A/N My history teacher had us write historical fiction about Jamestown, and this is what I came up with.
Disclaimer: I don't own hetalia or any of the characters related to it.
Picture this, a young boy, no older than eight, running through the woods. In his hand he grips a bow, across his back a quiver is slung. Spring is in full bloom and he is hunting food for his family, and practicing his accuracy. Panting he stops, to gaze longingly at the sea. But today is different, there is something interfering in the mass of glittering water stretching out in all directions. Three giant canoes are creeping up over the horizon. He turns away and runs off to tell his mother, and the chief Powhatan. Little did he know that this was the day that his life would change forever, and his small safe world would be ripped out from under his feet. That boy is me, Mahpee. The youngest son of the wise one. Or as my people call her Hehewuti. My mother is what you foreign men would call an oracle, or perhaps a prophetess. My family, well I suppose you could say we wandered. My mother was known thought the land as a great prophet and respected elder. We would travel the land visiting different tribes, and my mother would tell stories and give the chiefs advise in exchange for food and shelter. My family at the moment consisted of me and my mother. About a year ago my brother Matoskah left us to find his own way. For the past few moon cycles we have been staying with the Algonquian people. My mother has warned the chief of another tribe that will come to this land and over throw him. According to her the spirits say that this tribe will be the foundation of a new nation in this land.
When the strange men first left the giant canoes they looked around a little bit, before rummaging around in the water with strange metal flat bowls, if they were trying to fish they were doing it all wrong. I wanted to run over to them and show them the right way to fish, but I followed my mothers orders. She had told me to ignore the strange new arrivals and let the adults deal with them, and to not, under any circumstances, interact with them unless she gave me permission or my life depended on it. Of course even if I couldn't talk to them I was still going to watch them. My mother wanted to find out what they were doing here in our land before we took any action. The chief Powhatan was not so, how should I put it, patient I guess. He, despite my mother's reluctance, went ahead and ordered his men to attack them. It was pathetic really, the strange folk stood no change against our arrows. From my vantage point in a tree I watched as one of the Algonquian warriors, creeped out from around a tree and notched an arrow. It flew right threw one of the strange man's back, and blood pooled out of his stomach. The others around him looked around in shock. Did they really think that no one would care if they just took the land as their own. And their weapons they were, odd, to say the least. They were very lethal if used correctly, but at the same time they were unreliable, slow to rearm, and the complete opposite of stealthy, after one shot everyone would know exactly where they were. Less that half a moon cycle later they had constructed a wall (is that how you say it?) barricading the area around their camp.
It was predictable that the strange men with little knowledge of these lands would eventually run out of food. However it wasn't that predictable that the strange men would come to us for help. A barter and peace treaty of sorts. I can tell my mother is just a shocked as the rest of us, although it is hidden well under her calm and collected demeanor. Their leader, a tall man with shaggy hair, holds his musket (that's what they are call, I think?) in front of them in a surrendering manner. He introduced him self as John Smith. The men want food in exchange for these colourful stones that enthrall the chief and his advisers. My mother is no fool though. She mummers something in chief Powhatan's ear that I can't hear. He glanced at me and then back at her questionably. She nodded her head, yes. He turned back to John Smith and addressed him formally. "We will give you enough food for a moon cycle and teach you what is safe to eat around here, in exchange for those stones, but you must also agree to teach one of our young your language." John Smith nodded, and turned to leave, but Powhatan spoke once again. "Be warned if harm this child you will not only be declaring war against my tribe but all of the Algonquian people." Alright so maybe Powhatan was stretching to truth of his control a little bit but this John Smith didn't need to know this.
Me! They wanted me to learn English. Little ole me. But then again why me? Why not the chief's daughter Pocahontas, or someone else more important? I didn't know. Well I did know why the chief didn't want his daughter to learn English, it was a new and "corruptive language". But that was beside the point, after all those months of spy... watching and wondering, I was actually going to met the source of my curiosity. I can remember the day I met my tutor like it was yesterday. He approached the appointed meeting place hesitantly. I remember standing there impatiently, and when I finally met him being shocked at his grass coloured eyes, in contrast to my own unique sky blue ones and my mother's honey coloured ones, and his hair that was the colour of ripened corn. "So you're the young lad I'm going to teach?" he asked more to himself than me. I stared at him, eyes full of confusion. He must have understood, because he started chuckling softly. The young man introduced himself as Arthur. And I return I told him my name Mahpee. Arthur Kirkland, as he calls himself, turned out to be a rather nice bloke, he is rather unprejudiced about my people and happened to be just as interested with our culture as I am with his. Though it does get bloody annoying when he keeps repeating himself when he thinks I can't understand him. See I have learned some of your language. The chief's daughter, Pocahontas, had originally wanted me to teach her, what I had been learning in my lessons with Arthur. I did, I really did try, but it got hard to keep meeting her in secret to explain to her this strange new language I was learning, especially without Powhatan finding out.
I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do now. It is early spring, March I believe, and my mother wants to leave this part of the land. To move on. To continue traveling. I don't, not really. I have friends here like Pocahontas, and that silly git Arthur, and I love the land here. It's beautiful and it makes me feel at home just like brother felt a couple years ago. I don't want to leave here. But I don't want to leave my mother behind either. I don't want to leave her wandering alone, I couldn't possibly live with myself if I did that. I remember the promise my brother Matoskah made me take before he left us. He made me swear to always protect our mother and keep her safe. I don't want to leave this place, but I can't leave my mother on her own. My determination hardens, as I force my self not to cry. "Good-bye Pocahontas. Good-bye Arthur Kirkland," I mummer under my breath. I can't help but pause and swivel my head to get one last look a that mysterious Jamestown, before running down that unbeaten path to catch up with my mother.
A/N This was going to be a one shot but if anyone wants me to write more review or PM me.