Morning Delights // midnattssolen-viking

Finland slowly came to just as it was coming upon the noon hour the following morning. His legs were tangled among the sheets and as he opened his eyes he could make out that he was in the embrace of a man.

A man!?!

He had forgotten he’d slept over until it all came rushing back to him. He’d never been more relieved. He looked over at Sweden’s sleeping face and touched his bandaged cheek, stroking it gently. He looked so peaceful, so happy when he was rested like this. He almost didn’t want to wake him up.

“Berwald,” he whispered with a soft chuckle and kiss to his temple. “Wake up hon.” He hoped the Swede didn’t have to work today. He didn’t want to rush anything this morning.

The Resolution - 1917

The year was a year of change for the Fin. The wounds from a fight years passed had scarred over and left nothing but a painful memory. Like most of his wounds as well, it hadn’t healed properly and wouldn’t he felt. Ever. Not unless something was changed.

Change was in the air all around. His people had begun to cry for justice to be done against their Soviet oppressors. Finland hadn’t wanted to point out to his boss that this was the path he had insisted Tino take.

Ivan and him had gotten into another fight over controlling his people. The riots and civil unrest was becoming a nuisance for the communist. He said the next time any signs of defiance were shown, he would be made to pay the price. This promise he did not doubt. That was what had drove him to do this. He knew a fight with Russia was inevitable. He was not certain if he could handle another war by himself but it had to be done. In this case he wanted to be able to say that if he should perish he had done everything he could to repair the state of his broken heart. The truth was it had not been fixed. Not since the Swede’s words ripped it to shreds. His hand shook as he wrote the letter and ink splotched at certain parts of the parchment like tear drops. How was he supposed to re-approach him  after years of stubbornness?

He didn’t dare put a return address or sign his name with anything but a well written cursive T as a sign off so he hoped he would remember … had Berwald just moved on? He sighed in a lonely manner. Norway. He’d tried to replace him but heard that fell apart too. Was Sweden at least happy? He couldn’t know until he started writing …

I’m sorry I haven’t contacted you before. 

Every time I tried no words came, only hurt from what I could remember.

I was unreasonable in some of the things I said but you pushed me and I had to push back to feel as if I was still alive after that … what you put me through …

Listen. I don’t care how you feel just listen. 

I can’t forget you. I can’t bring myself to hate you and contrary to your beliefs I didn’t ever hate you before. I was only angry. Now I am lonely, tired and struggling. 

Even if you still feel as you did before, answer me.

Put me out of my misery. I can’t go on without you telling me how you really feel and if you really didn’t feel the same as me.

I still care about you. I don’t know how to let you go. If you don’t feel the same, teach me how to not care. To not feel anything because all I feel right now is torment when I think about you.


A night with you // midnattssolen-viking

Tino had walked home hand in hand with Berwald. It had been a short trip. A cool breeze tickled his face as he walked up to his door. Ruotsi’s warm hand covered his, holding it and he was reluctant to let it go but he had to in order to unlock his door and let them both in. “Home sweet home,” he sighed, removing his coat and shoes. He held out his hands to take Sweden’s and put them in his closet. 

“Shall we?” he asked and walked ahead towards the kitchen.

Fika Date

Tino ran towards Berwald’s figure waiting for him, his long scarf flying out back behind him as he tackled him laughing with merriment. It was so good to see him! “Moi!” he said hugging him tightly as he looked up at him. “I didn’t keep you waiting long, did I? I had to make sure Peter ate his greens and didn’t feed Hana any table scraps.”

1809 - the dreaded separation

Tino’s hands shook as he packed away folded clothes in an open suitcase. He kept dropping things and having to re-fold them. After picking up his fourth article of clothing that ended up on the ground he lost it through the shirt across the Swede’s bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed holding his face in his hands. How had this happened? How could he let this happen! It just wasn’t something Finland was ready to face and tomorrow he’d have to leave this place of his own accord. 

As Berwald entered the room he looked away from him, hugging himself. “Don’t,” he says when Sweden reaches out for him. He didn’t want to be held. He was angry and didn’t want to lose that anger to guilt.

[He gets home drunk and crawls into his bed taking off his shirt and pants, everything but his boxers]

Berwald … [snuggles his comfy covers, pillows and sheets giggling] you’re so mean leaving me all alone tonight [wait suddenly the lump on the bed moves and he realizes this isn’t his bed and isn’t his house and he’s not dreaming this up this is Sweden’s house. He’d forgot for a second that he didn’t live with him now because he was his own nation]