Apologies for the long delay! RL has kept us very busy lately. There is just an epilogue left to this story, and that will be posted soon! Thank you so much for reading, especially those of you who left comments.

Chapter Summary: With Loki gone, Norway and Denmark search for the other nations and try to set things right. What they find surprises them - and for once, it's a nice surprise.

Ch. 29: The Smoke Clears

When Norway's eyes open, they're blue again. His head aches, but the pressure is gone. Denmark is with him, too, pressing their lips together in a sweet kiss. He returns it with just as much enthusiasm. He's so relieved that they're here and alive, that they have not lost themselves in this mess.

Denmark grips Norway's shirt, pushing him gently against the rock. His knees are weak and his body is hot, but this is all he could ever want. Finally, Denmark pulls away. He presses their foreheads together, saying nothing. For a moment they remain quiet, enjoying the privacy of their thoughts and recovering their internal balance.

The silence is broken by the pounding of heavy feet, and then a huge shadow blocks the cave entrance. Sweden peers in cautiously. He's carrying the bone knife he found outside, just in case he has to summon someone else or force the god out of his friend's body the bloody way. Removing the heart will remove the god, but he'd rather not go down that road again. "Lukas? Matt?"

Denmark sighs, his carefully disentangling himself from Norway. "Present. I think." He looks to Norway. "Present?"

Norway nods. "Yes." He reaches out to touch Denmark's face. "Thank you."

Outside, Hungary is waiting with all that remains of her potion, ready to throw it and give them all one more chance to get rid of Loki – no matter what that takes. Judging by the way Denmark and Norway are cuddled together, the coast is clear. She breathes a sigh of relief and steps inside, Finland trailing in behind her.

Now that the danger has passed, Finland takes a moment to openly stare at his husband in complete awe. Sweden is green, muscled, and mean-looking. Oh fuck, why is that turning him on so hard? He feels like he can't look away, his eyes sliding all over Sweden's body. When Sweden turns his head, he sees the earrings dangling from his pointed ears - and the tiny hole in his earlobe that's missing a ring. "Bernie?" he finally asks.

Sweden sucks in his breath, his heart thundering in his chest. There's no hiding his troll form now; not after all of this. He looks away from Finland, hoping to at least keep his face hidden. "Tino...m'sorry. I know I'm ugly. I never wanted y't'see. S'my fault."

"Bernie..." Finland says, his voice gravelly with no little lust. "What're the earrings for?"

Sweden ducks his head, more ashamed of those then any other part of himself. But he swore to himself he would be honest this time, about everything. "Battles and raids; one for every win. The one I lost...s'from when I claimed y'."

A strong shudder shoots down Finland's spine at those words, and his breath goes short. Oh. Dear. God. "Take me," he whispers, so turned on he can't stand it. "Take me right now."

Sweden blinks, surprised enough to turn around. "What?" Finland is flushed and making the kind of expression he only gets when Sweden's done something particularly worthy of lust - like clean the kitchen naked. "Y'want to...but Tino, I'm a troll!"

"You are the hottest thing I have ever fucking seen," Finland replies. Then he pounces, throwing Sweden back against the rock and wrapping his legs around his waist.

Norway eases himself off the rock and rolls his eyes. "Please do not defile my altar. Follow the path there into the back. It will protect you from the sun. Dawn's coming." Indeed, the moon has sunk low in the sky and there is a pale light just beginning to appear on the horizon.

Sweden grunts and carries Finland deeper into the cave, resolved not to question this most miraculous of gifts.

Norway sighs. His arm is starting to throb and there's blood all down his sleeve; it goes well with the ache in his head. He'd like nothing more than to curl up right here with Denmark, but he can't. People were hurt tonight, hurt because of him. Now he needs to fix them. "Come on, Matt. Let's play one more game. It's called 'make sure nobody died'."

"That's a boring game," Denmark replies. He relents anyway, taking Norway's hand and allowing himself to be led from the cave. They make their way across the yard, and when they reach the tree Denmark raises his eyebrows. The wolves are curled up at the roots, every one of them asleep. Turkey and Japan are nowhere to be found. "Huh. That can't be good."

Norway cautiously leans closer to the pack. There's a dart in one brown wolf's shoulder, the kind the hunters use. "It looks like help arrived. But I thought..." His brow wrinkles, bringing up a fuzzy memory that is only partially his own. "I think I turned one of them into a sheep." He glances at Hungary, wondering if she's seen anything.

Hungary is a bit busy watching Sweden and Finland together through her crystal ball. "Huh?" she blinks, looking up and hiding the ball in her sleeve. "Yeah, I, um. I think you did."

Norway looks between the wolves and the setting moon; the sun will help them control their beasts, but then he will have a pile of naked nations under his tree. Just perfect.

Denmark shrugs, heading for the house. He opens the door and steps inside, only to find... This can't be the same house. The floor is spotless, devoid of glass and blood. There are no bodies, no dents in the walls. The lights are on, the house looks cheery. There's not even a speck of dust.

Beside him, Norway's mouth drops open. This doesn't make any sense. One tonttu could not do all this in so little time, unless more time than he thought passed between his mental battle with Loki and Tino's return. "What on earth…?"

"Hush, mon ami. The wizard is sleeping."

Norway turns to the couch, where France is pulling a blanket over an exhausted England. His mind is far too tired for this. "When I left, you were unconscious and he was not here. Explain."

"When you left you were not yourself. Yet here we are." France smiles softly, smoothing hair away from England's face. The wizard looks peaceful, finally able to rest without fearing his dreams. France straightens and beckons the others to follow him. "Come to the kitchen; the rest of them are there, getting patched up."

As they follow, France continues to explain, "It seems Australia ran to his big brother when New Zealand became sheepish. Once the transfiguration was set to rights, they returned to help. Poor, dear Arthur; he hasn't slept in days, for fear of me."

"Oh, I believe that," Denmark chuckles, just barely ducking France's fist.

As they enter the kitchen, Australia is bundling New Zealand in a bathrobe emblazoned with a Union Jack. "Flamin' Hell, Z. You'll catch yer death!"

New Zealand shrugs. "No time to grab new clothes. I do miss the wool a little bit; it was nice and warm. Ugh...my stomach hurts. I think your phone is vibrating."

All around the room are recovering nations. Greece is sitting up at the kitchen table, still looking rather dazed. Japan forces him to keep eating and drinking a cup of juice, one tentacle gently caressing his hair. Behind them, Turkey is tucking about a dozen vampire kittens into the cabinets, where they can sleep for the day away from the sun's burning light. Poland and Canada occupy the other two kitchen chairs, the latter holding Poland's leg in his lap as he finishes off a set of bandages. Lithuania is on the floor beside them, resting his chin on Poland's lap.

When France leads Norway in, all of them look up and freeze. "It's alright," France says with that easy smile. "We're all ourselves again."

Norway shifts awkwardly, rubbing his injured arm. They're still looking at him. He should say something, try to explain. He just doesn't know where to begin. "Sorry about...everything. I never wanted to hurt any of you."

"Of course not! Look, nobody even died, so it all worked out!" Denmark throws an arm around Norway and drags him further into the room. The sky is turning a heavy pink as the sun rises. The night is done, the moon is fading away. "Man. What a night."

Lithuania whines in agreement, pressing his chin to Poland's thigh and closing his eyes. Canada smiles at the two of them, speaking softly. "I think we can all agree that the next step is a long nap."

"No kidding," Poland agrees, gently stroking his lover's hair. It seems to be getting longer under his fingers. "I have a question though. Well, a lot of questions, mostly centered around what the hell happened tonight. But more pressing, um, why am I not furry? Because, like," he gestures to his leg, "that's bad news, right?"

"Normally," New Zealand agrees, "but you're a fairy, right? It's your blood; it rejects the curse. That's why it smells so good to them."

Norway raises an eyebrow; even he didn't know that. Perhaps it is time they start talking about all of their supernatural quirks. Then they can work together to make sure nothing like this ever happens again.

"Awesome!" says Poland. "Hear that, Liet? I'll still be totally sexy! Not that it doesn't look good on you, of course, you're..." He looks down, and his mouth drops open. "...naked."

Lithuania is, indeed, naked. He's human again and asleep on Poland's thigh, looking so adorable that everyone turns to smile at him. Then a shriek echoes from the back yard. They all look toward the window to see Estonia and Latvia jumping from their place beneath the tree at the sight of Ukraine and Belarus, naked and blushing. Well, Ukraine is blushing. Belarus is brandishing a rather large branch.

Norway groans, France laughs, and Poland glares at anyone giving Lithuania a funny look. "We should...find some spare clothes. Or something," Norway sighs. A nap sounds so wonderful right now.

"Ah-ah, darling, allow us." France pulls out another chair and points to the first aid kit in Canada's hands. "Do make use of that. I am sure I can find something suitable, if you do not mind me looking through your closet. Though..." he glances out the window. "However will we find something to fit so much bosom? Nonsense! I am France, I can clothe anyone!" With that, he departs.

Greece stares between the naked nations, the kitty Turkey, and the tentacled Japan. He's very confused. "Am I dreaming?"

"It's alright, Hera-kun," Japan whispers lovingly, petting through Hera's hair with a tentacle and cuddling him close. "I think it's time we all took a nap." One by one, all the nations start to wander off for some rest, taking the liberty of borrowing Denmark and Norway's couches, beds, and various soft surfaces.

It's odd for Denmark and Norway to be alone now, but at least the first-aid kit gives Denmark something to do with his hands. He pops it open, pulling out some antiseptic, butterfly closures, and bandages. He takes Norway's arm and cleans the knife wound. "You didn't have to do that, you know," he says softly.

"It was all I could think of," Norway replies, staring out the window. "He was going to kill you; I couldn't let him do that."

"Eh, I could take him." Denmark says with a grin, knowing it's a blatant lie. Well, not completely. He could have taken Loki on, but at the risk of hurting Norway? He never would. Never. He stretches the butterfly closures over the wound, making sure they're secure before he wraps it in bandages. It's the most careful thing he's done in a long time.

Norway grabs Denmark's hand and squeezes it, finally looking him in the eye. "Mattias. He would have killed you, and you knew it. You came for me anyway. That...that means a lot."

Denmark is silent for a moment as he holds Norway's gaze, trying to show as much of his heart as he can. For all his bravado, he's a fragile thing when it comes to Norway. A very fragile thing. He looks down at their hands, joined together tight. "You should've known I would. I'd never leave you, Luk. Not even if you wanted me to."

The corners of Norway's mouth quirk up. Denmark has certainly proved that to be true more than once. But sometimes (all the time, really), Norway realizes that he wouldn't leave, either. "I know. I love you too."

That little smile makes Denmark smile back. He leans in, kissing Norway's mouth one more time. This time it's slow, easy, and content. It makes him feel lighter. Norway loves him, and that's worth everything.