The French-Canadian Way (Hetalia)
Author: Ashynarr
Summary: In canon, Matthew was raised by Francis and Arthur, but didn't turn out too much like either on the surface. What if he'd taken after his founding Nations just a bit more?
Disclaimer: Hetalia's not mine.
Warning: CanAme, French!Mattie
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The carriage shook briefly as it rolled over and off a rock in its path, the weight of the wheel causing the rock to shoot off to the side a short distance. The horses pulling it were unperturbed, continuing their easy plod down the empty road with minimal correction from the driver sitting behind them.
The two inside the carriage barely noted the incident any more than the man outside, having experienced many similar bumps during their journey and well aware of many more to come. The elder man, known to some as Arthur Kirkland and a handful as England, looked over the documents in his hands, seemingly ignoring the person sitting across from him.
Likewise, the younger man - barely out of boyhood, all things told - glared sullenly out the window at the slowly passing fields, just as content to ignore his companion, even at the price of a tense silence. His name was Mathieu Kirkland (nee Bonnefoy) - otherwise known as New France or Canada - and he was not pleased with his current situation.
'Traded over to the enemy just to end a stupid war in Europe,' His mind muttered, causing his lips to press together. 'I should have guessed Francis would do anything to get himself those islands he always went on about. Favorite colony, my ass.'
Though the nation of France had looked fairly apologetic when the deal had been finalized, Mathieu knew his pap- his former caretaker far too well to not also catch the brief glimpse of relief in his eyes - probably at no longer having to deal with a moody, icy wasteland of a colony.
(In the depths of his heart, he conceded he was being unfair, but the wound of betrayal and shock was still too fresh and festering to allow himself to acknowledge the thought.)
"You know," Arthur spoke up, still focused on his documents. "You could at least pretend to be grateful for what I've done for you so far."
Mathieu ground his teeth together, but refused to rise to the bait.
The older Nation continued, "I could have done much worse than just bring you under my control; I recall you've been raised Catholic?"
"Mm." He knew Arthur could easily order his land's official faith to be changed, should he want to. The fact that he hadn't only left Mathieu wondering when he'd get around to it.
"In addition, this will finally end the border skirmishes between you and Alfred, which is something I'm sure both of you are looking forward to."
Alfred. What an utterly inelegant and ugly name. He supposed it suited a stuffy, drab British colony, though he couldn't really reconcile the idea with his dim memories of the wide-eyed crybaby who'd follow him around while carrying his rabbit friend.
"Kanata!" His lighter eyed mirror image giggled, running up to his spot by the riverbank. "Kanata, let's play!"
Mathieu shook his head. Those days were long gone, the children they'd both been with it, and it was stupid to miss something that was never coming back. The most he could hope for was a lukewarm animosity after their recent battle, no matter how much Arthur waved away the events as a spat. Maybe in a few years they'd get along better, but for the older Nation to expect anything else was as stupid as he'd expect of the British.
'You're British now, though', his mind reminded him.
'Not yet', he shot back with a grimase, unable to deny the inevitability of the situation but refusing to accept it.
"I see you can't even be bothered to pay attention when your superiors are speaking to you," Arthur cut in sharply, dragging Mathieu from his thoughts. Indigo met green, a mutual disapproval reached in seconds. "Hopefully you'll pick up some manners while staying with your new brother, or at least better English skills."
New brother? Mathieu snorted, still marvelling at how neither of the older Nations seemed to realize that the two colonies found suspiciously near each other with suspiciously similar looks had already been in contact before they'd been separated by the hundreds of miles between their new domains.
Arthur, of course, misinterpreted, scowling even more fiercely. "Don't think for a second I won't hesitate to revoke my previous mercies if you fail to come through on your end of the deal. You might have gotten away with such disrespect while under that frog's care, but I will not accept it directed towards me. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir." Mathieu replied quietly, managing to keep most of the annoyance out of his voice. Seriously, you'd think Mathieu was considering rebellion or something with how uptight the Brit was being.
He was a colony, and even if he hated it, he knew his place in the world.
Arthur seemed to accept the reply, letting his disapproving gaze bore into the Canadian a bit longer before returning to his documents, the carriage returning to sullen silence as it shook and rattled onwards.
~0~0~
Mathieu had believed, rather understandably, that Alfred's house wouldn't be much larger than his own. Maybe a few extra rooms, sure, since the weather was warmer and the land more settled, but this-
"Matthew, hurry up!" Arthur called from the front door of the two story mansion, slightly to the side to allow the humans he'd hired temporarily to carry the baggage from the carriage inside.
Swallowing and looking over the huge place again, he slowly made his way over to Arthur's side, allowing himself to be shooed inside and out of the way of the workers. The main hall seemed to stretch on forever, and with a twist he forced himself to look at the waiting room he was standing in front of instead.
Tabernac, how spoiled was his brother?
As if summoned by his thoughts, Mathieu just caught the sound of feet stamping against the floor before a blue and blond blur skidded around the corner and all but slammed into Arthur. Mathieu took the opportunity presented to look over his brother, noting the smudged work attire and mussy hair he was sporting. Nose wrinkling slightly, he realized Alfred also smelt like horse. Just what had he been doing?
Whatever conversation the two had been having stopped, Arthur gesturing to him with something that was probably 'And this is Matthew, your new brother', even with his weak grasp of English. Alfred turned away from the older Nation to look him over, their eyes meeting just before the northern colony was blinded with a smile the force of the sun.
Wait, when had he ended up on the floor? And why were his ears ringing?
"Kanada! Mattie!" Ah, apparently his brother had only gotten stronger over the last century. Not to mention louder. And even more chattery. Not entirely unexpected but definitely… somewhat better that he'd been expecting.
A sudden image of the boy above him with Arthur's eyebrows and scowl almost had him laughing, though he bit it back at the last second. The elder Nation, meanwhile, had seemed to catch up to the situation enough to haul the southern colony off of him. Mathieu picked himself off the floor and wiped off some of the dust from his shirt while Alfred was chastised, his brother sulking all the while.
Eventually Alfred turned back to him, ducking his head slightly as he apologized (or so Mathieu guessed), bouncing straight back into a bouncy grin the second Arthur ruffled his hair and made a shooing motion at the two of them. Wait, was that a smile the Brit was wearing? Would wonders never cease?
Alfred took the opportunity provided by his temporary distraction to grab him, all but dragging him down the hall and up the stairs before Mathieu thought to start jogging along to keep his arm in its socket. After several turns that he thought he might be able to figure out later on, the southern colony dragged him into what was likely his bedroom before letting go, turning back to him with a slightly less blinding smile.
"Mattie…" He started, biting down on his lip and rocking on his heels as he kept eye contact.
"Mathieu." The northern colony corrected, the first time he'd gotten a word in edgewise since he'd gotten here. He tried desperately to call on the frustration he'd been maintaining on and off for years, but it seemed to have all vanished somewhere along the way. Feeling rather unsure of what to do next, he sighed and smiled softly. "Hey, Alfred."
Alfred paused in his rocking, grin widening as he surged forward to pull his brother into another hug. Mathieu returned it after a bit, shutting his eyes as he heard his brother mumble something into his shoulder. "I missed you too."
Pulling back, he had to hide a grin at how teary Alfred had already gotten. It seemed some things never changed, Mathieu mused as he helped Alfred wiped some of them away. "I see you're still a crybaby after all these years."
The reply was instantaneous, and Mathieu didn't need to know a lick of English to know it was a firm denial of the statement Alfred hadn't understood at all. He laughed, shoving at Alfred before remembering the other still smelled like horse and seriously needed to change. "Christ, at least change before you try and hug me again, why don't you?"
Judging by the blank look, Alfred had no idea what he was talking about. Sighing, Mathieu pointed at him before clasping a hand over his own nose and waving the air away. In seconds the southern colony had caught on, giggling behind a hand before he stopped, eyes gleaming. Mathieu only caught on to his brother's plan seconds before the American lunged again, the two caught up in a brief race before Alfred managed to pin him down and do his best to rub as much of the smell on Mathieu as possible.
It once again took Arthur's intervention to get Alfred off, though Mathieu made a good attempt at escaping in the meantime.
(...Maybe it wouldn't be too bad here, after all.)
~0~0~
"Alfred?" Mathieu called through the corridors, frowning. He'd exhausted all his brother's usual hangouts already, and he doubted the other was in town, considering all the horses were accounted for. With nothing else to go on, he'd resorted to calling for him, hoping that his brother would at some point respond.
"Alfre-" He started again, only to stop when a chance glance into the library showed the person he'd been looking for for almost half an hour curled into one of the chairs, mumbling quietly to himself while reading.
Huh. Not his usual pastime. "Alfred?"
Alfred looked up, blinking as his mind came back from wherever it'd been residing. "Mattie?"
"You completely missed lunch," The Canadian informed him, walking over to see what'd so intrigued his brother.
"Oh, I did?" The American shook his head. "Explains why I'm so hungry, then."
"What are you looking at?" Mathieu frowned as he came around the seat, seeing the thin sheaf of papers.
"Ah, nothing," Alfred replied, scratching lightly at the bottom of his ear. "Just something I picked up in town."
Mathieu pursed his lips. "Don't tell me thats that anti-British work that's been getting popular."
"It's not anti-British!" Alfred snapped back, frowning. "It's just- asking why we can't keep looking after our own affairs if we can't even get a word in for ourselves back in England."
"We're just colonies; what do you expect, for the King to just start listening to us?"
"We're citizens just as much as the people across the ocean; why don't we have a say in things?" Alfred shook his head. "I know we're colonies, Matt, and I'm not asking for much - just one person, two at most, who can speak for us over there where we can't."
Mathieu sighed. "I'm sure Arthur will get around to it eventually; he's probably just busy dealing with Europe. Have you tried writing to him?"
"Dozens of times." Alfred sighed, slumping into his seat. "If he responds at all, it's basically saying 'I'll deal with it later'. I just-" The American paused, hand grasping as he searched for his next words. "I want him to stop treating us like we're still little kids. We've been taking care of ourselves for the most part for more than a century now; can't he see we're responsible enough to speak for our own people?"
"We're still a lot younger than the rest of Europe," Mathieu pointed out. "To them, we are still just kids. Besides, what can we do to convince them to listen to us?"
"...I don't know, Matt… I don't think there's anything we can do short of forcing them to listen."
Mathieu reeled back. "Alfred, you aren't seriously considering fighting-"
Alfred blinked, then waved his hands to negate the idea. "No way, I still wanna talk to Arthur first. I know if we can just sit down together I can get him to come around to my side of things, and then everyone'll be happy again." The American looked to his brother, hopeful. "Maybe if we both ask he'll be even more willing?"
"I don't know, Alfred…" Mathieu frowned. "I'll think about it."
"That's all I'm asking for, Mattie." Alfred promised, looking far more relaxed now. "We'll avoid any sort of fighting and be all diplomatic; That should prove we're responsible enough."
Mathieu nodded in reply, biting the inside of his cheek to avoid mentioning that he thought Alfred was getting his hopes too high. He didn't know Arthur nearly as well as Alfred did, so who knew, Alfred might be right after all.
~0~0~
How had everything ended up like this?
"Your actions have proven you a traitor to the crown."
"But I didn't do anything!"
"You questioned your rightful king!"
"And you killed my people for no reason!"
Mathieu stared blankly out the carriage window, mind playing the events of the last few weeks over and over.
"Why won't you just listen for once?"
"You're just an impertinent child; what could you have to say that's so important?"
Alfred's face twisted into a rage the Canadian had never seen before, his inch over Arthur somehow swelling. "That you're just an old blowhard who can't even see the people he's stepping on while pleasuring his lordship."
The slap echoed in the sudden silence of the hall, Mathieu closing his eyes and wincing.
Alfred was gone, fighting a futile war against the British Empire, while he was being sent back to his small cabin 'for his own safety'.
"Mathieu," Alfred spoke quietly, with an authority the Canadian hadn't realized his brother could manage. He'd even pronounced the name he always struggled with correctly this time. "We're going."
"You aren't going anywhere," Arthur growled, stepping forward to grab Alfred, only to stop in horror as the younger grabbed his wrist, in one easy motion snapping it before letting it drop. "You-"
"Mathieu," He turned to the Canadian, nothing of the fun-loving crybaby brother he remembered in his face or body. This wasn't Maska or Alfred.
This was America. And that knowledge made it somehow easier to clench his fists together, look the would-be Nation in the eyes, and say, "Non."
Arthur - England - could not afford Canada falling into American hands. Mathieu couldn't afford it either. He'd already been a prize of war; he wasn't eager to trade hands again so soon after that experience, especially when he knew there was no way the southern colony could win this fight.
Alfred was looking after the affairs of his people.
Mathieu had to do the same.
There was a flash of anger and betrayal behind the fire in his brother's eyes, but he did nothing but turn away, locking eyes with Arthur one last time.
"I declare my independence from you, you tyrant."
Arthur's eyes, on the other hand, were a roiling ocean, eager to drown the flames in its raging depths. "Don't expect me to be merciful when I crush your little rebellion."
"Don't underestimate me." And with that Alfred turned and left, his sudden absence leaving the house cold. Mathieu remembered lonely winters in his cabin, shivering under furs and wondering when his papa would return.
For a brief moment, he wished he'd chosen to go with his brother instead.
A single tear rolled down his cheek, eventually falling to the seat below and sinking into the fabric, as if it'd never existed. The carriage continued on, heading towards an uncertain future while the young man inside was stuck in the past.
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AN: So, here's the first big project of the year! And yes, I damn well know I still have in progress stories, but I really wanted to write this out, alright? But yeah, I'm hoping to have this be longer chapters than my other works so far, but I can't guarantee anything in the long run because, well, this is me we're talking about.
Yes, I'll get to the romance next chapter, I'm just putting in a bit more history / background stuff here. Basically what I'm getting at with this is that the two were separated as little kids and didn't meet again until after the French-Indian War. Then, of course, came the Revolution and all that other stuff and basically they never had the time to fully connect as brothers, even if they called each other that out of habit.
...pfft, who am I kidding, I ship it even when it's completely incestuous. I have absolutely no shame, but on the other hand, neither will Mattie. Ehehehe...