It was spring. Evidence was all around as the people came out of their houses with a smile on their faces. Flowers started to bloom by doorsteps. The heavy winter furs that were required to stay warm were thrown off for lighter fabrics. Even the people seemed happier. No longer in fear of dying from starvation due to the cold months. That was replaced from simply starving in general, but there was a difference than most people seemed to understand.
Two men sat next to each other in the Palace of Fontainebleau. One of the men had dark brown hair that while was short, seemed to be messy with no hope of fixing it. Green eyes met the other man. Long and beautiful blond hair that was tied to keep some of the locks out of his face. The two men went back and forth with each other. One spoke Spanish, but was greeted with French in return. And so the conversation went on.
"More and more stories are coming in about this new world," the Spaniard said. "I have not been able to see this with my own eyes, but the letters I manage to read are fascinating. Trees covered in fruits that we have never seen! I want you to try something later. I believe that it may even surpass your food."
The French man laughed. "Impossible. Though it'll beat the English." A small joke between the two. Their shared hatred for the English throne made the two bond. On top of their religious similarities made them good allies between their bosses. "Speaking of the devil, I have heard news from a spy. They have informed my boss that England himself is to travel to the new world?"
He frowned, sitting up a bit in his chair. The relaxed smile that was one on the tanned face of the Spaniard soon faded away. Though his nation had first visited this new world, he had not set foot on it. And now England was going. "Why? To convert people to his religion?"
"No. Settle, I've heard."
A dry laugh erupted from the man. "Settle? Set up colonies there? England would never leave his palace for the wooden structures of colonies. There has to be another reason he's going."
France nodded. He had thought the same. But the Spaniard seemed to have a passion whenever he got upset. Getting him riled up made for a better conversation. "It may be because of what Finland said. He heard rumors of a child running around the new world when he visited all those years ago. Tanned skin, but with blond hair and blue eyes. Clearly of European style and not like the savages. A boy who hasn't aged."
"France, are you implying that this new world has a representation?" Spain thought that would be insane. Perhaps one that looked like the savages, but to have a blond hair little boy running around in deer skin was very odd. "It could be a child from when Finland visited. He had a few there that remained. The savages could have ran the town and took him captive?"
France paused. It was unlikely, but so was the idea of a representation of the new world. "I suppose we'll have to go and find out. Do you believe that Romano will allow you to be gone for that long?"
Spain laughed, shaking his head. "I doubt it. I will probably go in a few years. You must go. Find this boy for me if you do. Romano might have a little friend just yet." He could imagine the two playing. His precious Romano with the little deer skinned boy."
"Well, I do have to beat dear old England. Though his ship has left before mine. Might be a little too late."
England had never felt worse.
His stomach threatened to lunge whenever the boat hit a rocky wave. He was able to get used to it and hold down a piece of bread or soup every now and then, but other foods refused to go down. It was hell. He simply prayed that they would hit land soon. After months of being on board, he was ready to jump off and swim the rest of the way.
England rose from his small bed. He was luckier than the others. He and the captain actually had their own rooms. His wasn't as fancy. A bed with a desk and a small wardrobe for clothing. It didn't need to be fancy anyhow. Soon they would dock and build houses. Beautiful houses. Then he would take his leave after a month and return home to tell his King about his findings.
Three months. It had been three months since he had last seen land. Although this was the adventure of a lifetime, he was now regretting taking up his king and asking to go. He had explained it as his duty as nation. Giving a long lecture on his responsibilities. His King managed to be convinced a few days before the journey was headed out. While it was true what he said, he had his own motive for going on this trip. The legend from the Nordic nations that spoke about a blonde little girl in savage clothing. The little girl that never would grow up. If he could find this child as his people colonized the nation, he would be able to keep the little one under his rule. France and Spain would never get their hands on it. His empire could expand to even more greatness.
"Mister England! Mister England!" The door to his room was opened suddenly. Joseph, one of the younger boys, smiled brightly as he entered. "The lookout spotted land! We finally found land!"
England stood quickly. His legs wobbling to hold his weight as he went up the stairs. It was very faint, but in the distance land was there. Trees that already looked to reach to the sky. Green seemed to be everywhere. It was one of the most beautiful things he had ever been able to witness. Even if he was still hours away from touching the ground, he already knew deep down that this would be a place of wonder. The little fairies that always danced in his eyes seemed to be excited. Even flying away from him to get there before the ship.
"By God's grace." The captain took off his hat. It seemed as if the land put a spell over everyone there. "We've finally made it. Once we're close enough we'll start getting people on the smaller boats. Mister England, you shall be on one of the first."
"Yes sir."
It took three more hours until the ship was close enough to begin lowers boats. England was there with around fifteen others. Mostly men had came on this trip, but there were a few ladies who were either single and needing a new home or decided to come with their husbands. But frankly on this trip, there weren't very many.
Once they arrived on land, England scrambled to get off the boat. His feet touched the sandy beaches and he fell. Hands dug into the sand, relishing in the warmness and the comfort that the strip of land. Besides the beaches it seemed to grow into thicker and thicker trees. And somewhere in those trees hid the little girl that never grew.
"Louis, did we dock on course?" England asked, glancing to a man in his thirties. He watched him get out the map he carried around to look, trying to pin where they were.
"It appears we are close. Why do you ask, Mister England?" He asked. "Are you looking for something? Do you believe in the rumors of golden cities?"
England laughed. "That is only Spanish propaganda. Nothing more than to enchant foolish Spaniards into leaving behind everything. Do not believe those rumors."
Louis gave a quick nod. He went to the others when he saw that England wanted nothing more of him. To him, it seemed as if the nation was mad. Staring into the forest as if he would break out into a sprint in a moments notice. "Only God knows what he's looking for." He muttered as he rejoined the group of men.
As the rest of the men spoke about where to set up camp and preparing to see if the ground was steady enough to hold a house, England slowly made his way into the forest. He had a few things going for him. Even if he met the savages, they could not kill him. Nations like he only died if the nation itself collapsed. So unless these savages managed to catch a ride on a ship and defeat the great English, he would be fine. Besides, he heard how they thought of the white man. Perhaps they would see him as a sort of god and take him to the little girl?
The forest was filled with beautiful things. Deer stood and stared at him before they ran away. New types of animals at his feet. Even beautiful flowers he had never seen before laid all over the woodland floor. It was as if he had slipped into a heaven of some sorts. Where man had not touched even the slightest inch.
England was beginning to lose hope about the rumors of the little girl. He swore they landed in the right place. Positive even. But the woods were starting to look all of the same with no hope in breaking it. Perhaps he was fooled with old Finnish rumors. Besides, it was a country filled with savages. There would be little hope that a pale skinned girl would be representing the entire nation. But he felt so stupid. He wanted it to be tree. He wanted to believe that they landed in the correct place so he could at least attempt to find her. Pray to God that he wasn't off and now just a foolish man lost in the woods.
However, it seemed as if fate had been on the English side.
A sudden yell jolted him to look up instead of at his feet. In front of him stood a female, but not what he imagined. She was tall. Long black hair that went down to her waist. In terms of clothing she was barely covered. At least not to European standards. In her hand was a knife of sorts that looked just as deadly as his own.
As his green eyes connected to her brown ones, England took a step back. It wasn't like in the story books that he saw a flash of light and suddenly knew her entire life story. That was just make believe for children. However, he did see something. Only nations possessed this trait. While their skin could be clear and body healthy, their eyes always gave them away. Showing how old they truly were. That their eyes had seen wars and blood shed. As their bosses died and suddenly wearing black became more than just a fashion trend or needed to stay warm.
The woman spoke but England couldn't understand. How nations learned languages were complicated. Either they could sit down and attempt to master the vocabulary and patterns, or they could wait until the population of those people became large in their country. England was fluent in many languages because of these reasons. Living forever gave him time to master them. She did not know English and he did not know her tongue. However, many Spaniards had came to the New World before. He was almost sure that she had to pick up a few words.
"I know not your tongue. And you do not know mine." England said in Spanish. He watched as her eyes moved for the slightest second. She understood, confirming his suspicions that she was the New World representation. "But I know another and it appears you do as well. Now, tell me your name."
Her eyes did not meet his again. England watched the woman shift her knife in her hands. To him, it looked as if she was debating to kill him or not. She would find it was harder than one would think.
"I will not reveal the name I was given, for the people of your tongue will never use it," her voice was strong. Not meek or frightened, nor did it appear she see him in a godly manner. It was if he was talking to France or even the Netherlands. "First it was the men with furs on ships. They come to my land and scare my people. Next it was the Spaniards, who force the people to the south to convert to their religion and be used as slaves. Now you appear. Hair like corn and eyes like grass. Why are you here?"
England took a single step back. He wasn't planning on running. As the woman spoke she got angrier. He would be able to block better in this stance if she came at him with the bone knife. "To colonize." He replied in a straightforward voice. "Though I have a personal reason."
She glared, her brown eyes focusing on his own. It seemed as if the native woman was ready to charge. "To colonize. To take my land away from my people and replace it as your own. And what of this personal reason? Do your gods compel you to do so?"
"No particularly. I am looking for someone. Perhaps you know her. A little girl. She has pale skin like me. Blonde hair and blue eyes was in the rumors. You wouldn't happen to know if this is true or not?"
The glare vanished for a second. Instead a look of shock was replaced on her face. England guessed he was correct. There was such a nation on this New World after all. One modeled after the European nations. God would see it fit that someone would take over this savage land after all.
Her expressed soon turned into anger once more. She pointed her knife at the man and took steps forward. "You will forget the rumor. May your gods erase it from your mind before I must." She knew that denying it would leave him to be more suspicious. Her face did not mask what she had feared most. Best to threaten his life in hope that he would run away and never returned to this place. "Leave my land! Your people will not survive an onslaught with mine. My numbers are greater. My people's strength is larger. So flee."
England only smiled at her. He knew the truth. While she had more men, he had weapons. Latest technology that would easily kill her people if it ever came to combat. "My people wish no such fighting with yours. I merely wanted to know if the rumors were true. It appears that they are. Please. Allow my captain to see your uh, leader. We will work out a negotiation and..." He watched the woman run off from him, taking flight in the woods. The trees covered her path well. In seconds he could no longer see her. "Well, that worked..."
The brown haired woman ran to the tribe as quickly as she possibly could. Fear coursing through her body as she ran closer to the child. Finally they were here for her. She knew the moment she found the child in the woods that something would happen. Those who had came so long enough could not have just left the blonde hair baby girl. She told the tribe that she was brought by the gods. Hair as golden as the sun as eyes that matched the clear sky.
The girl was closer to the woods than she should have been. Painted Turtle, she had been called. After all these years she looked to be around four or five. Able to walk on her own and speak. Her words every now and then mixed together with their native tongue and another unknown.
"My child." The woman embraced her, pulling her close to her breast. "You must follow me now. We must go swiftly towards the river."
The child looked up to her, blinking in confusion. "Mother..." Go to the river? "I walked through the trees. To the beach while you went for food. There were big things with people! There were people white as snow!" She looked to her own arms. They looked like her. "Who are they, Mother?"
She shook her head, taking her arm and tugging him towards the river. She would not allow the child to be damned in this fate. They would rip apart the child. Take everything pure about her and force it out of her. "You will not know them. You cannot know them."
The little one frowned. She was confused on why Mother was acting like this. They were friendly people. At least they seemed friendly enough. On top of the fact that they looked like her. She had never met a person before that looked like her. Blonde hair just like hers! "Mother, please."
"No." Her voice suddenly became sharp. She knelt to the child and took hold of her shoulders. "These are not good people. They will bring destruction to our great nation. Swear on your hair, my little one. Do not go near these people." She had so much to tell her. Though she was young she would have to learn.
Or else their little world would be forever changed.
Once they finally made it to the river, the older woman squeezed the little girl close to her. "Please. My child you are so small. Your little mind does not understand everything that must happen. But there are people who are like you that wish to harm our tribes. They wish to bring destruction. They wish to take you from my arms and take you back to their strange world. In my heart I will not let it happen." She cupped her cheeks, a small smile appearing on her mouth. "Painted Turtle, I must go back to the tribe. You will run. Remember the way the river runs and you will have fresh water. You have been alive with me for so long you know the berries that bring smiles and the berries that bring death. You know how to escape the angry bears. Follow the water. And follow your heart. One day, we shall be together again."
Most of what she was saying was going over the little girl's head. What she understood was that Mother wanted her to leave. The people at the ships with skin like hers were bad. "Mother..." She felt warm lips be pressed against her forehead.
"You are scared. But you have bravery in your heart. Now go. Flee quickly before the pale ones catch you, my dear." She saw the fear in the little one's eyes. No child should have to run away due to fear of capture. They should be fed berries and told stories on why the butterfly flies, not hold a knife and ready to kill if needed be.
She watched the blonde hair girl go down the river. In her mind she would grow. This would not stop the armies of the pale one from coming, but it should make it to where they would not be able to find her. This nation would slowly grow and the little one would as well. One day when they really came for her, she would be older and stronger.
It had almost been a month since they had docked on the land. England looked over the new settling colony, a small smile appearing on his face. They were doing well so far. The most important things were attempting to gather enough food to last them the winter and build their shelters. Firewood would not be a hard thing to come around, seeing how there was a copious amount of trees surrounding the camp. All was going well for the people of the new colony. The only one who was having a difficult time was England himself.
In the month he had been on this New World, he had not managed to find the little girl with the blonde hair. Every day, and against the captains orders, he went out into the woods in search for her. Every flash of gold in the corner of his vision was her. England would be damned if he had to return home without the girl at his side.
He ventured in once more. The captain was busy speaking to another, so it was easy to slip into the green. England had to find her. Not only had they settled but he would be able to show off that the colony was really his. The stupid Spaniard had his precious Romano. So he would have his own New World.
For the most part, England always took the same path. It was easy for him not to get lost this way and it was around where he had met the native representative. By the way she acted the blonde was there somewhere. If he kept looking he would find her. Pull her away from the savage life style and show her what she should be. Not to mention today he felt beyond lucky. His little fairies followed him today instead of exploring themselves. He would find the girl today.
"This way! This way!" The fairies tugged at is jacket, trying to lead him off the path he always took. "This way!"
England looked to the creatures. "Did you find her and not tell me?" He asked with a little smile. "You sly little ones. Keeping such a large secret from me." They kept chanting 'this way, this way' over and over again. Fairies always had a one track mind when it came to things. Hard to pry their little attention spans from anything if it did not interest them. Getting them to spy on France was difficult when all they wanted to do was to sleep on pretty flowers. "Not telling me-" He cut himself off, his eyes looking at the clearing. Grass went to his knees and the sun shined so brightly on the few flowers that were there.
And in the middle was her.
She looked just as the rumors told of her. Golden blonde hair that was braided, bright blue eyes that could be seen even from where he had been hiding away. She was small. Appeared to be only a 4 or 5 year old girl. But in a New World full of brown skinned natives, she was truly the one he was looking for. Pride swelled in his chest as relief washed over England. He had found her. After a month on this land he had finally found her.
"Hello there," England said. She looked up with a scared expression, her eyes trailing his skin mostly. He knew it must be a shock to finally find someone of their own kind. "My name is England. Do you understand what I am saying to you?"
The little girl reached down and grabbed the stick she used for a weapon. It didn't do much to kill anything, but it startled the bushes and chipmunks. She understood very little of what he was trying to say to her. Only his name seemed to stick in her head. "Skinned white bad." She tried to remember how the men of her former tribe held the spears in their hands. In her mind, her little stick could kill him.
England took a step forward. He had a friendly smile on his face. Everything he was doing was trying to show that he was peaceful in nature. "But you have white skin as well. Does that mean you are bad." England saw her frown. Perhaps he was getting to her. "Where are your people? Did they leave you? You are only a little girl. They shouldn't leave little girls on their own," he paused. He wanted her to come willingly. "I wouldn't leave you."
As he stepped closer, the little girl held up her stick more. England was no more than a few feet from her at this point. 'white skinned bad." She repeated. "Go!"
"White skin people are not bad. They left you. I won't ever leave you. Please?" He held out a hand for her as if she was a scared little deer. "There are other people who are not as kind. They speak a different language than me. They will take you away and never allow you to leave. But I'll be here. Like...like a big brother. Brother." Something felt uncomfortable about the word to him, but if it caused the little girl to trust him more, what was the hurt?
"Come on. Follow me. I'll be your big brother and protect you forever."
/Authors Note: Thank you all for reading this far. I'm trying really hard to get everything done so I could post this one chapter. Please review on how you think. More reviews kind of get me encourage to write even more. Thank you all again and have a wonderful day :)