Through the ages the proud country of Sweden had gone through battles and times of great despair. The sun would set on a summer evening, drawing shadows upon the corpses of his men. Leaving him in a bitter darkness as the biting cold of the night would set in around him. Yet still in only hours the sun would rise again, beating away the cold and shadows, casting its warm glow on the new graves. That seemed to be how life was for the Swede, just drifting from day to day. Until of course, he and all the other Nordics got lumped under the control of Denmark. Then suddenly life was full of strange new frustrations and secret interests in his new company of the delicate Finland.
But of course, those events were long ago, and Nordics had grown apart, only gathering when Finland managed to convince everyone; which was quite the task. Relationships had grown and enemies had been made, all together they were surprised they were all still called the Nordics, they had grown so far apart it was hard to think they were still classified together. Even so, somehow Sweden managed to find himself living with Finland in a cozy house out in the snowy landscape of his capitol.
But reminiscing on the past wasn't his cup of tea, or coffee. The Swede shook his head and started the coffee maker before going back to the door of the kitchen, glancing at the living room, finally settling his eyes on his 'wife'. Without a second thought he moved forward and retrieved a blanket and approached where she laid.
He watched Finland sleep for a moment; curled in the large red chair in their living room. He laid a blanket over her as she snored softly, a wet wash cloth positioned delicately on her forehead in place of her usual beret. Her soft blonde hair was splayed against the arm of the chair, her small hands curled under her chin. Finland was dressed in her soft pajama bottoms, sporting the Swedish flag, and her navy blue sweatshirt.
She cracked an eye open as Sweden laid the cover over her, "Thanks, Su-san…" Her voice was weak from her illness.
The blonde nodded down at her, " As l'ng 's y'u g't b'tter." He muttered, readjusting the wash cloth on her head. As he did the Finnish girl let out a string of consecutive coughs, each harder than the last. The fit made Sweden worry for a moment, but soon she stopped, settling back into her chair, smiling shyly at him.
"I-I'm fine…" Finland resisted to shake her head, as fear of the nausea it was sure to bring. "How is Norway?"
Sweden glanced over to the couch where the other female was laying a thermometer still hanging out of her mouth. Wordlessly, the only male in the house made his way over to her side and took the thermometer from her lips. "Hm…" Norway rolled her eyes open and stared blankly up at him.
"What is it?" Norway asked, shifting the top of the blanket around her to reach up to her chin. Underneath said thick, black blanket, she had on her black tank top and dense, fuzzy pajama pants. The country's short blonde hair fell onto the pillow she laid on and without the assistance of her normal cross hairpin, was completely disarray.
"Th' s'me 's b'f're…" Sweden replied and ripped the plastic covering off the end of the thermometer. The female on the couch nodded and turned on her side to suffer through her aching stomach, centering the heating pad better.
The blonde walked like a robot to the medical cabinet and took out another plastic slip for the thermometer. He returned to the room and went to the last girl in the room, laying sleepily and reclining back in the blue chair. Her white hair contrasted to her red face and normally stoic expression much like her sister's. But now she lay, vulnerable in her light pink nightgown, covered by a purple comforter.
Sweden leaned over her, "H'y, Icel'nd…" He tapped her shoulder with a gloved hand. The young girl's eyes fluttered open and she opened her mouth without a second thought. The man placed the thermometer under her tongue and stood back up to tend to Finland's dwindling water supply.
How all the female Nordics had gotten sick at the same time no one would ever know. How exactly Sweden got stuck caring for all of them wasn't that hard to figure out.
It was earlier that morning, it had started. His 'wife' Finland had woken up, coughing and sneezing. She had a high temperature and a throbbing headache. It didn't take a thermometer to tell Sweden something was wrong with her. So he began to care for her, hustling around with medicine, blankets, and ice packs. He was much better than a restaurant at keeping her glass of water cold and full at all times.
After Sweden had checked her temperature and found it had gone up, he made her take a shower, which he monitored by carefully pressing an ear to the door, listening carefully in case something went aria. Luckily she made it out in one piece. After that he made her lay down downstairs so Sweden would have an easier time keeping tabs on her.
Only a little after that did Norway appear at their house, Iceland in tow; decked in their pajamas and red in the face. The older girl explained that she had caught the fever from Iceland and now she couldn't take care of her and refused to call Denmark. Finland heard it from her place on the chair and called Sweden over; only to ask him if he would be kind enough to take care of them too. The face of innocence and pleading in her eyes was far too much for the Swedish man and he returned to the door to invite the ailing girls into their living room.
Now Sweden was hustling around the room, tending to all of the girls; perhaps taking a little extra time on Finland, but overall being an excellent nurse.
The blonde man glanced up at the clock on the wall and walked back over to the small pale girl on the chair, he took the thermometer carefully from Iceland's mouth and checked the reading. "Hm…y'ur f'ver h's g'ne d'wn a b't…" He mused and ripped the slip from the metal tip of the device.
The girl nodded and closed her eyes again.
A quick glance over the room revealed all the sickly girls had fallen asleep, leaving Sweden to relax for a moment.
The Swede sighed in relief and made his way back to the kitchen. He placed the thermometer back in its box and laid it on the counter. Then he turned to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup into his favorite mug; with the print of the Swedish flag and the Finnish flag clashed together. He ventured back to the doorway of the room where the girls were and sipped the dark substance absent mindedly.
The room was still for the first time that morning. No sound of coughs, sneezes, or moans of pain. Finally all that was heard was their breathing and the occasional rustle of blankets on furniture.
Sweden's eyes landed on Finland and he took the moment to appreciate just how beautiful the little country truly was. He smiled at her delicate features and small frame, even when curled in the chair with a red face, breathing through her mouth thanks to the congestion in her nose. The tissue she held against her nose in her soft, porcelain hand was crumpled and a dirty ivory, a hideous color compared to her shining golden hair. The man took a sip of the strong, black coffee; making a rare smile appear on his lips.
The peace in the room was almost too good to be true for Sweden. And as if on cue the front door burst open and the bellowing voice that could only belong to a certain obnoxious Danish man echoed through the house.
"SWEDEN!" The man lumbered into the room with rage outlining his features, "Where is Norge and what have you-!" His yell faltered as he noticed the women in the room, all now awake and glaring at him.
Norway coughed loudly into her hand, groaning at the feeling of it ripping her throat. Denmark stared at her, not even glancing at Iceland as she rolled over to return to her sleep. His eyes refused to move from her and soon he found himself stumbling over to her side, concern filling his gaze. "N-norge?"
Before she could respond Sweden had already clocked him over the head with his fist, "Y'u woke th'm 'p." His glare made the normally fearless man back away a bit, although used to the Swede's stares and threatening tone in his voice; this time he could feel the man's anger piercing into him as he glared. Likely because Finland was involved and he wanted her to get better as soon as possible. Either way he felt a shiver run down his spine as Sweden scowled at him so venomously.
Denmark put a hand on his head, making a small groan of pain. "Jeez…Alright, sorry!" He said, abnormally mild mannered and his voice soft. "I'll be quiet…"
Sweden couldn't help but stare for a moment, trying to figure out if the person before him was really the Dane he knew. But before he could question him further or kick him out, like he wanted to so badly, he heard a small voice from behind him, "B-Berwald?"
A small blush broke out on his face at being called by his human name, but he immediately responded by turning around to Finland. He was alert as he leaned down beside her, watching her carefully. "Hm?"
The blonde woman gazed at him affectionately for a moment, a small smile on her face despite her cheeks still being flaming and a tissue still pressed to her nose. Finland sniffed a bit before taking the tissue away from her face and moved her head forward to nuzzle Sweden's head. "L-leave him be…" She said, although her voice was weak and couldn't raise above a whisper. "N-Norway wants h-him h-here…" The smile grew wider on her lips, only cracking them more so than they were already.
Sweden stayed still for a moment, practically at war with himself over the matter, and the more he thought about it the harder it was to say no. Although he would have thoroughly enjoyed throwing Denmark back into the snow; Finland's half lidded eyes and feeble smile made his knees feel like jelly. Just being around her, even though they were 'dating' (married according to Sweden), made the Swede get butterflies. It always seemed like when he was around her she seemed to carry a kind of warm atmosphere with her. All he wanted to do was bask in it all day long, just sit with her in his arms and treasure that comforting warmth. And when she smiled up at him, her eyes slipping closed and her lips pressed upwards, as though the picture of innocence and joy. He felt his face heat up every time she would hug him or hold his hand.
In his head Sweden was sure that a man like himself, once a ruthless Viking, didn't deserve someone so kind. He was sure she had seen his tempers, she was there when they were under Denmark's rule; so she knew how violent and powerful he was. But for some reason she was relaxed around him, freely touching him and leaning on him. Stranger still was that when he actually asked her about why she wasn't afraid of him, she had responded that at first she was, but after awhile she knew him better and began to love his gentleness. Which only served to confuse him more, but he decided to dismiss it; deeming it more important that at the present she loved him, and he loved her.
"..Ok'y." Sweden said, only to be greeted by Finland smiling again and moving up to peck his nose. Then just as his face began to heat up again, she had snuggled back down in her blankets, the fever taking over again.
Pushing down his blush he quickly went to fetch another rag to place on her head to help lower the fever. Just as he was exiting the room with the warm and slightly damp wash cloth in hand he could see Denmark watching Norway lovingly, murmuring to her.
The Norwegian had shifted to face the blonde beside her and found her face very close to his. But then again, that was normal, he always seemed to be wanting in her personal space. She ignored it and watched him wearily, just waiting for him to start rambling loudly to her.
But to her surprise when he opened his mouth, his voice, normally so deep and booming, was quiet and soft. "Are you ok? Do you need anything?"
Norway stayed quiet for a moment, letting her eyes slip closed just as they began to burn. "No…" Slipped out of her mouth, still resting her eyes and breathing deeply, "I don't need anything…I'm just kind of cold." She said, just as a small shiver moved up her spine.
Without waiting Denmark slipped away from the couch and found a blanket from the woven basket behind the couch that held all the blankets and quilts. He chose a decently thick one, making sure it wasn't cold from being folded up in the basket. Then he navigated silently back around and tenderly laid it over her and tucked it around her feet. The care he took was surprising to Norway, she only saw him like this on very few occasions.
Before she knew it he was back to crouching in front of her, his face level with hers, his breath hitting her face warmly. Secretly she noted that his breath smelled rather nice that day, like rich dark coffee. The scent made her eyes slip shut and her body relax into the building warmth of the blankets and the couch. As she felt herself be lulled into a peaceful twilight, she moved her hand slowly out of the covers and opened it to the blonde beside her.
Denmark watched as she opened her eyes sleepily and glanced down at her hand and back to him. A smile grew on his face as he covered her hand with his, tangling their fingers and leaning forward to kiss her forehead softly. Even through the thin layer of hair Norway felt his lips at her head making a rare smile tug at her lips as well, closing her tired eyes and letting herself be swept away by the waves of comfort pulsing through her, fending off the twisting pain in her stomach and the throbbing in her head.
From the kitchen Sweden watched out of the corner of his eye the scene unfold, making him feel slightly odd. As though there was some sort of truce called between himself and Denmark because of the sudden sickness that had infected the three girls. They decided it mentally, he'd allow the Dane to stay in the house and not be attacked as long as he was being quiet and taking care of Norway, otherwise he'd be kicked out into the snow. He could feel the peace of the room swirl and settle in his stomach comfortingly. The man took a sip of his coffee, silently musing how the women's sudden illnesses had brought all the Nordics there together. And it definitely seemed like Norway was being more caring for Denmark than usual, and in return he was showing a side of him normally never seen. Sweden could feel a small change in himself too, a kind of comfort at being around all of the other Nordics. Not like when they were all under Denmark's rule, but almost like…almost like a family.
He mused over the thought for a moment before entering the living room again to stand beside his 'wife'. The small woman looked up to him with tired eyes and smiled weakly before curling back up to sleep more, but not without reaching a hand out to Sweden. The blonde took it without question and watched her nuzzle it as she fell back asleep.
With a smile the Swede glanced around the room, realizing just how this sickness wasn't quite as much of a bother as he originally thought it to be. Actually, perhaps this was some sort of work of fate. This plague that befell them maybe was only to draw them all back together. Whatever it was, Sweden would just wait through it, like he had done through the ages. But this time, he'd wait with all of them.
I've been working on this for like a month cuz I forgot about it! . But now it's up, and hopefully its not horrible! I hated myself for the choppy transitions between pairings, and leaving Iceland all alone. But in this fic you probably didn't know but she's supposed to be pretty young, like 11 or 12 so she doesn't need a boyfriend.
Yeah and it's so short...it bothers me. But I didn't want to milk out the idea too much, it was awful as is. And I apologize for my terrible attempt at Sweden's accent. I know I fail "=_=
Disclaimer: Hetalia doesn't belong to me! Nor does the preview image!
REVIEW PLEASE! It's greatly appreciated when you do! I love those things almost as much as Christmas and kitten