A.N: based on a Nordic head-cannon on tumblr where an anon has submitted that it was Norway who taught a clumsy Denmark how to fight with an axe – too good of a head-cannon to not write a fic about
"Norgeeeeee"
The nation in question cringed at the mention of his name as he tried to hunch himself lower down behind the bushes. Odin damn that persistent Dane.
"Norge! Norge! Norgeeeeee"
Norway decided enough was enough.
"I'm over here you idiot..what do you want?"
The shorter nation sighed with annoyance as he stood up to face his 'older' brother.
"Norge! Check this out!"
Norway stared at the thing in Denmark's hand and immediately paled. Oh for the love of Thor.
"You...You found an axe?"
"Yes!" Denmark exclaimed and swung the weapon around as if it was a mere stick.
"Isn't it amazing! Look at these runes! Nothing will harm me when I have this"
Norway face-palmed.
"Denmark...you don't know anything about fighting with a battle axe! You can barely chop wood!"
The Dane pouted and clutched the large axe to his body protectively.
"That's a lie! I can totally do this! Just you watch!"
Norway took a few steps back from the Dane and gave him a worried look – this wasn't going to end well.
Denmark didn't even seem to notice Norway had moved, instead he poised himself in a battle position – taking a deep breath – before he swung the axe around.
The first thing Norway noticed was that his footwork was all wrong. Denmark was used to sword fighting or throwing the odd spear or two – he had no idea how to balance himself when spinning around with a large battle axe. The shorter Nordic took another step away from the Dane and continued to keep a critical eye to each movement.
Meanwhile Denmark was completely lost in his own little world – battling large dragons and vicious enemies that threatened to hurt his precious 'little' brothers.
With quick movements he attempted to swirl around and plant the axe into the ground as if he was slaying a large Jotunn.
However; the momentum was too great, as the large and heavy axe-head proved to be gravity's slave when one swung it too quickly – and with a yelp of fright the axe slipped from the young Vikings' grip and soared straight into a nearby tree, missing Norway's head by mere millimetes.
Norway stared at the axe embedded into the tree-trunk, then back at Denmark – who was smiling with a sheepish smile and rubbing the back of his head.
"See how great I am! I have such control of the axe..." The Dane trailed off as he saw his best friend yank the battle-axe out of the tree and stomp over with such intense anger in his eyes Denmark was sure he was going to die.
"Odin spare me." he whispered as Norway grabbed a hold of his cloak and pulled him down the few centimetres hight difference between them.
"You useless son of a giant!" Norway snarled as he clutched both Denmark's axe and cloak tighter.
"That almost hit me!"
"Almost being the key word." Denmark chirped happily, but quickly fell silent as he noticed his optimisms was not appreciated by Norway at all.
"Stick with what you know...your ten thumbs will have us all beheaded and sent to Hel's gates with our heads under our arms! No glory in dying by your hand!"
"But Norge...Axes are almost as awesome as Thor's Hammer! I need to fight with it! It's my calling!"
"You said the same thing about the bow and arrow a full moon ago." Norway did not look convinced at all.
"This is different!"
"I don't believe you."
Norway glared and let go of Denmark's cloak, making the other nation stumble over his feet at the sudden change of weight distribution to his feet.
However; Denmark was a very stubborn nation, and also a very stubborn viking – he wasn't going down without a fight.
Clinging to the other male's leg he whined loudly.
"Norgeeeeee, you can teach me!"
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you're clumsy."
Denmark pouted and clutched tighter onto Norway's leg, making it near impossible for the shorter male to walk away.
"Come on Norge! I'll replace the bone-comb that broke during the last raid we did in England and I'll even get you a new shield...just please teach me how to fight with an axe!"
Stopping dead in his tracks (or half tracks, Denmark was heavy to drag along) he considers the offer for a good while.
"Fine..."
Denmark jumps up in joy and before Norway can protest; the Dane has him in a tight hug – spinning around like a rag-doll.
"Thank you Norge! Thank you!"
"Idiot" he mumbles as he pushes Denmark's head away from himself, trying to pry himself out of the other Viking's terrifyingly strong grip around his waist "I didn't finish talking! I'll teach you, but you have to do exactly as I'm told, and you'll have to supply me with a winter's supply of mead."
Denmark only nods eagerly – his trademark grin only growing wider.
For a brief moment Norway wonders if he's going to regret this – but a new shield would be nice, and he needs a new comb – Iceland seems to have acquired lice from spending too much time playing with the animals.
-xxx-
Denmark's first lesson does not go very well.
In fact: it goes very, very wrong.
Clutching his bleeding foot with a pained expression, Norway sighs and helps Denmark bandage it.
"You miscalculated." he mumbles as he carefully washed the wound.
"I did not! This gust of wind came and it blew me off bala-" Denmark stops when he notices Norway's ice cold glare "All right, fine...I miscalculated! But it's so top heavy! And compared to my sword it's far too lightweight! What else am I supposed to do?"
Norway sighs again, flicking Denmark's forehead with his index finger.
"Stupid Dane, you need to develop a better balance – train them. And when you swing your axe, don't use your entire body, try focusing first on your arms, then gradually build up the momentum. You need to be able to withdraw just as quickly as you strike. The whole beauty of the axe is just that..."
Yanking the weapon away from the Dane, Norway runs his finger over the sharp blade, not even flinching as it draws blood.
"It's lighter than a sword, meaning you can draw it quicker in an emergency, yet because of it's iron head – it will have more weight on top, contrary to swords where the balance point is right at the top of the hilt."
His words slowly sink in, Denmark's brain churning gears as he considers his best friends words.
-xxx-
A week later Norway is satisfied he took on this task. Not only is Denmark to preoccupied with learning to fight with an axe that he's completely forgotten to start meaningless fights with Sweden; he's also doing a lot of firewood chopping to strengthen his arms and torso for proper battle movements.
Something that Norway is sure will start to show soon – all those hours cutting logs is bound to increase his muscles eventually – although the thought is terrifying. Norway isn't sure he'll like it if Denmark is even stronger than he already is.
However, he shrugs it off and goes back to sharpening his dagger.
-xxx-
It takes a grand total of two months before Denmark has the correct movements down. Another week to perfect his grip on the axe and 5 days to make it all flow nice and easy together.
Yet he's done it – Denmark now dances his way through the battlefield like a gust of wind.
Standing at the sidelines Norway smiles secretly to himself as he watched Denmark tear down a battalion of Irish soldiers as if they where mere toys.
Running his fingers over his new and freshly painted shield, he can't say he regrets the decision to teach Denmark. Not now anyway.
Runes of protection carved into the back – curtsey of both Denmark and Iceland – he has to thank them both later he thinks as he sends one Irish man flying to the ground with a swing of his shield.
Out of the corner of his eye something glints in the sun. Immediately his shield is thrust forward to meet the offending weapon – his arm tingling from the force of the clash.
"By Odin's remaining eye! Danmark?" he growls as he glares at the Dane.
"Sorry, wanted to test your reflexes" he laughs and pulls his axe out of Norway's shield.
Frowning, the shorter Nordic inspects the shield.
"You now owe me a new one" he states flatly as he poised his sword right under Denmark's chin.
"All right, all right...sorry about that. Lost in the moment."
"Don't let it happen again."
Denmark shakes his head and gives a loud laugh
"But these guys are so weak! At least you pose a challenge."
This makes Norway highly interested.
"Is that a challenge Danmark?"
"Maybe" The Dane laughs before swinging his axe towards Norway, no word of warning except a playful glint in his eyes.
Ducking under the swing he swings his word low, aiming for Denmark's legs – however, Denmark quickly back-steps and raises his axe once more.
Norway quickly drops down and rolls away from the impending force of the axe as Denmark sinks it deep into the earth where Norway was standing mere seconds ago.
"You're improving Danmark" he spits as he raises his sword and shield.
"Well you know – one of the best and most bloodthirsty vikings I know taught me the ropes"
The compliment makes Norway smile – but doesn't still his boiling blood.
For hours they exchange blows, clothes and weapons in taters by the end of it, returning to their boats with wide grins on both their faces – having to support one another as they walk.
Their men give them odd looks – but don't dare comment on it. They've seen how quickly the two nations seem to heal and are hardly worried about their health.
-XXX-
Sealand stares wide eyed at his uncle.
"Uncle Norway taught you to use the axe?"
Denmark grins and nods, taking a sip from his beer as he leans back in his chair – satisfied with how he's told the story to the young micro-nation.
"He sure did, although I was obviously a natural talent so I picked it up in less than a day"
Iceland makes a snorting noise from his spot on the sofa, causing Denmark to send a small glare his way. He's trying to look cool, and Iceland's snarky comments will not be helpful here.
The white haired nation gets the hint and continues reading his book.
The young micro-nation glances worriedly at the kitchen where Norway disappeared a while ago to make dinner.
"But he doesn't look that frightening..."
"Then you're lucky kiddo, Norway is terrifying when angry"
"More so than Papa?"
Denmark throws his head back and gives a hearty laugh.
"Much, much, much more terrifying that Sweden ever can hope to be. Sweden doesn't scare me, but Norway? Sure, don't ever deny him his morning cup of coffee."
Sealand nods eagerly, letting this new information slowly sink in.
"Do you..do you think he'll teach me too?"
"Dun'no" Denmark sips his beer thoughtfully "'s long as you promise not to ruin his house he might.."
Sealand beams with happiness before running into the kitchen, eager to learn something from one of histories most terrifying Vikings.
Denmark chuckles to himself before he's hit in the head with a sofa pillow.
"Oi, Ice...not cool."
"You still owe Norway a new shield..."
"Ah, so I do...and the mead...oops" He rubs his head, sheepishly smiling at the white haired nation who's staring at him with dull and lifeless eyes.
"Think Norway will forgive me if I supply him with beer instead?"
Iceland nods before going back to his book.
Getting up from the chair, Denmark makes his way to the kitchen, chuckling as he sees the other Nordic deep in conversation with the small micro-nation on how to properly swing an axe.
"Well well, teaching a new generation of fighters are we?"
Norway looks up at Denmark with a bored expression
"He promised he'll only practise in your garden..."
"Oh that's nic-WAIT WHAT?" Denmark takes pride in his garden and is not keen on letting Sealand trash it.
The tiny nation in question only smiles knowingly at Norway as they exchange a small fist-bump behind their backs while Denmark continues freaking out over the idea of his flowerbeds being ruined.
A.N:
I am not an expert on battle-axes, so inaccuracies on how to fight with them is bound to happen, however, hope this was still entertaining to read.
