Russia's army showed up just before dawn. England welcomed them with hot tea. He was glad to have allies, glad enough to share his tea, anyway.

And in another hour, the offensive would begin.

Norway was fairly confident of his plans for defense of the camp:

He had positioned Finnish snipers on nearby hills. The rest of his troops were mainly infantry, though he had some German engineers, and Austria had provided the military band. The Italians made up the rear guard. Iceland, lacking his own military, was in charge of making sure orders got to where they were supposed to.

It was an effective plan. By noon, England's army had been driven off three times.

Unfortunately for Norway, he had not planned for Russia's arrival. Three must have been the magic number, because after England had completed his third retreat, it was not French troops that rallied, nor Spanish, nor British.

No, it was NSSR troops.

Norway had to begin an orderly retreat; the only group of soldiers that was more productive was the Finnish snipers.

Still, the battle lines never reached the edge of Norway's camp. It was, at least, a small accomplishment. The fighting ended about an hour after sunset by mutual unspoken agreement.

Norway, his allies, and his colonies met in the central command tent after the battle. The only absence: Scotland. Where had he gone? Norway hoped he was alright; they were old friends.

Still, all of the countries present gave a casualty report and Norway was not dissatisfied by the numbers. He did ask Prussia where Germany was, though.

"He vanted to get some zhings in order before he came to ze front. In case somezhing happened. "

"Will he be here tomorrow?"

"If not tomorrow, zhen ze next day."

"Alright. The next offensives will begin in the morning, so we should all get some sleep. Dismissed."

(Although the terms of Norway's alliances had stated that they were all equal, Norway had accepted the role of commander.)

Of course, he did not take his own advice.

According to his clock, it was now just after 2 am. He had lost track of how many times he had refilled his coffee cup.

Truthfully, he had tried to go to sleep, but he was too restless. Eventually, he had given up and decided to work on battle plans.

A tentative rap on the tent pole startled him, though he hid it when he answered.

"Come in."

Denmark slipped into the tent. "Hej, Norge."

"You should be asleep. Tomorrow will be a long day."

"You should be asleep too."

"I have too much to do."

Denmark shrugged, apparently not believing him.

Norway turned back to his plans, a pencil in one hand making notations.

"It's ok if you're afraid."

"I'm not."

"It's ok if you are."

"I'm not afraid."

Denmark made a noncommittal sound in the back of his throat.

Norway put his pencil down. "Why do you say that I am afraid?"

"You do not generally stay up this late. And you're tense. How many cups of coffee have you since you got up?"

"I…lost track…"

"I figured you'd return to bed after a walk. I didn't expect…this."

"Do you want to take command?"

Denmark chuckled softly. "Oh, come now, Norge, the biggest thing I've done for the world in the last 400 years was invent Legos. I can't lead an army."

"I thought I'd offer," Norway said wryly. "Now, is there some reason you're here, or are you just bothering me?"

Any other time, Denmark would have made some joke about bothering Norway, but tonight, he did not. Instead, he moved to stand behind Norway, who was still seated, and began massaging his shoulders.

"You are too stressed, Nor."

"I know." Pause. "Did you -were you ever this stressed and…out of sorts?"

"A little, after Sweden left with Finland. More, after you left." He laughed softly. "Ice can tell you what a mess I was."

"I heard …about some of it, but…it was difficult to believe."

"You didn't think I was capable of it?"

"No. I knew you as the berserker, the proud one, not the angry, vengeful one."

"And now?"

Norway didn't say anything for a moment. "You're afraid of being left behind and forgotten. That makes you friendly and enthusiastic."

"Yeah, I guess that's true."

"And sweet."

Denmark's hands stopped. "Really?"

"Ja. I might even be able to sleep after this massage."

Denmark hid a smile. Compliments from Norway were rare and should be appreciated every time you got one. It was, however, best not to acknowledge it.

"That's about all I can do for your shoulders."

"Thank you."

"'Alt for Norge,' ja?"

Norway smiled. "It's late; you should go to bed."

"You should also come to bed."

"I will. I just need to finalize a few details."

"Ok. Just don't stay up too much longer."

"I won't."

A/N: "Alt for Norge" is the royal motto of Norway. It means "Everything for Norway."

Also, to get the references about Finnish snipers, you should google Simo Hayha.