So, another story I guess! It's a bit rushed, as I wrote it on the flight back home from Denmark, but I still hope you like it! :)
In this world full of pain and grief,
We are cursed.
Cursed to see blood
Cursed to endure pain
Cursed to hurt the ones we love
Forever
And there is no other option.
"So…
No matter what, will you stay with me?"
"..."
"You would."
"Hm."
"Just admit it."
"... fine.
"I would."
Part 1
Kalmar Union
The great wood door creaks open and my head snaps up.
"Denmark?" I call.
"Nor?" a voice goes. "Is that you?" I see the glint of a bloodstained sword appear beyond the door. A shadow falls across the floor of marble. A boot. Then trousers. A red cape …
"Denmark!" I shoot up from my chair and race to him. I throw myself into his arms. "Denmark…" Denmark drops his sword and picks me up, spinning me around. His face is covered in blood and grime, but his smile is still as flawless as always.
"Nor…!" His blue eyes are twinkling in happiness. "We won! And…" He trails off for a moment. "... I missed you." I bury my face in his neck, holding back tears of joy yet pain at the same time.
"I missed you too."
I fill the basin as Denmark undresses behind me. I move slowly, afraid to see what new scars he's gained over the past half a year, the wounds so fresh. When I turn around, my tears, which had been haunting me and threatening to spill out all day, nearly did again. He's covered in cuts and bruises, some shallow and others gravely deep.
"I'm fine, Nor. You shoulda seen what I did to Sweden's FACE! Ha, it was hilarious."
"But I didn't," I tell him briskly. "However, I do see what he did to your face. And it worries me." I freeze when I feel strong arms wrap around me and hold me tight.
"Nor…" I shake him off and make him sit down.
When Denmark's completely bandaged, he could be half a mummy. I watch him slide on a pair of clean trousers and then a shirt.
"Now can I hug you?"
"What?"
"You didn't want to hug me earlier, because I was all bloody, right?" For a moment I stare at Denmark. Then I smack him.
"No, idiot." Suddenly a surge of emotion hits me, and I nearly lose it. "Why…" I choke. "Why did I run into your arms, then? Why would I wash you and clean your wounds and bandage you, if I despised you because you were covered in blood? I just… couldn't bear to see you like that. Fighting for half of your life, all for-"
"For you?" I had meant to say "all for nothing", but Denmark left me speechless at his words. He grins, taking me into his arms. " 'cuz I-" This time it's me who cuts him off.
"Love you." He stares.
"Nor…?" I can feel my face heating up.
"I love you, Denmark," I mutter. "Not as a friend, not as a brother. I love you." I'm glad he pulls me into his arms, so he doesn't see my tears. I can feel his hand stroking the back of my head, other hand over my hips. "Please, stay with me." I choke. "Don't leave me. Please. I can't live without you."
"Never. I love you too, Norge."
Part 2
Modern Times
Nor rubs his temples. He slaps down his book and turns to glare at me.
"Will just you stop?" he snarls. "What the hell is wrong with you?" I pout.
"I just wanted you to admit that you said you loved me, Nor," I whine. "You were all nice to me for a while after that one battle with Sverige and you said you loved me! I can still remember what you said, word for word! 'I love you, Denmark. Not as a friend, not as a brother. I love you.' Then after you became independent and we could finally see each other, you forgot all about it and went back to treating me the way you did."
"I did not!" he shouts.
"Just admit it. You did."
"Just shut up, idiot Dane," Nor goes, pulling me forward by my tie. "I never said I loved you and I never did!" I roll my eyes.
"Oh, come on, yeah you did!" I pause for a moment. "Okey fine. I won't bother you about saying you loved me. How about you admit that you DO love me!" Nor kicks me in the shin.
"I hate you."
"Owie."
"Can you just go home? I don't even get why you're here. You might as well give up, because I never loved you, don't love you, and never will!" I don't lift a finger. It's kind of fun, teasing Nor like this sometimes. His reactions are always so cute.
"It's not that hard. Just admit it. I thought you were good at self-control or something, right? Say three words. 'I love you.' You can do it."
"What is this, a primary school program?" Nor growls, smacking me in the head. "You're annoying, bror." I grin and lie down across his lap.
"And yer cute." He picks up his book and smacks me with it, gently, but just hard enough to let me feel pain. "Heehee. That doesn't even hurt."
"Because you've got such a thick head?" I reach up and bop his nose.
"Couldn't you come up with something more positive? Like I have high pain tolerance or something?"
"Positive… Danes are blessed by natural selection because they are at lower risk of head injuries when they walk into walls, prance around like idiots, irritate Norwegians, amongst other stupid things due to the remarkable thickness of their skulls."
"Heeeeyy!" Norway snorts, gently poking my cheek.
"You're such an idiot," he murmurs. I stare up into his eyes for a while, before thinking of something random to say.
"Let's go to Nyhavn for lunch."
"... I don't see why not."
"My treat!" I tell Nor as we walk down the canal. He shrugs.
"Sure." We sit down at the small cafe we always go to when we have lunch together Nyhavn. Which is pretty often. A smiley waiter by the name of William strides over. He's always our waiter, and he and I are pretty close.
"The usual, Mathias?" he asks me in Danish. I respond yes, so he ambles off, humming merrily. I stretch, giving Norway a smile.
"The weather's nice today," I muse.
"Mm."
"We should come here again soon."
"You say that every time."
"True." I lean forward, my entire torso sprawling across the glossed wooden table. "Hey Nor, you love me right?" He scoots back some.
"No." I pout.
"Yes you do! Yer just embarrassed to admit it." He presses his palm to my forehead, pushing my head back.
"Stop doing that. It's embarrassing." I bug my eyes out at him, open mouthed.
"Admit it, admit it, just admit it," I sing. "I'm not gonna budge until you admit that you love me. Admit it, admit it, just admit it," I continue. Nor rolls his eyes and glares at me, but I keep rambling until the waiter comes back with our food.
After we're done with our lunch, Nor stands.
"I have to go back to Norway now," he tells me bluntly. "I have important business to take care of." He checks his watch. "I need to be there in an hour, so I'll go ahead first." He pauses, as if hesitating to say something. "Take care, Danmark." Then he melts into the crowd of people.
Sighing heavily, I turn around to get my bag. As I do so I notice something shiny on the table.
Nor's hair clip? How would he forget something like that here? Gingerly I pocket it. Nor would never forget anything of his, especially not something so precious to him.
Weird.
Part 3
World War
The year is 2058. War has taken its toll on the world, roaming the lands and rampaging them. The only place on Earth that hasn't been completely destroyed by war is Switzerland, and it's a blessing to all of us that its personification is kind enough to let us stay in certain hospitals. As countries, we can die, but we'll just regenerate, basically, so we need to watch our people die, our lands burn, our kind suffer. And there's no end to it. Nor is there another option to quit being a nation. … We've already been fighting for five years.
Oh, you don't know me? Hm, I don't blame you. I'm Norway, or more officially the Kingdom of Norway. At least, I once was. I'm just a scattered race of people, with no borders nor government. It's only the language that serves as the fine line between many nations, especially between Denmark, Sweden and I. Nowadays, many people don't even think of us as countries. Just 'Scandinavia'. It's like a country now, the Nordic Five.
We've allied with America, England, France, Australia, Canada, and Japan, among others. Our biggest enemies are Russia and China ("surprise, surprise," said America), but they've gotten support from places like Pakistan and many African nations. The living conditions of their troops are ten times lower than ours, but the propaganda has considerably boosted their morale.
Doesn't matter, though. All of us are torn, rampaged, injured. We just want it to stop. But no matter what we say, to anyone, humans don't listen. They don't understand what we understand. They haven't seen what we've seen. They haven't done what we've done, gone through what we've gone through. That's why they'll never understand.
Enough introductions?
Welcome to World War III.
Right now, I'm on break. Sweden approaches me and takes off his helmet.
"Just checked 'n Ice," he tells me. " 's arm's fine."
"Okay," I reply, standing up and brushing myself off. "Thanks." I get out of the tent that I share with Denmark, Finland, Sweden and Iceland, except for the fact that Iceland got injured by Russia the other day.
I open the flap of the first aid tent where Iceland's resting.
"Lillebror?" I call. "You feeling okay?"
"Yeah, I'm fine," comes the muffled voice. "My arm's just kinda sore. It's not a deep wound."
I stride over to his bedside at sit at the chair next to it. I take his hand and squeeze it, not afraid to let my worry show through.
"You need to be more careful," I warn him. "The enemy targets you for no good reason."
"I'm weak, that's why," he says gloomily. "They want to get rid of me."
"That's not true," I say, but we both know that it's true. Iceland had been suffering economic problems up until the war, which weakened him. Russia was a large benefactor, but since the war, the loss of his support was a huge blow to Iceland. He invaded Reykjavik a few days ago, which resulted in a gash on the arm for my brother.
"YO! ICEY!" The tent flap flies open, and a certain smiling Dane bounds in. "You doin' okay?" Denmark doesn't even have a helmet on. "And hi Nor!"
"Idiot, what do you think you're doing, prancing around outside without a helmet on? What if Belarus was in the bushes 10 meters away, and shot you in the head?" Denmark pouts.
"But we're at our base camp!" he protests.
"And you can still get killed at your base camp," I retort. "By me, if I catch you without a helmet again." Denmark rolls his eyes.
"Fiiiiiiine. Yer such a party pooper, Nor." I glare at him.
"There's nothing about a war that resembles a party, idiot. So shut up and wear your helmet." Denmark drags over another chair and plops down next to me.
"Okay! By the way, how're your rations lately?"
"Not too bad," Iceland says, frowning. "I feel like I've been getting more than usual recently, maybe it's because I'm a nation? It's probably not a big thing."
"Have you been eating all of it?" I give Denmark a side glance. He never worries about things like that. That kind of question is for me to ask. I'm still staring at him until I realize he's been asking both of us.
"Yes." He looks relieved.
"That's good." I check my watch.
"My break time's over now," I announce. "Get some rest, Ice. Bror, if you bother him, I'll kill you, so you better shut up or you can leave." Denmark grins.
"I'll be fine, Nor!" When I bend over to exit the tent, I'm surprised when Denmark follows me outside.
Why're we so physically close?
"What." He takes my hands, further embarrassing me.
"Be careful out there, Nor." I want to pull away and leave, but to his surprise, and to my own, too, I reach up and brush a leaf out of his hair.
"Mm." And then I leave.
During the evening, when I come back with my dinner, I see Nor sitting outside, eating. I go and plop down next to him.
"Hi Nor!"
"Hm." He takes another bite of his food.
"How was today?"
"Mediocre. We made some progress over airspace, I guess, and America's doing pretty well on the Middle East, but China nearly killed Korea and Taiwan. Tokyo's been captured by Chinese and Russian troops. So the main superpowers aren't really bothering Scandinavia yet, but it's just a matter of time before Russia gets to us." I don't say anything. I just stare at Norway's fine contours, outlined against the light of the setting sun. His pale skin is streaked with dirt and grime, hair tangled and matted. His long, thick lashes still outline a pair of deep indigo eyes. The same ones I fell in love with all those centuries ago.
Slowly I take my spoon, shovel some food, and carefully dump it onto his plate. Nor doesn't notice, so I keep doing it until half of my food is gone. Then I start eating.
"Yo, Nor, yer such a slow eater," I tease. "Eat faster, yeh don't know how much time you have when Russia's attacking you." He stares down at his plate.
"I swear had eaten half of it already…" he mutters. "How…"
"Because yer a slowpoke!" I poke his cheek for good measure. "Ya gotta eat faster! See? Yer eatin' so little that you can't even remember things properly!" He doesn't reply. "Hey, remember when we used to go to Nyhavn together for lunch a lot? Those were the good old days, weren't they?" Nor smiles a bit.
"Yeah, they were. I enjoyed those times."
"Maybe one day we can do that again."
"Hm."
BOOM!
There are distant screams. In horror I watch as a mushroom cloud rises up from maybe 150 kilometers away. It's huge. Did Scandinavia just get nuked by Russia? China? Iran?
I can feel the heat and pressure coming out in waves. The debris. The heat wave. The radiation.
"Nor!" I yell. "We gotta get outta here!" His eyes are wide with alarm, but face calm nonetheless. He clambers to his feet, plate clattering to the ground. I mirror his movements, taking his hand and sprinting for my life. As we run together I look back for a split second and see his plastic plate still on the ground-and it's empty.
Despite it all, I can't help but smile.
I can feel Denmark's hand close around mine as we run.
"WHERE'S THE BASE CAMP?" I shout. We can't see anything. I hear the whirring of engines above my head. Fighter planes. Enemy fighter planes. The ground explodes beneath us. Denmark collapses in the dirt.
"BROR!" I shriek. "BROR!" He gasps in agony, eyes squeezed shut. His right leg is soaked in blood, and it's pooling rapidly. I can't take off my jacket fast enough to wrap it around his leg. Then I drag him into a nearby shack, battered by war. There're bullet holes in the walls, a gaping hole in the roof, and everything's covered in dust. Whatever happy family once lived here is long gone. It doesn't matter. I lay him on the floor, his blood leaving a trail across it.
"Bror please. Please, stay with me. Don't leave me. Please! I can't live without you." When I get no reply from him, I nearly faint. He can't be… dying? "Bror!" I shake him by the shoulders, but his head lolls lifelessly from side to side. "Remember…" I choke. "I promised you. You asked me to stay with you, forever! I promised! And I kept that promise! You promised me too! You said you'd never leave me, and I remember it so clearly, like it happened yesterday! But… what about you now? Leaving me, that's what you're doing. LEAVING ME! And you promised you wouldn't!" I say this while I try to get the bullet out of his leg, but my hands are shaking so hard I can't wrap my fingers around the tiny silver bullet. I'm starting to panic. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," I whisper. It's not often I lose control of my emotions like this. The only other time I've ever been the way I am now was when Sweden took me from Denmark.
"Now… will you admit it?" a voice croaks.
"BROR!" I wail, throwing myself over him. I wrap my arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "Thank God, thank God, you're alive…" He brushes my hair out of my face.
"I won't be alive for long, Nor," he rasps. "I've lost almost half of my blood already… look, you're kneeling in a pool of it. The bullet got my vital artery. Shit happens, you know?" His face is streaked with tears, eyes brimming. "So will you… just admit it?"
"Yes you will. You will live. You'll be fine. You…" Suddenly I realize the shallow rise and fall of his chest has stopped. "Bror? BROR!" I scream. He's smiling, tears of agony running down his face.
"... Farvel, Nor," he whispers. "See ya soon." He's still crying when he leaves me.
Then, and only then, I realize. It cost him his life for me to know how much he meant to me. How much I loved him.
How stupid I am.
Part 4
Admitting
"Which room is he in?" I ask the receptionist tiredly.
"Sixth floor, room 609," she tells me. "Please check in here."
I'm in Switzerland right now. The war still isn't over. The year is 2062.
I am Norway, or more officially the Kingdom of Norway. Pleased to meet you.
I pick up the pen and fill in the boxes. Lukas Bondevik. Check in time, 11:07 PM. Purpose: Visitor. I nod at the receptionist as I walk over to the elevators. Anxiously I wait as the elevator goes up… up… to the sixth floor. I step out of the elevator and find room 609 right around the corner. I use some hand sanitizer and knock quietly on the wooden door. The nurse answers.
"Lukas?" she asks me. I nod. "Come on in, please. He's asleep right now, so please remain quiet." I take the seat by the bed and hold his hand. Denmark's got tubes sticking out of him everywhere, plus a machine that regulates his heartbeat. I guess he didn't do a good job of regenerating. Swallowing thickly, I start to talk.
"Hei, bror," I say quietly. "I figured out what was going on with my rations, and Ice's too. You were giving your own food to us. You went hungry so we didn't have to." I can feel my vision clouding, but I force myself to keep my voice steady. "You sacrificed. For us. You idiot, sacrificing your own rations! We would've done fine! We would've pulled through!" Carefully I place my arms on Denmark's stomach, putting my head down them. I stare at the rise and fall of his chest, his peaceful, sleeping face.
A tear materializes and slides out of my eye.
Watching him sleep, slowly, slowly, I slip into a restless slumber too.
Sunlight streams through the hospital window. I shift uncomfortably, before opening my eyes. I can hear weird, rhythmic noises from outside the balcony.
I look up. Denmark's not in bed. Probably went to the restroom or something… until I notice his IV hanging limply by the bed. Now I'm fully awake.
Wherever he is, he did not go use the restroom.
I slam open the door to the balcony. The sight that meets my eyes is terrible.
"Bror?" Denmark's punching the brick wall barehanded. His knuckles are covered in blood as he slams his fists repeatedly into the wall. His punches are terribly accurate, with the power and practice of someone who's been training for centuries. Literally. Meaning they get his knuckles and scrape them raw with every punch. "Bror, what are you doing? Stop! Bror, stop it! Stop hurting yourself! Stop it!" Denmark's arms drop to his side. He's panting.
"There you go again," he snarls. I step back, horrified. He's never talked like this before. "Bror, is it? Bror, stop it!" he mimicks me, voice girlishly high. "BROR thank God you're alive. BROR please. BROR stop it." He emphasizes each bror with a punch. "It's all bror. BROR, BROR, BROR! Over and over again!" He slams his head against the wall, body shaking. He speaks again, but his voice is quieter this time. It's feeble, even. "Am I… really just a brother to you?" Suddenly it crescendoes. "JUST A BROTHER?!" He resumes punching the bricks, ignoring the blood that's running down his arm and dripping to the floor at his elbow.
"DANMARK!" I scream. "STOP IT!" From behind, I throw my arms around him, holding him tight. I press my cheek against his back and squeeze my eyes shut, feeling hot tears stinging at them. "Stop… I can't see you hurt yourself. Stop." I can hear his heart hammering in his chest, his heavy, laboured breaths.
"And why would you care, brother-"
"Wake up, Denmark, wake up!" I roar. "What's gotten into you? What happened?" Suddenly he drops to his knees, out of my grip, and buries his face in his hands.
"You happened," he stammers. Tears are dripping uncontrollably down his cheeks, and he wipes at them harshly. He smears blood across his face as he does so. He whips around and wraps his arms around my hips, burying his face against my abdomen. "Don't you get it Nor? I love you. I'm hopelessly in love with you. But every time… hearing you call me brother… is like a stab to my heart because I know you don't return my feelings but… every day I remember that night you told me you loved me! And times change. Feelings change. We change. But my love for you hasn't changed one bit since those early days and if anything, it's gotten stronger." Denmark chokes, hugging me tighter. "So I understand if after this, you'll never want to talk to me again, see me again. It's okay. I-"
In disbelief, I sink down to my knees, matching his height.
"Denmark," I whisper. "No." With every moment, I'm leaning in closer and closer. "Say it, Denmark. What you've been saying to me for centuries. Say it." He cups my face in his hands, touching our noses together.
"... Just admit it, Nor." Our lips brush against each other's.
"I love you, Denmark. Not as a friend, not as a brother. I love you." He kisses me, and I kiss back. New tears are streaming down his face, but they're tears of joy, not agony.
"You don't know how long I've longed to hear your voice form those words again," he whispers. His eyes are soft. "I love you too, Norway." His arms are wrapped around my waist as he pulls me close again.
The tender moment we share a slow, deep kiss is the sweetest moment of my life.
Soaked in his warmth, buried in his love, I don't care that the war hasn't ended. That we've got a long way ahead of us. That there's more pain in store for us. Because I have him now.
Where we go next, we go together.
Part 5
Epilogue
"Wanna go to Nyhavn for lunch?" I ask Nor. He smiles, giving me a quick peck on the cheek.
"I don't see why not," he answers, putting on a light jacket. "It's 11:56. Get a move on, Dane."
Oh, I almost forgot. I'm the Kingdom of Denmark, at your service. The war's finally over, and the world has started rebuilding. The year is 2064. Swe and Fin are doing alright, I guess, and Icey too. He's staying at the Nordic meeting house for a while, with me and Nor. It's such a miracle we've survived through this ordeal. I mean, as nations, we were all supposed to, I guess.
Nyhavn has also, which I think is the real miracle. It was like a ghost town for nearly a decade, but life is beginning to pour back. The Danish used the cafes as places to store conventional missiles, but now people can go eat there again. Nor and I stroll to the old cafe where we always went. And what do you know, William's still there. He's lost a lot of weight, that's for sure. I can't ignore how sunken his cheeks are, how stick-like he is. But he's still got the same warm brown eyes and happy smile.
"Mathias!" he greets me. "It's been so long! And you too, Lukas! It's so nice to see y'all again!" I stand up and embrace him.
"Will! It's been a while, yeah? How's it going?" He shakes his head.
"I served in the army during the war," he tells me. "Got shot point-blank. But hey, God bless, I'm here up and alive! My wife and two kids are doin' great. Oh, I keep forgetting, it's three now. How 'bout you?" I grin, patting his shoulder.
"That's great to hear. A new addition's always nice. Well, yeh know, I did some military combat as well, got hurt a few times, but it's all good now." William beams.
"Wonderful, I'm just so glad to see you safe and sound." He pulls out his notepad and pencil. "So, the usual?"
After eating, Nor gets a call from Ice. He pales, and my blood runs cold.
"HONG KONG'S COMING OVER?" he screeches. "AND YOU DIDN'T CHECK WITH ME?" In relief, I deflate like a balloon. "BUT YOU HAVEN'T CLEANED THE HOUSE, AND YOU CAN'T JUST MEET WITH SOMEONE ALONE LIKE THAT!" Pause. "Okay, forty five minutes shouldn't be too bad. Start with the cleaning. Now." Wth that he hangs up. "Do I need to explain what happened?"
"Nope."
"Okay. Good. I'll go ahead first, you take your time." He melts away into the throng of tourists by the dock, leaving me alone.
Sighing heavily, I turn around to get my jacket from the back of the chair when I see a shiny object on the table.
Nor's hair clip? I'll just give it to him when I get home.
It's weird, though. Nor would never forget anything, let alone something this important to him. He's only done it once before. I take the hairpin and turn it over a few times in my hands until I notice something engraved on the back of it.
Looking closer, I see what it says.
Jeg elsker deg.
I grin. Nor's such a sneaky one.
THE END
