Title: Chance
Characters: England, China; mentions of France and Portugal.
Rating: PG
Summary: 1596 – England's first attempt at establishing relations with China ends in failure. Or does it?
Notes: Thanks for the help with the Chinese and Portuguese! You lovelies know who you are!
I tried to keep the Portuguese phrases short, since people do that when learning a new language (the idea China learning Portuguese makes me giggle). As for England, I don't think he cared to perfect his Portuguese. He's a proud, stubborn Briton (but he totally had to know SOME Portuguese, right?) Footnotes at the end. Enjoy!
x
The atmosphere reeked of murky water and vast forest. Reeked—that was the only word England could think of as he trudged along the grimy waters, stepping in mud here, almost tripping over a rather large root there. He sadly watched as his once shiny black boots sunk into the soft earth yet again. England sighed.
Why was he lost in China again? Oh right, France. Actually, it wasn't France's fault, but England couldn't muster up enough energy to mentally curse anyone but France.
In reality, it had begun with a happy Portugal—an all too happy Portugal, which hadn't bothered England at all. Portugal had mentioned something about an oriental beauty with long hair the colour of ebony and eyes that sparkled under the light of the sun. France had laughed at the thought, yet he had decided to check out this beauté for himself. At once, France had wandered off to China. France swore it was for religious purposes, of course, but that all too familiar wink told England otherwise. And even though England had heard rumours that France had failed miserably in China, once he returned, the smile France wore on his face had rivalled that of Portugal's.
England had shaken his head with disgust. Didn't France have better things to do than to harass other empires? Still, the thought of heading east to set up trade, which Portugal swore was remarkable beyond belief, got England thinking. It also got Queen Elizabeth thinking, and soon enough, England boarded a ship and set sail to China. Three ships with the best crew England had to offer had begun their journey towards the exotic Orient.
England sighed as he threw himself on the ground, leaning his back against a tree. That was fi—no. That was six months ago. The crew had barely made it to China alive, and all who was left now was England. He closed his eyes and grimaced, the letter in his pocket, the letter Queen Elizabeth had so carefully written, was now a blurry, wet mess.
The entire quest had been a waste, and now England was going to starve. Or be eaten by mosquitoes. Whichever fate came first. Where was the capital anyway? Or Portugal's would-be colony? There was no sign of a village anywhere, and with night upon him, England could only smile and curse his luck.
x
The incessant buzzing, that's what would drive England absolutely insane. He swatted his hand at the offending mosquitoes, mumbling something about peace and quiet, but the buzzing resumed. "Blasted blood suckers," he groaned. The loud cheering wasn't helping at all, and neither were the gongs and—
Drums?
England's eyes flew open and he quickly stood up. Those sounds … they were music and people. Besides the disgusting flock of insects inhabiting the forest, there were actually people around. He quietly followed the noise, making sure to keep hidden behind the trees just in case. He wondered if there was some sort of celebration going on. Maybe a signal for war? Or perhaps …
Green eyes widened. England's jaw dropped, and for a moment he forgot all sense of decorum.
The Emperor, or someone of equal importance, England assumed, was arriving to his palace. The sound of drums, of music, of people cheering, and of armies marching drowned England's thoughts. Bright colours, cheerful faces, and melody painted a scene of festivity and harmony.
England would have felt homesick, but the sights were enough to make him smile. He couldn't see too much hiding behind the trees, but his position granted him a perfect spot to observe the people. His eyes roamed the scenery, taking in every inch of the spectacle. And what a spectacle it was! England had never seen anything so majestic in his entire life.
That is, until his green eyes met striking golden ones.
For a brief second, time stood still. England closed his mouth and swallowed, not sure what to make of the maiden a few steps in front of him. Alarm was far from England's mind, even though the woman had every right to scream, to give away his position. But instead of running away or hiding, England's eyes slowly examined the Oriental beauty. She was dressed in long, bright robes and wore her hair in what appeared to be a prestigious fashion. A hat of some sort rested on top of her head, and her back was straight, proud even.
The drums continued on in the background, and England found it nearly impossible to look away from the woman. He smiled like one of those love struck fools Shakespeare enjoyed writing about and took a step forward, finally making a move to exit the forest.
Golden eyes widened. The girl took a step back, for a split second glancing off to the side, only to have her eyes pin England's gaze once more.
"Xiǎoxīn." Be careful.
The words, barely a whisper, fell on deaf, ignorant ears. England's mouth opened, but words failed to form. It was then he realized something, someone had attacked him from behind. He coughed, the pain quickly shooting from the left side of his chest all throughout his body. But he never tore his gaze away from the woman. Alarm coloured her beautiful features.
He faintly heard his own voice, "Were you the maiden Portugal spoke about, I wonder."
The world turned black.
x
Idiot. That's what England was. He was a bumbling idiot.
Slowly, England opened his eyes only to close them again. Sunlight poured into the room; it was far too bright to keep his eyes open. He sighed and winced at the pain in his chest. England didn't have to see the wound or the weapon to know that some sort of blade was lunged at him. He knew better than to let his guard down. What would Elizabeth think?
An exhasperated sigh escaped his lips. He attempted to open his eyes again.
And there they were. Those same golden eyes, wide and curious and concerned, were staring down into his. England swallowed, blinking in disbelief. "It's you," he mumbled when the image didn't disappear, and he groaned a little as he sat up.
The maiden took a step back, straightening her posture before frowning a little.
England stared at her; he eyed the exotic, bright clothing, the elaborate hair, the golden, peculiar gaze staring back at him. This woman had to be important. Not just any woman would have guards accompany her. No; this woman had to be a princess, or perhaps the que—
"Você está bem?"
England blinked. Was that ... Portuguese?
Slowly, as if a child were attempting to speak his very first words, England opened his mouth. "Sim." Yes, I am okay. But who are you?
The woman blinked and finally a small smile graced her lips. England looked off to the side.
"Você não é português?"
Of course I'm not Portuguese, England wanted to blurt out, but this woman wouldn't understand him. He frowned a little, searching for the right words, "Não. Eu sou Inglaterra." No, I am England. His eyes once more rested upon the woman's features.
She raised a brow, confused. Of course she didn't know what, where, or even who England was. He tore his gaze away yet again, this time searching for ...
"Perfect," he breathed, wincing as he threw himself out of bed and towards his clothes, which rested comfortably atop of a small table.
"Aiya," he heard the maiden exclaim, moving closer to him to observe what he was doing.
England smiled and held up a map, a faded map, for the woman to see. He felt almost like a child, excitingly pointing to a figure on the map, "Inglaterra. England." He then gestured to himself and simply explained, "I am England."
The maiden blinked, her sparkling eyes matching her bright smile. "Yīnggélán," she repeated, pointing at his home on the map. She looked back up at him and their eyes met for a brief second. A second much too long.
"Eu sou," and her eyes were on the map again, her delicate finger now pointing at "Zhōngguó." She smiled, golden eyes melting into green ones, "China. I am China."
England smiled, resisting an urge to brush his fingers through the dark locks of hair. "Que formosura," he murmured, his cheeks colouring a dark shade of red a moment later. What a beauty? Are you mad? You've been at one too many of Shakespeare's plays! "Desculpe," he mumbled, apologizing for his sudden declaration.
But England didn't have to worry about embarrassing China. A faint blush was quickly covered by a genuine, warm smile. "Huānyíng," murmured the fellow nation. "Bem-vindo à China." Welcome to China.
China laughed, golden eyes seemingly more radiant than before. It was then that England knew he had found the gem Portugal had spoken about.
x
*The Portuguese, in specific Jorge Álvares and his crew, arrived in southern China (Guangzhou) in 1513. In 1516, the Portuguese reached Canton. In 1535, Portuguese traders obtained the rights to carry out trading activities, but they could not stay on land. By 1557, the Portuguese established a permanent settlement in Macau, paying an annual rent of 500 taels of silver. It wasn't all peace and love, but to be allowed to stay on shore deserves an applause.
*The French, specifically the Jesuits, first attempted to reach China in 1552. While the Jesuits were a French group, Spaniards, Italians, and Portuguese were also part of the group. Their first mission failed, but in 1582, the Jesuits returned to once again initiate work in China. I'll let you look up what they did.
*Queen Elizabeth I of England wanted to expand England's trade east, so in 1596 she granted three ships permission to travel to China. Benjamin Wood was the commander. She sent along a note to the Emperor, written in Latin, which basically requested trading rights between the nations. It also granted Chinese permission to visit and good status in England. She expected her people to be treated with respect in China as well. Sadly, no one knows what happened to the ships. It's almost certain that they never made it to China. *took some artistic freedom there, oops*