Just barely managed to finish this for Prumano Week of 2018 because I discovered too late that it was a thing.
Day 6 - Nyotalia
Names:
Ingrid - Nyo!Prussia
Chiara - Nyo!Romano
Madeline - Nyo!Canada
Gabrielle - Nyo!France
Isabel - Nyo!Spain
In terms of realizations, Ingrid tended to have those at the wrong time in the wrong place at all times. So had she realized she had forgotten her graduation speech half an hour before the designated speech and she had to bullshit her way through so hard that her then eleven-year-old brother had vowed to always bring at least three copies of everything with him to avoid embarrassment.
This still held true to this day, to his wedding day, as he tucked one copy of his vows in his suit jacket, gave one to Ingrid, another to his best man, Kiku, and the last one to his other best friend, Feliciano, though what use it was to give that ditz a copy was beyond Ingrid.
Ludwig was also obsessively checking his hair and smoothing down his suit to the point it looked as if it had gone to the dry cleaner with him wearing it.
"Lutz, you have to calm down," Ingrid said and slapped his hands away from going over his lapels again.
"It has to be perfect," he muttered, giving her a stern frown. "For Madeline."
"Maddie would marry you even if you showed up in nothing but an ice hockey jersey." Ingrid waved dismissively. She paused. "Actually, she might prefer that."
Ludwig looked at her doubtfully as she dropped down in one of the chairs left empty by Feliciano and Kiku to give them some pre-martial sibling time. Her suit crinkled and she smoothed down the creases in her trousers absently.
"Ludwig, she loves you. She accepted to marry your stiff ass. I'm fairly sure it's perfect to her no matter what happens."
Sighing, Ludwig turned back to the mirror. "And you're the love expert."
Ingrid scowled at her brother's tone. "You sound like mom," she said. "Always going on and on about why I haven't settled down yet and 'but you're thirty-two, Ingrid. Time doesn't wait on anyone. What about children?'"
Ludwig glanced at her. "That's not what I'm saying."
"It's what your implying."
"I am not implying anything, Ingrid," he sighed, dropping his hands to his side. "I'm sorry if I made it seem I was. I'm nervous."
Ingrid snorted and got to her feet. She reached for his tie and straightened it one last time. "Ludwig, my darling little brother, just make sure you mention you want her as your wife. Oh, and for the love of God smile." She patted his cheek for good measure just as a knock sounded on the door and Kiku poked his head in.
"Ready?" he asked.
Ludwig stood tall and nodded. "Yes."
Ingrid smiled and watched her brother walk out of the room, meeting with the men that would stand by his side as he got married to the love of his life.
Looking back at her appearance in the mirror, she couldn't help the little pang of jealousy. It was stupid and unnecessary because she was perfectly fine alone. And just because she hadn't found the right man yet, didn't mean all hope was lost.
She straightened the lapels of her own suit and nodded. It was time to see her amazing brother and soon-to-be sister-in-law get married.
The wedding itself went over smoothly. Madeline had been positively beaming, attracting all attention in the hall when she entered in her beautiful white dress. Her father deposited her at the altar with two kisses to the cheeks and Alfred had started sobbing a minute into ceremony.
Ingrid had sat next to her mother, who was dabbing a handkerchief against her cheeks. She was also clutching at her husband's arm so hard that Ingrid was sure there would be imprints tomorrow. Her dad sat a little stiffly, but his proud gaze was focused on his son as he absently rubbed circles on his wife's knee in an attempt to soothe her.
As the priest droned on and not even Ingrid could keep her focus, she found herself observing more often than listening.
Kiku stood perfectly straight, just as Ludwig. He looked almost normal in his suit, proper and pristine. His expression mirrored the overall mood, gently smiling as he watched. Feliciano, stood next to him, was a different picture. While he looked handsome and quite the heart breaker, he was crying too, tears glistening in the pale light. The occasional sniffle escaped him, causing Roderich, their cousin, to give him a couple of exasperated scowls from next to him.
Madeline's side of the room seemed to be a little more composed. On the outside stood Michelle, a cousin who had flown all the way in from Seychelles to attend the wedding. She seemed to be struggling on the brink of smiling madly and bawling her eyes out, but so far the smile was winning. Next to her stood Gabrielle, another cousin of Maddie and one of Ingrid's best friends. She looked perfectly poised and she winked when she caught Ingrid's eye. And then there was the maid of honour. Ingrid had only heard that the woman was Feliciano's sister and Madeline's best friend since childhood, but she wasn't at all prepared for her.
The woman had long legs and thick thighs hidden underneath a simple but elegant red dress. Freckles dotted her bare arms, up her neck and decorated her face. Her dark brown hair was pulled up into an elegant hairstyle with the curls artfully arranged, little gemstones catching the light just so. But then, somehow through some cosmic force, her eyes met Ingrid's and suddenly it was hard to breathe. Liquid gold, beautiful and captivating, blinked slowly at her before returning to look at the priest.
I'm gay, was all Ingrid thought, the realization hitting her like a bullet train. Reality caught back up to her soon enough, a strange panic clawing at her insides. It took all her willpower to stay seated and not run outside for some much needed fresh air and rationality.
She really couldn't breathe now, feeling trapped at her own brother's wedding.
Her mother seemed to mistake her shortness of breath for barely contained tears because she lowered her handkerchief and held onto her arm with a sympathetic look. She leaned over and whispered, "Don't worry, sweetheart. One day it'll be you up there with a handsome young man."
Ingrid almost laughed, choking on it. Maybe crying wasn't so bad an idea now. This was awful.
She stared steadfastly at her brother, then got distracted by the way Maddie's hair glinted as she shifted and how had she never noticed this before?
Her inner turmoil continued for the better part of the ceremony until she was snapped to attention when her brother started on his vows, carefully enunciating the words before he slipped the ring on Madeline's finger with a smile.
Madeline smiled so broadly that she struggled through her own vows. The tears didn't help either, but when she placed the ring on Ludwig's finger and the priest pronounced them husband and wife, she all but jumped in his arms to kiss him.
Ludwig burned red, most likely because Ingrid couldn't stop the hoot from escaping her throat, which was echoed by Gabrielle and then Isabel from further in the back. Her mother elbowed her, but she couldn't be bothered because he was still her kid brother, married or not, and he needed to know his sister would always be his sister. Even if she might be disowned soon.
The service ended and they were all ushered toward the reception area. Ducking past guests and the other much, Ingrid was the first to reach around the shoulders of her brick of a brother.
"Congratulations, Luddikins," she cooed, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
He sighed as he tugged her into a hug. "I am twenty-five, Ingrid. Will you ever let that name go?"
"Nope." She popped her lips for emphasize. "You will forever and always be my little Luddikins and there is nothing you can do to stop me."
He snorted as she let go, straightening his tie almost absently as their mother appeared to shower him in love. Ingrid turned to Madeline then, spreading her arms as an invite. Madeline smiled and walked into the hug, allowing Ingrid to press kisses to her cheeks. "Welcome to the family, Maddikins."
Madeline laughed, kissing back with equal warmth. "Glad to be worthy of the diminutive," she said, brushing another tear away from her eyes.
Ingrid winked, then stepped back as their mother swept Madeline in a hug, muttering how glad and happy she was. More guests came up to congratulate the couple, so Ingrid excused herself to the far wall. She just found a comfortable position to wait in for Gabrielle and Isabel when she all but leaped from her skin at a cool, slightly accented voice addressing her.
"Sister of the groom, no?"
Ingrid stared at the maid of honour, even more beautiful in the low lights of the hall. Her eyes were darker here, but still awfully captivating, and Ingrid wished she could have her gay panic in peace with her best friends.
"Yes," she answered slowly. "Ingrid."
The woman raised an eyebrow, reaching a hand up to swipe her hair back, but pausing when she realized it was all pulled up. She dropped it again, a little sheepish.
"Chiara." A pause as she glanced around the room. "No offence, but your brother should do to remember to treat Maddie well or I'll have his balls."
Ingrid snorted. "Don't worry. I think he'll have his own. He worships the grounds she walks on."
Chiara smiled at that, her red lips a temptation all on their own. "Good. As it should be."
Nodding, Ingrid caught the eye of Gabrielle and she excused herself. Chiara followed her gaze with a purse of her lips and something that almost seemed disappointment dimmed her eyes. But it was gone so quickly that Ingrid was sure she had made it up, ducking past family and acquaintances to crush Gabrielle in a hug.
Gabrielle shook her head, gently pushing her away by the shoulders. She then leaned forward to press three kisses to her cheeks. "Darling, congratulations. Family at last."
"The horror." Ingrid grinned. She glanced around and was a little surprised to find Chiara meeting her eye, intense and serious. She swallowed.
"Ingrid?" Gabrielle followed her gaze, touching her arm to gain her attention.
"We need to talk," she blurted.
Gabrielle nodded, always immediately understanding of turmoil and emotions. "Let's find Isabel." Gabrielle took her elbow and steered her through the crowd.
They found Isabel looking for them among distant cousins and she eagerly followed them to the bar. Ingrid was squished between her friends who were ordering God knew what, but hopefully with a high alcohol percentage.
"So," Isabel said, stirring her martini, "what's the matter?"
Ingrid glanced around the bar quickly, but her parents were entertaining the grandparents and no one was around them. Gabrielle and Isabel still leaned closer conspiratorially.
"I just had a realization," Ingrid said softly, running a finger around the rim of her glass.
Gabrielle and Isabel shared a look because they knew Ingrid's track record with realizations.
"Yes?" Gabrielle prodded.
"I think I, uh—" she breathed deeply and the spoke very quickly, "that I might be gay, you know."
Her friends breathed out sighs of understanding.
"Well, that's okay," Isabel said as she nodded sagely, the bun on her head bouncing along. "We still love you."
Ingrid snorted as Gabrielle slung an arm around her and pressed another kiss to her cheek.
"Love and adore," she assured. She paused, then, "Is that why you all but ran from our darling Chiara?"
"Chiara?" Isabel leaned impossibly closer, her fruity perfume a little overwhelming. "What happened with Chiara?"
Ingrid felt as if she was missing connotations attached to Chiara's name. "I'm not sure," she said carefully. "I ran because she is kind of the reason why we're discussing this."
The women at her side hummed in understanding, but there was an excitable glint to both their eyes and it worried Ingrid just a little.
"Well," Gabrielle started, steering away from the topic with a smack of her lips, "I'm glad you're part of the club now."
"Oh? When do I receive my badge?"
"By mail in five to seven workdays." Gabrielle patted her back and they all snickered.
More drinks were thrown back as more and more people filtered inside. At some point her brother started twirling Madeline around for the first dance. After three dances Ingrid thought it only fair to intervene and offered a dance to Madeline. No one would be none the wiser, it fit right in with her personality.
She danced with Gabrielle and Isabel and her brother and her father and Roderich and his wife Erzsébet. She fell into a chair, laughing as Gabrielle twirled off with Isabel.
Sipping her glass of champagne, she glanced around the floor, finding her brother once more with Madeline, holding her close. It was adorable to find her kid brother so in love, his attention on his wife only, a soft small smile playing at his lips.
"Enjoying yourself?"
Ingrid almost poured her drink over her chest, turning in her chair to find Chiara seated at the table, supporting her head on her hand. She seemed amused, though it was conveyed through her eyes, her lips down-turned.
"It's my brother's wedding," she blurted.
"I am aware," Chiara said dryly, shifting and sitting up straight. Her actions reminded Ingrid a little of a cat, languid and smooth. "And yet the sister of the groom appears to be dateless."
"So do you."
Chiara shrugged. She tipped back her champagne glass and stood. Walking up to Ingrid, she held out a hand.
Ingrid stared at it stupidly.
"Entertain me," Chiara said with a wiggle of her fingers. A smile tugged at her lips when Ingrid slipped her hand in hers, not entirely sure what was happening as Chiara pulled her to the dance floor. No one seemed to notice as Chiara pulled her close, slipping a hand on her waist and intertwining their fingers with the other.
Ingrid stumbled, falling into step quite literally as Chiara moved her around. She caught a whiff of something nice, probably her perfume, but there was also the strong smell of alcohol, and then she noticed her nose was almost pressed against the Italian's collarbone. She quickly found her balance, reaching just a little taller than Chiara.
"You Germans really are poor at dancing," Chiara muttered, leaning close again.
"Are not." Ingrid wasn't sure why she was arguing it as Chiara illustrated her point by doing… something with her feet that almost had Ingrid on the floor if Chiara didn't press close to her.
"You were saying?"
Ingrid narrowed her eyes at the challenge and, after taking a firmer grip on Chiara's hand, twirled her around. She fumbled a little to catch her again, but the breath of laughter that escaped Chiara's lips was worth it.
The song slowed and Chiara's hand came to rest on her shoulder, moving along the fabric of her suit with a small smile. Ingrid's hand found its way around the other's waist, resisting the urge to press her closer. While the dance floor was significantly more crowded now that the alcohol had started flowing, Ingrid didn't particularly feel like sharing her new revelation with her mother at her little brother's wedding. Her mother had to be eased into that.
But for now, it was fine to indulge just a little, so she leaned down, moved her lips along Chiara's cheek and whispered, "Entertained?"
Chiara smiled. It was shy but cute, bringing out the blush in her cheeks even more. It was an adorable contrast to the this bold confidence she had displayed earlier. It was intoxicating.
"Very."
Originally posted on the 17th of August on AO3. Part of my catching up spree.