September 21st. "Finn," Sweden nudged the boy awake and he rubbed is eyes groggily. "Let's go." Finn sat up, seeing that the older man had all their stuff packed up and ready to go. He struggled to his feet and threw on his leather tunic, grabbing is helmet in a rush. Sweden put his hand on the younger's shoulder, steadying him. He gave him his sword and gestured for them to follow the crowd of Vikings.

They trudged in silence for a good while and Finn worried about the next few days. He bit his lip in concentration and managed to trip over himself. Sweden caught him, looking down with worried, greenish blue eyes. Finn just shook his head, dismissing any worry the other may have and intertwined their fingers. "Sve, I still don't think we can do this but I know it'll be ok as long as you're alright." He mumbled quietly so as not to be heard by anyone, not even Sweden himself. Is efforts were for naught as the other man squeezed his hand a little tighter and looked at him once again.

"Don't worry." Sweden told him, his face showing no emotion at all. Finn didn't respond, wishing for the conversation to end, and to his fortune, it did. He took solace in the fact they had a few days if not a week before the real battle began. He tried to relax and enjoy his friend's company, though he seemed to be just as troubled.

Sweden pulled him along so they could catch up with Denmark and Norway, who were at the very front obviously. The Dane happily chatted with Norway, one arm around his shoulder as the other gestured with his axe. He pointed it at the sky and kissed the top of the grumpy man's head. Norway pointedly shoved him, though he didn't manage to get him off and pouted when Denmark laughed at his efforts.

Finn envied how they could be so carefree and relaxed; did they not understand how this was going to affect them? Or what was going to happen? Or did they know something Finn, Sweden and the rest of the men didn't? Finn really hoped it was the latter and that this was going to be an easy victory after all with an unnecessary build up. His violet eyes warmed at the thought and he even managed to smile a little bit.

"Norge, it's a beautiful day, wouldn't you say?" Denmark changed the subject from whatever he had previously been rambling about.

"I would say nothing like that you idiot." Norway rolled his eyes and finally managed to shove the arm off of him. He regretted their conversation from the previous night because it would seem the Dane took it was an invitation to be a clingy boyfriend.

"Oh come on, look, the sun might actually come out!" Denmark gestured to the sky again, though it was dull with grey clouds.

"Oh please, Denmark. Can we focus on the battle ahead of us? This isn't going to be easy." He sent a venomous glare at him, his voice low as not to alert anyone.

Denmark frowned and Norway bit his lip. "We talked about this." His blue eyes darkened as he glanced at Norway. He switched his axe to the shoulder next to Norway.

"I know, but think about it. This is England. He won't give up without a fight! You can't expect to just walk up to his army and watch him surrender!" He crossed his arms in a huff, watching his feet.

"If anyone can do this, it's gonna be me. I wouldn't put you in danger if I didn't know that!" His words were sweet but his tone was angry, as were his features. Norway didn't like upsetting his friend in such a way but he wasn't going to sugarcoat it; he wasn't as sure as Denmark. No one was, and Norway highly doubted his friend. Norway decided to be quiet before anyone heard them.

Long hours passed, one after another and another as silence fell over the four. Again, worries were each to their own and they all were lost in thought. Finally, the sun was almost below the horizon and they were all worn out. Denmark called for them to stop and set up camp for the evening. This evening's camp was a little more defined, tents set up in a large group. The tent Denmark and Norway shared was slightly further from the groups to keep watch on the road ahead.

Norway sat out front on the hard ground, knees to his chest with his face buried in his arms. He was tired, needless to say but he didn't want to go into the tent until he was sure the Dane was asleep. They still weren't getting along perfectly and he didn't want to face a potential fight. "Norge," Well that plan failed. He fell beside the smaller blonde. "It's cold out here."

"What's the point, Denmark?" He practically hissed his name, though it wasn't intentional.

"You should come inside, they next few days are going to be harder." Denmark looked in the direction they were headed with a heavy sigh.

"Regret it yet?" Norway whispered with spite. He refused to look at the Dane who scoffed in return, glaring at nothing in particular.

"Hell no. I won't tell you again, we are going to rule the world. I need you to trust me." Denmark stood up, seemingly uncomfortable. He crossed his arms in a huff shifting his weight from one foot to the other impatiently. Norway sighed, standing on his own. Without a word, he looked at Denmark and climbed into the tent. "Come on!" Denmark followed him, blocking the only way out. They both sat across from each other, staring intently in a moment best described as tense. "You can't keep running away from this Norway!"

"Excuse me? I don't think I've run away! I'm still here aren't I?" Norway glared fiercely, crossing his arms. Denmark averted his eyes slightly, unsure of what to say. It was Norway's turn to scoff and, grudgingly, he crawled over to Denmark. A soft smirk covered the Dane's face and he put his hand to the back of the smaller man's neck, crushing their lips together. A muffled squeak escaped Norway's mouth and he grumbled slightly.

Denmark closed his eyes and slipped his hands into the younger's shirt. "D-Den! We're at war! I don't think this is a good time!" Sex was definitely not a good idea at the moment; sleep was.

"Come on Norge, it's always a good time!" He sang sweetly, pushing the other man onto his back. He sat over him, hands on either side of his head; that grin on his face for the first time in hours. Norway couldn't help but smile a little, seeing his friend finally perk up. He pulled the Dane down to softly press their lips together. Denmark pressed his knee between his legs, slipping his tongue into the other's mouth with no resistance. His hand moved to pull down the Norwegian's pants, fumbling blindly as their tongues fought.

"Hmn" Norway managed, grabbing at his shirt. "N-No." he gasped, breaking their kiss for only a brief moment.

"Why not?" Denmark growled into his mouth, pausing for a moment before moving down to nip at his neck.

Norway bit back a moan. "Because… we have a long way to go tomorrow, and we're leading everyone! J-just no! You couldn't have chosen a worse time!" He gasped, realizing he was no longer wearing a shirt and the other was now sucking at his chest.

Denmark chuckled. "Of course I could have picked a worse time! I could have pinned you down in the midst of battle right?" He nibbled softly on his nipple and palmed him, smiling proudly as the other arched beneath him. He couldn't argue with logic right?

September 22nd, 23rd, 24th. These days passed, quicker than anyone would have liked and all of them were restless. It was the night of the 24th and they were at rest. Nothing special happened on the long, grueling trip and the next day they were to reach the bridge. This meant in the next few days, the war against England would begin and all they could do was hope they had the power to win.

Finally, the morning of September 25th, they began the ever tensing journey to Stamford Bridge. It really wasn't terribly far and they knew once they crossed it, there was no going back. Not at all. They were putting their lives into trusting Denmark. Silent hours passed as they marched on, all of them almost too afraid to speak.

And there it was. The bridge was in sight. It seemed clear enough, no one around. Norway looked at his friend; his grin was gone, replaced by angry determination. "Den, I know we can do this." He tried to be encouraging. His smile returned in an instant, tainted with evil.

"Let's bring England to his knees!" Denmark yelled, holding his battle axe high above his head in a victorious stance and his army yelled in support. Before any of them knew it, another army, highly outnumbering theirs was on the other side of the bridge, none other than a single sandy blonde front and center. "Oh you think so you, bloody prat? You ungrateful gits!" He yelled.

At that moment, they all had the same thought…. This is it.

~Wooo! Clichéd cliffhanger ending! One more chapter after this =) Here comes the drama! As always, reviews make me type faster!