AN: just an idea I had come to me late one night. What if the Darien Scheme hadn't failed? What if, instead it allowed Scotland to remain a sovereign nation and one of the more powerful ones at that? This is basically a series of fics about this universe, concentrating mostly on Scotland and New Caledonia. Just an extra note; Scots would be Scottish Gaelic rather than the language/dialect {much how Irish Gaelic is known as just Irish}.
...
A Day in the Life
Scotland sighed as the room devolved into chaos once more. It was just the usual petty arguments between nations, and as usual America had been the one to set them off with one of his ludicrous ideas. The red-haired nation glanced over to Germany, who looked liked he had just about had enough,
"Will everyone shut up!" he finally snapped, "We are all here to resolve the world's problems, not create new ones!" The room immediately quietened down, the nations who had been bickering and/or outright fighting stopped and looked guiltily at the floor. England snorted as he glared at France as he took his seat,
"Damned frog." He muttered, nursing a bruised arm while France muttered something not quite so polite in French, doing much the same thing as England. Scotland chuckled,
"Same old same old eh?" he said, "Nae wonder half the world think the twa o' ye are married." This earned the Scot an acidic glare from his brother and an annoyed pout from his official Ally, neither of them got a chance to speak , however, as Germany started talking about making an official rota for the meetings,
"Each nation will get 10 minutes exactly, no deviating from the subject and most certainly no interruptions allowed. Any questions must be held until the end of the speech." He told the room, "Any questions about those rules?" he asked. A hand was raised at the other end of the table,
"I hae a suggestion." A heavily accented voice spoke, "How aboot making shair America goes last fer his speeches next time?" The others room looked towards the nation that had spoken up and started to murmur their agreement,
"Suggestion duly noted New Caledonia." He stated before looking around the rest of the room, "Any other queries or suggestions?" he asked. Seeing no one else raise their hands he nodded in satisfaction,
"Gut, then the next person to speak will be Russia." He said, motioning for the northern nation to begin. Russia smiled pleasantly as he stood,
"Thank you comrade Germany, but I do believe it was not my turn yet." He said lightly, "Comrade Matvey was supposed to speak before me, da?" Germany gave the other man a confused look,
"Who was supposed to go before you?" he asked, clearly having no idea who the Russian was talking about. Scotland, France and New Caledonia sighed before replying all at once,
"Canada, America's brother." They intoned in exasperation. Germany continued to look confused before seeming to remember who they were talking about,
"Oh yes, Canada." He cleared his throat in embarrassment, "Canada, if you could please begin." He said. The half invisible nation got to his feet and shuffled his papers nervously,
"Thank you Germany." He said quietly, before clearing his throat and starting to speak.
...
When lunch finally rolled around, all the nations heaved a sigh of relief. Two glorious hours before they had to face another round of speeches and question and answer sessions. Scotland caught up to New Caledonia, who was happily speaking to Panama, Mexico and Brazil in Spanish,
"Hullo wee ane!" Scotland called, causing his ex-colony to spin around and grin at him,
"Da, dinnae dae that. Ye almost gied me a heart attack." He exclaimed in protest. Panama giggled as Sotland threw an arm around his 'son',
"Och, ye poor wee babby." He cooed, earning him a half hearted slap on the arm. The older nation chuckled as he let the Central American nation go, "I take it frae that reaction that ye dinnae want yer auld man cramping up yer style." He quipped. New Caledonia snorted,
"Maybe." He grunted, causing Scotland to grin,
"Well tough, I've no' seen ye fer ages and it's aboot time we had some faither- son bonding time." The teenaged nation squeaked in protest as Scotland grabbed his arm and started dragging him off,
"Amigos, me ayudan!" he cried to Mexico and Brazil, who both grinned and strode up beside Scotland,
"How about we all join you for lunch Escocia?" Mexico asked, "We haven't seen Nueva Caledonia for ages either. We've all been so busy lately what with the oil spills and all." Scotland gave the two boys a critical look before relenting with a sigh,
"A' right, A' right, I suppose a' three o' ye can come along as well." He said, looking to Panama, who had held back from approaching Scotland. Truth be told, she was still slightly scared by him, but she nodded and caught up to the motley group anyway,
"Gracias Escocia." She mumbled shyly, walking slightly behind Scotland and New Caledonia as the two of them chattered to one another in Scots. She wondered briefly what they were talking about. She had been taking lessons in the language from New Caledonia, but the language was so foreign in its basic structure she hadn't made much headway yet. Mexico slowed up so that he was walking beside his sister,
"Está usted bien?" he asked her quietly, "Usted está siendo muy reservado." He noted, looking worried. Panama nodded,
"Sí, estoy muy bien, no me preocupo de mí al hermano." She replied, giving him a smile. Mexico hummed a little, not entirely convinced, but deciding to leave it alone for now. Instead the two nations looked up as Scotland turned to them,
"We're headin' to a pub near here that does some really guid food. Nane o' that greasy American fare. That a'right wi' you two?" he asked. Panama nodded while Mexico cheered,
"Finally, someone who has good taste!" he exclaimed. Scotland laughed,
"France'll no' quite agree wi' that. But at least it's better than England's." He replied. New Caledonia smirked,
"Aye, but only because ye live wi' France and he does a' the cookin'." Scotland swatted at his son playfully,
"Ma cookin's no' that bad." He complained, "Ye didnae seem tae mind eatin' a' ma shortbreid the last time ye were o'er." He pointed out. Panama giggled as New Caledonia sighed dramatically,
"Aye, but it's the only thing ye can cook decently well. Papa still has tae make dinner." Scotland pretended to look outright offended,
"Right, if ye're gonna pan ma cookin' like that, I'll no' bother makin' ye ony haggis fer Burn's night." He retorted. New Caledonia's face fell,
"Aww, come oan da, dinnae dae that." He whined, "I like yer haggis." Scotland quirked an overly large eyebrow at that,
"Ye jus' said the only thing I could decently cook wis shortbreid." he deadpanned, "Forgive me, but that kindae gied me the impression that ye didnae like ma haggis." New Caledonia pouted,
"A'right, I tak' back ever'thing tae dae wi' yer cookin'. It's no' totally terrible and is edible, unlike England's last attempt." He finally sighed. Scotland grinned and ruffled the teenager's hair,
"I ken son, I wis just guisin'." He said, "Now who's hungry, 'cause I ken I am." He announced. The four younger nations cheered enthusiastically as they all continued towards the pub, "Pubward we go then lads and lassie." He called cheerfully as he practically skipped ahead of the group.
...
When Germany finally let everyone go at the end of the day, most nations headed directly to the nearest place that sold drink, preferably alcoholic. Despite Germany's best attempts at keeping things on track in the afternoon, things ended up getting out of hand once again and the blonde, European nation finally had to stop the meeting when less than half the nations present had given their speeches. Scotland sighed as he sank into the chair,
"I dinnae ken why we even bother Francis," he sighed, playing with his lighter, "Everyone kens the place fa's into chaos the minute we a' get thegither." France dully nodded his agreement,
"I completely agree with you mon amour, but these meetings are important, non?" Scotland frowned as he lit the lighter absentmindedly,
"Aye I ken," he sighed, "still, when I next host a world conference nane o' the countries that hate each other are gonnae sit next tae each other. The maist difficult anes'll be thrown oot if they cause ony trouble." He snorted. France smiled a little at that,
"Whatever you say L'Ecosse." He replied, knowing better than to argue with the other man. Prussia arrived at the table with the drinks for the evening,
"Here we go!" he exclaimed, "Whisky, neat for Schottland, the house red wine for Frankreich, und bier for awesome me." Scotland gladly took his whisky and sipped it, knowing better than to down the first one of the night,
"Ta Prussia, this does me just nice." He sighed as he sank back into his chair. Prussia grinned,
"Well, we all need a pick me up after today." He said, taking a gulp of his beer, "Und alcohol is the best medicine there is." Scotland half heartedly raised his glass to that,
"Cheers tae that." He said. He looked around as he lowered his glass, "No' many in the night." He noted. France looked around as well and sighed,
"Everyone else is probably at the bar in the 'otel." He said wearily, "Which is good for us, oui? It means things are less rowdy." Scotland snorted,
"Unfortunately mair quiet means England's mair likely tae show up to droon oot his sorrows." He said. Prussia shook his head,
"England is still not over that?" he asked incredulously. Scotland shot the albino nation a look,
"Nope, it makes livin' next tae him a bloody nightmare an' a'." He groused. France sent his friend an apologetic smile,
"L'Angleterre will often try to drink away the memories when confronted with L'Amerique." He explained, "It does not make for an easy neighbourhood with him." Prussia nodded,
"Well, if he turns up we can kick him straight back out ja? I'm sure our landlord would appreciate not having a drunken nation lying on the bar." Scotland sighed,
"I would, if it meant no' haein' tae put up wi' him on the way back tae the hotel." He muttered, "If he does turn up here the night, I'm probably gonnae hae tae tak' him right tae his room tae make sure he cannae go onywhaur else." Prussia chuckled,
"A protective bruder aren't you?" Scotland scowled at him,
"Naw, just ane that kens no' tae inflict the Great Captain Kirkland oan the world once mair." He thought for a moment, "Though it would be pretty funny tae see Spain's reaction tae it." France frowned at Scotland for a moment,
"Angus, please tell me you are not planning what I think you are." He sighed, "L'Espagne 'as quite enough on 'is plate with these oil spills all along 'is colonies coasts." Scotland raised an eyebrow,
"An' I dinnae?" he asked, "I ken the laddie's no' a colony or dominion ony mair Francis, but I still get a fair chunk o' money off that canal." Prussia hummed,
"I agree with Francis here, Schottland, Spanien is not in the best of moods at the moment." He noted, "Although it would be funny to see at any other time..." he trailed off, imagining the scenario. France merely snorted and took another sip of his wine. Clearly his lover and best friend were doing their best to be difficult tonight.
...
"So, Hamish, how are things going with that oil spill?" England asked his nephew as he took a sip of his tea. New Caledonia shrugged as he nibbled politely on one of England's scones,
"No' too bad, the cleanup is takin' forever, but that's tae be expected." He replied. As much as the younger country claimed to hate England as much as his father, the young nation did have a soft spot for his uncle, especially when he wasn't making threats against Scotland or drunk. England nodded,
"Well, I'm sure things will be back to normal before you know it my boy. " he said, a smile on his face, "I heard the others weren't doing so well though..." he trailed off as New Caledonia sighed,
"Panama's no copin' so well at the moment. Spain's apparently been gettin' quite worried aboot her." He looked up at his uncle with a small smile, "I'm sure she'll be a'right though, Panama's pretty damned stubborn when she tak's intae her mind." England nodded sympathetically,
"Well send her and Spain my regards." He told his nephew before looking at the clock, "If you don't mind Hamish, lad, I think it would be best if we turned in for the night." New Caledonia followed his gaze,
"Aye, I wis aboot tae suggest the same thing." He got up out of the chair, and placed his mug next to the kettle, "I'll see ye tomorrow Uncle England." He called as he opened the door. England nodded and waved,
"Take care and tell that father of yours not to come to the meeting hungover." New Caledonia chuckled,
"Nae worries England, he wis wi' Papa France so the only thing ye should be expectin' is fer him tae fa' asleep fer other reasons." England turned a little green at the implication,
"Yes well... try to make sure he doesn't." He replied hurriedly, sighing in relief as New Caledonia closed the door behind him, cackling all the way back to his room. England turned to his fairy friend, "One of those boys are going to be the death of me one of these days." He muttered as the little creature handed him another mug of tea.
...
Germany wasn't best pleased to be met with several dozen hungover nations the next morning, his brother included. England tutted in exasperation as he poked at France, trying to wake said nation up, without getting jumped on for the pleasure. New Caledonia was not helping matters by giving England suggestive looks from the other side of the conference room. Ireland, meanwhile, was trying to wake his older brother up, poking at him experimentally to see how far gone he really was before trying anything else that may lead to getting beaten to a pulp. When America bounded in announcing that he had another 'fantastically brilliant plan to clean up the oil spills' at the top of his voice, Germany decided that maybe this wasn't such a bad start to the day after all. Especially when mutual enemies simply looked at each other and silently agreed that the idiot needed shutting up. Germany sighed as he took his seat and took out his paperwork, it looked like the morning would be starting a couple of hours later than planned so he might as well get some sort of work done while everyone else was distracted. He promptly ignored America's cries for help from someone called 'Mattie', whoever that was, and simply stuck the earplugs he carried with him at all times into his ears, sighing contentedly as he read over the first piece of paper.