Norway POV:
America pressed a button on the ceiling of the truck, opening the garage door of the smaller of the two connected buildings. There was a large two story house with a wrap-around porch and a beautiful flower bed that looked to wrap around the front and sides of the house. I didn't get a very good look at the other building before we entered it, but it looked like a large shed or a metal barn of sorts. America turned off the truck once she had it parked inside and got out. I followed her lead in exiting the vehicle and walked back out into the driveway. I could hear the others coming down the lane, the popping gravel under the van's tires announcing their presence.
I turn around upon hearing metal clinking against metal and see America unlock a door at the back of the garage that looked to lead inside the house before coming to stand next to me.
POV CHANGE!
Finland's POV:
"I don't know Matthias, maybe we mixed her up with another truck? This looks pretty rural."
"No, the license plate is the same! And I've been here before, Fin, I know what I'm talking about! Just keep going, we're almost there!" Denmark exclaimed before Sweden pushed him back off of the center console from the passenger's seat. He then put his hand on my shoulder to wordlessly comfort me, I don't like driving without a map or GPS directions, I don't know why I didn't just have Matthias drive instead.
Soon enough, a clearing came into view. It held a gorgeous house and a metal barn with an open garage door in its center. America and Norway stood in front of the barn where her truck was parked. She waved, signaling for me to pull in right next to her vehicle in the empty space.
I parked the van next to her truck and turned it off, everyone immediately went to get out of the cramped, odd smelling rental.
As I walked over to where America and the others were gathering, I noticed the absolutely stunning flowerbeds in front of the house. The most eye-catching plants being the different colored roses that stood out amongst the other flowers and bushes.
"Wow, that looks beautiful," I said to America, gesturing to the flowerbeds behind her.
She turned around briefly to look at what I was pointing at before beaming at me, "Oh, thanks! It gives me something to do other than paperwork, you know?"
I nodded.
"Cool, can we go inside now?" Matthias asked impatiently, tugging on his black coat, "It's super hot out."
America chuckled as I gave him an elbow to the ribs "You should really know better than to dress like that over here, 80 some and humid is just an average July day" she giggled. Ignoring his lack of manners, America brought us through a door in the garage which led to a laundry room that she quickly led us away from and into a main entrance hall, undoubtedly where we would have entered first had we used the front door.
The hall was beautiful, the house was beautiful, it was all just so beautiful. There wasn't a chandelier or anything to make it fancy, but it was impressive all the same. Intricate woodwork lined the floors and walls, dark and light colored wood set together in mesmerizing patterns. A painted mural covered the wall at the end of the hallway opposite the door, surrounding the window with a floral and green leafy pattern. Another painting of a ship on choppy waters trailed up the stairway to the second floor.
The hall went all the way to the other end of the house, where the front door was. A staircase ascended to the second floor on the left side of the hall, the bottom step a little over a meter away from a closed door. There were three doors on the opposite side of the hall, one that was closed, one that was an empty doorway, and one was open, presumably the kitchen, though I couldn't actually see much through either doorway at this angle.
The walls were a very light gray and the floor of the hall was wood. Sweden seemed to be taking an interest in the woodwork as well as the inlay design in the hardwood floor that framed the room perfectly.
"You have a lovely home," Iceland said.
Realizing I had been forgetting my manners, I repeated the compliment, "Yes, a very lovely home."
She turns to face us and gives a bright smile, "Thank you. I have three guest rooms upstairs, you guys can divvy them up as you please, but the two rooms on the far end up there are my room and office, so please don't go in those," she said, pointing backwards, to the front of the house. "The beds don't have sheets on them though, I'll have to go get those."
"Oh, we can put those on the beds ourselves if you show us where they are," I suggest.
She nods, "Ok, I'll just throw them on top in a bit."
She walked off to the other side of the hall and we took that as our cue to claim our rooms. We divided into our usual pairs: Denmark and Norway, Sweden and me, and Iceland and Sealand.
As Sweden and I set down our things, America popped in and threw a folded set of sheets onto our bare mattress before disappearing back into the hallway to drop off sheets for the others. Once we were settled, we all met in the living room, which was through that empty doorway I couldn't see through earlier, and talked. Sweden sat next to me on the main couch with Denmark on his left while Norway sat on the morris chair near my end of the couch. Iceland sat with Sealand on the floor on the other side of the coffee table with his arms resting on the table. America had suggested that he sit in the recliner instead of her but he insisted that he would be fine on the carpeted floor.
I took a moment to take in my surroundings while Denmark chatted with America. The floor was covered in a fuzzy gray carpet that stopped at the boarder of the adjoining kitchen, where it turned to tile that was navy-blue in color. Sunlight streamed in through two medium-sized windows that looked out into the back yard of the property, which looked to be largely untamed woods. Though, I could see the corner of a vegetable garden, just barely within sight from where I sat.
(It's not quite to scale but I tried)
"Who built this?" Sweden asked, his question bringing my mind back to the conversation at hand.
"Who built what?" America questioned, tilting her head slightly.
Sweden gestured around him with his hands and she understood, "Oh, the house?"
He nodded.
"I did."
That surprised everyone, even Denmark.
"What? You never told me that! That's awesome! When did you build it?"
"Uhhh, I think I first finished it in... the 1720's, if memory serves. Needless to say, I've renovated it countless times--had to almost completely rebuild it after some pretty nasty weather we had a few decades ago," America responded casually.
"Wow, this place is old," Sealand remarked.
America chuckled and glanced at Denmark, Sweden, and me before turning back to the child near her feet. "Age is relative, sweetie. I'm sure it doesn't seem that old to your parents or your uncles," she said as she looked back to us, amusement tugging the corners of her mouth up into a curved smile. Denmark laughed and I couldn't help but chuckle slightly myself while Sweden and Norway simply nodded in agreement. My child seemed to understand, remembering that we nations are much older than him, and that three centuries isn't really that old, especially not to people who have lived for over a millennium.
"Oh, right, "Sealand said, "I forgot all you guys are so old."
"Peter!" I scolded as the room burst into laughter, mainly America and Denmark, "It is rude to call people old, especially a nice lady who welcomed you into her home, you know that!"
Peter's head sank down in shame at being called out. "Sorry Miss America-er, um, I mean Miss Amelia," he mumbled.
America didn't seem bothered in the least by his rather rude comment and waved it off, still chuckling, but I am definitely going to have a talk with him later about manners. "Ah, don' worry about it, squirt," she said, "my siblings call me old all the time."
She chuckled a bit more before meeting eyes with Iceland who was giving her a curious look. Her head tilted a bit questioningly before he spoke. "Your human name is Amelia?" he asked, the room going calm, once again.
"Yeah, why?"
"I don't know, guess I was expecting something different, like Mary or Katie or something," Iceland said quietly.
America leaned back, thinking it over before shrugging, "Yeah, I guess those are more common names. It was probably just the first name that England thought of, either that or France shot down all the other ones he thought were boring. ... what about you? What's your human name?"
"Why don't we all introduce our human names, there's no sense in you calling us by our country names outside of meetings, after all," I suggested, earning nods from all in the room.
Sealand started without a moment of hesitation, "I'm Peter, but you know that!" He exclaimed, jumping up as he proclaimed his name before looking at Iceland expectantly.
"I'm Emil," he stated looking from Peter back to Amelia.
Norway went after his brother, "Lukas," he said.
Next, Amelia looked to me, "My name is Tino," I said with a smile.
"Berwald," Sweden said.
"And you already know me." Denmark said.
"Yes, how could I forget, Matthias," Amelia said with a smile. There was a beat of comfortable silence before she checked her watch and addressed us once again. "So what're you guys going to want for dinner?" She asked, "I don't have any chicken at the moment, but I have some pork and beef that I can use for something."
I looked at my companions and shrugged, not wanting to be demanding. The others did the same with the exception of Matthias, who put his hand to his chin in thought. America looked at us expectantly, "Well, uh..." I began before I was cut off.
"Ooo!" Mattias exclaimed, his eyes lighting up, "what about that, uh, that shrimp stuff that you made that one time Prussia and I were here last month?"
"You mean the jambalaya?" Amelia asked with an amused smile stuck on her face
"Yeah, that! Please?" Matthias seemed excited. I think I've heard of jambalaya before, if Matthias is this excited about it, then it must be good.
"Sure, I've still got some shrimp in the freezer, if everyone's okay with that." America looked around the room to see if anyone was opposed to the idea.
"What's jambalaya?" Peter asked, tugging on her pantleg gently.
Amelia looked down to the child, looking him in the eyes as she answered. "Well, it's a dish with shrimp, sausage sometimes, rice, veggies, and some spices."
"Is it good?"
America laughed, a pleasant and bubbly sound, "Of course, I wouldn't make it if it was gross, silly." Peter seemed pleased and America got up from her perch on the recliner, "Though, given the time, I should get started if we don't want to be eating late."
"Yeah, all this talk of food is making me hungry," Matthias commented.
Though his remark was probably good-natured teasing at the most, I still gave him a light glare from my seat on the other side of Sweden. "I'll help you," I offered, standing as well.
"Oh! I want to help too!" Peter announced as he leapt up from his spot on the floor.
"I don't know, there's not a whole lot to help with... I'll tell you what, kid, you can pick out the dessert, how 'bout that?" Amelia said.
Peter deflated at hearing he couldn't help, but perked right back up at the mention of a dessert, "Okay!" he said as he followed her to the kitchen.
I walked over after them with Berwald right behind me. I swear, he acts like such a lost puppy sometimes. The other three followed shortly after, apparently not wanting to be so far away from all the action.
Amelia pulled some Italian sausage out of the fridge and asked me to cut it into small pieces. She then left the room momentarily and came back with a bag of shrimp in her hands. Shoving her gloves into her pocket and throwing her jacket over a free stool, she proceeded to then de-vein them in preparation for the dish as I chopped the sausage. Peter watched us closely from his perch on a kitchen stool while the other Nordics observed us casually as they made idle small talk. Once the food had been prepared the rest of the way and put on the stovetop, Amelia asked me to watch it so it didn't burn while she took Peter to the freezer in the garage to pick out a dessert. About ten minutes later they came back with a clear, round container that was topped with a bright blue lid but so fogged up from being in the freezer that you couldn't see what was inside.
"Guess what it is äiti!" Peter exclaimed, bouncing up and down as Amelia set the container down on the now clean counter.
She moved to stir the jambalaya as I moved closer to my son, "I don't know Peter, what is it?"
"Oooo~ I think I know what it is," Denmark said, eyeing the container hungerly.
"Shush! Äiti is guessing, not you!" Peter exclaimed before turning back to me and smiling expectantly, waiting for me to guess.
I sighed, the day was staring to wear on me, "Oh, I don't know... cookies maybe?"
"Nope! Apple pie!" The child exclaimed excitedly.
"Ooo! Is that the one you had Gil and me try yesterday?" Matthias asked, looking toward America.
"You mean the one you guys tried to play 'keep away' with?" She said, turning to give him a light glare, "Yeah."
Matthias pumped his fist in the air. "You're really excited about this, huh?" Norway commented in his monotone voice, curious as to why he was so excited for the American's food.
"Guys, you don't get it, her homecooked food is just so good. It doesn't get nearly as great of a reputation as it should." Matthias said passionately, waving his hands around as he spoke. I chuckled, I hadn't thought having to stay another day would lead to us having this good of a time. Even Berwald seemed to be enjoying himself, the subtle shifts in his otherwise stony-faced expression giving away his amusement.
"Matt, dude, it's just a little different and not something you eat all of the time, that's why you like it so much," Amelia said, not bothering to turn away from the stove.
Matthias seemed appalled by her statement, "No way, bro! You don't give yourself nearly enough credit. Just 'cause it's not fancy like Francy-pant's food doesn't mean it's not good!"
"Alright, alright! Thank you for the compliment, Matt," she said, this time turning around to give him a small smile. "Could you do me a favor and set the table, please? You remember where the bowls are, right?"
"Yep!" Matthias jumped up from his seat on a stool and went to a cupboard and pulled out several bowls before coming back for cups, which he set on the kitchen counter, and then he took some silverware to the dinner table. He seemed to know his way around her kitchen just as well as he did with ours back home, though I'm not really surprised. World meetings are held in America quite a bit compared to other countries, and every time they are Matthias visits America along with Prussia. The three of them seem to get along very well and always visit each other when they are in the area. They're always so energetic and lively, the perfect friend group as far as I can tell.
Though, as I take a closer look at America, I can see the outlines of dark circles under her eyes. I wonder if she has been getting enough sleep, after all, it's one thing for an old nation like me to be worn out by the end of day, but for a young nation like her to look so tired by dinner time something might be wrong. On the other hand, it could also be the meetings, they do take a toll on all of us.
Before I can ask if she's been feeling alright, she announces that dinner is ready and takes the pan of jambalaya to the dinner table, setting it on a hot pad as we follow her to the dining room. "Help yourselves," she says as she goes back into the kitchen briefly to take the pie out of the plastic container and set it on the burner next to the one she had been cooking on, presumably to expedite its warming up.
She came back into the dining room and sat down in the spot we left open for her at the head of the table. I passed the serving spoon to her after I had gotten my portion, and she passed it on to Berwald, who passed it to Lukas, then Emil, then Peter, and then Matthias put it back in the pan, having already served himself. We all dug into the food, not realizing how hungry we had been until we had taken our first bite. The food was truly delicious, as Matthias had claimed. Peter shoveled the food in his mouth without shame, Matthias doing the same before I elbowed him in the ribs, Peter was beyond my reach so I ignored him for now.
We gave our compliments to the chef, who smiled appreciatively. Soon enough, it was time for dessert, which was just as good, if not better than the main course had been. Needless to say, we were all very satisfied by the time dinner was over.
POV CHANGE!!!
Sweden's POV:
After dinner, we all agreed to shower and get changed for bed before meeting back in the living room. America and Tino took the first showers, America going upstairs and Tino going up for his clothes and toiletries before coming back down to use the downstairs bathroom. Tino came back first and Lukas went after him, America came back shortly after and Matthias went up to take his shower.
America sat down next to me after Matthias got up, which was unusual. Nations outside of the other Nordics tended to stay away from me, apparently I have a "resting bitch face" or at least that is what Matthias said. I watched curiously as she draped her long, damp hair over the back of the couch, though not for too long, as I didn't want to seem creepy. She had changed from her uniform and bomber jacket into a worn, dark blue T-shirt and gray pajama pants. I heard her breath a sigh of relief, or maybe it was contentment, then saw her turn to me out of my peripherals.
"So how are you today, Swe- er, Berwald?" She asked, her blue eyes focusing on my face instead of avoiding it. She seemed calm and relaxed, what a pleasantly strange girl, I couldn't help but release a breath of amusement. She tilted her head in confusion but maintained her smile, "What's so funny?"
I shook my head slowly, "Nothing... I'm w'll, you?"
Amelia leaned back into the couch, "Ooooh, just great, be better if we didn't have a meetin' tomorrow, though. Don' get me wrong, I love yer guys' company, but the screamin' matches get old real fast." Her accent was beginning to sound more southern, almost like those cowboys in old movies.
I nodded in agreement and a comfortable silence fell over us as we listened to Peter talk with Tino, his excitement not having depleted even a bit since we arrived. Soon enough, Lukas came back and I went to take my shower, then Matthias returned and Tino convinced Peter to go up to take his just as I came down the hall to tell Emil it was his turn as well.
"Amelia, I have a question," Tino said once Peter had gone upstairs and I had reclaimed my seat between my husband and America.
"Ok, shoot."
"I don't mean to be nosey, but what's in the locked room upstairs?" America raised an eyebrow and Tino explained. "Well, I wasn't sure which door out of the two was the guest room, since both of the doors were closed, and I know it wasn't your room or office because your office door was open just a little," Tino said, his voice sounding a little nervous as he waved his hands around in an attempt to better explain.
"Oh, yeah, that's just the weapons closet, I figured I better lock it since there's a little one around. I know he's smart enough not to touch anything, but just in case, you know?" America responded, her voice sounding just sheepish enough to tell that she knew it was odd and didn't want us to freak out.
"Wha- a weapons closet?" Tino sounded alarmed.
"Well, most of them are collectors items at this point, but um, the rest is just in case someone were to break in, or something. ... Oh shut up, Matt!" America quickly elaborated before yelling at Matthias, who seemed to think the whole situation was hilarious as he cackled loudly from his spot on the recliner.
"Oh come on, this is funny!" Matthias said between giggles while both Tino and Amelia looked like they wanted to hit him. "I mean, for starters, Tino has sniper rifles at home and I have my battle axe, so it's not like having weapons is weird for nations. Plus, aren't you still involved in your military?"
"Not as much as I used to be, but yeah," America responded, relaxing a bit.
"See? It's nothing to get worked up about," Matthias finished with a smile, seeming to have successfully calmed both Tino's concerns and Amelia's nerves.
"I guess you're right," Tino said before turning back to America, "So you collect them, right? Are there only guns, or...?"
"Oh, I collect all kinds of stuff, guns, knives, a couple spears and longbows... I even have an old katana I found in Japan that I managed to restore and several medieval era weapons, but those aren't at this house." Amelia seemed happy to talk about her collection, and was probably just glad that no one freaked out about having an arsenal in the house. Tino and Amelia continued to talk about weapons, with Matthias chipping in occasionally, until both Emil and Peter returned from taking their showers.
Peter suggested that we watch a movie and no one had any complaints, so America turned on the TV and let him search through her DVD collection in the entertainment center beneath it. Eventually we settled on a movie called Luca. Peter had insisted on it after seeing that the main characters on the cover were sea monster things.
The rest of the night was enjoyable and the movie was good, though Peter could barely stay awake for the entire thing. By the end credits he was falling asleep on Tino, who had let him sit on his lap, and Emil looked almost as tired as Peter did. Needless to say, we decided to call it a night and go to bed. Tino carried Peter upstairs with him, bringing up the rear of the group while Amelia stayed downstairs a little longer to put the DVD away.
Tino dropped off a sleeping Peter onto the bed he shared with Emil. I watched from the doorway, then Tino and I went to our room and got in bed. "Well, this has been nice," Tino said as he snuggled up next to me, laying his head on my chest.
"Mm," I agreed.
"It almost makes me appreciate the meetings getting extended."
"Mm," I wasn't sure if I'd go that far, but I agreed anyways.