Hetalia Original Stories: The Story of Louisiana

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN HETALIA OR IT'S CHARACTERS. God help us if I did.

Rating: T

Warnings: A Romano-mouth...Pretty much it.

Chapter 1: The Start of My Life

Light was visible along the horizon of the land soon to be France's. One of his people has said to have found a river that leads to America's land and thought it would be a good way to send him goods and stuff. France, naturally, went to check it out.

So there he was, getting ready to step off of the ship, dressed in a light blue pirate's attire, and there I was, scared out of my mind. I was a young region, as small as a toddler, with a dirty face and dirty clothes. My short, chopper red hair had so much mud in it that it looked brown.

I hid in the bushes as he walked onto the sand by the river, my river. He examined everything: the trees, the grass, the water. I took a step forward hoping to get a better look, and, without looking, I stepped on a raccoon's tail. It yelped, startling me and causing me to lose my balance. I fell backward onto my backside, cursing silently.

'Damn, what a way to blow your cover…' I thought. I heard the rustling of the bushes I was looking through, and I knew that he had found me…

…But, apparently, I was wrong. I saw no one looking through the bushes, unless you count the furry face of a 'coon. I crawled back to the bushes in time to see France plant a flag into the sand.

'...Aw HELL no!'

I burst through the bushes, yelling curses and running full speed toward him.

"Hey! This is my land, you bastard! What gives you the right to-"

WHAM!

I ran straight into the freakin' flagpole. I opened my eyes to see surprised blue ones staring back. My head pounded with fury and pain. "Well, lookie here..." the Frenchman said, with an obviously heavy accent.

'He tries to steal my land, then he mocks me? I don't think so!'

I jumped up, ran to him, and started punching and kicking him in the leg while yelling at him.

"Who..." punch, "...do you..." punch, "...think..." kick, "...you are?" I yelled. I guess it seemed to have no effect on him, for he just stood there and smirked. "Wipe that smirk off your face!" I growled through my teeth. Boy, I was pissed!

He chuckled, adding fuel to my fiery rage. "Why should I not smile? I am happy that I found a child to care for," he said. Where was he going with this?

"If you choose to let me, I'll take you to my home, feed you, clean you up, and care for you. You won't have to live on your own anymore," he continued. Wow, that was cheesy. But, what was that he said about food?

As if on cue, a man in white clothing and a matching white hat-thing appeared in front of me with a heaping plate full of delicious-looking food.

"Try my Fricassee de Poulet," the man said. I could feel my mouth start to water as I stared at the plate of food. I turned my head toward France, silently asking, "Really?" through eye contact. He nodded his head, giving permission. I didn't hesitate.

Yanking the overflowing plate from his hands, I started shoveling down the food, piece by piece. I could vaguely taste something disgusting, but good at the same time. It tasted like grapes mixed with a type of vinegar, and made me feel a bit dizzy.

France stared in shock. "Wow, such an appetite for such a small boy," he murmured to himself. I paused for half of a second at that, then just continued eating.

'I want to keep that charade,' I thought.

When I had finished eating, which only took about a minute and a half because I was STARVED, I let out a content sigh. I've never tasted such delicious food! That grape-and-vinegar tasting stuff had done something to my head, though. It felt a bit light, and my vision went a bit blurry. Oh well, I brushed it off. France looked pleased as he handed me a cloth to wipe my mouth with.

"So, do you agree to let me take you in?" he asked. I guess this means final answer. I debated the question for a little bit. Should I go with him? He has delicious food... But he could be a molester! Wait, no, he looks too much like an idiot to be that. I couldn't choose, and my head was starting to feel fuzzier.

France waited patiently while I tried to come up with an answer. Finally, I just blurted it out.

"Fine, I agree," I muttered. I kind of regretted my answer for a mere second as he scooped me up into his arms and cradled my tiny body against his chest. I protested a bit, but the cradle felt... comfortable. I lost the battle with comfort and rested against his chest, laying my dirty head on his light blue coat. I could slightly feel the stubble on his chin against the top of my head. Weirdo, I thought.

He started to rock back and forth, probably trying to make me sleepy. "Now," he started, "rentrons à la maison, oui?" What the hell? Why is he speaking Babble-ish? I don't speak Babble-ish!

"Dude, English please!" I muttered, slightly annoyed. He chuckled at this. "Ah, sorry. I meant 'let's go home.'" he stated. "Looks like I have to teach you French. Don't worry though. You will absolutely love the universal language of amour." he finished, all sparkly-eyed. "Okaay..." I responded. As I said before, weirdo.

"Do you have a name?" he asked. I muttered a "no" in response as I felt myself drifting towards the dreamland filled with the food I ate and the grapey, vinegary stuff. The last thing I heard from him was a silent, "I guess I'm lucky to name you, Louisiane." before I fell fast asleep.

I know it's a bit short...DON'T KILL ME! *dodges knives*

So, yeah! Reviews would be nice, just to let me know on what I need to improve.