Links to original prompt and meme in my profile.
Denmark sighed, dropping heavily to the bare stone floor. The altar before him was a wreck, littered with smashed trinkets and candle stubs. Everything in the church was a mess, even Denmark himself. He and his axe had both seen better days- the weapon was nicked, dull, spattered with blood. Denmark sported the same dark red splotches, some of it his own, most of it not. His uniform was ripped and dirty, and he was pale and sweating with fever, because Scania was burning.
"Damn him to Hell, anyway." Denmark sighed, leaning back against the pew behind him. "Fuckin' Sweden."
He sighed again, then smiled. "Father says I shouldn't swear. Apparently, You don't like that." He laughed. "You're a strange god, aren't you? No swearing, no witchcraft, no mead- I sometimes wonder why You'd bother with me at all."
The church began to feel hotter, but he knew it was just him. Just another part of Scania going up in flames.
"I wish You'd answer me back." He said, after the swell of heat had passed or he'd just gotten used to it. "I hate talking to myself." He looked up above the altar, expression twisting in anger and pain. "Why? You're the same God, aren't you? Christian and Christopher both worship You, don't they? Why are you letting them tear me apart? Why, dammit?"
It was no use yelling at the altar. He knew that. But he couldn't help himself. He felt pathetic and weak. He couldn't even get his people to agree on who his ruler was.
"I just... I'm a fighter, God. A soldier. I don't know how to... to get people to talk. I suck at politics. I just want this to stop."
There was no answer. He'd learned not to expect one.
"Dammit, my people are dying! My people, my children, they're killing each other, and they're using You as an excuse! And now Sweden, that smug bastard Sweden is jumping in, and even more of my children are dying, and I- I can't stop them!"
He surged to his feet, hefting his ax, and brought it down on the altar hard enough to crack the stone.
"I can't stop them! They just keep killing each other! In Your Name!" He turned, laying into the pews. They were wood, and shattered easily under the force of his blows. "So... so make them stop, dammit, come down off Your pedestal and stop letting my children die! Stop letting them slaughter each other! Stop letting Sweden kill them! Help them, damn You!"
Then there was nothing left to destroy, and he sank to his knees in front of the ruined altar, sobbing.
"Please." He begged, choking on his tears. It was all right for God to know he was weak right now- God knew everything, anyway. "Please, God- I'll do anything. Anything You ask of me. Just help them. Help them. Please."
Denmark did not beg easily. He wouldn't get down on his knees and beg before any mortal, any nation, but he believed in God, and he would beg God. He would debase and humiliate himself, endure any hardship and any shame, if it meant his people would no longer die like animals. If God would just save them, there was nothing Denmark wouldn't do.