If he was asked to describe the communication between him and the other nordics, Sweden would probably say "None." He wondered if it was was a trait specific to Nordics, or just because they were countries, but the important things, the things that needed to be said the most - those were the things no one said.

Even Denmark, overflowing with enthusiasm and the most talkative of the Nordics, would beam and chatter even right up to his death and never say a word of anything important. Even when he and Sweden fought to the death, fighting for land and the right for a family, even in the most serious of fights, Denmark treated it like a game. Maybe that was the only way he knew how to treat it, the only way he could cope with the pressure. Whatever the reason, it was a enough to let Sweden know that they were incompatible as people, like salt rubbing in a wound. Sweden didn't like fighting Denmark's smile.

Norway was the opposite. Whether it be celebrating his birthday, or fighting a losing battle, his face never changed, and his tone remained hollow. It felt like a part of Norway had already given up, like he was putting up a sheild do that when things fell apart it wouldn't hurt so much. Only once in his life had Sweden seen the expression on Norway's face break and give way to a raw emotion, and protectiveness and fear that made even Sweden take a step back, despite the fact the glare hadn't been directed towards him. Norway had grasped the sleeping form to his chest and snarled in a tone very unlike him only four words.

"If you hurt him-".

That was the first and last time Sweden saw Norway's mask crack, and following his brother's example, the object of his protection also struggled with expressing himself.

In a way, though, Sweden thought Iceland was the only one who said what mattered. Even though he refused to call anyone "big brother" much to all of their disappointment, even though he claimed they were embarrassing and stupid and cramped his style, Iceland still communicated the important things. Even when he was embarrassed, he said "Thank you." Even when he felt shy, he had eventually cracked and called (only) Norway "Big brother", and he never hesitated to cleary express his boundaries, whether it be little things like stating he didn't want to be treated like a child, to the larger things, like demanding his independence.

Sweden wondered if it was because he was so young that Iceland was so expressive, if he had something that none of the others had. Maybe if he knew what that was, he'd be able to say the words that somehow he could say in his head but couldn't seem to say out loud. He could tell Denmark when he was being too much, encourage Norway and make Iceland feel like he was accepted. Maybe he'd be able to comfort Finland and maybe he'd be able to tell Finland all the emotions he couldn't make himself say.

Maybe if Finland had what Iceland had, he'd finally tell Sweden what he felt.

Sweden knew that Finland was a liar. They all were, of course to some extent and all of them struggled to communicate, but still, Finland lied the most. To an outside eye he might appear the most expressive and communicative, but that wasn't truly the case. He knew, even back when he'd grabbed Finland'd hand and stormed out of Denmark's house, that first night they'd spent on their own, that Finland was uncomfortable. Sweden was a listener, not a talker. He watched and heard things, and he knew the other Nordics well. He could tell that Finland was uneasy, and wondered if he shouldn't have made him come. He shouldn't have called Finland his wife, accidently letting slip feelings he'd never meant to announce, and certainly not in that way, in that place.

He'd regretted it, when the two were laying under the stars together, and Finland had yelled upon seeing his face. He knew the that Finland didn't like him, that truefully they barely knew each other and never spoke. He knew that Finland probably didn't want to be there with him, but even so, he'd ignored it. He'd tried to pretend that Finland was happy, tried to win him over and make him at ease, and each time when Sweden relented, when he gave Finland a chance to escape, to say his own feelings, Finland made a face like a child pretending they liked a bad gift and said that he was alright, he had nothing he wanted to say, everything was perfect.

Finland wasn't a good liar. His tone went high, his face turned awkward, and the words sounded strained. Sweden wondered how no one else could see through the obvious lies that Finland told, whether it be pretending he wasnt injured or pretending he liked a sweater so ugly that it made Sweden's eyes Itch. Maybe it was because Sweden had watched Finland for so long, because he'd heard more than he let on, that Sweden was the only one who could tell when Finland lied.

Like when Finland said he was okay, but his shoulders bent in and his voice trembled and his eyes looked old and tired. Like when Denmark has said that it was cool that Sweden and Finland were such good friends and Finland's back went stiff and his eyes went down and his voice sounded unconvincing as he agreed. Like when Sweden asked Finland if there was anything he wanted to tell him and Finland had squared his shoulders, took a deep breathe, and looked at Sweden with the eyes of a battle hardened warrior as he assured Sweden there was nothing he wanted to say.

But just because Sweden could tell when Finland was lying didn't mean he knew the truth. His observations met a wall when he tried to read Finland, and he knew that despite Finland's easygoing attitude, he was always alert, always on guard, and Sweden couldn't break through those walls.

Maybe Estonia could. Maybe he knew why Finland didn't like Sweden, why he went stiff and awkward around Sweden, why he lied to Sweden the most. Maybe that's why Estonia was always looking towards Sweden with that uneasy and guaging look when he visited. But then that was only speculation, and maybe Sweden was just imagining that. In fact, Estonia was always quite nice to Sweden and Sweden almost thought Estonia liked him, or at least accepted his presence. But Estonia wasn't a Nordic, not really, no matter how much he wanted to be, and Sweden didn't know him like he knew the others.

Maybe it was all nothing but Sweden's imagination. Maybe everything he thought he knew was wrong. That's why Sweden wished he could say the things he wanted to say. He wished he could ask them all what they really thought, what they really wanted. But, even then, he thought they would never tell him. The Nordics were terrible at communication, after all, and they never said the important things.

Maybe, if Sweden was able to say the things he wanted to ask, and maybe, if Iceland felt inclined to answer, he could have asked Iceland what he had that made him different than the rest. Maybe, if he'd thought to ask his very own micronation, Ladonia could have easily answered. Maybe he could have spoken what he really wanted to say to Finland directly, and maybe, just Maybe, Finland would tell him the truth in this one moment, and Sweden would finally find out for himself what that thing Iceland had was.

But the Nordics were bad at communication, especially saying the important things, so Denmark kept smiling, Norway stayed emotionless, Finland kept lying and Sweden didn't say what he wanted too. Iceland kept shaking his head at his hopeless family that couldn't even say the important things, and Ladonia met a friend who said them easily.

Maybe, sometime in the future, Denmark's smile would finally slip, Norway's mask would crack, Iceland would admit to something that embarrassed him and Finland would tell the truth. Maybe Sweden would finally say what he wanted to, and Ladonia would get one more member to his family, and finally, finally, there would be a member of the Nordics who said the important things,

and maybe,

Just maybe ,

Everything would be okay.

But the future seemed a long time away to Sweden, and "maybe" seemed more like "never." To Finland, quietly watching Sweden stare blankly at the snow during his internal struggle, telling the truth was harder than any lie he'd ever told, and though neither of them knew it that "maybe" in future wasn't all that far away after all, and less of a "maybe" and more of a "definitely."

Sweden let out a deep sigh, and Finland took a determined step out of his hiding place, determined to say the truth once and for all.

Sometimes the important things are said after all.