Virginia, 1670
The Land was scared.
The Land was strong – incredibly strong, it was a requirement for survival in the harsh winters and unyielding land upon which the settlers lived and always had been and always would continue to be. The Land embodied the settlers, proud and strong with a will and spirit that simply refused to bend to any power.
But it was night, and there was a storm closing in with blowing wind and the promise of heavy rain. The Land was cold and alone, and the people cried "Witch!" whenever the Land passed within earshot. Access to shelter in any of the nearby towns was not an option. There was no house to turn to, no warm bed, no fire, no food.
"Hello, there."
The Land spun around, bare feet scuffing against the dirt, almost toppling over with the rapid movement. The boy was young, twelve or so, wearing nice clothes. His eyes were blue, hair blond and pulled back with a dark ribbon, and he was holding a horse by the reins. One of his hands was stretched out slightly, and the Land recoiled before he could draw near.
"Do not be afraid!" he said quickly. "There's no reason to be afraid. I'm like you. It's okay. I want to help you." The Land hesitated. The boy did not step back, but he lowered his hand. "What's your name?"
The Land stuck her chin out defiantly, drawing herself up as best she could, and there was that same pride and spirit of her people shining through her tiny form, the rags draped over her thin figure like the robes of a queen. "Virginia."
The boy smiled. Slowly, he held out his hand again, and the Land did not flinch away this time. She studied it for a moment, the tanned skin and the callouses on his fingers, how much larger it was then her own small hands. His hands were clean. "My name is America. I have food back at my house. Would you like some? I have a place for you to sleep, too."
He sounded kind. He was smiling at her. The Land reached out and took America's hand, and it was warm. He helped her up into the saddle of the horse, then climbed up behind her. They rode quickly to escape the storm, and neither of them spoke until they were inside the stables. The Land toed at some straw on the floor while America removed the tack.
"Are there others like us?" she asked, thinking of what her people had said, colonies to the north and a few to the south.
America paused. "Yes," he finally said. "There are. There are nations, and then there are colonies, like you and me."
"Will I meet any of them?"
Her people had scorned her. Witch-child, beggar, thief. But if she met a nation, it would be an audience none of them could ever dream to have...!
"We'll see." America motioned for a servant to come and finish with the horse, then picked her up and carried her out of the stable and down the path toward the house. "Come, now, let's see what we can do about food."
I like history, and I like Hetalia, so let's have some American history Hetalia-style. This will be a series of inter-connected regarding U.S. history, America, and the states. It's probably going to wind up in chronological order for simplicity's sake. Due to school, exams, and a pending job over in the real world, updates will be sporadic.
Hope you enjoyed!