Warnings, OCs, present tense(possible mistakes), Delving too much into sibling relations and not enough into pairing relations (OrSoIFeel), Possible unintentional bias, bad historical references, nyotalia *gasp* so if none of this offends you, happy reading?

Until Never

Nations don't get married much, Alice knows.

Countries get married when they form a commonwealth or when their bosses get married. But they never get a wedding. No flowers, no dresses, no blushing brides, or blushing husbands, as the case so often was. Just a room with a sullen judge and papers to initial, here here and here.

This is what Alice thinks of as she stares at her reflection in the mirror opposite her, as her sister fondles her hair, sighing every once in a while with the odd comment of how, act of union and everything, they had never even had the business meeting.

Alice supposes this is true as she pulls on another long, white glove. Her sister was just informed one day, over dinner, of the act and never given a say. It only added to the hostility Éirinn held for her before and held onto for another century and a half.

However, all bitter memories were behind them, and the various other siblings Alice had, for this day at least, as Éirinn slides Alice's signature hair pins into place behind her ears for her. She watches her reflection as her blonde hair is pushed over her shoulders by her sister. It tumbles down her chest in waves. Alice feels that she should thank her lucky stars, or some equal drivel, that her hair was actually tame for once.

"Alice, would you stand up?" Éirinn asks, touching her arm, gently, not like she was used to with her siblings. They never hurt her anymore, but their touches were rare and never gentle. Alice stands, turning as her sister beckons her to. Éirinn looks her up and down and beckons her to turn again, this time so her back was facing her sister. She yanks the bow at the back of her dress and Alice's mind begins to wander once again.

Bosses always got fairytale weddings. All over the news, people all over the world waiting. Some just waiting for the 'I do' so their congratulations could fall on deaf ears. Some were waiting for drama; just wanting something to go wrong, which rarely happened, courtesy of the hundreds of people hired to prevent such goings on.

In fact, the only thing that could go wrong, Alice ponders as her sister wordlessly turns her around again, patting down her sides, was that one member of the couple would not say the vows, or even say the dreaded 'I don't' instead of the time old, real phrase. Alice was sure it had occurred before within the monarchy, but she couldn't say when or who.

Éirinn finishes and looks upon her handy work with a small smile adorning her features. "I think your done," she says, still smiling. Alice takes the moment and keeps it, just as another keepsake of this day that she wants to remember for her whole existence. One good time to rule out all the bad. And Éirinn never smiles for her, not anymore. This is another rarity that she must cherish and somewhere in her mind, she wonders if her brothers will smile for her as well, but doubts it. They're a lot more stubborn than even her headstrong sister.

"Thank you for your help," she replies, nodding her head as her sister continues to smile her wistful smile.

"You know," Éirinn says, her voice echoing off the tiles on the walls, even though it was so very quiet, "I think you should wear this; borrow it. It's pretty old too, if it counts for both." She holds out her hand, and within her palm is a small, simple cross on a silver chain. It's the one that Alice has never seen her without for centuries, and it seems that today is just bringing more and more unusual circumstances.

Alice feels bad for taking it, but takes it from her sister nonetheless, as she cannot find a way to refuse it. It's too much, too soon, and she knows that Éirinn is as uncomfortable as her, her hand twitching involuntarily when Alice's fingers brush off her palm.

"Thank you," Alice mumbled, running her thumb over the chain, "You're too kind."

Éirinn doesn't smile this time, but her features aren't sullen as she turns when the door opens. Alice sees her elder brother standing there, tense against the door frame. Her sister greets him with a nod of her head. Any strains in the twins' relationship seem to be on hold and Alice can't help feeling that she wouldn't be as numb if Éirinn had launched herself at him and attempted to scratch his eyes out.

"Alice," he says, his voice as cool as it would be any other day of the week as he holds out a long blue ribbon, "Take it."

Equally as cool as her twin, Éirinn replies for Alice. "She has something borrowed already."

"Ah," he smiles wryly, "But this is blue. It's new too."

He walks forward a few steps and Alice closes the rest of the distant, hurriedly taking the ribbon out of his hands with a whispered gratitude. Éirinn then takes it from her and wraps it carefully around the short, netty veil at her back. She then takes the chain from Alice's shaking hands and clipped that at the back too.

Alice turns to thank her and when she turns to thank her brother again, she notices that he has been replaced with the eldest, who's easily ignoring the dirty looks her sister is giving him for the cigarette hanging from his two front teeth, although, not a second later, he spits the horrid thing out in favour of the ability to speak.

"Am I meant to gush?" he asks, a sarcastic smirk crossing his face, "Say some crap about how I dreamed this day would come and I've waited all this time for my lovely little sister to grow up and get married?"

"I wouldn't ask you to lie for my sake," Alice answers, her voice even and clipped. "No one could honestly say they thought this would happen, especially not you, or even me."

She doesn't lie. If she were to be told by one of the fae or even God himself a mere hundred years ago that this day would come, she would've drunkenly told them to go shove their crap on someone with a little less common sense and a little more time.

Even fifty years ago, nearing the end of the great war, watching her not-so-little brother get off his plane, the sun radiating the charm in his smile which made her heart ache- It is empty nest syndrome, it has to be-, she never guessed, never let herself guess that only a few decades down the line, that same golden boy would grab her hand, as her boss spoke of political relations, and ask if that meant they were dating.

And that, not even twenty years later, he'd throw all traditions of getting down on one knee aside and simply ask her to marry him on a whim, no ring, no nothing, yet completely and utterly positive of what it was that he wanted. And that it would still be perfect for her to let the odd tear escape as she unintentionally tackled him to the grass in the field they had been having their picnic in and laugh, genuinely laugh, yes, oh God yes!

Her brother doesn't answer, just looks her up and down before huffing and walking forward. Alice flinches as he ran a hand through her hair, easily. It had been brushed by her sister one hundred times over, so it was knotless.

He doesn't shower her with meaningless compliments, and she respects him for that. Any compliment he could give her would contradict an insult he had flung her way in the past. Her brother wasn't a moral man, but he definitely wasn't one for contradicting himself.

"Hmph," he sighs, taking his hand away from her and Alice lets out a breath she didn't know she was holding, "You'll do."

Alice doesn't comment and instead turns her gaze to her sister, who has been silently watching the two with a downcast frown. "Are you alright?" Alice asks, and Éirinn nods silently, watching her elder brother carefully. The Scotsman doesn't say nor think anything of it and instead takes out another cigarette, to his sisters' distaste.

"We're leaving," he says after a few minutes of silence, "The room is the big doors to the right when you walk down the stairs on the left. Wait until we've left and then go wait for your cue."

Alice gives a quick nod and watches as her brother saunters out of the room, the confident air to his stride back in full glory and Alice doesn't like to think that she may have been the only person ever to see him walk without it, pride gone. Éirinn doesn't bid her farewell either, just gives a duck of her head as she follows the man out the door, her step quick and stuttered.

When Alice is alone, she looks in the mirror and wonders what about her could have made this day come and why she, who, with all the good intentions of a sister, mother, nation, didn't do much justice with her time, had been given this. This unconditional love from the sunny boy waiting for her just a stairwell away.

She walks forward and pushes the door in a bit, just enough for her to squish herself through as her dress wasn't of the flouncy, Cinderella kind. She can hear chatter a whole floor away and she slowly steps down the stairs, just to find that the hallway isn't empty, like she had thought it would be.

She sees her siblings, all lined up and scattered at the same time and, as she glances around, she notices that the twins are hushing up their conversation so that she is no longer in hearing range. She watches momentarily as her sister's face turns from angry, to dark, to downright downtrodden while her brother remains as expressionless as the day she walked away. Alice looks away and wishes she'd done it sooner.

Wales is talking to Hong Kong in his usual jumpy, jittery tone, while the other simply nods, with the odd glance in Alice's direction. She can see that Australia and New Zealand are doing the same, although, when Australia sees her, he smiles.

Alice turns, and she looks up at her eldest brother. "What's my cue?"

He stares at her and for a moment looks like her brother. And then he smirks and she thinks it was probably her imagination. "After this lot get theirs," he answers and she steps back, away from his towering presence.

She waits in silence and passes the time with pondering and not looking any of her siblings in the eye.

Rodreich and Elizaveta were in love, be it a long, long time ago, but they never got this. Alice thinks it unfair as they deserved it. Any time she met them, she found them pleasant to work with, even when she helped, using the word loosely, in Rodreich's war of succession.

She keeps her gaze down and wonders, if she was to run now, would Alfred understand. He isn't the brightest crayon in the box, but he isn't the dullest either, like he was so often made out to be. But she wouldn't be surprised if he took it as some fault of his own, and she couldn't have that.

'B-but, wait. Isn't this impossible?"

"Nope! Just not official. But it's the words said and promises made that matter, not the documents, right?"

Alice managed a small smile and drags her head up as the doors open and Australia pulls New Zealand through them, thrusting the white lamb into Wale's care for the time being. Said brother sighs shakily and gives the creature a short pet before placing it on the ground and hooking his arm around Hong Kong's and following the other two out the door.

The eldest send a warning gaze to the other two, who emerge from their corner on the other side of the hall, a forced smile on the sister's face which contrasted with the redness of her eyes. Her brother looks as usual, but his hand isn't twitching or reluctant as he grabs hers and they too walk out the door.

Alice, while waiting for her eldest brother's cue so she could wait for hers, feels a tap on her shoulder and turns to see a rather cheerful Peter, adorning a wide eyed grin and cute little waistcoat. Alice smiles lightly and he smiles, bigger and brighter, up at her.

"When is your cue," she asks, turning to the Scotsman and he grimaced slightly.

"Whenever you're ready, I suppose," he grumbled, grabbing her hand. Alice didn't have time to flinch at the contact before she was dragged through the doorway and into the large room and the rather big crowd.

She is grateful that he brother doesn't drag her anymore, as she takes in the amount of people in the room, room, not church. It seems that everyone, every country in the world, was here, watching her and Alice made a dry note in her head to make sure to not trip.

Her brother pulls her hand and she stumbles, thinking ironically back to her last thought, and she walked forward, slowly. Rodreich launched into something or other that didn't sound like the wedding march, but was sweet all the same and she would've smiled his way if only she could see him. Instead, she prefers to mumble to her brother under her breath. "You're giving me away. How delightful."

The eldest smiles, and Alice rethinks her earlier misconception of her imagination because, once again, he really looks like a brother, and not the monster in Wales' or New Zealand's sheep's clothing she is accustomed to seeing in his eyes. "Ah, don't put it like that," he says, quiet, so not to ruin the tranquillity, "You were never mine to give to begin with. And I think your eyes should be somewhere else."

With that, Alice looks up and realises that Alfred is standing there, at the top of the room, waiting for her and she smiles, catching his eye. He turns and she steps up to him, the rest of the way there being a blur of silence and a Scotsman's stoic gaze.

She turns to Feliciano, who is standing with his normal dopey grin, his little red book open in the palm of his hand. "Do you want to start now?" he asks gleefully, seemingly forgetting the fact that he is terrified of the woman standing before him.

Alfred nods to him and Feliciano smiles wider than Alice thought was possible. The Italian starts and Alice doesn't listen. The talking has always been the part that Alice found most boring and today, though an exception in many ways, was not an exception.

Matthew is standing by Alfred, watching her intently and giving her a nod when he sees her looking. She nods back, and realises that Alfred had ignored her request to have Francis barred from the ceremony after he tried to molest her when she was getting changed, as he is standing beside Matthew, wailing as if he were her mother or something.

Matthew got to be best man, Alice notes. Alfred had originally laughed about asking Francis or Ivan, but after a few glares were sent his way, he decided against them. They had been stumped for quite a while before they heard a cry of 'Who' from the back of the room and the quiet reply of 'Canada' and realised that they had forgotten Alfred's brother was even there.

Alfred nudges her, and she looks back at him, to see that he is wearing the pout he wears when someone should only have eyes for him at that moment, and Alice, for this once, admits that he is right and pays attention once again. Somewhere, the sheep gives a bleat and is shushed by someone Alice thinks is Peter.

There were no vows to say because most of them were a given anyway.

'In boom and in bust, until eternity do us part, it should be'

Alice smiles at the thought and looks up at Alfred, not surprised that he is still watching her, his blue filled with adoration that she still doesn't feel she deserves, that she doesn't deserve to have her own feelings reflected in someone else's eyes, especially not Alfred's. "I do," he says quietly, and she notices that time has been going on while she was still staring, wondering and pondering.

"Do you swear to love Alfred forever and ever?" Feliciano asks, still smiling dopily and cheerfully. Alice smiles at the simplified words, but simple is all she needs, because not much is simple right now or ever.

Without a second thought, without trying to run away from the truth like she did so many times before, Alice answers. "I do."

Nations don't get married much, Alice knows. But as she looks at the unadulterated glee on Alfred's face as he leans down to press a chaste kiss on her lips, she realises it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter at all

The END (not).