Disclaimer: So I don't own any of these characters, though most of the names used in this fic are based off of real historical people.
This is just my interpretation of how America, and the world (within Hetalia), could have been if France had won the war. So don't take it too seriously. :)
A special thanks to Hidekazu-sensei, and my editor Hoshiko. Thank you!
Part 3
Civil War - Remake
~1752 Upper Louisiana Country, October~
War is something that no country ever wants to engage in with their allies. But surely a time will come when they have a disagreement and it sometimes seems unavoidable. America asked Francis nicely to give him what he wanted. As a result for letting him down, he turned to the only other thing he knew.
Ninety days had passed and the Colonists have done nothing but damage more of the French's property. Francis knew that at this rate he was going to lose even more money trying to rebuild things, then just giving the young nation a piece of his land. But he wasn't going to give up just yet.
Francis looked over to America from across the room of the abandoned log cabin. Those bright blue eyes stared at him with anger, determination, and pain. It hurt him that he had to be this way with him, but he was told that he had spoiled him long enough. It was the only explanation as to why he was acting this way.
"America, stop this now. It's been three months now and you aren't going to change my mind by engaging in something I never agreed to in the first place!" Francis pressed as he rubbed his temples. His people were beginning to suffer because he didn't want them to fight back with full power. He knew that he outnumbered the Colonists and he didn't want to wipe them out.
America watched him carefully. No matter how hard Francis tried to hide it, America could tell he was getting to him. His clothes were torn, his eyes were tired and he was hanging on by a thread. Francis couldn't handle this and all of the other conflicts going on outside the revolt as well. He would cave soon.
"Then tell me Francis, why is it that I have to do all of this? Why can't you just do as I ask? You and I both know it would be in your best interest to do so!" America argued.
"And how do you know what is in my best interest?" Francis raised an eyebrow.
"You seem to think that me not having the land is in mine!" America retaliated.
"Listen, I've been alive a lot longer than you have. And I know a hell of a lot more than you may give me credit for," Francis explained.
"Or could it be that you're just afraid?" America challenged.
"For what reason would I need to be afraid, America? To put it simply, you aren't a real threat to me. You can destroy my properties and take the lives of my people. But in the grand scheme of things you still belong to me," Francis said with a small smile.
America looked to him with a shocked face. "Is that all I am to you Francis? Is just another piece of land? A territory? A colony? What happened to me being your younger brother? What is it that you expect of me? Did I do something wrong? Have I upset you in some way?"
Francis looked away from him and sighed. "I don't want to lie to you America. Neither do I want you to feel betrayed in any way. But you just have to trust me."
"And why should I? You haven't even given me a good enough reason as to why you won't give me the land!" America yelled.
Francis looked to him and sighed. "I do have a reason."
"Then what is it?" America asked hoping that he wasn't just saying that to get him to shut up.
"I," he said as he took a slight step back. "I can't tell you."
Disappointment. That was all America had felt for the past few years. With Matthew, with Makawee and now with him. He let out a small chuckle and shook his head. "Really. So we're going to play that game?"
Francis looked away and shook his head. "There are reasons as to why I can't tell you too. My government has given me specific orders. I cannot go against them. Brother or not."
America clinched his fists and frowned. "Fine. Well tell your government this. Come talk to me before they make decisions for me," he said, turning and walking out of the abandoned cabin.
Francis sat down near the window and sighed, closing his eyes. He remembered the conversation he had with his government perfectly.
Francis walked into the House of Bourbon meeting room and bowed his head. Sitting in front of him was the Head of the State, but he knew him better as King Louis XV.
"Your Majesty, please forgive my tardiness. I have been having a bit of problems to the west as you may have heard."
Louis looked over to Francis and gave him a less than pleasant look with his tired dark eyes. He wore a lavish black robe that was decorated with a gold threaded design. He tapped his long slender fingers on the table and motioned for him to have a seat. "It appears that boy is causing us more problems than those snooty Brits across the channel."
Francis laughed nervously and shook his head as he took a seat. "I'm not sure about that. But what I do know is that I have to tell him something soon or else he's going to get even more out of control."
"I thought you said you could handle all of that land by yourself over there Francis." He raised an eyebrow. "Should I send someone else over there to do the job?"
"No, your Majesty. Though I do need to know...why is it that we can't give him the land? Not even some of it?" Francis asked genuinely confused.
Louis sat straight up in his chair and looked to Francis seriously. He folded his hands in front of him and cleared his throat. "Let me tell you something, Francis. As you know, when a large group of people with a common purpose get together, they can do anything they set their mind to. You know this better than I do don't you?"
Francis wasn't really following what he was getting at but nodded his head slowly. "Oui."
"And recent actions of these Colonists of ours have shown that they are definitely capable of doing some damage to our hard work and erasing the name of our empire off the map of America. That boy is sharp and he knows that with all of the wars and traveling you've just endured you are more susceptible to caving to his demands. But I say no," Louis said firmly.
"Are you saying that if I give him the land, he could potentially rise up against us?" Francis asked and then laughed a little. "Your Majesty, as logical as that may sound it's impossible. America would never rise against us because he needs us to survive."
"Now," Louis said simply. "But once he figures out the tricks of the trade and grows beyond our control, then what control will we have over him? By keeping him contained and keeping his resources at a minimum he has nothing else to do but rely on us. Think of it this way, by giving him the land it takes more money away from us. We aren't charging Canada or America even though it was all thanks to us that they are as developed as they are today."
"So you think that it's a double risk. Firstly, because there is a possibility that America could rise up against us. Secondly, because taking too much land away from us would cause a great lose in our finances?" Francis asked.
Louis nodded and smiled a little. "Now you understand."
Francis sighed. "That still doesn't answer how I'm supposed to deal with him. He won't stop until he gets something."
"Well figure something out. Talk to him. But don't tell him why we can't give him any of the land. I don't want him getting any ideas in his head. If they aren't already there to begin with," Louis mumbled, looking off suspiciously.
Francis shook his head. "What, do you want me to lie to him? I can't do that, I..."
"Do whatever you have to do, Francis. But this discussion is over. Take care of this before I send someone else to do it for you," Louis said, standing up. He turned away from him.
Francis stood up as well and bowed as he made his way out of the meeting room. He didn't think this was a good way to go about this at all. America wouldn't accept just a stern talking to and he definitely won't listen if he didn't give him a good enough reason as to why he couldn't have the land. This was going to turn out bad...he just felt it.
Sure enough, Francis' intuition that day was right. He stood up and looked out the window and clenched his fists. He must have dozed off for a while. He only hoped America hadn't gotten too far away from him.
It had been a whole three months since Louis had told him that and yet nothing happened. How was sitting around and letting this just continue going to help either of them? If it was the money that he was worried about then maybe America was right. Maybe King Louis should have just talked to America face to face.
He made his way out of the building and looked around cautiously. The deserted streets were a little too quiet and he knew that the colonists were hiding out somewhere, waiting for him to move so they could attack.
He had to find America and set things right. He knew that he couldn't go against his people or his government. But the colonists were almost as much his people as the mainland French were. So why should he deny their requests as well?
If anything he had to make a deal with America to get him to stop if only until he could explain the situation to his government. Or more like to King Louis. He took a step forward and a suddenly a bullet hit right beside his foot.
He took a step back and looked up on the roof tops, seeing someone quickly duck down. Damn it. So they were waiting for him to make the first move. A small grin came to his face. These were amateur soldiers. If anything they've never seen the sight of a real battle. He could dodge them easily.
The question that was burning through his mind at that moment was what happened to the soldiers that he had brought with him? Surely they weren't taken down by these...peasants. He jumped off the front step of the cabin and began running towards the entrance of the deserted town. If he was going to find America he would have to follow the footprints in hopes that they did belong to him.
Another gunshot flew past his backside as he picked up his pace. If only he had a weapon, but even if he did he wouldn't want to hurt them. He wouldn't stoop to retaliating and killing them like America had started to do. But there was nothing on his conscience saying he couldn't injure them.
He rounded a corner and pressed his back against the side of a building. It had been a while since he had been in a war zone in this territory. It almost gave him a rush of excitement. But the reasoning behind the war zone's existence only tired him out faster. He could hear a horse and carriage trotting not too far ahead of him.
America had to be in it and he would catch a ride some way or another. He took a deep breath and made his way down the alley towards the entrance. The carriage was in sight and Francis was out of breath a bit as he dove for the back of it. He could feel a sting on the back of his leg. He was hit! Blood trickled down the back of his calf as he forced himself into the back seat.
America looked to him wide eyed and pushed him so that his head was down and out of view. "What the hell are you doing? Do you know how dangerous this is right now?"
Francis winced a bit and held his leg. "I have to talk to you America. I want to tell you the truth."
"Well I'm glad you've decided to come to your senses after all this time. What made you change your mind?" he asked.
Francis sighed and slowly lifted his leg onto the wagon bench. "I disagree with what my government has told me. You have every right to know what is going on."
"Then tell me Francis. Tell me and I'll stop my people for good," he said surely.
Francis nodded and watched as America took a canteen and washed blood off the back of his calf. America then ripped a part of his own shirt sleeve off and tied it tightly around Francis' wound. "His Majesty is afraid that if I give you more room that it will take more money away from the mainland France."
America chuckled as he began wiping up the blood from the seat. "Somehow I'm not surprised at that reason," he said looking up at him. "What else did he say?" he asked knowing that there was something more to it.
Francis winced as he moved his leg down. "He's afraid you might become too powerful and revolt against me if you grow in resources and population. The way you are now...he has a better monitor on you. He doesn't want to give that up."
America looked into his eyes with pure confusion. "He thinks that? What would give him that idea? It's only because of the mainland that we are as prosperous as we are now. Why would I break away from something that is providing us with everything that we need?"
"More and more outside nations are discussing opening trade with Canada and America. Not necessarily through me, but through Spain. I have no control over who he trades with over here, but I don't think Louis wants you or Matthew directly interacting with anyone."
"Afraid we might get ideas in our heads or something?" he asked as if it was something ridiculous.
"Probably," Francis sighed. "But I'm going to take action myself. By letting you have some of the land."
America looked to him a bit suspiciously. "How do I know that this isn't a trap? I mean after all only you and I are here to witness this."
"Would you rather we wait until there was someone else around?" Francis asked.
America looked to him and then away. "It's not that I don't trust you Francis but..."
Francis shook his head. "I understand. I actually don't blame you for feeling this way," he said and slouched down against the seat. "I can take a beating from the king for doing this. But you...it's not your fault that you want something back that originally belonged to you."
America sighed. "Why couldn't you have realized this long ago?" he laughed a little.
"Don't ask questions. Just be happy I'm doing this for you to begin with," Francis grinned.
The next two days the two spent that time traveling across the central lands of the Louisiana country. The one witness and consultant that Francis wanted there when this deal was made had to be Makawee. Not only because she knew a lot more about the land further west, but America would be moving further into her territory if this really were to work.
When they arrived at the border town that Makawee had usually stationed herself, Francis looked to America and climbed out of the carriage carefully.
"You really should have someone take that bullet out of your leg," America said for the twentieth time since he wrapped it up.
Francis laughed. "Don't worry. I have it all under control. The most important thing to me right now is saving both our people from suffering anymore. Oui?"
America nodded his head slowly and followed after him. "I...I guess," he said leading him over to the teepee. "Makawee! If you are home please allow us entrance!"
There was silence for some time before the cloth was pulled back and she looked at the two with curious eyes. "Francis? What happened to your leg?"
He laughed a little and looked up at her. "We can talk about that later. For now I need to ask of you a favor."
"A favor? In this condition? At least let me heal your wounds before we start negotiating business terms," she suggested.
America walked past her and took Francis over to the pile of pillows that were lying on the floor. "Makawee, we are sorry to intrude on such short notice, but I would like to think that this matter is important."
"If you mean Francis' condition then yes, I would have to agree with you," she said softly collecting all of the medical tools. She then moved over to him and untied the shirt sleeved bandage from around his wound, washing it off.
America sat down on the other side of Francis so not to be in the way. He watched the procedure closely and let out a small sigh.
"Your people did this to him, didn't they?" Makawee asked without looking up or stopping as she cut into the wound.
Francis clenched his fists as he felt the skin of his leg open up more and the blood run out of the side. He held back his screams of pain even though he didn't know how much longer he could hold on before passing out.
"How do you know that?" America asked as he looked up at her and away from the bloody sight.
"I recognize this type of wound. The bullet that made it had to come from the guns that your men use. Am I correct?" she asked carefully trying to take the bullet out.
America looked away feeling a bit ashamed even though it wasn't really his fault. If Francis had just done what he asked in the first place then none of them would be in this mess. "Well yes, but I wasn't the one who..."
"Hand me that wet towel, quickly!" she ordered as she now held the bullet between her fingers.
America looked to where she had indicated and dove for the rag, handing it out to her in a sort of panic.
"Wipe up this blood quickly or I won't be able to stitch him up," she said quickly and moved to wipe her hands and prepare the needle.
Francis was gasping for air. He closed his eyes as he felt the sweat trickle down from his scalp towards his eyes. The pain was almost unbearable for him. It felt as if there was a poison running through his body and slowly eating him alive, though he knew that wasn't the case.
"Is he going to be okay? He's losing a lot of blood," America asked as he wiped around and under the wound for her.
"Just think of it as the blood from all of his wounded people," she said softly before moving to connect the first parts of the stitch. "I'm sure this isn't the first time he's felt this pain."
America closed his eyes and turned away as he heard Francis' scream from the needle making its way in and out of his skin. He almost couldn't stand to stay in the room as he felt like the pain was pounding against his own heart.
Makawee looked over to America before quickly returning to her task. She knew that the reason the two were here had to do with America getting more land. But could she really just give it up that easily? Even if Francis made the request as well? Once she finished the stitching and cleaning of the wound she moved to wipe Francis' still face with a clean towel. "Poor thing," she whispered to herself as she felt his faint breathing.
America moved all of the dirty utensils and towels into the cleaning bin he saw her using. He then took a deep breath and stood up. "I'm sorry," he said softly and exited the teepee.
Makawee didn't turn to look at him. She wasn't sure if he was talking to her...or to Francis. Either way, her lips lifted to a small smile.
An hour later Francis stirred in his sleep. He lifted his hand to his head and sat up slowly as a hissing sound escaped his lips. He looked down to see his leg was now properly wrapped up. He looked around the teepee and noticed that he was the only one inside. But the strong aroma of seasoned cooked meat flowed freely through the curtained door. He began to lift himself up by leaning on the small table next to where he was lying. But as soon as he tried to move his leg he slipped and fell backwards causing the table to fall over. "AH!"
Makawee rushed into the teepee and gasped. "Francis! What happened here?" she asked running over and picking the table up.
Francis laughed a little and shook his head. "Apparently the table didn't agree with my idea of getting up."
America chuckled under his breath when he walked in to see what all of the commotion was. "Wow. I thought you were in here having a battle or something."
Francis rolled his eyes and sat up again. "I take it you two had a talk already?"
Makawee nodded. "America explained to me the situation and why it is you two really came here."
America sat down next to Francis and sighed. "Makawee said she agrees to give us some of the land to the northwest that hasn't really been developed. She said it would give me a good opportunity to learn about exploring and developing land on my own."
Francis rubbed his head and looked over to her. "Are you sure you're okay with this? I mean...I don't want you to think that we are forcing you to do anything."
Makawee shook her head. "Of course not. The land to the north is not inhabited anyways. I'm sure the few of my people who do live there would not mind the colonists moving up. If anything it would be more beneficial for them since they are already so far away from the main group."
America nodded in agreement. "So she showed me on the map how far I could go before I was venturing into Antonio's 'territory'."
Francis looked to the map that America handed him and nodded. It was a large circle surrounding where the current Missouri, Iowa, Nebraska, Kansas and half of Oklahoma was. "This is a lot of land America. Do you think you can handle all of that?"
America smiled confidently. "But of course. It's what we've been preparing for."
Makawee stood up and nodded. "Good. I'm glad I was able to help settle this. Now let's get you some food Francis. Don't want you fainting again."
America laughed and stood up as well.
"I didn't faint! I passed out from pain!" he yelled to the two, defending his pride.
Makawee grabbed some bowls for putting the stew in and softly laughed. "I assure you that you were definitely present for the stitching. So it couldn't be anything but fainting."
America continued to laugh as he walked out of the teepee holding his stomach.
Francis looked up at her and smiled. "Thank you Makawee. I couldn't have done this without your help."
Makawee shook her head. "I was only doing what I thought was right. I'm more concerned about you. Does your government know about this new agreement?"
Francis looked away. "No. But I am sure I can convince them that this wasn't a mistake."
Makawee looked towards the curtain door and sighed softly. "I only hope you're right."
~1753 Paris, France January~
It had been a devastating winter for both French people on both the main land and in the American territory. After the revolt with the colonist had been resolved, Francis quickly went to work rebuilding all that was destroyed in the Louisiana country. The only problem was the colonists had done a lot more damage than he imagined.
His people there didn't have enough money or resources to rebuild everything in time for winter. What made things worse was the colonists were advancing fast in the new land that they had inherited. Francis was called to see the Louis sooner than he had planned. He knew he was wrong for him not telling him right away about his decision in giving America the land. But he didn't want it revoked before America even had a chance to try.
He nervously stood outside of the meeting room and paced back and forth. Finally he decided that it was time to go in and face his fate. He opened the door and walked slowly into the meeting room. "Your Majesty, I..."
"Sit," Louis said sharply as he looked up from his papers at Francis. He watched his every move until the country was sitting down in the chair across the table from him. His eyes narrowed even more as the seconds went by. "Explain to me," he said slamming the papers down in front of him. "What this is?"
Francis looked down at the papers and bit his lower lip. "It appears to me to be agreement papers. For the undeveloped land that..."
"Exactly. Agreement papers. Now could you please enlighten me and tell me whose signatures are at the bottom of this document?"
Francis looked to him and then down at the papers again. "Makawee, America and..."
"Yours," he said snatching the papers away. "What makes you think you can make such a major decision on your own? Those colonies belong to ME!"
Francis sighed. "Your Majesty, I apologize. I know it was wrong of me to do this without your permission or the permission of the government. But I assure you that nothing will go wrong. America gave me his word that he had no intention of going against us. And just as he promised, in the past few months all he has been doing is trying to develop his new land."
"This little project of his is costing us way too much money! Do you realize how long it's taking to rebuild all of the things he's torn down and destroyed in Louisiana Country?"
"Yes, your Majesty, I do. I'm there working alongside them to rebuild and..."
"And you ran out of money," Louis said angrily. "So you thought you would casually send a messenger here to ask me for more money?"
"I don't think I would call it casually, but you act as if I wasn't going to tell you about it ever, your Majesty," Francis said nervously.
"And when were you going to tell me? It's been months, Francis!" he yelled standing up from his chair. "So I have decided to come up with my own solution to the problem."
Francis shook his head. "No. No! You can't take that land away from them!"
Louis smirked. "Oh I'm not going to take it away from them. I'm just going to make them pay for it."
"Pay for it?" Francis asked a bit worried.
"Yes," he said holding up some papers. "I've come up with a list of taxes and a few of laws for them. This way we keep control over them and you get the money you need to rebuild."
"Do you really think this will go over well with them?" Francis asked.
Louis handed him the stack of papers. "I could care less. You are going to give them this message from me. And no will not be accepted as an answer."
"But your Majesty..." Francis started.
Louis shoved the papers into his hand. "You're dismissed."
Francis looked down at the papers and sighed, leaving the room without another word. He didn't know how he was going to explain this to America. But he only hoped that this went over well with him.
By the time he had gotten back to the coast of America, somehow the people had heard word of these rumored laws. He wasn't sure how he was going to break it to them that they were indeed real. He had reached the mayor's cabin. He knocked on the door and took a deep breath.
The mayor opened the door and looked to him with a raised eyebrow. "I wasn't expecting a visit from you today, Sir. To what do I owe the pleasure?"
Francis held out the envelope. "I bring a message from King Louis XV."
The mayor took the envelope and looked up at Francis. "Please come in."
Francis shook his head and turned away. "I'm sorry, but I must decline. If you have any questions about the message please do not hesitate to come find me or the officials."
The mayor watched him curiously and then looked to the papers as he walked back into the cabin.
Francis made his way quickly to the French secondary official building and walked in. Of course they were well aware of these new laws. They may have even had a say in the voting and didn't tell Francis.
"Well Monsieur Bonnefoy, I must say it is good to see you survived the wrath of the King," governor Marquis de Vaudreuil-Cavagnal grinned.
"You knew about this plan of his all along didn't you?" Francis asked trying not to sound to upset.
"How could I not? I am a part of the council on the mainland. When the papers got to me I thought it was a superb idea. Taxing the colonists? One only has to wonder why we didn't just do that in the first place."
"You know exactly why," Francis said shortly.
"Come now, Sir. Surely you can't be upset that I didn't tell you? Besides it will teach them a little responsibility."
"How is that?" Francis asked, dying to hear what ridiculous reason he was going to give him.
"Because. If he wants to be treated like an adult then he's going to have to act like one. Oui?"
Francis didn't even know what to say. He had to get out of here and fast. He didn't want to be around when the colonists decided to come over here and raid with anger.
~1753 Quebec March~
Matthew looked up from his bowl of stew upon hearing the knock on his front door. He wiped his mouth as he stood up walking over and opening it.
On the other side, Francis stood looking a little worse than usual. "I hope you aren't busy."
"Brother Francis!" he said in a slight panic and led him into the house. "Where have you been? People have been looking everywhere for you!"
Francis laughed a little and leaned against the stair case. "I know. That's the reason I've been running around so much."
"What's going on? America told me that you finally agreed to give him some of the land. But I also heard that his Majesty was not pleased about this decision."
"He wasn't," Francis said remembering that day all too well. "What all have you heard?"
"Well I know the American colonists are not happy about these new laws of yours. To be taxed right as they are trying to develop a new land. In the winter no less. Don't you think that's a little harsh?" Matthew asked.
Francis nodded. "But it wasn't my idea. I actually had no say in it at all."
Matthew walked into the kitchen and sat down, sighing. "Well you need to tell that to America. He thinks that you're mad at him or something."
"Why would I be mad at him?" Francis asked confused.
"I don't know. He said something about revenge for him destroying a good portion of the Louisiana Country," Matthew explained.
"That's the reason his Majesty did it not me," Francis said and shook his head. "No. The fact of the matter is, Louis didn't want America to have that land. That's what he's really angry about."
"But why? Does he really see him as that much of a threat? I mean, we are a part of your empire. The greatest empire in all of the seas! Why would America risk something so...so stupid?"
Francis sat down and shrugged. "My thoughts exactly. I just hope that he isn't too angry about the whole taxes thing. But I am in desperate need of some money. The rest of the money we are getting from the other colonies are helping us prepare for war."
"War? Again? Brother you must stop. You're going to drive yourself mad."
"It's not me," Francis sighed. "They're the ones who want my power and wealth."
"Who?" Matthew asked curiously.
"Europe."
Matthew laughed at his vague answer and shook his head. "Brother not everyone is your enemy. Besides you should let Antonio and the others take care of this war."
Francis shook his head. "Once Gilbert gets the okay, Arthur is going to jump at the opportunity to fight with me again. And as my pact says if Antonio gets into it...well then I must be there to aid. I'm just worried though. The Spanish have been acting a little weird lately. Development in the land to the south has taken longer than he hoped."
"Is that way he's been moving up north along the coast? Makawee said some of her tribes spotted them setting up camps around there," Matthew shrugged.
"I don't know. But I might have to have a chat with him soon if all of this war talk does actually begin," Francis frowned.
"Brother I'm worried about you. You're biting off way more than you can chew."
"Trust me, Matthew. If I could have the easy life that you have I would take it in a second. But then again I don't think I would want you to have all of the responsibility of war and..."
"Matthew! Matthew where are you!" America's voice came from the entryway.
"Oh no..." Francis whispered. "Maybe I should leave."
"No Brother. You need to talk to him now while you can. While no one else is around," Matthew said as he walked towards the front hall. "I'm here America! Brother is here as well!"
"Francis! Get in here!" America yelled shoving past Matthew. "What the hell is this?" he asked slamming a stack of papers in front of him. "Do you really expect for me to be able to pay these taxes every month? It's bad enough this winter has brought us little to no crops!"
Francis looked at the papers and then looked back up at America. "I'm sorry America...I can't take no for an answer. They'll take the money whether you hand it over peacefully or not."
"And why should I pay for this? You aren't suddenly laying laws and taxes on Matthew! Do you really dislike me that much?"
"No!" Francis yelled standing up suddenly. "His Majesty saw this the only way fit for you to help rebuild what you destroyed!"
"I lent you my men, even though I need them out west. Isn't that good enough?"
"Not when we don't have the money or the resources to continue," Francis sighed. "Do you realize just how much damage was done? I have people without places to live...still! And it's been months!"
"Why can't the mainland just give you money?" America asked finally.
"Because...you have to be responsible for your actions America," Francis frowned turning away from him. "Meaning you have to fix what you've done."
"To be fair," Matthew butted in quietly. "This wasn't Brother's idea. He actually didn't even have a say in it."
"I don't care if the Pope himself wrote this," America said, picking the papers back up and waving them. "I'm sick of people deciding things for me without my permission!"
Matthew took the papers from him and began reading over them. "Original colonies...what does it mean by that?"
Francis turned to face the two. "It means only the people leaving on the east coast, the original colonists, are allowed to have any say when it comes to representing America."
"So the people who are settling in the west are not allowed to have a say in anything?" Matthew asked curiously.
Francis shook his head. "That's what it says."
America shook his head. "All of my people should have a say when it comes to these issues. Or is that another part of the King's plan; to get the people to the west to feel inferior and move back to the coast so they can feel important?"
"I don't know," Francis said truthfully. "But what I do know is you should be careful. If you go against his Majesty...you go against me and your own people on the mainland."
America looked between the two and snatched the papers from Matthew before walking out.
Matthew sighed and shook his head. "I don't know why but I feel so bad for him."
Francis laughed a little and began walking out of the room as well. "Just promise me one thing Matthew."
"Anything," he said softly.
"Don't start a revolt without talking to me first," Francis said before walking out of the house.
Matthew heard the door close and sat back down in his chair. This was going to be a long and miserable winter. For all of them.
~1753 North West American Territory May~
Winter had finally passed and the soil was more abundant than the colonists had expected. Being landlocked and away from the coast, they didn't expect much luck with growing food, just raising and hunting livestock. But much to their surprise it was like a cropping gold mine.
The only problem America now had to deal with now was the even distribution of the colonies money. As much as the colonists wanted to expand to better up their profits, the now "original" colonies were letting the new laws get to their head. They figured that since they were the originals then they could boss the new territories around; giving them only as much money as they thought they needed, which wasn't enough, even when combined with the good trade they were getting with the Canadians and the Indians.
America was exhausted from running back and forth, trying to please everyone while keeping everyone fed and safe at the same time. He hadn't seen or heard word from Francis, but from what he heard from Matthew he was preparing for war again.
This was bad for him because majority of his profits and resources were coming from the mainland. If they decide to pull back to use it for another war, he didn't know what he would do. Francis didn't recommend opening trade with other countries, per the king of course, but it wasn't forbidden.
If things got worse he would have to either pitch the idea or just go along with his gut feeling. America closed the folder and stood up stretching. "Why should I tell them anything? They make decisions for me on their own all the time. What harm would come of me opening trade with other countries?" he asked to no one in particular. He looked around his new cabin that was located at the center of one of the new villages.
It was nice here. The air was fresher, the soil was richer and most of all the weather was becoming more and more spectacular. He opened the window and took in a deep breath. A small smile came to his face and he gazed out at his new settlement.
He squinted his eyes a little and stuck his head out the window. "Is that...smoke?" he asked himself. A grayish cloud and light from a flame came up from the edge of the village. He shook his head and went back into the cabin. It was probably just wood burning. Nothing serious.
Before he could even get back to his seat there was a loud banging noise coming from outside. His front door flew open and a villager ran into the room. "Sir! We have trouble!"
America looked over to him and noticed the fear in his eyes. "What's going on? What happened?"
"It's the Spanish...they're...they're attacking!" the young men said terrified.
"What?" America said rushing out the door and looking to where the smoke was coming from. It was thickening. "Could that be...gunpowder?"
The young man ran up behind him and nodded. "They've been kidnapping the women and demanding that we leave this land for it will soon belong to them anyways."
"You've got to be kidding me," America said as he ran out towards the edge of town.
(Thanks for reading! Look out for Chapter 4 titled Seven Years' War - Re modified coming soon!
Also some footnotes about things, historical names, and places used in this chapter:
1) Governor Pierre François de Rigaud, Marquis de Vaudreuil-Cavagnal was governor of French Louisiana (1743–1753) and in 1755 became the last governor of New France .
/wiki/Pierre_Fran%C3%A7ois_de_Rigaud,_Marquis_de_Vaudreuil-Cavagnal
2) The soon to be war that Francis and Matthew are referring to is the Seven Year's War (aka in North America as the French and Indian War).
3) King Louis XV ruled as King of France and of Navarre from 1 September 1715 until his death on 10 May 1774.
/wiki/Louis_XV_of_France )
