AN: The 17. Of May is just the perfect day for updating this story. To any fellow Norwegians out there: 'Gratulerer så mye med dagen.'

I wish I had gotten to the 1814 chapter to celebrate the constitution day properly since it's the 200. year anniversary, but that is not the case. I'm sorry for my slow updating; exams are close, so I'll be busy out the first week of June, but on the bright side, I might have started to recover from my slump^^.

Hannibalfeiden 1643-1645

1644

To say that Norway furious, was a serious understatement. He had rarely been more enraged in his life than he was at this moment and he was seconds away from throwing one of the commandants out of the nearest window in a fit of pure fury.

"We should never have been a part of this war in the first place" he snarled angrily as he threw aside several maps from the table so the fluttered away in every direction possible and scattered across the room. "The army we have has been capable of keeping the Swedes at bay and stopping them from taking over any land. We were ordered to launch an attack from our position and keep the Swedes busy so they can't focus solely on Denmark, but if we leave for the south to defend Denmark then we will be left completely open. It's as good as an invitation for Sweden to invade."

"We cannot ignore a direct order!" Hannibal Sehested, king Christian's son-in-law snapped back. He tried gathering up some of the papers again and carefully ignored the death glare that Norway was sending in his direction. "We will do as the king commands, Denmark needs our help."

"You have no idea" Norway muttered under his breath and the general lifted an eyebrow at him in annoyance at the remark.

Norway remembered back a few months, to the time when they had first heard news of war. They had received a letter that Sweden, under the lead of General Lennart Torstenson had launched a surprise attack on Denmark from the south. It was not that Norway was really surprise to hear that. He had almost been waiting for something like that to happen ever since Denmark brought back again the sound dues of Øresund.

Sweden had been doing well so far and now Denmark's fleet had come in to trouble. King Christian had sent orders to General Hannibal and asked for the Norwegian fleet to back them up in an attack they had been planning to push the Swedes back.

Norway was angry because their forces had been planning an attack against Sweden of their own and from their own land. But Christian's orders made that impossible and would have most of their fighters going on ships to the south instead, leaving the borders vulnerable for an attack from the Swedes.

He didn't doubt for a single second that Sweden would take advantage of the situation. If they went to the south, then they were as good as guaranteed to lose land to the Swedish forces and Norway was not happy to leave his lands behind and not be able to fight for it. But Hannibal was not about to ignore the king's orders and he would be left with no choice but to go.

The General was thoughtfully scratching his mustache and beard. "I can tell you that I'm not too happy about this plan either" he said and genuinely seemed saddened. "I have put a lot of effort into launching an assault and now we will never happen. But if we don't go, the fleet will most likely be destroyed."

Norway grumbled angrily, but not loud enough for any of the commanders to catch the curses he came up with and aimed at them, the king and at a certain personification. He knew there was no use in arguing with them at all. It was moments like this when he hated being bound in a union. Things had not being going their way in any of the wars they had been involved in lately and now his need were being put second as their fortune in war was gone and he wasn't free to do what was best for himself.

Denmark still refused to tell him what had happened when he had gone to Lübeck 15 years ago to discuss the terms for peace. The only thing he had mentioned was that the sounds taxes would be brought back and that their part in the 30 years war was over. If Norway tried asking about what had happened, Denmark would immediately change the subject and grew annoyed if Norway pursued the matter.

"When do we set sail?" Norway asked.

"Tomorrow morning" Hannibal answered sharply. "So you better get packing."

The chair screeched angrily against the floor when Norway stood up abruptly to leave the meeting. He marched over to the door, tore it open and slammed it shut behind him with way more force than necessary when he was out. Hannibal was probably sighing at his childish behavior, but at the moment Norway could not care less.

If Denmark was alive and well by the time they made it south, Norway was seriously considering the option of bashing the man's head against a wall just to tell him exactly what he thought about the king's commands. This was not a war the Norwegian people were interested in taking a part of, but nobody cared to listen to their opinions.

His own general was no better. The man refused to ignore a direct order from the king. To Norway this was more Hannibal's war, not one for his people[1].

The joined fleet of Denmark-Norway was anchored up just outside of Femern. Or some of them were at least. They had snatched up a report that the Dutch fleet would not join up with the Swedish one for the winter and so they had been ordered to intercept any ships sailing between Sweden and Wismar. It should be an easy task and therefore only 17 ships were sent out.

Denmark felt uneasy standing on deck on Patentia, one of the ships. It had turned out that the information they had come by was wrong. The fleet sailing in their direction consisted of both Swedish and Dutch ships and they numbers were over twice as many as their own fleet had. It wouldn't take long for the enemy fleet to be within firing distance and they had to quickly make a plan of action.

He stared down at his armor. It was worn out after several long battles. When he first got it, it had been shining brightly in the sunlight and made him look unbeatable. But now the shine was gone and scratches were crossing over the metal after many long battles. It reflected well how Denmark was feeling.

Norway was standing by his side, like in all the other battles after the king had ordered Hannibal to send his men to join the fleet. The Norwegian had been silent for a very long time and constantly staring out in the empty air without a readable expression.

Denmark had tried gaining his attention by starting a conversation, but was constantly being ignored or only answered with a hum or a shrug. He knew Norway was angry with him, but he hadn't really had a choice if he wanted to get through the war alive.

"Our ships have more firepower that Sweden's ships do" Denmark muttered trying to get yet another conversation started. He couldn't make the words sound hopeful at all.

Norway finally turned to face him, but Denmark became nervous when he saw the slightly narrowed eyebrows and dull eyes. "That doesn't help when the enemy has twice as many ships" Norway remarked coldly. "Hand me the binoculars will you."

Denmark did as ordered. "What is it?"

Norway scouted towards the Swedish fleet. "I'm trying to figure out what Sweden is planning. He should have positioned the ships to put us under fire by now, but still he is not. And from what I can see there are soldiers on board and that means he plan to board us. If he does, then we are in trouble. Our ships are undermanned; we can't defend them if we're boarded."

Denmark nervously paced the deck and chewed on his lower lip. They were not prepared for this. The letter said the Dutch would stay behind in their own land all of winter. This was supposed to be an easy task, just guarding the coast.

The ship's admiral, Pros Mund was pacing back and forth as well. The fleet would have time to move away from the approaching ships if they wanted to, but the orders from the king specifically said not to escape and defend the country at any cost. Fleeing would cost the admiral his life if he returned to land and so the men had been ordered to prepare the fleet for assault.

The last commander to fail in battle had been executed only a few day prior to them leaving for patrol and he knew that the same would be in store for him should he fail. So now all the men on board were running about on deck, preparing for battle by loading cannons and getting ammunition ready.

Mund stopped his pacing and approach Denmark and Norway at the ships helm. "I might have a plan" he started nervously. "There is a gap between the enemy ships; we can use that to cut the Dutch help fleet off from the rest and leave the Swedes with less support." He pointed out the gap he was talking about.

"That's a bold move" Norway commented without much enthusiasm. "There is a high risk of failing."

"Since we can't flee, we might as well do as much damage as we can" Denmark said eagerly. "They won't expect a move like this; they probably thought we would sail away since they have the wind against them. We can take them by surprise."

Admiral Mund turned around barked orders for the men and the ship changed direction, aiming to cut off the Dutch support fleet. The seas were choppy and had not yet calmed after an earlier storm, so the ship rocked heavily over the waves.

Their plan seemed like it would work, but then the wind changed to the advantage for the Swedes and the smaller ships could keep up with the admiral's ship and got caught by the enemy. The thunder of several cannons was about the only sound they could hear. There was also the occasional barking of orders that managed to make it through the thundering of cannon fire.

Denmark was clutching the railings of the ships until his knuckles turned white. The Swedish flagship, Smålands Lejon was approaching fast. The men had given up on loading the cannons and were instead arming themselves with swords and pistols.

Norway had been gone under deck for a few minutes, but now he returned with Denmark's old battle axe. Like his armor, the axe had seen better days. It had been honed before they set out and sharp enough to split a hair, but there were still old scratches in the metal. The Norwegian handed it over and Denmark accepted it. The wooden handle had been polished by years of use and even though the axe had seen better days, it was comforting to hold it in his hands.

"Brace for impact!"

The Swedish ship almost hit them head on and the woodwork creaked in protest as the two vessels crashed against each other. The ship cringed to the side and everyone onboard struggled to keep steady on their feet until the vessel steadied again.

Norway drew his sword and frowned silently at the enemies aboard the other ship. "So it begins" Norway muttered when the Swedes started throwing the first hooks over the railing to keep the ships from floating apart.

The soldiers were swarming over the side of the Swedish ship to board the Danish one. Norway rushed off to fight, following the lead of Mund. Denmark stayed behind by the helm ready to defend it.

With a great roar the two forces crashed together in a violent and bloody battle. The screams of injured and dying men almost drowned out the sounds of cannons from the other ships engaged in combat.

Denmark could feel the old bloodlust wake to life as he fiercely swung the axe around and sent one of the attackers overboard with a crushed ribcage.

Then out of nowhere came Sweden. Clad in dark blue, and with murder written all over his features. He didn't wear armor like Denmark, but still the Dane felt exposed and vulnerable standing alone, face to face with the Swede.

Sweden didn't waste any time and lunged directly at him. Metal sung against metal as Denmark blocked the incoming blow. He wasn't quick enough to stop the next one and the sword struck him in the arm with enough force to crack the plated armor.

He was barely capable of holding back a groan of pain as his arm burned from the impact. Sweden seemed to notice anyhow and took great pleasure in watching him in pain and his piercing stare was gleaming triumphantly.

Denmark angrily made a wide swing with his axe in hopes to force Sweden a bit back and gain some room to maneuver better, but it wasn't all that effective. This time when the Swede swung the sword it grazed his armor. And Denmark thought to himself that it was yet another scratch added to the collection along with all the others.

"You're becoming slow Denmark" Sweden commented coldly and gracefully stepped aside from another of Denmark's desperate slashes. "You have no chance of winning this battle, why don't you just give up already and we can limit losses on both sides."

Sweden hacked furiously at him and Denmark struggled to keep up with the vicious blows. With hatred as fuel, Sweden was stronger than ever and he managed to break through Denmark's defenses. His sword found a weak spot in the plated armor on his leg and cut through clothes and flesh with little resistance. Denmark stumbled backwards and almost fell over when his leg protested against his weight and it felt like fire was shooting up his veins.

Then his back hit the railing and he could step back no further. He was trapped in a corner and in the distance on deck he caught a glimpse of Admiral Mund fighting fiercely even though he was outmanned and badly injured.

"I refuse to give up" Denmark growled angrily.

"You're so stubborn" Sweden grumbled, "Stubborn and foolish like always. Why can you never realize when you have already lost?" He raised the sword above his head, ready to deliver a fatal blow.

But the sword never struck its intended target.

Norway had appeared and blocked the Swede's strike. He had picked up a second blade somewhere and he hissed angrily as he used one to block Sweden's blade and used the other to swing at him and force him backwards, further away from Denmark.

"I had wondered where you were hiding" Sweden said venomously.

From where he was sitting slumped by the railing, Denmark didn't have a good view of what was happening. All he could see was that Sweden and Norway were swinging at each other in a storm of metal. The metal clang as they went at each other in a deadly dance.

At first they seemed evenly matched, but slowly and surely, Sweden was getting the upper hand and Norway was forced back. He had increasing trouble dodging the blows and was moving slower as he was drained of energy.

Denmark tried to use the railing as leverage to get back up so he could intervene even though his injured leg protested greatly and he almost fell back.

With a strike of luck Sweden missed a step when the ship cringed and he stumbled backwards. He fell with one knee to the ground and only just managed to use one hand to block a blow from Norway who had a greater balance.

Denmark then saw Sweden's other hand move to a small knife he had in his belt. He was about to cry out a warning for Norway but was too late. With the speed of wind Sweden's snatched up the blade and aimed right at Norway who hadn't noticed the danger until the blade was sticking out of his side.

With eyes wide in shock he staggered backwards and pulled out the blade. He stared as blood seeped through the leather armor and down the knife in his hand.

Sweden got up and got a better hold of the longsword again ready to make another assault.

Then there was a deafening thunder, louder than any blast from a cannon and a warm pressure wave came at them along with a flash of red light that seemed to light up the entire sky around them.

Denmark's mouth fell open. One of the ships had exploded and woodwork was flying everywhere. The remains of the ship, Lindormen was alight and barely afloat. A fire ship had run into it and now men were out in the sea, screaming in pain and horror as they fought against the water.

Sweden had much less fascination with the event than the two of them did and towered over them both, sure of his victory. He did not look like he was about to show anyone mercy.

Norway had not yet recovered from the knife to his side and was unable to do anything. So without any resistance Sweden approached Denmark and knocked the axe out of his hands with a swift strike of the sword. Denmark did not have the strength to hold on to the weapon. His arm was aching where Sweden had hit him earlier and throbbing angrily.

Norway yelled out in horror as he watched as Sweden grabbed a hold of Denmark and pushed him over the railing. He heard the splash as he landed in the water below them.

Sweden turned towards him. "You're next" he snarled.

Norway glared back and before Sweden had time to move over to him he jumped overboard to follow where Denmark had disappeared, not willing to give Sweden the pleasure of throwing him overboard himself.

The water hit him with such force it almost knocked the breath out of him and the salt water burned when it reached the wound his side. Sweden would not follow them here, but Denmark was nowhere to be seen. Norway figured the heavy plate mail was probably weighing him down.

He looked back up towards the ship's helm where he had been standing moments before only in time to see Sweden turn his back on them.

Norway drew a deep breath and dived, if he wanted to get Denmark out of the sea he would have to be quick. The rough seas were dark and visibility was minimal, but he could notice a dark red coat quickly heading towards the deep and aimed for it. He got a hold of the fabric and his lungs were screaming for air as he struggled to get them both the surface.

Denmark was knocked out and his heavy clothing made it difficult to keep him afloat. Norway unclasped the cloak and let it swirl with current and disappear below them. The cold water made his fingers numb, but still he managed to undo the straps keeping the plate armor in place and that joined the cloak in the deep.

Even if he had gotten rid of some of the weight it was still heavy to keep the other nation afloat. They were lucky enough that a piece of driftwood came by. He more or less managed to balance the Dane on the floating piece of wood and the heavy male finally started to regain consciousness, coughing up salt water and wheezing for air.

"Where are we?" he asked weakly in confusion and looked around.

"On what remains of one of our ships" Norway muttered darkly. He pointed to the writing on the piece of driftwood they were clutching on to. The dark letters spelled out 'Lindormen.'

"What about our ship?" Denmark asked.

They hadn't drifted far away from the ship the Swedes had just boarded. They looked up just in time to see Admiral Mund being tossed overboard. He had been stripped of his clothing and honor and hit the water with a sickening splash right before their eyes.

"He refused to give up" Norway commented and kicked off with his feet so they could start drifting towards land and further away from the still fighting ships.

Around them the battle drew to an end and it was utter devastation for the Danish-Norwegian fleet. Two ships had made it away from the battle unscathed but were sailing away with 4 Swedish ships in close pursuit. One ship was completely destroyed. Some others had been steered to land so the men could escape. The rest had been captured by the Swedish and Dutch forces.

Norway climbed up on the driftwood and helped Denmark up sit beside him. They would just have to wait to hit land; neither of them was in any shape to swim for land. The enemy forces showed no interest in them.

Denmark glanced at the other and noticed how blood was creating a discolored stain on Norway's clothing right where Sweden had struck him. "You're bleeding" he said with worry lacing his voice.

Norway refused to meet his eyes. "I told you I would lose land to this war."

"I'm sorry" Denmark muttered. He felt guilty for not being able to protect them both from their enemies.

"What's done is done" Norway said emotionlessly.

With that their conversation ended. They drifted on in silence.

1645

Norway waited by the window of the castle. He knew that Denmark would return at any moment. He had been attending the meeting in Brömsebro where he had met up with Sweden. Netherland and France of all people had been appointed as negotiators as they discussed the terms for peace.

Slow, but heavy footsteps made him aware of Denmark's presence in the room. "So how did it go?" Norway asked without turning back to face him. He kept his gaze firmly on the sky outside.

"You won't get the land back" Denmark muttered weakly. "And the sound taxes are gone… again, this time for good I think. I didn't exactly have much to bargain with. We just had to accept the terms they gave us."

"I expected no less" Norway replied dryly. He unconsciously moved one hand over his side. The wound had mostly healed, but the scar was still clearly visible and often burned as a reminder of the devastation at Femern where their defeat in the war became obvious. "Will the fleet guarding outside the capitol disappear in the nearest future?"

Denmark nodded even if Norway couldn't see and stepped up beside him. He grasped the hand Norway held over his side where the scar was located and held it firmly between his own two hands and ran his fingers gently over the cold knuckles, trying to bring some warmth back into them. "It's not like we have the power to fight them off anymore. Sweden is now the ruler of the Baltic Sea; at least that's what they call him now." The words were bitter, but no less true.

"So what do we do now? Norway asked and finally turned his head to look him in the eye.

"I don't know" Denmark answered honestly and shook his head. He didn't have the strength to even lie at this moment and Norway would see through him even if he tried. "I have no idea."

[1] In most of the world, this war is known as the 'Torstensson War' after the Swedish General Lennart Torstensson. The Norwegians did not want to take part in the war, but the Danes cared little about their opinion when Denmark was seriously threatened, so in Norway this war is known as 'Hannibalfeiden' or 'the Hannibal War' after their General, Hannibal Sehested.