1558
Sweden was annoyed. Well, he had a good reason to be! Things had been going so well; he had fled successfully from Denmark and got his independence. With Finland. Sweden's heart sped up whenever he thought of the little Fin, who had chosen to flee with him, and who Sweden felt more and more attached to every day. Adding to that, he had brought two countries fresh under his wing; little Latvia, and Estonia, Finland's childhood best friend.
But now here was Denmark, inviting himself to Sweden's house with that smug, arrogant grin on his face, and a loud, cheery greeting.
"You've got a good place here, Swe!" That brash voice made Sweden's natural scowl deepen. He didn't quite close the sitting room door behind him, wanting to indicate that this was a temporary meeting. He was not going to get into deep discussions with Denmark, of all people.
"Wh't are you doing h're?" Sweden asked gruffly.
"Came to see how ya doing!" Denmark laughed. He sat down in a comfy chair uninvited, and watched as Sweden slowly took his own seat, a chair noticeably stronger and more ornate than the one the Dane lounged in. "So?" Denmark seemed to be waiting for an answer. "How are you?" He spoke slowly, as if speaking to a child. Sweden felt his temper rising, but answered shortly.
"Fine."
There was a pause before Denmark spoke again with a shrug.
"Never very conversational were ya?" Like you would know, Sweden thought, when did you talk to me much?
"What d'you w'nt?" The Swede asked, wanting this whole conversation to be over as soon as possible. However at that question Denmark sat up a bit.
"Saw right through me there, Sve! I am after something, if we're being honest..."
"Spit 't out." Sweden grunted, expecting little.
"I want Estonia."
"...what?" Sweden must have misheard. Denmark's trademark smile didn't shift.
"Didn'tcha hear me?" He chuckled. "I said I want Estonia."
"No." The reply was instant, and solid.
Denmark just raised his eyebrows.
"Not even up for debate-"
"No." Sweden scowled. What was Denmark asking?! He wanted Estonia- what rubbish!
Denmark leant forward in his chair "I have a claim to him, you can't deny that."
"How?" Sweden narrowed his eyes.
"I ruled over him-"
"Years 'go."
"For over a century."
"Y' can't h've him."
At this point Denmark launched into an obviously prepared speech explaining his ridiculous claim, but Sweden wasn't listening. Something had caught his eye just outside the door, something briefly glinting as the candlelight reflected off it. Sweden froze. The light had reflected off glasses much like his own, and there was only other one person in the house who wore glasses.
Estonia was outside the door. Listening.
"-he liked me too, more than he likes you I bet, and-"
"Past t'nse." Sweden focused on the Dane again, now very aware of every word he was saying. "Liked." He emphasised the 'ed' on the end of the word. Denmark shifted slightly. Aha, now Sweden had hit a point the Dane couldn't deny.
"Yeah well, I haven't seen him in ages, have I?"
Sweden opened his mouth, then hesitated suddenly. His eyes momentarily flicked to the door again. He could just about see a silhouette, nestled in the dark of the corridor, but he was sure Estonia was still there. Sweden grit his teeth and went on.
"Did y'never...visit h'm? He l'ved in Tallinn for a l'ttle bit wh'n the knights h'd him, ya know."
Denmark's eyes seemed to flash with angry fire. "How do you know?!" He spat. His anger only calmed the Swede, who leant back in his seat.
"F'nland told me."
The Dane seemed to be struggling for words for a minute or so.
"You don't know Estonia." He sad after a while. There was something different in his voice, quieter, and there was a slight shift from the figure outside, as if he might come in, but Sweden was suddenly replying before his brain caught up.
"After such a long t'me, neither d'you."
That seemed to hit something; Denmark glared at the other Nordic and delivered what he seemed to think was a crushing retort.
"And why should YOU have Estonia, Sweden?"
Forgetting everything but the insolence of the question, Sweden was up on his feet.
"B'cause I will care for h'm!" His voice had risen and despite Denmark being on his feet too, the Swede wasn't holding back. "B'cause I have a good economy 'n I can and will s'pport him! If things g't tricky I'll help him, n't sell him!"
He had said it, he had hit the point that made Denmark, of all people, practically flinch. There was a silence.
"It...wasn't supposed to happen." Denmark's voice had softened, and if Sweden didn't know him better he would have thought there was a hint of regret in his tone.
"W'll it d'd." Sweden muttered. He had remembered by now that the nation in question was outside, or was he still? There hadn't been a single sign of movement since his outburst. Drawing himself together, Sweden looked back at the Dane.
"Y'need t'leave."
"Can I see him?" The words seemed to escape before Denmark could stop them, but he didn't take it back. Narrowing his eyes, Sweden chose to look pointedly at the clock.
"It's nearly midn'ght." He said. "H'll be 'sleep."
"Then-"
"Y'can't stay ov'rnight eith'r."
Denmark's shoulders slumped. For a second, he looked genuinely crushed. Then he straightened up, his grin was back on his face, and it was as though nothing had happened.
"As you wish, Swe." His laugh sounded forced, and Sweden wasted no time in marching across the room to the door and opening it with a glare at Denmark. He heard the click of another door quickly shut from down the corridor, but didn't turn to look.
The night was dark, and bitterly cold, but that bothered neither of the Nordics in the open doorway, and Sweden was about to shut the door in the Dane's face when he paused.
"D'nmark." He looked the other right in the eye. "...y'care for 'stonia. Or 't least miss h'm, don't y'?"
Denmark's near-snarl sounded nothing but bitter.
"What does it matter? He's yours now, why should I care?"
Sweden slammed the door.
For a minute after he paused outside the fourth door on the corridor and after a moment's hesitation, twisted the doorknob and looked in.
The young teen was tucked up in bed, his thin chest rising and falling rhythmically under the duvet. He really could be asleep. Quietly, Sweden took the few steps towards the bed and looked at him for a second. Then he carefully removed Estonia's glasses, which he had neglected to take off, and placed them on the bedside table.
"N'ght, Estonia."
Sweden's voice barely disturbed the fragile peace of the night.