America Take 2

by lil-sakura423

What would have happened to the world if Baby America had picked Francis instead of Arthur to raise him. How would the world have changed if France was the world's extended super power? And how would his independence play out?

1. Birth Redo

Disclaimer: So I don't own any of these characters, though most of the names used in this fic are based off of real historical people.

This is just my interpretation of how America, and the world (within Hetalia), could have been if France had won the war. So don't take it too seriously. :)

A special thanks to Hidekazu-sensei, and my editor Hoshiko. Thank you!

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Part 1

Birth - Redo

~ 1601 New France Territory~

It was the beginning of a new century and many changes were being made. Time had given most the privilege to redeem themselves from the depths of despair; to go from being the lowest on the food chain to the kings in the palace.

A tall blonde man with long blonde hair and blue eyes smiled with excitement as he looked around the wooden platform that led to the massive shipyard. Taking a deep breath he glanced at the brand new land that would soon be his to call his second home.

"Alright men! We have much to do before sunset! We failed one too many times in this land before and it won't happen again this time!" the captain, Pierre de Chauvin de Tonnetuit , blared over the deck of the largest ship.

Francis nodded and began making his way out into the uninhabited fields. The smell of the sea water, the sound of the leaves under his feet, the look of the bright blue sky, it was almost too much for him to handle.

Without wasting any time the men quickly set to work cutting down trees, building fires, and fishing for food. The bustle from the dock to the gravel was more than enough assurance to the French man that nothing could stand in the way of his new found dream of global conquest.

Within a few hours the French flag was flying high on the nearest hill for all of the world to see. Sitting around the campfire, the men set to work drawing out maps and making food for their adventure back to the supposed wasteland.

"Sir Bonnefoy, now that we've made it to this land to trade fur from King Henry's approval all we have to do is get the so called 'Montagnais' that Monsieur Cartier and Du Pont discovered to agree to join our trading post," the solider reported.

Francis took the map and began looking it over carefully. The lines were sketched carefully as if it were a key to a secret treasure; mountain ranges, large bodies of water, streams, known settlements. It was perfect. "I see. And these indicate what exactly?" he asked pointing to the darkened spots on the map.

"The path of the Saguenay River. According to the messages sent we have to make sure to watch out for whales and sharks that are occupying these waters. These dark spots are the cliffs that we could consider as an alternate route."

Francis nodded and pushed some of his blonde locks out of his face. He straightened the puffy collar on his shirt as a smile whipped across his face for the millionth time that day. "Oui. This seems like a good place to start up the post. Make sure that everyone is prepared to capture any animals, beavers especially, for our first official sell. For now..."

"Oui sir! Right away!" the solider nodded before running back to the group.

The first evening on the new island went as smoothly as planned. The morning sun slowly rose over the horizon, not even giving off enough heat to rid the morning frost from the leaves on the trees. Francis growled a little under his breath as he made his way back from the nearby stream they were using for cleaning.

"Even in the supposed warm season the morning air has a bite." Francis frowned and slid his clothes on quickly to rid himself of the shivers. He looked over to his soldiers as if waiting for a response.

Before the men could answer there was a rustle in the bushes behind them. Francis stood up and turned around cautiously watching the wild shrubbery as he reached for a piece of wood that was floating lazily on the shore. "Not to worry men," he whispered. "It's only a sign that life is sustainable on this island," he added as he continued to bend down slowly not wanting to make any sudden movements.

But before he could get his hands on bush, the creature from behind the shrub showed its face. Francis was more than confused at what had stuck its head out. A child? What in the world was an infant, especially one of this size, doing on an island like this?

"Mon ami...are you lost?" he asked holding out his hand to the boy. He was no taller than the length from Francis' knee to the ground. His messy, light blonde hair had a distinct curl poking off the left side of his head.

"Careful sir. We don't know who he belongs to or worse, who he's working for," one of the soldiers spoke softly.

"He's a child. What could he possibly do to us?" Francis asked and walked over to the boy. He bent down in front of him and held out his hand again smiling.

"Who...who are you?" the little boy asked.

"My name is Francis Bonnefoy, and I am the land of Française," he said flamboyantly. "I have come from across the ocean to see this new land in hopes to see the rest of what it has to offer," he said softly. "I presume you live here?"

The small boy looked up at him with violet eyes full of fear. He was dressed in only a large cloth and his tiny, shaking legs were sticking out from under the material.

"You don't have to be afraid of me mon ami. I won't hurt you. In fact," he placed his hand on his head. "I will help you develop."

"De...velop?" he looked away. "You aren't with the Vikings. Are you?"

"Oh no! Those barbarians? Never!" he said smiling. "We're better, stronger, and more civil than that."

"I don't know." he said backing away a little. "I should leave. As should you."

Francis eyed him and smiled, shaking his head. "Trust me. I won't hurt you. Look, I'll even keep my hands in front of me so you can see them at all times. And if you start to feel uncomfortable at anytime, just let me know."

The boy paused and thought for a minute, wondering if he could really trust the man. He looked into his eyes and then nodded slowly. "O-okay."

"Oui! Then let us feast!" Francis said as he stood up slowly and turned back to look at the group. "Alright men. This young one is going to be with us for a little while. He knows this area. I think he would prove useful to us on our journey."

The soldiers looked between each other not really trusting the boy, even though he was no taller than any of their knee high boots. Although none of them would dare to disagree with him to his face.

When they made it back to the camp, Francis sat the boy down next to him and handed him a bowl. He watched him carefully and observed his actions. He could tell that this was no normal child. He was indeed a soon to be nation. And if things went according to plan, his nation at that.

"So," Francis started. "I know that your "land" name is called Canada. Or how I would prefer to call it, Nouvelle-Française," he grinned. "But what is your name?"

The boy looked up at him and shrugged his shoulders a little. "Matthew."

"Matthew?" he asked sipping his wine. "Where did you get that name from?"

"Several years ago, people came to this land in a large boat with colored sails. It was the name of their ship. I guess...I just got attached to the name," he explained softly.

"Clever one you are. That suits you. You should keep it," he nodded.

Matthew looked up at him and smiled a little. "R-really?"

"Oui. But wait. Where did you learn to read? From the earlier settlers that have been here I presume?"

Matthew nodded a little but didn't really respond and finished off his meal.

"So how do you like it?" Francis asked and took his bowl from him.

"Good. Different from anything I've ever had."

Francis nodded. "Well then you can have it more often if you like."

"I can?"

"Oui. From now on Matthew, you and moi are partners."

"Partners?"

"Oui," he smiled. "As you yourself said my people have been here for quite some time. And it wouldn't be fair of me to just take it from someone as small as you, no?"

Matthew looked down and nodded a little. "I wouldn't want that to happen again."

"Good. Then I-we will call this new settlement...Tadoussac," Francis nodded. "The first trading post of mainland Nouvelle-Française."

"Sir, do you really think that it is a good idea to just go and claim this land without compromising with the natives first?" Tonnetuit asked carefully.

Francis looked up to the captain as a smile painted his face. "I have no idea what you mean. This boy here is the native's leaders."

The rushing waters of the falls seemed to always put his mind at ease. His golden blonde hair and bright blue eyes reflected in the crystal, clear water. He flinched as the cool water hit against his bare skin.

He reached his hand out to catch a large fish that had been swimming by but, due to the size of his hands, it managed to slip by. He growled under his breath and stood up with a look of disappointment. He then looked up to the sky and raised an eyebrow.

Dark smoke clouds were carrying through the clouds above from the north western portion of the falls. He could smell it in the air that it wasn't the smell of the regular pines that the natives used in this area.

There were people on the other side of the falls, and this time he wasn't sure how to get rid of them before they found their way in to the Great Lakes valley again. He picked up the cloth, wrapping it around his waist, and turned around taking off towards the cliffs.

He ran into the forest on top of the waterfall and began looking around frantically. He heard a branch snap behind him and quickly turned around.

"America," a soft voice came from behind the trees. It belonged to a tall, dark skinned woman with long black hair. She wore clothing that looked made from some material other than cotton and her long legs were only covered by a short skirt and no shoes. "This place is not safe. Those from across the sea have found their way back here."

America looked up at her with angrily. "How? Didn't we leave a warning with the last group who dared to venture onto our land? We can't just stand around and let them take over! Shouldn't we fight back?"

She shook her head and began walking past him patting his head slowly. "They have weapons that are more powerful than anything we have, almost the same as the people to the south."

America furred his eyebrows and looked back out to the falls. "Well, with any luck they won't make it over these cliffs."

She nodded. "Until they come into our territory we shall not attack. We don't want to invite death upon our tribes," she said gazing out at the bountiful land before her.

America watched her before turning off and running back into the woods. He didn't agree fully with waiting out and being hunted. He was going to spread the words to the tribes himself, if only so they can take proper precautions.

~1604 Coast of the Niagara Peninsula~

With Port Royal, Tadoussac, and Quebec springing quickly to the life, the French have claimed the northern portion of the St. Lawrence River in such a short amount of time with ease. It was impressive to many of nations back on the Mediterranean, though Francis himself still wasn't satisfied as there was an entire continent that he needed to see.

Moving south and following the river, instead of heading straight west, most of the French soldiers were quickly mapping out and learning to adapt to the climate. Plus, there were many high quality animal furs worth a lot of money back in Europe.

"Well this river has led us to a lake of some sort," Francis said looking at the map and then over the hill in front of them. "I wonder just how far down it goes."

Matthew looked up at the bottom of the map standing on his tip toes. "Oh you mean this lake? It continues on for a great distance. It splits off into four more."

Francis looked to him surprised. "Four more lakes?" Perfect. He thought to himself. With all this moist soil, livestock, and most importantly, fish, they could make a fortune.

"Alright then, Matthew, after we're finished setting up here you have to show me around these other lakes." Francis nodded hoping that there would be more wilderness for his use. "But what...is over that mountain range there?" He pointed.

"The mountains over there? That land beyond there belongs to the sub-Indian tribes. I don't know much about it as I've never really ventured that far. They call that land down there...America."

Francis' grin only widened as he folded the map and placed it into his pocket. "Is that so? Well then I think it is time for us to pay that land a visit. Don't you think?"

Before Matthew could even answer Francis had already taken off to tell his men the good news. He had heard stories about America from Spain, but for some reason had decided to come to Canada first. And even though the first two times were failed attempts, he knew that this time was going to be a success in both nations.

With the plans for his new fort nearly complete, Francis had headed off with a handful of men towards the large mountain range. For miles and miles they had been walking until they had come before a large waterfall-like canyon. The landscape made a large horseshoe shape so that Francis, Matthew and the troops faced the expansive waterfall.

Francis had to take in a deep breath at how beautiful it all was. "These falls are beautiful are they not?"

Matthew nodded and walked over towards the edge of the cliff. "I wonder if this is where the extra source to the lakes is?" he mused aloud.

"Sir! There is someone down there!" one of the soldiers shouted and pointed downstream at the rocks by the mouth of the falls.

Francis squinted his eyes and leaned further over. "Is that?"

Matthew gasped and ran down towards the rocks with ease as Francis tried to keep up and not fall over the edge. "HEY! HEY!" he yelled at the small figure that was about to lean over into the water.

The small figure looked up and turned to look at the two running over. The closer they got the more detailed the figure became. A small boy that looked almost identical to Matthew stared over at the two. Although Matthew's lighter shade of blonde and violet eyes made it clear that the two were not identical. At least not to each other.

"I don't..." Matthew huffed as he stopped in front of the kid. "I don't think you should be leaning over the cliff like that!"

The boy looked up at him and narrowed his eyes.

Francis caught up with the two and huffed as he looked between the two. Strange. Were they brothers? But he could have sworn that Canada was only one land, not split into two like Italy. "Boy, what is your name?"

The boy stood up and reached for his cloth and wrapped it around his waist.

Francis looked down at Matthew and shrugged his shoulders. "Perhaps he doesn't understand us?"

Matthew looked into the boy's eyes and shook his head. "That's not it. I know you can understand me," he said reaching his hand out to touch him.

The boy took a step back and smacked his hand away. "Don't touch me."

Francis grinned and placed his hands on his hips. "So you can talk. You just wish not to."

The boy looked up at him and stood up backing away from the edge. "Leave this place. My people do not wish to fight you if it's not necessary. So please don't give me a reason to attack first."

Francis could have cried out with joy. Oh how God was smiling down on him! He didn't even have to go searching for him. He had come to him! This kid had to be America. He was about the same stature as Matthew and his way of speaking was not that of a normal human child.

Matthew shook his head taking a step towards him. "Well I can assure you that we aren't here to fight. If anything we only want to ask for your help."

The boy looked between the two. "My help? And what could you possibly need my help for?"

Francis walked over and bent down in front of him. It was time to work his magic. He could only hope that this kid was easily persuaded like Matthew was. "We are looking for more land and wildlife in order to grow crops and trade fur for sales across the ocean."

The boy looked to him as if he had a third eye. "You want me to help you kill my animals and use my soil to make money for you?"

"Well when you put it that way it doesn't sound very fair now does it?" Francis grinned.

"And you are?" the boy finally asked.

"My name is Canada," Matthew said softly though a smile came to his face. There was an unexplainable feeling that drew him to America; as if he had known him his whole life.

"And I am Francis Bonnefoy, the land of Française," he said holding out his hand to him. "By any chance would your name be America?"

The boy looked up at him a bit shocked as he took another step back. He felt his heel scrape against the edge of the cliff.

Matthew reached his hand out to him again afraid that he was going to fall. "Be careful."

Francis stood up slowly and shrugged his shoulders. "What do you have to lose by just coming and talking to us?" he asked looking the boy over. "Neither one of us is going anywhere anytime soon after all."

"And how can you be so sure?" America asked looking up at him regaining his balance.

"Call it a gut feeling," he said holding out his hand to him one last time.

~-1605 London, England~

Everything was starting to change. Arthur was wondering if it would ever happen, or more like, when it would happen; when his empire would begin to fall. Never did he think he would see the day that the French empire would rise to power...again.

Thanks to the Dutch and the Spanish Armada, his people were not only tired, but low on money. And thanks to those bastards taking over his portion of the Indian Ocean, the money he should be receiving from his colonies wasn't coming in fast enough.

He sat down in the King's council room and ran his hand through his messy blonde hair. His tired green eyes scanned the large wooden table before looking down at himself. A white collared shirt stuck out underneath a black vest as his black dress pants were covered at the bottom by his boots.

His clothes were wrinkled and, had it not been for the fact that he had been called here on such short notice, he would have made himself a bit more presentable. Though he felt he had a valid excuse for looking the way he did.

With the death of Queen Elizabeth and the crowning of King James on his plate, he didn't even have the time to go and discover things or meet with anyone for trade. The only thing he had done was try and make a pact with Spain to end the war between the two that he had only been involved with because of the Dutch.

The talk of the new land had been spreading faster and faster and he was more than curious to find out what it was all about. Although with France already beginning his invasion and England's lack of supplies, there was no way he would be able to dare venture across the sea.

"Arthur...are you paying attention?" King James asked waving his hand in front of Arthur's face.

Arthur shook his head and looked over to him with a small smile. "Oh yes, of course, Your Majesty. Please continue on."

"As I was saying," he started and cleared his throat. "The council have heard word that the French have not only set up three cities in the land that is now called Canada, or "New France", as they call it, but they have two trading posts and they have already made alliances with two of the Indian tribes."

Arthur looked up to him with a shocked face and shook his head placing his hand down on the table. "Excuse me. What did you say? How is it that he could have made so much progress in only half a decade? Didn't they themselves say that land was uninhabitable during the winters and that they were losing so many men? How have they figured a way to even survive?"

James looked over to him and sighed. "The natives must be helping them in exchange for the trade. It's very well possible also that they have decided to move further south...towards America."

Arthur stood up and nodded. It was about time he did something to redeem the British Empire's name. "I can't just stand around and let him become more powerful. I won't allow it. If Spain was able to claim some of that land then we should be able to as well."

James looked over to him and stood up as well. "Are you sure you want to try and go up against them?"

"We are the bloody British Empire. We will not back down from anyone. We've been through much worse," Arthur growled.

James sighed and looked down at the embroidered table cloth. "I see you are a stubborn as ever. Elizabeth's council warned me about that."

Arthur looked to him and stood his ground. "Regardless of the consequences we need to get over there as soon as we can. I know for a fact that the people of England refuse to believe that any nation, especially France, is climbing above us."

"You shouldn't let them live in such a fairy tale land Arthur," James said softly and glanced out the window at the city. "And neither should you."

"I'm not living in a dream land," he said firmly. "I know that my people can do it whatever they set their mind to and that they deserve a lot more than what I've been able to provide for them. Even through Elizabeth's excellent reign so much more could have been done."

"And avoided," James added in as there was a slight moment of silence.

"Whether you agree or disagree with my reasoning is up to you. But you can't tell me as King of this land you will willingly sit back and let one of your rivaling empires rise to uncontrollable power."

James looked into his passionate green eyes as a small smile came to his face. He was staring into the eyes filled with the determination of his people. There was no way he could deny them what they truly wanted. "You have my permission to take men and go."

Arthur smiled and nodded thankfully at the sign of approval. "Thank you Your Majesty."

"But," he added in quickly. "If there really is nothing of profitable value that we can get our hands on while avoiding war, you bring my men and you come home."

Arthur nodded and continued to smile as he made his way out of the room. There wasn't a chance he would promise avoiding war, but he would definitely make sure that they wouldn't come home either empty handed or leaving their mark.

The week had passed and Arthur couldn't wait any longer. Preparations were finally completed and the longer he waited the more behind he would get when it came to being one of the settlers of this new land. Setting sail off the coast of the mainland came quicker than any of the sailors and soldiers asked for.

Arthur had made sure to bring everything he thought was necessary for the long journey. Guns, food, stock, and even a bit of gold in case negotiations had to be made.

"Sir," a sailor called to his attention as he walked over to the head of the deck.

Arthur was hypnotized by the feel of the waves beneath his ship. It had seemed like forever since he had been out to the wide open seas. The thought alone brought back so many memories.

"Sir?" the sailor asked this time a bit concerned.

Arthur turned around and looked to him. "Do you need something?"

"Sir, according to the lookout have set course towards the main land of Canada," he said showing him a map of the Atlantic.

"And the French soldiers? Where are they stationed?" Arthur asked.

"We aren't entirely sure, but some of our spies have brought back information from Paris that there is a trading port called French Port Royal in the land of, what the French like to call, Acadia," he explained pointing to the map.

"And we don't know where these three settlements that he has are located?" Arthur pressed.

"No sir, there is not further information on that as of late. But we do know of an abandoned region several kilometers from Port Royal were we can dock."

Arthur looked up from the map and to the sailor. "Very well then. Tell them to go full speed ahead. Avoid any other ships at all costs. We are in no condition to fight or lose any precious cargo."

"Yes sir." The solider nodded and walked back towards the lookout.

Arthur knew that the French were going to find out about their arrival soon after they step foot onto the land. So he would have to lay low on the other side of where French's main base sat. However, he knew that even with the mountain of spoils he brought along to bribe them with to venture away from war, peace wouldn't stay for too long.

~Up Stream of Lake Ontario~

It had taken much convincing and much bribing to get the boy to cooperate with France's request. He still hadn't given them full access to explore his land, at least not without supervision. This was when Francis had decided to speak with his people directly.

The eastern Indian tribes were the main groups that have agreed to cooperate with the treaty. Francis was okay with this as he had didn't have contact with those tribes to begin with. Though, once he had gained the trust of them, he slowly but surely gained the trust of America.

"Big brother Francis!" Matthew smiled running over to him. "Look! Look! I found another beaver!"

Francis looked behind him and smiled bending down pretending to carefully inspect it. "Good work Matthew, but I told you that you didn't have to look for them anymore. We have plenty of fur now."

America yelled out from behind the two and laughed. "How about this?" he grinned holding up a full grown ox with one arm.

Francis laughed and shook his head. "Be careful America! We can't have you getting hurt."

"Hurt? But look at how strong I've become?" America boasted and looked at the two. "Can you do that?"

Matthew frowned and stepped from behind Francis. "Stop showing off, America."

"Or what?" he asked putting the ox down. He began walking over to the two.

Francis stood between the two boys and shook his head. "Now, now boys remember what I taught you. Civil war will only hurt you in the long run. Now let's..."

"Sir Bonnefoy! Urgent news!" a solider yelled running over to him. "The British have landed on the mainland of Acadia!"

Francis grinned and placed his hands on his hips. "Hm...I was wondering when he was going to show up."

Matthew looked up at Francis and tugged on his pant leg, still holding the beaver. "Who are the British?"

Francis looked down at the two boys and smiled. "No one important that you two need to worry about. All you should know is that they won't be staying around for long," he said as he nodded to the solider and ran after him. "Stay here! America, look after your brother!" he yelled over his shoulder.

America watched him run off and then looked over to Matthew, smirking. "Well...want to go see who these people they call British are?"

Matthew shook his head. "No, you heard what brother said. We have to stay here."

"Why? So we can never know what's going on? I want to see what's beyond here. He said he came from across the ocean right? How come he's never taken us there?"

"Maybe because it's dangerous. He is looking out for us. I mean...think about it. He hasn't been home in ages."

"And who's stopping him from going home? I mean it's not like he isn't free to come and go as he pleases." America crossed his arms.

"That may be but he is just keeping his promise to us. Remember, he said that he was going to help us develop. It's not as if he can do that from across the ocean. You yourself said that he has been helping us out with the trade and all."

America scoffed and began following after the two that had just ran off. "You can stay here and play with Makawee and the Indians if you want, but I'm going to go find out what's going on for myself."

Matthew watched him run off and sighed. If they got caught, or worse, hurt, Francis would be incredibly angry with them. And it was scary when he got upset. But he couldn't lose his brothers. They were both important to him; he had to protect them. "America, wait!"

America smiled, knowing that he would follow after him eventually and continued to run forward.

~Coast of Acadia~

"Sir Kirkland...we have to move out of here fast. The French…they found out that we were..." a solider started but was interrupted.

"I am not leaving," Arthur said sternly. "Look at how flourished this land is. All of these trees, the mountains to the north, and the bay that supplies all of these rivers. Even if the winters are to be harsh, with a little preparation on the off seasons, we can make it."

"But sir...they probably know this land better than we do. Even if we do decide to run further into the country we would not only have to face the Spanish, but also the Indians. We don't have enough supplies or men to take any of them on," the solider explained.

"Then we will find a way. If we can hide out here until they either leave us alone or the cold drives them away. By the looks of the soil winter isn't coming for another month or two."

"Hiding out for two months? How is that supposed to get us our supplies that we need to survive the winter?" the solider asked reluctantly.

"That's something you can figure out...now isn't it?" Arthur asked annoyed.

"Sir Kirkland!" another solider ran over looking behind him.

"What now?" he asked turning to the man.

"The Indians! The Indians sir! They're here!"

Arthur looked to him and then began running in the direction he came from. If he could get the Indians to make the French leave, then maybe he could hold out for a bit longer. That is...if they didn't already have an alliance with them too.

"Oh...America...where did you go?" Matthew asked as he continued to search through the wooded pine. He had not only been searching for Francis, but now also America. "He's just too fast for me," he huffed and wiped his brow. He then stopped and jumped up into one of the tree branches hearing the sound of voices close to him.

"So...you're the British leader," a voice came from behind Arthur.

He turned around slowly, and didn't see anything until he looked down. A small boy with blonde hair, blue eyes and a hair sticking out of place on the left side of his head stared up at him. What was a small French boy doing all the way out here alone? How did he find him so quickly? And what was this strange aura emitting from him? "And you are?" he answered him in French.

"I should be asking you that question. You aren't supposed to be here. So get out of here before I tell brother Francis that you are here," America said pointing up at him.

"Brother...Francis..." Arthur said to himself and looked back to the boy. "What is your name?"

Before he could answer a voice came from behind them.

"America," a soft voice spoke.

Arthur turned around to see a tall, dark skinned woman with long black hair.

"You're...America," Arthur said softly and watched the boy. "That explains that feeling. Then that must mean you are..."

"Makawee, the Land of the Natives," she said softly, standing between America and Arthur. "I advise that you take your soldiers and go back to where you came from across the ocean. Sir Bonnefoy has made alliances with most of my tribes on this coast and has gained my trust. I don't need another country coming in and starting trouble."

"My name is Arthur Kirkland, and I am the Kingdom of England. I assure you Madame Makawee that I am not here to start any trouble. If anything I am just here on official business to help my people get back on their feet."

America stepped from behind Makawee and glared. "Then why have you come here of all places? Especially when you knew that this land belongs to us?"

"With the hopes," he smiled softly. "That you would share it with me."

An arrow flew passed Arthur's head taking a lock or two of his hair with it.

"I think not," America said as the tribe came out of hiding. "We won't share this land with anyone else."

Arthur took a step back, feeling the power that flowed through his words. Before he could say anything, his men ran over to where the three were standing. "Sir! They've attacked! We..."

Makawee looked to Arthur and placed her hand to her side. "I told you to leave before it was too late."

Arthur turned around and looked behind the group of men that were with him. They had been surrounded on almost all sides. He silently cursed under his breath. One false move and they would be torn to shreds.

Matthew then jumped out of the tree and ran over to the group. "America! Makawee! Stop it!"

Arthur turned and saw another small blonde boy running towards them. "What..." he then turned around and looked from America to Matthew. "Wait..."

"Canada! Get back! Don't come any closer to this man!" America yelled. "We have it all under control. After all...it's my land he's after."

"You mean my land," Francis' voice came from behind Matthew as he walked over to the group slowly. He had a group of his soldiers following after him ready for anything Arthur tried to throw at him. "Face it Arthur, this land has already been claimed in the name of the King of France. You try to take us on as you are now..."

He didn't have to finish his sentence. Arthur looked around knowing that they were clearly outnumbered, on men and weapons. He cursed under his breath and looked over to his men. "Fine..."

Matthew ran over to Arthur and shook his head. "No! Wait!"

America reached over and grabbed Matthew's arm. "Stop it!"

Matthew shook his head. "No! It's not fair! Why should we send him away when we have all this land and space? You heard what he said. He just wants to help his people! How are we any different?"

Francis smiled a little, knowing just the type of nation Canada would soon become if he wasn't careful. He would have to change that...and fast. "You are correct about that, Matthew. But think about this," he said circling around Arthur like a shark. "If we keep letting any and every one come over here whenever they feel like it then what land would we have left?" he asked not taking his eyes off of Arthur.

The French, British and Indians stood in battle position. If one false move was made they would fire on command.

Matthew looked to the ground and then looked up at Francis. "But...didn't you yourself say that the point of meeting new people was to become partners with them?"

Francis laughed and stopped walking, standing in front of Arthur. "Ha...Mon ami...let me tell you something. This man," he said looking Arthur in the eyes. "And I...could never be partners."

Arthur didn't back down. As if he would. He looked from Francis and down at the two, Canada and America; two growing nations that had so much potential. And yet to be in the hands of...of this man. A waste! And this woman...she must have been the country representing the Indians. But was it possible to have two countries come from one land?

America stepped up. "Well if you don't think you can be friends with him then it would be best not to have any more trouble."

Arthur walked around Francis and began walking over to his men. He would leave, for now. But he was going to convince those boys that being under the rule of the French King was a mistake.

~1606 Coast of Lake Huron~

A year had passed since Arthur and the remainder of the British soldiers had begun the fishing trade post off the coast of the great lake. Because France was so busy trying to run out the Dutch and the Indians were expanding westward, the only one that knew of his secret stay there was Matthew.

He had told him that he was only going to keep it a secret until he was ready to let his presence be known, though sooner or later he knew that either America or Makawee would find out that Matthew was hiding something.

"America. Please you can't tell anyone," Matthew begged as he followed after his brother.

America shook his head and continued heading towards the lake. "You've let them move in and now they've taken over a lot of farm lands in the Midwest! How all of the tribes around there failed to notice them I will never know."

"It's because he's gained some of their trust now. They trade not only between each other but over the oceans too. And Arthur is really nice. He's..."

America stopped when he saw the new towns that had sprung up on his land from atop of a hill. "I can't...believe how fast they built those...with such little people."

"It was a struggle to stay alive during the winter also. They don't have the training or the immunity we have to survive some of the winter diseases..." Matthew explained. "He's lost...a lot of men."

"Then why won't he just leave? It's stupid to stay here and die out!" America pressed.

"Because America, you heard what he said! They can't just give up now. Think of all of the people depending on them back home," Matthew stressed.

"I see you've figured out my secret," Arthur's voice came from behind a tree. He stepped aside and turned to face the two.

"Arthur!" Matthew smiled and ran over to him.

Arthur smiled and patted his head. "Nice to see you. I was beginning to worry that something happened to you," he laughed.

America's face softened as he slowly walked over to the two. "What are you still doing here? I thought we ran you British out."

Arthur raised an eyebrow and knelt down in front of him. "Nice to see you too America. I've been doing fine. And you?"

America grumbled and crossed his arms. "Fine. But you won't be soon. Give me one good reason why I shouldn't just tell brother Francis that you are here."

"Don't America! I told you, he..."

Arthur cut Matthew off and looked into America's eyes. They were as blue as the deep ocean, a color that he could stare at for hours. A small grin came to his face. "What is it that you want?"

America looked to him a bit surprised and furred his eyebrows. "What?"

Arthur stood up and looked at him nodding. "What is it you want...that he won't give you?"

America looked at him and then away to the ground. "I...well...I..." he started.

Arthur nodded. He had gotten one of them to trust him. Now all he had to do was get the main one and this land will no longer belong to Francis. "How about you come with me? We can discuss this country to country."

America looked up at him confused. "C-country?"

Matthew smiled. Things were starting to look up already, hopefully.

America looked behind him and then forward again. He wasn't sure if this was the best decision. But if Matthew had been able to trust him without getting hurt then maybe he could too. No. What was he thinking? He was falling for a bribe. But then again...Francis did the same thing to him.

Arthur smiled and held out his hand. "How about it? A simple discussion. If you still don't agree, then I will pack up my people and leave."

Matthew looked up to him with wide eyes. "What?"

America stared into his eyes. He wasn't backing down and that, to him, was the act of a trustful person. "Fine, but if I am not impressed, you leave."

Arthur smiled softly and nodded. "Shall we?"

As the three walked away towards the fishing port, behind them watched a pair of curious brown eyes. Francis would indeed hear about this.

When they arrived at the cabin America looked around curiously. It was much different compared to Francis' cabins. This was neater, not as extravagantly decorated and even normal looking to a non-European eye. He took in a deep breath and scrunched his nose. "Ah-what? What is that smell?"

Matthew smiled and sat down in a wooded chair. "Tea leaves," he explained as he began swinging his legs.

"Tea leaves?" America asked as he walked over to the table and sat down next to him. "What are you doing? Burning them?"

Arthur laughed and shook his head. "Not necessarily. We boil them in water."

America rubbed his nose and looked to the large kettle by the fireplace. "Boil?"

Arthur nodded. "Yes. So that we can drink it," he said and set three cups on the table. "Have you never had tea before?"

America shook his head slowly and looked at the cups carefully. They were intricately decorated, made of some sort of glass like material. "No I haven't."

Arthur laughed a little. "Well then consider this your lucky day," he said carefully grabbing the kettle with tong like utensils.

Matthew nodded and looked to America. "It's really good. I like mine with sugar and syrup."

America laughed. "You like syrup on everything," he teased.

Arthur began pouring the tea and pulled out the milk, honey, syrup and sugar. "Well I like mine with milk," he grinned. "I have plenty of it and plenty of time. You can mix and match if you like."

Matthew snatched the maple syrup and spooned three spoonfuls into it. "I think he would like the honey."

America nodded and grabbed the honey, sliding a small bit into the tea. "So, about this conversation we were to have?"

Arthur grinned and nodded looking down at his cup. "Straight to the point I see. Alright then. Have you given me an answer?"

America took a sip of the tea, squinting his eyes a bit. "Yes," he said setting the cup down. "I want to go across the sea."

Arthur stood up and walked over to the cabinet and pulled out a plate. "Across the sea? For what reason may I ask?"

Matthew looked up to America curiously and continued to sip his tea off of his syrup covered spoon.

"I want to see the world," America said simply and looked over to him.

Arthur could tell that this boy was going to conquer the world someday. He was smart, had determination and negotiation skills, he learned from Francis no doubt, and was braver than many men he had encountered yet. "I see."

America waited to see what he was going to say. He watched as he sat the plate in the middle of the table and raised an eyebrow. "What is that?"

"Scones," he said smiling. "They go great with tea."

Matthew looked to the plate and laughed nervously. "They go good with...something that's for sure."

America raised an eyebrow and took one of the scones off the plate looking at it suspiciously.

Arthur popped on in his mouth and nodded. "That's such a large goal. Seeing the world," he said watching him. "But it's possible."

America then began choking and spit the scone out. "What is this?"

Matthew looked over to him laughing as he finished off his tea. "I told you."

Arthur looked away. "Well they are a bit stale..."

America raised an eyebrow. "A bit?" he asked and tried to wash the taste away with the tea. He then shook his head and hopped out of the chair. "Look. If you can get me around the world, then maybe we can arrange for you to stay here."

Matthew looked to him and shook his head. "That isn't your decision to make."

"Yes it is. And he did ask for my permission did he not?" he smiled and nodded his head. "Thank you for the tea. But I will be leaving now. I've stayed long enough."

Arthur stood up and watched him. "Give me a few months. Once the winter has passed I will have a boat and all for you."

"I make no promises," America said quickly opening the door. "Just because you made a deal with me doesn't mean you made a deal with all of America."

Arthur watched him leave the cabin trying to figure what it was he meant by that. Either way he would win the boy over.

~ Winter- Coast of Lake Huron~

The winter had come faster than any of them expected. Arthur wasn't even sure if his men could make it through the rest of the year. And as if anything couldn't get any worse the French had found out about their location... again. And rumor had it that they were not going to hold back this time.

Arthur trudged through the inches of snow near the iced up lake. They had come up with battle formations and even had a few reinforcements thanks to the neighboring tribes.

"Sir, preparations are complete," a solider gasped running over to him. "They are only seventy or so kilometers away. However, there aren't as many of them as we expect."

"Arthur!" Matthew yelled as he ran over to the two. "Arthur! They're going to attack! Brother Francis is..."

Arthur looked over to Matthew and shook his head. "I know. But you have to get out of here. It's going to get...too dangerous."

Matthew looked up to him curiously. "You...aren't really going to fight him...are you?"

Arthur nodded and looked up and out over the vast land that was covered with snow. "I am. Like I said before, we, the Kingdom of England, back down from nothing. And this place is too much for anyone to try and handle themselves. Especially him..."

Matthew shook his head. "But...why? Why do you have to fight about it? Why can't we just..."

Arthur bent down and placed his hand on Matthew's shoulder. "Because Matthew...Francis won't listen to anything I say to him. Be it about this or anything else, we have never been able to see eye to eye. And I highly doubt...that we ever will."

Suddenly there was a gunshot that came from over the hill. "They're here!" the solider yelled running back towards the base.

"It would be best...if you got out of here. I wouldn't want...anything happening to you," Arthur said as he stood up and walked away from him quickly.

Matthew watched as he walked off and turned to look up the hill. He would put an end to this. Once and for all.

Francis grinned as they approached the British base and looked over the hill. "Excellent. I will finally claim my place in the world as the most powerful empire to have ever ruled."

Arthur walked out of the logged building and held up his gun. If his men were going to fight then he would fight along with them. There was no way, even if it seemed like a failed attempt, that he was going to give this up easily.

Francis could see the small group of men gathering together and getting into formation. There was no way he was actually trying to fight him was it? Then again this was Arthur. If he were to give up easily then he would have had to been concerned that something was up his sleeve.

"Alright men! It's now or never! We only have us and the land below us to help us reclaim our dignity as British men!" Arthur yelled and pointed up towards the hill that the French were staring down at them from.

Francis looked back at his men and nodded. "Let's drive them back across the ocean where they belong."

The French charged down the hill and began shooting as soon as they were in range. Gun shots could be heard for miles as they began the battle. Francis stood in the back as he watched his men run down the hill. As far as the eye could see smoke from the gunpowder was slowly beginning to cloud the area.

Arthur cursed himself under his breath as he hid behind a crate. Peeking his eye over the top he readied his gun.

"There are approximately fifty of them sir," a solider against his back whispered to him.

"And we only have thirty men. Our others have gone off on that mission," Arthur replied. "We have to stick exactly to the plan. If we lose even one man we..."

A gunshot flew through the barrel and cut him off mid sentence. He stood up quickly and shot his gun at the French solider hitting him in the leg.

"LET'S GO!" Arthur yelled as they ran from out of the alley. He refilled his gun and took another shot just missing a soldier on top of a roof. "Damn it! How did they get down here so quickly?"

Francis rubbed his hands together as he grabbed a gun from the cart and readied it. He told his men to leave Arthur to him. If he was really going to give his all in this fight then he wanted to be the one to personally get rid of the annoying British man.

"America! America you have to stop them!" Matthew yelled as he continued to pull his brother towards the battle field.

"How? I can't stop them Matthew!" America retaliated.

"I don't know! But you have to think of something and fast! If something happens to brother Francis or Arthur...all because they were fighting over your land...how could you deal with that?"

America looked to the ground and shook his head. "You're right...I should stop them," he said as he ran down to the battlefield.

Arthur hid behind one of the buildings trying to catch his breath. He was just surprised that they had even lasted this long with such a small troop. But if he didn't stop to eat or sleep or even restock soon...he was done for.

"Give up Arthur," Francis said as he pointed the gun at him.

Arthur held his breath and turned his eyes to look at him. How did he find him? "That's impossible. You and I both know that you don't deserve to hog this land all to yourself."

Francis raised his eyebrow and sighed. "Arthur, Arthur, Arthur. Look at the condition you are in. I could take you out right now. And the sad thing about it? No one back in your land would ever know a thing because they would all be dead and silenced. As they should be, for going up against me."

"You think you're so big and bad now just because you have a little power! You haven't even had a taste of what being a real empire is like!" he growled.

Francis clicked the barrel on the rifle. "Do you want to try me? Because I will be more than happy to take you out of the equation if it means my own sweet victory."

"I'm not afraid of you Francis," Arthur said once again.

Francis pulled the trigger and took a step back.

Arthur fell to his knees and held his arm. "Ah..." he hissed and looked down at his hand as the blood slipped through the cracks of his fingers and dripped onto the white snow.

"Like I said," Francis grinned cockily. "Give up and go home."

"Stop!"America yelled as he ran over to the two and held up his hands.

"America...what are you doing here? Get out of here before you get hurt!" Francis demanded.

"No. I should be able to choose who shares my land with me! Not you two or anyone else!"

Francis laughed a little and turned to face him. "Is it even possible that you would consider him an option? You have a better chance at dealing with Spain if he wasn't so preoccupied with his own unfortunate downfalls."

"For your information, America and I have a reasonable relationship," Arthur chimed in as he winced holding his head down. "Just because you're jealous of him making a new friend doesn't mean you have to drive me out."

"Jealous?" Francis scoffed. "You heard what Makawee said, this land belongs to him and her. I just so happened to gain her trust in helping develop America beside her."

"Still, shouldn't I be the one to decide whether or not you get to keep me or not?" America asked.

Francis sighed and looked down at the boy and nodded. "Of course mon ami. How could I forget? Why don't you decide who you want to help raise and develop your people?"

America looked between the two and jumped at the sound of another gunshot. "I can't...I can't think."

Arthur sighed, feeling sorry for the boy. He didn't want for him to have to go through this, but at the same time the horror of what could happen if he was run under the French government... "America," he said softly and lifted his head up. "You are who you are. You don't belong to anyone."

Francis was getting fed up with Arthur putting those ridiculous ideas in America's head. He had to get him out of here and fast. "Mon ami, look at the options you have here. Staying with me you will have everything you ever wished for. Those ridiculous British and their stuck up rules and outrageous taxes. Not to mention your three neighboring countries are all allies with me. Meaning if anything were to happen to you, you are more than safe."

"Yes, but staying with me means you will be free to roam wherever you please. You yourself said Francis keeps you so limited here. Not only that but you will have many international allies. Not just your neighbors," Arthur said softly and began lifting himself up slowly though the pain was slowing him down.

America looked between the two and held his head.

"That may be, but I never said he didn't have the freedom to leave. I just told him now wasn't a good time to go wandering off in other countries," Francis defended.

America sighed and looked over to Arthur. "He's right..."

Arthur raised an eyebrow. "Wha...what do you mean?" he asked nervously.

America looked up at him and frowned. "I don't know if it would be best for me to just go...go off away from what I know. I do like you Arthur, and I appreciate all that you have taught me, but the fact of the matter is... I've known Francis longer. I trust him and...well to put this simply...you can't cook."

Arthur's mouth slightly hung open as he looked to the small boy in confusion. "Wh...what?"

Francis couldn't help but grin. "Face it Arthur. You were too little too late. And because you tried to win over a heart that was already blessed with the wealth and knowledge of the French Empire...I think you should have already foreseen your loss."

Arthur looked to the ground defeated. How is it that he could have lost? And to France? It was as if their roles had been reversed. "I..."

America looked over to Francis and glared. "I never said that you owned me to begin with!" he said pointing a finger up at him. "If Makawee or even the Spanish heard you say that my land belonged to the French empire, how do you think that would go over?"

Francis laughed a little and looked down at him as he hoisted his gun over his shoulder. "You are too young to understand America. Sometimes with great power comes sacrifice." He then looked to Arthur and smiled. "Oui?"

Arthur looked over to him and glared as he placed his hand back over his bullet wound. "You wouldn't know anything about sacrifice you coward."

"Coward?" Francis asked raising an eyebrow.

"You hide behind these so called people of yours and expect to become something great?" Arthur yelled. "You call yourself a country, but you're nothing more than a..."

Francis placed the gun against Arthur's head and growled. "Say one more word."

"I said stop it!" America yelled. "Get out! Both of you get out!" he screamed and bent over holding his hands to his ears, closing his eyes.

Francis looked from Arthur to America and lowered the gun walking over to him placing his hand on his shoulder. He dropped the gun to the ground and lifted his chin to look at him. "I'm only doing this for your protection, America. I know that in the future, you will thank me for this."

Arthur stood up and hunched over a bit and watched the two.

America held onto Francis' shirt. "Make it stop. Make all of the fighting stop," he said as he shut his eyes tighter.

Arthur looked away and sighed. "America...I apologize for any hurt I caused you. I only wanted..."

"GET OUT!" he yelled and pushed away from Francis and ran back towards the hill that over looked the battlefield.

Francis watched him and looked back to Arthur. "You heard him. You've been dismissed," he said before running after the small boy.

---

(Please review! I hope you all enjoyed and there is plenty more to come. Look out for Part 2 titled Development. ^^

Also some footnotes about things, historical names, and places used in this chapter:

1) Pierre de Chauvin de Tonnetuit was a French naval and military captain and a lieutenant of New France. Chauvin, along with Francois Grave Du Pont, obtained a fur trading monopoly for New France in 1599 from Henri IV. The two then went along to build a fort at Tadoussac that year.

.org/wiki/Pierre_de_Chauvin_de_Tonnetuit

2) The Montagnais are a sub division of the Native American tribe Innu.

.org/wiki/Innu

3) There was never a reason given for Matthew's name, but many fans think that his name came from the caravel sailed by John Cabot from Bristol to North America in 1497 that was named Matthew.

.com/wiki/Matthew_Williams

4) Acadia was the name given to lands in a portion of the French Colonial Empire in northeastern North America that included parts of eastern Quebec.

.org/wiki/Acadia )