1753

A blonde head bobbed up and down, making its way through the crowded port. The boy moved as fast as his small legs would carry him with one wayward curl bouncing with each step. His violet eyes were wide and frantic as he searched the docks desperately.

Finally, he spotted him.

"Papa!" He called, running over to the large, ornate ship at the end of the pier.

Matthew came to a sudden halt in front of the ship's captain. "Papa, vous êtes partez tôt trop?" You are leaving so soon?

The captain shook his blonde locks from his face, swiftly tying them back with a blue ribbon and smiling fondly at the young boy.

"Oui, Mathieu."

"Vous reviendrez, non?" You will return, right?

The man knelt on one knee so he was eye level with the anxious boy. "Don't I always, mon fils?"

A smile spread across Matthew's face as he looked up at his guardian with adoration.

"Oui, Papa." Of course he would come back. Francis always returned to him.

Matthew threw his arms around Francis' neck then, and the man quickly reciprocated the affection. As much as he hated good byes, these were the only times that Matthew would freely give his affections.

"Au revoir."

Matthew's voice was hardly more than whisper, but Francis' gentle squeeze on his back let him know that he had heard.

They broke apart and Francis boarded the ship heading back to France.


1763

Matthew hugged Kumajiro tighter as the voices in the next room carried over to him. He could hear the anxious pacing of Francis through the thin walls, and feel the tension between him and boss.

Things always seemed to be tense with him in these last seven years.

"Mr. France, there is no choice in the matter," his boss said sternly. "This is not a matter of preference, but of worth. And our southern colonies are worth more than this cold, wilderness. You have a duty to your nation to fulfill."

There was a deep sigh from the older nation and Matthew could picture how Francis would run his hand through hair in frustration.

Matthew couldn't keep up with the conversation so he didn't understand what was frustrating his guardian, but he knew it was his duty to help Francis feel better.

The door to the large study finally opened and Francis made a hurried exit right past the colony. France's boss followed shortly after and gave Matthew an apologetic smile.

Francis entered the room, knotting a scarf around his neck and then holding out Matthew's own winter coat.

"Let's go for a walk, Mathieu."

Matthew gave him a bright smile before bundling up, grabbing a hold of Kumajiro, and heading out the door.

Francis had been so busy lately that it had been years since the two had spent time together.

The strolled down the quiet path in comfortable silence, admiring the setting sun painting the sky shades of red and orange.

Francis let out a quiet sigh and Matthew looked up at him curiously. He grabbed a hold of the man's hand and squeezed it gently.

Matthew wasn't good with words, but it was way of letting Francis know that he was here for the older nation. That he would always be here for him.

Francis gave a sad smile to the small colony. "I have missed having time like this, just the two of us. You make it easy to forget the rest of the world, Mathieu."

Matthew blushed at the praise and gave his guardian's hand another squeeze before releasing it and they continued down the darkening path.

Despite being in his own country Matthew couldn't figure out where Francis was leading them, but he followed him faithfully.

"Look," Matthew pointed ahead at a patch of purple blossoms. "The anemone are still in bloom."

Matthew bounded to the patch and picked a few choice flowers, beaming as he presented them to Francis.

Francis graced him with one of his breathtaking smiles, but as he looked at the flowers, the colour just a shade deeper than Matthew's, the smile faltered.

He caught himself quickly though and ruffled Matthew's hair affectionately.

"The anemone pulsatilla. Do you remember what we call it in French?" Francis asked.

Matthew's forehead creased in thought, then brightened as he exclaimed, "the Pasque flower!"

"C'est bien. Your French is coming along very nicely."

Matthew smiled and blushed again. "Merci, Papa."

As they rounded another corner a large house came into view. Matthew looked from the house to Francis in confusion, but the man remained focused ahead.

What were they doing at England's house so late?

Francis led the way up the house to the front door and knocked sharply.

Matthew held his breath while they waited for the host to answer. He had been to this house before. Francis visited his oldest rival often and brought Matthew along once to meet England's own North American colony; America, the well intentioned but still obnoxious, self-proclaimed hero.

The door swung open to reveal the cross looking Brit. He gave a knowing smirk to the two of them and stepped aside to let them in.

Francis took a few steps in with Matthew following right on his heels. Arthur wasted no time expressing his irritation at the presence of the Frenchman.

"In case you've forgotten, Frog, you were not included in this deal. So don't let the door hit you on the way out," he stated flatly.

"I will send the rest of his things tomorrow. If you have not already killed him with your terrible cooking."

Francis threw a withering look his way and then knelt in front of his colony.

"Mathieu, you need to listen carefully," he began, adjusting Matthew's collar idly. "Arthur is going to take care of you. So you need to be strong, and you need to be a good boy."

Matthew didn't know how to be anything else.

"You will return, right?" His wide eyes searched Francis' face desperately.

The older man's eyes fell to the floor as he shook his head. He could no longer meet the expectant look of his charge. His former charge.

"Not this time, Mathieu."

Francis stood and straightened out his coat. He shared a meaningful look with England and then left the house swiftly.

England wasted no time locking the door behind him. When he turned to face Matthew though an unsure look crossed his features. "It's getting awfully late," he mused, scratching the back of his neck. "You should get to your room. Unfortunately, you'll have to share with Alfred."

He directed Matthew up the stairs and down the hall while he went in search for extra blankets. Matthew pulled Kumajiro tighter to his chest as he made his way through the quiet house. His new room was spacious and the soft snores of Alfred floated across the room towards him.

A nightdress was folded neatly on the bed, which Matthew changed into, trying not to wake up his new roommate.

England quietly knocked and then entered the room shortly after. He lay an extra blanket at the foot of Matt's bed while his new charge crawled under the thick quilts.

England pulled the sheets up and tucked Matthew in just the way he did Alfred. He pretended not to notice the way the nation flinched away from him as he drew near.

"Right. Well… I'll see you in the morning, Canada. Er – Matthew."

The colony gave no acknowledgement, but England was already stumbling his way out of the room.