Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Look who nerded out in fanfic form again. This is a very simplified version of events, not taking into account American Tories or Native Americans or Canada or Lafayette or my boy Kosciuszko or lots of other stuff. I intend no disrespect.
Thanks for the reviews and favorites and suchlike. And to the anon who left the seriously amazing reviews of love: I appreciate you like whoa.
The library in the tower was mostly full of books about science and Howard Stark's archives, but it was usually a good place to get some work done because nobody spent much time there. Except today, for some reason; Thor was waiting relatively patiently for Darcy to finish an online assignment and Clint was hanging around touching everything because apparently he was extremely bored. But he was being quiet, and that was all she asked for until she got through this one…last…problem. With a sigh of relief she submitted the work and closed her laptop, saying, "I'm so glad tomorrow's a holiday and I have a legit excuse not to do anything."
"I have heard much about this holiday on the morrow. What is its significance?"
"It's Cap's birthday," Clint answered swiftly, a model of an atom in one hand.
Thor looked impressed. "And the whole of Midgard feasts in his honor?"
"Yep."
"No," Darcy corrected, glaring at Clint. She usually didn't mind pulling the wool over Thor's eyes, but this one was kind of a big deal. "Clint, can you go somewhere else while I give Thor a history lesson?"
"I don't see why I should leave. It's a free country," he said mulishly.
"Exactly. Get out." She drew herself up to her full height and pointed—it probably didn't help that the direction she'd dramatically flung her arm in was toward a window—but eventually he left, still pouting and still holding the model. "C'mere, bud," she told Thor, and as he ambled over to the big table she shoved her computer away and pulled down the big atlas, opening it to a world physical map.
"This is all Midgard. See, here are mountains, and there are deserts over in Africa, and here's the Amazon River. Looks pretty nice, huh?" She flipped the page to a political map. "Midgard's not just one thing, though; it's made up of lots of smaller areas we call countries. They're like kingdoms, except not all of them have a king."
His brow furrowed. "How can a kingdom have no king?"
"Many countries get to choose their own leaders. Like in the United States"—she circled the country with a finger—"the people get to choose the leader, and he's called the president."
"How do they know whom to choose? Do the pretenders engage in feats of arms, and the strongest becomes president?"
Darcy had to laugh a little, imagining the politicians in Washington having wrestling matches. "No, mostly they just talk a lot and we try to decide who's lying the least. It's not a perfect system by a long shot, but we do our best.
"Now when we talk about the Fourth of July being a holiday, it's only a holiday for us in the U.S., and it's really called Independence Day. About 400 years ago, people from different parts of Europe, but mostly England"—she tapped the country—"came here and settled. They started towns and farms all along the east coast."
Thor leaned closer to the map, peering at Great Britain. "This England is so small compared to your United States."
"It is. But back then, England was one of the richest, most powerful countries in the world. And it's still important today. You can't judge things based only on how big or small they are." She glared playfully at him.
"Yes, Darcy," he answered obediently.
"The English thought that their king and Parliament—that's a group of people who make laws—had the right to tell the people here what to do, what taxes to pay and all that. But people here didn't agree. They said that no one in the government in England was listening to them, and that it wouldn't be fair to send them money if England didn't care about what happened in the colonies."
Thor was the son of a king. The whole revolution thing probably wasn't going to go over well with him, but Darcy kept on trucking. "Some of the leaders in the colonies said that we should be a separate country. It didn't really make sense for people thousands of miles away to tell us what to do; even some English people believed that: one English writer, Thomas Paine, said 'Everything that is right and reasonable cries for separation.' Of course King George and Parliament disagreed, and taxation got worse, and the colonial leaders said 'Taxation without representation is tyranny!' Eventually enough people supported the idea that we should separate, and they wrote a letter to the king to tell him so."
"But he was their king! The people owed him fealty!" He looked upset, no doubt thinking of his own father back in Asgard.
Darcy shook her head. "They didn't see it that way. The whole feudal system was way over by then, so fealty wasn't even a thing anymore anyway. Lots of colonists thought of themselves as Americans, not English, and they were tired of all their money going to support wars way over in Europe. They felt abused by the government. So Thomas Jefferson wrote what's called the Declaration of Independence, and on July 4th, 1776, representatives of the thirteen colonies approved it. So now in the U.S. we celebrate the Fourth as the day we declared independence from England."
"And the king allowed this?" There was outrage in his voice, and Thor pounded his fist against the tabletop. "He allowed this…rebellion via post?"
"Of course not. We had to fight a war for our freedom. It took seven years, but in the end, the Americans won, and we became a new country." She couldn't help feeling proud, thinking of the colonists overcoming the odds against them, all those well-trained and well-equipped British troops and Hessian mercenaries.
Thor's expression, on the other hand, was grave, and maybe even a little disappointed in her. Ouch. "I do not know if I can celebrate such a holiday. It is a terrible thing to betray one's king."
"It is a terrible thing for a king to betray his people," she shot back. Darcy took a deep breath and continued more calmly, "I get where you're coming from, and I haven't explained it really well, but it's one of the most important events in our history. So if you can't deal with it, fly back to Asgard for the day. But at least read the Declaration of Independence for yourself first, and let the people who were there explain their actions. Deal?" She stuck her hand out.
His eyes blazed with anger. He should not have been surprised that brash Darcy would scoff at the bonds between ruler and subject, but that a whole mass of people should rise against their rightful king was abominable. Still, he was willing to try to understand her point of view, so he shook hands with her.
Darcy turned to the shelves and pulled down a thick history book. Leafing through it, she found the text and set the book in front of Thor. Then she took her laptop and left him to read in peace.
It wasn't overly long, and the style reminded him of some of the more boring writings from Asgard. Thor found himself nodding in agreement with some of the statements, and the list of grievances certainly bore reflecting on. And then he read a line that struck him as familiar:
A Prince, whose character is thus marked by every act which may define a Tyrant, is unfit to be the ruler of a free people.
Darcy looked up when Thor came in. He wore the same thoughtful look she remembered from after he'd been in New Mexico a few days.
"It was a wise man who wrote this Declaration," he said quietly. "A country would be glad to have such strong wits in its service."
Darcy smiled. "Good old T.J."
He knelt humbly in front of her chair. "Darcy, I apologize for doubting you. I would be honored to celebrate this holiday with all of you."
"We're honored to have you. I'm glad you came around; I wasn't going to say anything, but Steve would've been pretty bummed if you missed his birthday. And you're gonna love the fireworks."
He did, of course, but not only for the colored lights and noise. Those were things he could have created himself. But standing on the balcony, surrounded by his fellow warriors, their profiles lit by flashes above the river, the fireworks were more than a pretty display. They reminded him of the story Darcy told him: of the power that the people of Midgard could wield when so they chose, of the strength of their resolve, of the determination of those who fought to protect their homes, of his own small place in their world. They reminded him of a nation's heroes past, and for that he loved them.