Author's note: Compare the relationships from five years previous to where we are starting off now; it's amazing how much they've changed.
I'll also point out the points where Sweden comments that he and Norway have done the same things Denmark is doing now. Because this is from Sweden's POV Denmark comes off the worst, but Sweden is very much aware that he and Norway are no better and would have been just as dickish were they the leads in the Kalmar Union. Countries have got to survive, no matter the cost.
But Finland is forever sweet like sugar. Easy to see why Sweden finds him endearing. Not easy to see why Finland doesn't just have sex constantly with him.
Five Loves for Berwald Oxenstierna
3. Timo Väinämöinen
In this cold castle, so unlike the warm wooden structures that housed him when he last lived in Denmark, Berwald watches his young ward grow from a quiet boy to a handsome teenager. It doesn't stop him from hating what the Kalmar Union is doing to them.
Not that it's quite so terrible for Timo, who is mainly insulated by nature of his land belonging to Sweden. It's Berwald that bears the brunt of it, the beatings, the lashings. Christen's only become harsher over time with each day that he realizes how much of Berwald's heart belongs to Timo; it's not uncommon for him to catch the Dane screaming, "You promised me forever!", as he whips him. The guilt stings worse than the whip.
He had promised forever. But then he'd returned to what is now called Sweden, had gone on the Second Swedish Crusade and been there when they found a small boy bleeding too much to possibly survive. The soldiers had brought him to Berwald when the boy didn't die during the night, and the eldest Swede had recognized immediately who this must be. Just like Christen, just like Lukas, just like Berwald: he was an immortal.
And now they understand why they are immortal, because they are countries incarnate. So many more they've found, met along the way, but the Nordic countries have only each other to depend on (as much as they can do that). Let the others fight amongst themselves; the five most northern immortals have always preferred each other's company.
Lukas has Emil, nearly as small and young as a child. And Berwald has Timo, growing too quickly, losing too much innocence. And Christen has his thirst for power over them, his lust consuming him like a burning fever. The balance is there, between the countries, but Berwald knew it was strained from the start.
The three largest nations meet regularly, Lukas and Berwald left to voice the concerns of their young wards against Christen's annoyance and protests. The Swede is starting to get the impression that after he left Lukas took his place in Christen's heart, and so now the Norwegian is as much detested as he is for finding another to give his love to. Party of him even pities his oldest friend for it.
Yet Lukas does not love Emil the way Berwald loves Timo. Each day he can feel it slowly growing, aware of it after the centuries of watching the boy grow to the handsome teenager he is. He's a bit clumsy with a sword, a bit clumsy with his actions, but there is something to him that Berwald cannot deny. He is endearing in all he does to his Swedish lord.
Berwald wishes he could be so easy to deal with for Timo, yet he is, despite his best efforts, quite the opposite. After decades away those Swedish people, unseen to Berwald for so long, are slowly beginning to rebel against the union. Everything he knows of what is going on comes from the meetings of the three nations and from correspondence that is filtered through Christen's secretary. Sometimes he goes weeks without a letter, knowing that it was probably instead delivered to Christen, who burned it without a second thought. Not that he can blame him; Berwald has done the same thing with letters addressed to Timo.
He's walking down the hall, intent on seeking out a book to read while Lukas is away; Timo is rarely good company in the evening, too scared to say anything. So instead he allows the Finn to hide in his room, and Berwald becomes lost in his thoughts of what book to pick when suddenly he is stopped by Christen.
"You used to love me," he starts in immediately, grabbing the front of Berwald's shirt. "We used to be so in love Berwald, and now your people are rebelling against us, against me." In his free hand he's holding a crumpled up piece of paper, the seal indicating that the letter is Swedish; it is probably yet another letter the nation will never read, the cause of this sudden confrontation.
Calmly Berwald takes the hand in his, removing it from his clothing. "Those are two separate things," he states flatly, and though Christen's face is still as angry and wild he can see in those Danish eyes a moment of confusion. What Berwald felt for Christen, though greatly calmed, is still there; it is completely separate from what his people do or feel.
"I'm done holding back," the Dane growls. Berwald is about to make a comment about how surely Christen has not been holding back in his beatings of the Swede, which are terrible and violent and painful even for a strong man like himself. But there's a sudden sound as that anger he could just never control takes over Christen and it all goes black as the Swedish body hits the ground, the large Nord never delivering his snarky comment.
In the dark of early morning he groans. His throat is dry, his body sore, his head pounding. Berwald can tell he's in his own bed by the way it gives under his body, but there's something amiss that he cannot place. He tries to open his eyes but can't see; he needs glasses now, from all the beatings. A hand comes to Berwald's chest to calm his breathing, quickly beginning to pick up in panic.
"Please," a small voice pleads, a voice that's changed and lowered but is still high-pitched for a man. "Please, don't move. You'll hurt yourself if you do sir."
Mornings like these are the worst: not because he'll be stuck in bed for days, his body healing from whatever Christen did to him, but because it's Timo by his side. More mornings than not it's been Lukas, who is older and knows more of Berwald. He'd seen the man naked before, he's been with another man, he is- in a way- more of Berwald's equal. But dear, naïve, young Timo, when he's the one here Berwald feels awful. His voice is so weak and the Swede hates when Timo's the one stuck doing this; it's becoming more common for the Finn to be the one treating him, but that doesn't make it fair. Timo is sweet, innocent. He's never even kissed another, never seen someone naked, and already he must know Berwald's body too well, learned so much about the cruelty the three former Vikings are capable of, the abuses they can deliver time and again.
Berwald wishes he could give his ward a better life than this.
Timo stutters for a moment on the B sound before finally whispering, "Berwald," into the quiet room. There's a shifting beside him as Timo lays his head on the Swedish chest, his arms wrapping awkwardly around the much larger body. There's a wetness on his chest and a shaking in the small man; he can't see it, but Berwald knows he's crying. Timo only ever uses his proper name in moments like these, when he's upset and vulnerable and Berwald remembers just how young the Finn is.
"Berwald," he moans again, the sound becoming more perfected with each time he says it. Normally he calls the Swede "Lord Oxenstierna" to show respect, just like how he addresses Lukas as "Lord Bondevik" and Christen as "Lord Densen". Timo is perfectly allowed to call him by his Christian name in private but rarely does, shy but polite nation he is.
The Swedish nation wants to comfort him, wants to whisper gentle words and hold him to his chest. He wants to assure Timo that this will pass, tell him stories of when it was different, better. Remind him of how happy Christen was when they all first came here, remind him of the Christen Berwald grew up with. But he can't, and it's not just the physical pain holding him back on that; each time he falls in love Berwald's heart is left with a hole where the previous lover had once been. He loves his ward, but that love carries a guilt for what it means to the one he once called his best friend, that exquisite torture he gives Christen.
Timo is sitting at the end of his bed, his head bowed down, as Lukas leans in close to whisper with Berwald. Enough strength has come back for him to sit up, and upon returning Lukas had come to assist Timo in caring for Berwald.
"You do not have to stay," Lukas had informed the Finn coldly. "I can care for him now." The Norwegian is still suspicious of the Swede's ward.
"That- that's ok," the smaller man had managed under the harsh glare. "I- I- I don't mind." If it wouldn't've hurt so much, Berwald would have smiled at that small statement. They've made progress, for Timo to have said that.
Lukas sighs, resting his forehead against one of Berwald's cheeks. Lukas has always been someone he can be honest with, their secrets safe. The Norwegian gives his honest opinion always, helping the Swede to weigh out his decisions without bias, in a way that Christen never could and that Timo isn't ready for.
"And he will go with you? Willingly?" the man whispers against his neck, lips brushing skin. Berwald's eyes flick up to find Timo watching them, and upon being caught Timo's gaze drops again, his cheeks blushing profusely.
"Timo?" Berwald asks quietly. Immediately the boy panics.
"I- I'm sorry! I didn't mean to-" He stops when the Swede shakes his head. Lukas sits up a little, glaring between them, but while it bothers Timo that look long ago stopped affecting Berwald, who carries on.
"Timo, if I left-" and he pauses to repeat, "if I left," and Timo nods at the full implication of those words, "would you come with me?"
The quiet moment grows, no one saying anything. The Finn's eyes have nearly doubled in size, darting around in their sockets as he thinks.
"You do not have to," Berwald says quietly. Maybe that last statement was a lie, maybe his government would not let him leave the boy behind, but he means it. Finland may not have freedom from Sweden, but Timo is not Berwald's prisoner. He can't treat him like property, like the Nords used to treat each other.
The older men watch the boy swallow, nodding that he would come, which answers Lukas's original question. "Then I agree with you," Lukas whispers, standing. Timo looks between them, as if asking what just happened, but Berwald raises a hand to stop the question from coming. The Norwegian kisses his cheek, nods his head once to Timo, and leaves.
"What-" Timo scrambles to fill the unoccupied expanse of bed beside Berwald now. "What just happened, Be- Berwald?"
Berwald shakes his head. "Not yet Timo," he says simply. When he does not elaborate Timo seems suspicious, but there are details to still work out. Plans to be made. The Finn to worry about. He strokes one cheek greedily, longingly.
In the dead of night Berwald steals into his ward's room, gently waking him. "We are leaving," he whispers softly, and Timo tenses before relaxing, nodding in understanding of what those few words mean. He watches the Finn rise, silently dressing behind his back. Berwald takes in the moon, high in the sky, until Timo clears his throat to signal that the Swede may now turn around.
"Ready," he says almost happily, but there is fear in that voice, in those big beautiful eyes. Berwald steps to him, slowly, and the body starts to shake. He's not sure if it's in fear or anticipation, because of what they are about to do or what Berwald is doing now. But he comes to stand before the young boy, taking both sides of his face in hands, and bends down to look him in the eye.
Timo's breathing is already shallow when Berwald whispers, "You know I love you Timo." It is not a question; it is a statement. And the Finn only nods in understanding before licking his lips, all the signal his Swedish protector needs.
Those lips are sweet beneath his own, gentle, unpracticed. Berwald's body screams to consume the boy but he still remembers his first kiss, remembers each moment of it in his winter bed so long again, so he ignores his body in favor of doing right by the memory Timo will carry with him as they leave this place; Berwald will not repeat the mistakes he made with Christen on Timo. So he holds the Finn to his large body lovingly, caressing him, until he can tell Timo is out of breath and so breaks their first kiss. Their foreheads press together, Timo's eyes still closed in shock and awe and trying to process what had just happened.
Berwald had waited so long for that. God he loves this man, would do anything for him, and that's why they're doing this now, escaping into the night. He cannot salvage his relationship with Christen; maybe in a few centuries they can talk again, but not now, not like this in this failed union. Timo is something Berwald has yet to mess up, and that's why they're leaving.
Each house they live in back in Stockholm is built with two special rooms for Berwald and his ward, bedrooms beside each other because he does not want Timo too far from him. The architecture changes, yet the rooms remain the same.
But the Finnish man is still afraid of him, he can tell. They haven't really talked since they left, since Berwald kissed him. Most days Timo shakes in his presence; he's so much more peaceful when he thinks he's alone, out in the garden where Berwald can watch him unseen. He's happy there, serene, and Berwald wants to share in that with him, but the Swede has work to attend to and wars to wage and the throat of someone he once loved to try and slit.
So Berwald's surprised one night when there's a knock at his bedroom door. He had retired with a bottle of wine from Bonnefoy and a book from Lukas on his once-ætt the Steirnungs, who have become the powerful Oxenstierna family he still calls his own. Though Sweden is still a vast kingdom, its powers have started to diminish since their great empire had reigned unchallenged; Berwald worries for what would happen if Sweden was to lose Finland. The knock brings him from that train of thought and for a moment he thinks he must have imagined it.
There's another knock before Berwald calls out, "Come in Timo."
In the flickering candlelight he looks so pale, thin as if he has not been fed enough. Berwald gives Timo everything he could ever want, and yet the boy takes very little, normally keeping to himself and watching his lord from afar. The Swede does not know what more to do to bring the boy from his shell.
"Berwald?" Timo asks quietly, stepping towards his lord before the great fire place. The older man nods for Timo to sit on the plush carpet, to make himself comfortable, but instead the Finn continues walking closer until he is standing between his out-stretched legs. Berwald is confused, to say the least.
"Do you need something Timo?" he asks cautiously, but the boy shakes his head, taking a deep breath.
"Can I ask you something? I want you to answer honestly, the way you answer Lord Bondevik." The Swede nods; Timo is no longer the little boy he first met in the thirteenth-century, five hundred years having changed both of them. If he wants an honest answer, Berwald must try his best. He is no longer a child.
"Whatever you want Timo, you know I would never deny you anything." The Finn nods in understanding before licking his lips and it transports Berwald back to that intimate moment, the first kiss they had shared. His heart begins to race.
In the quiet a voice asks, "Do you still love me Berwald?" Timo's eyes are on the floor but the firelight betrays the blush growing on his cheeks.
One hand reaches out, stroking the sweet skin. "Timo?" Berwald asks breathlessly, and the Finn looks up to meet his gaze finally. "Timo, my feelings for you are as strong as ever. You are my everything Timo, I only wish to make you happy." They have always been like this, Berwald honest, Timo blushing. Their relationship has been constant these five centuries. The larger man feels no shame in so freely admitting his feelings to the ward he would do anything for.
There's a rustle of clothing as Timo fidgets before he leans forward, over Berwald's body, to press soft lips to that surprised Swedish mouth. But as the kiss deepens, Berwald letting his ward set the pace, the Finn relaxes. After several minutes he wraps his arms around Berwald's neck, settling over his lap on the chair. Experimentally the Swede wraps his arms about Timo's waist, pulling their bodies close. The Finn's mewl of approval drives him crazy.
"Tim-" Berwald starts; he cannot stop himself if the smaller man keeps this up. Berwald is not as innocent as him, and it has been too long since he has been with another. He needs Timo, he always has. Prostitutes no longer suffice.
"Don't," the Finn says against his lips. "Don't stop. I want you." And then they kiss again, more needfully, before Timo says what Berwald has always dreamed of hearing. "I love you Berwald. Please, love me like I love you."
They finish the bottle of wine, both needing to forget that little voice telling them to stop and think, to be shy or nervous or cautious. Timo's Swedish has become slurred, Finnish mixing in so that Berwald has to concentrate to understand him. Under the warm sheets his mouth runs over every part of Finnish skin as it is exposed, Timo moaning above him. Every touch draws a reaction until he is naked and Berwald indulges in stroking and sucking his hard member, his ward screaming above him, hands pulling painfully in his hair. But he never relents, wants Timo to only have the best experience to remember him by regardless of what might come to be. Berwald swallows when Timo comes.
Those Finnish hands are unpracticed as they pull at Berwald's clothing, and so his hands assist until he is being pushed to his back, Timo climbing over him. He's blushing but Berwald encourages him, directing him gently until the Finn is touching and kissing his hard chest, stroking his large member just until Berwald is about to come. In the dead of night, their breathing labored, Timo whispers, "How do we-", but Berwald cuts off the words, knowing what he is asking.
"Relax," the Swede whispers, pulling Timo to his chest, Finnish head buried in his neck. "It might hurt a little-" Timo nods "-but I will make it better. Trust me."
"I always have." There's a yelp as he prepares the young man, and after that he allows Timo to go at his own pace, sitting atop Berwald. His eyes roll back as his ward lowers himself more and more until he tells Berwald to move and they go slowly, Timo clutching at his chest. This time it's forever, Berwald promises himself as his lover screams out, this time for Berwald is the last time he is giving his heart away, and this time it will be forever as he comes, groaning contently.
"I love you Timo," he whispers, and the Finn kisses him at that.
"I love you too Berwald." This time is forever. All the mistakes he's made in the past are forgotten. Timo is perfect and their love is perfect and this time, this time Berwald means it.