Hetalia Axis Powers does NOT belong to me, all rights reserved.


December 24, 1763~

"Are you ready?"

"Oui."

"No, no, Matthew. Yes. Remember. English."

"Oh…yes, then."

I stood awkwardly by the ships edge, fingering the hems of my brown coat, as Arthur shouted orders to the other men on board. I was still not use to the smells and sounds of the busy ship, even after a six-week ride on it.

Two months have passed since I was taken away from Papa. Since I started my life under British rule. It was terrible at first. I was forced to take on books of writers such as Charles Wesley and Henry Fielding to teach me the significance of English literature. I was given work sheets and tutors to educate me in English. I was handed new of everything; clothing, bed, food. Oh, the food, I might say, was particularly dreadful. Nothing like the kind Papa and our chefs would make. Though my distain towards the whole idea of a new life is still often shown, I've managed to slip into a routine of studying and practicing the golden rule of silence, which, apparently, is quite favored by people.

"Out 'a me way, boy. Ye stand aside or ye stand under deck." A rough shove jostled me around. I warily looked over my shoulder at the hunched man who blustered by.

I sighed and glanced over at Arthur. He had made his way over to the bow of the ship. He stood tall and sturdy, like he did always when on his ship, his breath coming out in warm puffs of air. His eyes were sharper than usual. They flickered back and forth among the crew of men, frequently looking back out at the nearing town we sailed towards. He looked so anxious when he stared at the approaching land, like he would gladly jump in the water and start swimming if the ship didn't go any faster. No wonder. Only a few more yards separated him from the one thing he had been talking non-stop about since our departure; America.

"We're going to Boston." That was the only warning I was given before Arthur hurriedly packed up and threw me on the boat. I had never been to Boston—which I found to be part of America—let alone anywhere outside of Europe.

The ship lurched. A very loud and slightly slurred "Port ahead, Cap' an! Port ahead!" rang out among the other hurried sound.

"Right! Anchors down, men!" Arthur's voice echoed close to me and the bump of a hand on my shoulder followed. I looked up. Two wide green eyes flashed down at me then out to the town we were only feet away from. "Ready, Matthew?" I nodded and kept watching him. His chest slightly rose, held, then let out in a small breath. It looked as if he had been holding it all this time.

The next movements that came from the ship, the crew, the waves, were like a planned dance. Everything was joined in the end as the ropes in the men's hands flew to the tops of the docks. The back and forth rocking of the ship turned into a soft swaying as men from the town came out and tied the ropes to the dock's posts.

One of the men caught my eye and smiled, his pink cheeks stretching. I was slightly taken aback by such a simple action due to my lack of it from the people Arthur spent time with. Actually, all the men from the town appeared to be smiling. Bright, energized, their tanned faces dirtied but happy. So this is what America was like.

"Alright, Matthew, step lightly." Arthur's grip on my shoulder tightened and I was turned around. I was pushed on with Arthur's feet on my heels to a large wooden board slanted down from the side of the boat down to the dock's ledge. I cautiously stepped down it, not wanting to slip on the gathering snow, only for Arthur to pick me up from under my arms and set me down at the bottom. "Look after him." Arthur pointed at me and my bags then gestured for a man to come over. He did and fingered his ripped hat towards me.

"Hey there kid. My name's Davidson. Welcome to Boston," he smiled and patted my head tenderly, his strange accent clicking in my ears. I backed away out of habit and Davidson just laughed. "A little nervous, huh?" he asked, waving off a comment shouted from a man behind him. "I would be to. Ya know. Comin' here with Mister Kirkland. He's a piece of work, eh?" I looked up at him and then over, just missing Arthur's red coat as it disappeared in a crowd of men. "Ya did come with Mister Kirkland, right?" I nodded. Davidson laughed and sniffed. "That's 'em house over there. See?"

I blinked and looked over to where Davidson pointed to. In the back of all the crooked buildings close to the docks sat a large squared two-storied home, alone and cleared from the dirt of the town. It was white with a snow-covered black roof and a lawn that traveled down the hill it sat on. It was lovely. Most different from Arthur's bricked tower back in England.

"Well. You want me to bring your bags up there with ya?" Davidson asked.

I blinked and looked away from the building. "Um…" I stopped and tried to remember my English lessons. "Don't you—you think Arthur would like to take me?"

Davidson's eyes went back and forth before answering. "Nah. Ya fine. He's probably over out there at the stores."

I had no idea what he was talking about and I guess it registered on my face.

"Oh. The stores down by the break in the boardwalk—over there see—is where Alfred's always waits for Mister Kirkland when he gets back from his ship. He tends to stay there for a while so he wouldn't mind if I took ya up there." Davidson smiled with all-teeth and picked up my bags. "So ya want to go?"

"Oh." The name Alfred stuck in my head. Arthur never talked about the boy—and I was glad for it, because even if I'd never met him, I still hated him; deep inside I still hated everything that reminded me of that day—but all the help from Arthur's home and other acquaintances often spoke of him. A "Wonderful boy". A "Charming young man". Those are the comments that normally cycled through most conversations about him. Though in my mine, wonderful and charming never came up as a description. "A-Alright."

A hand was placed on the bend of my back as Davidson started to walk me though the crowd. We swerved and jump out of other people's way and finally broke out of the crowded area. We turned the corner of a very drab looking building and cut up to a jagged pair of wooden steps. Davidson moved slowly behind me, easing me up the crooked boards.

Once at the top, we met with a cleared stone road that lead out to a line of other buildings. Posts with horses tied to them stood on the right-hand side of the small street. Small groups of people stood huddled in front of the buildings. They all glanced up as Davidson walked us past them. I tried to shrink away behind Davidson's legs but he held me with a firm hand.

"Mornin' to ya all." Davidson smiled at the men and they lowered their heads with a nod and went back to talking with each other. I felt Davidson's hand slide into mine—immediately warming it from the cold—and I looked up at him. "No one will bother you if you're with me. I know everyone here."

I nodded and let Davidson lead me farther along the road. More people popped up as we walked on. Whenever anyone looked our way Davidson would squeeze my hand gently and any anxiousness I had lessened. We walked till we came to the end of the road, the brick in the ground turning into hard dirt. Davidson gestured me to the left and up small set of stairs that stopped at the bottom of the hill the house sat on. The pathway wound to the right and cut up in a slant that reached the house's front steps.

Davidson gave a slight sigh, his brown eyes closing, and pulled my bags up. I gave him a looked that asked if he needed me to take some of the bags, but he smiled and shook his head. "I got it. Better for me to sweat than you."

I let go of the other's hand and watched him start his trudge up the pathway, keeping behind a good distance as his long legs carried him quickly upwards. A few steps more and I was panting and running to keep up with the pace that was set.

Davidson reached the front steps before me and set my bags down with a cough. He turned back to me and smiled sympathetically as I heaved up the rest of the way, the snow offering little help to my climb. Davidson held out his hand for me to grab when I was almost to the top. I did and he pulled my feet through the snow and placed me in front of him.

"It's a steep climb, ain't it?" Davidson smiled down at me and patted my shoulder. He brushed at my hair and let me walk up the stairs in front of him. I waited for him to gather up my bags again and follow me. He did and stepped up the stair quickly, opening the door by reaching over my shoulder and pushing on its large smooth center.

The door swung open and a waft of comforting heat skimmed over my cheeks. I looked inside at the long wooden hallway that lead down to the back of the house.

A finger bumped my back. "Come on. Step in, Matthew," Davidson said, stepping closer to me causing my legs to walk me forward into the house.

It was large inside as it was out. High roofs with wood panels netted the ceiling in patterns. Paintings of the sea and of other houses hung along the walls. Small candleholders sat on the sides of a large front table that leaned on the right side of the front opening. A staircase sat next to the hallway, a closet set in to its side, while two entry ways came off its left and right sides.

"And here we are," Davidson said from behind me followed by the creaking sound of the front door closing. I stood still as he walked past me and sat my bags down next to the front table. He took off his hat and coat and draped them over the tall wooden coat hanger in the corner. He held out his hand to me, "Let me take your coat, Matthew. Gonna get hot in here once I light the fire."

I nodded and slid my arms out of my coat's sleeves. I handed it over to Davidson and returned the smile he gave. "Thank you."

He laughed. "Of course. Now how 'bout we get you settled then get some food in ya," he said. "Must be hungry after all you've went through today."

I smiled a little brighter, the thought of food filling my stomach making my body sigh. "Yes. That would be nice—"

"Hurry up Arthur! I made something really cool while you were gone. It took me a whole week to build it, but I waited till you came so we could paint it together!"

A much louder voice drowned out my own. Davidson and I turned in unison towards the front door as footsteps came from behind it. The door opened and a gust of wind carried in a small boy who joyously flew into the room. "Come on Arthur! Stop being so slow!" The boy called over his shoulder then looked out in front of him, locking his eyes on mine. "Hmm…?"

I felt my throat close up as the boy kept staring at me. He had shiny blonde hair and bangs that flipped to the right with a single strand that stood straight up. His tanned face was young and fresh, but held quite a resemblance to mine. A white short-sleeved shirt and large coat hung around his skinny shoulders, a pair of brown pants over his legs. His eyes though, were what stood out the most. Two large ice blue orbs that stared unblinkingly back at me.

"Dear Lord, boy. Maybe you should slow down." The boy finally looked away as Arthur's tired voice traveled from outside. Arthur's body came into view as he stepped through the door. His face looked tired but his eyes looked brighter then I've seen them before. He walked past the boy, patting him on the head almost fondly—though I was probably wrong, since Arthur could never feel fondly to anything—and joined us in what turned into an introduction, commenced by Davidson.

"Hello Mister Kirkland. Got 'im here safe as you can see," Davidson pointed to me. Arthur looked me up and down with an approving gleam in his eyes.

"Yes I see. Hello Matthew, how was your trip up here?" he asked, actual interest in his voice.

I opened my mouth to speak but found my words dissolving as the boy kept looking at me. "I-It was nice."

Arthur raised his eyebrows, slightly disappointed in my description. "Wonderful. Well I see you've met Alfred then."

I froze. "Alfred…?" I looked back over to the boy and blinked in confusion. He was Alfred? I had been expecting a harsh looking boy with the attitude of his horrible caretaker, but he didn't match any of those descriptions.

The blue-eyed boy smiled largely at the sound of his name, two rows of glistening teeth flashing at me. "Yup, that's me! And you must be Mattie! Arthur wrote that he was bringing you with him," he paused to take a few steps closer to me, "but he sent that letter back in November so I had to wait for like ever to see you! And now you're here so, come on lets go play!"

And just like that, 'Alfred' grabbed my hand and pulled me through the left doorway, laughing like we'd been friends forever.

I could vaguely hear Arthur sigh and Davidson laugh as Alfred and I rounded the corner into what must have been the library of the house. A wall with a window sat in between two filled with books, all three surrounding a writing table and two chairs. Its wooden floors were scattered with what looked to be small toy soldiers.

Alfred came to a stop, me almost colliding with the slightly shorter boy's back, and pulled me to the ground. He picked up two of the toy men and handed me one. "Arthur made these for me while the war was going on, after I had my injury," he smiled.

The war, I presumed, was the one that ripped me away from Papa, the injury, I had no idea. "I see…" I looked down at the toy in my hands. It looked like it took a lot of time to make it, precious time that I couldn't image Arthur wasting to make ten of these wooden figures.

Alfred smiled down at the toy he was holding then glanced at me. "Well anyway, I just wanted to tell you how happy I am to have a brother in the house to play with. I live here most of the time by myself since Arthur has to go to Europe like every other day or something," he paused and looked me straight in the eyes. "Sorry our first time meeting was a little rushed, but I pulled you I here so I could just relax without Arthur breathing down my back."

I blinked, surprised at what I was hearing, and watched Alfred flash another smile. "Let me start over. My name is Alfred F. Jones, and I'm really happy to meet you Mattie and I'm really happy that you came right before Christmas." He nodded and stood up on his knees, proceeding to lean over and give me a tight hug.

I gasped sharply as his arms squeezed mine before letting my hands come up to his shoulders. We sat there for a while, hugging each other. I felt my eyes begin to sting as the feeling of someone else's warmth engulfed me. I had not felt such comfort since the day I left Papa, his large hands now replaced with Alfred's smaller ones. I held back a cry and patted Alfred on the back lightly.

Finally, the other let go, his arms untangling them from my shoulders. He pulled back and smiled at me brightly, a smile that seemed to be with him all the time. "You can call me Al since I'm calling you Mattie, if you want."

The image of the boy named Alfred vanished in my mind to be replaced by a smiling, happy, energetic young boy who I would gladly be willing to call my brother. I could feel the hatred that had grown in me slowly start to dissolve as I cleared my throat and nodded my head, a small smile on my lips. "Of course Al, of course."