Tomas: Norway
Larens: Netherlands
Egil: Iceland

Don't worry, this will be getting gayer.

"This revolution-" he paused to hiccup, still clutching his beer, before turning back to the microphone, "Will be g-GLORIOUS!" Mads shouted, and grinning in the bask of the roar of the audience. "For Flemke!" he yelled, lifting his beer and letting the crowd echo her name, a clinking Mexican wave following up as everyone raised a glass. "For Timo!" he shouted, much to the same effect. "And finally, for you sad bastards-" he paused and motioned towards his table.

His friends, although usually the sombre type, were equally rowdy and charming with the atmosphere. The atmosphere of change!

They called it the Cavern - it was the basement of an old pub, and it was amazing. It had been used to store beer, however the ever so sweet previous owners had boarded and closed up without removing anything.

"My good friends!" Mads rolled up to the table, face alight with beer and the atmosphere and the sheer ambience of the insane night.

"That was good. Actually." Tomas was the first to speak. He nodded sincerely at his friend, and raised his beer.

Mads was happy to comply and clinked his glass against his,looking him in the eye as they mouthed a "Skol!".

"Not bad, Mads. I usually hate it when you start yellin', but tonight…" Tomas's little brother, Egil, didn't look too unabashed himself. He had a smirk in the form of a smile. "I actually felt something."

"My pleasure, Egil! Now let's get you really feeling something!" Mads promised, before grinning and tickling him.

Egil keeled over, gasping for help as he floundered, arms bashing the table and throwing off glasses of beers with a loud smash, whilst Mads' laughter drowned it out. Tomas, bemused, watched with a small smile, before quickly straightening up and nudging Mads urgently. Mads, who went on tickling with glee, whilst Egil screeched, before Mads lifted him up in the air, making him shriek louder.

"Put me down you huge, stupid man!" he spluttered, before realising there was a man in front of them. "Mads! Stop it!"

"Ahah! You'll have to beg more! Scream my name, my MINION!" Mads shrieked with delight, hoisting Egil up - and spotting the tall, glowering stranger staring right at him. "Uh - MINION! Go!" he said, suddenly dropping Egil down. He fell right on his bum, with a little bounce. Before Egil could complain, Mads made himself swift. "Hello there- stranger." he grinned, pushing aside the glitter of shattered glass. He put his elbow on the table, trying to be suave.

"Hey," the stranger replied bluntly, clearly unimpressed.

He glanced down at the man shuffling across the floor, rubbing his ass as his brother helped him to his feet. Mads shifted to stand strategically in front of him.

"How can help a…" he paused to not-so-subtly look him up and down. "Sexy man like you?" he grinned, half beer talking, half Mads being complete moron.

Tomas signed and facepalmed audibly. The stranger did not smile back.

"That's my scarf." he said bluntly. "Femke's my sister. Was. Give it back." he said.

"What?! No! I've never seen this man before in my life!" he retorted suddenly, standing up right. He clutched to the blue and white scarf around his neck, staring him down accusationally. "Femke and I were in love ! For, years!" Mads spluttered. "If you're her brother- or whatever, how come I never heard of ya before?! Huh?!"

He raised one eyebrow, however then realised the two men surrounding Mads were glaring him down too. He could definitely take the little one, but the taller one had a weird glimmer about him he did not like. Nonetheless, the big one in the middle was the real issue.

"I was away. She wrote me a letter. See." he said flatly, reaching into his long brown coat and retrieving it. He held it out in front of him, not wanting his precious, crumpled piece of paper be tarnished by the sticky wooden table.

Mads learnt forward and squinted at it, his jaw slowly dropping. However, he turned up to face him with a scowl. He slammed his beer down, making it splash. The stranger snapped the letter away reflectively, stuffing it back into his pocket.

"Great. Some fake letter. Listen - Femke 'been dead like, 4 months now. We was together for 3 years. You never showed up! She waited for you for years, and you never 'ever came back!" he spat, suddenly buffing out his chest and standing upright. He started rubbing his fist, to which Tomas stepped back, taking Egil in tow. "You're no brother, she died a stranger to ya!" Mads said bitterly.

"This should be good," Egil muttered. Tomas said nought.

"Hey." the man said suddenly, squaring up. He had a look on his face, the dark, blank one people wound themselves into when they were about to fight. He didn't blink as he edged forwards, Mads doing the same, until their foreheads were nearly touching, like bulls facing each other off, horns bucking and ready to gore. Suddenly, he reached forwards, grabbing Mads by the collar. He shrieked, making the crowd of people in the cavern turn to face them. A blanket of silence fell over them as he was dragged onto the table, both of them stood on the low coffee table, feet scwleching as they moved over the beer stained wood. Mads' face wound up, and he shoved his hands onto this asshole's shoulders, gripping them tightly. They began to circle one another, glaring each other down.

Tomas began to look just slightly nervous. His best bro was up there, as Mads often christened himself. They reminded him of animals, ready to fight. He knew Femke well - if he knew one thing, it was that this was something between family. Whilst he was evaluating whether he wanted to get involved with this, Mads pulled the weirdo up by his collar.

"You… I know ya name!" he said ferociously. "I remember. I ought not to," Mads reckoned, glaring him in the eye. "You. Lars… Rens… Somethin' like that…" the words were sour in his mouth, and his face twisted as he tried to recall. "Larens van der Horst. That's you! The big brother!" he laughed suddenly, however his grasp tightened. "LARENS VAN DER HORST!" he threw his head back and screamed. "Captain LARENS van'der fuckin'... HORST!" he spat, laughing maniacally. Then, he reeled, and headbutted him right in the face.

"Argh!" Larens spat back, hands flying to cup his nose. Blood splattered out from underneath, dripping down his chin and onto his jacket. "Why, you…" he glimmered, lowering his fist. His nose was clearly broken and gushing blood. It kind of worked, with his green eyes. "Alright. We play your game," he muttered, before looking around at the silent crowd. He held out an accusational finger and began to yell. "This man, MADS THOMASSEN, is actually MATHIAS-"

Before he could finish, Tomas had dived into the two of them and barreled them both off the table. Mads, who landed with a bang on his head, made an audible fuss, whilst Larens fell on his back, a bit surprised and a bit bewildered. The crowd, disappointed by the lack of real action, splintered away, whilst Egil rushed over to help them up. Tomas took Mads; Egil took Tomas.

Larens, who was staggering to his feet, blurted at Thomas, "Why'd you do that?!"

Mads was looking at him, bright eyed and visibly afraid. "How'd you know who I am?!" he hissed back.

"Hah! A tall blonde guy comes outta nowhere, speakin' Danish, speakin' Swedish, speakin' English, chatting out his arse…" Larens glimmered. "It's perfectly clear who ya are, Prince Mathias. I take it you're the Knight who also disappeared?" he grunted, looking at Tomas. "Yeah. You are. Sir Haraldsen. That's you. The antiking's son."

Tomas stood up straight then. "Punch him, Mads," he uttered, before Egil stepped in and grabbed the recoiling Mads' arm, charging up to punch.

Larens, although he shuffled back, glared down Mads. "Give me my scarf back. Tha's all I need."

Mads glimmered. "Alright," he started, standing up straight. He had a hot trickle of blood running down his neck from the back of his head from where he fell. "Femke for Femke. I see how it is. Gimme that letter. You can have the stupid scarf." his blood was starting to stain it, turning the blue purple, Tomas observed from the back.

The three were pale in the face, sicklier than usual, terrified of someone in here finding out. They'd be spit roasted alive, in the least sexy way possible, battered to death by those whose lives had been destroyed by the regime. Egil stiffened as Larens continued.

"This is all I got left of her, you know?" Mads scowled. "You don't know much that means. You think you're entitled to it, you take it. It's yours." he unwound it slowly, holding it out to Larens like it was tainted. It was dirty and bloodied now, the one thing Mads cherished like a rare gem, messied with the state of the floor. The blue was the only colourful thing in that sepia room, however grubby it had become.

"I'm a tradin' man," Larens reasoned with a grunt, reaching into his pocket and handing over the wretched thing. "Fine."

Mads snatched it out of his hands, and passed him the scarf in lieu. He felt naked without it, however recoiled into his comrades.

"Now go," Tomas ordered, staring him down. "You tell anyone about us…"

Larens clicked his mouth, slowly backing away. "I'm a hard man, but I don't know anything," he uttered, wrapping the scarf around his neck.

Mads watched as he disappeared into the crowd, before looking anxiously at Egil and Tomas. "We gotta get out of here."

Larens,

It's been hard since you left - Mother died not long ago. Of course, by the time this reaches you in Thailand or Singapore or wherever you are it would have been much longer. Either way, I thought you should know.

At the time of writing, I'm in one of the housing projects. I'm in a room with at least 10 others - but people come and go. Mads tells me they're taking them to be cleaned. But don't worry; I met someone, someone precious and wonderful and a bit off. I think you'd like him, 'Rens; he's like you in a lot of ways.

It's hard to make something in this weird place but I promise you, I'll make you a cozy scarf for when ya get home. It'll be blue and white, like the sea when it snowed that one time back home. And you started eating the snow coz' you thought it was cheese! Even the yellow stuff! I still promise I'll never tell anyone about that.

You see snow a lot up here. Mads likes it. I always slip but he's always pickin me back up. He tells me I'll need a pair of proper boots - I think I'll try making some, like you did yours. I can't wait till you get home all rich and famous and you can get us outta here for good. I wanna go home, 'Rens. I hate being here without you. Mads and his brothers - they make it easier. They know how to get beer. I feel like less of an outsider when I'm with em.

You probably heard the news about this years ago but I heard they want to make all lower class women infertile. It sounds crazy. I don't know how they're gonna do that. I think it's just a stupid rumour. Either that or the lower class men. Way less invasive, ain't it!

I am gonna get out of here though, Larens. I don't know when you'll be able to come, but it'll be great. You'll be an uncle by then! We'll be together. You can meet Mads, his brothers. They speak English, you know?! They said they'll teach me. I told em I'd teach them Dutch. Dank je! If they hear us speaking anything but Swedish, though, you lose a finger.

I whisper Dutch to Mads sometimes and he whispers back in his weird tongues, English and Danish. We just talk gibberish, but it means the world. I cry sometimes, Mads isn't allowed in here with me, so I'm all alone. But I think of you and Nintije and what it would be like if you were here. You know us - we don't get soppy, but I miss just being together. We were together all the time before you left. I miss your oil paints, I miss your weird poetry. I even miss the cheap tobacco you would sneak in. I wanna get married and have you there - I wanna have you around again. Why'd you have to leave, Larens? Do you remember what you said before you left? "Women are bad luck on ships"! You cheeky bastard, my idiot brother.

I'll be thinking of you, Larens. I love Mads, I do, he's all I got, but truthfully, you're my family. I can't wait to be with you again. I feel incomplete without ya, I do. Larens, truth be told, I shouldn't be telling you this but I will. I've rewritten this letter about twelve times and I can't not tell you. You need to know.

I started a bit of a resistance. Please don't be mad, or weird. I know what you're like. It's just not fair the way we're made to live here: we ain't allowed to leave, we ain't allowed to wait our hair down, we can't dress in anything but them awful dresses. They're starting to make us cover our hair. I heard that they're taking away baby girls, Larens; I know you can't stand the idea of that happening to me, when I was a baby. And what happens when I have a baby? Eventually, you know. Baby's gotta have their uncle around. If I do have a girl, I'll call her Laurel. After you.

But I don't think I'll be allowed one, Larens. That's why we gotta break out. I heard this horrid rumour - apparently they're taking the fertile women and turning them into baby machines. Just put in brothels and made to have babies. It's sick. And you can't protect me from where you are. I gotta protect myself. Please, do what you gotta do - just please, promise, you'll come home soon.

Your terrible, but absolutely adoring sister,

Femke x

The letter lay limp in Mads' hand as he held his forehead with forlorn fingers. He'd snuck the letter out for Femke years ago, sworn to secrecy and privacy. Larens won't open a letter with a broken seal, she'd warned him.

Some 20-something years ago, a dam broke after a bomb was dropped on it during the war. It meant there was water - a ton of it. It drowned the entire Netherlands and Belgium, which was around the time Larens and Femke must have left, Mads calculated. She'd written so forlornly about home, it was hard to make it feel like she'd ever really felt at home with him. Then again, he thought with a pang, all of Denmark was underwater now, too.

It's strange, trying to feel at home in a foreign land. It would have been nice if he could have chosen where to go - but he escaped like a rat jumping off a drowning boat, and found himself in Stockholm.

"I found myself in Stockholm," Mads repeated out loud, tasting the lie in his throat.