This fic was greatly inspired by this fanart I saw of the Nordic nations: h t t p : / / tinyurl . c o m/theempire

I also have no idea what Denmark's human name is so I named him "Ditmer." Hopefully no one has any objections.

Shattered Unity

Berwald had no idea when it had become too much. He guessed his annoyance had started around the time Denmark had begun running the meetings and issuing orders, which was pretty close to the beginning. He shouldn't have been bothered by it. After all, the older nation did have some prominence over the smaller ones in the union. Hell, Norway pretty much worshipped him, would do his bidding even before he asked. Berwald suspected that the angel-faced nation's attitude toward Denmark was one of the reasons behind the Danish man's arrogance and sense of superiority.

Finland and Iceland were different. They feared the stronger Scandinavian so they obeyed him. Both of them were so weak and young that Denmark (and the rest of the world for that matter,) barely called them nations. Berwald thought they had gotten so used to being a part of the larger Nordic countries, and so afraid of all the other nations, that they accepted being in the union and under Denmark's thumb almost willingly.

And then, there was Sweden. Old and powerful in his own right, he had agreed to live in Denmark's house only because he didn't want to be the odd ball out. The talks had been respectful. Each nation was to keep its sovereignty while holding a strong bond with others to prevent the outside world from invading their lands and using their assets. Norway was the one who had come up with the idea and Denmark had encouraged it. Finland and Iceland had simply accepted, too frail and too eager to be recognized to pay the terms much attention. After all, Berwald thought, they were happier to be a part of a union rather than being swallowed up by a singular country, especially Finland who had the looming shadow of Russia constantly over him.

And so he had been the only one left, with Denmark looking at him with a smug grin on his face. But it wasn't that arrogant, expectant stare that had caused him to make the final decision, but the deep-blue desperate look on Finland's face. He didn't know why the look so unsettled him, he didn't particularly care about the fragile nation. But it had been what had sealed the deal, making him join the Nordic family that Denmark had so eagerly established.

At first he was neither thrilled nor upset by the new arrangement. He did his job like he would have done in any other situation. Since they were an alliance, they would get together everyday to discuss responsibilities and split tasks. Sweden was usually handed important things like meeting and negotiating with other countries and overseeing trades. His business was always discussed first so he could leave and take care of it as soon as possible. He barely listened, or cared, what duties were assigned to Finland and the rest. He had a vague idea that Norway did Denmark's secretarial work while the proud Dane went about doing anything he liked. He didn't mind that Denmark barely did anything to assist with the up keeping of the union. As long as he stayed out of Sweden's way and agreed with his decisions he was fine. So he never really saw the course of Denmark's rise to total supremacy, or his decent to exploitation, before the day he spotted Finland crying in the kitchen.

It was a Sunday, the only day aside from holidays that he spent at home. They had just come back from church and Finland was preparing lunch in the kitchen when Sweden entered. The young man was by the stove, stirring a pot on open fire. Berwald walked by him to get a cupful of water from the jug when he heard the sound. It was quiet, but he wouldn't mistake it for anything else.

It was the sound of quiet sobbing.

He turned and looked at the fair-haired boy through his glasses. The younger one wasn't paying him attention. He was just standing there minding the stew. He didn't know why he did it but a moment later he was standing in front of the Fin, tipping his chin up and looking him severely in the eye. The boy's face was wet, and tears clung to his lashes like early morning dew. At first he was dazed, not seeming like he saw Berwald until a few seconds when he blinked and took a violent step back, nearly toppling the pot.

Berwald stood there, arms crossed on his chest, and watched the younger nation regain his bearing and stand in front of him with his head bowed and his chest heaving. He could see faint trembles along the boy's shoulders.

"Wht's matter?" he asked.

"N-nothing," Finland replied.

He reached forward and grabbed him by the arms, feeling the shaking intensify as he held the boy in place and stared him in the face. "Said wht's matter? Speak." he repeated.

Finland shook his head, letting tiny teardrops fly around. "I-I s-wear, there's n-nothing."

Again, without knowing why, he did something that was completely unexpected to both of them. He let go of Finland's arms and pulled him close with his arm around the boy's shoulders. Finland let out a slight cry of surprise as he was pressed against the much taller Swede before he stilled and grabbed the other's shirt.

"Hate when 'y lyin'," said Sweden before pulling the boy with himself to a nearby bench and sitting him down across from him. There was a moment of stillness when Finland seemed unsure. Sweden let go of him and just looked him in the face as if urging him to speak. At last the smaller nation broke down, letting the tears flow as he began to confess, "I don't like it Su-san, I don't, I don't. I said I would clean the house, and milk the cows, and do all the laundry. But what he wants me to do in the evening…it makes me, I don't know…. it's just…I hate it."

Sweden looked at him confused. What was the boy talking about? What did he mean by 'what he wants in the evening?' He had never seen Denmark do anything vile or violent to the other members of the union. Granted Sweden never came home early, always taking too long to sort out business with the neighbors or watch the ships set sail. Usually by the time he was home all of them had gone to bed. It made him uneasy to think there were things going on around the house that he had no idea of. His curiosity heightened, he decided to check for himself next time he came home.

A few nights later he came home earlier, walking through the foyer quietly until he reached the living room door. There were voices coming from behind the door, people speaking in hushed tones. He pushed the door open, just enough to get a glimpse of Denmark sitting in his favorite chair. And he froze.

The scene should have been nothing out of the ordinary – Denmark lounging in the chair with dutiful Norway standing in his secretary pose behind him – if it weren't for the other two that were in the room. Iceland and Finland were both half naked, Iceland missing his shirt while Finland wore an open front shirt and no pants, or boxers. They were both in Denmark's lap, each being played with and caressed in different ways. One of Denmark's hands was pinching Iceland's left nipple, while the other dipped somewhere in front of Finland's front, fondling something that made the young man squeeze his eyes and let his mouth hang open.

Blood boiled in Sweden's veins. He pushed the door open so hard in banged against the wall, startling all four of them. As he walked inside he noticed the next detail, the dog leash Denmark was holding with its end attached to a collar around Iceland's neck.

"Wht's t' meaning of ths'? he asked, barely restraining himself.

Denmark gave his typical haughty grin. Iceland stood up and Finland slipped bonelessly to the ground to sit at Denmark's feet. The image irked Berwald even more and he stepped into the room giving the Dane another angry, disapproving look.

"Ditmer," he growled.

"Settle down Berwald," Denmark answered, not loosing even an inch of his crooked smile, "You haven't been around that much so you don't know how things work around here. This is just some family fun."

Sweden didn't stop his angry stride until he was only a few steps away from the other nation. "Fun? Thn why's he cryin'?" he motioned toward Finland whose head was bent down and whose hair shadowed his face.

"Who, him?" Ditmer laughed, looking down at Tino and suddenly reaching down and pulling his face up by the chin, "Are you joking? Why don't I see any tears?"

Berwald glared, and for a moment it seemed the smaller nation shivered more from his angry look than whatever Denmark had done to him. The Dane was right though; there weren't any tears in Tino's eyes, although there was no mistaking the miserable, helpless look in them.

For a moment Berwald was lost for words, looking fixedly at Finland. There was something about that look. The same look that had caused him to agree to this ridiculous arrangement. His inner turmoil puzzled him, considering what little interaction there was between them. The Fin shivered once more and Berwald watched Ditmer's hand snake around Tino's throat and tighten, choking the lithe body slightly and eliciting a tiny moan.

"Maybe you're not angry at what's going on," the Dane said before pulling Tino up and placing him over his lap once again. He placed his hands on the boy's chest and abdomen, stroking him while looking at Sweden over the boy's shoulder. Berwald couldn't see what he was doing because Finland's open shirt blocked his view. But Tino's cheeks became flushed and he threw his head back, making mewling sounds as his body moved in accordance with Denmark's actions. The tears finally appeared in the corners of his eyes.

Something inside Sweden snapped, like a brittle tree branch breaking under the weight of heavy snow. He was upon them in the next second without even realizing it, grabbing Denmark by the collar and lifting him from the chair. He lost track of Tino as he fell, but heard Iceland's cry of pain when Denmark's hand, still holding the leash, pulled on it too hard.

He kept shoving until the other's back hit the wall. The impact jarred both men and Denmark made his first sound of distress since the start of the argument. Berwald's eyes were ablaze, looking at the other man like Odin himself. Denmark met his gaze squarely, but instead of returning the fierce glare his face split into a large grin, even more conceited and unpleasant than the one he wore before. "Looks like my guess was right. You are mad because I didn't invite you."

Berwald stood very still, blinking at the other nation as if not comprehending what he'd just said. He could hear Finland whimpering behind them, sitting somewhere on the ground. Why was he only hearing his voice when there were two more in the room?

Denmark's grin turned 100 percent feral when he noticed his distraction. He showed his teeth like a hungry shark, despite still being held against the wall, and said, "Do you want him Berwald? Do you want to touch his flesh? Feel him shudder and whimper in your hands? Do you dream of him? Pleasure yourself while imagining his cries of pain, or his moans of pleasure?"

Sweden felt the room tilt. He couldn't help but to look back. For some reason he had to see Finland, had to see if he was all right. The boy was on his knees near the chair, clasping the front of his shirt closed with both hands and avoiding his stare. He could see the tears now, flowing freely from tired eyes. It devastated him that he found the sight more arousing than disturbing. It was worse because Denmark noticed it too.

"See, you're no different than me. Given the opportunity you would do the same to them as I would. Don't waltz in here playing the virtuous saint. If you want a piece of him tell me and I'll send him to your room tonight."

Finland closed his eyes and leaned his head against the chair as if in defeat. More tears rushed down his cheeks from the corners of his eyes but he didn't raise his head or wipe them away. The tiny blonde's entire stance screamed of resignation.

No, no,no,no,no Berwald's mind kept chanting.

It was Denmark's chuckle from behind - the sound of chinking ice against unprotected window – that tore the lid off his fragile control. He turned back to the man in a fraction of a second and smashed his fist into his mouth, feeling the bones of his jaw creak. Denmark stumbled out of his hands, and would have fallen to the floor if Norway hadn't caught him. He held his hand to his bloody mouth in surprise, looking at him with all traces of humor gone from his face. In a split second he attacked and tackled Sweden, crashing both of them to the floor. The other Nordic nations cleared the way as the two giants wrestled and fought, knocking furniture and other items to the ground.

It wasn't too long before Denmark had Sweden underneath him, pounding into him relentlessly until Berwald thought he would die. He had fought commendably but hadn't expected Denmark to be so strong. Now he knew his edge was lost. Lying there beneath his opponent he tried to protect himself as best as he could when the fight turned into an out and out punishment. When he tried to cover his bloodied face with his arms the Dane's fists turned to his abdomen, punching him there so many times that he felt bile fill up his mouth. Distantly he heard the others cry for Denmark to stop, or was it only Finland's voice again? It didn't matter. Ditmer didn't stop, and soon all his senses dimmed and faded away, leaving him in a vast empty silence that was as dark as any Scandinavian winter night.

---

He came to when something soft and cool touched is forehead. His face hurt when he tried to open his eyes and found them swollen shut. He turned his head and fought harder, took a shaky breath that came out a groan when he exhaled. A hand placed against his face stilled him, a soft voice whispering in his ear, "Shhh, Su-san. Please don't move. You'll hurt yourself more."

It was him. The voice he kept hearing when his mind was all fuzzy and gone. Why was Finland here? What had happened?

"W-w--?" he mumbled. Finland shushed him again.

"The fight went bad. You shouldn't have attacked him like that, Su-san. You knew he was stronger."

Sweden would have rolled his eyes if he could. What was he supposed to do? When something was pushed to its limits his Viking blood wasn't able to take it. The union had been a bad idea from the beginning. He wouldn't have joined it if it hadn't been for…

"Still," the faint voice invaded his thoughts again, "thank you for standing up for me."

The simple statement warmed a part of his heart he hadn't known existed. He tried to say 'you're welcome,' but his lips were as badly damaged as his eyes. Instead he lifted his hand as best as he could and immediately felt it grabbed by Finland. The boy rested his cheek against his hand, rubbing his soft skin and prickly eyelashes over his fingers.

They were silent for a moment until Finland said, "I wished we could leave."

It was faint. So quiet Sweden wasn't sure he heard it. But a thought took root in his head, a question he wanted to ask: 'If I leave, will you come with me?'

It wasn't possible. He couldn't say it. Too many syllables. Too much work for his hurting mouth and his fading brain. Instead he stroked the other's cheek with his hand and turned his face toward him as much as possible, promising to himself that once he was healed enough he would do everything in his power to get himself and the delicate boy away from this house.

He felt lips on his palm like a seal of confirmation. Perhaps the other nation had read his thoughts and was giving him an answer. Finland stood up and excused himself, saying that he had to go and take care of his tasks. But he tightened his grip on Sweden's hand before letting go and once he was gone Sweden repeated the promise he made to himself as he succumbed to tiredness and pain and fell asleep once again.

---

Historical notes: The union referred to here is the Kalmar Union of 1397–1523 between Denmark, Sweden, Norway, Iceland, parts of Finland and other Nordic regions.( h t t p : / / e n . wikipedia . org/wiki/Kalmar_Union) The countries' sovereignty was maintained although they were only autonomous with a common monarch leading foreign policy and other interests. Sweden was never satisfied with the agreement, particularly with Denmark and the Holstein's enforcing their dominance over the rest of them. The Swedish nobles rebelled in 1471 and successfully managed to establish Sweden's independence in 1503. Furious, Denmark retaliated and reconquered Sweden in 1520, exacting revenge in a bloody massacre that became known as the Stockholm Bloodbath. After the Seven Year's War that weakened most Scandinavian nations Sweden once again managed to pull its forces together and pave the way for its independence in 1521 and the eventual establishment of the Swedish Empire.

- I never thought I would have to dig up so much history for a fanfic this short. My brain is really hurting. I'm also kind of troubled by the number of bloody massacres and tragedies that research for Hetalia keeps revealing. It's as if every nation in the world had a period in history when it totally went berserk.