Acknowledgements: Thank you to The-Macer-of-Dale, Blackdevil Nightheart, Mely-Val, IrishMaid, B-The-Geek, Pedro-IS-Madi12, Percabeth is Awsome, cullinane, Go LilixIcy, Missmanda, Einsam-Schatten,, Becky 999, Kate Marley, Typewriting Fangirl, fishstick1999, Envie Rouge, Laughinthefaceofdanger, Missflutterpie, abbydobbie, saraholly, Draskar, julyza, Deefangirl, Pandoala, Hintori-time, Senor Tree, Wandering Authoress for the reviews, PMs, faves and alerts and of course all my other readers. (If I've missed anyone please tell me.)
White Wedding
Chapter 15
At a small church in the South of England…
The vicar peeked out of the vestry at the strange congregation. He had never expected to see the Pope, what appeared to be several Mafia bosses (they were), two pirates, a nun, Robin Hood and a male genie in his church.
He crept out and was met by a very camp genie, who had his hands on his hips. Poland (for it was he) was wearing a very fetching jewelled bra top, his midriff showing, and silky flowing trousers.
"I'm sure the bride will be here soon," Poland told him. "Do you want to make a wish? I'm a genie!"
"Er no…" the vicar said, trying not to look at Poland's stomach.
"Suit yourself, honey." Poland flounced off to sit with Lithuania, who had his head in his hands.
The vicar winced, he'd never been called 'honey' in his life. He was quite relieved when a sensible-looking young man approached in a nice suit, wearing glasses.
"Are you the groom?" the vicar asked. "Time is getting on…"
"Good God no. Eduard Von Bock," the young man said, extended a hand. The other hand was shoving a bulging wallet into his inside suit pocket. Estonia had just relieved the Mafia of their 'admission fee' for the wedding. "The bride and groom will be along any minute now."
"Do you want to make a wish?" Poland asked loudly. He was talking to Lithuania. But the whole church heard him. Poland appeared to be taking his role as genie far too seriously.
"I wish Germany was here and he would ask me to marry me!" Italy (dressed as the Pope) said. Unfortunately he said this to the Mafia boss sat next to him.
Lithuania sniffed into his kleenex.
China snuck up to Estonia and the vicar. "It's none of my business but…" he began.
"You're right. It's not," Estonia said.
China, being older than any of the assembled ages put together, including the church, ignored this, "I think you should make an announcement. Some of them," here he indicated with a nod of his head, "… are getting restless."
Estonia sighed. China was right. The congregation were getting restless. A war could quite easily break out when the Nations were assembled in one place with nothing to do.
Switzerland had been forced to leave his beloved rifles at the hotel (he had been shocked to find that firearms in public were likely to cause much alarm in Britain) and sat twiddling his thumbs and glaring at Iceland (who sat next to him) and Italy who sat opposite completely oblivious. Finland and Sweden were sat near them looking disapproving. If they disapproved of Switzerland, or whether they were disapproving of Sealand who was telling everyone that he was now Catalonia, is unsure.
The bridesmaids, such as they were, were sat in the front pews discussing the possibility of Arthur being on a cargo boat to Peru, eloped with France or suffering from amnesia and now living in an obscure Scottish town living the life of a normal human.
Estonia coughed and tried to get everyone's attention, "Excuse me!" he called.
China yelled, "Hey! Everyone! You are all here at special invitation of the bride's family, so I think you should show every courtesy!"
Everyone looked up. They all knew what this meant.
"Erm, the bride will be here shortly and…" Estonia began.
"The bride is short?" someone asked.
"No, she'll be here shortly," Estonia asserted.
"Just listen to him, idiot!" someone admonished the first person.
"And so will the groom…" Estonia continued.
"Yeah, I bet! He's done one and if he's any sense he will have started a new life somewhere in the Outer Hebrides," Hungary said.
"Where's that?" Latvia asked.
"I don't know."
"The groom should really be here by now, it's okay for the bride to be late, it's her prerogative," the vicar whispered to Estonia.
"Yes, he will be," Estonia said, crossing his fingers behind his back.
The horse and carriage (actually a farm cart) had already been round the roundabout six times. Each time they'd stopped at the church and a 'sensible' usher (or really the only two Nations that Estonia could now bribe) had shook their head sadly.
"We've passed this roundabout a few times now haven't we, sestra?" Belarus said, picking at her dress.
Ukraine was praying to whatever Slavic god might be listening and building herself up to telling her little sister (who she actually loved very much) that her groom was not coming and thinking up some elaborate torture they could inflict upon him when they did catch him just to cheer her up. But her thoughts were interrupted by a Royal Mail van that sped past them and mounted the pavement outside the church.
"I wonder…" Ukraine began to say.
But she wondered no more, as the doors were flung open, Russia leapt out and dragged out a very bedraggled-looking England and a familiar-looking man in half a pink bunny costume.
"Yorkshire, just once more round the roundabout and then we're going in," she called.
"Bloody good idea. I think it's starting to snow!" Yorkshire called back.
Ukraine frowned. Surely not? It was early April in England. Did it snow in April in England?
She voiced these concerns to Belarus, who nodded. "It can do anything weather-wise in England. You can get all four seasons in one day here," Belarus said. She said it with awe in her voice.
Ukraine shook her head, "It is not going to snow," she told Yorkshire.
Yorkshire ignored her, geed up the horses and mumbled something to his ferret (also confusingly called 'Bob').
Russia pulled a protesting England towards the church. "I say! Will you just stop right there! I mean where are we? What are we doing?" England said, dragging ineffectually on Russia.
Austria was dragged along with him, "This is disgraceful! Will someone just detach me from this idiot?"
Russia wasn't listening. He was just determined to get England into the church. He stopped to talk to one of the ushers (Spain and Romano).
"Is the bride here yet?" he asked.
They fought to answer him.
"She just went past," Spain said.
"In a farmcart," Romano added.
"For the fourth time," Spain said.
"Sixth, tomato bastard. You weren't looking. You were too busy smoking."
"I was not!"
"Estonia paid us to stand here and watch out for them but I should get your money."
"I need that money!" Spain protested. It was not a good day for him. He had (allegedly) lost Catalonia to Sealand in some sort of contract he couldn't remember agreeing to and now he was about to lose money to his once-underling.
But when they finally finished arguing and looked round, Russia had already gone.
Russia plonked England in front of the vicar and Estonia and said in a triumphant voice, "There!"
"Erm yes… is this the groom?" the vicar said.
"Yes, yes it is," Estonia said with much relief.
"Nyet, I'm not!" Russia said with alarm.
Latvia stood up and took his arm, "I'm so proud of you."
"You are?" he asked.
"Yes, you got England here when we all thought he had run away. Well done," she said, putting her arms around him and hugging him.
"I did!" Russia said. "No thanks to silly America and he was supposed to be the best man!"
"Excuse me, but can someone get me out of these handcuffs?" Austria said.
Russia spun round, thought about hitting the angry-looking Austrian, but broke the handcuffs instead with his bare hands. "There," he said.
"Why didn't you do that before?" Austria asked, disbelievingly.
Russia shrugged.
"I don't feel well and I'm not sure if I can do this today…" England said, looking very pale. He sat down on the steps to the altar and looked around with glassy eyes.
Russia shoved Austria out of the way and pulled England up by his collar, "You will marry my sestra or…"
He didn't get to finish as the doors to the church slammed open and a loud voice yelled, "Two man party pack coming through!"
Prussia and Denmark swaggered down the aisle of the church, the former did a very elaborate crossing of his chest and bowed to the front of the church. They then shoved people aside to sit down. "Coming through, mind the pregnant lady…" Prussia said, in his outdoor voice.
They had six cases of beer between them, were followed by an embarrassed-looking teenage boy and Germany who really wished he was anywhere but there.
Russia growled instinctively and thought about going to punch Prussia but England's disturbed mind stopped him.
It was Austria who came to the rescue.
"If you think I have come all this way, suffered - yes suffered - two ferry crossings, been beaten, handcuffed to you for 12 hours, kidnapped, falsely accused of being a terrorist, arrested, thrown into a police cell, deprived of sleep and been forced to endure the company of such dreadful individuals…"
(Russia looked around, saw Scotland staggering down the aisle with Russi-cat in his arms, and assumed it was Hamish whom Austria was talking about.)
"… just so you can decide you have changed your mind which means then that we are all - and I mean ALL - dead, then you are sorely mistaken! You will stand up and be a Nation… I mean er… a man! And you will marry that girl or I will…" he stopped as Hungary put her arms around him.
"Oh Roddy! What did they do to you?"
"It's been horrendous, Lizzie," he said into her hair.
England stood up, "Thank you, er… Roddy…"
"Don't call me that."
"And Russia…" he went to shake Russia's hand.
Russia stepped back, "Don't touch me."
England frowned, he felt very odd. "I feel most unaccountably unwell," he said. "Excuse me one moment," he added, turned and threw up in the font.
The vicar's mouth flew open.
"We will of course pay for any damages," Estonia said quickly.
"I er… can we just get this wedding under way?" he asked, shaking violently.
Estonia nodded. "Just send me the cleaning bill," he said, handing the vicar a business card. "Oh, and if you need any advice on pensions…"
The vicar stared, put the business card in his vestments and said, "Okay, but where's the bride?"
Russia shoved England next to Estonia, said to Estonia, "Keep him there. Do. Not. Move," and dashed back down the aisle to get his sister.
But she was already in the church, having elbowed Romano and Spain out of the way. Ukraine straightened out the Cinderella bridal dress and then her own luminous peach dress. She was about to take her sister's elbow and walk her down the aisle when Russia skidded up.
"Come on, little Bela, let's do this," he said, using Belarus' pet name.
"Oh brother… at last…" she said, misty-eyed.
"Da…" he said and took her arm.
"It's the day I've always dreamed of…" Belarus continued.
"Da… whatever…" Russia said, marching her resolutely down the aisle.
They were stopped in their tracks by Estonia waving at them.
The organist (a man who looked at least 80) began to play the Bridal March.
Russia took hold of his little sister and marched forward with a set expression on his face.
"Why are you dressed as a postman?" Belarus asked.
"Because America didn't do his job as best man," Russia replied.
"You mean me?" came a voice from behind them.
America skidded into the church as only an American can.
He ran past them. Stopped and turned, "Am I supposed to be giving Belarus away?" he asked.
"Nyet, I'm doing that. You're the best man," Russia told him. But he said the word 'best' with some hesitation and amazement.
"Right you are!" America yelled and slid down the aisle, coming to a smart stop at England. "Yo!" he said.
"Where the bloody hell have you been?" England snarled.
America shrugged and straightened his tie. "I came in on a helicopter. It was great, man!"
France squeezed past Russia, "Excusez-moi…" he murmured.
Russia stuck an arm out to stop him, "You will sit down and be quiet and after my sister is married, I am going to kill you," he said simply.
France gulped, plonked himself down next to Prussia, who shuffled away from him.
"Am I doing the right thing?" Belarus asked, trying to slow down Russia's march.
"Da," Russia insisted.
"I know but… brother… I always thought…"
"Nyet…" Russia said.
"But I don't know…" she hesitated as she looked at all the people around her.
"Do you love him?" Russia asked, looking at England ahead of them. Arthur Kirkland looked bedraggled, in a suit too large for him, pale and pasty and as if he'd been dragged through a hedge backwards.
Belarus nodded and then stopped and looked at her brother. "I love you too, big brother," she said and then she looked at Arthur, "But I love Arthur as well."
Russia nodded and put a speed on, practically ran the rest of the way and handed her hand to England.
England almost fell over.
"You look beautiful… like a princess… and… have you been on holiday?" Arthur said, looking in amazement at her fake tan.
Belarus shook her head. "You look… weird," she said.
"Who gives this woman to be married to this man?" the vicar asked.
"I do!" America yelled.
"No you don't, I do. I'm acting as her father!" Russia said, and then added, "I do!"
"Are we married now?" Belarus asked.
"No!"
It's snowing outside!" Romano said, sliding into the church and trying to shut the huge heavy church door.
Everyone jumped up to have a look.
"Sit down everyone until my sister is married!" Russia yelled. His voice echoed off the 500-year-old walls and the stained glass windows shook dangerously.
"I was just saying…" Romano said, sitting next to France who smiled at him.
Spain and Yorkshire then came in, slamming the church door shut with a clang. "It's snowing! It's very beautiful and white and…" Spain began to say excitedly, then seeing Russia's stony glare, he shuffled into the pew next to Romano who subsequently grumbled.
Yorkshire shuffled down the aisle, his ferret (also called Bob) ran ahead of him. "I bloody hope this isn't going to take a long time, I've got to get back to the farm," he said.
Russia picked up 'Bob' and gave him back to Yorkshire, "Sit down," he growled.
Russi-cat, who was sat on the altar like some kind of cat god, hissed.
The ceremony continued.
"Who has the rings?" the vicar asked.
America who had been stood grinning inanely at the whole crazy 'shebang' looked around stupidly.
England nudged him, "You, you moron. You should have the bloody rings."
"Me?"
"Of course, please tell me you have them?"
America dug around in his jacket pockets, then his inside pockets, he found a broken transformer toy, a dollar bill, a credit card and a packet of gum in one trouser pocket and a note in his other trouser pocket that said one word "RING". He frowned at that. Was he supposed to ring someone? He then remembered, it was to remind him about the rings.
"Come on…" England muttered.
Russia shuffled and said loudly, "We can do this without rings," he said hastily.
"No we can't," the vicar said.
America held up a hand, "Hang on there, buddy," he said.
"I'm not your buddy," Russia said with some contempt.
America didn't hear him but, alarmingly began to take off his shoes.
"Get on with it!" England muttered as the congregation got restless.
Belarus glared at America, who was oblivious.
America took off his socks and England almost exploded with rage. "You cannot take off your socks and shoes in a church," he said.
"Why?" America asked, most reasonably one might have thought.
"Because…" England began to say.
But America held up a very dingy-looking sock as if it were a thing of wonder.
Everyone backed away.
Even Prussia, who was telling all and sundry that he and Denmark had had 'jobs', even 'paying jobs' (much to Switzerland, Austria's and Germany's amazement) had to shut up.
America turned the sock inside out and, like a magician, pulled out a pair of rings. "Ha!" he yelled. "And you doubted me!" he said to no-one in particular.
"Damned right we did," England said, taking the rings from him.
"Firstly, I have to ask…" the vicar interrupted.
"I'm not gay," England said hurriedly.
"No, that's not it," the vicar said.
"Yes, I'm pregnant and so what of it?" Belarus said.
"No… I mean…"
"No, you can't have my Disney ticket," America said.
"Or my vodka," Russia said.
"No… I have to ask…"
"Why I'm so gorgeous? Eet eez a mystery…" France called out.
"Is there anybody here who knows of any just cause or impediment why this man cannot marry this woman?" the vicar called out. He was sweating and his face was flushed.
There was a silence that seemed to echo through the 500-year-old building. The vicar was about to continue when someone stood up at the back.
"I do. I know of a just cause and impediment! The groom is already married!"
Everyone looked around.
The person stood up, "The groom is already married to me!"
Belarus fainted.
**To Be Continued...**