Chapter 11

Maa on vaiti ja odottaa
The land is silent and waits

Iceland didn't visit the continent very often and due to this he communicated mainly through letters. Not that me minded, he liked writing and he was generally quiet so the lack of vocal communication didn't bother him too much. Besides, living under the rule of a loudmouth like Denmark taught one how to appreciate silence and actually thinking before acting. Expressing oneself on paper was so much simpler – and sometimes even more efficient in spite of the extra time it took – he could take as much time as he wanted and needed to think about what he wanted to say and how he wanted to say it. Writing eliminated misunderstandings pretty well as long as both parties involved knew the language used and trusted each other not to exaggerate – which Denmark tended to do sometimes.

Not that any of that mattered this time around; this time, he couldn't trust his thoughts to a letter alone. He wasn't even sure if his hypothetical missive would have even reached the intended recipient. Possible future letters were even less likely to do so; they would soon belong to different Kingdoms after all.

Not that he particularly cared of course; it was just a matter of convenience. Norway's presence in his life had been constant, never changing, eternal and infinite. Iceland had no wish to recall the times before, when Norway had not been a part of it. After he came into Iceland's life, the unflappable Nation had been as constant as the changing of the seasons as far as the younger Nation was concerned.

And now with this treaty that would come to an end, Norway would be gone and quite possibly unreachable.

His gaze flickered over the corridor before coming to a stop on a tall, blond-haired figure whose forehead was pressed against the window overlooking the harbour. The blue eyes were empty of all emotion and Iceland felt his breath catch in his throat at the robust Nation's uncommonly forlorn and defeated look.

"Danmörk," he called softly, coming to a stop beside his overlord.

The Dane blinked wearily down at him, his lips attempting to form something that only barely resembled a smile. "Ah, Island… You came then?"

Iceland felt his face flushing slightly in embarrassment, well-aware that his trip was very out of character. "Someone needed to look after the interests of us dependencies," he mumbled. Faroe didn't like Denmark and Greenland lived even further away so Iceland was naturally the best choice.

And it had absolutely nothing to do with Norway, nope, not at all.

The Island Dependency coughed meaningfully. "Should we… get going?" he asked uncertainly.

Denmark's expression darkened but he nodded, taking a deep breath as he straightened from his slumped posture, seeming to loom over Iceland who suddenly felt very small beside the Kingdom. Denmark frowned at the window and smoothed the wrinkles on his bright red vest and black jacket before turning to head down the corridor without a glance at Iceland.

They came to a stop before a dark door on which Denmark knocked sharply, his voice sounding hesitant. "Norge? It's time. We… need to get going."

Iceland's heart jumped to his throat as Norway opened the door slowly, his face as expressionless as always, his blond hair immaculately groomed and looking wholly unbothered by the Treaty they were about to sign. "Then let's," Norway said calmly, meeting Denmark's eyes expressionlessly.

An involuntary sound escaped Iceland, bringing the older Nation's dark blue eyes on him. For a moment the two of them stared at each other before Norway's gaze seemed to turn warmer. "Only you, then?" he asked softly, his hand rising to rest on Iceland's white-blond hair.

He could only nod, still staring at the Nation who had always been there. Norway was his first memory that mattered, before that there had only been fear and uncertainty, his people shunning him out of fear because he wasn't human. And now, somehow, he found himself returning to those times as his voice came out small and uncertain. "Do… do you really have to go, Noregur?"

Quite uncharacteristically for the Scandinavian, he pulled his small Dependency into a firm hug. And just as uncharacteristically, Iceland found himself answering the hug, his arms wrapping around Norway's neck as he stood on his toes and buried his face into the older Nation's shoulder. He smelled of pine and sea and fish, of cold winds and storms and snow.

"I'm afraid so," Norway murmured softly, dropping a gentle kiss on top of the younger Nation's head. "It'll be alright, lille venn."

Icy cold wind blew across the bare, rocky shore as the small form attempted to start a fire in a small barely-sheltered corner of some huge rocks. A cod lay on a large slab of stone next to him as he readjusted the few pieces of wood piled before him. He shivered as a particularly cold breeze sneaked its way beneath his leather tunic and tickled his sides.

He swallowed tears by screwing his face into a determined grimace as he hit the stones together again, trying to get the spark to catch on the wood. He knew he would go hungry and cold again if he didn't succeed.

There was no one willing to feed him.

The villagers didn't like him, they called him draugur and always drove him away. He guessed it was because of his nearly white hair and that one time he fell in the sea, ad didn't drown like all the other children… Maybe he really was a draugur? He sniffled a bit as the spark failed to catch again.

"Hv-hví?" he finally burst out, tears rolling down his cheeks as the flint fell from his cold fingers.

He didn't know how long he spent there, curled up on the ground, just crying beside the small pile of wood and the dead fish. He wondered if he would die there, go back to his grave like the villagers wanted. At least he wouldn't hurt then anymore or be cold…

Suddenly, he felt something warm being placed on his shoulders and fingers carding through his pale hair. "Hush… Hvem er du, lille venn?"

Iceland's breath caught again.

He felt a heavy hand squeeze his shoulder gently. "We really should get going, before they come looking," Denmark murmured softly.

With one last squeeze the older Nations let go of Iceland, who was left wiping his eyes and staring at the floor. Norway took his hand and the three of them continued on their way, soon coming to the meeting room where Sweden and England were talking quietly to each other.

England noticed them first and cleared his throat, all the while smiling at them uncomfortably. "Ahem, shall we, Denmark?" he asked, nodding towards the table where four stacks of papers were carefully prepared.

A nod was his only answer as the treaties were signed, some signatures steadier than others, Iceland looking on. England packed his copy of the Treaty methodically away – Iceland was under the impression he had received one island somewhere. Sweden then walked up to Norway, placing his hand on the shorter Nation's shoulder possessively. Norway shrugged it off in disgust and walked out of the room without a look at either Denmark or Iceland, as if the two of them were only air. Sweden frowned darkly and followed after his new vassal.

Iceland feared for Norway's future. Sweden had already been slighted so many times he was pound to snap soon.

He just hoped it wasn't at Norway.

"Let's go, Iceland," Denmark whispered softly. The Dependency nodded and let himself be led out of the room, with his overlord's heavy, trembling hand on his shoulder.

One of the things that had always bothered Finland on some level about wars, was the fact that they made taking care of normal, everyday things, especially hard. However in the past he had quite often been able to ignore this inconvenience mostly because he himself was out of the country as well. When he was fighting enemy soldiers he didn't have time to think about if there was a bad year or if one of the Province Governors was treating people unfair or if there was an unnaturally strong snowfall in the winter or a fire in one of the towns.

And that had been so much simpler even if it had left him feeling woozy, not entirely sure what was going on at home, just dead certain it was bad…

But now he just couldn't ignore things. This time he wasn't fighting somewhere in Europe for something big, larger than the simple lives of his people; this time he was at home, stuck in endless meetings, talking and listening, offering advice. In a way he felt good about it, not being forced to push his people's concerns aside in favour of a King's ambitions, but on the other hand it left him feeling unsettled, only hearing second-hand what was going on elsewhere.

Or actually it was more like third-hand because neither Russia or the Emperor had time for him at the moment and he had to rely on the slow trickle of letters from the family, friends and acquaintances of his more well-connected nobles. He himself received some missives from the German States he had warm relations with but on the whole Finland felt very uninformed about the state of affairs outside his own immediate sphere of influence.

It also meant that certain matters and propositions had to be postponed, because with the Emperor marching with his army there was no one for the Committee of Finnish Matters to present their matters to. Which left things to standstill and for a moment he even considered longingly the possibility of approaching the Russian ministries until he realised that that would be giving his special position within the Empire away. He had been given the special privilege to always have a Finn presenting his matters either directly to the Emperor or to his right hand man. Not only did it eliminate most possibilities for misunderstandings due to differences in culture, but it also rather effectively kept Russia's and his officials own interests firmly separate from Finland's matters.

Basically the only Russian humans who had direct power over him were the Governor General and the Emperor. And even the Governor General could be Finnish as Sprengtporten's – who he still had trouble pinning down as a person because of all the conflicting opinions surrounding him – and Armfelt's appointments had proved.

Finland enjoyed Armfelt's company – the old General had chosen to be Finnish and had left behind his career and past in Sweden in favour of him – and had spent long hours talking with the man whenever he was given the chance. And when Armfelt spent time in St. Petersburg under the Emperor's favour, they wrote long letters, discussing both Finnish and international matters.

Finland imagined that this was what a close relationship with a Nation's leader felt like.

Of course he had had his moments with Sweden's Kings in the past; after his unlawful war and Finland's own quiet rebellion, he had learned to truly like Gustav III who had done many things to better the lives of the farmers before he was murdered. Gustav II Adolf had actually chosen to ride beside him to some battles, leaving Sweden to his own devices. And Prince Johan, he had been special even before he became a King, but parts of Finland's recollections of the man would always be shadowed by the sadness that followed. He hadn't been particularly fond nor had he had much contact with Johan's father, Gustav Vasa, but he had had such a large impact on how things worked that Finland couldn't help but respect him.

If he had to compare, he would say that the closest he had ever come to what he shared with Armfelt, had been with Pietari Brahe. But even that had been marred by the Thirty Year's War and he had never had the chance to enjoy a true understanding with the man.

With Armfelt he had that and while the man felt that his farmers were stupid – as most nobles felt and Finland had long ago learnt that getting frustrated about it didn't help anyone and was an altogether useless endeavour – and sometimes the way he treated and spoke of Finland left him wondering where Armfelt had come by such thoughts, he still cared for the man. So when the news of his impending death reached the Nation, he didn't know how to react. The news added on top of already heavy workload and frustration of not knowing what was going on had him leaving Turku in order to just not think for a while and hopefully enjoy the quiet. He had just wanted to forget all of his worries for a while.

Warm air rose in a rush and Finland felt a shiver of pleasure wrack his body as the heat enveloped him in the dark room. The scoop fell into the wooden water bucket with a dull thunk and a splash as he let himself relax against the wall, staring sightlessly up at the dark ceiling, feeling beads of sweat trickling down his chest. A slight smile curled across his lips as he stretched his neck languidly, his eyes falling closed. The soft, smoky and woodsy smell lingered in the room, enchanted by the heat and moisture. The sauna was dark and quiet, its only light coming through a tiny window. He could just barely make out the sound of birds outside.

One of the reasons he loved the countryside was that it gave him a proper chance to enjoy sauna. After a few too many unlucky fires in the past his people had felt it wiser to not have saunas in the towns, forcing him to have his own private hideaway he could travel to far too rarely. How was one supposed to be properly clean if they weren't given a chance to bath regularly?

He let out a sigh of pleasure, picking up the tightly tied bunch of birch branches, their green leaves shining in the darkness as he slammed it to the back of his shoulder, repeatedly. He switched hands and ignored the stray leaves sticking to his wet skin. A stray thought of a continuous argument between his eastern and western siblings about proper sauna terminology had him snickering softly as he but the branches aside, reaching again for the scoop and throwing more water on the kiuas.

Another wave of heat rose up, softer than the last and Finland knew it was time to start the actual bathing process. He rose slowly and clambered down from the laude, stretching as his bare feet touched the wooden floor. He reached for the washing bucket, only to be interrupted by a knock on the door. He blinked in confusion before pursing his lips in annoyance. For a fraction of a second he considered answering the door naked for revenge before discarding the idea.

"Just a moment!" he called and reached for the flax towel and wrapping it around his waist. His clothes were on the bench outside so that was the best he could do under the circumstances.

Not that he would have dressed anyway; the clothes would have chafed and felt extremely unpleasant on his wet skin. And he really didn't want a repeat of the time he had done it and been finding leaves and rash on his person for months on end.

He pushed the door open and stepped out, accompanied by a cloud of steam, ignoring the choking sound to his left. He blinked his eyes for a moment to get used to the light and turned to face his visitor. Estonia had placed a hand over his eyes, his cheeks flushed beneath it.

"Some decency, if you please!" his voice was cross despite his embarrassment and Finland only snorted.

"Yes, yes, I'm an indecent heathen, I've heard it all already," he said dismissively and reached for the bench, taking up a fresh towel and drying his hair. He ignored Estonia's annoyed mutterings and draped the towel over his shoulders, hiding his scarred body from view and took a seat on the bench, rolling his eyes in amusement. "You can turn around, I'm decent enough."

Estonia lowered his hand and glared at his northern neighbour darkly but didn't comment on his friend's lack of clothes as he gingerly sat down on the bench as well. "A bit carefree of you, just lazing around like this," he offered dryly.

Finland gave a careless shrug, leaning back against the rough log wall, gazing towards the lake only ten metres away. He wasn't carefree, he was here because he had too many worries. "Hardly, I just needed to get away from the politics for a while. You should know by now I get cranky without at least some peace and quiet. And really, what did you expect coming to knock on my sauna door?"

Estonia flushed a bit. "I didn't think and that was the problem, I believe," he stated sourly. "And I certainly didn't expect you to open the door naked."

Finland turned to the other Nation, his eyebrows raising to his hairline. "With my clothes outside? You're lucky I had the towel."

Estonia huffed and abandoned the line of conversation as useless, well-aware that Finland could be totally unreasonable about saunas. "Anyway, have you heard about the Congress?"

"The Congress of Vienna, you mean?"

Of course he had heard of it, what sort of Nation would he be if he hadn't heard of it? Representatives from all the great Nations would be gathering there soon, to decide the future of Europe now, after France and Napoleon had torn it apart. The map of Europe would be redrawn and there would be big changes if the things he had heard of the Treaty of Paris were any indication. The German Nations were restless, now that there was an even bigger power vacuum than before with Holy Roman Empire gone. The Confederation of Rhine had been a mere mockery in the first place, not having even had a personification, and wouldn't stand, not without the support of the German Nations. It would be disbanded and maybe, something new would rise in its place.

But that mattered very little to Finland. Of the Germans he truly knew only a few of them, such as Pomerania, Brandenburg and Saxony and the Kingdom of Prussia, who he had fought both with and against in the past.

Estonia nodded, leaning forward and lowering his voice, as if he was telling a great big secret. "Yeah, that one. There have been… talks that the personifications whose lives were greatly affected by the wars, are to be invited as well."

Finland's eyes widened and he found himself dropping his own voice as well. "Are you sure?"

"One can never be sure of anything, Soome," Estonia admonished him softly, before his smile turned into a smirk. "… except this time."

And he pulled a cream coloured envelope from his pocket, presenting it to Finland. "I was in St. Petersburg for business and Mr. Russia asked me to swing by on my way home and give you this."

"Kiitos, Viro," he said taking the letter excitedly. His hands were luckily dry enough from sitting around outside as he opened the letter, his violet eyes scanning over the text.

Дорогой Финляндия,

As you're without a doubt aware, the Nations of Europe and their leaders have been called to Vienna to discuss the future of our world. The wars that have lasted for almost two decades have left us and our brethren in disarray as the world and circumstances changed around them. I and Alexander will be setting out for Vienna soon and, as you're one of the Nations that has been touched by the wars, we wish for you join us.

It's a mere formality, to finally note you down as one of my vassals in the eyes of the rest of the world. We'll be redrawing the map of Europe. Please come to St. Petersburg by the end of August so that we may start our journey.

Yours Sincerely,

Russia

"Well I'll be damned," Finland said with a grin. "Looks like I'm going to Vienna."

But before he went to St. Petersburg, he had another stop to make in a nearby town of Tsarskoje Selo. He remembered visiting it when it had still been called Saari, when it still belonged to Swedish Empire in late 17th century and had just been a little village with a Lutheran parish, like so many others on Ingria's lands.

He tried not to think of her; he and Sweden hadn't treated her all that well. And from his own experiences with Russia before and after the Treaty of Nystad, he had a feeling she had not fared very well.

He made sure to round St. Petersburg from afar on his way to south, not wishing to be stopped on his journey. While he wasn't outright forbidden from wandering, he knew that if an order came in for him to go directly to the capital, he would have to do so.

And he wished to see Armfelt before the man passed away.

He rode slowly into the lush gardens of Armfelt's summer villa that stood tall but very modest compared to the likes of Catherine Palace nearby. It was a stone villa with only two floors and relatively few white decorations on the corners and surrounding the doors and windows. The sand crunched under Lempi's hooves as he came to a stop before the short stone stairs leading up the double doors.

A stable boy appeared from the side of the house, a smear of dirt obscuring most of his left cheek. As Finland handed over the reins he tapped his own cheek meaningfully and chuckled as the boy blushed, seemingly mortified.

The Nation climbed the short stairs and knocked on the door, which was soon pulled open by a modestly dressed man, who was already opening his mouth to apparently turn Finland away. But his hand was up before the man could say anything.

"Jag var inbjöd."

He hoped the man knew at least Swedish as he wasn't willing to trust his meagre Russian skills to try to explain. To his relief the servant nodded and stepped aside, pulling the door open wider.

He lowered his head respectfully to the servant who then led him quickly to the bedroom. He was left to stand, alone, beside the bed where his good friend and a great leader laid, his breaths raspy and weak. Finland slowly pulled up one of the spindly-legged chairs that had been left next to bed and had clearly seen frequent use lately.

The room was silent as the man slept, with his Nation sitting quietly beside him, content to wait. His mind was blank as he stared at the floral wallpaper, tracing the faded patterns with his eyes without actually seeing them. It just wasn't fair, but he had always known that, nothing in this world was actually fair. Armfelt wasn't even that old and already his time had come.

The voice that spoke up from the bed was weak and raspy. "You… came to see me…" Armfelt's eyes were barely open as he gazed up at his Nation.

"Shhhh," Finland said softly, "Save your strength."

Armfelt gave a huff, which turned into a painful cough that had Finland hurrying to pour water to a glass on the nightstand and help him drink. But despite his attempts to push the discussion into some far off future, the ailing man was determined to say his piece. "It would be… no use at this point, Finland. I'm going to… go nonetheless."

"Then do it for me," Finland countered. "Give me just one more moment in the company of a great person like you."

Armfelt shook his head. "There… have been men greater than me… in the past… and there will be many… in the future as well…"

Finland turned his gaze away, unwilling to concede the mortal's point. 'Is this what having a true leader feels like?' he wondered. 'This uncertainty and even fear at their inevitable passing?'

"Maybe so," he answered finally, his voice quiet. "But you…" intense violet eyes met hazy blue, "… you've been so intent from the beginning for me to be me and no one else… For my people to be mine, unavoidably and totally, for all of eternity… But I just can't help but doubt, what if someday…?"

Armfelt gave a weak cough. "That does not… matter. Our – the people's – duty… is to live and die Finnish… not Swedish or Russian, because… our Finnishness is our greatest… honour," his voice was growing weaker.

Finland felt something constricting his throat and tears stinging his eyes as he reached to hold tightly onto the dying man's hand. He could feel it trembling weakly between his own strong and calloused palms, appearing young and unblemished wrapped around Armfelt's frail, old fingers.

"Kiitos, kiitos paljon," he whispered softly as Armfelt's rasping breaths finally ceased and his heart stopped beating. The Nation's gaze softened as he leant closer to the man, bestowing a gentle kiss on his already cooling forehead as he whispered: "Lepää rauhassa."

Prussia's gaze flickered over the still form lying on the bed, faint and frail, almost invisible in its paleness. The small chest barely moved as it slowly rose and fell in time with the weak lungs expanding and emptying. Stark bandages were wrapped tightly around the child's chest, peeking out from the neckline of an overly large shirt. This time they were not stained red, as they had been so many times in the past. A weak cough broke the silence in the room and Prussia leant forward, pouring a cup of water and gently reaching for the child on the bed.

None of his rivals – or friends or acquaintances or even leaders – would have believed their eyes as the powerful Kingdom gently tended to the small boy. He slid his arm beneath the narrow shoulders, raising the child up gently, just enough for him to dribble some of the water through parted lips.

"Hard to believe you could act like that, Preußen," came a soft observation from behind his back.

Prussia stiffened in surprise at the voice before relaxing, and snorted softly, setting the boy back down gently before turning to face one of those aforementioned rivals. "No one asked you, Österreich," he scoffed, standing up and shooting one last fleeting look at the boy. "Let's get out of here."

Austria still gazed at the sick child, eyes intense and sad as Prussia stepped out of the room, their shoulders barely brushing in the tight doorway. "Is he really…?"

"Yeah, he is," Prussia answered snidely, "Hoping for absolution from your sins for giving the last blow?"

Austria flinched and glared at the pale man beside him. "Didn't you give up God ages ago when you allowed all sorts of heretics in your lands?" he hissed.

Prussia wasn't moved. "Just because my people can choose what they believe in doesn't mean I've given up my personal faith. I'm just as devoutly Christian as in the Middle Ages–"

"Except you gave up the Roman Catholic faith in exchange of Protestantism," Austria's tone was biting but Prussia didn't expect anything less. The two of them tended to be more honest when they were sniping at each other anyway.

"I do what's best for my people," Prussia answered, starting to move down the hallway again. "But that's beside the point. Did you read my letter?"

Austria gave a stiff nod and picked up his steps so that he could be abreast with his rival. Austria wasn't a follower and he certainly wouldn't follow Prussia anywhere. "I did and I agree. We'll continue as we planned in the Treaty of Paris. The German States cannot continue like this, they need to be united or they'll be torn apart in the next war, again."

And there would be a next war. There always was and they were both old enough to know it.

"But are you sure he can really do it?"

Prussia nodded. "Ja, if he gets the help and support he needs," he glared darkly at Austria. "You won't be leeching off of him like before."

The brunet Nation flushed with indignation. "How dare you? I was simply –!"

"Save your excuses, you still all but killed him eight years ago," Prussia snapped. "This time, we'll make it work. This time, the German States will be united even if I have to die to pull it off."

Hah, as if. He was going to rule the German States.

In the room they had left behind, the small form turned weakly to his side. Blue eyes, hazy with sleep and pain, opened slowly and stared expressionlessly out of the bright window.

"Bruder…?"

A/N:
Chapter title: a line from Päivän laulu (Fin. The Day's song) words by the poet Eino Leino, composition by Erkki Melartin.
Danmörk (Ice.): Denmark
Island (Dan.): Iceland
Noregur (Ice.): Norway
Draugur (Ice.): a ghost from Norse mythology. Short explanation is they bring bad luck and pestilence.
Hví? (Ice.): Why?
Hvem er du, lille venn? (Nor.): Who are you, little one?
Treaty of Kiel was signed on January 14 1814, seceding Kingdom of Norway under Swedish control; the ex-Norwegian dependencies that were left with Denmark were Iceland, Greenland and the Faroe Islands.
The birch branches: vihta vs vasta argument is as old as time itself (not really); in Savo, Karjala and eastern parts of Pohjanmaa and Häme it's vasta, elsewhere it's vihta.
Laude (plural lauteet) are the shelf-like benches you sit on.
Kiuas is the so-called "sauna stove."
Savusauna (lit. smoke sauna) was the most common type of sauna till 1950s. I've never been to one so my description might not be entirely accurate.
Дорогой Финляндия (Rus.): Dear Finland.
'Finnishness being our greatest honour' is an actual quote from Armfelt, although they are not his last words as far as I'm aware.
Jag var inbjöd (Swe.): I was called/summoned.
Kiitos, kiitos paljon. Lepää rauhassa. (Fin.): Thank you, thank you so much. Rest in peace.

Gustaf Mauritz Armfelt passed away because of Tuberculosis on August 19 1814.
Österreich (Ger.): Austria (lit. East Realm)
Bruder (Ger.): Brother