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The ceremony had been perfect until then.
The weather was sunny and the sky had clouds, but they weren’t foreboding rain.
A soft breeze carried the scent of flowers through the air, gently rustling the decorations and Finland’s veil. Sealand had been jumping up and down excitedly all day, waiting for his big moment, occasionally tossing handfuls of flower petals far too early and getting shushed every five minutes by a nervous-looking Iceland.
Even the usually chaotic Nordics had, for once, managed to behave… at least for the first part of the ceremony.
That’s when the priest suddenly announced it:
“Now, we will hear Denmark say a couple of words to the grooms”
Everyone present looked at each other.
Some with confusion.
Some with horror.
Had they heard right?
That’s when they saw the tall man with the recognisable blond bed hair and giant grin jump up from his seat next to Norway, Iceland and the Baltics in the front.
“That would be me!”
Sweden looked down at his soon-to-be husband (or wife, as he called him). Finland noticed how his usually unreadable stoic face changed as his eyebrows ever so slightly furrowed.
Y’ didn’t t’ll m’ he’d speak…” His voice was low, but Finland could hear the deep unmistakable dread in it.
Finland innocently smiled back. “Well, he came to me some time ago pleading to speak and I thought it made sense since we’ve known him for so long. I wanted to keep it a surprise… I’m sure it won’t be that bad!” He whispered and squeezed Sweden’s arm reassuringly.
Sweden looked down at Finland beside him who’s eyes sparkled with anticipation. He could physically never be mad at Finland, especially not on their wedding day. He clenched his jaw and nodded.
“Mm, I’ll give h’m a chance’”
“Thank you Sve” Finland whispered and rested his head against his arm in relief, flustering Sweden as if they weren’t actively getting married to each other.
Meanwhile, Denmark looked behind and shot a big smile to Norway who sat with his arms crossed and a concerned look in his eyes. He was clearly not trusting him with the task.
“Are you sure about this Danmark?” Norway asked, his tone ice cold. Normally he wouldn’t say much before Denmark did anything, he would just scold him after, but this was no ordinary day.
“I have everything under control Norge! Don’t worry!” He whispered loudly and winked. That owed him an annoyed glare, which only made Denmark’s smile grow bigger and, annoyingly, softer.
“Don’t worry it’ll be great! See ya soon!”
Norway slowly shook his head in disbelief, trying to hide the very faint blush spreading on his face.
“Can’t believe they allowed him of all people to do this…” he mumbled, to Iceland who nervously squirmed in the chair next to him as they both watched the Dane confidently walk up to the podium.
“Did he even have a script?” Iceland whispered to Norway.
“No he didn’t little brother. This is bound to go wrong.”
Before Iceland could protest against the little brother comment, Denmark cleared his throat, catching their attention again.
He looked out over the audience of familiars, then focused all his attention back on Sweden in black and Finland in white. They both had each other’s national flower tucked into their suits, Finland’s arm locked firmly in Sweden’s.
They looked back at him expectantly.
He smiled widely to himself at how cute they looked together, took a deep breath and began to speak.
“Hello everyone! In case you don’t know me, my name is Denmark!”
Standing way too close to the microphone, his voice blasted through the entire crowd, forcing several guests to physically recoil and cover their ears.
Denmark didn’t seem to realise, and continued joyfully.
“As most of you know I am a good friend of the grooms here. Actually we have a very long history together! Back in the old days we would hang out all the time. It was so much fun! Sadly, as you know, all good things have to end and the two eventually ran away from me. Although it did make me pretty sad back them, I think it’s just proof that even then Sweden and Finland stuck together!“
Finland wouldn’t necessarily call that time with Denmark “fun”, but so far, the speech was… survivable. He smiled politely and looked up at Sweden, who still stared at Denmark like he was preparing to punch him.
“I must admit I was really surprised when Sweden proposed, I mean it was very brave, but so out of character for him… Although I was even more shocked that Finland actually said yes to marry HIM.”
The whole crowd laughed confusedly glancing at each other trying to figure out if it was a joke or not.
“Oh no… here we go..” Norway sighed, already rubbing his temples like he could feel a headache forming.
“Oh yeah! That reminds me!”
Denmark spun over to face Finland and Sweden. He could already tell Sweden was getting riled up.
“Finland I want to give you special thanks. You are really taking one for the team today by marrying Sweden, especially since he is soooo.. uhmmm… well…”
Denmark tapped his chin dramatically.
“Hmmmm.. Let’s just say that if I had to compare him to something it would be my beloved author, Hans Christian Andersen’s story of “The Ugly Duckling”, except he didn’t get prettier”
The crowd gasped in collective, horrified silence. Everyone slowly turned their eyes on the grooms. Finland turned pale as a ghost, staring straight ahead as if that might somehow undo what had just been said. He didn’t even want to look up and see Sweden’s reaction.
“He did not just say that…” Norway whispered, furiously burying his head in his hands, as if he was either trying to disappear or actively restraining himself from not walking up and strangling Denmark with his own tie. It was most likely a mix of both.
Iceland sat beside him, completely frozen, mouth slightly open.
Even Sealand had stopped kicking his legs, sensing something was very wrong. He turned around in his seat and looked to see the many wide eyed faces behind him.
“Psssst! I’m gonna go up to mum and dad, Ice!”
Iceland shot Sealand a nervous glance, but didn’t say anything and nodded slightly. Maybe he was hoping that the action would break the weird atmosphere.
At Iceland’s approval Sealand ran up to his parents at the podium and took Finland’s hand.
Finland flinched slightly at the sudden contact, but immediately softened when he saw who it was. He gently squeezed Sealand’s hand, as if grounding himself.
“Mummy? What is uncle talking about?”
Finland froze for half a second, his smile twitching as he desperately searched for an answer that would not emotionally scar a child.
“…He’s… telling jokes, rakas” he finally said softly.
Sealand tilted his head, looking back at Denmark, then up at Sweden and out at the silent and horrified crowd.
“…They’re not very good then. Nobody’s laughing”
Finland let out a small, nervous laugh.
“No… no, they’re not.”
Denmark didn’t notice what he was doing, or maybe he just didn’t care. Either way, he continued the suffering that was his speech.
“Seriously, I sometimes felt so bad for him that I considered whether or not I should marry him myself out of pity. Of course I didn’t do it because what kind of Dane would I be if I married a Swede?!”
A few very nervous chuckles escaped the crowd.
“Plus, it didn’t help that he smells like surströmning and lives in an IKEA-”
“Okay, that’s it” Norway hissed through clenched teeth as he abruptly stood up, grabbing Denmark by the collar and dragging him away from the microphone mid-sentence.
Loud gasps escaped from the crowd, most likely from the Baltics who were not used to seeing the Nordics’ basic interactions.
“Wait Norge! I’m not done!” Denmark croaked resisting his absolute best against Norway’s iron grip, which was flailing his arms wildly around.
“Oh yes you are! What on earth do you think you are doing!? You’re ruining their wedding!” Norway snapped, lowering his voice, but not nearly enough.
The crowd squirmed uncomfortably.
Denmark placed a hand over Norway’s, stopping him. For once he had a serious expression.
“Please… stol på mig.”
Norway hesitated and loosened his grip slightly.
“Alright, but I swear Danmark I will curse you if you shame Sverige anymore”.
Denmark gave him that familiar stupid, lovable grin.
“Don’t worry skat. I’ll take it seriously”
Norway instantly turned his face away from him and took a step back when he called him “skat”, Denmark knowing all too well he would react this way when people were looking at him.
Despite the embarrassment he was trying to hide, Norway gave Denmark one last deadly glare that would have paralysed anyone else and gave Sweden and Finland an apologetic look when he passed them.
He rapidly walked down from the white stage, his long blond bangs covering his increasingly pink face from the crowd. He sat down next to his little brother who confusedly looked between him and Denmark who was smiling warm heartedly at them as he walked up to the microphone again.
Denmark admired his work for a moment, looking out on the crowd. Everyone was staring at back at him, their expressions saying everything. He smiled. He sure had scared them.
Now was the perfect time to reveal it.
Denmark took a deep breath and loudly yelled:
“AHHH DET BARE GAS!”
“…huh?” Finland whispered, still too stunned to properly react, his brain clearly lagging behind reality.
“Seriously you should have seen your faces!”
Denmark burst out laughing. It was loud, uncontrollable, completely unbothered as always.
“Jeg pisser bare på jer! Bare rolig!”
It took a second.
Then another.
Slowly, the laughter spread, until most of the crowd was laughing along.
“But on a serious note…” Denmark said, out of breath from laughter, suddenly speaking with a much more serious tone. “Sverige.. Finland… I am truly happy for you two. You are my family. You are wonderful people, and you have a wonderful kid… even if he runs like a tiny hurricane and throws flower petals like weapons.”
Sealand beamed proudly.
Denmark flashed a silly expression to him, which made him giggle, and continued.
“And… I mean it. You two…” He gestured vaguely, struggling for once to find the right words. “You make sense. In a weird, slightly terrifying way.”
By each word his accent got thicker and his voice more uneven.
“For helvede, jeg bliver sgu lidt rørt heroppe” he said, his voice quivering as he wiped his face with the back of his hand.
“You two have been through a lot… both with me… because of me… and despite that, you still ended up here. Together.”
Denmark sniffed and ran his fingers through his messy hair.
“That’s… pretty fucking amazing if you ask me. So I guess what I’m trying to say is: Sverige, Finland…Hjertelig tillykke. I mean it. You two seriously deserve each other more than anyone”.
With these words Denmark smiled, made a small bow and walked down from the podium while the guests clapped.
Passing Sweden, Finland and Sealand he gave them a genuine, almost nervous smile. His eyes were still glinting slightly with tears.
Sealand happily waved at Denmark and tugged Finland’s arm excitedly.
“Mum! Dad! Wasn’t that great?! Uncle Denmark cussed in front of everyone!”
“Don’t get any good ideas now, rakas” Finland whispered, his voice quivering slightly as he stroked sealand’s hair gently and looked up at his about-to-be husband for agreement. He had completely forgotten the fear he’d had about Sweden’s reaction to the speech.
Sealand pouted, but then the priest cleared his throat.
“Thank you for that uhh.. emotional speech Mister Denmark.. we will now continue”
A few scattered coughs and suppressed laughs escaped from the crowd as everyone tried to fully regain composure (and failed). Even the priest adjusted his notes like he needed a moment to recover.
Sweden didn’t say anything, but Finland noticed how his eyebrows relaxed ever so slightly as he placed his free hand on their son’s shoulder, gently pulling him a little closer.
Finland let out a quiet breath of relief, leaning just a fraction closer to Sweden.
…
Denmark’s last words had somehow saved his whole speech (and, arguably, the wedding).
The vows were exchanged, and whatever chaos had come beforehand seemed to settle into something warm and sincere again.
And when Sweden and Finland finally kissed the entire front row shot to their feet.
Cheers, whistles, and loud clapping erupted.
Sealand yelled something incomprehensible but enthusiastic, Iceland actually smiled, and even Norway allowed himself a small, approving nod.
Denmark, of course, was the one who cheered the loudest.
…
-Afterwards-
The air was full of music, laughter, clinking glasses, and the low hum of conversations overlapping. It was a good atmosphere, warm and celebratory.
Sealand had already dragged Iceland into some kind of chaotic dance on the dancing floor, while the Baltics hovered nearby, congratulating and chatting with Finland.
Denmark and Norway were standing for themselves off to the side. Denmark, who had already drunken quite a bit, was waving his arms around, trying to start a conversation with Norway who just stared at him with a dull expression, looking far too composed for someone who had nearly committed a crime earlier. He was definitely still upset about it.
Occasionally someone would come over and slap Denmark on the back praising him for his “attention grabbing” speech.
“Haha, everyone seem to really have liked my speech!”, Denmark laughed as he waved goodbye to a woman who had just walked up and complimented it (or maybe she was just trying to compliment him, either way Norway watched her with an ice cold glance).
“I hope Sverige knows I was just joking thought!” Denmark said, lowering his arm, his voice growing a little concerned.
“Hm” Norway replied, crossing his arms. His gaze wandered from the annoyingly captivating Dane to something or someone behind him.
“Speaking of the Devil.. You might want to see who is behind you”, Norway said, his voice as nonchalant as ever.
Denmark didn’t need to. After knowing each other for over 1000 years and fighting 30-something wars against one another, he could tell who it was without needing to turn around.
His aura was that unmistakable.
Sweden walked up to him. His blue eyes were as unreadable as always, and completely set on him.
Denmark gulped.
“I’m gonna leave you two to figure this out for yourselves” Norway said, as he hurriedly walked away, leaving Denmark to fight for himself.
“Wait! Norge!” Denmark yelled desperately to no avail. Norway had already disappeared among all the guests.
“Shit” Denmark thought as he slowly turned back to face Sweden, who was staring down at him hard, towering as always.
Maybe the playful taunts had been a little bit over the top.
Maybe Sweden had just composed himself during the ceremony and was gonna give him hell now.
For a moment, he said nothing.
“Hey, before you do anything you know I’m just playing,” Denmark said, throwing his hands up defensively.
Sweden snorted and narrowed his eyes as he studied the Dane.
For a moment Denmark thought he was gonna punch him in the face, just like the good old days.
He breathed in, preparing himself for the blow, but instead Sweden lowered his gaze down and began speaking, his voice even more hesitant than usual.
“It w’s good…”
“Huh?”
“Th’ speech”
Denmark blinked, completely caught off guard.
“Finl’nd liked ‘t too… th’ last part ‘tleast…”
“I.. I’m glad to hear that” Denmark said.
Relief and a weird sense of honour showered over him. It was weird to get compliments from Sweden, especially after he had openly bashed on him at his wedding.
“Although…” Sweden added slowly, catching Denmark’s attention again.
“Y’r insults w’re rather dry.”
There was the faintest hint of something on Sweden’s face as he said it. Something extremely close to a playful smile.
Denmark froze.
“…Did you just…”
He stared at Sweden in disbelief like he had just witnessed a historical event.
“…You made a joke.”
Silence.
Then Denmark burst out laughing, slapping Sweden on the back.
“Oh really?!”
Denmark leaned in slightly, grinning.
“Alright Mister ‘Will Not Get Tied Up And Blasted With Cinnamon’, let’s find your wife! I wanna see you two have your first dance now! I know ya been waiting for that in a long time Sve! You’ve been taking dancing lessons and everything, or so I’ve heard”. Denmark smirked, and poked him with his elbow.
Sweden blushed, but didn’t protest or deny it. He didn’t even say anything to Denmark’s friendly hand on his shoulder as they began walking through the many attendants, which was something they never did.
“I should just warn you though, I might also hit a couple of moves on the dance floor after”
Sweden exhaled quietly.
“Mm.”
“Wait, was that an agreement?!”
“M’ gonna beat you anyways”
Denmark let out a loud laugh in astonishment.
“A Denmark vs Sweden dance battle? Oh, I’m so in!”
Two jokes in one night? Finland was having a good effect on him!
…
“Yo Finny! My man!”
Finland had just been having a conversation with the Baltics, but turned around when he heard the familiar loud voice calling his name.He watched his husband and Denmark approach, a soft smile forming on his face.
Denmark could feel the nerves radiating off of Sweden, despite his stoic demeanour. He found it kind of funny, how Sweden still acted so nervous and fidgety around Finland after everything.
But he didn’t want to point it out. He had already teased him far enough for one day.
Right now Sweden needed encouragement, and as the self-proclaimed leader of the Nordics, (and, admittedly,his friend), it was Denmark’s duty to help him.
“Hey, there’s nothing to be worried about!”
“Mm…” Sweden mumbled, clearly not convinced by him.
“Come on you can do this! All you have to do is ask him to dance! You guys are MARRIED now!”, the Dane whispered loudly and encouragingly.
“He’s right there looking at you! Go for it Sverige!”
He playfully pushed Sweden towards his “wife” with a big grin.
Finland chuckled softly, not entirely sure what they had been plotting.
Sweden shot Denmark a glare that would have ended most people on the spot.
Denmark just beamed and gave him two enthusiastic thumbs up as he backed away.
Sweden turned his attention back on Finland who was looking at him with shimmering eyes.
“You survived talking to him,” he teased gently when Denmark had fully vanished.
“It wasn’t that b’d”
Finland chuckled.
His blond hair was slightly messy and his cheeks pink from the long, eventful day.
Sweden lost all his words and just stared at him.
He was gorgeous. Always had been. Since the first day they had met.
He finally cleared his throat.
It was now or never.
“Do you… wanna d’nce?”
Finland looked up at him, slightly surprised. Then he giggled.
“Of course!”
Sweden held out his hand, guiding Finland out to the dance floor.
The music suddenly shifted from being loud and energetic to a softer, slower piece.
Everyone on the dance floor quickly moved out to the side, understanding what was about to happen and formed a circle around them.
Sweden placed a hand at Finland’s waist, the other holding his.
He tried to remember how to dance, but he had suddenly completely forgotten.
Finland smiled up at him, guiding him gently.
At first the dance was rather stiff, as they both tried to find a rhythm to the music, but it gradually turned smoother.
Not perfect, but it was close enough.
Close enough that it didn’t matter.
Everything else faded away, and it was just the two of them, looking deep into each other’s eyes, ice blue meeting dark brown.
Suddenly tears welled up in Sweden’s eyes.
It startled Finland.
“You’re so b’tiful, wife”
Finland laughed lightly as tears began rolling down his cheeks as well.
“So are you… husband”
He lovingly rested his head on Sweden as they slowly swayed together.
…
The Nordics stood close by, watching in unusual, shared silence. Sealand, however, was bouncing on his toes between Iceland and Estonia, barely containing his excitement as he pointed at the dance floor every few seconds.
“Look! Look! That’s my parents!” he whispered loudly.
Iceland placed a hand on his shoulder, smiling faintly. “Yeah… we can see.”
Denmark gave the grooms a small nod of approval, blinking a couple of times as if trying very hard not to cry again.
“…Not bad, Sverige,” he muttered under his breath.
He glanced sideways at Norway, standing right beside him.
Norway’s gaze was fixed on the couple, his expression softer than usual. He was calm, thoughtful, and almost distant in a quiet way.
A wave of guilt washed over Denmark.
Sweden and Finland were okay with what he said, but he didn’t know about Norway.
He had scared him. Embarrassed him.
That wasn’t okay, at least not without warning. He should had informed him.
Denmark wasn’t very good at apologising. Never had been.
He sighed.
He knew he had to say something.
“Hey Nor.. about earlier… I should have told you about my plan beforehand” he leaned in and whispered.
Norway didn’t say anything.
This was gonna be hard.
“Nor, what I’m trying to say is… I’m… I’m…”
Denmark rubbed the back of his neck nervously as he tried to explain himself, but the words refused to come out properly.
“I-“
Norway, still looking at Sweden and Finland dancing, suddenly reached out and took Denmark’s hand. It surprised Denmark a little. It was unusual for Norway to reach out for him like this, especially with so many people around.
“Shhh, you are being too noisy. Watch them dance now”.
There was a faint smile on his lips and his half lidded eyes glinted gently.
He didn’t need to say more. Denmark knew he was forgiven.
Denmark smiled big and affectionately as he gently squeezed Norway’s hand, brushing his thumb over his knuckles.
Together they watched their friends dance happily with each other, having the time of their lives.
The ceremony might not have turned out like planned. Denmark’s speech had nearly ended in disaster.
The wedding had been chaotic, loud, and slightly inappropriate…
…and absolutely perfect in its own way.