A/N: Hello, everyone! This is number 5 in the "The Most Awesome Matchmaking Trio Ever" Series ;D Couples for this story will include... DenmarkxNorway as our main victims. Established (you know the drill) SpainxRomano, GermanyxItaly, USxUK, and PrussiaxCanada. And possibly also background SwedenxFinland as well. I would highly recommend reading the other stories in this series first. :) Anyway, so now that that's out of the way, let's begin...

Galehus

Part 1

Something was up.

Hungary frowned slightly as she stared across the table at where Prussia was seated beside Canada. The usually easily-overlooked country was oddly visible today—most likely due to the fact that the obnoxious albino nation hadn't stopped whispering to him since they'd sat down. Right now, the blond was a shade of red that would have put Spain's tomatoes to shame—giving her a hint of what exactly Prussia was whispering to him.

Note to self: Make sure cameras are working in all broom closets and bathrooms...

Canada and Prussia. They'd gotten together due to some ridiculous supposedly-coincidental mess at a nightclub. Where apparently England, America, Denmark, the Italies, France, Spain, and Germany had all run into each other—coincidentally. Something had then happened involving an impromptu rock concert which had somehow led to America and France getting into a fist fight and voila, Canada and Prussia were suddenly a couple.

It was odd.

Particularly when you considered the other couples that had suddenly come together over the past few months. America and England—they'd been dancing around each other for centuries and all of a sudden they were actually together. Germany and Italy. Spain and Romano...

Something—more like someone—was bringing these adorable couples together... (She had issues thinking of Prussia as adorable, but Canada more than made up for it...)

And she had a pretty good idea who it was...

~.~.~

"Mon cher, Angleterre..."

France had been prepared to start another argument between himself and England... This meeting had been incredibly dull so far; Prussia was being quiet, although he seemed to be attempting to set a new record on how red he could get Canada's cheeks to turn. America was glaring at the albino, too focused on attempting to get him to self-combust to make any inane suggestions that would set England off...

To put it in simplest terms, France was bored.

So he was about to try to set off his favourite green-eyed nation with a well-thought out jibe against his eyebrows... When he was suddenly grabbed by the collar of his shirt and tugged backwards, so hard that he almost flew out of his chair.

This at least solved the boredom issue that most of the other nations were also facing... Since they weren't used to such a quiet meeting either. It felt wrong for everyone to be so well-behaved...

So when Hungary suddenly stood up, walked over to France, and almost tugged him out of his seat, most of the nations perked up immediately. This was more like it. This was the sort of thing they were used to...

"France, will you come with me, please?"

France turned his head to stare at her, eyes widening in surprise. Thoughts immediately racing in an attempt to figure out what he'd done...

I haven't done anything to Austria recently. Besides that whole thing with the air vents, but she couldn't possibly know about that...

"Of course, ma cheri." He stood, flashing her a grin before walking toward the door...

She can't still be angry about the shower incident. How was I supposed to know that they decided to switch bathrooms that day?

Of course, it didn't help that when he passed Prussia, he was immediately graced with a spontaneous rendition of the funeral march.

Someday he was going to murder his best friend.

And he wouldn't regret it at all.

He followed the not-at-all intimidating female nation outside of the room... And immediately wished that he hadn't, when she closed the door behind them and turned on him with blazing eyes. Blazing eyes that were usually the last thing that you saw before you were introduced to frying pan-induced unconsciousness.

But he was going to face this like a man...

"Prusse did it! I told him not to, but he did it anyway. It was all his idea. And Antoine helped! I wasn't even there... I was trying to show Arthur the wonders of l'amour. I even have the scars to prove it!"

...Well, he didn't say what type of man.

For a long moment, Hungary just stared at the nation standing in front of her—or cowering in front of her. And then she rolled her eyes and sighed. "I don't know what you're talking about and I'd rather not know. I wanted to ask you a question."

"Oh?" France perked up slightly at this. A question? What sort of question? A question about l'amour? Perhaps she was feeling lonely and needed someone to cheer her up... France, after all, was very good at cheering up lonely people.

"Is it your fault that Germany and Italy, Spain and Romano, America and England, and Prussia and Canada got together?"

Not exactly the question about l'amour he'd been hoping for, but it was still about l'amour, albeit indirectly. "Ah, you've noticed? Oui, that was moi. And Prusse and Antoine helped a little bit." Okay, a bit more than a little bit, but he'd been the mastermind. Those two wouldn't know the first thing about l'amour if it weren't for him.

"I thought so. So..." And now she took a step closer and her lips suddenly twisted up into a smile that made France wish that he was out here with someone else. Anyone else. He'd take Russia over her right now. "Who's next?"

He blinked.

Multiple times.

"Quoi?"

"Who. Is. Next? Who are you bringing together next? I want in on it." And suddenly she tugged a notebook into sight, her eyes gleaming with evil excitement. "Who's it going to be? I have a list of couples that I think would be really cute together, if you need to look at it."

France was starting to feel slightly nervous. He hadn't actually been planning on doing anymore matchmaking. Not after what happened last time. He was still bruised from that.

Then again, Hungary's expression was quite plainly reading, 'If you don't do this for me, I will bash your brains out with a frying pan. Then I will stomp on them until they're flat like a pancake and then I will set them on fire'. It was a look that even Romano wouldn't have been able to pull off.

"...Who were you thinking of?" he finally gave in. Prussia wasn't going to be happy about this... But if he had a problem with it, he could go tell Hungary so.

Now she beamed, her expression still terrifying, but one that left him with pity for the couple in question and not in fear for his own life, so he was fine with it. "Well, there are so many, really... I think the one I would go with, though..." And here she grabbed his arm and dragged him to the door they'd just exited, sliding it open just wide enough for the two of them to peer inside.

"Ve~ but Doitsu! I'm hungry! I need to go make pasta~"

"Yeah, potato bastard, are you trying to starve us or something?"

Germany was standing in front of everyone, looking as if he'd greatly enjoy bashing his head against the nearest solid object. Which would probably be his podium. "We just had a food break twenty-five minutes ago..."

"Ve~ but I'm hungry again, Doitsu~"

"The hero moves that we should take a break, too. I'm out of cheeseburgers..."

"You had a whole bag of them when we got back from our last break!"

"I've gotta keep my energy up, Iggy. Heroes need their energy, after all!"

And now Germany did bash his head into the nearest solid object, which was his podium. Startling Prussia away from the lobster-red Canada and leading to him jumping up and standing beside him, poking his head. "Hey, Westen? Hey, Westen? You dead, Westen? Can I have your porn stash if you're dead, Westen?"

"Them!" Hungary suddenly remarked, as she pointed into the room. France following her finger...

Toward the Nordic states.

They, for the most part, seemed to be ignoring the rest of the world pretty well. Sweden and Finland were talking amongst themselves. Iceland was just staring across the room—France tried to follow his gaze, but couldn't see what was so interesting about a blank wall. And Denmark was simultaneously guffawing at everyone else and poking Norway in the side to try to get a rise out of him.

"Who? Sweden and Finland?" That wouldn't be difficult. They were pretty much married anyway.

"No, Denmark and Norway. Although if you could get some cute pictures of Sweden and Finland, that would be great too... But I mainly want you to get Denmark and Norway together."

France stared at them, tapping his finger against his perfectly-stubbled chin. Denmark and Norway. They'd be a bit more difficult...

Then again, it would be rather fun to introduce those two in-denial nations to l'amour. And he enjoyed a challenge.

"What do I get if I agree to this?" Images of appropriate payments began to flicker through his mind... Most of them involving Austria. Some involving a maid outfit... Others involving other outfits that he already had prepared in his special closet...

"How about I don't bash you in the face with my frying pan?" And said frying pan suddenly appeared in her hand.

France had no idea how she managed to make that frying pan appear out of thin air. But at the moment, he didn't care.

That was a pretty good payment too. He could live with that. "I think that we have a deal, Mademoiselle," he replied, holding out his hand to her.

She grinned, the frying pan going back...to wherever the heck it came from...as she took the hand in a grip that was a little too tight to be friendly. "I'm glad that we understand each other, Francis. Kiku and I will be greatly looking forward to assisting you however we can."

France nodded, trying not to wince at her grip. Thankful when she finally let go and he could start coaxing the blood to run back into his fingers. "Oui, hopefully this will be enjoyable for everyone..."

Prussia was definitely not going to be happy about this.

A/N: Bonjour! I have returned with the next in our TMAMT series! Just to warn you, updates on this will not be as fast as the last story, so I apologize now for that. Although they'll still be pretty fast.

For the title... Galehus = Danish for Madhouse

Oh, and if anyone has any ideas for this story, I'd greatly enjoy it. Since we're dealing with the Nordics (who haven't shown up very often) I'm not entirely positive where I want to go with this. So suggestions are always appreciated... :D