I DO NOT OWN HETALIA!

Prepare for crappy explanation of the English Turn...

Still rated T for Romano-mouth...

"And good ol' Louisiana sarcasm!" Quote by my best friend

Three days later, I awoke to some of France's crew yelling and cheering something in French. I didn't know what they were saying, but I have been taught some things, such as "Bonjour," "Comment alle-vous," and some numbers. France taught me everything I know, and gave me my "human name." It's Louis Bonnefoy. Louis "Louisiane" Bonnefoy. He named me after his king, or "boss" as he calls him. Me, I felt honored.

I heard the rush of people outside of our cabin, the one I have to share with France. What? I don't want to sleep in the prisoner's cells! Anyway, I heard more cheers from the crew, and that sparked my curiosity. I climbed out of the bed and crawled to the doorway of the cabin, peeking around the corner at the happy men.

"Nous être foyer! Nous être foyer!" they cheered on. I tried to think, but I didn't know what it meant. 'Damn it, French has to be so hard!' I thought. As I pondered the language through my head, I almost didn't notice the shadow that loomed over me, until I heard an unfamiliar voice.

"Well, it looked like France has a new pet!" it said, loaded with the British accent that France told me about. I looked up and, sure enough, a man with huge, and I mean huge, eyebrows stood in front of me. I looked up at him strangely, what the hell is he doing on this ship, anyway?

"So, you're the bushy 'browed weirdo that hallucinates all the time?" I asked, a funny look on my face. "I heard that you talk to something called a 'unicorn.'" By the look on his face, I must have hit a nerve. He stared at me with an evil glare in his eyes. I had to admit, it did kind of scare me. Kind of.

"I'll remember that comment for later, but for now you're coming with me," he growled, picking me up by the scruff of my nightdress. I gasped and let out a yell, kicking the air.

"Hey, what the hell?" I yelled, trying to fight my way out of his grasp. "Let me go! You can't man-handle me! Let me go, damn it!" He brought me close to his face and grinned menacingly. I went to punch him in the eye, but he caught my fist.

"You're my colony now, so you're coming with me whether you like it or no-" he said, but paused. I looked at his neck and saw a metal object, no, a cutlass pressing against his skin. I traced the length of it, and my eyes fell upon France, his face lit with pure anger.

"Bonsoir, Angleterre," he said, venom dripping from every word. England held a terrified look as the metal pressed more into his neck. He tried to stammer out a sentence.

"H-how did you find o-out I was here, F-Frog?" he said, voice quivering from the fear of getting his throat sliced open. I watched with anticipation on what he would do, smirking behind my hand.

France's look turned to disgust. "That's not important. What is, though, is why do you have my son in your grasp?" he said, full of hate. Wait, did he just…call me his son? I felt my chest warm up and my eyes water. 'I will not cry. I will not cry,' I thought, but the tears rebelled as they slid down my cheek. I don't think I've ever felt so…loved.

My thoughts scrambled as I felt England let go of my collar, making me fall to the floor with a hard thud and a muttered "ow." I sat up and rubbed my sore butt, then heard France speak again.

"That is my colony, and this is my ship, so I strongly suggest that you turn around and jump off before I have my crew attack you without mercy. Do you understand me, you filthy Englishman?" he said, his voice staying dangerously calm. I hid another smirk.

England wasted no time in turning and jumping off of the ship, swimming his way to his own that was hidden behind a large cliff. I watched, amused, as the ship turned around and headed north. 'Hmm…English Turn…I'll have to name a future port after that!' I thought. What? It's my port, so I'll name it what I want!

France sheathed the cutlass and walked over to me, scooping me up and cradling me against his chest like he normally does. It was a perfect time to get something off of my mind.

"Um…what does 'Nous être foyer' mean?" I asked, a bit embarrassed that I didn't know. France chuckled lightly at my lack of knowledge.

"Well, Louis," he started as he walked up onto the deck. "It means 'We're home.'" I looked out and expected more of the ocean, but to my surprise, I saw nothing but a port bustling with people. My eyes widened as I looked back up to France. He smiled back down at me before saying, "Welcome to the country of France, mon cher Louis."

I smiled back up to him, eyes bright with happiness. We were finally about to dock!

It took a while(four freakin' hours to be exact) to reach the city "Paris" from the port. France had told me all kinds of stuff that was there, like art places, fine restaurants, and all that good stuff. It's also the capital of the country and where his house is.

The cart stopped and the coachman opened the door for us. France payed and thanked him, lifting me out of the cart and setting me on the ground so I could walk. He grabbed my hand and we started to walk the streets. We walked for about fifteen minutes, the whole time he was singing about how "great" this place was. I sighed and rolled my eyes, but had to admit, this place was pretty nice.

We were almost to the house(more like mansion) that he had told me about, so close to where I could see it around the corner. But, of course, he pulled me the opposite way and into a shop, where I saw a woman, probably in her early forties, sewing a blue cloth.

"Bonsoir!" France said loudly, startling the woman from her work. She looked up, pushed some of her graying hair behind an ear, and smiled at him. I just stood behind France's leg, grasping his loose tights in a strongish grip. 'I guess they know each other...' I thought as they carried on a conversation in French.

I decided to look around the shop a bit, letting go of the fabric in my hand and wondering around, looking at the different colors and patterns. There were all kinds of tunics, tights, and coats in sizes for toddlers up to grown adults. I guessed that it was a men's store, since I saw no dresses, skirts, or women's clothes anywhere.

"Louis, come 'ere, please!" France called. I guess I roamed a little too far from him. I hurried back to his side, apologizing for wandering off. He chuckled and looked down at me, smiling.

"No need to apologize!" he said, waving his hand, as if to dismiss that thought. "Colette just needs to take your measurements." I'm getting clothes...from a men's store? Why- Oh yeah, he thinks I'm a boy. I held back a snicker at the thought.

Colette grimaced at the first glance of my filthiness,(being because there was no water without salt except for drinking water, so I couldn't clean up) but smiled anyway. She took my hand and led me to the back of the store, where she had me stand on something that looked like a pedestal. Turning to a drawer, she rummaged around in it until she brought out a long strip with numbers on it.

"Um...H-hold still," she said, clearly not knowing much English. I did as she said, letting her lift my arms up to where they were sticking out to the side, almost like a cross. She spread the strip along the length of my arms and around my chest, stomach, and neck, then moved downward to my hips and legs, measuring the the height and width of them. "Done."

"Merci," I responded with a failed accent. She laughed lightly at my attempt, and I blushed from embarrassment, covering my mouth with my hands.

"Come," she said, offering me her hand. I took it gently, seeing how it was covered in cuts and pricks that were probably from using sewing needles all day. She lead me back to the front, where I saw France examining a small, light purple tunic with a weird design on the front. It almost looked like a flower of some sorts. Then, I saw him turn to us and smile again.

"Louis, what do you think of this?" he asked, and turned so I could see the whole thing. I saw that the tunic had light green tights to go with it, and that the collar had a pale yellow color. But, the whole thing looked too small for me to fit in. I was also curious about the flower thing on the front.

"I like it, but, what is that on the front of it?" I asked, pointing to it. He looked all too happy to tell me.

"It's called a 'Fleur de lis'. It's very common, but it is a beautiful design," he responded, stroking it lightly with his thumb. I pondered the name in my head, trying to translate it. 'Fleur de lis... It's a...'

"Lily?" I asked out loud, hoping that I was correct. I was relieved when I saw him smile from ear to ear and nodding his head. 'Good, I actually got it right...' I thought. Then, I heard him start to talk to Colette again.

"Je vais prendre celui-ci," he said, handing her a small bag filled with some money. I heard her say her thanks as we left the store and started walking the streets again.

"It should be ready by next week. Until then, I'll have to lend you some of my old clothes," he said, taking my hand again. Oh, great! I'll be struttin' around in clothes in a fashion older than the seventeenth century! My favorite thing to do!

Ok...It's 2AM and I'm finally DONE WITH THIS CHAPTER!

Sorry, I need some desperate sleep. So, review on what I might need to fix, m'kay? M'kay.