A/N: Part 2!
Me: Can I have the rights to APH!
Japan: No.
Me: Please?
Japan: No.
Me: (throwing temper tantrum) NO! I WANT IT I WANT IT I WAAANT IT!
Japan: '-_-
Miss India was a strange woman indeed.
She arrived to the house unexpectedly, dressed in a blood red sari and bare feet, smelling strongly of curry and ginger. Aside from her mother, she was the prettiest woman Akosua had ever seen.
Maya was strong, she could see, and very smart. She knew lots of things, like how to catch bluebirds and how to get the stitches on embroidery just right, and she knew how to braid Akosua's hair in such a way that the braid turned inside and upside down. Little wonders that she performed, those pleased the African colony very much.
She hoped she could have at least half her beauty and knowledge when she was older.
Days at England's house, the seven year old thought as she woke that day, were rather methodical. Gold Coast would wake at around the sixth hour, wash up, dress in her standard apron and handkerchief, then tidy up the house. Her job was to clean the kitchen, both a curse and a blessing.
A blessing because she could sneak small butter toffees when no one was looking.
A curse because it was almost as messy in the bathroom. The girl soon realized that the Brit's kitchen was a dangerous place, mainly because it's master couldn't utilize it properly. She spent her time scrubbing hardened food particles off of various pots and pans, dusting the stove, and removing any leftovers from the sink drain.
After the cleaning job of hell...er...doing her chores, Akosua would go to Collecting. Collecting was where she and the other colonies in England's house would give up a portion of jewels and gold and other resources.
It was an exhausting process, almost like getting a shot every day. She would stand in front of England's desk, raise her hand, and let a torrent of treasures fall from her fingers. It was a strange power that she had somehow obtained back in 1867. She let the jewels fall until her knees wobbled and spots began to dance in her vision. Arthur would then write something down in a worn leather bound book, then let her go.
After that, she usually felt sleepy, but she still climbed the large winding staircase until she reached the library, where she remained until dinner.
Akosua loved the place. She adored finding old fairy tales, fingering the crinkled pages, admiring the pictures of beautiful obroni women in long gowns and brilliant tiaras and the handsome men with fancy clothes and razor sharp swords to protect their maidens.
Of course, it probably would be better if she could actually read the stories, but pictures were nice as well.
And it was here that India found her, thumbing through an old volume about a woman with long hair.
Akosua looked up. "Hello, Maya."
The Indian, also dressed in an apron, gave a tired smile. "Hello, Akosua." she tilted her head. "What are you up to?"
The African yawned. "I'm reading."
"What about?"
She paused for a second and tugged at her braid out of habit. "Um, a lady with long hair...in a tower...and...other things..."
"Have you read this one before?"
She nodded. "Yes. A number of times, in fact."
India paused for a second, then began to laugh. Akosua felt her cheeks heat up as she crossed her arms over her chest. "What?"
Maya leaned against the doorway, struggling not to laugh again. "No...no..." She bit her lip, still grinning. "It's just so cute that you can't read yet..." She chuckled. "Wait here, I need to get something." And with that, she disappeared down the hall.
A few minutes later, she returned with an old sketch pad, a charcoal pencil stub, and a tiny bit of rubber. She then sat down next to the younger girl, her legs crossed.
"Here, watch," Maya instructed the girl. She then placed the charcoal to the paper and drew three lines: two slanted ones connected at one end and a third horizontal line between them.
"This," she said, holding up the paper, "is the letter A, as in..." Here she wrote more funny markings on the page. "...Abigail...or..." She wrote another series of letters. "...Annemarie."
Akosua's ears perked up at the English names of her sister South Africa and herself, and studied the large letter.
"A..." she repeated slowly. She then tugged at her braid again. "Why are we doin' this?
India turned the page and began to write again. "Well..." she said, not takin her eyes off the paper, "it's quite a bit of rubbish to look at books if you can't read, isn't it? So, I'm going to teach you." She raised a dark eyebrow. "Are you up for that?"
The African nodded.
"Good. Then let's continue."
And the two did continue. Maya and Akosua met in the library almost every afternoon at three o'clock for a full year, by which time, the younger colony had learned to read not only fairy tales, but the encyclopedia and the dictionary. She could write her full name in print and in cursive, and was able to locate herself on the globe, which was what she was currently occupied with one Saturday morning...
The seven year old blew a stray curl out of her face as she twirled the wooden globe with one finger, her gaze drifting lazily on the tiny chunk of land in West Africa she represented. She then located some of her sisters and brothers, and plopped down on the floor with a sigh.
Boredom, she concluded, was a cruel thing indeed.
She was basically alone in the house. England had taken the older colonies to the market, leaving her alone with Barbados, Sierra Leone, and Hong Kong. Two hours had passed, however, leaving Akosua in a room full of books having been read.
She sighed, then rose stiffly and wandered downstairs, in search of small candies that age could suck on. When she reached the kitchen, she pushed herself onto the counter and stood on the smooth tiles to reach the toffee jar, a skill that she had learned quickly. She then sat down, swinging her legs on the counter and rolling the buttery treat in her mouth.
"Ah, I hope they bring back some chocolate," she mumbled to herself. Chocolate was her most favored sweet. As her head was filled with visions of chocolate treats to go along with her toffee, her small fingers brushed against a tiny piece of paper under her blue skirt. The paper was crinkled, the writing faded, but still rather readable.
"Mumsy's Scone Recipe..." she muttered, reading the scrawly handwriting. She raised a dark eyebrow. "What's a mumsy?" she wondered aloud as she kept reading.
"Hmmm..." she bit her lip. "One cup of sugar..."
The girl then froze. There was finally something to do! Cooking didn't seem all that hard, she had seen her family do it before.
Maybe she could also figure out why Arthur's scones upset her stomach so as well...
Akosua slid from the counter onto the cool floor and went into a cupboard and pulled out the sugar bag. She then brought a chair from the dining room and pushed it to the counter, giving her more freedom to get whatever she wanted. The paper also read for two cups of flour. She then reached into the cabinet and hefted the large sack on the counter. A large puff of the stuff flew out, whiting out her cheeks and causing her to sneeze.
And so it went. After twenty minutes, the African colony had rounded up all the ingredients she needed, including a large bowl, a wooden spoon, baking sheet, and measuring instruments. She was about to spoon out a cup of flour when she heard a voice behind her.
"Abigail? What are you doing?"
She nearly fell off her chair at the sound and slowly turned. Hong Kong stood in the kitchen doorway, hands stuck in the pockets of his breeches. She took a deep breath, still slightly shaken up.
"Um..well...I'm cooking..." she choked out. She then walked over to her brother with a pleading expression. "You won't tell, will you?"
Leon blew a strand of brown hair from his face, his expression unreadable as always. "I suppose..." he said slowly. His large eyes blinked twice. "Can...I help?"
A large grin spread over the girl's face. "Yes, please!" She then cast a look to the various ingredients on the counter. "I think I'll need more help, though. Can you get Robyn and Sarah to help too?"
The Asian nodded and sped down the hall. In a few minutes, the four seven year olds stood on chairs against the counter. They all wore aprons about seven sizes too big.
Gold Coast grinned at her siblings. "You all ready?"
Sierra Leone, who lost her two front teeth recently, showed her gap proudly. Barbados pushed her beaded micro braids out of her dark face and gave a cheery grin. Even Hong Kong cracked a half smile. They all nodded.
"Come on, then! We don't have all day!" And with that, the four began.
The smell was what first made India suspicious. It wasn't the smell of something burning, or rotting, but it actually smelled...good. The scent reminded her of the tandoori naan she liked to bake on special occasions. After she had put the various things that had been gathered at the market away, she ventured into the kitchen to see what the source of the scent was.
A plate sat on the counter, which appeared to be washed clean. Triangular piles of pastry sat atop one another, still warm.
India raised an eyebrow. "Not burnt," she murmured to herself. Her long fingers then broke a tiny piece off of a pastry and tentatively raised it to her lips.
It actually tasted...good...
Her brown eyes widened as she took another piece. But...this was impossible! There was no way that Arthur could cook something with flavor...and taste...by himself.
She then heard footsteps in the doorway. Speak of the devil...
She turned. "Sir, did you make these?"
The Englishman raised a thick eyebrow at the plate on the counter. "No, I didn't..." He then took a piece. "They taste like the ones that I make, though..."
India had to resist the urge to roll her eyes. "Uh huh...yeah, sure..." She heard footsteps behind her once again, this time it was Hong Kong in the doorway. The strange thing was, however, that he was covered head to toe in white powder.
England approached his Asian colony, arms crossed. "Leon?"
Hong Kong sneezed. "Yes, sir?" India had to silently applaud the boy for his straight face.
"Did you make these?"
A pause. The boy looked from India, to the counter, to England again.
"It was Abigail's idea."
England sighed and walked out the kitchen to the large staircase. "Abigail?"
No answer.
"Young lady, you have exactly five seconds to come down here!"
A loud thump was heard upstairs.
"One...two..."
Loud footsteps bounded down the hallway.
"Three..."
"I'm here! I'm here!" The girl sped down the carpeted steps, smoothing out her dress. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she gave her sweetest smile, standing up straight, hands clasped behind her back.
"Hello, sir," she said, giving a tiny curtesy. "How was your day out today?"
The Brit raised an eyebrow. "Did you use the kitchen while we were out?"
Abigail looked down at her feet. "Yes, sir."
"Why?"
She took a deep breath. "Because I finished my chores and I had nothing else to do, sir." She lifted her gaze from the floor. "I cleaned the kitchen again when I was done. Just...don't get mad at Leon or Sarah or Robyn, it was my idea." She lowered her head again. "I'm sorry..."
A few seconds of silence passed, until England gave a sigh and knelt down to her level and lifted her chin.
"It's okay," he said softly. "I just don't want you to get hurt. Do you understand?"
She nodded slowly. "Yes, sir." She sneezed again.
England gave a soft smile. "Hey. I'll tell you what. You can use the kitchen as long as I'm home to watch you. Is that alright?"
Abigail returned the smile. "Yes, sir."
By this time the area was almost completely empty. Slowly, the man rested his hand atop the girl's head and smoothed it over, his green eyes filled with an almost...caring expression. He held the gaze for a few minutes, then appeared to shake himself, stiffly rose, and left the room again, leaving the two girls alone.
As India ran up the stairs, she kept her gaze on the African colony. Running her fingers through her dark hair and pulling out a stray pin, she shook her head.
This colony was different, she knew. This colony, Gold Coast, had more power than she realized.
"Even if just for a moment.." she murmured. "The lamb has tamed the lion."