Mid 1880's...
Wales sighed as he ran the duster over the coffee table, grimacing at the dust that had collected on it from the single sweep. One side had become completely black, contrasting sharply with the white on the other. He shook his head dejectedly and set the duster down as he heard his younger brother sigh in response to his own. He chuckled in amusement and reached over, grabbing the empty tea cup that England had drained in record time. He didn't bother asking if he wanted another one; he knew very well what the answer would be. And his lazy ass of a big brother, Scotland, had stretched himself across the sofa and was in a strange state of Zen that only Scotland seemed to be able to accomplish; one hand was strewn across his stomach while the other served as a pillow for the back of his big brother's head. Wales' other brother, Ireland, had yet to show up that day. But that could have been because tensions had been growing between Arthur and Seamus. Even if their yelling couldn't be heard through the halls, the tenseness of England's shoulders was proof enough.
Rolling his eyes, Wales set the tea cup and plate back down on the newly-dusted table, going over to Scotland instead to wake him. While Wales did appreciate the golden silence that was rare to come by in the household, he didn't particularly enjoy being the only one responsible enough to clean.
The door was slammed open and Wales jumped, landing forcefully on Scotland's stomach. The Scot, in turn, shot upright in a panic, eyes wide. England simply flipped a page in his book nonchalantly, far too used to ignoring his elder brothers to be disturbed by Ireland's unannounced appearance. The redhead was grinning from ear to ear, one hand against the door while his other arm cradled a toddler, who huddled in close to his chest. The two of them bore striking similarities; vibrant green eyes, the ridiculous eyebrows that seemed to only to belong to the Isles, the same freckles, and the same red hair. The only major difference, Wales noted, was that the child's hair seemed somewhat finer and less of a tangled mess than Seamus' was.
"Oi, lads! Lookie here!" He stepped into the room slightly more, pointedly ignoring England as he showed Wales and Scotland the child. Wales' face erupted into a grin, which was soon mirrored by the child, though not as enthusiastically and much more shyly.
"Aw, Sea, he's so cute! What's his name?" Ireland paused for a second before shrugging, making Wales frown. From behind him, Scotland huffed and placed his chin on Wales' shoulder, watching the child quietly before smiling and looking up at the beaming Ireland.
"Well, now. Ain't that something. Cute little bugger indeed. Arthur, come have a look at the new lad." England paused and looked up for a moment, eyeing the child with a blank stare before he scowled and returned to his book, flipping his page slightly more angrily. Scotland huffed irritably and turned back to Ireland; he had taken to bouncing the child, who was gurgling in glee.
"Where'd you find the little lad, anyway?" Ireland hummed for a moment and nuzzled the child's cheek before responding.
"He was wandering around outside Belfast. Arthur, come and have a look at your new little brother." Wales knew by experience that England was going to say no, so he interjected and reached out for the child.
"Hey, Sea, can I hold 'im?" The child looked over at him and smiled toothily, leaning forward and out of Ireland's embrace, cooing as Wales held him in his lap. From his position at the other end of the room, England scoffed quietly. Scotland frowned but said nothing, and instead looked down at the child who was being tickled by Wales, bare feet kicking the air as he was attacked by nimble fingers.
"... No, thank you." Ireland huffed and sat down on Scotland's legs, while Wales frowned and peered at Arthur, pausing in his tickling. The child followed his gaze curiously, giggling as he noticed England.
"Come on, Artie. This is a once in a lifetime chance, you know. He won't be a kid again. And he's adorable!" He nuzzled the child's cheek in emphasis. Squealing in delight, the child eagerly nuzzled Wales back, squirming around until he was facing Wales, where he gave him a gleeful hug around the neck. Ireland bit his lip and tried one more time, ruffling the child's hair again as he squealed in delight.
"Are you telling me you don't want to meet your little brother, Arthur?" Without even looking up, England flipped another page.
"I'm busy right now, Seamus. I don't have time to coo over some brat that you've brought in." Ireland faltered and pulled away from the child, glaring down at his lap. Wales bit his lip and continued bouncing the child, pretending to ignore the impending argument that would no doubt ensue. Scotland frowned and pulled one leg out, kicking Ireland's side lightly to pull the other one away. He moved Wales down to sit on his lap and ruffled the toddler's hair before peering tiredly at England.
"This isn't just some kid, England. He's our brother. Come have a look." England's response was bland and completely expected.
"No." Wales pouted and whined loudly, hugging the toddler tightly. The child blinked up at him curiously, jumping slightly as Wales spun around on Scotland's lap so that they were facing the back of the sofa. He blinked obliviously for a moment before giggling, grinning up at Wales. He smiled down at the child, petting his hair.
"... Guys, please don't fight in front of him." Scotland nodded quietly but Ireland ignored the request, standing up and marching towards England, wrenching the book out of his hands as he slammed it shut.
"Well now, look at that. I guess you aren't so fucking busy anymore, are you?" He sneered, catching his younger brother by surprise. England blinked and peered up at Ireland uninterestedly, holding out his hand.
"Don't be a child, Seamus. Give it back." Ireland scowled and held it further away from England, peeking behind himself at Scotland. The child stood up curiously and peered over Wales' shoulder, and was soon pulled down again as the elder Kirkland nuzzled his cheek.
"No. Hey, Iain, you have any matches on you?" Scotland growled and ignored both of them, reaching over to tickle the child's cheek instead, as he giggled and pulled away, sitting on Wales' other side. England, in the meantime, stood up and reached for the book, scowling at Ireland.
"Give it back, Ireland!" Ireland shook his head, peering back at the child. England followed his gaze for a moment before scowling.
"Why the hell did you bring some random child into the house, anyway? You have no way of knowing whether that's our brother or not!" Ireland scowled, growling. The child whined nervously, peering up naively at Wales with teary eyes. Wales smiled silently, picking the child up and holding him with one arm, leaning sideways into Scotland's chest.
"He's a nation, too, you bloody dope." Ireland's voice was flat and toneless, fingers tightening dangerously around the book. England scowled and reached for it again, straining his upwards while on his tiptoes. Ireland scowled and shoved England backwards and the blonde stumbled back into the sofa, wincing softly as his back collided with the rough material. The little one peered at England through a gap in Wales' arm, between the arm itself and his chest, whining softly as he saw his big brother get shoved. His eyes were covered as Wales stood up silently, eyes pleading.
"Guys, please. Don't fight. You're scaring him." Ireland glared at England for a moment, who glanced back up at him challengingly, before walking up to the child and running a hand through his hair, moving Wales' hand away from his eyes. England got up and followed behind him silently, possessively snatching back the book that Ireland held loosely in his hand.
The child peeked over at England and grinned, cooing happily. He reached out for him, nearly falling out of Wales' grasp. The Brit scowled and looked away, clutching the book firmly against his chest as he backed away, pointedly avoiding his brothers' gazes. The child whined and reached out towards England again, falling into Ireland's arms. The elder redhead glared at England, holding the child to his chest as he nuzzled his cheek. His voice was deep and rough as he spoke, not unlike the happy lilt that he possessed earlier.
"I forgot that you became a heartless bastard after you lost America." Without waiting for a response, he marched out of the room with the child, heading into his bedroom. Wales bit his lip and stared at the door, stealing a glance at England, who was trembling. Scotland sighed and shook his head, wrapping one arm around England as he nudged him quietly.
"You need to learn to let up, love." England scowled and shimmied out from under Scotland's arm, crossing his arms and grumbling to himself as he left the room, heading in the opposite direction as Seamus. Wales glanced at Scotland and nodded to him, silently setting off in the same direction as England.
This is a joint fanfiction, and as you lot can see we have multiple OCs. We do have names for them, don't worry. The main POVs are Wales and the small child you've met in this chapter, with some Ireland later on.
Scotland = Iain Kirkland
Ireland = Seamus Kirkland (later changes to O'Connor)
Wales = Dylan Kirkland
As for the small child, that is Northern Ireland.
Chapter written by: Indecisive Invalid