history in four parts
"Would you like to begin?" The boy – now a man – asks, setting a notebook on top of his his crossed legs. In his dark blue suit, he looks a little mature for his age, and the man known as Finland cannot help it if he smiles a little too fondly, as if he were remembering something, once upon a time.
"You don't have to be so polite," says Tino, "it isn't as if we don't know each other very well."
"It's merely a formality," the other smiles, his eyes closing on its own volition, as if the other had smoothed the top of his hair down with gentle fingers, "I'm happy to see both of you after so long."
Tino smiles in response, and offers his companion more tea.
Archaeologists believe that the early Finnish people began to settle there during the Stone Age, at the tail end of the last Ice Age. Whatever remains of their belongings have similarities to artifacts from Estonia, Russia, and Norway. The people lived on hunting, and it was only in the 3000 BCE that agriculture was introduced.
The beginnings of Finland were marked with much drinking and other pagan rituals devoted to spirits and ghosts. Like other cultures, their existed the concept of death, Tuoni's realm, a cold, dark river, where the dead lay, dreaming, forever.
"I can't say I recall most of the songs we had sung in the beginning," says Tino, his lips pursed in thought, "I was too young and too easily excited at the sight of singing and drinking and dancing."
Their other companion, who, up until now, has not said a single word, does his best to calmly send waves of panic to Tino's direction. It works.
"—which, of course, you shouldn't imitate," Tino says hastily to the interviewer, in an attempt to rectify his mistake, "I wouldn't encourage that kind of lifestyle in this age. Right, Su-san?" Besides, he doesn't say out loud, you'd probably get arrested, and then your brother would threaten everything in existence.
'Su-san' lets out a small sigh of relief, and nods.
Ties with the Baltic nations existed during the Bronze Age and the Iron Age, and, at the end of the Iron Age, the rising Swedish kingdom began their 'crusades', taking anything of commercial value to their empire. Hiding under the pretext of converting the heathens to Christianity, the Swedes eventually succeeded in turning Finland into its province. Language became a means of identifying a person's class. Swedish was reserved for the nobility, the government, and the educated, while Finnish was used by the peasantry and clergy.
During this time, Finland had villages and some castles and manors, yet it was still a land of forests and swamps, swallowed by snow and perilous darkness, befitting of the Middle Ages.
"I wasn't very happy with it, of course," Tino laughs a little, "the conquering, I mean, but it was easier to be with Su-san than to stand up against Russia by myself."
Berwald shifts a little in his seat, a little uncomfortable at the confession, but he does not say anything in his defense. Perhaps he does not regret it even now, the interviewer muses. Tino's dissatisfaction at the arrangement is a small price to pay for his well-being.
"Off the record, did you ever feel one with Sweden, then?" The younger man asks, an earnest expression of seriousness on his face. There is an ensuing silence that follows, and if Berwald is interested in the answer to the question, he does not show it. Instead, he strokes the dog – now old, like all of them – on his lap, as if he felt that anything short of being distracted enough to listen would be an intrusion of privacy to the others.
Tino sets his tea cup down on the coffee table, glances at Berwald for a brief moment, and says, decisively, "Sometimes, I think I did. But if I truly were one with Sweden, then I wouldn't deserve to exist in the first place, I suppose. There is, after all, more to being a nation than to have your own territory, or your own language. We were all born to represent the state – no, to become the state. That is why empires will fall and we will never be one with Russia."
Then, softly, "That is why you came into our lives."
Finland suffered from two great famines, one in the 17th century and the other in the 19th century. In between these hard times, conflict between Sweden and Russia rose, until the latter finally succeeded in occupying Finland. The increased recognition of the Finnish language led to the rise of the nationalist movement, and more movements for independence came due to Russia's attempts to hamper the autonomy of Finland.
"What did it feel like during the famines?"
"Like Russia was repeatedly stabbing my internal organs," Tino answers in a rare show of ill humor. "I had enough on my plate, what with those two fighting on my land, and the famine didn't help matters. I was half-crazed and starving, but I couldn't do anything about it. Su-san tried to help, but he had his own problems too.
"The first time it happened, I wished, during those years, that someone would have mercy and kill me. The second time, I was too tired to move or even think. The hardest part about being a nation isn't about being on duty every day of your life. It's having to feel the hardships of the entire country in full-force."
Tino takes a moment to collect his thoughts. Berwald reaches his hand out to touch his cheek, and, under the light of the room's chandelier, something glints on his fingertips, warm and wet. Tino leans in to the touch, and smiles.
"But happiness is something we feel too," he continues, "and we never forget it."
In 1917, Finland finally declared its independence.
And the rest, as they say, is history.
"No one deserves it more than you do," his interviewer says, his face softening into a tender expression. Beside Tino, Berwald nods, and Tino cannot help but feel nothing except love for his family. One day someone will ask him if it's enough, and he knows he will say that it is, because they're the most important people to him, after all.
"Thank you, Peter," Tino says, and means it.
OMAKE:
The younger man puts his notebook down on the table. He seems to be pondering a Very Grave Question of Importance. Tino refills his cup of tea and bites primly into a biscuit, waiting.
Finally, the interviewer speaks. "I don't get it," he says, reverting to a casual, child-like tone, "why did you still live with Papa after that?"
To his credit, Tino doesn't spit out his tea. He turns to Berwald for help, which, in retrospect, is a bad idea, since he'd probably say something like "we're married". Tino immediately claps a hand over Berwald's mouth, something that he would never have plucked up the courage to do if it wasn't Very Necessary to protect his child's innocence, even after centuries of living together.
"It's for foreign relations," he says hurriedly, then, "I don't think you're old enough to learn about that yet."
And, because Sealand is a good boy (and because Finland can be very scary sometimes, given the right situation), he shuts up.
He'll have to ask England about that soon, whatever foreign relations meant.