In the midst of night, footsteps attempting to be quiet made its way towards the large Kirkland Estate horse stalls. The individual stopped before a beautiful, magnificent and majestic white horse that stood tall, strong and healthy though humbling before him. The horse neighed when recognizing the person in front of him.
America, who was now physically sixteen years old wearing a white dress shirt, dark trousers, combat boots, leather gloves, a cowboy hat hanging from his neck and a leather knapsack, smiled and gently stroke the horse's snout.
"Howdy, Noblesse," the young teenager colony whispered.
Noblesse was one of the few gifts their elder, parental European family gave to the New World twins.
(America wanted to call their horse "Tony" while Canada wanted to call him "Snowflake" until it was revealed that England already named the horse "Noblesse".)
They both shared the horse and claimed equal responsibility and ownership of the lovely creature, though the roles are rather uneven. America rides Noblesse most of the time, relishing in the feeling of the wind blowing on his skin and the beauty of landscape of England while Canada was more than content to be the horse's caretaker. He groomed the horse everyday and never neglected him attention and love. He took care of Noblesse very well. It was no surprise.
Canada, his younger twin brother, so similar and yet so different from America, was kind-hearted, gentle, and empathetic. The French colony took quite a bit from their Papa France. Sometimes America cannot believe Canada was even his twin, let alone being England and France's love child/son because he is nothing like them. He was understanding and sweet and thoughtful…which was an anomaly in today's world, especially as a nation.
America just hoped that Canada would understand about Noblesse.
After finishing tacking up the horse, America unlocked Noblesse's pen and opened the door and grabbing its reins, gently though firmly tugging against it to get it out his stall and into the open fields.
"Do you really have to go?" asked a whispery voice.
America jumped at the sound of someone behind him. He turned; ready to engage in possible combat or conflict until he saw a young twelve and a half year old boy still in his nightgown, bathed in the moonlight, making his wavy hair and soft skin look silvery. A sorrowful expression was on his angelic face and appeared to be on the verge of tears.
The Thirteen Colonies hadn't spoken to him much since his violent growth spurts. That was around the time he began studying much more diligently and began ignoring his family. He wanted to play with him, but didn't have the courage to apologize for ignoring him for so long.
They used to be so close, but recently…
The young teenager sighed. "I have to, Mattie. I can't stay here anymore," he paused. "Not as long as Arthur refuses to listen to me and does not take me seriously."
Canada flinched when America just addressed their English father by his human name and not 'Father'. "But Alfie, Father will be upset. You are his first colony – you're important to him."
America simply scoffs at his brother's statement. "If so, he should really act like I am. He sees me as nothing but an ignorant child, Mattie. He's a tyrant – Arthur crushes all those who dare to oppose him." His gloved hands formed into trembling fists hanging on the flank of his body. "Arthur drove Papa away, Mattie. He broke our family because Papa sided with me, not him."
Canada flinched when he heard about his beloved Papa. Ever since America began displaying signs of rebellion (or "treason" in England's thoughts) when he began to question the system, England wanted his eldest colony to stay silent and be obedient. France, on the other hand, wanted America to express his individuality and encouraged him to say what he was thinking. Because of those two opposing views, their main European parents' opposing views, this led to fierce arguments, eventually led France to walk out of the home.
As much as France wanted to continue having custody of Canada, he couldn't since England won the custody battle and that said custody battle made him suffer financial turmoil. Despite Canada missing his Papa, England forbad the children from seeing him again since he still felt rather (extremely) bitter about France "abandoning" him, so he refuses to let his French-English children go anywhere near France, let alone communicate with him.
"But Alfie, if you leave…" our family will be even more broken… Canada thought, trailing off.
The Thirteen Colonies' bubbling frustration temporarily subsided when he saw his brother's tearing face. "I'm sorry, Mattie. I have to. I can't stand idly by while this…this injustice is happening! I need to go. It is what I must do."
Canada stared at his brother for a moment. "Do you really believe that?"
"Yes."
There was no hesitation in his response or a moment of wavering in his eyes. America's limitless sky blue eyes shone brightly with courage and passion. He was so certain that he will prevail and win glorious victory, despite the odds were against him, that Canada almost believes he will win.
Their mother was right.
America is like the bald eagle.
No one can ever cage such a magnificent and an untamable being from flying free and high toward the Heavens.
To be free.
But… "Is this liberty you seek truly worth the lives of men?" Canada countered. "Blood will be shed and lives will be lost. You will be facing Father, Alfred – the most powerful Empire in the world! What if you lose? Then what? All you have done will be for naught, Alfred! Can you not resolve this situation peacefully?" he pleaded. He hated war and violence. All he wanted is for everybody to be happy and at peace. He wants his family back. "Is it really worth it?"
America flinched and closed his eyes when he heard his brother's argument. He knows Canada's position on war. He was against it. He will always abhor war and violence and the sorrow and loss it causes for others. Despite never actually engaging in war, Canada had always seen the aftermath of it all. So much loss...so much human lives gone. All of his other siblings and younger family members disregarded because they do not understand; it was life or that the enemy deserved.
But not Canada.
Sometimes it scared Canada how easily his European family could easily pick up a sword – a gun – a weapon into their hands and simply remove a life from this earthly plane. And how they wanted the colonies – children – to be like them…
It terrifies him.
England had always regaled the twins with stories about battle and victory. He always said that victory because of God's acceptance upon them to win, smiting their enemies would make the victory all the more sweet.
Because of those romanticized depictions, America grew up believing fighting for the glory of their country or what they believe would make him a hero. He frequently pressed to his European family to teach him combat. Despite England's rejection of the idea (since why need to know how to engage in combat when all of the colonies were under the protection of the greatest Empire(s)?), the European countries taught their colonies how.
Canada always wept at the thought of loss and sorrow. He absolutely hated the idea of hurting or killing another being for selfish reasons. Though ironically, despite being a kind-hearted pacifist, Canada is a prodigy at combat and strategy. But, he would always try to avoid conflict or confrontation that would escalate into conflict. He hated conflict. Let it be physical or verbal – both still hurt. He'd much rather get hurt than hurt someone else.
(Because of that, their whole (European) family was so protective of Canada and is more than willing to destroy anyone who dared to hurt him.)
Nothing was said between the two brothers. America ignored the silence and pressed onwards, walking pass Canada with Noblesse following him in reins. He was about to mount himself onto the noble steed until something grasped his shirt. America turned to see Canada looking up at him with tearful violet eyes and the most heartbreaking expression on his face.
"Alfred," Canada whispered. "Please, please understand: if you choose to leave – if you lose, you might die; if you win, you can never come back home. Please stay."
America smiled sympathetically at his brother. "…Who will I be if I stay?"
With that, Canada began to weep and immediately hugged his brothers tightly in his arms. "I-I-I d-don't w-want you to g-go!" he sobbed, burying his face into his brother's chest. He had already lost Papa; he couldn't bear to lose anyone else important to him.
America returned the hug, tightly embracing his physically smaller brother. He nuzzled into his brother's soft wavy tresses, smelling his fragrance of maple, snow and wildflowers. "Come with me, Matthew," the teenage colony whispered. "We can be together like we used to be. We'll both be free."
Canada shook his head in response.
The young boy couldn't. Despite England being a very strict and overbearing man, he is still his father. He needed someone there when America leaves him. He needed someone to hold his hand to know that he wasn't alone; he will never be alone. And, what about the rest of their family? He couldn't risk breaking their hearts alongside America's. The younger colonies would need someone to hold them and reassure them that he would never leave them.
He'll be independent one day, just…not now. He wasn't ready. "I'm sorry, Alfred. I can't."
America frowned. Canada was being a naïve fool. But, he'll free his brother from England's rule one day once he sees it. Though for right now, he had to concentrate annexing himself from his English father before thinking about Canada yet (and maybe their other half-siblings/cousins in the southern Americas).
They held each other in their heartfelt embrace for a long time before America finally (and reluctantly) releases his beloved brother. America mounts himself onto Noblesse and faced towards the horizon. The sun was about to rise. Without saying anything else, America placed his cowboy hat onto his head as early dawn was breaking through the dark night sky. He was going to the Channel to meet up with Papa France and his uncles Spain and Prussia. France offered America help him return to the Thirteen Colonies where he will further his training for when he will be ready to face England. America squeezed to let Noblesse know that they'll be leaving.
As the horse trod past Canada, America quickly watched his brother's expression.
Canada sniffled and rubbed his eyes with his sleeves. He looked up at America with sad, tearful eyes.
I love you, Alfred. That wordless message was conveyed through his understanding though hurting smile.
America looked back at his brother and smiled sadly before saying something that was not audible.
I love you, too.
With that, America whipped the reins, and he and Noblesse galloped away. Canada's violet eyes followed their disappearing figures before watching the sunrise. He murmured something before retreating to the manor.
Goodbye. Be safe.
Disclaimer: do NOT own!
Originally, I was thinking about making a three-shot story called "The Legacy of War" where both Canada and America would experience the realities of war, but I just made the one. That's how lazy I am.
I mean, I want to write a multi-chapter fanfic, but I'm unsure if I can commit to it since...yeah. I'll try, but I'm pretty sure it'll blow up in my face somehow.
Sorry for the sucky title; I'm just really bad at labeling sometimes.