For once it was a beautiful day in the British Isles. The sun was out and the clouds seemed to have gone and bothered Spain for once... all in all it should have been the perfect day to relax...
"Care tae repeat that ye stupid Sassanach?" or maybe not. Canada sighed as he and America watched their 'father' and uncle duke it out once more.
"I don't think I will Angus, because apparently you're not listening!" England snapped back, bristling at the attitude his oldest brother seemed to have taken. Wales and Northern Ireland sat next to the two ex-colonies and continued sipping on their tea,
"That took a little longer than I thought it would." Wales mused, "The weather must've improved their moods." Nothern Ireland hummed,
"Aye, it's rare for those two to go more'n two minutes without an argument." He agreed. Their attention was drawn back to the argument when Scotland finally shouted,
"...and ye bloody well wonder why I want tae be completely independent again!" Canada tried to get between his father and his uncle to calm tensions down somewhat,
"Will the two of you please stop fighting like this? It's beyond childish." He pointed out. England glared at Canada for a moment,
"Stay out of this Matthew!" he snapped before returning his attention to his brother, "As for you," he snarled, "You joined the Union voluntarily! Be grateful I let you have to freedom you got!" Scotland's expression darkened, causing even Canada to flinch away. Wales raised an eyebrow,
"Ooh, sore point there." He muttered, "You should both leave it at that..." he called; trying to avoid what he knew was coming next. Unfortunately neither of his brothers were in the mood to listen to reason. Scotland glared at Wales before calmly crossing his arms over his chest and looking back to England, seething,
"I dinnae mind signing ony formal declaration on that." He said, his voice dangerously low. England scoffed,
"Oh no your Parliament had to do that for you didn't they? All because of your own bloody stupidity over some tiny plot of land in some godforsaken swamp!" That had done it. Wales and Northern Ireland looked at each other and quickly backed off to a much safer distance, dragging Canada with them. America stayed where he was; not really understanding the implication of what England had just yelled. There was a pregnant pause as Scotland digested what England had just said. After two agonising minutes, he grabbed his coat and lighter off the table and marched away from the little garden party,
"I'm awa' home." He muttered darkly, not bothering to even glance back to see anyone's reactions. Canada watched his uncle go warily, that was not the reaction he'd expected at all. Apparently it wasn't the one America had expected either,
"Dude... what just happened?" he asked obliviously, pushing Texas back up the bridge of his nose. Wales cautiously went back to his original seat and glanced up to England,
"Did you have to bring that whole thing up Arthur?" he asked quietly, "Now he's probably going to go drink himself half to death." England snorted,
"He started it." He replied petulantly, "Besides it's been well over 300 years, you'd have thought he'd be over it by now." Canada slowly sat next to Wales,
"I'm not entirely sure I understand what you're going on about eh?" he said quietly, "But from what I understand at the moment it wasn't anything pleasant." America nodded as he straddled a seat next to England,
"Yeah, I'd like to know what's up too." He said, looking confused, "I mean Scotland never just walks away from a fight." Northern Ireland picked up his coat,
"I'll leave you two to explain that. I'll go make sure the bastard hasn't tried to kill himself." He muttered. Wales sent his younger brother a small smile,
"Ta North," he replied, "just make sure that he doesn't eh?" Northern Ireland gave the Welsh man a short salute before following his oldest brother's trail. Canada looked up, eyes wide,
"Oh maple." He squeaked, "It can't have been that bad..." he looked over to Wales, who merely shook his head,
"It's not my place to explain it to you boyo." He said quietly, "It's a very sore point with Scotland even after all these centuries." He sighed. He sent England a glare, "Something Arthur knows full well." England huffed and crossed his arms over his chest defensively,
"I don't know why you're making me out to be the bad guy here. I was just making a point." He snorted, "Not my fault the lad died." America looked more confused than ever,
"Could one of you please explain what the heck you're talking about?" he asked, "I mean, all I know at the minute is that something happened way back when that involved some kid dying and Scotland not getting over it and I'm not seeing any connection." Canada meanwhile suddenly seemed to realise something,
"This is about the failure at Darien isn't it?" he asked quietly. Upon seeing the puzzled look on England's face, he sighed, "I remember papa talking about it at one point, he said it was a shame that he never got a chance to meet "the little cheri"." He explained. England sighed,
"France always was a sentimental git." He muttered, "But yes, that was more or less what we were talking about." He sighed. America seemed to be struggling to remember something,
"Darien... Darien..." he muttered before seeming to remember something, "Was that the tiny little kid that Scotland brought down to see us at one point?" he asked, looking to England for confirmation. England nodded, looking quite guilty,
"That would be the one. Scotland was so damned proud of that boy, despite how sickly the child was." America nodded with a frown,
"I always wondered what happened to him." He muttered, "All I remember after meeting him for the first time was that you took me back home and then left really suddenly. The next time you bring me to London for a visit Scotland's living with you." Canada frowned,
"Uncle Scotland was already part of the UK by the time I came to live with you guys, so what happened exactly? Papa never really explained it to me." Wales sighed heavily,
"I suppose it can't hurt to tell you, you're Scotland's favourite nephew after all." He poured himself a glass of gin and settled back into his seat, "Basically in 1690 Scotland founded a small colony on what is now the Isthmus of Panama. It was originally set up so that a bunch of labourers could build a canal to link the world's two largest oceans to improve trade. The only problem is that South America was Spain's territory and Scotland's navy wasn't nearly as vast as England's. Despite all that Spain eventually agreed that Scotland could have that area for his own and it was only a few days later that he came across little Darien." Wales paused for a moment to take a drink of his gin, noting vaguely that England was looking fairly uncomfortable while the boys were sat on the edge of their seats. The Welsh man put his glass on the table before continuing,
"Scotland, of course, was eager to show the little lad off and sailed back home with him, sure that despite a difficult start the boy would soon grow into a thriving colony. Unfortunately it wasn't just a difficult start for Darien. The area the colony had been set up in was, as England pointed out, nothing more than a swamp. It wasn't any good for farming and the colonists ended up contracting various tropical diseases that killed the majority of them off. I tried to help Scotland look after the ailing lad, but it was obvious that the attempt was futile. A second shipment of colonists arrived in the area only to find the place in ruins. All of them later succumbed to disease and starvation." He sighed, shaking his head, "Darien foundered and Scotland almost followed him shortly after. The whole disaster ruined him financially and his government collapsed." He looked up to England, who was looking away pointedly, and sighed again, "About 7 years later the Acts of Union passed in both Edinburgh and Westminster and Scotland joined the rest of us under England's thumb." America blinked as Wales finished,
"Wow... just..." he tried to get his head around the whole sorry situation, "No wonder it's a sore point." He finally settled on muttering. Canada looked across to England, who wasn't looking at any of them, sighed and shook his head,
"The funny thing is, it could've happened to anyone," he pointed out, "either everyone else was very lucky or uncle Scotland was just really unlucky, it's hard to say which." Wales nodded, sending the young Nation a small smile,
"That's what we keep trying to tell Sir ex-empire over there when he tries to use the disaster against Scotland in an argument. You've just put it a lot more succinctly than me, North or Ireland ever could." England grumbled, albeit it in a slightly guilty manner,
"Alright you've made your point, I'll go make sure the idiot hasn't offed himself and apologise." He muttered, getting up out of his seat and grabbing his coat. America jumped up beside him,
"I'll go with you, just in case he feels like murdering you instead because I'm a hero like that." He said brightly. England sputtered for moment,
"You will do no such thing. I'm not some dainty damsel that needs saving every time my brothers get upset with me." America ignored England's protests and grabbed his 'fathers' arm and dragged him towards Scotland's house, cheerily humming what he thought was a very heroic tune. Wales and Canada watched them leave with blank expressions before shrugging and turning back to one another to talk about why their family was so completely delusional.