Ch. 1—Please Wait for Me
"Hold on, so you are America too?" Alfred said, blinking at the small four-year-old girl in front of him.
She blushed and nodded at the eight-year-old. "I suppose that I am." She clenched her fists. Does he want to fight me for the name? she wondered.
Both children sat cross-legged on the floor of the cave she had chosen for her "house" and furnished with a lamp and some bedding. It was a small cave, but since they were both small themselves, it didn't seem cramped; an adult would have argued otherwise. The girl had draped a makeshift curtain across the front of the cave with some cloth she had taken from a nearby villager's clothesline. It was warm during the day, but she needed it to block out the cold Carolinian nighttime air.
Just ten minutes previously, Alfred had happened upon her in the middle of her lunch of strawberries, which she had picked in the forest, and the pie and eggs she had stolen from a nearby farmhouse window and hen-house. When she had demanded to know why he thought it was all right to barge into her "house" uninvited, he had explained that he had noticed the curtain earlier and thought it was some child's abandoned "fort". He had sneaked away from his house and "England's boring lessons" to make it his new hideout.
For some unknown reason, she had felt obliged to share with him her meager meal after his bold declaration that he meant her no harm and that he would be on his way if she wanted him to do so. When he had introduced himself as "America", she had replied that she too was that nation, and that had started the current "discussion".
The blue-eyed, blond eight-year-old furrowed his brow and crossed his arms. "How do you know that you are America?" Alfred demanded.
She shrugged. "I do not know it really. For all I know, I might be some other colony or country," she said. "After I was born, I thought that France or Spain was my papa because I could speak both of their languages very well. However, when they did not acknowledge me, I decided to wander the land and find out where I belonged."
She pointed towards the village. "When I first saw you and England walking from the village to your house last week, I heard him call you 'America', and that name seemed right." She clasped her hands to her chest and the organ she was referring to beat harder as if it was trying to confirm what she had said. "English suddenly came naturally for me, and I just knew 'America' was my name too." She glanced at Alfred. "In addition, we look similar." She placed a hand under her golden-blond waves and fluffed some hair as if to demonstrate her point. She saw his eyes narrow as he gazed into hers.
He leaned forward in his seated position and examined her face more closely. "Your eye color is not exactly mine—they seem more of a blue-gray than my blue—but it is close enough." He glanced at her hair. "And your hair is a darker blond than mine, almost an amber color, but I agree you do look similar to me." He let out a sigh. "Well we cannot have the same name," Alfred said. "That will just get confusing."
"Wait . . . so you are accepting that I am America?" the girl asked hesitantly. "I thought you might demand that I give up the name or try to make me go away," she said, emphasizing the last two words as if to imply they meant something more than their basic definition.
Alfred gasped. "I am an English gentleman," he said. "I would never harm a lady or force her to vacate her . . ." He paused and glanced around the cave. He wrinkled his nose, giving his surroundings a disdainful look. "Premises," he finished.
The four-year-old girl sniffed and wiped her nose before it could run. "Thank you," she said, looking down at her lap.
"You are quite welcome," Alfred said. "However, I did not exactly say I accepted you were America. I do not know who exactly you are, but I know one thing for sure: you are a nation—or at least a colony of one—and not a regular human."
The girl looked up. "If you do not accept that I am America, how do you know I am a nation or a colony?"
Alfred shrugged and pointed a thumb at his stomach. "My gut tells me so." He folded his arms and nodded. "Besides, you are wearing the same type of outfit I wore when I was 'born'," Alfred continued, pointing at the white gown that grazed the tops of her knees.
Her cheeks grew hot with embarrassment at showing too much skin. She moved into a sitting position that allowed her dress to cover her legs more and tugged down on the hem. The dress had covered her whole body when she was still new to the world, but her body had quickly grown from a two-year-old to a four-year-old in what seemed like a matter of months. She was forced to steal some Pantaloon underwear from one of the local villagers. As far as she'd been able to determine, there were no girls her age nearby, so stealing a dress hadn't been an option.
The girl thought about how she had managed to survive so far and an ache filled her heart. She'd already taken so much that many residents were now tying dogs to the edges of their yards, making getting what she needed more difficult to do. Her stomach growled, and tears welled up in her eyes. The meal she had in front of her was a welcome repast; she hadn't eaten for days.
Alfred leaned forward again and held out his hands as if he wanted to comfort her but didn't touch her. "What is the matter?"
The small girl tried to laugh and wiped her eyes. "I say I am a nation like you, but I don't have a big brother like you do with England," she said, her voice cracking slightly.
Alfred got a guilty expression on his face.
"And I do not have proper clothes or food. I am hungry all the time," she continued. "When I think about it carefully now, part of me is starting to wonder if I am even a nation at all. I only clung to the identity of America because my heart told me to do so . . . Maybe I am some sort of strange creature, made solely to imitate you for a brief period and then fade away into nothingness."
Alfred placed his hands on the tops of his crossed legs, his eyes crinkled as a slight smile came to his face. He then got up on his knees, placed his hands on her shoulders, and leaned in to give her a kiss on the cheek, catching some of her tears as they trailed down her skin.
The girl blinked and stared at him; her cheeks warmed from the blush that rushed to her face. "What was that for?"
"You seemed like you needed it," he stated, smiling widely. "How about this: I shall act as your big brother until we figure out what or who you are. I will take care of you like England cares for me. How does that sound?"
The girl returned his smile. "Like the most wonderful thing I have ever heard."
Alfred's face crimsoned. He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away from her. "There is no need to express it that strongly. It is what a gentleman should offer a lady in distress." He sat back on his legs and held up his index finger. "First things first. You need a name because I am not going to call you America." He rubbed his chin and then looked at her. "Where were you born?"
"I do not clearly remember," she stated. "I think it may have been Virginia, but then part of me remembers villagers calling themselves Georgians. Before arriving here, I wandered from place to place trying to find out who I was or where I was." She shook her head and then rubbed it. "I keep falling asleep, and when I wake up the next morning, the strangest things have happened: I'm covered in leaves and dust, it seems like my body has grown or my clothes have shrunk, and I am disoriented, and it takes a while to remember where I am or who I am."
Alfred raised an eyebrow. "That is odd," he said. "My body does not do that. It takes years before I need larger clothes." He shook his head. "Well then, I was going to call you by the colony you were born in, but since we do not know which that is, how about this colony?"
"This colony?"
"Yes," he replied. "The settlers just won a war against the Yamasee tribe, and the Lords Proprietors just relinquished their charter to the Crown. They were allowed to keep their land but split it into two colonies: North and South Carolina."
"Which colony are we in?" the girl asked.
"South," the boy replied, "but I'm not going to call you that. I'll just call you 'Carolina'." He paused. "Do you like your new name?"
Carolina gave him a small smile. "I love it."
Alfred crimsoned a little and scratched his nose. "England gave me the name of Alfred Foster Jones. You can call me that or America, whichever you wish."
"May I call you 'big brother'?" she asked.
His face grew even redder. "Zounds! I can see now why England would not let me call him that. It is embarrassing for some reason. No, please just call me Alfred or America."
She nodded. "As you wish, Alfred," she replied. Even though I do not have proof, my heart still tells me that I am America too, she mused. If I call him America, then it will be like I am giving up my right to be called that name.
Alfred stood and held out his hand to her. She took it, and he helped her stand. "We need to get you some proper clothes, Carolina," he said. "After all, it is your birthday, and I need to get you a gift."
"But, Alfred, today is not my birthday," she stated.
"It is now," he replied. "Nations are allowed to select or change their birth date to whatever date is appropriate. It is usually when they are established as nations, so that makes today, August 20, 1729, your official birthday." He winked at her. "Unless you decide to change it, of course."
Grasping her hand, Alfred guided her out of the forest and to the house he and England were sharing. "Wait here while I butter up England," he instructed.
Carolina stood under the kitchen window and heard the front door slam.
"There you are! Where did you run off to this time, Alfred? I have been looking for you for the last hour or so," she heard England say as his voice carried through the kitchen window's panes.
"I was in the forest, England. I needed some fresh air," Alfred replied.
"I should punish you for skipping out on your history lessons," England said, "but I understand. I was young once too."
Alfred laughed. "Are you not still young, sir?"
England laughed in response. "Yes. I suppose I am. My body feels old sometimes."
"England, what if I told you that I brought someone home because she needed me to take care of her?" Alfred asked.
That is a terribly roundabout way of asking permission for me to stay here, Carolina thought.
"America, did you bring home another stray cat?" England asked, sounding cross. "I told you already: no pets."
"No she is not—" Alfred started to say. Carolina could only guess that England's expression was terrifying because the small boy then said, "Yes sir." ending the discussion.
"Please excuse me for a moment," Alfred continued. "I need to take care of something outside."
"Well, do not take long. We are about to have dinner," England said.
Carolina heard the door slam again, and moments later, Alfred rounded the corner of the house. He held his finger to his lips and beckoned for her to come closer. Hesitantly, she walked towards him. He grabbed her hand and led her to the front room window.
"Stay right here," he said in a hushed voice.
She suppressed the laugh that almost bubbled up and out of her. It is just us two. Why is he whispering?
Alfred reentered the house through the front door, and less than a minute later he was pushing open the front room window. "Come on, then," he quietly commanded, holding out his hands.
Carolina placed her hands in his and he pulled her up and into the front room without any noise or straining on his part. It was like she weighed no more than a blade of grass to him.
"America, have you washed for supper?" England called from the kitchen.
Alfred flinched and looked towards the other room. "Not yet, England, I will do that now," he replied.
Holding a finger to his mouth, he motioned for her to follow him. They noiselessly ascended the stairs until they reached a dead end at the end of the upstairs hallway. Alfred pushed on the wall and a secret door opened.
"I do not know why this is here, but I discovered it when I first explored this house," Alfred whispered to her. "I cannot say how long we are to visit here in South Carolina, but I will make sure you are provided for even after we are gone."
"How?" Carolina asked. "You had to sneak me in here as it is."
Then, in a gesture that surprised her, Alfred knelt on one knee and took her by the hand. He touched his lips lightly on her skin, and her face grew hot in response. "A-A-Al—" was all she could stutter out.
"Worry not, Princess Carolina," he said quietly, doing his best to sound like England. "Your knight Alfred will not fail." He looked up at her and winked. "I saw that in a book once and always wanted to try it."
Carolina pulled her hand out of his and, trying to hide her embarrassment, thrust her chin upwards. "That was highly improper," she stated.
Alfred's expression fell.
She saw his expression and her heart grew warm with affection and a desire to make him happy. I suppose it would not hurt to play along. "I only said that because I had not given you a token that you were my knight," she said as regally as she could in a soft voice. She then leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead.
Alfred's cheeks pinked up, and he smiled at her. "Thank you, milady. I shall treasure that token always," he said quietly, placing a hand over his heart and bowing his head. "I shall endeavor mightily in my first quest: to get you some clothes and some dinner."
"America! The food is getting cold," England called from downstairs.
"I will be right there," Alfred called back. He stood and gave Carolina a slight bow. "Stay here, milady, and listen for us to come up. I shall also try to get you some bedding and a candle for the night, and then I'll get those clothes for you." Then he exited through the secret door, pulling it closed behind him.
Obtaining dinner, a candle and some bedding proved to be relatively easy, according to Alfred. England always made more than enough food because Alfred had a large appetite, and then the older nation went to bed early because he was tired, allowing Alfred to wander the house and take what he needed. The two smaller colonies stayed up for an hour making up a list of things Alfred would have to get for her before he left the area.
"Good night, sweet lady," Alfred said with a bow before closing the secret door.
Carolina looked around the room. It was not much larger than her cave, but it was definitely warmer. She was used to not having a bed, so the straw tick mattress and blankets Alfred had provided were actually more comfortable than the leaves she had been sleeping on. Needless to say, sleep found her rather easily.
Over the next few months, Alfred managed to get her everything on the list. First on the list was a dress. He decided to obtain several dresses in progressively larger sizes because in three weeks, she had mysteriously grown the same size as his eight-year-old body; it seemed like every morning she'd grown a couple more inches. To accumulate funds for buying food and necessities, Alfred managed to take coins from England's coin purse without his noticing.
Then Alfred started teaching Carolina how to read and write, which she learned easily and quickly, so quickly that he also had to "borrow" a few books for her as well (since she was stuck in the little room for most of the time England was at home). This passed the time quite pleasantly because she found she had a craving for knowledge that she couldn't explain.
Other than that, Alfred needed to get her food and drink as often as he could; her appetite seemed to be even greater than his, but at least her growth spurt seemed to have slowed to a normal rate. She seemed to be growing at the same rate as Alfred. A year passed without Alfred getting caught taking things from the house. He even started bringing her preserved goods in jars.
"What is it, Alfred?" Carolina asked one evening when Alfred came into her "room" with a sullen expression. She set aside the book she was reading and stood up from the cushion he'd provided her for a chair.
"We are heading north soon," he said. "England has some business to do, and I do not know when we will be back here. I am sorry, Carolina."
She shook her head, stood, walked over to him, and embraced him. "You helped me more anyone else could have or would have." She released him slightly and gestured towards the several purses in one corner of the room. "I believe I have enough money to provide for myself if necessary and plenty of preserved food as well." She stroked his cheek and gave him what she hoped was a happy and self-assured expression. "You have been more generous than I could ever have expected from a brother. Do not worry about me. If all else fails, I will hire myself out as an indentured servant."
"No!" Alfred suddenly wrapped his arms around her in a tight embrace. "I do not want that to happen; it would break my heart!"
This was not a reaction Carolina had expected from him. "Alfred . . ." Her heart started to pound as she brought her hands up to his shoulders to comfort him. As soon as she touched him, though, her heart ached and tears welled up in her eyes. She realized she needed him to comfort her as much as he needed her comfort. She hugged him back and found the ache subsided a little when she did.
"I thought I would be able to say farewell when the time came," Alfred whispered to her, still holding her close to him. "But I find now that I cannot say the words. I am not ready to."
The tears pooling in her eyes began to trail warm rivers down her cheeks, and she buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh, Alfred, Alfred! I do not want to say goodbye either. Do you really have to go?"
Alfred clung to her even tighter and, to Carolina, it seemed like they would both break to pieces if they let go of each other now. His tears dampened her shoulder as he reached up to stroke her hair while still holding her around her waist with his other hand. They embraced like that for several minutes while they both wept quietly.
"I must go," Alfred said finally, sniffing in a deep breath and moving slightly away from her as he tried to compose himself. "England says it is my duty." He noticed that her face was still wet with tears. "Ah, this will not do." Still holding onto one of her hands, he reached in his pocket and gave her his handkerchief. "Here, use this for your tears."
She wiped her eyes, but the tears still continued to flow.
Alfred furrowed his brow, and tears began to form in his eyes again. He cupped her face and began to kiss the tears away. "Do not cry, Carolina," he said in-between kisses. "I will find a way to sneak you into our new home as soon as we are settled. I will write to you."
She tried to stop crying and hiccupped out a breath. "Really?"
Alfred nodded. "I promise: I will write you as soon as I have enough money to get you to our new home."
With that promise, Carolina found she would will her tears to subside. She inhaled a shaky breath and released a sigh. "All right," she said, wiping the remaining tears away with his handkerchief. They held hands for a moment and both smiled, their hearts feeling as warm as their hands.
"America! I need you to help me with packing," England called.
Carolina forced herself to release his hands. "You must go now." She pushed him toward the entrance of the room. "Go before he tries to find you."
The house was filled with commotion for the next two weeks as England and Alfred packed and moved out their belongings. Alfred brought her as much from his own property as he could without it being missed.
Finally, the morning he and England were scheduled to leave arrived. "Goodbye," he whispered, tightly embracing her and kissing her cheeks repeatedly. Tears leaked out of his eyes. "I promise I will write you as soon as I am able. I promise I will come for you or send someone for you if I am unable to retrieve you myself. Please wait for me."
Carolina nodded and kissed his cheek. She opened her mouth but then hesitated. For the last couple of days, there had been some hints of that familiar sleepiness from her past that had caused her to grow so quickly. No, she told herself. It is needless to worry him. "I will wait," she said finally.
"America, get your bloody arse out here!" England hollered from the carriage. "I am tired of waiting."
Alfred kissed her cheek once more, then turned and hurried down the stairs. Carolina ran to his bedroom window and glanced out. She could see England scolding Alfred. She raised an eyebrow; she wasn't expecting England to look so young nor did she expect to see that despite his harsh words and strict manners, his eyes showed a brotherly love for Alfred.
Sighing, she propped herself up against the window sill, but then stumbled. Her whole body ached, and she was tired and dizzy. She shuffled back to the room and flopped down on the mattress that Alfred had moved there just days before, pulling the covers over her head to block out any light in the room. The sleep that had claimed months of her conscious self over a year ago edged its dark claws around her and gripped her tightly as her eyelids closed almost involuntarily.
A/n
I honestly hope that you've enjoyed reading this so far. I resisted writing this one for a while b/c I was worried that it might not go over well with the fandom . . . but the idea won't leave me alone so I had to get it out and up here.
I know I called it a Confederacy fic and it doesn't look like one yet, but I promise it will soon. Bear with me and read on to the next chapter. I know, I know. Right now it's looking like a romance story and that's it. Speaking of which, I haven't decided how much romance I'll be putting in this story (that is, whether or not it will have any lime scenes . . . I haven't decided yet), but regardless, the rating will likely go up due to the violent nature of war.
Also, I appreciate any comments you give me b/c feedback helps me to know if you find this story interesting or if I am just shouting in the darkness at a world that isn't listening. Thanks for reading!
Lastly, the title of the entire story will eventually make sense; I promise!
Hetalia belongs to Himaruya and other license holders, not me.