Yes, I'm late with the update, I know I know! But I've been stuck in Germany for four days without internet! I finally arrived in Italy two days ago and was first now able to get internet access. So it's not technically *my* fault this update is late D:

As ever, thanks for all those who favourited and alerted this fanfic! Geeze, judging from all the spam I get when someone favourites/alerts fanfics, I think there's over twenty alerted now :3 Wee, it's so fun when you like what I write ^^

Ve~ Enjoi!

Norway was shivering and glaring... that was all he could do in his current state. But, he was up for a fight, to his last air intake! He would never submit to that filthy abomination! He would fight for Denmark, Sweden and Finland. He would fight for Sealand – though he hadn't known him for long... but most of all, he would fight for Iceland. Eysteinn, his brother.

Unfortunately, Gilbert had been tormenting others for millenniums. This... while valiant, was nothing more than a temporary setback. He sauntered back to his uniform jacket, rummaged through a pocket, to find a three meter long rope. He turned to face his captive, absently running the length between his pale fingers, he stalked around Norway in a slow, wide arch. Never entering the kicking range.

"I do wonder," he mused aloud, steadily moving behind the Norwegian. How do you plan on kicking me when I'm behind you?" Without waiting for a reply or realisation, he darted forward and pressed his chest to the other's back, the chain looping across the front of Norway's ankles. He swiftly looped it twice, no doubt without a fight, but yanked hard to pull them tight.

No matter how much Norway squirmed, the Norwegian's legs were now secure. His slender body was shaking with anger and, although it wasn't apparent... with fear. He closed his eyes shut and wowed that he would not let his tormenter take his heart. He would rather die from pain, but he would never be defeated by sheer brutality. Treasured moments, forever immortalized, started to reply before his inner eye: Finland's constant happiness and easygoingness, Sweden's gentleness, Denmark's constant bugging and Island's hand in his own. It looped over and over again, until he could almost hear Denmark's voice asking him to go with him to the pub...

Now more safely secured, the albino straightened up and walked back around to the front. "I will admit, my respect for you grows by the second." Gilbert was genuinely impressed. It was rare for him to encounter valiance and courage of this kind... but was it real courage or was it fear...? Getting close once more, the psychotic ex-nation returned to his position before his captive, and put his hands on Norway's chest. ... thump thump... thump thump... "Give it up. Open up for me and you're free. Free."

Norway's eyes opened immediately, and he tensed. Free? Free to go? Free to race back and warn the others... save his friends from torture and death. Only a moment after did he realise, that it was surely an empty promise. But, he had noticed, hope is so hard to kill. "You will... let me go?" he asked quietly, watching the other's expression, trying to sense if Gilbert had meant what he had said. "If I comply, I'm free to go...?"

"Submit to me," Gilbert hissed in reply, "and the chains come off and I step back. No strings attached..." He slid is arms around Norway's neck again and brought their faces so close their noses almost touched. He could see the Norwegian having a hard time by the look in his eyes.

The close proximity didn't bother him as much as it should at this moment. Gilbert's crimson red eyes were staring into his own blue, and he could see the albino was being honest. But still... this didn't make any sense. "Why?" he pressed, feeling the confusion cloud his mind. "To make me feel worse? Torture me, taint me?"

"You look into things far too deeply," Gilbert breathed in return. "If you aren't up for this, I will leave you hanging here and go kill your Nordic friends. The choice is yours, Norwegen, and I don't have all day."

Something shifted between them again. The atmosphere became less... tense and more... ah, it was so hard to describe. Norway had never felt anything like this before, not with Denmark, not with Iceland... not with Sweden or Finland. Suffice to say it didn't feel as if Norway was in the desert anymore, it felt as if the two of them were stuffed inside two bubbles. And they were floating effortlessly in the air, the only thing separating them was the transparent, soapy substance.

Triumph; it was a feeling that as of the past few weeks Gilbert had felt very little of. No matter how many humans he killed, he never felt as though he were winning anything, but now... at last he was getting what he wanted. The albino had gained a little purchase in the ever sickening world that was his mind, for here, he was in control.

Now, he could how Norway's mental barriers were already removing layers and layers of protection. And judging from the Norwegian's confused expression; he had never done anything like this. A tiny malicious smirk tugged at the corners of his lips. He was Norway's first... wasn't that cute? He brought their chests even closer together as he stripped away his own layers of defence without any difficulties. Feeling Norway's heart in such a state felt almost euphoric... "Now who's the whore?"

"You," Norway replied immediately before turning his head away. What was he supposed to do now? He could feel Gilbert calling for him, wanting to comfort him... but Norway had no idea how to proceed, and no doubt the ex-nation had noticed. But, to Norway's defence, baring his most sacred possession to an enemy wasn't what he did on a regular basis...

Gilbert's patience was a paradox; when on missions, he could sit in the precise same spot for days and never move or be bothered in the slightest. But then there were days in which five seconds to receive information from one of his soldiers was five seconds too fucking long. Here, Gilbert was slowly losing his patience for Norway to get ready. He knew how it was to be young and inexperienced, and knew that bullying the Norwegian at this point would only make his goal skitter farther away.

However, when he noticed the younger nation hesitate, how could Gilbert refuse the silent plea for help? At least to his twisted mind, Norway was calling for his aid. And he was so happy to oblige. He gently trailed his fingers up against Norway's chest, watching in satisfaction as small hairs rose, and continued to trail his fingertips up against Norway's neck... slowly, slowly... he placed a hand under Norway's chin and gently turned the Norwegian to look him into his eyes. He could see fear in those blue eyes... but it wasn't a fear for his life, it was fear of the unknown. Without hesitating, Gilbert closed the distance between them, his lips pressed against Norway's.

Norway stiffened immediately, and was so distracted by the albino's tongue that he for a moment forgot where he was. Sure, he had been kissed a lot in his days, most of them given by Denmark when he wanted to tease the Norwegian. But those kisses were never more than a peck, their lips barely touching. It was nothing like this, so full of passion... and longing. He was fascinated and slightly scared at the same moment. Nevertheless, it didn't stop Gilbert's tongue from entering his mouth. Norway felt chills racing up and down his back and shuddered slightly as the albino ran his pale hands through the Norwegian's blonde hair.

Again, something shifted. He could see Gilbert sitting on the other side of the bubble, his hand eagerly outstretched towards the only fragile soapy wall that kept them apart. Norway felt his own hand stretch out towards the ex-nation. It felt weird. Gilbert was the enemy, enemy, he had killed his brother in cold blood... yet it was so... peaceful. And his emotions were warring again, making him craving the other's embrace. Suddenly, the tip of his forefinger touched the bubble, and it burst.

It was just a tiny touch, but it was there, the slight burst of feeling that rushed through his veins and left him tingling. Gilbert supposed the Norwegian was right; being an ex-nation, without a land and boss in a world that was constantly changing, made it difficult for him not being a whore. The albino was accustomed to being exposed, so it didn't bother him, especially now when he had power over the situation. Most he didn't. Russia, on more than one occasion, forced him along into this, but it was never peaceful. It was forceful, it was violent and it, more often than not, hurt like a bitch. But there was also pleasure there, which kept Russia coming back for more.

Norway stared at Gilbert. There was no transparent wall between them anymore... then, Gilbert spread out his arms towards him with a face that revealed nothing. It was impossible to hold back anymore. Norway threw himself into Gilbert's embrace. The heat from the contact... it spread out, first warming up his chest, then his entire body. Norway could feel himself whining for more, more contact, more touching, more of something familiar. As if the hearts, belonged to a bigger whole, and they would have wanted to unit. They searched for each other, and who was the Norwegian to say no to their wordless plea...?

Gilbert felt Norway respond more and more to his kisses, kissing him fiercely back as he desperately tried to arch his secured body closer to him. Gilbert let go of Norway's face and instead put them around his slender neck, bringing them closer together, encouraged by the occasional moans and whimpers that escaped the Norwegian's mouth. Their bodies were mashed together so tightly that barely air could even get through. His teeth claimed Norway's lower lip and gently pulled and nibbled in a slightly distracted manner.

Norway mewled and instinctively tried to pull his arms around Gilbert's neck, except they were still held secured by the chain. He tried once more to pull them free, but it was for nothing. He continued to respond hungrily to everything Gilbert did, wanting more... craving more. Then... what the hell was he doing? This should have been so good, so sweet... but it was. He could feel himself curling up against Gilbert inside the bubble, sobbing freely with the loss, throbbing with guilt, begging for consolation. He couldn't mind the teeth anymore, couldn't mind the touches, couldn't mind who there were. His mind, at least the logic part of it, was pushed back, and his very soul came forth. And the soul only cared for the pain it wanted to be eased.

Gilbert's heart was heavy with its own pains and powers, its own battle scars and emotional wounds that he'd received and buried over the years. Having such a long life was both a blessing and a curse, for it allowed plenty of time for both pains and pleasures. Gilbert's heart did not move away but offered no resistance to the other as it curled against Norway. For him, too, it didn't matter who they are. They all came from the same place and their souls relished this feeling of familiarity. The albino stroked the other, hushing it, telling its own tales of pain that reflected a haunting similarity to the loss Norway felt, ones that could be lived past.

And it all progressed from there. Bodies ground against each other, one pale like snow, the other golden like the sun. Moans broke forth from their mouths; shivers ran through them, further chasing them towards the edge of bliss. Their souls and hearts felt to merge into one, both offering pain and joy alike and indeed, when shared, grief and sorrow halved, while the joy doubled. Norway felt his cheeks flush and his breath turn shallow. It felt so strange, so different... but so real. It was more real than anything he had ever felt. Then, he could feel his body stiffen as waves of pleasure rolled over him. It wasn't like anything he had ever imagined.

It was hard to imagine that this sort of thing felt so nice. It was supposed to be universal but somehow, even Russia could twist something as sacred as this into a violent weapon bent for pain rather than pleasure. Gilbert willingly contributed to the vocal expressions of pleasure, hands roving where they may for his mind was no longer in power. The Norwegian body still held secure, stiffened in his hold and Norway screamed, so delicious, tipping the albino into his own explosion of sensation.

The moment of perfect unison occurred – it felt as if it lasted for long hours – and passed slowly, as the sea pulls back after the tide. A few shivers ran over Norway's body, then he felt his strength leave his body and he collapsed in his chains. All his energy was finally drained... and it took a few moments for him to let go of Gilbert's embrace and crawl slowly over to his own bubble. His eyes were closed and he could only hear his shallow breathing.

The ex-nation stepped back from his prisoner and stumbled over to the opposite side of the cave for support. His heart was sealed away faster and more experienced in what he was doing, but that wasn't exactly by choice of course. He was still feeling tingly and a shiver ran down his spine now and then, his breathing was shallow and irregular, but he slowly calmed. He glanced over at his captive, hanging limp in his restraints with his eyes closed. He was perfectly defenceless at the moment. So fragile and vulnerable.

Gilbert studied the Norwegian that he'd spent all night tormenting. The same man he had just united with; whose pain and pleasures he had shared and who had thusly also experienced his own. He deliberated and pondered if he wanted to indeed go through with his word... there were pros and cons to both. Keeping Norway here would not surprise the blonde, but letting him go...

When Norway finally regained his senses, he was supine on his back in the sand, free of restrains, the only source of light was a pale and white beam. He winced a little, noticing the still lingering traces of pain in his arms, and then tried to look around. However, it was dark, and the beam didn't provide enough light for him to see anything but dark outlines in the cave. For a few moments, Norway felt puzzled – what had happened...? But then, everything came back in a rush. His first thought was, that Gilbert was still here, and that he should run for it. Norway struggled to get up, his arms sore and stiff from the rough treatment, and he scurried backwards until his back hit the cave.

Then, the why matched up – the macabre death of his brother, the pain he felt, the grief, the guilt, they all flared up... and then fell back, like disturbed water into the pond, creating rings on the surface, as the final part clicked into place – he had united with Gilbert. He curled up, drawing his knees to his bare chest and embracing them He learned much from that unification.

He had learned that, while Gilbert had indeed been stationed at Birkenau as per rumours, he had been ordered to do it by Germany's boss and hadn't wanted to. It had been a useless scare tactic and show of brutality – as far as Gilbert felt, it was a waste of time and his energy. The other stories were also, for the most part, fake... except for the ones he told of killing the human female and his offspring. That was true. But he had regretted it later and still, to this day, was not sure why he had done it.

Gilbert watched his captive quietly from the other side of the cave. Norway looked up, into red eyes. His own blue were filled with confusion – and Gilbert had a vague idea why. The ex-nation got a good look at the Norwegian's memories. How the black plague killed off two thirds of his population, how frightened he was at first, and what a relief Denmark's guidance provided. He saw real courage in the nation, shining brightly, and how his emotionless personality was the result of Denmark handing him over to Sweden for a piece of Gilbert's land while Iceland stayed behind. It had truly broken the Norwegian's heart, and had rebelled against Sweden to gain his own independence. Though he now had his own boss, and was an independent nation, he could still never forgive Denmark. He could also see a deep bond between Norway and Iceland, a deep bond so suddenly and violently severed. Norway's pain was still fresh and sharp. And yet, as he regarded the hated nation staring back, he couldn't help but to feel more pity for him, than anger.

"What have you done to me..." Norway whispered and curled up even more.

"I made you see." The answer itself was cryptic, and yet, there was some sense to it. Now Norway understood that there was no right or wrong, only pain. The albino was stranded on Earth – hell, he wouldn't even be getting paid for his centuries of years of hard fucking work.

"You saw, too, didn't you?" the Norwegian didn't make any attempts to get up. "You know." He shook his head. "We shouldn't have done this. Why weren't you heartless? It would be so much easier now..."

"Yes, I saw." Gilbert moved from his spot, stepping into the pale moonlight. "And we are never heartless no matter how much hatred and pain we harbour."

"You know what I mean!" Norway shrieked. "Why can't I honestly hate you now? You murdered my brother in cold blood and I feel for you! This shouldn't have happened!" He inhaled so fast the air stuck and he was thrown into a coughing fit. He was starting to feel dizzy.

"Hm," Gilbert replied and walked nonchalantly past his captive. His shirt in place, his uniform jacket over his shoulder. "And yet," he said. "I doubt you would say no if presented with the opportunity..." he turned on his heel, facing his former captive with a smirk. "... To do so again, Håvard."

At that, Norway rose and gazed up at his tormentor, his expression a lot more solemn. "Neither would you." Norway had figured Gilbert had learned his name through the union. And he wasn't sure just how much the albino had learned about him... but it was probably as much as he had learned about Gilbert.

A dark chuckle echoed in the cavern. "No. I wouldn't."

"And what will you do now?" Norway demanded. "Carry on with the plan?"

"Well now, that depends..." Gilbert continued his way out of the cavern. It was slightly chilly in the desert, but it was nothing he couldn't endure. "On whether or not you stop me."

"You know that if I get out of here, I will stop you."

Gilbert looked around, and found what he was looking for. A dark horse had been brought to him. "I think you have less of a chance at stopping me out there than you do right here and now," he smirked. "But you won't touch me." He took the red reigns of the horse in his hand.

Norway followed him out and watched, his turn to smile. "Neither would you."

"That's right. So here we are, stalemate, a draw; with Denmark's life at stake, or mine." Gilbert tilted his head to the side. "Problem is... death is not high on my list of concerns. Nothing is. So you know that I will go through West if I have to get to him and the others. Death would be a mercy, at this point. And I don't fear your little friends, Norwegen, for you are the only one fast enough and crafty enough to catch me. You asked about my plan, and yes, I will go along with it. I will kill, and kill, and tear as many families apart as I can before my demise comes."

"And so your revenge is complete." The Norwegian shivered. "I'll have to kill you..." he didn't finish, they both knew what that will result in – more pain, grief and guilt. Eventually – possibly – the very same madness, which consumed the interrogator. It was a cruel fate to look forward to. So in the end, the ex-nation had won.

Gilbert's reply was a quick and... eerily cheerful. "Yep! That's the basic plan. So, with that in mind," he trailed off as he mounted the horse. "Ta ta," without another word, the albino whipped the reigns and the horse started into a wild gallop into the desert.

There, I got them out of the desert, didn't I...? Sorta...?

As for the uniting part, I was inspired by spark-bonding from Transformers. I wanted to write something different from the whole intercourse theme which usually revolves around M rated fanfics and instead do something deeper. I'm still not sure if this was a success or a major failure xD

I found a name for Norway! I have always liked the name Håvard, and can't imagine Norway as a Nils type of guy. This is just my personal opinion of course :3