The Nordics couldn't take it.
Norway couldn't take it.
The fall of the strongest Northern European nation.
The fall of Denmark.
It was a terrible time in Denmark. The people, the rulers and the commonfolk and the merchants and the poor. They were all dying, slowly, painfully freezing and running out of food and shelter. The poor and homeless folk were dying out the quickest. All the crops were dead. All the cattle and sheep and pigs and lambs were dead. There was no meat at all left, and so the people were barely surviving off of whatever scraps they could find, some even killing their housepets for fresh meat. The only good food was kept by the royal family which had grown greedy in this time of distress. The population was decreasing rapidly, the country's citizens slowly falling into the deep abyss that was The Fall of Denmark.
Snow had taken rule over the country. It piled up two meters in some of the more northern parts of Denmark. The lakes and ponds and even some of the parts of the sea were frozen over. Every tree in sight was either downed, covered in snow, or both. It was as much of a wasteland as Antarctica. Except with people. None of the other countries could send help. It was useless.
This terrible phenomenon wasn't effecting any of the other countries; Not Norway or Sweden, nor Holland or any country besides Denmark. They hadn't even known it was happening until they'd been notified that Denmark had fallen terribly ill. He would lie in bed all day and cough up blood. Norway forced him to stay at his house so he could take care of the dying nation. He'd fuss over Denmark, if not at his side he'd be getting him soup or a hot towel or something to possibly make him feel more comfortable. Norway knew that death was inevitable, but he wanted his lover to feel more comfortable, even if he were to die soon.
Denmark lay with his head in Norway's lap, their hands entwined and a painful silence filling the dark bedroom. A single candle burned on the nightstand, illuminating the room enough so that Norway could see the weak nation resting in his lap. The hand not holding Denmark's stroked his graying hair absentmindedly. His mind was occupied with too many things, ranging to how he would handle the loss of the European country to any way he could possibly prevent this or at the very least delay his death.
"Hej Norge?" Denmark's voice was gruff and raspy and it hurt him to speak, but he didn't want Norway to worry about him too much. "Why… why do you care so much? I mean… usually you'd call me annoying and slap me. What's up?"
"It's a complicated thing called love." He ran a hand through Denmark's hair, "Idiot, I thought you'd be able to understand that." Norway kissed the other's forehead. Denmark shifted to his side in Norway's lap.
"'Idiot'. That's the Norge I know~." Denmark smiled. God, it hurt to smile, but he would do it one last time for Norway. His Norway.
Denmark was slowly fading away. Literally. He was translucent in Norway's arms, gripping tightly to Norway's shirt as if that would prevent him from disappearing. He cried silently against Norway's neck. He didn't want to go. He was going to leave forever. The snow would never melt. The people were all dead, even the royal family. All gone. Every last one.
Norway pulled Denmark's bloodied face to his and kissed him softly, gently, as if the tiniest hint of passion would break Denmark, cause him to leave quicker. He cradled his face gently in his hands, pulling him closer as slowly as possible, wanting to savor the moment. Denmark's ghostly-white hands held Norway loosely around the waist. Norway moved away and kissed the Dane's forehead, muttering nonsensical Norwegian into his almost-gone skin.
"Jeg elsker deg, Danmark." Norway whispered as the previous two bodies in the bedroom became one. Norway almost felt like he heard some ghostly whisper, a faint "I love you too, Norge." and, for the first time in months, Norway smiled.