"Ber!" Mathias shouted, running down the stairs. His adopted brother poked his head out from behind the kitchen doorway.

"What 's it?" he mused.

"Do ya know when dad's coming home? He's been away an awfully long while." Mathias' dad spent a lot of his time at work, but he always found time for his three sons, Mathias, Berwald and Tino. None of the three boys were related but they felt like a family. His father had adopted both Berwald and Tino in the past two years, and the house felt like it grew warmer the longer they stayed.

Then he heard the cling of keys in the front door. Mathias turned in the sound's direction. His father stood in the doorway, a smile on his face. Mathias had only seen that look twice before – once when Berwald came to live with them, the other when Tino did. What could be the reason this time? The seven year old waited, a grin on his inquisitive, bright face.

"Hello boys," his father said, his tone cheery like the rest of his face. His posture as he came in was relaxed and he didn't look weary like he usually did returning from work.

"I have a surprise for you," the man continued, covering the gap in the ajar door with his body.

"What is it?" Mathias asked. He heard Berwald move next to him. Tino's footsteps reverberated off the walls as the small four year old ran down the stairs to join them, his violet eyes sparkling. The man smirked. He took a step to the side, pulling the door open completely.

Outside, stood two young boys who looked about Tino's age. The one who looked slightly younger with silver hair and violet eyes looked terrified, and hid behind the other boy, with hair of platinum blond and cerulean eyes. His face had a neutral look, but his dark eyes showed just the slightest sign of fear, though it was barely noticeable. They were both quite pretty young boys, Mathias had to admit.

"Mathias, Tino, Berwald," the man spoke calmly, "This is Emil," he gestured to the silver haired toddler, "and Lukas. They'll be living with us from now onwards." Mathias and Tino grinned and a small smile spread on Berwald's lips.

"Hey, I'm Mathias, it's great to meet you both!" Mathias exclaimed, shaking the older boy's hand. The boy (Lukas?), replied with a quiet "hi". Then he felt his father's hand on his shoulder, pulling him gently away. He knelt down so he was eye level with the two boys. Then he started speaking in what Mathias thought was Danish, but he changed his mind about it quickly. The pronunciation was slightly different and the words weren't quite right. He took a step back and whispered to Berwald,

"You understand any of that?" Berwald shook his head.

"'t's not Swedish." Mathias nodded. There was no point in asking Tino. It was definitely not Finnish.

The blond man stood up again, and looked at the three idling in the middle of the corridor.

"Lukas and Emil are Norwegian-Icelandic. They've lived in Lofoten, in Norway all their lives so far. Mathias and Ber, you might be able to talk to them some, Norwegian, and even Icelandic, isn't too far from Swedish and Danish," he looked at Tino apologetically, "I'm afraid Finnish is too far off from both Norwegian and Icelandic."

Tino beamed. "Don't worry," he chimed, "Ber's been teaching me Swedish. And I can always wait anyway."

The man nodded. "Good. I'll be trying to help them with English as much as I can, but you know how my job is sometimes, being in charge of everything," he sighed, discontented, before finishing his speech, "I'll leave them to you three for now." He patted Lukas on the back, making his shoulders stiffen, before making his way up the stairs.

Mathias made eye contact with Berwald and recognised that they both had the same desire to talk to the two new additions to the family. However he knew Berwald well enough to know he wouldn't co-operate so he let his eyes connect to Tino's, who seemed to know exactly what to do. Tino came up behind Emil and Mathias behind Lukas and they pushed the two boys into the living room. Berwald followed them in, his step quick behind the two.

The two boys looked at them in confusion. Mathias grinned pushing Lukas onto the sofa and sitting down next to him. Berwald sat himself down next to Emil. Tino sat on the floor cross-legged, looking up at them.

"So," Mathias started in Danish. Swedish, Danish and Norwegian had quite a few similarities. Maybe they would somehow be able to break the language border. "What was Lofoten like?"

Lukas' eye widened slightly, probably hearing the name of his home district. He thought for a second.

"Det var vakkert," he said after a while. Mathias, who caught two thirds of the sentence, turned to Berwald who sighed and translated.

"'Vakker' prob'ly means beaut'ful."

Mathias grinned. "See? We can more or less work things they say out."

After a little while investigating into as much detail of the two boys' past, Mathias found himself alone in the room with the five year old boy. Lukas watched him, his sapphire pools following Mathias' every move. He smiled to him warmly.

"You'll like it here," he said in English, even though he knew there was a very small chance he would be understood by the Norwegian sitting next to him, "With you and Emil around, it's sure to feel even more like a family." The Norwegian listened to him speak but didn't say anything. After a few moments Mathias carried on. "Now we've more people to fill the emptiness. I wonder if mum would've liked it," he caught his breath and shook his head. In that moment he turned his head in Lukas' direction. "I wonder what your family back in Norway's like. Why you're here. Whatever the case, I'm glad you're here now, out of all the places in the world. " He got up and started walking out. "G'night, Lukas."

The Norwegian watched the Dane walk out of the before getting up himself. He walked over to the oaken shelf by the side of the room, his hand trailing along the spines of the books, his pale hand lingering on a white hard-back. He slid it out carefully, inspecting the yellowed with age pages.

"Asbjørnsen and Moe," he turned to see the man who took him, who he believed to be called Érik. He stood watching him. Nodding, he said, "Good folklore collection." The man walked over to him, kneeling so that they were on eye level. "Norwegian, I believe."

"Father used to read this book to us when we couldn't fall asleep," the boy admitted, looking the man in the eye. He hesitated for a second before asking, "Do you really think my brother and I are going to fit in around here?"

The man nodded. "Of course." He straightened himself up, before saying, "Emil is already in bed, fast asleep. I'll take you up to your room. I hope the boys weren't causing you too much havoc."

Lukas sighed. "That one with the stupid hair, Mathias I think, was pretty annoying. But overall it wasn't too troublesome. Don't know if I can put up with it for the rest of my life though."

Érik laughed. "I hear that a lot about my son, would you believe. Come. It's late."

Yeah uh first chapter. It gets better I promise! Any reviews or corrections are welcome, as I don't speak Norwegian (though I aim to!).