Over the next few months, every other day after school, Lukas and Emil would sit down at the kitchen table with their foster father and be given some English lessons. The boys picked up the language quickly, with the younger of the two learning it faster. They never seemed to have a break – Mathias and Tino were both curious young boys who wanted to know everything. Berwald was a lot calmer than the other two; he didn't push them anywhere, or to do anything. He was quiet and polite, even if a little intimidating. Lukas liked Berwald; he was the easiest for him to connect with, even if the Swede's accent was hard to understand.

A month passed like a second, a year like an hour. By Lukas' tenth birthday, the strange people that they had been placed with were family, the over-crowded house was home. And as much as Lukas tried to deny it, to himself and to everyone around him, Mathias was the greatest friend anyone could have. He was annoying, that much had to be said, but he was loyal and honest.

"Hey, Lukas?" Speak of the devil, and there he is. The wild-haired, blond Dane stood in his doorway, his hands behind his back.

"What are you holding?" Lukas enquired. From behind his back, Mathias got out a neatly wrapped, red box with a blue ribbon.

"Happy Birthday," Mathias said, grinning. He handed him the box, and Lukas took it slowly. He pushed a few strands of his hair behind his ear before opening the present.

His breath stopped short. Inside the box was a gold cross hair pin.

"Thought you might like it," Mathias shrugged, "Since your fringe is getting rather long. Here," he took the clip out of the box, sliding it into the left side of Lukas' hair. "There, much better."

Lukas touched the clip; it felt cold against his fingertips. He turned towards the mirror that hung on his bedroom wall. He had to admit, the clip suited him quite nicely. The Dane had to be given some credit for choosing it out of anything he could have bought.

"It's nice," he whispered.

"Glad you like it," Mathias chirped.

"Lukas," Érik's deep voice reverberated around Lukas' room. Both boys turned in its general direction. "I have something for you, if you want it."

"What is it?"

The man held up a sealed, white envelope. "From your mum."

Lukas' eyes widened. "From... my mum?" The man nodded, holding the envelope out to him. "Five years and now is when she chooses to contact me?"

Five years. It was too long. He had long lost all hope of Liv Bondevik ever trying to get in touch ever again. She had never been a brilliant mother, but she could have at least given them some sign that she was alive. He sometimes wondered if she even knew she had sons sometimes. He eyed the envelope in his father's hand cautiously, before hesitantly taking it.

"What does it say?"

"It's... nothing special." Nothing special. He silently laughed, re-reading the words marked on the parchment in his mother's elegant hand.

Dear Lukas,

I don't really know why I'm writing this, but I was told to. I don't see why. You and Emil are just out there. In the garden. I can hear your laughter, and your father is looking after you. They're telling me you're not. But I can see you and hear you. You're there.

I love you.

Your mum

Lukas scowled. But he couldn't keep up the expression, which fell easily from his face. His mother had had it bad the past few years, more than he had imagined. He looked again inside the envelope. Another piece of paper was inside it, small and square shaped. He took it out. Barely a second after he saw it, it had been scrunched up into a tight ball, thrown across the room.

"Don't tell my little brother I got a letter from her," he said, before he stormed out of the room.

Mathias watched him leave, his ice blue eyes drifting to the corner in which the paper lay, crumpled. His father watched him pick it up and unfold it, straighten out the creases. It was a photo of two boys, who he recognised as Lukas and Emil, a tall, silver haired man, and a woman with long, blond hair, as yellow as gold. Her eyes were a dark amethyst colour, and full of light. All four of them were pale; all four had smiles on their lips, light in their eyes. A smile was something that Mathias had never in the past five years seen cross either of the siblings' lips.

"That's their mum," Érik nodded to the woman in the photo. Mathias looked at him for a few seconds.

"You knew he'd react the way he did. Didn't you?"

Érik nodded. "And there's something more I need to tell him."

Mathias shifted uncomfortably. "And that is?"

"She's been diagnosed with schizophrenia."

He heard a quiet gasp outside the door, the sound of moving clothing. He lowered his eyes to look at the cracks in the wooden floor. "She was taken into asylum yesterday."

Without another word, the man left. Mathias once again looked at the photo. Poor Lukas and Emil.

A large hand slipped the photo out of his own fingers. Berwald placed the photo on the bedside table, the picture facing down.

Mathias clenched his hand in a fist. "If only there was something I could do."

Tino and Berwald looked at him, their eyes full of pity. The youngest of the three took Mathias' hand and squeezed it gently, reassuringly.

"We can't do anything, let's face it, Mathias," he said sadly, "We can only wait to see what happens."

For someone who was only nine, Tino was very smart and mature, something Mathias always failed at being. He sighed and nodded, heading out of the room.

Emil stood outside, his violet eyes glistening. Oh crap, Mathias thought, had he heard all that? Both of the siblings were equally hard to read, though Emil was the easier of the two. There was nothing on his round face to suggest he had heard anything; no confusion or sadness or fear in his eyes.

"Mathias?" Emil asked quietly, "Why was big brother so upset?" Mathias gasped quietly, trying to think of an excuse.

"Don't you worry 'bout it," he chuckled, his voice wavering slightly, "Everything's fine. He's just got up on the wrong side of the bed." Emil obviously didn't believe him but he ceased asking any more.

In the five years they had been together, neither of the two had ever spoken about their past, save a few general comments about Lofoten. The whole business with their mum had Mathias greatly confused. Obviously, she wasn't the best mother, otherwise they wouldn't have ended up with his family in the first place. But she couldn't have been that bad. Could she? Selfishly, he was glad she was unable to look after them. He felt guilty feeling that, but he did. Without her being that way, he would have never met Lukas and Emil, something he couldn't imagine nowadays, now that they were as close as brothers.

He heard sobbing coming through the kitchen window. The house had a fairly large garden, with a few towering trees with dark green leaves. However the trees were so close together it felt like a wood. A small forest where there was only you and the trees. Lukas loved that place. He went there a lot, when he wanted to be alone.

Quietly, he tip-toed outside, following the sound. The boy was sat underneath a tree, looking up through the tree crown at the sky. He was singing quietly in Norwegian to himself . He looked so melancholic sitting there, desolate eyes focused on the sky.

Mathias stood there, listening to the boy's voice. When the song came to an end, he started to clap slowly. Lukas turned in his direction, eyes slightly panicked, before he realised who it was.

"What song was that?" the Dane asked, setting himself down next to the Norwegian who stayed silent for another few moment. Mathias thought he wouldn't get a reply when he was proven wrong.

"'Nocturne' by Secret Garden."

Mathias smiled. "It was beautiful." Lukas looked at him sceptically. "I mean it! You're a good singer."

"My little brother's the good singer in the family," Lukas shook his head, "I'm just good with music."

"Ever played an instrument?"

Lukas stiffened for a second, before nodding. "Yes." He looked at his feet, before adding, "It's in my wardrobe right now." Mathias wondered aloud what the instrument was. "A violin."

A violin. The Norwegian had managed to hide a violin from them for five years. He wondered whether his dad knew about the secret instrument hidden in the house.

"Can you play something for me?" Lukas waited for about five seconds before getting up to leave. "Is that a yes or a no?" Mathias stumbled up onto his feet and chased after him. The spring breeze tickled his skin, biting his cheeks as he caught up to him. The Norwegian's expression was as stoic as ever when he turned around to see the persistent Dane was following, and would follow him to his grave.

Another chapter. Woo. Btw fem!Norway is Lukas and Emil's mum and just a man who looks like an older version of Ice is their dad I guess. Any reviews, comments and corrections appreciated. ~