Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. I am merely a fan who appreciates the ingenious glory of such masterful tomfoolery.

Warning: Strong Language

Chapter Two Characters:

-America/Alfred F. Jones

-Canada/Matthew Williams

Time Frame: World War I

-Never Your Hero-

Chapter II

"Is it freedom or just an illusion?"

[5 August, 1914]

"This isn't right, and you know it."

The man seated behind the large mahogany desk remained silent and stoic, his eyes never leaving the papers spread out before him, and his mind far from anything tangible at that moment. Violet colored eyes were grayer than he remembered, his blond hair still groomed and managed as always (safe for that curl), and his outfit was a pressed black suit that made him presentable for attending a funeral or, supposedly, a session with his prime minister. He looked weary and older than his twin remembered, but then again they hadn't seen each other in a long time. Relations had been tense since things in Europe began to heat up, and considering how attached his brother was with the powers across the Atlantic, the North American countries had been keen to avoid each other...especially the blue eyed one currently trying to contain his anger at the entire situation.

"Protest! Tell him no! Tell him and the rest of 'em that they can all kiss your ass and be done with it," Alfred continued, his voice rising in decimals as his restraint began to fade.

Matthew's eyes closed but beyond that he gave no reaction. "You and I both know that's not how this works."

"Bullshit!" Alfred shouted, rising from his chair in an instant and gripping the table between them. Considering the man's inhuman strength he could have easily destroyed the physical barrier between them, but he knew it wasn't the physical barrier he really needed to break. "If that bastard wants to go and declare war then let him, but don't let him drag you into it without a fight of your own. God, Matt, we both know you're stronger than that; now man up!"

The last of his words earned him a slight twitch in his twin's brow before the former finally looked up to meet his brother's enraged expression. However passionate and headstrong Alfred was Matthew knew it took more than righteous indignation and fury with his old father figure to make his brother act like this.

Alfred was afraid. Matthew saw it bright as day in the way his blue eyes wavered ever so slightly, in the small trails of sweat that ran down from his hairline and vanished into the collar of his starched shirt, the way his hands that gripped the table were shaking with each hard breath...

It's the reason Matthew didn't jump to his own feet and smack the man across the face.

"Alfred, Canada is a British Dominion…which means my country and I can govern ourselves, make our own decisions, and live in peace as we wish; this is all we have ever wanted," Matthew began, his voice still calm despite the thick tension coming off of the man before him. "However, in global matters like this, things are out of my hands. Regardless of my personal feelings on the matter, if Britain goes to war then I am bound to support the empire in every way possible." His last words trailed somewhat, his gaze lowering slightly as his thoughts upon reading Britain's declaration returned.

"Matthew..." Alfred growled, eyes narrowing as his hands griped the table even harder. "He didn't even consult you, not once, before he dove head first into this mess, and now you're just going to support him and be his cannon fodder? That's unacceptable."

Now the other nation's patience had reached its limit, and in a move that startled Alfred, Matthew stood from his chair and slammed his hands down on his side of the desk. Alfred stared at Matthew's clenched hands before looking up as his twin's hardened and angry expression.

"You don't think I know what this is? You don't think I know what his commanders intend to do once my troops are on the ground? Of the two of us, Alfred, I think we can both agree on who is the more politically and internationally inclined one," The blond began with a harsh tone as he continued to voice his frustrations. "I've kept my relationship with Britain because, unlike you, I know how to politically negotiate the freedoms both I and my people need without resorting to full scale war. The majority of my people support Britain and the Allies because we are loyal subjects and know that we are as honor bound to defend our sovereign nation as we are bound by being a dominion. That you find this 'unacceptable' means nothing."

Silence stretched between them, their stares locked, before Alfred's eyes narrowed and the shock of Matthew's outburst dissipated. "What kind of freedom is it when you don't even have a say in the wars you're in?"

Matthew stared back at Alfred and had to suppress his urge to sigh. Of course Alfred would latch on to one concept and one concept only in his entire argument: freedom. Since he could remember Alfred had always been a spirited child who could never tolerate sitting still or being confined, as an adult he was much the same. Freedom, independence, nationalism, and pride...there wasn't much else Alfred needed to survive, but threaten even one of these things and no man or nation would ever see a more tenacious and frightening opponent. Matthew foresaw these attributes to be Alfred's down fall someday...all that pride and power, and none of the containment.

The Canadian suddenly felt tired and finally let his sigh escape. He knew all of this anger directed at him was really Alfred's fear that in his brother entering the war he would be next. The lower half of the North American continent had just come off a string of conflicts, one right after the other; and he wasn't surprised that Alfred wanted nothing to do with the war in Europe. It wasn't that Canada, his own nation, hadn't been dealing with its own problems in recent years, but that didn't mean Matthew didn't keep an eye one his brother from time to time.

Alfred had finally achieved conquering all of the south and south-west; he had fought Mexico for the rights to territories that nearly doubled his country's size, and then fought the Spanish Empire for the rights to its colonies in the Caribbean and the Pacific. Also during that time there had been a massive civil war...Alfred almost hadn't survived it, and while his nation continued to recover physically, Matthew knew Alfred had barely recovered mentally.

"Alfred..." Matthew began again and lowered his head, as he brought his left thumb and index finger up to rub his temples. He hadn't slept since Britain's message had arrived, and he was due shortly with Sir Robert Borden to discuss the formal pledge of support to Britain...but Alfred had arrived before he had so much as a chance for breakfast – not that he was very hungry anyway.

At the change in his twin's appearance, Alfred's expression softened and the pain and fear was a little more pronounced. In truth, his own boss didn't even know he had rushed up to Canada to speak with his brother...his president would probably not have been very happy with him for it either. But the American just couldn't sleep or do much of anything after the news reached him a few days ago. The realization that this really was coming down to something beyond Europe had him unable to remain in one position for any period of time. He had known about the tensions there for years and not really cared too much about it. His country still traded with Europe and its colonies – heck, their economies were more tied together than they had been since his days as British America – but as the majority of his people had considered it a "European problem" he too had dismissed it as such. Regardless...it didn't do much to extinguish the fear and keep him from looking over the ocean and thinking about what would happen if the war were brought home.

When the realization that war was really breaking out and a nation on his continent was going, his own brother no less, a lump of ice began to corrode his stomach...it was still at it even now.

If Canada ended up in this war, how long would it be before he was drug into it too?

"Matt...please...there has to be something you can do? Look, if you don't want to be involved in Europe's affairs then I'll talk to my boss and we can find a way to – "

"Alfred!" Matthew suddenly shouted, loathing to cut off his brother's desperate and hopeless optimism but he couldn't take it any longer. Their eyes met again and Matthew had regained his hard composure; Alfred, however, had winced and looked almost pleading. "Personal wants and diplomatic responsibilities rarely coincide. Do I want to go to war? No, I don't. Am I happy about this? It goes without saying that I'd rather burn that declaration rather than sign it. However, Britain has enough problems in Europe to worry about without me adding a fruitless fight for independence on top of it. I know where my loyalties and my obligations lie and that's final."

Alfred seemed to cringe at that and tried to counter with an angry retort, but his previous vigor and energy seemed to be failing him. Right now he felt like he was losing a brother he'd been taking for granted, to his former father over some war that didn't really involve either of them. He felt the sentiments of his own people who had furiously given up their own loved ones to causes they didn't believe in...he felt like a murderer every time one of his own people cursed him because someone they loved died in a conflict. Right now...he felt like Britain was a goddamn monster for going to war with practically all of Europe and then demanding Canada's cooperation without so much as a word. What gave him the right to go beyond his own boarders and haul Matt off to war like he was some chess piece on his checker board view of the world? It infuriated him. It enraged him. It made him even more grateful that he had fought for and won his independence from the empire. It was so frustrating that Matthew didn't seem to share his rage to the same extent...even worse was how Matthew actually seemed to care about the events in Europe, especially about Britain.

Alfred didn't want to believe this was the end of the discussion, he didn't want to think that there was nothing else he could do, but it was beginning to look that way. He hadn't come here with a plan by any means, he just wanted to talk to Matthew and hope his twin had a plan and it somehow involved his brother helping to keep him out of the war. He wanted Matthew to want his help...to need it and tell him what he could do to stop him from going to Europe. It was as unrealistic as it was childish of him, he knew that, but it still didn't stop him from trying.

It didn't matter that neither one of their bosses would ever condone interference or 'help' of any kind from the other, but Alfred sometimes wished he could set the nation half aside and just be Alfred. He wondered if Matthew ever wished for the same thing.

Matthew seemed to recognize his brother's inner struggle and his grip on the desk lessened, as his other hand slowly trailing over the paperwork on his desk. He was needed at the meeting with the prime minister, he didn't need the soft knock at the door to tell him that, but looking up at his brother tore him between wanting to stay and make things right with Alfred and his fulfilling his duty.

As usual, duty won out; it especially had to now after his big speech about national responsibility.

"Alfred – "

"Is there really nothing I can say to convince you not to do this?"

Matthew's eyes closed and he took a moment before shaking his head. He looked back up at Alfred and was met with a...resigned expression. Such a face did not suit his brother, it made him look too much like him. "No, Alfred, there is not."

Alfred's eyes lowered and he nodded, keeping quiet as the office doors behind them opened and a messenger entered, looking wearily between the two nations before receiving acknowledging gesture from Matthew. The brothers were silent and the tension in the room had lessened to a sorrowful degree. One withdrawn into his own thoughts and the other between steeling himself for the coming meeting with his human boss, and wanting to say something to comfort or thank his brother for his concern. The twins might not see eye to eye, but Matthew recognized the attempt for what it was...Alfred trying to help.

Finally, it was Alfred who looked up at Matthew with a half-hearted smile and eyes pooled with sadness, but he stopped gripping the desk and stood up straight. Matthew knew that Alfred had accepted that this meeting was over.

"Ya gotta do what you gotta do," Alfred said, looking down at the papers beneath his brother's hand. "'We all have leaders to answer to, whether we care for them or not...and someday you'll have your own form of government and some bloody git telling you what to do...and you better damn well do it'...right?"

Matthew's expression sank as Alfred looked back up at him with knowing and apologetic sky blue eyes.

The American didn't say another word as he turned from the desk and left the office, leaving the Canadian with his thoughts and the declaration laid out on the desk. Matthew was bound by his prime minister and the Prime Minister of England, his thoughts in the scheme of coming events meant about as much as Alfred's mattered to his own president.

Sadly...Alfred had only now come to realize that.

"Sir?"

"I'm coming."

It hadn't been long before America declared its neutrality, stating that it would not be drawn into the European conflict, but would continue to allow trade with both sides of the war. While the British naval blockade made trade with Germany increasingly difficult, not much effort had been made on the American side to overcome the obstacle. Germany, however, had found a way...announcing unrestricted submarine warfare and any ship, neutral or not, was fair game in hostile waters.

The Lusitania had been the first break in America's neutrality. Despite Germany's efforts to mollify the nation with compensation over the loss of life and cargo, relations remained strained. In February of 1916, America tried once again to reach a peace agreement between Central and Allied Powers, sending dignitaries and its nation's avatar to London to meet with Britain's foreign minister Grey. However, the barely agreed upon House-Grey Memorandum did not last a month before the sinking of the British vessel Sussex destroyed all attempts made at peace. The fury over Germany's lack of restraint only just overshadowed American anger with Britain over the Easter Rising in Dublin, which flared Irish-American tensions with the empire. However, it was the Zimmerman Telegram that arrived via British Intelligence that sealed the fate of America's thirty-two months of neutrality.

[1 April, 1917]

Alfred remembered standing across the desk from his boss, staring at the message with a mixture of shock and disbelief. President Wilson, too, looked both grim and disheartened. A copy of the message had been leaked to the papers and was now circulating throughout the country...and when the morning came there was going to be a drastic shift from indifference to demands for all-out war.

But not another war with Mexico, who had assured the U.S. that it had rejected Germany's proposal outright. America would be going to war in Europe...Alfred's hand fell and the telegram slipped from his fingers.

"It's inevitable." It wasn't a question any more.

His boss remained lost in thought for a long time before sighing and leaning forward in his chair, elbows on the table, chin resting on joined hands. His gaze was distant, but he knew what the man across from him was feeling - he felt it too.

"Who delivered this?"

"A messenger from London," The president said, looking up to meet Alfred's pained expression. "Not Lord Kirkland...according to Prime Minister George, he's still at the front."

Alfred fell into a quiet pause as he tried to come to terms with what was happening. He was so tired, the past few years had been tearing him apart as the conflicting opinions of his people, his bosses, and his own views battled within him. Keeping relations with Germany had left a terrible taste in his mouth, and the shame he felt at the thought of Matthew...and even Arthur fighting in France while he was safely protected on the far side of the Atlantic made him sick at night. Regardless, he believed in his boss's attempts to negotiate a peaceful resolution without risking American lives in a war he was still angry about. Still, just as it had been inevitable for Matthew to go, it looked like his 'protesting' was finally over.

"That's where I'll be going, isn't it?"

"It's something we've both tried very hard to avoid, Alfred. I know how you feel, but I won't lie to you, I'm going to be addressing Congress tomorrow and I'm going to have to ask for a declaration of war. I can't imagine the request being denied," The human began, his tone solemn as he watched the young nation resigning himself to the facts. "Roosevelt will be happy...he knew this neutrality wouldn't last."

At the mention of his previous boss, a man Alfred had actually liked and admired, his fists clenched. It had been one bone of contention between them that his former president so steadfastly advocated that supporting the Allies was the "true American thing to do", and anything less was pure cowardice. It was one of the main reasons Alfred had avoided the man for so long, especially after Wilson's successful reelection where Roosevelt's candidate had lost. However much respect he had for the man, he just couldn't bring himself to agree with him about the war. The country had always leaned more towards the side of Britain and the rest of the Allies, but to cut all ties with Germany when the empire hadn't done anything directly to his country just felt like...like he was letting Britain dictate his foreign policy all over again.

America was conflicted, but would never denounce its independence or policies because it made Britain unhappy.

It all seemed so childish now.

"Our military is only about 300,000 troops strong. We're still dealing with the uprising in the Philippines and we're not exactly practiced in the kind of warfare that's happening out there," Alfred said, sadness overtaking him again. "We're going to take heavy casualties."

The president gave a sad smile in return and looked down at his desk, "Not nearly as many as our allies already have, Alfred. That is the only small comfort I can offer.

Alfred winced at the thought. By God...had this war really been going on for three years? How many had died because of it? He didn't want to complete that train of thought.

The president slowly stood from his place behind the Resolute Desk and drew Alfred's attention back to him. The Oval Office was quiet and lit with dim electric lighting, the windows were dark, as it was past midnight, and while the American people were still sleeping at this late hour Alfred knew for a fact that the offices of the West Wing were bursting with activity just outside the doors behind him. He would have to walk through them to...

Where would he go? Home? His room here in the White House? Would he head to the Cabinet Room and get a jump start on the excruciating meetings ahead? There was a lot of work to be done, he knew; this wouldn't be the first time his country had declared war on someone. But he just couldn't bring himself to do anything to forward those plans at the moment.

It was an odd feeling inside of him, like now that it was an inevitable thing he had all the time in the world to put his name on a piece of paper. Yet, in reality, he knew he only had until Congress gave final approval to the president's request, and who knew how long or how soon that would be. It was going to happen, but the time table was completely in the air.

It hadn't been that way for Matthew. He hadn't had any time at all...any time at all...

"Alfred, I'm going to bed," The president began, putting his hands in the pockets of his blazer and giving his nation's avatar a half-hearted smile of reassurance. They were both exhausted, so much so that neither one of them had much left energy to lie about the possibility of making this a cheery situation. "I'm not so unacquainted with you that I'd suggest you get some rest too, as you'll never do it; but I will suggest that you take a walk and try to put some things into perspective before we approach Congress tomorrow. I know this is not the ideal situation for either of us, but I'm not a man who believes that good cannot be found in even the darkest of hours. If I recall, neither are you."

With that, the president rounded the desk and walked over to Alfred, placing a firm pat on the blond's shoulder before the old man crossed the floor and exited the Oval Office; leaving Alfred standing in the center of the room alone.

Wilson was his 28th president, and compared to his predecessors Alfred ranked him among his favorites. Washington had been the man who brought the nation together and to victory in the Revolution, but for Alfred, he had been the replacement father figure when Britain withdrew nearly all ties with him. Adams, Jefferson, and Madison had taken up the roles as Alfred had grown into his own and began to really function as a national avatar should. Madison had struggled with him through the War of 1812 (where Arthur had captured his nation's capital and burned the White House to the ground), and without Lincoln he never would have survived the Civil War.

Of all his presidents, other than Washington, Lincoln had gone through the most with him. The Civil War had damn near obliterated his mind, as half as him set out on a quest to destroy the other. It had been four years of absolute hell, and more than once he had nearly lost control and attacked his own president. Trying to serve two masters at once had been too much for him; between Davis screaming for the blood of the North and Lincoln demanding surrender or war with the South, he could barely function.

He still had nightmares about it, about nearly loosing himself and dying as the hatred and screams of his country echoed endlessly in his mind, day and night. When it was over it had taken him what felt like ages to recover enough to return to his duties in government. When Lincoln was assassinated by John Wilkes Booth...Alfred had dropped on the spot and fallen comatose until Johnson was hastily sworn in. Three other presidents had been assassinated since then, each causing the young avatar to fall until the successor took his place, and Alfred had never understood the terrible reaction his body had to each event. While mourning his boss the first time it had happened, he had had the overwhelming urge to contact his former mentor and father to demand the answers to what else he didn't know about being a nation. But the thought was quickly dashed the moment Lincoln's casket appeared before him and the hatred returned.

Britain had supported the Confederacy during the war that nearly ripped him to shreds and ultimately killed his president and dear friend. If he ever spoke with the bastard again...it would be all too soon.

Theodore Roosevelt had been his saving grace when McKinley was assassinated, and of all his presidents since Lincoln, Roosevelt had been the one who returned Alfred to his former self in granting him the most freedom of any of his predecessors. Roosevelt had been young and energetic, eager to broaden America's horizons and reestablish ties with the world. Alfred hadn't spoken to Arthur much before Roosevelt had come to office, but the man had been determined to mend ties with Britain and form bonds beyond the borders. Alfred had been nervous about it at first, but he had gone along with his president's wishes and made the attempt.

While Roosevelt and Britain's bosses were on sporting good terms, Alfred and Arthur were as unsure of each other as ever. Their transgressions against each other were older than their human masters, so things were not so easy to repair.

Taft's election further supported relations with Britain, and then France, but the man blundered all hopes of keeping ties with Canada strong. Alfred had not been pleased about it, preferring to have had a stronger relationship with his brother than anyone in Europe, but once again, it was out of his hands.

Now he had Wilson. This man was older and didn't have the same militaristic sense of Washington or the wisdom and council of Lincoln; and he didn't have the vigor and vibrancy of Roosevelt either. But he did have a strong sense of peace and a genuine desire to do what he felt was best for his country. He had a lot of critics, former presidents included, but Alfred admired his ability to keep his chin high and his convictions strong. Neither of them had wanted this war, and the people hadn't wanted it either...but now it was here and Alfred hoped to God the man channeled some of his predecessors' stronger attributes and managed a hold on his own. If Alfred had to go then he would go, but he wanted a leader with a good head on his shoulders leading the way.

The country trusted Wilson. So Alfred trusted Wilson.

What more could he do but put faith in him?

"At least it's not some bloody git telling me what to do," Alfred said to the emptiness around him. He looked up at the presidential seal before him, and higher still to the two flags behind the desk: his president's and his own. The fight for those stars and stripes had been long and bloody, his democracy had risen from depths no one in the international community ever thought survivable, and he had seen his country become something...truly great.

Now it was time to prove to the rest of the world just how great it was.

"Alright, Arthur..." He whispered, as he bent down to pick up the telegram he had dropped earlier. He glanced over the words one last time before his eyes narrowed, fingers clenching around the hated note as if destroying it would make all the pain over this decision go away. "Here's me accepting your final invitation. I hope you're satisfied."

[2 April, 1917]

"It is a distressing and oppressive duty, Gentlemen of the Congress, which I have performed in thus addressing you. There are, it may be, many months of fiery trial and sacrifice ahead of us. It is a fearful thing to lead this great peaceful people into war, into the most terrible and disastrous of all wars, civilization itself seeming to be in the balance. But the right is more precious than peace, and we shall fight for the things which we have always carried nearest our hearts,—for democracy, for the right of those who submit to authority to have a voice in their own governments, for the rights and liberties of small nations, for a universal dominion of right by such a concert of free peoples as shall bring peace and safety to all nations and make the world itself at last free. To such a task we can dedicate our lives and our fortunes, everything that we are and everything that we have, with the pride of those who know that the day has come when America is privileged to spend her blood and her might for the principles that gave her birth and happiness and the peace which she has treasured. God helping her, she can do no other."

-Thomas Woodrow Wilson, 28th President of the United States of America

On April 6th, 1917, nearly three years after the start of the war, the U.S. Congress declared war on Germany. Entering the war as an associate power of the Allied Forces, Americans first hit the grounds of Europe in June of 1917.

[26 June, 1917]

"Yo, Arthur, you wanted to see me?"

To Be Continued...

Notes from the Author:

Sorry this took so long to get up! I've been working all through the holidays and haven't had much time to write much beyond filling up my notebook with World War I notes. So, FINALLY I've gotten to Alfred and tackled my first attempt at portraying Canada and...I REALLY HOPE I DIDN'T SCREW IT UP! Huge props to KitakLaw (who is amazing, BTW) for helping me with Matthew's character development and all things Canadian. :) You rock, Kitak! As for the rest of the fic...maaaaan did this take a lot of research to pull together. So let's break it down:

1.) To my knowledge there was never any formal meeting between Canada and the U.S. before the outbreak of World War I about the war. The meeting between Matthew and Alfred is totally fictionalized by yours truly, but I'd like to think Alfred had enough concern to make such a trip and...well...be all Alfredie. However, it is completely true that Canada's involvement in WWI was the result of Britain declaring war and Canada having to support them by default (thank you again, Kitak for explaining dominions to me). According to what I've read, most English-speaking Canadians were behind supporting Britain and the war effort, but there was a stark divide with the French-speaking Canadians that caused a lot of tension. ): I feel bad for Matthew...poor guy.

2.) Alfred's "git" quote while speaking with Matthew is a quote from Arthur in my first fanfic about the Revolutionary War, "You Were So Small". X3 Yep, see Arthur, you CAN teach the boy something!

3.) Okay, there's a lot of American history coming up, so here goes: America took a stance of neutrality from the start of the war in 1914 until they entered the war in 1917. However, during this time the U.S. was still honoring trades with members of BOTH the Allied and Central powers, though opinions and favor was still geared more towards the Allied side. The infamousLusitania sinking was one of many bones of contention between America and Germany, but after each American interest was damaged or U.S. citizen was harmed or killed during America's period of neutrality, Germany compensated the U.S. with the hopes of keeping them neutral. This, however, did not keep America's hands out of the war in the capacity that they made repeated attempts to make contact with British, French, and German leaders to negotiate a peaceful end to the war. While there were a few close successes, they all ultimately ended in failure. When the serious problems on the Russian front began to show (their civil war brewing and causing much of Russia's army to commit mutiny or return to Russia) the Central Powers thought not having eastern front to worry about would allow them to focus solely on taking out France. With the fear of the U.S. coming out of neutrality, Germany withdrew its promise not to engage in unrestricted submarine warfare and sent the fated Zimmerman Telegram to Mexico. Unfortunately for the Germans, the British had intercepted the telegram and sent it to the U.S. to show them that Germany had no intention of keeping this conflict in Europe. If you don't already know, the Zimmerman Telegram basically promised Mexico "generous financial support" and the return of all territory lost to the U.S. during the last Mexican-American War if Mexico promised to declare war on America should neutrality be broken. It is believed that the idea was to keep America busy protecting its own flank and therefore too occupied to come into the war in Europe on the Allies' side. This was the straw that broke the camel's back and forced President Wilson to go before Congress and ask for the declaration of war on Germany. The large quote I used at the end was direct from his speech before Congress on the day after the Zimmerman Telegram was received.

4.) Quick note: I mentioned in here about the Easter Rising in Dublin, Ireland as one of the reasons Americans had such a bad opinion of England before entering the war. The Easter Uprising was a rebellion in Ireland against England, hoping to oust them from the country and force England to meet the demands of the Irish Republican Brotherhood to recognize and free and independent Ireland. The rebellion ended with the deaths of civilians and the executions of the rebellion leaders, which did not help Irish-American views in the United States. (Yep, we have quite the Irish population in the U.S. :) Yours truly being a descendent of them.)

5.) Before WWI, America was less than 100 years in coming out of the Mexican-American War, the Spanish-American War, and the Civil War. Three presidents had been assassinated up to this point, there was an independence war going on in the Philippines (the Philippines having been annexed by the U.S. after the Spanish Empire's loss in the Spanish-American war), and the American home front was becoming more and more in favor of isolationism (though that didn't get taken to the extreme until the conclusion of WWI). Therefore...I can see why Alfred would be less than keen on getting involved with the war in Europe, even though he's personally conflicted over it considering both Matthew and Arthur are there. But at the end of this chapter, Alfred is indeed in Europe...X3 though you'll have to wait until chapter 3 to find out what happens next.

*panting* Okay...it's now past 1am and I'm really tired...off to bed with me. Enjoy the chapter and I hope to have the next up as soon as I can. :) Thank you to all of you who have reviewed, favorited, and read my piece! YOU ALL ARE SO WONDERFUL!

Many Thanks Again,

General Kitty Girl