The meeting started well enough. The World Court had not been the end of the matter, of course. America was trying to sue Norway, but no one would back him up. The case was dismissed.
The Scotland, of all people, raised his hand.
"Yes, Mr. Scotland?"
The Scottish man grinned and pulled France out of his chair. The Frenchman had not been paying attention, and was rather surprised. "What are you doing, Écosse?"
Scotland kept hold of France's hands as he knelt in front of him. "Francis Bonnefoy, je vous connais depuis longtemps, et je vous ai aimés depuis tout aussi longtemps." He pulled a small velvet box out of his pocket and opened it with one hand. "Veux-tu m'épouser?"
"Oui! Oui, je t'aime, Écosse!" France pulled Scotland to his feet and tried to kiss him. Scotland pressed a finger to his lips.
"Rings first, Franny." There were two rings in the box, one for each of them. Scotland pulled one out and slipped it onto France's ring finger.
France grinned when he saw the ring: tiny blue and white gems created the Scottish flag on an otherwise plain silver band.
"C'est magnifique, Alistor."
"Wait 'till ya see th' other ring."
"Zhe ozzer ring?"
Scotland pulled a second ring from the box and offered it to France. His eyes widened when he saw it: like the ring he know wore, it had a flag on it. This time, it was his own. He slid it onto Scotland's ring finger.
They kissed quite passionately after that. Most countries had the decency to look away (although Switzerland went a step further and covered Liechtenstein's eyes), but the Irelands cat-called quite rudely.
The meeting was adjourned for the day, creating an atmosphere of celebration.
Many countries were down in the hotel's bar, "drinking to the union." In reality, they were drinking because they were Prussia, Germany, Denmark, and other countries known for their copious consumption of alcohol.
Neither Scotland nor France was completely pissed, though. Scotland because the entire city of Bern did not contain enough alcohol to get him drunk, let alone the bar in one hotel; France because none of the wines had been quite to his taste.
Still, everyone else was drunk enough to actually follow Denmark's toasts of "Skål!", though they were becoming more and more infrequent.
Prussia had left his brother a while ago in favor of prettier company. Currently, he was sitting in a darkened corner with Hungary, who had also been drinking, on his lap.
England walked up to France and Scotland. He was surprisingly steady on his feet; he must not have had much to drink yet.
"I wish to offer my congratulations to you both," he began stiffly.
"Merci, Angleterre."
"I also wish to apologize to both of you for…the past."
"Tha's alright. I's in th' past, Little Brother. Families forgive each other."
England nodded, then a sudden horrifying thought came to him. "Bloody hell, you're part of my family now, too, you Frog!"
France would have responded, but he was interrupted by Denmark's "singing". Apparently, he had consumed a large quantity of beer, for he was "singing" what seemed to be "Part of Your World", from The Little Mermaid, in Danish, and he had invented quite a few new notes besides.
Thankfully, his "singing" cut off when Norway grabbed his tie and dragged him out of the bar, scolding him in mildly accented Danish.
"Would you like to come to zhe wedding?" France asked England.
England looked from France to Scotland and back again. "If I'm invited."
"Of course y'are. Yer family, Little Brother."
"I'll be there, then."
The festivities continued late into the night, well into the next morning, until (due to countries leaving alone or in pairs) the bar was empty.