordics began to applaud for me, all with different enthusiasm, but Finland and Denmark applauded the loudest and the most enthusiastically of the bunch, which I had expected and my smile widened slightly.
“Good morning and Happy Saint Lucia's day,” I chirped happily and began to hand out the cups and plates to the Nordics, starting with Norway. I gave him his plate with saffron buns and ginger breads and then handed him his cup of hot chocolate.
“... Takk søster,” he thanked me, then picked up a bun and bit into it. [Thank you, sister]
I moved on to Sweden and handed him his plate and cup as well which he accepted and set on his bedside table so that he wouldn't drop anything. He offered a quick smile to me.
“... Tack. Du är jättevacker,” he complimented me which I, in turn, thanked him for before moving on to Finland. [Thank you. You are very beautiful,]
Finland helped me by taking his plate of goodies from the tray and let me set his cup down on his bedside table. His smile was one of pure joy and his entire face was lit up as if it was he with the crown of candles instead of me.
“Kiitos, Yoh! It's so nice of you to organize this for us!” Finland chimed, his glee very obvious in his voice. [Thank you]
“No problem, Finny. The hard part was keeping this a secret from you,” I chuckled.
“We're very happy that you did though. It was very sweet of you!”
I nodded and continued to Denmark who was still grinning like a goof with a grin that threatened to break his face in two. I only gave a light, almost unnoticeable, shake of my head so that I wouldn't drop any hot candle-grease anywhere.
I gave him his plate and his cup. “Here you go, Denmark,” I said. “Be careful so that grin of yours don't make a stain on our walls. It'd be a pain to clean up.”
“Tak!” he thanked me for the goodies. “Aww, you worry about me!” [Thank you]
I let out a chuckle before moving on to Iceland who was last, and whom scoffed at Denmark's last statement.
“What she meant was that your grin threatens to split your head in two and she doesn't want to clean up the mess that your brain splatter would cause,” he pointed out.
“What? What do you mean, Icey?” Denmark asked as I set Iceland's plate and cup down.
“Takk fyrir, Yoh,” Iceland said as I set down his things on his bedside table. [Thank you very much]
I smiled back to him. “No problem, Icey. Enjoy!” I told him merrily I then set the tray down on one of the dressers and took one of the remaining buns for myself. Then I seated myself on Sweden's bed and munched on it happily.
All five of the Nordics looked at each other and nodded. “Thank very much, Yoh!” Their voiced boomed and filled the room.
Their unison voices almost made my eardrums burst, but I couldn't help but grin as widely as Denmark for the way that they thanked me. It made all the preparations and practicing worth it.
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So this is my contribution to a Two Weeks' Theme - The Holidays. I decided to write about Saint Lucia's Day/Saint Lucy's Day - uncreatively enough. It's an idea that's been floating about for a few days, but I decided to sit down today (23-12-15) and write it out. This has not been proof read so, I'm sorry for any mistakes and any other kind of ish (shit).
I tried to, word by word (sorta), translate the Lucia song, at least the Swedish Version. And the people who wrote the Norwegian version translated it into Norwegian from the Swedish version. I'm not sure how correct these translations are, but I know for a fact that they won't flow well with the music, so don't even try it. They're called literal translations for a reason.
Translation:
Swedish
Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva. (The night walks on heavy feet, around farm and cottage)
Kring jord som sol’n förgät, skuggorna ruva. (Around the earth that the sun forgot, the shadows are lingering)
Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, (Then in our darkened house, she walks with lit candles)
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.
Norwegian
Natten er mørk og stum. Med ett det suser (The night was large and mute, now, hear, it swings)
i alle tyste rom som vinger bruser. (in every silent room, swishes of wings)
Se, på vår terskel står hvitkledd med lys i hår (Look, there at our doorstep she stands, all dressed in white and with candles in her hair)
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.
Danish
Her ved vor ønskefest, (Here at our wish celebration)
sangen skal klinge, (the song will sound)
gaver til hver en gæst, (gifts for every guest)
glad vil du bringe. (happiness you will bring.)
Skænk os af lykkens væld, (Give us the wealth of happiness)
lige til livets kvæld, (equal to the eve of life)
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia
Disclaimer:
I don't own Hetalia,
I don't own the songs or lyrics,
I only own myself and this story.
I tried to, word by word (sorta), translate the Lucia song, at least the Swedish Version. And the people who wrote the Norwegian version translated it into Norwegian from the Swedish version. I'm not sure how correct these translations are, but I know for a fact that they won't flow well with the music, so don't even try it. They're called literal translations for a reason.
Translation:
Swedish
Natten går tunga fjät, runt gård och stuva. (The night walks on heavy feet, around farm and cottage)
Kring jord som sol’n förgät, skuggorna ruva. (Around the earth that the sun forgot, the shadows are lingering)
Då i vårt mörka hus, stiger med tända ljus, (Then in our darkened house, she walks with lit candles)
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.
Norwegian
Natten er mørk og stum. Med ett det suser (The night was large and mute, now, hear, it swings)
i alle tyste rom som vinger bruser. (in every silent room, swishes of wings)
Se, på vår terskel står hvitkledd med lys i hår (Look, there at our doorstep she stands, all dressed in white and with candles in her hair)
Sankta Lucia, Sankta Lucia.
Danish
Her ved vor ønskefest, (Here at our wish celebration)
sangen skal klinge, (the song will sound)
gaver til hver en gæst, (gifts for every guest)
glad vil du bringe. (happiness you will bring.)
Skænk os af lykkens væld, (Give us the wealth of happiness)
lige til livets kvæld, (equal to the eve of life)
Santa Lucia, Santa Lucia
Disclaimer:
I don't own Hetalia,
I don't own the songs or lyrics,
I only own myself and this story.