Title: Only Light and Momentary [2/?]

Author: tatterdemalion

Characters/Pairings: The relationship between Canada and the Netherlands will take centre stage - however, other characters involved in their relations will also appear.

Rated: It varies. T for now, for swearing and violence.

Summary: A chronicle of Matthew's relationship with Lars, from 1611 to present day. In this chapter, The Beaver Wars, circa 1645-1701.

Warning: In this chapter, I talk about some pretty touchy subjects. Characters in this story may also express views towards Native Americans that are not views I share with them. Please try to remember the era this story is being written in, and who's point of view it is being observed from.

The second time Lars visits, he turns Matthew's world upside down.

The Netherlands is jovial when he returns to Matthew's lands, in the 1620's. Though he looks a little more haggard (from the war with Spain, he admits, which is not going that well, Matthew, stop asking), his mood is light; he whistles folk tunes when he swings Matthew around; pats his cheek; gives him salmiakdrops to try. He laughs heartily when Matthew makes a face and only refrains from spitting the salty treat out for fear of offending the other country.

He is happy to see Lars but then Lars starts stirring up trouble.

Matthew hears about it when he is staying with Francis in New France. Francis is getting along well with a tribe of Matthew's children, whom he calls the Huron, and Matthew is pleased that he can make Francis happy with furs and trade. He hears news of some of his other children fighting amongst themselves - the smaller of the two, the Wenro, lose their territory to the Iroquois, and the Wenro flee to the Huron. Matthew feels uneasy when he hears this, though his children have clashed before, even before the foreigners had come.

In 1641 Lars appears in New France - in Trois Rivieres to be exact, along with several Mohawk. When Matthew sees him, he is excited that the Dutch have made friends, too, and he hugs the tall blonde joyfully until Francis clears his throat with sharp precision and inquires about Lars's business.

They retire back to Francis's office to talk privately, leaving the Mohawk behind. Matthew is brought along, something that makes him feel like a grown up. Francis pours Lars a drink out of politeness and waits.

Lars explains that the Mohawk have come to propose peace with the French, if the French will agree to set up a trading post in Iroquois territory. To Matthew, it is wonderful news - peace between both old and new children, trade across his lands, prosperity for all!

"No." Francis says, almost immediately after Lars finishes.

"Why not?!" Matthew demands from his chair by the window, and both men turn to him quizzically, as if they have forgotten he is there.

Francis looks angry at the interruption. "Mathieu, tiens-toi bien!" he commands. Lars has a triumphant look on his face.

"Listen to the little one." he urges. "All he wants is peace. Right, my little konijn?"

Matthew nods his head enthusiastically, and Lars laughs as if he has won something. Francis scowls at his colony.

"Mathieu, please wait outside." he orders, using a tone that Matthew has learned not to argue with.

Matthew sulks outside for a bit, kneeling by the open window, listening to Lars and Francis talk.

"...doesn't know anything about you, but I do." Francis is in the middle of saying, laughing bitterly and pacing the floor. "Tell me, since your savage friends haven't been giving you enough furs, did you encourage them to seek more in my territory?"

"Come, Francis." Lars says boldly. "What if I just wish to strengthen our relationship?"

Francis does not look convinced. "Ah, and I suppose stealing my furs is "strengthening a relationship" to you Dutch?" he does not wait for an answer. "I will still say no. I have an alliance with the Huron - to erect a trading post would be to betray them, and I need them."

Lars tilts his head. "Are you sure?" he asks.

"Most certainly." there is a strained pause, a brief scuffle, and when Francis speaks again his voice is low and dangerous. "And please try to remember that Mathieu is not "your" anything."

Lars's voice still contains mirth - which is hard, Matthew realizes, peeking over the edge of the window, when someone has you pinned against a table. "Times change, France." he informs the other European nation. "New Netherlands is getting stronger."

"Not strong enough." Francis snorts. "This is not, and never will be, your land. Take your savages and get out of my sight."

Lars laughs; Matthew ducks down under the windowsill to avoid being seen. Soon Lars rounds the corner looking for him, and smiles when he finds him guiltily squashed up against the house.

"The little konijn has big ears." he observes, and Matthew splutters and apologizes for eavesdropping. Lars shakes his head, holds out his arms, and Matthew gladly stands and sinks into them.

"I'm sorry Francis won't trade with you." Matthew murmurs into Lars's shoulder - he is still a few infuriating inches shorter than the other man. Lars runs a hand soothingly up and down between Matthew's shoulder blades.

"Don't worry about me, konijn." Lars declared. "I'll be just fine."

Matthew believes him and leans into his embrace.

Matthew does not think of himself as a naive country. No matter what the Europeans say about his level of civility, he was conscious for a long time before they ever landed on his shores, and he has seen his fair share of brutality, starvation and hardships.

This is foreign to him, when Francis brings him in close one day while they are having supper, touches his face and tells him that the Huron, his allies, are being attacked by the Iroquois.

"Why?" Matthew asks. "Because of the furs? Because you won't help them?"

Francis frowns. "Do you think this is my fault?" he asks, voice dangerous. Matthew does not catch the inflection.

"Well, why else would they be attacking?" he continues, tilting his head as Francis slides a hand into his hair. "My people are reasonable, they don't just attack people for no reason - ah!"

The hand in his hair tightens and Francis hisses, "Oh, there is a reason behind their attack, Mathieu, and it is a Dutch reason."

Matthew untangles himself from Francis's grip, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Dutch?" he repeats. "What does Lars have to do with it?"

Francis laughs. "Everything, mon petit." he snarls. "Everything."

Matthew does not understand. Lars is strange, yes, but he is kind, and he cannot imagine Lars telling Matthew's children to attack Francis. The Iroquois continue to attack the Huron in quick, brief, raids, disrupting trade with the French, and eventually Francis calls for peace.

It has taken New France four years, but no matter - Matthew will have peace gladly. He is not supposed to be at the meeting between the Iroquois and the French, but he goes anyways, hiding in the trees, hoping to see Lars (Francis has been oddly strict about Matthew crossing the Dutch man's path). Lars is not present, but Matthew witnesses Francis shaking hands with one of the Iroquois leaders and his heart swells.

The French have agreed to trade with the Iroquois, and when Francis leaves for Europe in the autumn after he looks grimly happy. He kisses Matthew on both cheeks and warns him, again, to watch his footing around the Dutch.

By next summer the Iroquois resume their attacks, and this time the French retaliate with help from their Huron allies. Matthew feels like the breath has become stuck in his throat - he has heard nothing from Lars, has not even seen the man since 1641, and as the sides clash he hopes this will not escalate.

This is tiny, this is nothing, he chants in his head as the Huron go to the Susqehannocks for help and the Iroquois retreat into their Confederacy.

Small things happen, little battles that never go anywhere. The people of New France are worried about the raids, and Matthew does his best to comfort them in Francis's absence.

One winter night in 1648 Matthew is awakened by screams and shouting and gunfire. He leaps out of bed, stuffs himself into his boots, grabs the rifle that both Arthur and Francis taught him how to use, 'but only in strict emergency, Matthew, you understand?'

He is staying in Huron territory, with some Jesuit missionaries from Europe, and as he burst out the door he sees his people fleeing, moving away from the forest that borders the town. He can see figures slinking out of the woods, Iroquois, his own children against each other, holding weapons, guns that reflect the moonlight and fire quick and mercilessly. People fall - too many, too many, and Matthew clutches at his head as a bullet whizzes by.

This is wrong, so wrong, where are Francis and Arthur and, and Lars? Who has given Matthew's children guns so they can take their anger out on others? Anger and hurt and sadness blind Matthew and he stumbles behind the little house he is staying in, collapsing in the snow and pressing his face to the ground as the noise around him swells in a horrible crescendo.

In the morning missionaries and Huron alike lie dead under the morning sun. Those who are not dead have fled, the Iroquois nowhere to be seen. Matthew packs warm clothing and food that he found in the abandoned village houses, and follows the footprints of the Iroquois. There is blood mingled with the indentations - casualties on both sides. Matthew knows as well as his people how to hunt and farm and track, and he follows them for days, on their heels, trying to understand.

He follows them southerly to their lands, where they stop and converse with white men, exchanging and buying goods. Matthew's heart stops in his chest when he sees the Iroquois handing coin to the men in exchange for bullets and guns. This feeling is amplified when he catches sight of Lars, bundled in a large coat and fur hat, standing cheerfully to the side, chatting to his men.

Matthew emerges from the trees, shocked and sick. "Nederlands?" he asks, quietly, and Lars's face lights up when he turns to face him.

"Konijn!" he greets, holding out his arms. Matthew does not run into them; instead he steps towards him with careful feet.

"What are you doing?" Matthew demands. Lars cocks his head.

"Trading!" he exclaims as if it should be obvious - his tone is light but those grey eyes watch Matthew with steady concentration.

"That....you're selling them guns." Matthew manages. He doesn't add, guns that killed my people, though the message is clear enough in his words. "Why are you fighting the French?"

Lars takes his elbow and leads him to the edge of the trees, out of ear shot. "I'm not." he offers, a look in his eyes of satisfaction and cockiness. "My men are doing nothing. It's the Iroquois that are attacking your precious 'papa'."

"You are giving them guns!" Matthew screams out, suddenly, hot fury and panic and absolute betrayal coiling in his chest, burning a hole through his heart. Lars looks startled at his violent outburst. "That's just as bad, you are just as responsible, I - I - "

A hand claps over his mouth, squeezing against his teeth and Matthew clenches his jaw as Lars looms over him, eyes sharp as flint.

"Quiet." he orders, his voice a rumble of thunder, and Matthew trembles. "Quiet, you troublesome little boy. Don't speak of things you don't understand."

Matthew only understands the feeling of blood on his soil and the constant pressure in his ears as his children squabble and fight and move around. From this he understands that what Lars is doing is wrong.

"How could you?" he demands when Lars removes the hand. "How could you do this to me, I thought - "

What? Lars's eyes seem to ask. What did you think? You are new land, new and uncharted, and don't think that just because people are flocking to you now, that you are loved. You are new, but what is new will eventually fade.

"You've killed me." Matthew says finally, gazing back at the sight of those monstrous rifles in the hands of his children.

"Don't think that your people are completely innocent either." Lars murmurs in Matthew's ear. "They're the ones who take the guns and shoot." he looks smug when Matthew flinches away from him.

"I - I hate you." Matthew manages, spitting the words out at a man he once admired. "I want you to leave and never come back! If you do, I - I'll kill you!"

"Matthew - " Lars begins, laughing, but Matthew shoves him away, ferocity radiating in his eyes.

"I swear I will!" Matthew snarls, and before Lars can say anything he whirls around and flees back into the woods, the only thing now that can give him comfort.

Wyandot blood is fresh on his soil; the memory of the Chonnontons has been stamped out under angry feet, the Erielhonan weeded out. And all for what?

Matthew still does not know.

Translations:

Tiens-toi bien! = French for "behave yourself!"

Konijn = Dutch for "rabbit"

Historical/General Notes:

Salmiakdrop is a salty licorice drop popular in the Netherlands. Personally I take a perverse pleasure/pain in eating these things, since it gives me a feeling like I've just inhaled salt water, and it stays in my nose for ages. However I do quite like them once I get past the...y'know, the salt.

Okay, so I'm pretty surprised that I have never come across a Hetalia fic about the Beaver Wars. I mean, it was a pretty brutal war and a very good example of the European influence.

So, here's the story. The Dutch are stilling milling around the Americas in New Netherlands, having a good laugh, drinking some beer (look, I don't know, bear with me). They were important trading partners with the Iroquois Confederacy, a group of Native Americans made up of about five nations, including the Mohawk nation. Around 1630, the source of furs for the Iroquois began to decline because of several of their neighbors. They attacked the Wenro, their neighbors to the west, in 1638 and forced them off their territory. Now, on the other side of the Wenro territory were the "Neutral" tribe (also known as the Chonnonton) and the "Erie" tribe (also known as the Erielhonan). Those tribes were much bigger, so the Iroquois couldn't expand west in search of more sources of furs.

Since the Dutch traded heavily with the Iroquois, they actually encouraged the Iroquois to try expanding North, into French territory, and in 1641 the Mohawks made a trip to New France to ask for peace with the French - providing, you know, the French set up a trading post on their land.

At this time New France was thriving, and they had made an alliance with the Huron, or the Wyandot. The governor of New France said, "no, thank you" to the Iroquois because of their alliance with the Huron people, and soon afterwards the Iroquois began launching attacks on Huron frontier towns, trying to mess up trade between the French and the Huron.

So, the French are SO NOT COOL WITH THIS AT ALL. In 1645 they try to arrange peace. They're like, "look, okay, cool down Iroquois. We'll trade with you guys, yeah? Just take a chill pill". So the following summer a HUGE ASS FLEET of Iroquois canoes carrying furs arrive in New France, but the French refuse to purchase the furs and say that the Iroquois must sell them to the Huron. It was a sort of middleman thing, and the Iroquois were not pleased with this.

So they resumed attacking the Huron. The French didn't like this reaction, so they decided to become involved in the conflict. By this point the Hurons and the Iroquois were pretty evenly matched in numbers, and for a while the fighting continued on and off in little scuffles here and there. New France was raided a couple of times, and many people were extremely frightened of the Iroquois.

Here is where shit hits the fan. The Dutch, who had encouraged Iroquois expansion, sold the Iroquois guns in 1648, selling them directly to the nations instead of through traders. That winter, Iroquois warriors were sent into the woods in Huron territory, where they promptly attacked many villages and killing thousands, including some Jesuit missionaries. The ones they didn't kill were brought back as prisoners and assimilated into Iroquois culture. Some Huron managed to flee and seek assistance from a friendly confederacy, and with the Huron gone the Iroquois now controlled a territory that was extremely rich in furs.

I stopped the story there, but it got worse. By the time the war was over, the "Neutral" or Chonnonton tribe had been completely destroyed and the "Erie" or Erielhonan tribe had been decimated, with the remaining survivors assimilated into other native nations.

This war continued on for a very long time, with the French counter attacking, with other tribes getting involved - even the English, who moved into Dutch territory in the early 1680s, got involved, giving the Iroquois firearms like the Dutch had and encouraging them to disrupt French activity.

Eventually in about 1698 the Iroquois realized that WAIT the English were becoming a bigger threat than the French, what with their rapid colonization beginning to threaten the Iroquois borders. At the same time the French began to think that they were NEVER going to be able to beat the Iroquois, and tried to become more friendly with them.

They signed a treaty in 1701 along with the English. It took until 1701, you guys! I'm giving you the quick and dirty version of this event, but it was staggering and monumental and really a very unsettling and bloody war. I highly recommend you reading up on it if you don't already know about it, it's fascination and depressing at the same time. Entire tribes and cultures were wiped out because of this. I really wanted to show how Matthew, despite the fact that tribes and confederacies were often at war with one another, would be so terribly confused and unprepared for something so brutal and almost European-like, especially when the guns were thrown into the mix. The Dutch, for their part, kinda sat back and laughed and then went away, so Lars's part in this is not as integral as I made it seem to be - however, I think Matthew would have felt so betrayed when he realized that Lars was encouraging the Iroquois's actions.