#sunorweek2022

A familiar scene, one they have painted for centuries. While Sweden piles their plates with food, Norway lays the table and fills their glasses with wine. When their small family is together, they call for their sons to join them, one's voice a light melody that drifts up the staircase, the other's a low rumble that traverses the walls like a clap of thunder. After a few minutes, Sealand and Ladonia rush to join them, a whirlwind of excited chatter that doesn't subside until the end of the meal. The slang they use is obscure and modern; still their fathers listen and nod along, asking them questions here and there about the games they play or the cartoons they watch.

Tonight, the dining room is quiet. When it is only the two of them, there is no need to ask for the salt or inquire how their day has been, not when the quirk of an eyebrow or the ghost of a smile says it all. Yet, as he cuts his meat, Sweden mentions a new project he is working on: a small wood carving he hopes will soon join the others scattered throughout the house. And after a sip of his wine, Norway shares news of the garden: some of the courgettes are ready to be picked; does he fancy them stuffed tomorrow evening?

Sometimes, they even exchange tidings of friends they share or family they cherish. Finland has safely arrived in Hamburg for his music festival... Denmark has invited them over for cupcakes this weekend... Iceland has enrolled in a new course at university. This last piece of news, Norway elaborates on. They are brothers, after all. Thus, Sweden learns the nation he considers a son far more than a brother-in-law has decided to study geology again. Good. It has been about a hundred years since he last took that course; it will do him some good to fill in the gaps in his knowledge.

Such short exchanges can hardly be considered conversations, but there is no need for more. Not for two nations content to simply bask in the quiet comfort of another's company.

Once the meal is finished and the table cleared, the couple retire to the living room. Here, the silence is broken yet again - this time, by the blaring television. Norway reaches for his book while Sweden flicks through the channels, searching for something to watch, settling on some detective show he's caught snippets of here and there. Their knees touching, shoulders brushing, they lean into one another, sharing a moment even though their minds are far away.  

It is a tranquil moment. Blissful peace for a while, until Sweden's need for sleep becomes too great to ignore. His knees creak as he stands, and there is a twinge in his back as he bends over to kiss his husband goodnight. How long until his hair turns grey? He can only hope time will see Norway and him grow old together, so they can live out these days of idle nothingness until the very end of their existence.

But as he makes his way to their bedroom, he steers his thoughts back to the present. Best to cherish what he has now instead of thirsting for more. Although there are other ways he could live his life, this one has brought him the most happiness thus far. And so he succumbs to sleep with thoughts of Norway as he must be now, in their living room, reading his book, with no plans of joining his husband anytime soon.

The next time he wakes, it is to the sound of clothes being shed and the dizzying sensation of the mattress dipping as Norway settles down for the night. Still half-trapped in the thralls of sleep, Sweden blindly reaches an arm out, so he can pull his husband close. Soft hair tickles his neck as cold limbs curl around his own, seeking the warmth that radiates from his body.