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It was at the end of the 16th century, when Sweden confronted him, saying he was under his house now. The tall figure was intimidating and stoic. Estonia was told he was supposed to work a lot so his country could strive. The younger thought bitterly of the irony in such a statement. Weakened by the constant conflict between multiple parties, and being under dual supervision a lot, he had really no other choice, even if his blood was boiling.
During the first decades, he actually missed Denmark when he was absent, despite feeling betrayed all the same. The Dane had informed after his latest visit, that he will have to give the island up entirely soon, it was hurtful especially after all the time he had tried to explain he had come here initially for Estonia’s sake. It now sounded like past lies just to get his lands. Eduard felt rebellious akin to a teenager, even if his looks were growing out of the part. Eduard, subdued but holding his head high for his folk, years later was invited to Sweden’s quarters. For the first time in a long while, Estonia put on some of his representative clothes.
„Estland,“ the nation said, catching the younger off-guard immediately. Usually he never referred to Eduard’s land name. Not by Eesti, Viro, Estland, or any other variations of it that would suggest he acknowledged him as another landmass deity. He was motioned to sit down in the soon to be refurbished Town Hall office.
„From now on, in the evenings you’ll be under my tutelage,“ the Swede informed, his words clipped. Estonia was confused, but did not say anything yet. Trust was something he didn’t hand out easily nowadays.
„I will be opening schools for you, you need to learn how to properly read,“ Sweden continued, expecting questions.
„In Swedish?“ Estonia asked, voice controlled. He knew better than to be naive. Berwald actually let a small smile grace his lips. The Estonian hadn’t seen such a thing before.
„In Estonian. Your language should have a proper written form.“
Eduard’s eyes widened like saucers. It took him a moment to register and then quell it, the other may be lying. He was too careful to feel happy just yet. Estonia wanted his language acknowledged, he wanted his people to read, but after all this it felt like a faux silver platter.
„I expect you here by sundown,“ Berwald said and Eduard nodded, excused for now. Given it was autumn, it would only be a few hours until sunset. He had not much to do aside from taking a proper stroll through his capital. He was let through the gates to Toompea, the upper town. He knew he had an advantage over a standard Estonian as a personification, but out of empathy he rarely indulged in those luxuries. When they worked, he worked. Toompea was certainly a luxury his people had been enstranged from.
The walk to the wall, next to the fortress was bittersweet at best. He had not been there for ages. The streets leading up to it went the same way they had centuries ago, even if the wooden buildings were finer and larger by now. He remembered when he was first defeated by Denmark, afraid that he would disappear and to his very surprise, the other changed his demeanour to profusely comfort him. Hugging him and saying that no such thing like dissapearing would happen and that he knows from experience. Eduard was younger then, new compared to the others he heard of. Eduard was named differently then as well. Estonia went on bouts of what Denmark referred to as teenage rebellion, those mixed with times he trusted the other more. The Dane sympathized with him over the dissonances he had, explained to him a lot of things what came with being a personification, how the people are his driving force by nature. If they rebelled, he rebelled. If they changed, he changed. It was chaotic, but at calmer times, he actually liked who Denmark was.
And then he had let Estonia get caught up in the struggle he swore to prevent, pushed and pulled until Sweden just seized him to himself. Eduard felt that’s about the time he really grew up. Now he was standing there, looking down to the newly done moat and extra fortifications. Looking at the fast development of reinforcements, it seemed bitterly to the Estonian that Sweden was more serious in keeping the area stable than Denmark ever was.
„One day, perhaps,“ Eduard thought out loud with a sigh. One day his people wouldn’t be slaves by the majority, and he would have full autonomy again. Perhaps, if Sweden was telling the truth, this would be the beginning of the gruelling journey ahead. He had seen the others by now, he knew this current state would not be the way the world stayed. They were all hungry, especially the older ones.
He stayed and watched the sun go down, hearing the church bells chime every full hour. It was a sound he had gotten used to. Making his way back, Eduard was surprised to discover Sweden waiting for him in front of the town hall. He told Eduard they were going to the church quarters near the square. A big part of Eduard was disgruntled at the notion, but he understood it wasn’t up for debate.
When they sat down in what seemed to be a small library, he waited quietly. The room was in dark tones, illuminated only lightly from the windows and from the few scarce candles. Berwald was seated next to him, seemingly thinking over how to proceed. The silence was tense annd stretched for more than a few minutes.
„Even though you will learn to read, I’m afraid it will take a bit more preparation to have it widespread among your people.“
Eduard simply nodded, it made sense. So far.
„I will tutor you for the next three months before I must leave for other duties. And firstly, I must ask you to translate a few things verbally,“ Sweden said, opening up a book of some sort. He was picking something out. Eduard understood German when he heard it, given it has been the common trading language for a few centuries.
From that point on, their meetings were set up as following: Berwald read some sentences in accented German, Eduard translated them to Estonian as best as he knew. Berwald wrote them up in how he heard, trying to make sense of the writing style. Eduard in the meanwhile got a hang of the letters in German at least. After three months, Sweden went as promised and to Eduard’s delight, there were debates among scholars about how the language should be written. The following decades were internally conflicting to Estonia. The work got more strict, yet schools were opened and church meetings were held in Estonian.
Berwald never spoke to him about the nature of personifications like Denmark had. But he did ask Eduard’s stance about different craftsmen that had come to the capital, and talked about the intricate bastion systems in place. He offered a small smile when they managed to successfully translate a chapter of a book. Eduard started to feel more like a representative. There were some problems with Russia attempting to take some of his territories, but Sweden managed to set a treaty. Estonia had been wound up about it, wondering if it was some sort of curse that each time he gained some fundamental trust and working dynamic, another war threathened to strike.
Eduard had apologized profusely for hugging Berwald once the older brought the news of the treaty. The taller nation had just set a hand on his shoulder, a gesture Eduard knew meant he was speaking too much. Even with the newfound cooperation, Estonia had not abandoned his thoughts of autonomy. The hot blood in him had slowly simmered down, paving the way for analyzing his conditions and the context around it, weaknesses that could eventually be turned into strenghts. He didn’t believe for a second that Berwald was entirely blind to this. Yet he never addressed it.
Time with Sweden was all about practicality for Eduard. The taller nation encouraged his interests in academic fronts without question, and more than once did the Estonian feel, that it was the other’s silent way of showing sympathy and helping him prepare for a day where the world wouldn’t be as dependent of brute strenght as it was now. Eduard only ever saw hints of it in a few glances, but they made warmth settle within him. A sort of trust and understanding, never spoken nor openly acknowledged by either of them.
When the day came that Russia had gathered his forces once again, Estonia felt as if his heart was breaking. Right before Sweden was leaving for the last time, Eduard hugged him once again, tightly and for the first time felt those arms circle around him too. Deprived from any physical closeness for over a century, it was a sensory shock that caused his tears to spill, looking up wordlessly. He saw a small flicker of regret pass from the other’s face, from the otherwise blank facáde, and to Eduard’s surprise and partially horror, he realized the warm admiration he had felt for Sweden had been something more.
Separating from the other, he buried those thoughts and gave a nod of determination, to which he recieved one as well bidding goodbye. Too many words were a waste of energy Eduard had learned. As he turned around in a defiant step, ready to face the presently inevitable, he walked straight for it, conceeding the end of the private scholastic evenings, the wordless understanding and contentment separating them from their representative roles.
What was waiting for him, had no such separation. Who was waiting for him, rumour had it, he lacked sympathy, making no difference of a personification and a human. He was only his country. That was it. That meant no cooperation was possible on any level. Eduard had seen such before, storming over him in amidst of the struggles, but he had been warned, what was coming was apparently a whole another level.