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 Hoshiko2. Thank you!
Part 2
Development - Retold
~1751 Quebec, Canada~
The war had finally come to an end, and with the evidence of the British ever invading the land fading away, France had decided to come up with a way to make sure there was no more room for any other country to try and take a piece of the North American land. A five way treaty between France, his two colonies Canada and America, Native America and Spain was signed, known as the "Division of the Continent", agreeing that no country will negatively interfere with another ones territory. Francis thought that this would be enough to keep himself preoccupied and away from Europe for the time being. That peace, however, didn't last for very long.
Although a little over a century had passed since the great battle for America, not much had happened in the land of the Americas. However, European and Asian countries were facing countless wars and deaths, causing more problems than either of the young nations wanted to get involved with. Because of this, and his hunger for more power, Francis had left the two baby colonies alone for years at a time to help deal with the countries that unfortunately picked France as their enemy. During this time the French empire was going through a series of wars, with England as their main enemy, and didn't have time to focus on anything else.
It was a rare chance that the two colonies would get to see their big brother. Anytime Francis would come for a visit, America and Matthew were quick to spend as much time with him as possible.
"I can't believe that! You actually went on to win against him again?" Matthew asked as he leaned forward on the floor pillow. He crossed his legs and leaned back a little smiling widely. "That's amazing!"
"Of course it's amazing. This is Brother Francis we're talking about here! I mean, he's the most powerful nation in Europe!" America laughed looking to his brother.
Francis shrugged a little as he sat back in the chair near the fireplace and shook his head. "Well it's not as if England had a chance against me anyways," he grinned, silently asking for praise from the two.
Matthew looked over Francis and frowned. He knew that he was badly wounded and there was no telling as to what scars were hiding under his clothes. He always worried about Francis and the fact that he was always hiding so much from them. Why exactly were all these wars going on and why did he, of all countries, have to be involved with every one of them?
America laughed and nodded as he leaned back, feeling the warmth of the fire as well. "So you, Antonio and Gilbert went up against the Austria-Hungarian Empire? That must have been exciting!"
"Exciting might not be the word I would use for it," Francis sighed resting his head against the back of the chair. "More like a hassle. Had England not shown his face, we would have won a lot quicker. Thankfully, I was able to call neutrality for the rest of the war once I drove England back to his island."
"What does that mean?" Matthew asked looking back at him with a small smile.
"A neutral power in a particular war is a sovereign state which declares itself to be neutral towards the belligerents. Meaning, since I finished what I had to do and had full confidence that my allies would win the war without my help, I more or less stepped out of the playing field," Francis explained.
America nodded. "Ah. That makes sense as to why you are back so soon," he teased and looked over to his brother.
Francis sighed. "Unfortunately, I won't be here for long. It seems tomorrow I have a meeting with my government again about something that's going on overseas."
Matthew shook his head. "I wish I could just keep you here, safe and protected."
Francis stood up slowly and stretched laughing a little. "Oh, you boys are so funny. But just remember this one thing if you don't remember anything else I tell you. In order to be successful in life you have to make sacrifices. And my choice is to stay out there and fight so that you two can have a better life."
"But who would dare try to mess with us?" America asked.
"No one now because of all the work I'm doing," he assured them. "But just so you know I am doing this all for your sake. Remember that."
Within days Francis was out on the seas again leaving the two boys to their own devices. All of this talk of war and adventures had been giving America crazy ideas, as Matthew would call them. He worried that it would cause a lot more trouble for not only Francis, but for the others as well.
"It feels like just yesterday that Brother Francis was here and it seems like nothing but plagues and famines have decided to spread throughout the world. One could only wonder if God has decided to give up on us as a whole," Matthew sighed and looked up to the night sky. Feeling the soft grass beneath him was a refreshing change from the hard wooden floors of the cabins.
"I've never heard you to be so pessimistic, Matt." America grinned and looked over to him as the starry night sky continued to shine down on them in the midst of the summer heat.
"I know. It's just with Antonio and Francis gone we've been all alone for quite some time now," Matthew said softly and closed his eyes. "I only hope that everything in Europe is okay."
America sat up and looked over to him a bit confused. "Europe? Why would you even stop to think that everything was alright there? I mean if that were the case then Francis would be here with us, would he not?"
"That may be true, but it's all the more reason for me to wish that everything would just come to an end already," Matthew sighed.
America looked back up to the sky and said nothing as he continued to think. The soft night breeze pushed his bangs out of his face.
"So," Matthew sighed after a bit of silence. It was better to change the subject than to argue with him. "Have you thought of a name for yourself? It is starting to get confusing when saying the land America and you, America," he teased
America shrugged a little. "I don't know. I definitely feel as if I should give myself a name to differentiate myself not only from my land, but from Makawee's people as well."
Matthew looked over to him and raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"
"I've lived with them and been associated with them for quite some time now. It hadn't been until these new generations, who call themselves Colonists instead of Spanish or French, that I can really feel like...I don't know, a real country."
Matthew then looked back to the ground. "So...do you think that having an actual name will put you on a country level or something? But you aren't even big enough, I mean, you're still a colony."
America smirked. "Yes, but I think it will not only get everyone on this continent's attention, but everyone outside of it as well," he said, sitting up and dusting the grass off of himself.
"America...you aren't thinking..."
"I am," he grinned and stood up stretching. "It's about time that America broadened his horizons."
Matthew stood up and shook his head, holding out his hands. "Whoa, now wait a minute America. Please tell me you aren't thinking what I think you are."
America turned and looked to him with a grin. "I'm not thinking what you think I am," he laughed. "Besides how am I ever going to become a great ally and colony to Brother Francis if I just keep doing exactly as I am? It seems like right now I'm... we're nothing but consolation prizes to him. And what about my people? They need more room to grow and develop."
Matthew sighed and looked to the ground. "Look, I'm sure if you just first talk to Francis and Makawee they will gladly take your suggestion into consideration."
"I shouldn't have to suggest Matthew," he said sharply and began walking towards the cabin. "Like I said before, this land is mine and I shouldn't have to share it if I don't want to."
"But America-"
"But what? You don't have this problem! How could you understand?" America snapped and clenched his fists.
"I do understand. I'm a part of this continent as well America," Matthew said, feeling a bit hurt by his words. "Or have you forgotten about that?"
America watched him and looked away. "No I haven't. But I know that it is time for me to show that my people are capable of bigger and better things. Like I said Matt, you wouldn't understand. I mean you live in...practically a frozen wasteland most of the year."
Matthew looked to him, surprised that he would dare say that to him to his face. Just because he didn't have as much inhabitable space or even as much fruit-bearing land didn't make him less valuable...did it? "Fine, do what you want. I can't stop you anyways," he said as he turned and headed off in the other direction.
America watched him go off and shook his head. "I'm only telling the truth Matthew!" he called after him. "Don't blame me!" he said more to himself as he sighed and made his way back to the cabin.
~Summer New South Wales, Australia~
"It appears that America is still thinking of expanding its borders," Arthur said as he set the letter he had just received from Matthew down on the table. Sitting across from him was a small tanned boy with a short brown ponytail. "Interesting news we have here, Australia. I wonder how that will come into play with France just coming out of all of these debt inducing wars and Spain claiming the west coast."
Australia looked up at him and smiled. "America?" he asked looking up to Arthur and tilting his head a little. "Where is that?"
Arthur reached over and placed the map down in front of him pointing. "See here. This is where you are." he smiled and then stretched his arm over to the other side of the map. "And there is the North American continent."
Australia looked at the map wide eyed. "Whoa! That's a lot of land."
Arthur nodded. "Exactly. So it could be a problem if...well if he tries to take control of any of these territories that aren't his."
Australia nodded and looked over the map as he climbed up onto Arthur's knee. "The world sure is big. Do you think I will ever see all of it?"
Arthur looked down at him and smiled nodding. "I think it's possible; with a little determination and a boat."
Australia laughed and nodded. "Even to be as powerful as you are and conquer the world?"
Arthur chuckled, walking over to him and patted his head. He picked him up and set him down on the ground in front of him. "Honestly I think that anyone has the ability to conquer the world."
"Really?" Australia asked looking up at him. "Well then I should become strong before America has a chance to take me over!" he grinned jumping off of his lap and running off.
Arthur laughed and watched him. He then looked down at the ground, sighing, before looking back over to the table. He pulled out some ink and parchment paper.
To Matthew,
I can see that you are, indeed, in quite the predicament. However, I would suggest you do all you can to stop him. If he were to go against Native America for her land there is no telling what might happen if Francis or Antonio takes her side. Worse off, despite what he may believe, he doesn't have the man power to take on two or three territories by himself. I only hope that you side with him in the event something does happen. He will definitely need all the help he can get, trust me. It hurts to have an ally, much less your own brother, going up against you.
Arthur
He sighed and folded the paper nicely placing it in an envelope. He walked out of the building and handed the envelope to the messenger. "Deliver this to Canada. Make sure that Matthew gets it and no one else."
With that, the messenger ran off and Arthur was left there to look out onto the Pacific Ocean by himself. The salty smell of the ocean rubbing against the sand on the beach had a strange calming effect on him.
He then looked up at the sky and sighed. "I only hope that letter gets to him...before it's too late."
~Fall Border of the western Louisiana Country~
America made up his mind that he was going to go talk to Makawee about extending his portion of the land. He knew that she was a very compromising woman; Francis had convinced her to sign a pact with him all those years ago after all.
Although the warning words Matthew spoke to him rang in the back of his mind, he ignored them as he made his way further into the mid-western territory. The wide grassy fields were slowly being covered by the red, orange and yellow colored leaves that were falling from the trees. He took in a deep breath as he looked around carefully and approached the entrance to the village that sat on the border. The many teepees were gathered together and a large stream ran through the center of the main road. He walked into the town and shoved his hands into his pockets. Many of the natives watched him as he strolled by.
"Does anyone know where I can find Makawee?" he said loudly asking the crowd in general.
He did a full spin and looked at each and every one of the natives. None of them looked as if they had any interest in telling him where she was. "Fine," he said to himself. "I guess I will just have to go and find her myself."
Just then, a small girl came from out of the crowd and began walking towards him. An older woman, with a worried look on her face, grabbed at her, but missed her arm. She called something to the girl in a language that America couldn't understand. America looked to the girl and raised an eyebrow bending down to her eye level. She had short, dirty brown hair and dull gray eyes. She appeared to be no older than ten years old and wore a long, decorated brown cotton-like one piece. Her bandaged hand slowly lifted up to point to the large hut in the middle of the village.
He turned around to look at it and then back at the girl. "Makawee is in there?" he asked pointing behind him.
The girl looked up at him and continued to point. He didn't know if she couldn't understand him or if she just didn't want to talk to him. Either way, he had figured out where Makawee was and that's all he needed to know. He nodded and bowed his head to the girl before walking off towards the large hut.
Behind him he could hear the natives going back to moving while the young girl was being scolded by the older woman from before. America looked up at the tall teepee and cleared his throat raising his hand to knock until he realized the door was just a cloth draping. "Makawee! I have come to discuss something with you! Will you see me?"
There was silence for quite some time before the cloth was pushed aside. Makawee stood before him with an unpleasant look on her face. Her rich brown eyes narrowed as the light from the sun filled the dim room behind her. Her long, gray flecked hair was down and covered her chest down to her waist.
"I see that this isn't a good time for you to talk." America smirked a little.
"Did you come to see me for a reason, America? Or did you just want to talk over a meal?" she asked stepping aside to let him in.
He walked into the teepee and sighed laughing a bit. "I did come here for a reason, but I honestly do not wish to disturb you if this truly is a bad time for you to talk."
She shook her head and walked over to the floor table, sitting down on one of the pillows. "Well I invited you in did I not?" She grinned. "So, what is it that you wish to talk to me about?"
America sighed and took a seat on one of the pillows, folding his legs as he looked over to her seriously. "I've come here on behalf of my people to ask you to kindly move further west."
Makawee looked to him and blinked placing her hands in her lap. "Because?"
"We need more space. My people are growing at an incredible pace, and with all of the advancements we are making due to opening our own overseas trade...we need to expand," he explained. "So I need for you to tell your people to move further west."
She watched him carefully as he explained as a small frown came to her face. "I was expecting this to come up soon."
He looked to her curiously. "What do you mean by that?"
"Ever since you were younger, you had that independent factor about you. Something that I knew would come into effect once you figured out what was really going on outside of the walls that Francis had set up around the continent." She looked up at him still frowning.
"Are you saying that my wanting this is bad?" he asked leaning closer to her over the table.
She didn't back down to him and shook her head. "What I'm saying is that your way of going about getting the things you want, America…," she sighed and looked away. "…will get you in more trouble than you can get yourself out of."
"Is that so?" he asked, standing up swiftly. "Well what makes you so sure that I'm going to get in trouble? Are you saying that you won't give me more land?"
"I'm saying, America, that it's not just my land to give," she spoke simply.
"And what do you propose? We have a continental meeting about this?" he asked angrily.
Makawee stood up and stared up at him. "As opposed to what America?"
America looked down at her and grinned as he watched her raise an eyebrow to his reaction. "Never mind," he smiled turning around to walk out of the teepee. "If you think I should take it up with someone else then I will. After all, as you said, it isn't your land to give."
She reached out and grabbed his wrist tightly and growled under her breath. "I hope you realize that if you try to go against me then you will be alone."
He turned around and leaned closer to her face still smiling. "Is that a threat, Native America?"
Her eyes widened as she took a step back from him, her grip loosening on his wrist. "What...what happened to you? You never used to be this way towards me."
"I grew up," he said simply. "I realized that I wasn't just content with living cozy on this continent and pretending that everything out there had nothing to do with me."
"Because it didn't! You're a new nation, America! Why would you want to risk your people by putting yourself out there like that? You aren't ready and yet you..." She stopped and looked to the ground.
"A wise man once told me that in order to gain great power, sacrifices must be made," America said, taking a step back from her. "However, I know that the colonies of America are ready to expand and to do so we have to move west!"
Makawee continued to stare at the floor and shook her head slowly. She didn't know what to say to him. To her, being a larger nation or colony and showing off your power or goods to other countries was nothing more but an invitation for invasion.
And that was exactly what her people had run away from; leaders greedily seeking nothing but world domination. She didn't want America to become that way, but by the looks of it, the sweet innocent boy she knew all these years was lost in the corruption of this new generation.
"I don't know what to say to you, America, but I will not just step aside and let you take over what my people have worked so hard to obtain," she said firmly.
"Even the mightiest of trees topple over with time Makawee," America said as he then turned swiftly and walked out of the teepee. He couldn't believe that she was actually telling him to just lie down and deal with the cards that fate had dealt him.
Never. If anything, he would convince someone to side with him on this as he was not going to let his people down.
~Border of Mexico~
The further south he went the hotter the air became. America stumbled through the deserted wastelands in hopes of coming to the nearest town soon. He wasn't fluent in Spanish but he knew enough to help get him around in this barren territory. He reached for his canteen and took a sip as he leaned against a large rock towering over a cactus.
The sun blazed over him as there wasn't a cloud to be found in the sky to protect him from the deadly heat waves. It wasn't until he walked a few more miles that he came to a small town set up at the base of a stream. There were only eight or nine buildings at most lined up on either side of the road and a large cement fountain was sitting in the middle of the intersection.
He made his way over to the fountain and sat down on the edge of the base as the mist from the cool water sprinkled against his boiling skin. The town was unusually quiet; only three or four people were walking around at a time from building to building. He had figured that everyone was inside due to the heat or this was a new town that not many people, or tourist, knew about yet.
A familiar voice came from his left side as he turned to look for the person in which the voice belonged. Two men were walking side by side looking down at a long piece of paper. One was a Spanish solider, the other was his target.
"I've found you Antonio," America grinned as he walked over to him.
Antonio turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow. He looked extremely tired and beat up as his clothes were torn and his face was dirty. His dark hair was a mess and he slouched over a bit from the hidden scar that dug into his back.
"America," he said softly and ran his hand through his hair. "I never expected you to come all the way down here."
"Well I've come a long way in hopes that you would have time to talk to me," America said softly. "Will you grant me my wish?"
Antonio laughed a little and nodded patting him on the shoulder. "But of course," he said as he motioned for him to follow him. "Come on in here."
America followed him into the small building and leaned against the wall as Antonio ordered the men inside to leave them alone to talk. Once they were alone he turned around and faced him with a weak smile. "So, how may I help you?"
"What happened to you?" America asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.
"Surely you didn't come here to laugh at my battle scars." Antonio grinned and sat down in a chair.
"Not necessarily. But since you are technically an ally of mine, and sharing my continent, I would like to know what exactly is going on around here."
Antonio chuckled and shrugged his shoulders. "Have a seat. It seems we have much to talk about then."
"Finally, someone who will actually listen to me with reason," America sighed in relief as he walked over to the table and took a seat.
"What do you mean by that?" Antonio asked.
America rolled his eyes a bit and folded his arms on top of the table. "Well, I met with Makawee recently and asked her if she could do me a favor. And even after making a very convincing argument, she still wouldn't listen to me. Why is it that just because my people and I are younger than the rest of you, you think that everything I say is just ridiculous?"
Antonio raised his hand. "Wait a second. I never said anything about that. Now go back a little. What exactly did you ask her that she so bluntly refused?"
"I asked her if she could move further west so that my people could expand their territories," he replied simply.
Antonio then looked him over and took a deep breath. "That is a problem."
"What? Why?" America asked.
"Because, if she did move further west, she would either be going into uncharted land or into my newly developed land," he explained.
"Your land? What do you mean? I thought you were only controlling the land to the south?"
Antonio shrugged. "I've decided to expand," he said quietly.
America slammed his hands onto the table and glared over at him. "What? How is it okay for you to expand and yet I have to just deal with my situation?"
"America, listen to what I'm saying. Where I have decided to move to is where land has not been claimed by anyone. And yet you are requesting for someone who has been here long before you came to just move over to make room for your people."
"It's the least she can do! My people keep her protected from so many things! Not only that, but if it weren't for me she wouldn't have half the things she has due to the trades I've agreed to!" he argued.
"And I'm sure she's very grateful for that, America. But for you to just decide something like that," Antonio started.
"I'm not just deciding! I asked," he pressed. "I asked...and yet every time I do ask I never get what I want."
Antonio looked at him and shook his head. "Well then have you ever considered asking Matthew about letting you move up north?"
America narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "That land is Canada. There is no way that I can change the border separation now."
"Then how about Francis? The Louisiana Country is technically your land right? So why don't you ask him if you can just take it over? After all, he's been so busy fighting right now I highly doubt he has time to keep up with this land."
America looked away and sat back down slowly. "I doubt he would. He's more focused on showing the world his power, and having such a large piece of land on the North American continent is the best way to prove to everyone just how resourceful he is."
Antonio smiled. "But like you said it is your land," he said standing up slowly, seeing the solider at the door. "Look, if the results don't go the way that you want them to go, then I will consider giving you La Florida to call your own."
America looked up to him a bit surprised. "You...you will?"
Antonio chuckled. "I can see it in your eyes, America, that one day you will be something great. And if I stay your ally, then maybe I will have nothing to worry about in the future."
America laughed. "I see. You're only saying that because you have only just now figured out how bad it is to go up against neighboring countries that are more powerful than you. Like Brother Francis."
Antonio walked over to the door and grabbed the door handle, opening it slowly. "I wouldn't say that exactly, seeing as if Francis and I already have an alliance, but I only hope that you or Matthew never make the same mistakes that I did."
America looked down at the table and lifted himself out of the chair. "I will take my leave now."
Antonio moved aside as the soldiers began to file in. "Leaving so soon?"
"Well, you seem as if you are busy and I don't want to intrude. Besides like you said, there is one more person I need to talk to before I can claim La Florida as my land," he said with confidence.
"And what exactly do you think you can say to convince Francis to give up some, if any, of his land," Antonio asked as he looked over to him interested.
"It's big brother France," he said as he stepped off of the steps. "How hard can it be?"
~Montreal, Canada~
The soft repeated knock at the door irritated Matthew's ears as he swung his legs over the bed. He opened his eyes slowly and rubbed them before making his way over to the front door in the dimly lit hall. He reached for the door knob and raised an eyebrow as he saw who was on the other side of the door.
"America?" he asked as he took a step back. The rain that was pouring from the night sky was splashing onto his bare chest.
"Save the greetings for later, Matt," America chattered through his teeth and looked behind him. "Can I come in?"
Matthew stepped aside and nodded as he let a small yawn escape his lips before closing the door behind him. "I thought you weren't talking to me," he said as he ran his hand through his bed head and placed his other hand on his bare hips above his underwear.
America looked through his wet bangs at him and slid his shoes off. "Clearly that has been revoked," he said as he bent over to take his socks off.
"Clearly," Matthew said as he watched him and leaned against the side of the stair case.
"You wouldn't happen to have a change of clothes I can borrow until mine dries now will you?" America asked softly.
Matthew grinned and shrugged his shoulders. "I suppose I could spare something for you."
America pulled the soaked shirt over his head and let it fall onto the floor next to his shoes. "You're too generous Matt, really," he said sarcastically and looked over to him as he began unbuttoning his pants.
"Right," Matthew said as he looked away and began climbing the stairs. "The least you can do is wipe up all that water you tracked into my house," he commented back.
America laughed under his breath and nodded. "Oh, I'll wipe it up alright."
Matthew looked back at him just as America was dropping his wet pants. He shook his head and continued up the stairs towards his bedroom. He opened the drawers and ran his hands over the soft cotton. He could have guessed the reason why America had came here, and to be perfectly honest, he didn't know what to say to him.
America looked down at the wet clothes on the ground and placed his hands on his bare hips. A droplet of water ran down his toned abs and stopped at the tip of his thumb. "Alright," he said to himself and bent over picking up the clothes. "Let's do this." He smiled walking into the kitchen. He looked up to the ceiling, hearing Matthew's footsteps on the second floor. A grin came to his face as he laid the clothes on the counter and grabbed a towel.
Matthew grabbed the dry clothes and walked slowly down the stairs. He stopped on the second to last step looking over the railing with wide eyes.
America was naked and on his knees wiping up the trail of water from the kitchen to the door. He looked up at Matthew through his barely dry hair, his blue eyes sparklingly with excitement. "Looks good to you?" he asked.
Matthew looked away quickly, a slight blush coming to his face. "You still find any excuse to get naked don't you?" he asked holding the clothes out to him.
America stood up slowly and walked closer to him. "You're one to talk. You're only wearing your underwear," he teased.
"That may be true, but I was sleeping in my bed so I think I have a right," he said, still not looking at him.
America moved even closer to him and laughed softly. "Come now, we are brothers are we not?"
Matthew shoved the clothes into his chest and walked around him towards the kitchen. "That doesn't mean I enjoy looking at you."
America turned his head and smiled walking after him. "Well excuse me for intruding on your peaceful slumber."
Matthew began hanging a line up in front of the window and pinned the drying clothes over a bucket. "You came here for a reason, no?"
"Straight to the point as usual," he sighed and leaned against the counter. "To answer your question, yes. There is something I came here to discuss."
Matthew finished hanging the rest of the clothes and moved to get a kettle out of the cabinet. Starting a small fire to warm it up with he turned to look at his brother. "With me?"
America grabbed the underwear out of the dry clothes pile and slipped them on. "Not necessarily, but I won't prevent you from listening in on the conversation."
"I had a feeling you came here looking for Francis," Matthew said softly and poured a bit of milk into the warming kettle. "I'm sorry to disappoint you but he's not here."
"Oh, but I know he will be soon. He always comes to see you first," America scoffed.
"Yes," he said as he carefully turned the kettle around. "This isn't about what we talked about at our last meeting is it?"
"Depends on what you mean," America shrugged leaning against the counter, feeling the warmth of the fire on his bare skin. "We talked about a lot of things during our last meeting."
"I mean about your brilliant idea to expand your borders," he said sarcastically.
America grinned and nodded moving closer to the fire. "Nothing gets past you Matt."
"Well what other reason would you have to travel all the way up here in this weather?" he asked looking back to the fire smugly.
"Are you saying that I'm so heartless that I wouldn't come up here just to see my own brother?" America asked wrapping his arm around Matthew's shoulder.
Matthew grabbed a pair of mittens and took the kettle from the fire. "No. Not at all, though you already admitted that I am not the person you came here to talk to." He smiled, moving to get two cups out. "So that makes me right. Oui?" he asked cutely.
America poured his own cup of warm milk and sat down on the stool by the fire. "I suppose. But I'm not a bad guy, right?"
Just then, lightening flashed outside of the window causing Matthew to jump slightly. "N-no. I guess not," he stuttered taking his cup shakily.
America stood up and grabbed the piled of clothes on the counter. "Fine, well then I suppose I will leave you be. You look like you need to be going back to sleep anyways."
Matthew watched him and nodded slowly. "Yes, you're right. I should be getting to sleep and so should you so... goodnight."
America waved over his shoulder as he walked towards the stairs sleepily.
Matthew stood up and finished off the rest of the milk before putting the fire out. He sighed and made his way through the dark, familiar hallway before climbing the stairs.
He walked into his bedroom and looked to the bed. America was lying face down with his arms and legs spread out over the entire space. Matthew walked over to him and shook his head, laughing a little. He pulled the covers over his brother and took a step back. He looked so harmless when his eyes were closed and his mouth was shut. Matthew couldn't help but watch him a little longer. The sound of his soft breathing mixed with the tapping of the rain on the window was surprisingly soothing.
He shook his head again and walked out of the room quietly. He then made his way into the next room and laid down under a blanket. "Brother, I only hope that...that everything works out in the end," he said to himself before drifting off to sleep.
The next morning came quickly and the chirping of the birds outside of the window woke Matthew up from his deep sleep. He stretched his arms and legs before sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
The smell of burnt maple sugar filled his nostrils as he jumped out of the bed and wobbly ran down the stairs remembering he had company. "America! America where are..."
Before he could finish his sentence he ran into the wall and fell backwards onto his butt. When he regained his composure he realized it wasn't a wall, but a person.
"Matthew, you're awake," Francis said softly as he turned around and looked down at the blonde boy. His face and legs had bandages on them and his blue eyes seemed to have lost their sparkle.
"Brother France! What are you doing here and-" He paused and looked him up and down. "What happened to you?"
Francis laughed and placed his hands on his hips. "I could ask you the same thing. It's not like you to walk around in the nude."
Matthew looked down at himself and blushed. "I'm not nude and I live here so..."
America walked into the hall fully clothed and raised an eyebrow. "I'm right here, and before you ask yes, I did burn some of the syrup."
Matthew was trying to collect his thoughts but it wasn't coming fast enough. He stood up and walked back up the stairs slowly. "I'm going to get dressed," he said softly.
Francis nodded. "I guess that makes me in charge of breakfast then."
America looked to Francis and sighed. "May I talk to you?" he asked once Matthew was well away from the stairs.
Francis nodded and made his way to the kitchen. "Is something bothering you?"
"Why would you ask that?" America questioned.
"You came all the way up here to meet me," Francis replied simply as he wrapped a long apron around his waist. "It's unlike you, and I highly doubt you were missing me so much that you had to see me as soon as I got back."
"No," America said sharply. "I just needed to talk to you about these neighbors of ours."
Francis had been begun preparing ingredients when he suddenly stopped as he heard those words. "I don't like the way you said that, it worries me. Has-has something happened?"
America leaned against the counter and watched him carefully. "No, not really. I went and spoke with Makawee and Antonio, but I didn't get the answer I was hoping for. So I am hoping you won't be the same."
Francis looked up from the steel pan and raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you want to talk country to country then state your business."
America let out a small sigh and pushed himself off the counter. "I want to expand my borders. My people are growing at an amazing pace, and with all of the money we've been getting from the trades we finally have enough to build a few more towns. The only problem is we don't have the space."
"And how do I come into this?" Francis asked as he put more logs into the fire.
"Makawee told me that she couldn't do me the favor of moving further west because it wasn't her land to move into. So I went to talk to Antonio about it since he not only has control of the southern portion of the continent, but he also has taken over the west. He told me that I should talk to you about taking over the Louisiana Country," he explained.
Francis looked up at him from the hot pan and raised an eyebrow. "He suggested that?"
America nodded. "Well, it shouldn't be a surprise. I mean after all it is my land that I was lending to you correct? Besides if I take that and La Florida into my possession then I will have more than enough space."
Francis continued to cook and stared into the fire. "I see," he said softly and shook his head. "What makes you think that you can take La Florida into your possession?"
"Antonio said that I could have it. Regardless of what you say, though, I hope you will see that what I am asking for is not too much," America said smoothly.
"Well I must say I am definitely impressed that you went and actually talked to them yourself," Francis grinned.
"You act as if I can't do anything," he challenged as he took a step closer to him.
Francis continued setting up the food and rolled his eyes, growing irritated. "Don't try me right now, America. After all, I was the one who got you to the place you are now."
Matthew then walked into the kitchen, now also fully clothed, and looked between the two nervously. He could feel the tension in the air and he wanted to ease it as soon as possible. "Food smells great!" he smiled and walked over to the pan, poking it with a knife to release some of the steam.
America ignored Matthew and laughed a little. "And that's supposed to mean something to me? Whether you helped or not doesn't mean you can permanently claim so much of my land."
Francis moved Matthew aside and walked over to America standing right in front of him. "Well you tell me then what your brilliant plan is."
America stared him straight in the eyes and smiled. He placed his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth on his heels. "Exactly what I just told you before. I'm going to claim that land as mine."
"America, stop it," Matthew said as he turned to face the two. "You can't just take that land without permission."
America looked over to him and frowned. "Oh? And why can't I?"
Matthew placed both of his hands on the counter and sighed. "Because you signed a treaty, remember?"
"Treaty? What treaty?" America asked confused.
Francis nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. "Come now America it hasn't been that long has it? Remember the little document stating that no country between the five of us will negatively interfere with another ones territory? After all you're still my colony."
America gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. "You can't expect me to think that this is fair."
"You signed the paper, America, so obviously you thought it was." Francis grinned.
"I was a child then! How was I supposed to know then that the little corner of the continent wasn't going to be enough?" he protested.
"You're out voted, America," Francis said smugly. "Just give it up."
America grabbed Francis by the shirt collar and slammed him against the wall. "You think I can just go back to my people empty handed and tell them no?"
Francis kept his cool and shrugged his shoulders. "Like I said, sacrifices have to be made."
America looked him angrily in the eyes briefly before pushing him away. He quickly exited the room and ran towards the front hall.
"America!" Matthew yelled and began running after him, but Francis grabbed his wrist.
"No Matthew, let him go."
"But what if he does something? We have to stop him!" Matthew cried.
Francis kept hold of him and shook his head. "No. He needs to learn that he can't always get his way. Even if that means learning the hard way."
~1752 Charleston, South Carolina~
The American people grew more and more restless as each day passed. America stood before them in the middle of the city and held out his hands to the angry crowd. "My people! I feel your pain and frustration. What the other inhabitants of this continent fail to realize is just how powerful we have become!"
"Then let's show them just how serious we are," a man in the crown yelled up at him.
"Yeah! Why do we have to keep slaving away while they reap the benefits of all we do for them?" a woman protested.
"It will only be a little bit longer," America assured them.
"How much longer?" another man asked. "We should just rebel! Stop the trades! Destroy their properties and make them come to us!"
"Yeah! For how long have we just gone along with their plans and doeverything we were told like children listening to their parents?" another woman yelled. "We've giving them more profit than they deserve and more goods for less value! Before we know it they'll come here taking over our land too!"
"She's right! If we don't speak our demands louder who knows what might happen? We are surrounded by them with nothing but the sea at our backs!" the first man nodded.
"And if we just continue to let them push us around we could disappear completely without a trace!" the second man added.
America closed his eyes and held his head. All of the anger, the frustration, and the pain were overtaking him over faster than he could bear. His thoughts were not his own anymore, but the words of his spiteful people. Images of burning buildings and injured countrymen slowly filled his mind.
"Let us go! We've held back for long enough!" the first man raised his fist.
The crowd then went into a frantic frenzy; throwing out suggestions of all the damage they could do to the French, Spanish and Native Americans to get them to surrender the land.
America opened his eyes and lowered his hands. "My people!" his voice boomed over the rustling crowd, quickly getting their attention. "If you want to do this then we must do it properly. We must have a plan…"
"And do you have one, sir?" the second man asked looking up to America.
"I do." He grinned. "After all I know the layout of this land better than anyone else. I will show you where to go."
~ Border of the western Louisiana Country~
A meeting was called between the resident nations of the North American continent to discuss the behavior of the "American" citizens. Signs and printed papers were being posted all over demanding to let them have the land that is rightfully theirs. Buildings have been destroyed or vandalized, properties burned to the ground, and trade goods stolen.
"This has gone on far enough," Francis said as he stood up in front of the other three nations. His eyes were serious and there wasn't a trace of happiness on his face. He was already in the middle of another war; he didn't need this right now. He let out a small sigh and turned his backs to them, placing his hands behind his back.
"Even if we say something to him there is no guarantee that he will listen," Makawee sighed as she ran her hand through her hair. Her eyes were duller and her body looked fragile. If this abuse on her land continued, she didn't know how much longer she would last.
"Well then we have to make him listen," Antonio said as he crossed his legs and adjusted himself in the chair. He was still wrapped up in bandages from his last battle and with his people living in La Florida getting anxious, so was he.
"Have you guys ever stopped to think that maybe compromising with him is the best way to go?" Matthew chimed in softly. He sat up straight in the chair and looked between the three.
Francis laughed and looked over to Matthew shaking his head. "Compromising? At this stage in the game he will take all or nothing."
Matthew sighed. "How do you know? You all haven't talked to him in how long? And maybe all he wants is-is for someone to listen."
Antonio laughed a little and shook his head. "You have way too much optimism Matthew. And for that I must say I envy you. However, realistically speaking, he won't stop until he gets what he wants. I could see it in his eyes the last time we met. He means business."
"That scares me," Makawee said softly and rested her head in her hands.
"Don't show any fear towards him. That's exactly what he wants. To feel as if he can control us just by throwing a little temper tantrum," Francis growled.
"And what do you propose we do?" Matthew asked hoping that he wasn't going to give him the answer that he was thinking in the back of his own mind.
"Teach him a lesson," Francis said simply.
"You can't mean..." Makawee looked up at him concerned.
"Francis you know that isn't a good idea," Antonio interrupted. "There is no way his people would stand a chance in a battle, especially not against you or me."
"I refuse to fight him," Matthew said firmly.
"And what makes you say that so quickly Matthew?" Francis interrogated. "After all, I don't see you jumping at the opportunity to give him some of your land."
Matthew slouched down in his chair. "I don't have much land to begin with. Besides he already said that he doesn't want my land because it's already been labeled as Canada."
"I also refuse to fight him," Antonio said standing up.
Francis looked over to him surprised. "What?"
Antonio shook his head. "There is no way I'm going to go up against a child like him. There is no real gain for me to risk losing all of the hard work I've put into developing Mexico."
"So you're just going to walk away just like that?" Francis asked angrily.
"You're the French Empire," he replied, smirking. "You don't need my help now do you?"
"This isn't about needing your help! This about showing him that what he's doing is wrong and that he needs to be put in his place!" Francis retaliated. "I don't want to fight him, really I don't. But if he continues this behavior and if more deaths occur in my portion of the territories then I will have no choice but to take drastic measures."
"I don't agree with what he's doing, but the reasons he's doing for is something I cannot bluntly disagree with," Antonio explained. "Weren't we the same way at his age as well?"
Francis looked from Antonio to the floor. "Speak for yourself. I never said I would start anything. But I'm just telling you for the sake of your people, be prepared. Who knows where he might attack next."
Makawee stood up as well and held her head. "I can't take much more of this anymore. We have to put a stop to him or else I will," she said softly.
Matthew stood up slowly. "Let me talk to him. Maybe I can try and talk some sense into him. He seems to listen to me better than anyone else. If I can just get to him-"
Francis laughed. "Right. Just walk right into his territory and think that you can get more than three feet before being attacked."
Antonio walked over to the door of the one room cabin and shook his head. "I'm taking my leave no-" he stopped mid-sentence as the sight on the other side of the door surprised him.
America stood in the doorway with an emotionless face. He pushed past Antonio and looked around the room. "So, you decided to have a meeting without me."
Matthew scrabbled behind the chair and shook his head. "Brother no, I was just about to come and talk to you. What we want to say to you is-"
"Oh, I know exactly what's going on here. I've been listening outside long enough to know everything," America said not taking his eyes off of Francis.
Francis smirked and began walking over to him slowly. "Good. Then that saves me the breath of having to explain to you what it is you need to do."
"Cut the crap, Francis. There is nothing you can say to me to make me change my mind," America said firmly.
"Is that so?" Francis asked moving closer.
"My people have spoken and you still refuse to listen!" America snapped.
"My people have spoken as well," Francis said calmly. "And quite frankly, your actions are nothing more but cries for attention. You want something from me then take it up with me. Don't go after my people and destroy their things."
"Fine. If it's me you want then it's me you will get," America said stepping closer to him.
Francis was now face to face with him and didn't blink, watching his every move. "Is that a challenge America?"
"It is," he said simply. "Because until you give me what I wish for, consider us enemies."
Francis laughed. "Enemies? Are you starting something, little America?"
America stared into his eyes silently as the anger and determination from his people filled his eyes. "I am and I assure you France. I will take back what is rightfully mine."
(Thanks for reading! Look out for Part 3 titled Civil War soon! ^^
Also some footnotes about things historical names and places used in this chapter:
1) The Louisiana Country, also known as French Louisiana, was under French control from 1682-1763 and 1800-1803.
.org/wiki/Louisiana_%28New_France%29
2) La Florida, "Florida", is the oldest surviving European place-name in the United States. From 1513 onward, the land became known as La Florida, although after 1630 and throughout the 1700s it was called Tegesta (after the Teguesta tribe)
.org/wiki/Florida )
