"Leave him alone." Finland responded, his own breath and voice shaky from supporting Sweden's weight for longer than he knew he could.

"And why should I?"

"Denmark just give him a break." Finland tried, but he could feel his throat closing in on him as he imagined the ruthless, tyrannical things that the Dane might try to pull now that Sweden was utterly defenceless. "Please."

Denmark scoffed and grinned in a way that surfaced old, turbulent emotions. Finland couldn't stand living with Denmark, but he knew he wasn't strong enough to leave. Hell, if Sweden wasn't strong enough to break free, then he was damned sure he would have no chance against Denmark.

Without regard to Sweden's condition, Denmark threaded his hands through the hair on the back of Sweden's head, and in one jerky motion, he fisted the hair, tightly, and pulled Sweden's head up to meet his own.

Finland felt Sweden react, barely to Denmark's action, and suddenly, his mind was divided. He wanted Sweden to wake up so he would get off of Finland's back so Finland might be able to just calm to situation, but he also didn't want Sweden to gain consciousness because that inevitably meant a fight between the two would ensue, and in Sweden's obviously fatigued state, there was no way he would stand a chance.

"Dammit Denmark!" Finland growled, pissed beyond reprieve and raising himself to the tallest height he could without falling over backwards due to Sweden's weight. Finland was on edge; dealing with Denmark was like flipping a coin. It's a fifty-percent chance you'll end up getting yourself into a huge shit-storm, and then there's the other fifty-percent, where you might end up without a scratch. Finland fell silent; locking eyes and levelling emotions with Denmark, "Stop dicking around- nobody finds this funny."

"And who do you think you are?" Denmark removed his grip from Sweden's head to grip tightly on Finland's jaw, pushing Finland's lips up and out uncomfortably, and violently shaking the shorter man's head. "Who do you think owns you?!" Denmark's words were nearly a growl, low and fierce.

Denmark's eyes sparkled and danced dangerously, and Finland suddenly realized that he was giving the Dane exactly what he wanted – a fight. This was not his intention. No. This is not what he wanted at all. He wanted to just get Sweden into his room and lock the door and hide from the world, but as it turns out, fate had another plan, and Finland was left face-to-face with the one person he truly did not care to be around. Ever.

"Huh?" Denmark pressed, tightening his grip on Finland's jaw and pushing the man back slightly. "Let's hear it."

"I have nothing to say to you." Finland hissed, feeling his knees grow weaker by the second, and his jaw become more bruised as Denmark held on tighter. What had he gotten himself into? Why didn't he just go hide in the servants' quarters? Acting on impulse and also becoming more infuriated by the minute, Finland spat in Denmark's face.

Without warning, Denmark pushed Finland to the ground by use of his jaw and sent the two men bumping hard against the wooden floor. Finland felt terrible for thinking this, but he was kind of happy Sweden was there to break his fall. Glaring up at Denmark, Finland watched the man use his sleeve to wipe this spit from his face. Moving quickly, he flipped himself over to see if Sweden maybe gained consciousness from the impact, when an arm wrapped tightly around his midsection.

Not sure who's arm it was, Finland securely slid his arms underneath Sweden's torso, squeezed his eyes shut in anticipation of Denmark's wrath, and held him tightly. It was strange, but at this moment, all he could think about was protecting Sweden, so it came as a shock to him when his torso, still firmly latched onto Sweden's, began moving.

Allowing himself to peek through barely-open lids, Finland realized that it was Sweden who was holding him so tightly, and Sweden who was moving to get up. Finland could hear Sweden moaning in distress through an ear pressed to his chest. It only made Finland want this to end sooner.

"Finally…" Denmark's voice, unwelcome, broke the silence. "Looks like you're weaker than I remember… Needing little Fin to carry you to your room." Finland shot Denmark a nasty look, one that also betrayed his disbelief and hurt in Denmark's words. Little? Who was he calling little!

Sweden stood at his full height, and Finland could feel how wobbly and fatigued the man still was. Holding onto Sweden tightly, Finland tried to act as a crutch to help Sweden support his own weight, hopefully for long enough to scare the Dane off.

Finland felt the arm remove from his waist and wondered what Sweden was planning on doing; he was in no condition to fight and truly hoped that Sweden wasn't falling prey to Denmark's taunts.

As Sweden moved to open his bedroom door, Denmark not-so-gently nudged his shoulder with a closed fist, causing Finland to widen his stance to further support Sweden. Finland felt Sweden's grip back around his waist, and Finland knew it was up to him to do something. He just didn't know what to do- Finland had not had to deal with Denmark like this for several decades...thanks to Sweden.

Denmark closed the space separating them from the door to Sweden's room, now making it impossible to try and run inside for safety.

"You're makin' this waaay too easy for me, man." Denmark sneers, smiling and crossing his arms over his chest, his glare steers down, from Sweden's eyes to Finlands. "Here, I'll make this easy on ya, Finny. You leave Sweden here with me, and you go off and play with Norge."

"No." Finland spoke, as calmly as possible. On his own he might be able to land a few good ones, but while supporting Sweden, he did not stand a fighting chance. "Den, leave us alone, we're not bothering anyone."

"Not bothering anyone?" Denmark questioned, bending and leaning forward, again coming face to face with Finland. "You're bothering me." Finland could smell the alcohol on his breath – something much stronger than mead. To Finland, the situation had just elevated, he could feel Sweden's knees wobbling under fatigue, and something told him that Sweden would not be able to last much longer. Denmark grabs ahold of Finlands upper arm, gripping it tightly.

"You bother me so much more than Sweden…" He begins, yanking Finland closer. Sweden wraps both arms as tightly as he can around Finland, pulling Finland to his chest. "The things I'd like to do to you are much worse than the things I already do to Sweden."

"Stop it Denma-" Sweden's voice was not much more than a whisper in Finlands ear, his voice so quiet that there was no way Denmark heard it, but strangely, it was comforting to Finland – Sweden was fighting in his own way, and maybe simply holding onto Finland was all he could do to stop Finland from being dragged away.

"You know, I was told to never hit a lady, Finny." Denmark hissed, his single handed grip strength equal to Swedens, and soon they were all shuffled and cramped in such close quarters that Finland was sure Denmark could feel the fatigue in Sweden's bones, the lessening hold around his torso.

"But with Sweden barely able to stand, I think I could get away with so much more." In that moment Finland was nearly sure he was doomed to be pulled from Sweden and violated in some lascivious way.

"No!" Finland refuses, gripping tighter, squeezing Sweden's torso as tight as he can, knowing that it's all he can do without abandoning Sweden, and not let himself be taken by the insane Dane.

"C'mon, Finny…" Denmark breathily whispers, his words slurred with sexual tension, "It'll be fun…" He yanks again, this time freeing enough space between Sweden and Finland to be able to lock his free hand on the breast of Finland's tunic.

"Let go of him!" Sweden's voice darkly rumbles, emanating from his chest and mouth, all the way through Finland's bones, and Finland feels a cold chill run from the balls of his feet to the crown of his head. Sweden could truly be terrifying, something he thinks Denmark forgets.

"Ah, wakey-wakey~" Denmark begins, but in less than a second Sweden's arms are off of Finland's torso and Denmark is no longer grinning, but removing his grip from Finland's body, using his newly freed hands to cover his nose, and before Finland can even blink, he sees blood dripping from Denmark's chin, slithering along the curve of his wrist and catching in the hair of his forearm.

Looking at Sweden, Finland sees his right hand clenched in a loose fist, his left hand covering it, as if he were cracking his knuckles. Finland realized that Sweden had just punched Denmark in the face, and he had no idea where this would now be headed.

Sweden took a step toward the retreating Dane, when Denmark simply turned and walked away, hands still covering his face – droplets of blood trailing his retreat.

"Sve!" Finland rushed to Sweden, and as soon as Finland had an arm to Sweden, Sweden fell to the help of Finland, his head hanging down and his eyes all but closed. "Let's get in your room."

Finland and Sweden slowly drawled into Sweden's bedroom, where Finland cautiously placed Sweden on his bed, helping him lay back so he could scurry back into the hall to retrieve his bow and other belongings. Before leaving, however, Finland gently placed a hand on either side of Sweden's jaw and looked upon him. His bags were still terribly present, and he looked as if he were about to pass out at any moment, but soon their eyes locked, and Finland saw something he had never seen in Sweden's eyes before – something warm and loving. The look made Finland's heart beat twice as hard, it made his cheeks flush, and he hadn't the faintest idea why.

"I'll be right back." Finland whispered, and hoping to help the pain, as he had in the past, kissed Sweden sweetly on the cheek before turning and quietly exiting the dark room.

Sweden only had time to sigh, heaving the inside of his elbow to cover his eyes and cheeks, and hiding a blush he hadn't realized was even there. He wished the kiss were on his lips, still imagining Finland's to be soft and pleasant, a feeling he wished to know with certainty. Quietly, and only to himself, Sweden boldly whispered, "I love you," to a Finland he knew was no longer in the room.

"Sve, it's me." Finland spoke softly, wanting to reassure Sweden that it was not Denmark entering. Finland closed and latched the lock on his door as quietly as possible; further preventing Denmark's entry. Having memorized Sweden's large room since childhood, he walked confidently in the darkness to where the man kept his candles and flint, gently placed his belongings down, and prepared to light one.

While he, with shaky hands as his adrenaline rush from earlier was now receding, fumbled with striking the flint and aiming the spark on the wick of the candle, Finland thought of how desperately he did not want to sleep alone in his room tonight. After what he just did, spitting on Denmark's face, Finland thought that certainly there was no way Denmark wasn't going to make his life a living hell until he got bored with him. He pondered asking Sweden if he could stay the night, and something told him that Sweden would never deny Finland of any request, no matter how difficult.

Thinking of Sweden, Finland recently discovered, always left him smiling. Finland enjoyed the others quiet, peaceful company. Much unlike Denmark's loud ways, and completely different from Norway's mysterious-quiet, Sweden offered a comfortable silence.

Being around Sweden was like relaxing into the comfort and warmth a fire emanated on a harsh winter's day. It was genuine and pure, like the relief of dipping your feet in the cool creek, without underlying intentions like he felt Norway sometimes had. Though, Finland would be lying if he said he was completely comfortable around the man. Sometimes, Finland mused, Sweden's demeanour and lack of voicing his intentions could come off as a bit nerve-wracking too.

Finally able to light the candle, Finland walked to Sweden's bedside and placed it's dim light on the nightstand. He walked to Sweden's side and leaned over the man, placing a light hand over Sweden's heart and just feeling thankful, again, that their meeting with Denmark hadn't escalated. He closed his eyes and sighed, relief washing over him.

"Thank ya, Fin." Sweden whispered, moving his hand to lightly rest atop of Finland's, weakly slipping the tips of his fingers under it and squeezing with what felt like the strength of a new-born child. Finland sighed.

"Sleep, Sve." He gently commanded, slipping his hand out from under Sweden's. Seeing as Sweden only managed to get the upper half of his body on the bed, his feet still on the ground, Finland decided to remove Sweden's boots. Once done, he placed them neatly, side-by-side at the foot of Sweden's bed. Tenderly, as a mother would tend to her daughter, he untied the neck of the man's tunic and tried to reposition Sweden's body on the bed.

"Hey," Finland whispered, the dull light reflecting warmly off of Sweden's features, "are you still up?"

"Ja." Sweden whispered, his eyes lightly fluttering open.

"Do you really plan on sleeping like this?" Finland chided, peering amusedly over Sweden, smiling.

Sweden groaned lightly, and Finland grabbed his hand, pulling the man to a seated position. Once seated, he shed his thick training uniform, leaving him in nothing but his tunic and undergarments. He repositioned himself on his bed, moving his legs under the covers yet still remained sitting. Lazily, he looked to Finland, and Finland couldn't help but think that Sweden looked so helpless and cute, as if a bit of his younger insecurities were still within him.

"Mind if I stay?" Finland questioned, the softness in his voice nearly lulling Sweden back to sleep.

Nodding, Sweden lay down, rolling to his side and watching as Finland pulled off his boots, and loosened the twine from his tunic, pulling it over and off of his torso. Finland walked to the other side of the bed, and Sweden again turned his body to follow the man's actions.

Smiling, Finland crawled in the large bed beside Sweden.

"Did I get 'em?" Sweden asked as Finland shimmied under the covers, snuggling close to Sweden, "couldn't see much withou' m'glasses." Sweden yawned, and Finland let his head fall to the pillow, his face romantically illuminated by their single candle. Sweden quietly admired the man Finland had become, and for some reason, probably out of a tired delirium, Sweden reached his hand out to brush the few strands of hair that had landed in Finland's eyes out of the way. It felt almost natural that Sweden would next kiss Finlands lips – but he didn't, he knew that would be too much.

"Looked like you broke his nose." Finland whispered, coaxing Sweden to sleep. Finland's body was so close to his own, he was sure Finland felt some need or worry about Denmark coming for him, so he tiredly wrapped his arms around Finland, and pulled, bringing Finland's nose to his chest.

"Sorry I didn' do it sooner." Sweden whispered, his lips grazing the crown of Finland's head with each word. Sweden had to admit, despite feeling beaten and bruised, tired, and fed up with their living arrangements, he couldn't imagine being any happier than he was right now, with Finland lying in his arms.

"Don't apologize," Finland placed a hand over Sweden's heart, feeling the muscle beat slowly, feeling the warmth of Sweden's chest radiate through his fingers and palm. "I think we both got off the hook tonight. Let's sleep, Sve."

"Ja, good night."

"Night." Finland closed his eyes, but he could not sleep. He waited for Sweden's breathing to calm and pattern (which truly did not take long); he waited for their lone candle to burn itself out. Finland waited for the dull light flickering through the crack under the door to dissipate, he waited for the house to stop it's creaking, and even until the birds and crickets had ceased their chirping.

Because even though he knew that the world was asleep, he still could not face what had happened earlier that night.

The images flashed back to him in violent gradients of greys, blacks and reds. Finland knew the phrase well – don't bite the hand that feeds – but it seemed tonight he landed himself back on Denmark's radar, and he knew things would not be so easy as they had been before. Denmark was his leader, as much as he despised it.

At some point, his eyes lulled to a close, but his dreams were nearly lucid, so real and completely possible that Finland thought he was not dreaming.

He dreamt that Denmark had come for him; that Sweden did not even wake at the sound of his cries and limply let him be pulled from his arms, that Norway simply observed from the hall as Finland was forced into Denmark's chambers.

He dreamt that Denmark had overtaken him, and each fit and struggle to get away only made the Dane stronger, like he was feeding off Finland's cries for help. Soon, Denmark was commanding him, and threatening him. Finland struggled, punching and biting and kicking to get away from Denmark, but he simply could not flee. Denmark's grip around him tightened until he was left completely emasculated, and soon all Finland could do was weep and call for help.

"Finland!" Hot tears ran down his face as a familiar voice called him from his nightmarish picture of reality – something so real for Finland, that he actually believed he was trapped in Denmarks arms as struggled to open his eyes.

"No! I won't let you-" Finland cut himself off, putting all his strength into his freedom. Fighting and struggling, Finland tried to make his way out of his captors arms, pushing off of the man's chest as forcefully as he could, but he was not budging.

"Finland, wake up!" The voice called again, but this voice was not Denmarks. This voice was not threatening.

"NO!" Finland finally manages to open his eyes, finding himself in Swedens arms. Upon realizing this, he instantly wraps his own arms, tightly, around Sweden's body. "Oh, Sweden!" He buried his face in Sweden's chest and wanted to cry and scream in terror and rage, his dream shook him to his core, and what's worse, he knew it was a likely scenario.

"Fin, shhh..." Sweden kissed the top of his head, letting his lips linger for a little while and began rubbing his back, "...shh, I'll protec' ya." Sweden sighed, "I'll keep ya safe."

Finland looked up to Sweden, and Sweden brought a hand to Finland's forehead, brushing and holding his hair back from his face, looking into each others eyes briefly, before Finland sighed and broke the tender moment.

"Sve, I don't want to live here any more." Finland whispered quikly, as these words were more lethal than spitting in the Dane's face, if he were to have heard them.

Sweden chuckled, whispering back, "Jus' say when."

"Soon..." Finland sighed feeling the warmth of a pleasant sleep over take him, knowing that Sweden was there, and that he truly would protect him, "thank you..."

Together they slept, the whole night through, without any bother from the great Dane.

Now, now, now, I really do love Denmark (guilty pleasure..definitely DenSu ;)) but for story purposes he's kinda gone mad with power at this point in time. But yeeeees these are my headcanons... and I bet you can guess what Leaving (the third in this trilogy about the Kalmar Union) will be about.. Welp, until next time~

reviewwwwww good or not so good or i might just cry into swedens arms some more :o

Xoxo, OurGloryDays