Alright, a couple things:

1.) there's another implied sex scene, but it's at the end and there's less to it than the other one, so, yeah.

2.) I feel I should tell you that this story looks to be nearing the end, there might only be one or two more chapters after this one.

3.) America appears but only for a second. A cameo?

That's all, enjoy!

Berwald was dedicated. Ludwig had told him he would have to earn his trust back, and he intended to do exactly that. However, sometimes his dedication verged on overbearing, and more than once he had shut himself in their shared bedroom and didn't answer when Berwald knocked.

Although things had been getting better, and the household as a whole seemed happier, sometimes he still felt that same heaviness fall upon him, making it hard to smile, and to get out of bed. During these times Berwald watched over him obsessively, trying to cheer him up if allowed, bringing him food, and sometimes even just silently holding him while he read. Sometimes he sent him away, feeling like he needed to be alone, but Ludwig didn't seek out Mathias like he had before, though the Dane could almost always make him laugh.

Now, though, Mathias was mainly concerned with Lukas, and Ludwig found him sitting idly on the couch less and less. He had taken to following Lukas the way Hana followed Berwald, and although Lukas always seemed to shun his affections, he smiled when Mathias kissed him at breakfast.

Berwald seemed less bothered by their blossoming relationship, even if Mathias unintentionally seemed to rub it in everyone's faces. However, when Berwald tried kissing Ludwig in the mornings, Ludwig now always kissed him back. There was still distance between them, however, and more often than not, when he felt the sadness return, it brought the memories of that dreadful morning back to him. Although Ludwig didn't hate Lukas, he felt that they were back to square one with their own relationship, and secretly, he blamed him. He just couldn't imagine Berwald, even being completely drunk, willingly taking Lukas to bed. That might have just been wishful thinking, but now when Lukas called to Berwald, he didn't answer nor make any movement to leave unless Ludwig nodded to him first. He tried to tell him that was unnecessary, but Berwald did it anyway.

As far as their own relationship was going, they slept closer at night, and he let him hold him more, but the distrust kept a schism between them that widen and shrank depending on his mood, but that was always there.

The true borders of this gap were tested one night after a bit of extremely cautious drinking, the first since everyone had woken up with the wrong person, some more clothed than others. Once Berwald and Ludwig were alone and kissing on the bed, Ludwig felt a Swedish hand running down the side of his body, pausing at his hips. When they parted, Berwald looked up at him questioningly, silently asking for permission to undo his belt.

Ludwig would have been lying if he said he hadn't wanted to, but the alcohol made it hard for him to suppress the images of scratch marks on Berwald's shoulders, which had long since healed, but were nonetheless not made by him.

"Not tonight, Ber." he said, pulling back and getting off of him to go lie on his side of the bed.

Berwald was a patient man, and he would wait years if he had to, but he sighed exasperatedly as he moved over. Ludwig punched him in the arm and he grinned.

"I've got to be the only man on this damned rock that can't get laid," he huffed.

It was such an unexpected statement that Ludwig laughed, but then he scooted up against Berwald's side and thought about it.

"Hmm, no, that's not true. There's Tino."

It was Berwald's turn to be caught off-guard, and he laughed loudly before covering his mouth with his hand. "That's mean."

"It's true. Emil could probably get more—" Berwald grabbed his face and kissed him.

"Ludwig, you're drunk. Shut up." he ordered, but was smiling against his lips.

He smiled back, but complied. They fell asleep a little closer, but sometime during the night Ludwig had made his way back towards the edge of the bed again.

The following week was one of the worst since they had come to Iceland. He didn't want to get out of bed, much less dressed, and sent Berwald away much more frequently. He didn't know why it had hit him so strongly, but it was impossible to shake, so he just lied face-down on the bed.

On the third of fourth day, the door opened suddenly. Too suddenly to be Berwald.

"Hey, get your ass up and get ready, we're leaving in ten minutes!" Mathias shouted at him excitedly.

"Go without me," he mumbled.

"No can do," Mathias chirped. "Now rise and shine,"

Ludwig swore and pulled his pillow over his head.

For a moment there was nothing, a terrifying thing to get from Mathias, but then Ludwig felt as though the whole world suddenly surged, and the next thing he knew he was toppling to the floor with the heavy mattress coming down on top of him.

"What the hell is the matter with you?" he shouted as he shoved it off and scrambled to his feet.

"Ten minutes," Mathias winked cheerfully at him before leaving.

Ludwig glared at the door, but sighed heavily once he was gone. He then went about trying to flip the mattress back onto the bed, and made it quickly before cleaning up. He didn't want to go wherever they were going, but it was probably better to just give in than to have Mathias return. After all, according to his wild tales, he had once set his brother's sheets on fire in order to force him out of bed.

Once he made it downstairs, Mathias beamed at him, and then bounded after Lukas as he headed out to the car. Berwald waited for Ludwig, and they both left the house with Emil and Tino, who was carrying Hana.

"Are you sure we should bring the dog?" Emil asked.

"We can't just leave her home all alone, she'll think we left her," Tino cried, and then nuzzled the dog with his nose.

He rolled his eyes as everyone was loaded into the car, but began to grumble angrily when the small dog excited barked as the car pulled away from the house.

"Wait, where are we going?" Ludwig asked after they passed the first small town.

"Riekia—er, Rayjka," Berwald frowned intensely as he tried to say the name of the capital city.

"Reykjavík." Emil corrected irritably.

"That's what I said." the Swede teased.

"Why?" Ludwig asked him.

"Business." Lukas chimed in suddenly.

"…Emil needs to talk to someone, and it could be good to get out of the house," Berwald said a bit quieter.

"Don't they have a phone?" Ludwig mumbled, folding his arms and leaning back against the seat.

Berwald rolled his eyes at him. He scoffed, but felt himself almost smile.

Alright, maybe getting out of the house could be good. Maybe.

Reykjavík didn't seem as crowded as when they had first arrived, but there were still many American soldiers around. It made Ludwig anxious.

Once they dropped off Emil where he needed to be, Mathias asked where the nearest bar was, and the told him that's where they'd be when he was done. Emil rolled his eyes before turning away, and then they drove down a few streets before they found the place Emil had directed them to. Of them all, only Lukas really spoke the Icelandic language to any extent, but upon entering they found that the bartended spoke English, and so they had no problem communicating what they each wanted.

Still, the bar was full of Icelandic natives and U.S. soldiers alike. Even though Ludwig had never fought any Americans, it was almost impossible for him to relax. It became even harder when, after nearly an hour and a half, Tino talked Berwald into taking the car back to see if everything was alright with Emil, and Mathias loudly decided that Lukas and Ludwig would stay behind with him. Lukas didn't seem as uncomfortable as Ludwig, but he still shot wary glances around the room every few minutes, and glared at Mathias as he attempted to mingle with the people in the bar.

Inevitably, Mathias apparently met someone he liked, and hauled the person in question over to meet them, too.

"Luke, Luke!" he called excited, his new friend in tow. "I met an American!"

"No shit, they're all over," he grumbled in Norwegian.

Mathias almost didn't appear to hear him, and presented the man standing beside him enthusiastically. "This is Alfred!"

"Alfred?" Lukas asked, eyeing him.

"Alfred F. Jones, at your service," the American flashed a smile and put his hand out.

Ludwig shook it almost purely out of instinct. "Ludwig Beilschmidt. Nice to meet you."

He nodded happily to him, and then offered his hand to Lukas. He stared at it dully before eventually reaching out and shaking it too.

"Lukas Bondevik." he said.

Alfred nodded to him too, apparently unfazed by Lukas' lack of interest.

As they all sat together and talked, Ludwig found he liked the American more than he had anticipated. He and Mathias traded stupid jokes and colorful stories, and after only a few minutes, he was laughing too. The first time he smiled, Alfred seemed surprised, but then grinned at him. However, when Lukas apparently became the one who was in a bad mood, Mathias left to go over and try to talk to him, leaving Ludwig alone with Alfred.

They both watched Lukas try to shove Mathias away irritably for a moment, and then the American took a pull of beer.

"What's with them?" he asked as he nodded his head in their direction.

"Uh," he swallowed. "They're just like that,"

"Uh-huh," came the response, and after a moment, he cocked his head at him. "So, you're fightin' with your lover too, then?"

Ludwig must have looked as surprised as he felt because Alfred laughed before leaning forward on his elbows, looking at him over the rims of his glasses.

"W-What?" he demanded.

"No one looks at a fighting couple like that unless they're sympathizing," he said, and then tapped two fingers to his forehead. "It's easy to see if you pay attention."

Ludwig normally would have been angry enough to either punch him, or just stand up and leave, but instead he just glanced at Mathias and Lukas again, and then sighed. Alfred seemed to be waiting for him to speak.

"Forgiveness is, difficult," he mumbled after a moment.

The American sat back in his chair, hooking his arm over the back of the seat, as though that was exactly what he was expecting. "Yeah, but, I mean, you have to keep it in perspective."

Ludwig felt his irritation growing, his hand balling into a fist beneath the table; why did Mathias bring this man over only to leave him alone with him? And what did he know about anything? Ludwig shouldn't have said anything at all.

"And what exactly does that mean?" he asked after a moment.

He shrugged. "If someone's sorry, and you love them, you should forgive them. Not forgiving them won't make anything better, and holding a grudge certainly won't make you feel better."

Ludwig looked at him hard.

"After all," he winked with a small smile, unfazed by his glaring. "To err is human, right?"

He stared at him with a mixed feeling in his chest as the American suddenly pushed the chair back and stood up, looking at the window.

"But, it's good to see some actual sunlight around here. Iceland gets so dark," he said, and then clicked his tongue before leaving without looking at him again.

Ludwig watched the strange man leave, and then turned to look at the window. Maybe it really did seem brighter now…

"Hey, where'd he go?" Mathias asked when he returned, looking around as he held Lukas under his arm, apparently having been put back in a better mood.

"Oh, he left," Ludwig said quietly.

Mathias seemed sad, but only for a moment before he looked out the window. "Hey, Ber and Tino are back,"

"It looks like they've got Emil," Lukas mumbled, being dragged to the door by Mathias' arm.

Ludwig got up and followed them, but the others didn't come into the bar. Emil seemed too put out to want to drink, and Berwald and Tino looked strangely exhausted.

"Long day?" Lukas teased them in his even tone.

That was the first annoyed look Ludwig had seen from Tino. "Turpa kiinni."

Berwald looked surprise. Mathias snickered.

Regardless, they stayed in town for a bit longer, but eventually turned around and headed back to the house. Emil had apparently been calling contacts all over trying to find out everything he could about what was happening in Sweden. He whined that he was sick of living with them, and that he wanted to send them home as soon as he could. The thought of going back to Sweden made Ludwig's heart lift a bit, but apparently it wasn't safe enough yet. After all, it felt like this war was only growing.

That evening, once Emil seemed to have recovered from his annoyed state, Mathias insisted they drink the rest of the alcohol they had. Ludwig smiled, but shook his head and went upstairs. He honestly didn't feel like drinking, but not because he was sad. Since he had spoken with that American, he was realizing that he hadn't noticed how dark it had become. Now that spring was coming, and Iceland was beginning to lighten again, it was easier to see. This led him to notice something else.

When they had come, when it had been so dark, he had pushed Berwald away. Yet, he remembered the night he had intended to leave Berwald's house in Sweden. It had been the middle of the night, but when he decided to go back, it had seemed so bright…

There was a sudden knock at the door; Berwald had come up to check on him.

Ludwig had purposely left the door open, but Berwald didn't enter fully. "Lud? You alright?"

"Come here," he instructed, trying not to smile.

He obeyed, shutting the door behind him.

As soon as he came into reach, Ludwig grabbed his face and kissed his lips. Berwald seemed surprised, but kissed him back gently. Too gently.

When their lips parted, Ludwig hugged him tightly.

"Ber?"

"Yeah?"

"I forgive you," he said against his shoulder.

He said nothing, but his arms tightened around him.

"I trust you," he told him, pulling back forcefully so they were looking at each other. "And I love you."

"I-I love you too," he stuttered after a moment, still seeming surprised.

Ludwig smiled and kissed him again. And again. And again.

Berwald only left his lips wanting for the time it took to lock the door and remove his glasses. When they met again, he didn't kiss him so gently anymore. There was passion between them that had been pushed away for too long. Ludwig felt it threatening to consume him as Berwald's warm, strong body surrounded his. They pushed and pulled on each other until they eventually fell over on the bed. It creaked loudly in protest at their weight, but they didn't care. If it broke tonight, it would still be worth it.

Berwald told him that he loved him over and over again, even changing languages seemingly on accident, but continuously confessing his love any time Ludwig's mouth left his.

"Ber," he said close to his ear once he managed to pin Berwald on his back. "I get it. Shut up."

He frowned up at him in such an adorably offended way that Ludwig laughed. To make up for it, he nuzzled his neck and jaw, kissing him lovingly while their hands tried to claim everything of the other's body.

"I love you too," Ludwig told him when they kissed again.

Berwald opened his mouth to speak, but Ludwig saw it as an opportunity to invade, and took it. Swedish and German tongues met and embraced before tracing the familiar curves and lines of their mouths and lips. Berwald groaned softly into the kiss and Ludwig smiled a little in understanding. It had been far too long.

This time, when Berwald's hand moved down the side of his body to his waist, he didn't tell him that tonight wasn't a good night, he didn't get off of him, and he didn't push him away. This was a promise, a promise of forgiveness and love. He had been an idiot, but he loved Berwald, and he would make sure he knew it from now on.

Later that night, once it sounded like the others downstairs had passed out or gone to bed, Berwald and Ludwig lied together beneath the blankets, holding each other tightly. Berwald's fingertips ran up and down his arm slowly, occasionally moving up over his shoulder and along his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

"I love you," Berwald told him again, the blankets rustling as he leaned forward to press a kiss to his forehead.

"I love you too," he said, and then reached up and touched his face, speaking in German. "Du bist mein Licht."

Berwald closed his eyes at his touch, and then they both pressed their lips together softly, lovingly.

He understood. Of course he did. He had always understood.