Another chapter with its own intensity warning. Unfortunately there's not much I can do to spare you of it (and believe me, I tried). If you've made it this far, you can probably take it. Just hold your breath and hug your pet or something.

Chapter 7: A Just Reward

Denmark was already up and about after a quick nap scavenging what he could for breakfast. He dredged up a few strips of dried herring stashed in a jar. As he took that first bite his front door crashed open and Nazi Germany stormed in. He swallowed the fish and washed it down with a swing of the remaining beer. What a way to begin the day.

He had no time to think as Nazi Germany grabbed his shirt and pinned him roughly against the wall, sneering. "Where are they? What do you have to say for yourself?"

Denmark flattened and smiled disarmingly. "I uh… didn't expect you to find out so soon?"

"I thought you might lose heart so I went to take care of them myself last night but they vanished." Nazi Germany gave him a shake and dug his knuckles into Denmark's collarbone. He lagged for that half a second and Nazi Germany took it as a cue to continue. "Do you not understand what I've been saving you from? The prisoners of Leningrad have turned into barbarous cannibals for lack of food! They walk kilometers over a frozen lake for promises of scraps. That's an example of Ally hospitality! Is that what you want for yourself?

'Yes,' Denmark wanted to say, 'it's an artificial famine imposed by you.' But he wasn't feeling that brave yet. And flat-out accusation wasn't his style. Denmark feigned innocence. "Does that mean you've not been feeding yours at all?"

He tensed, waiting for a strike that never came. Confused, he cracked open one eye and gave his captor a once over. All the cheekiness drained out of him when he noticed that Nazi Germany had traded in his crop for a proper whip coiled at his belt. Nazi Germany perceived the fissure in his shell and released him.

"So was that for all of us or just me?" Denmark said, eyeing the weapon with no small amount of trepidation.

"Walk with me." Nazi Germany barked. Denmark trailed him knowing he'd pushed his luck enough for the time being. "I've said it before, but it didn't process so I'll repeat myself. All those other countries are going to fill your head with lies and propaganda- fairy tales you'll tell your children where the wicked witch is democracy."

Denmark hummed a few strategically placed 'yessirs' to make a show of paying attention as Nazi Germany blathered and marched. He panned his gaze over his quiet fields, towards his harbor and south to the swamps- all of it devoid of human life. And he smiled. Nazi Germany's final bargaining chip against him- gone gone gone.

"Didn't I tell you to get rid of that smirk, boy?"

Denmark stopped so hard he almost fell forward.

"That is it," Nazi Germany hissed, "thus far, Denmark, you've been an exemplary subordinate." Denmark's breathing increased twofold in grim anticipation as Nazi Germany took the whip in his hand. "But this debacle has shown me that you need education just like the rest of them and pain is an excellent teacher."

Keep him talking, Denmark thought, every second he's talking, he's not beating me.

For a superpower that bathed in words, it seemed an easy task.

"Wait." The word punched the air and bought Denmark a few precious seconds he needed to improvise. "I have a question."

Nazi Germany looked exasperated but didn't attack. "Make it quick. I'm in a hurry."

"Where's your brother?" Denmark blurted.

"Boy, I'm in no mood for small talk with you." He uncoiled the scourge with a snap.

Denmark's fear made it hard to properly drive a conversation, but he persevered. He held out his palms in a placating fashion. "T-this is very important. You've heard the rumors."

"Rumors?" Nazi Germany's mood shifted abruptly from impatient to intrigued, so Denmark relaxed a little.

"Sure! They're all over the radio." Denmark made up the story as he went along. "They're saying you took over against his will and you've locked him away somewhere or killed him. Germany's one of my good friends and I got worried after hearing that."

"I'll have to start minding what you listen to, won't I?" Nazi Germany said curtly. "No matter at this point. My brother is fine, just not allowed out of the house until he quits yammering about my lack of morality. Those countries that masquerade as human beings won't be feeding you any more lies about me."

"Why not?" Denmark asked, pleased.

"We're about to launch into Total War. I'll get rid of the others once and for all."

"Total War?" Denmark continued to prompt.

"It's over your head, boy. Don't worry yourself with it because I'll keep you safe. You know by now I'd never hurt another Aryan."

"Never hurt another Aryan?" Denmark repeated as he marveled at the irony. Germany under house arrest, Norway hiding in the woods for fear of his life… Denmark grabbed at his window of opportunity. "Then maybe you shouldn't threaten me with a whip."

Nazi Germany chuckled darkly. "Again you misunderstand. You should be thanking me for my caring. I'm considering your character. Clearly you don't understand the greatness you're capable of. You proved just that much last night."

"You said to gather the other Danes and that I should meet you this morning, which I did. I misinterpreted and I'm sorry." Denmark blatantly lied.

When that happened, the superpower seemed sated and Denmark breathed a sigh of immense relief for that second before he noticed Nazi Germany didn't recoil the whip.

"If you're sorry then you can bring them back here." He fingered the braided leather menacingly.

Once again, Denmark faced the choice of integrity or self-preservation but this time chose the former. He focused on his countrymen, who he and Sweden worked as partners to save. Of Norway, forcing Nazi Germany to pay for every footprint left on his coastline…

"N-no."

"Very well. Then remove your shirt and kneel down. If you run, I'll catch you and double your punishment."

Denmark did as commanded, planted one hand on the boggy soil, and placed the crook of his thumb between his teeth to stop himself from screaming, reiterating his latest achievement like a mantra. There came a whistling followed by a sharp crack as the lash bit into him. Initially there was no pain, but feeling returned through a burning sensation that grew like hellfire. Every nerve in his body tensed and protested. He almost wished to be bound just to have something to steady him. Had he possessed clarity of thought, Denmark would wonder why Nazi Germany forbade him to run when he struggled to keep upright.

And that was only the first stroke.

The second left him shivering in agony. It felt as though Nazi Germany hit the same spot twice whether he did or not. He bit down on his thumb so hard that his jaw ached as the lash descended on him again and again and again. Somewhere in the middle he begged for it to stop, but his crying went unheeded. The hurt of the previous stroke never dulled before the next one followed. His senses dissolved in a wash of stings that transformed into numbness and later shock as the ordeal continued for a total of twenty counts.

"There." Nazi Germany said at the end of it all. "I hope you learned something."

It took a long moment for Denmark to register that it was all over; he had survived, and was being spoken to. Slowly, very slowly he sat back on his calves to give his blood pressure a chance to re-equalize.

"I did." He swallowed back a wave of nausea.

"Good, because I don't have any more time for you today."

Denmark didn't bother looking behind him to see if Nazi Germany left. Instead, he sat still until he had confidence he wouldn't pass out. He kept his movements unhurried and deliberate. With a considerable amount of effort, he balanced on his knees and pulled his shirt back over his head only to learn that fabric over fresh stripes hurt almost as much as the scourging itself. The wave of pain jolted some life back into him while simultaneously exhausting him anew, so he rested on his hands and knees until he could muster the energy to crawl another few meters whereupon he'd rest some more. Most everything about him hurt- his back, head, stomach, hands, pride, and dignity.

The distance it initially took him ten minutes to cover at a walk now took well over an hour to retrace. When he finally made it home, he found a handwritten scrap of paper shoved under his door. Denmark only noticed it by virtue of being so close to the ground, seemingly a piece of trash if he wasn't paying attention.

Hi hero,

They're doing well and hiding.

Stopped by but you were out. Visit soon as you can, it's important. Don't let him scare you into not.

-Sweden

Denmark smiled and crept into bed. He'd allow himself the rest of that evening to clean up and recharge before he snuck over first thing that following morning. True, pain was indeed a great teacher and Denmark learned there were far worse things once the static cleared from his brain. Like death of your friends and family or continued service as a puppet state. As Denmark dozed on and off through the hurt, he made a point to congratulate himself time and time again for finally standing up to Nazi Germany and, at long last, completing his initiation into the resistance.