Little Nordic

November 29

Amalia didn't know what the term love meant. It was something warm, that she knew, but otherwise, she was clueless. Never in her life did she remember feeling loved, cared for, or wanted. She was cold, alone, hopeless, and young. The small girl had no voice to speak up and no power to stop those negative feelings she was tired of.

Abused and rejected at the tender age of two and a half, going through a long year and a half of torture, little four year old Amalia was scared, crying silently. Her father had just gotten home and when he noticed dinner not on the table, he began yelling at her mother. Her mother retaliated with her own angry shouts. Things were thrown, words were said and furniture was destroyed. She wasn't quite sure what had happened that made her parents so angry. She only knew they took it out on her.

"Bitch! Get your useless, little ass in here!" her father yelled for her. She knew it was for her, she hadn't been called her real name for a long, long time.

Shuffling into the kitchen, she kept her head down. "Y-Yes, father?"

"Why didn't you help your mother with dinner, you lazy, fat ass child?" he demanded with a sneer, hovering over her little form. In reality, she was thirty pounds underweight, highly malnourished and looked as sickly as an old woman in her 90s.

"Moth-Mother told me to go and-"

"Oh, did she now? Well you don't go and do whatever while she does all the work, you got that?" he spat, alcohol blowing in the girl's face, causing her to gag in disgust.

"Y-Yes sir."

She received a smack to her cheek and was lifted by the front of her three day old shirt. Whining softly, she struggled in his arms as tears seeped down from her light blue eyes. She sobbed lightly then screamed when her back collided with the floor. Next came the belt from around his waist, along with the insults.

After a long round of whipping, Amalia fell with exhaustion and her father grew hungry. Of course, she would get scraps as per usual.

Looking up, she noticed the door unlocked. Turning to look at the kitchen table, her father had his back to her as her mother was still by the stove. Both of them oblivious.

Seizing the opportunity, she struggled to stand and quickly stumbled to the door. The last thing she heard before the door slammed shut was her father screaming threats and insults at her back. She was never going back.

She had nowhere to turn to. No family relations, no grandparents or aunts or uncles. No brothers or sisters or cousins. No one to help her.

With it being about a month to Christmas and the snow falling heavily that year, Amalia trudged in the cold, numbing snow with bare feet and only leggings and a long sleeve shirt. Her nose was red as a cherry and her fingers weren't moving at her command. The only light she had was the holiday lights on houses and the occasional lamp post. She lived in a good neighborhood, middle class family with children of all ages and wonderful couples. None had known of the devastation and pain she went through every day. None of them questioned or called the police.

Teeth chattering, bones shaking and consciousness dimming, the four year old struggled to find help. She tried screaming, but her jaw wouldn't stay still for her to say anything and the cold was crawling down her throat.

Suddenly, she heard arguing.

"I told you no!"

"Why not?"

"Yea, why not? What harm will calling him that do?"

"Harm my pride."

"That's a bit dark."

"Have you seen this guy's brother?"

"True."

Two voices continued, the other two remaining silent. Amalia tired to open her ice crusted eyelids, but the shuddering wind didn't approve. She stood like a statue in half a foot of snow.

"Both of you shut up - Is that a little girl?"

"Dude, I think it is!"

"Catch her before she falls!"

Amalia felt the fall, but she didn't feel the catch until something really warm was wrapped around her body. She let her teeth clatter loudly, cuddling into the wonderful warmth.

"Berwald, why did you take your coat off? Mathias could've."

"She was freezing," a new voice replied from above her, mumbly and hardly understandable. She felt the warm vibrations from his chest and nuzzled closer, not caring if he was a stranger. He was a nice stranger.

"She's really cold."

"She's not wearing much."

"Who dresses their kid like that? She doesn't smell good either."

"Mathias!"

"What? It's true!"

"Doesn't mean you should say such rude things!"

"Guys, we should get her inside."

"But where are her parents?"

"Maybe she doesn't have any."

"Or she's abused."

"Why- Oh my. Look at all those scars and bruises."

"And burns. Maybe her parents did do this."

"Give her to me."

Amalia whined as quietly as possible as someone else took her in their arms. They were buff and tall, similar to the other person, except he was practically bouncing with energy.

"We should take her home."

Amalia's eyes shot open, then she stiffly sat up. "No!" she shouted, then began to cough with the intake of cold sliding down her throat. A large hand patted her back. "You-You c-can't take me home! D-Don't take me b-back there!"

"Woah woah, calm down, pieni. We'll take you to our house for now and figure everything out tomorrow," one cheery voice said. Amalia looked over, clutching at the man, who was holding her, shirt in her fist, and saw a short, blond man beam up at her with a smile. He was kind and comforting, a gentle soul. He wore a white and blue striped scarf and a black winter coat.

Amalia shivered, burrowing further into the large jacket wrapped around her. Feeling in her toes and fingers were coming back slowly.

"Question is whose house will she stay at?" the man carrying her questioned.

"I vote my house! It's warm and I have many spare rooms," the happy man offered.

"But not enough for all of us."

"It can't be Norge's. He only had three rooms."

"Nor Sve's."

"Or Emil's."

"Dan's is too messy…"

"Hej!"

"Oh, what about the mansion?"

"We haven't been there since Emil was a kid. It could be infested."

"Or haunted."

"Dan."

"Just saying."

"The mansion is the only place we can all stay at until further notice. It would be nice to clean the old place out."

"Then it's settled! To the mansion."

Amalia lay listening, her cold, wheezing breaths the only sound she could make. She couldn't put her two cents, but if these men were so generous enough that they began to argue on where to stay with her, all going together, then they were good and could be trusted. She also felt like they were more than strangers. Like she had known them all her short life.

"Oh, I hope she'll be okay…"

"If she's with us, she'll be fine."

She coughed a little, before settling and yawning. Finally, she fell into a sleep.

When Amalia woke up, she heard the crackling of fire and could feel every bone in her body again. Everything was warm and comforting. Opening her eyes, she realized that it was still dark with only the fire in the fireplace to keep her light. She sat up and pushed off the heavy blanket that was laid across her small body, feeling insanely hot and sweaty through the back of her shirt and leggings. Her short, curly hair stuck up in the air and on her face. She felt refreshed with sleep, but panicked, when she didn't remember what happened last.

Amalia, eyes wide and whimpering, shot off the couch and raced around the downstairs, searching. It wasn't her house, which was good and bad, but it was homey, yet slightly dusty like no one had been there for decades.

She wasn't quite sure how late or early it was, since her parents never sent her to school, and looked out a tall window with a seat. Pressing her face against the cool glass, kneeling on the cushion, she watched the snow fall steadily. Colors of pink and orange were growing to her left as the dark sky began to fade into lighter blues. She knew that meant morning was coming soon.

But what was she to do? She didn't remember much after she ran out of that house. She remembered the biting cold and the numbness, but didn't remember how she fell asleep and made it to the new house she was in. Did someone bring her? Did she walk all the way there? Did she sneak into someone else's house?

She whined slightly at the thought, slipping from the seat and falling on her bum due to her lack of balance.

"Oh, you're awake!"

A cheery voice called from behind her. She jumped with a squeak and turned around, finding a blond haired man. She suddenly remembered him from yesterday. He had been wearing a blue and white scarf and seemed always happy about something. When he went to pick her up, the little girl flinched causing him to back away. He stumbled over an apology and knelt beside her.

"I'm okay, mis'er," she mumbled, shyly, holding her feet and rocking slightly.

A smile grew on the man's face again. "Good. Now, do you want some breakfast?"

She tilted her head, looking up at him. "What do you eat for breakfast?" she inquired, innocent, large eyes staring up at him.

"Well, why don't you come and help me? We'll make some pancakes," he offered, holding out a hand towards her.

Bright blue eyes looked at it skeptically and confused. A pale, skeleton hand reached out and was placed in his warm palm. He grasped it gently and stood. She followed, stumbling in her steps, as they made their way to the kitchen.

"Mis'er, what's your name?" she asked. "I-If I can as-ask."

He grinned, letting go of her hand and going towards the cupboards. "My name is Tino. I didn't quite catch your name either, pieni."

"M-My name is Amalia, mis'er Tino," the brown haired girl answered. She looked around the large space, taking in the new looking appliances and realized how this part of the house wasn't as dusty as other parts. Maybe he used some parts of the house more than others. Amalia knew her parents never used the basement or the spare office in their house.

"Tino is just fine, Amalia," he said with a light chuckle, standing on his tiptoes and reaching for something on a tall shelf. He struggled, grunting and jumping to reach for the item.

Suddenly, a very tall and angry man walked into the room from the other door and grabbed whatever Tino needed. The shorter man thanked the other and turned back to their little guest. Amalia was cowering behind the island counter, peeking an eye out at the two, cautiously and curiously. Her body was shaking with fear and her eyebrows were pinched together.

"Oh, it's okay, Amalia. This is Berwald. He may seem scary, but he's actually a softy at heart. Honest," Tino introduced. Berwald simply waved, not saying anything, then went to the coffee machine to start a brew. He was quite amazed that Tino was in such a good mood. He hadn't even had any coffee.

Amalia watched the tall blond for a moment, before racing to Tino's side and clutching his pant leg. He chuckled, before picking up the little girl and setting her on the counter. She tensed at the touch, but calmed when she saw the different ingredients on the countertop.

Throughout the process, she pointed to an object and Tino would explain what it was and why it was in the mix. She looked like she was gobbling up all the information and keeping it safe inside her head. Watching her, Tino noticed the nervous pull at her sleeve, the most populated area of her injuries. He knew she was trying to hide them and not let them see. It appeared that she also did not remember much of last night.

After the pancakes were made, coffee was finished brewing and orange juice was made, Berwald and Tino set up the breakfast table. They quietly worked around each other as Amalia watched from her spot hugging the counter. Tino called up the stairs that the meal was ready, which surprised Amalia because she thought there was no one else in the house. It seemed she was wrong.

A hurried pair of steps, followed by two normal pairs walked down the steps and into the kitchen. A tall man with spiky blond hair crashed into a chair with a smile larger than Tino's. Two others joined, another blond haired man with a sideways cross in his hair and a bored looking expression, and a younger man with whitish hair and a puffin on his shoulder. Each were still in their pajamas, unlike Tino and Berwald. She remembered them from last night too, their faces somewhat familiar before she lost consciousness.

Amalia seemed to have gained the bored looking male's attention because he peeked over the table and raised an eyebrow at her. She ducked behind the counter again.

"Fin… "

Tino looked confused, before turning to look at the little brown haired girl. She looked back at him with one blue eye that he noticed had some white in and was significantly brighter than his own. He knelt down and held out his hand to her. Tiny hand in his, the Finnish man guided her to the table and offered to help her in a seat. She shook her head and climbed up herself, albeit nearly falling once.

Once they were all settled in their seats, going from Berwald at one head to Tino on his left, then Amalia, the spiky haired man, the cross hairclip man, and finally the white haired man to Berwald's right. Amalia ducked in her seat, sinking as best as she could. She didn't want to talk to these strangers, even though she felt like she could tell them anything.

None of them were watching her however, digging into the morning meal of pancakes, eggs, bacon and fish. She gagged slightly at the smell, but the cross hairclip man seemed to be the only one digging into it, along with the puffin. He was also putting a lot of butter on a piece of bread.

The spiky haired man to her left was chowing down like he hadn't eaten anything in days. He occasionally thanked Tino for the meal gratefully, but he was eating like a pig. It caused the fish eating man to pull on the back of his shirt and choke him with his own collar. Amalia sucked in a breath and cowered slightly.

"Don't worry," the white haired man called from across her right. He was still eating as he looked at her. "They do this all the time."

She nodded hesitantly, then quickly looked down at her dirty, mucky feet. Her heart was pounding slightly in her chest, but it wasn't the same fear she got from her parents. It was more anxiety than anything. She was waiting for them to kick her out of their house and tell her to beat it. Tino had been nice, but he definitely had to be doing it to lead her on then make her leave. Why else would he be kind?

"Amalia?" Tino called her attention from next to her. She twisted her head up and saw the confusion on his face. "Why are you not eating? Aren't you hungry?" he asked gently, bending down slightly to reach her height.

She moved her head up and down lightly. "M-Mother and Father never give me a nice meal, mis- uh, Tino," she answered, flicking her eyes back and forth between the ground and his shocked face. Her fingers clutched at the ends of her too big, dirty shirt.

Her bright blue eyes looked up when she heard choking and saw the expressionless man slam his hand against the spiky haired man's back, who began to cough roughly. Her eyes grew as she sat up. "I-I'm sorry!"

"No, no! Amalia, it's okay. Mathias does that a lot. He's a klutz," Tino said, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling nervously. "Listen, it's okay to eat with us. This was made for you."

"Yea, usually we have to fend for ourselves and we don't eat together much," the man, Mathias, added, clearing his throat slightly.

Mouth gaped and brows raised in surprise, she scanned all their faces. Three out of the five said 'Go on, dig in!' The other two looked expectantly at her. Amalia turned back to Tino and nodded. He cheered quietly, took her plate, and placed two pancakes and a small amount of eggs on the side.

"H-How do you eat it?" the brown haired girl asked, picking up the hotcake and playing with it between her fingers.

Mathias chuckled, then leaned over to explain. "You can eat it with anything really. Jelly, butter, syrup, peanut butter-"

"Wha's peanu' butter?" Amalia interrupted, curious to the object he mentioned. She squeaked, shielding her head. "I-I'm sorry!"

"Hej, hej, lille en. It's okay. Mm, peanut butter is like roasted peanuts crushed and created into a type of spread that goes on sandwiches and other foods," the Danish man explained.

"I-Is it good?"

"Of course, it is!" Mathias exclaimed, abruptly standing from his seat and rushing over to the cabinet. Amalia hopped up on her seat and watched from over the back of her chair. "Good thing we went to the store before coming here!" his voice echoed from inside the food storage. "Aha!" He emerged with a round container with a brown mixture inside. "We'll put some on a little piece. In case you don't like it."

Amalia nodded, shifted back around and allowed the crazy man to lather some on a ripped piece of pancake. "Do I just eat it like that?" she inquired, eyes gazing up at the man.

"Yup! Go on, dig in!"

The four year old grabbed the piece of fluffy goodness and took a good, quiet bite. The others were watching as they ate, amused by the connection the two made so quickly. Amalia was warmed up to Mathias, even trusting him with the food she ate.

A sound emerged from her throat, something she hadn't heard in a long while, as the peanut butter stuck to the roof of her mouth and she tried to get it off. Her mouth smacked together and a giggle made the five men happy. Mathias looked triumphant because he had given her something she actually liked.

"Thank you, mis'er Mathias," she said, bowing her head slightly. She flinched lightly at the hand ruffling her knotty hair, but the calloused, gentle hand didn't pull away.

"Mathias is just fine. Amalia, right?" the Danish man inquired as he knelt down next to her seat. She nodded. "It's a beautiful name."

Her cheeks heated up at the compliment, not having been given one at all and she definitely wasn't used to the praising. She stumbled over her words and heard amused chuckles from three of them.

The rest of breakfast went smoothly, but Amalia only ate half her pancake and a tiny bit of eggs. For not having much in her stomach on a daily basis, they were surprised by how much she fit. She wanted more, but Tino had warned her that she would get really ill if she did. He promised her some grilled cheese for lunch, along with hot chocolate. Both of which she had no clue what they were.

Amalia learned that the white haired man's name was Emil and his brother, who wore the cross hairclip, was Lukas. The five of them grew up together and, even with their bouts of hatred and distancing, they remained friends. Emil was the youngest, and was still treated like a kid being still only nineteen, while Berwald was the eldest at twenty-three. The house they were at was shared amongst the five, along with their many other friends, they explained when she asked. They said that there were times when their friends visited and stay at the mansion, but with all the dust, it was a long time ago. Now, they go to other houses, never theirs.

Sitting on the couch between Mathias and Lukas, Amalia was wrapped in the blanket she woke up in. She was freezing, gaining the warmth from the blanket and two mens' natural body heat. The physical touch was a new thing to her, she was a bit hesitant when Mathias had offered.

Tino walked in from cleaning up breakfast and stood watching as Mathias and Lukas talked and Emil was teaching Amalia how to play rock, paper, scissors. She smiled lightly when she won. The Finnish man was contently smiling at them, until he noticed how dirty Amalia's hair and skin was. A bath was needed.

"Amalia?" The little girl peeked her head up instantly, flinching slightly, but remained keeping eye contact with Tino. "Do you want to take a bath to get all that filth off you? I'm sure we can find some of Emil's old clothes for you to wear until we get you some," he suggested, kneeling down next to where Emil was sitting in front of the couch.

"Um, okay," she stuttered, emerging from the blanket and taking his hand once again that day. He squeezed it lightly, before leading her upstairs to a bedroom with a bath attached. She was amusing herself by thinking about how many rooms they had. The hallway was long and there were many doors. She thought it would be funny if a circus act stayed there. All the elephants and tightrope walkers, clowns and lion tamers.

She stood next to Tino as he prepared her bath in the decent sized white tub. He rolled up his sleeves and checked the temperature multiple times before clogging the drain. He got up and retrieved a few towels, along with some of Emil's old clothes Lukas found in his closet. Some bandages too, those wounds would not be healing properly without necessary care.

"Okay, Amalia, I'm going to help you get cleaned up, alright?" Tino asked for confirmation, kneeling down on the bathroom carpet by the tub again.

"Uh, d-does that mean…" she trailed of, nervously fidgeting with her fingers.

The Finnish man smiled gently and reassuring. "Yes, you will have to be naked, but don't worry. I'm not going to judge you on your battle scars. Oh! Here," he said, tugging his shirt up and showing two, one-inch scars on his right side. "Here's one of my battle scars. Mathias wasn't very happy when I left with Berwald a few years ago. He actually fought us, fist to fist. Of course, Mathias feels guilty about it because he didn't mean to hurt a friend, of course. But we all have them, so it's okay."

Amalia bit her lower lip and nodded after a moment. Tino pulled her shirt over her head first and didn't react to the many bruises, scars, burns and fresh cuts along her would-be flawless pale skin. He could count each rib and her collarbone was puckering out with her hipbones. He also noticed a necklace around her neck. It was silver and was engraved with two names on it. He read it and his sea blue eyes widened with shock. It was something he'd discuss later with the others. For now, he'd let it go and allow the girl some peace away from all her adding troubles. He tugged off her pants then picked her up and settled her slowly down in the warm water.

The four year old gasped at the feeling, fingers twisting in Tino's sleeve as he set her down.

"Does it feel nice?" he inquired, mindful that he wasn't burning her.

She shook her head. "N-No, it's really nice, Tino. Mother al-always bathed me in cold water," she informed, splashing a bit of water. Her back hunched over, body looking as though it would cave in on itself at any given moment.

Tino sighed, rubbing his face exhausted, before grabbing some shampoo and tackling the matted, tangled brown curly hair on the girl's head. She didn't whine, cry out, or grab Tino when he pulled too hard accidentally or when it hurt. She sat silent with her eyes shut tight and her fists clenched.

About forty-five minutes later, Amalia was wrapped in a fluffy towel as her temporary caretaker dried her hair and body. She felt fully clean for once, having actual soap and hair product to wash out her hair and her body with.

"Most of Emil's old clothes should fit you," Tino mused, finishing off last second drying, then wrapping and placing some bandages on new and bad wounds. He then slipped on a white dress with a blue little bow on the front. It was slightly big on her bony body, sleeves coming to her fingertips and the hem coming to her knees, but it was comfortable and would do until they could go shopping.

"Thank you, Tino," Amalia whispered her gratitude, rubbing one drooping, blue eye as her other hand clutched the sleeve.

The blond man chuckled. "You're welcome, pieni. Come on, I think a nap is an order and I have a few things to discuss about with the others," he said, picking up the little girl with her permission and carrying her out the bathroom.

"Tino? Why are you so kind to me? I didn' do anything for you," Amalia said, tilting her head to portray her confusion.

"Because someone like you, who is very young, should not be treated the way your parents have, or so I have heard so far. I simply want you to feel wanted, Amalia. The others agree with me," he answered, laying her down on the bed in the room attached to the bathroom. Amalia sat up. "What's wrong?"

"Why are you giving me this bed?"

"Because you need to sleep…?"

"Father said a rat like me has to sleep on the floor," she explained. Her icy eyes filled with tears suddenly and a little sniffle was given. "B-But I don't wanna be a rat anymore."

Tino sat down and pulled her into his lap, rubbing comforting circles on her back. She tried pulling away, confused as to what he was doing, but the steady movements made her grow sleepy. She hiccuped as she placed her head on his shoulder and let the few remaining tears fall down. She was upset, but the man she had only met yesterday was taking care of her as though she was his own daughter. He was giving her food, a bed, a bath and his friend had even made her laugh.

"It's alright, Amalia. Everything's going to be okay. We'll take care of you," Tino's voice drifted back and forth as she grew sleepy. She hiccuped, hands around his neck clutching at the fabric as she buried her face in his shoulder. She drifted and slumped against the Finnish man.

Translations

Finnish

Pieni - Little One

Danish

Hej - Hey

Lille en - Little One

Most translations will be easy to figure out at first if the Nordics are talking to Amalia, using nicknames like little one or sweetie or something. I will be using their human names for descriptions and whatnot, and their country name when they are verbally directed.

If it confuses you, I do apologize in advance, but for me this is easier to understand, despite the constant change between names. If there is anything I can do to help you, DM me. I do not mind!

I'd also like a Beta, if anyone could help. I have a friend reading the story, but she isn't the greatest so I need a second opinion :)

I hope you enjoyed the story and reviews are always welcomed!

- Ink