A revised version of my old story Scrapbooks Are Never Finished, which is really a peace of fangirly crap...This is going to be written better, and I may or may not throw in mpreg depending on how my readers feel. Countries may pop out of nowhere, or I may take a different direction from my previous story and focus more on the states or even PruNJ or HolBel if that's how things work out. As such, feedback is a must, so please tell me which direction I should be heading in. Thanks and enjoy~!
THIS IS A PROLOGUE. IT IS SHORT. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. I AM A ROBOT.
Disclaimed: Hetalia is property of Himaruya. If it was mine, Germany and Italy would be married and there would be a lot of focus on America's states. Because I'm American. And Americans are self-important. But you watch Hetalia, you already knew that!
"I love him, Brook," New Jersey swooned, twirling a daisy between her fingers as she leaned against the side of the stable, her eyes glazed over with romantic dreams, a lovesick sigh escaping her lips.
"Mhm," New York—Brook Lyn Jones—paid her younger sister little heed as she fed her favorite horse, black mare named Rosie, a carrot from her garden.
"He aims to marry me, you know," Nina Jessamine Jones announced as if it were not the fifteenth time to date she had said as much.
Brook shook her head, "Lord, do I know! It's all you ever talk about! How about you put that head of yours to use and help think of a way to stir the economy? Not that there's much going on in that head of yours when it isn't dancing in the clouds with that contemptible scoundrel..."
"He's not a scoundrel!" Nina yelped, throwing down the flower she'd been admiring and stomping her foot childishly. "He's a complete gentleman, and I would hope my sister would wish me luck with my marriage! You really should love him, sister! He'll be a part of the family, he will!"
"You are such a simpleton, I swear!" the elder stood to her full height, almost a full foot taller than her sister, and glared down at her. "Just because a man invites you to his bed does not mean that he aims to marry! It doesn't even mean he loves you, Nina!"
A still silence fell over the two, neither moving an inch even when a cool breeze drifted past.
"Three months...Has it not been?"
New Jersey dared not bow her head and show weakness, but in doing so she allowed New York to get a good look of her deep blue eyes, the same shade as their father's. Brook saw the doubt in them, the longing and sheer need; for a moment she almost felt sorry for saying the things she did.
No words passed Nina's lips, and New York, not one to wait on others patiently, turned away from the darker haired blond while tucking a stray piece of her own lighter hair behind her ear. The former colony, now a state, resumed her work while her companion picked up her fallen daisy and started to pluck at the petals, a habit she had whenever she felt anxious about something.
"Brook-"
"I pray you, peace, Nina!" New York refused to look at her. "You've made us all look like damnable fools! Why has he not yet recognized us? And why, all of a sudden, does one of the heartiest drinkers in all of the United States suddenly decide to turn sober? What say you, New Jersey?"
The frustration just bubbled over and out came the rage. New York, a girl known to enjoy the classy theaters of her home and drunken dances alike, hardly ever turned serious. She was a liberal girl, not afraid to show off her ankles in public; England had always chastised her for her indecency. To have New York upset with her could only mean that her fellow brothers and sisters had to be as well. New Jersey, her heart so full of love for the man who had led her through the tough decisions and the war, suddenly felt as if said heart had been trampled and left in the snow to grow black and shatter into a million pieces if another soul dare tried to touch it.
"T-the Treaty of Paris..." the girl practically shook in her boots. "He promised once France recognized us-"
"France has recognized us! The Treaty of Paris has been signed! So why does he deny us his ports? He doesn't recognize any more than he recognizes his lack of manners!"
Nina bit her lip, the tears only just managing to keep from falling. "B-brook..."
"What? Does he write you letters filled with fake promises? Does he? He's not coming back, you foolish girl! You are my sister, and I cannot call you a whore, but I can call you an idiot!" she snapped, whirling around so fast New Jersey flinched, fearful that her elder sister would beat her. "What say you, New Jersey? What say you of this man?"
"Brook, I'm with child!" she shouted, then let out a choked sob as the whole world seemed to stop turning.
"...Oh...Oh my..." New York's anger dissipated, only to be replaced with what could only be described as disappointment and utter loss. "You are..."
Nina blinked through her tears and slowly nodded. "The last night he was here...H-he told me..." she hiccuped, her face turning red as she continued. "H-e said...We had to make it s-special b-because he didn't know when he-he'd be comin' back and I—I-!"
"Oh, Nina..." Brook exhaled, slumping down against the stable, her younger sister joining her not a moment later, curling into her arms and starting to sob into her shoulder. "My darling little sister...Oh..."
New Jersey sobbed. "I n-need-! Him! H-he has to marry me! That has to be what he w-w-wanted! I-I can't have no bastard, Brook! I can't!"
"Hush, hush..." New York held the girl close, cooing into her ear. "Breath, love...Breath...Oh, Lord, help this girl...Help this child..."
As New Jersey slowly cried herself to sleep, New York couldn't help but think, 'Both of them...'
"She's beautiful..." America whispered as he caught the glimpse of his first grandchild. Granted, he had not wanted to be a grandparent so young; he was only a young adult himself, and his states were mere teenagers, but then again, he had them at that age as well.
"Younger than she are happy mothers made," South Carolina had reminded him of that bit of Shakespeare's so-called wisdom, though it did not make him any happier.
"It's disgusting," Massachusetts had snorted when he found out. "Not so much the age, but the father...He's a complete pig..."
But she was beautiful. Sure, she was just a little round ball of pink flesh, but he could just see it; she was going to be gorgeous.
"I don't know, she looks kinda bald to me..." Bo Stan Jones—Massachusetts—commented, only to be playfully slapped by New York who was also admiring the tiny babe sleeping with her mother.
"Did she name her?" Alfred suddenly asked, eyes leaving the tiny bundle for just a moment to look at Delaware, who had taken the job as midwife.
Delaney shook her head. "No. She wanted you to name her."
"Me?" Alfred quirked an eyebrow, frowning thoughtfully.
"Well, she said that since this is the first time it's happened in our history...Only you've the right to decide the babe's fate..."
"Starting with her name?"
"Aye," Delaware nodded her, her long red locks bouncing as she reached to fluff her sister's pillows some more. The room was cold, even with over a dozen people crammed into the tiny space, and Delaney motioned for Pennsylvania to throw another log on the fire.
America shook his head. "I've named you all along with your mother. They should name their child."
"The bastard don't even know he's got a kid. You know that," Bo reminded him.
"Then Nina will name her. As for her fate, I propose she be the capital of the state of New Jersey. That is, again, something for Nina to decide. She will decide her own capital, and the capital will be one with the girl. The rest of you will follow this pattern," Alfred concluded with a nod.
"...That's how Mummy did it with her other grandchildren, isn't it?" New Hampshire whispered, clutching a doll England had sewn especially for her.
Bo glared at her from across the room; New Hampshire had always been very attached to England, and she still carried around that damned doll even after they had fought justly for their independence. It made him absolutely sick...
"Don't you call that tyrant 'Mummy'!" Samuel Charles Jones—South Carolina—read his mind.
Nora Heather Jones let out a small squeak and clung to her father, who merely sighed, his eyes back on his granddaughter. "You're all still just children yourselves..."
Alfred suddenly felt so very sad looking at Nina and her newborn.