First off, while I did research this, there are probably a lot of parts that are wrong. I totally love WWII, and I just thought this would make a good story. It was meant to be something else completely, but it kind-of ended up like this. Don't ask.
Secondly, this is TOTAL DENNOR. Because in my opinion, they are the cutest together. And they remind me a lot of Spain and Romano, and I'm a complete Spamano girl. Also, everyone's a little bit OOC in this, so yeah. Don't get mad.
x Rachel
The battleground was dreadful. Men lay left, right and centre, innocent people scattered like a little kid had just dropped a jar of marbles on the ground. A blonde staggered through the field, in an awful state, before collapsing to the ground.
The man kneeled on the ground, his face battered and dirty, but still no tears at his eyes. He had rips and tears in his white and blue uniform, and his breathing came in short pants, his blonde hair ruffled and messy. Above him stood another blonde, this one tall and strong, holding a gun in one of his gloved hands, pointed at the ground.
"Vell? Must we fight more?"
"No," said the smaller man, pained. "I- I give in."
"Good," said the other, stretching out a hand and pulling him up. "Considering you vere unprepared, zat vas an impressive fight you put up."
The smaller, summoning up all his energy, scowled, walking alongside his captor. "We knew you'd win though. Because that's what you do, isn't it? Take." Germany glared at the smaller nation, before dismissing his comment.
"Norway, you are lucky to have given up now, rather than died fighting," the man replied calmly. "Don't try my patience."
"Where's Denmark?" Norway asked. "I heard you attacked him too."
"He gave in as soon as ve attacked. No questions, nothing," said the German, monotone. "His country adapted to most of our rules. Ve let him go, but he's still under mainly German control."
"Coward," hissed Norway under his breath.
About an hour later they returned to Germany's home. Two other nations were there when they walked through the door, both sitting in the living room. The lighter haired of the two was sketching carefully, and, even though he was a prisoner in the house, Norway leaned over to see what it was. The picture was of a world map, every single country drawn in, and then, standing on their own country, a drawing of each person. Norway spotted Germany, England, America, Denmark; all drawn so well he could tell it was them. The man had even drawn himself on top of Italy, beaming and dancing. He spun around upon realising Norway was there and smiled.
"You like it?" he asked, in a happy, friendly voice.
"Yes. It's very good," nodded Norway solemnly.
The other country, who was sitting on the sofa, reading a book, looked up. He smiled a little upon seeing Norway, and nodded once. Norway bent his head in return, feeling that this man was probably not as easy-going as his friend.
"You caught him?" the man asked Germany.
"Ja," replied the blonde. "I still can't think of vat to do vith him, though." Norway took it that they were talking about him, and stood still at the doorway.
"Ve, Norway, come sit next to me!" called Italy, smiling and patting the space on the sofa next to him.
"Oh, I'm fine," said Norway, shaking his head.
"Well, you definitely need those cuts looked at," said the Italian, frowning and looking at the deep, fresh cuts on Norway's face. He stood up, and, slipping his arm through Norway's, pulled him off to the bathroom. Norway felt confused; the other two were planning what to do with him, and this man was helping him out. Wasn't he meant to be against Norway?
"Why are you being so kind to me?" asked Norway. "Is this a trick?"
"What?" said Italy, confused. Norway instantly felt bad for questioning his kindness, until the man laughed. "No, I just don't want to see you hurt. And also," he said, his voice dropping. "I owe your friend a favour."
"Huh?"
"Well, you know Denmark, right?" Norway nodded, cursing the coward inside his head. "He was overpowered a few months ago, and Germany brought him back here. He knows my brother, and he was able to tell me how he's doing. In return for the information, because Romano's supposed to be working in secret, and Denmark could get in trouble for telling me that, I told him I would do anything he wanted. And you know what he wanted?" Norway shook his head, and Italy continued. "He said, 'if Norge fails, and if he gets caught, you've got to make sure he's okay. You can't let anyone hurt him. That's all I want. Make sure Norge is okay. Please?'"
Norway was stunned. Denmark… actually cared?
"He said that?" asked Norway.
"Ve!" smiled Italy, holding up a wet cloth to Norway's face. "Now, hold still, I need to clean you up." He pressed the cloth to Norway's face, trying not to poke any of his wounds.
Half an hour later, they came downstairs. Germany was drinking coffee at the table, and Japan had gone back to reading. They both looked up when they heard Italy.
"Germany, I hope you don't mind, but Norway was cold, and his clothes were all tattered, so I just-," babbled Italy, until Germany stood up.
"Italy, I don't mind, but you really need to remember that he is a prisoner. So, as long as you don't tell him anything, it's fine," said Germany, smiling a little at the Italian.
"Ve! Great!" beamed Italy. Norway stood next to him, a little awkward in one of Italy's uniforms. It fitted him perfectly. He was still thinking about Denmark.
The next few years that passed by were easily the worst Norway had experienced. Germany was never around, thankfully. He was generally out fighting the Allies, more so near the end, both he and Japan subconsciously failing in the knowledge that they were going to lose. Italy had left in 1943, and joined onto the Allies' side, and Norway died a little inside at the feeling of losing his only friend in the world at that time. After Italy had left, the only thing that had kept him going was the thought of finally seeing everyone when this war was over; Iceland, Finland, Sweden… Denmark.
He still wondered, every now and then, about what Italy had told him when he'd first arrived, about Denmark wanting him to be okay, so much so that he asked Italy to look after him. Now that he thought over it again, he realised the actual enormity of what Denmark had done. Italy had been an Axis Power; Denmark could have asked for his own country's freedom, but he didn't. He wanted him, Norway, to be safe.
Maybe Denmark wasn't such an idiot.
"Hey! Norway! Over here!"
The war was over. Norway looked around over his shoulder, and saw, over at the other end of the train station, four very familiar faces. He felt like someone had just lifted a huge boulder off his shoulders as he waved back to them, still weak from the war, but the happiest he'd ever been. He ran towards them, smiling.
Finland had called him over, and when Norway reached the group he was instantly attacked by the Fin hugging him tightly. He stepped away, smiling.
"We've missed you Norway!" beamed Finland. "It's good to have you back. We're not Scandinavia with just four, you know." Finland looked close to tears, and Norway pulled both him and Sweden into a hug, before turning to his brother.
Norway and Iceland weren't ever very emotional, but tears had begun to leak from Iceland's eyes as he hugged his brother tightly.
"I missed you, brother," he sniffed, pulling away. "Probably the second-most."
Norway didn't even have to ask who missed him the most. He could hear a slight sobbing from behind him, and turned around to see the blonde Dane, who was smiling even though tears were streaming down his cheeks. Norway found that he was crying as well as Denmark hugged him. He sniffled into Denmark's chest, breathing in the smell of the outdoors and freshly baked pastry, both nations hugging each other tightly.
"Come on Norge," whispered Denmark, and Norway looked up to see that he was smiling softly. The huge Dane put his arm around Norway's shoulders, and the five walked off, heading towards Finland and Sweden's place, which was closest.
"Denmark?"
"Hmm?"
They were both sitting in Denmark's house, on the couch, because Norway's house was in too bad a condition for Norway to return. Norway was sipping tea, and Denmark was writing in his black notebook. Norway hated to destroy the peacefulness of the situation, but he needed to know the truth.
"When I was in Germany's house, Italy told me something."
Denmark looked around, panicked. He put his notebook down on the floor and looked at Norway with big blue eyes, running a hand through his blonde spikey hair. Norway had never seen him look so adorable.
"What?"
"He told me that you'd told him to look after me, if I failed. That you'd told him how his brother was doing in war, and he'd promised to look out for me in return."
"Norge-," Denmark began, but Norway cut him off.
"Why?"
"Huh? What do you mean, Norge?"
"Well, Italy was Axis Powers, you know. He could have got you out of it. He would have made Germany leave your country alone if you asked. He had that power. But you just wasted your chance… on me. Why?"
Denmark moved up on the couch so that he was closer to Norway, and looked down at the Norwegian.
"Because if I did that, I couldn't be assured that you'd be okay. I needed you to be alright Norge, because… well, I love you."
Norway froze. This certainly wasn't the answer he had expected. He had expected Denmark to facepalm, and go 'Aw, Norge, I should have asked him that! I'm such a moron!', or maybe say that he had forgotten his situation, but not to say this. Denmark… loved him?
Memories flashed by in front of Norway's eyes.
The first time he met Denmark, in high school. Denmark had invited him to sit with him and the other Nordics at lunch, and had sat right next to him.
When Denmark got his own place, and he invited Norway over for dinner.
That one world meeting. Denmark had stood up and got mad at England for annoying Norway, and had ended up beating him up. Denmark was pretty strong.
When the 'Awesome Trio' went drinking, and Denmark had ended up calling Norway, stone drunk, and confessing to him. Because he was drunk, Norway never believed him. But maybe…
"I'm sorry, Norge," said Denmark, realising that Norway had frozen still. "I just- never mind. But yeah, that's why I did it."
Norway looked up into Denmark's big blue eyes, and couldn't believe he'd never noticed how stunningly perfect the Dane was.
"Idiot," he whispered, before doing the only thing he could think of; leaning forward to press his lips against Denmark's.
Denmark responded immediately. He wound his arms around Norway's lower back, pulling him in closer as he kissed back, and Norway almost forgot where he was, he felt so happy. Denmark's lips tasted of cinnamon and sugar, and Norway slipped his arms around the taller man's neck, unknowingly straddling Denmark. This feeling… this bliss was too good to be possible, and was the best Norway had ever felt in his life. Denmark's tongue ran across his bottom lip, and Norway opened his mouth willingly. After a few more moments, Norway pulled away, out of breath and panting.
"Norge," whispered Denmark, grinning. "I love you."
"I love you too, idiot," smiled Norway, leaning in so his forehead was pressed against Denmark's. "And I always will."
Me: OHMYGODIT'SADORABLE! DENNOR FOREVER!
*POOF!*
England: Wait, what the bloody hell am I doing here?
America: Dude, wait, I'm here too. What are we doing? Duuuuuuude!
Me: Shut up you two. I need you here. You see, if I ask people to review, they'll think that I'm being annoying and needy, but if you two ask, they won't be able to refuse! It's the perfect plan!
America: Dude, that's badass! People, review and I'll send you all virtual hamburgers!
England: And I will cook you all scones!
Me and America: ENGLAND!
England: What?
Me: Ignore those two. Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to bring them here… Review anyway, though!