And this is the next chapter! Enjoy!

Just a note, the AN on the last chapter should say that the Merthyr Tydfil uprising was by far not the last time discontent would surface in Wales; that was a typo. Hope you can forgive me.

I don't own Hetalia!end/AN/

"I told you he was infuriating."

Canada gave America a long suffering glare, pausing in his carving of the small piece of wood in his hand. "And I told you, if you're going to stay around my home, you're going to have to be quiet."

America ignored him, continuing on. "He treats you as though he loves you, then he leaves and demands a bunch of money and doesn't let you have a say. He's sort of a bastard, really."

Looking down at the bear statue he was making, Canada couldn't deny that some of the words rang true. England felt stifling now, acting as though he had him under his thumb and there was nothing he could do about it. "Well, he's still the one in charge; he's the empire, and I have to listen to him."

America raised his eyebrows, sighing and saying, "You should consider your options; I'm not making any promises, but… there's always a place for you at my house. You wouldn't have to be alone, if you wanted to leave."

It was an incredibly sensitive statement, for America, and Canada looked over, met by sincere blue eyes. However, an appropriate answer evaded him, and he quickly looked away. He… sort of wanted to. Just them, together again, without an overbearing England to fight with. Somehow, the pain between them seemed far away, and a vague, happy future stretched out in front of Canada. But he shook his head, clearing it of such ridiculous thoughts. "I can't; you know I can't."

Voice a little sterner, America replied, "You mean you won't. You didn't even like him in the beginning; what is so different now?"

Canada pursed his lips, trying to come up with a response. It was hard to explain to someone like America, who believed in not keeping things around that you didn't like. Of course, he hadn't always been that way; he used to scare Canada by telling him he would go to Hell for dancing and singing.

But what to tell him? "I think… You see, America, I have a duty. I have to go along with what he wants; I can't just rebel. That's irresponsible."

America snorted, half-frowning, half-laughing, it seemed. "Oh, look who's decided to get on their high horse; you're no better than I am. I just had the guts back then to do something about my situation."

Canada clenched his teeth, scowling like a morbid preacher at America. He did not like being told, in so many words, that he was a coward compared to America. It wasn't true; it was just smarter to do things this way! "Well, at least I'm trying to talk it out, before I do something like dumping tea in a harbor."

A laugh was barked out, but America looked a little less than amused. "You're just teasing me, aren't you? Or do you just have a really bad memory? I tried all the normal routes before having a war; what, do you think I'm crazy?"

"Yes." It sort of slipped out, and Canada sort of regretted it at the frown on America's face. "Well… you would have to be crazy to take on the empire. You should have just taken your lumps and been satisfied with your lot when all other measures didn't work out."

"Uh huh. Is that what you're going to do?"

It made Canada uncomfortable, the scrutiny of his plans. He focused on the bear, carefully carving a nose of just the right shape. "England's learned this time."

Another careful shave off the nose. "He'll know not to just ignore me."

Tiny, tiny shave right there… "He's smarter now."

"If you want to believe that… But Canada," And here America looked him in the eyes, forcing him to look away from his project, "you've forgotten something important."

Canada's eyebrows crinkled. What on earth could America mean by that? He'd remembered everything, and had been thinking about nonviolent ways to achieve his ends; there was nothing that hadn't been at least momentarily considered. "What?"

Not even blinking, eyes seeming to pierce through to the back of Canada's skull, America replied, "You're not me." Then he moved away, eyes softening back to their normal happiness and gazing about the woods. "When are you going to cut down that huge pine? It looks like it is practically dead to me."

But Canada was just staring ahead. It was the fatal flaw:

He was not America, and thus, would not be taken seriously.

Hell.

He wanted someone else to be here.

Not that Australia would ever tell England, of course, but… the house was lonely, with just the two of them. Especially when England left. Truth be told, he'd been happy when Ireland had left, but now he wished she would come back already.

So, naturally, he was standing outside and brushing Liz, England's mare. She was a wonderful horse, with far more easily readable feelings than any human. That was the great thing about animals; they could love simply, and without strings attached or anything silly like that. And they could be loved back just as easily, if you treated them right.

Liz was one of those such animals, and Australia could practically feel the happiness coming off of her as she was paid attention to for the first time in what must have been a while; England hardly went riding anymore.

"You're a pretty horse, you know?" he informed her, patting her side as she snuffled through her nose. Chestnut-brown with a white stripe down her forehead; Australia couldn't have imagined a more beautiful horse. He moved on to stroking her head, smiling a small, rarely-seen smile as he did.

"I wish you were mine; I would take you out in the pasture every day. And you wouldn't have to pull a cart ever again." But he would keep her safe, and in the stable or pasture all the time. Horses shouldn't have to be afraid of all the noise and bustle of a city, or strange new faces.

Liz seemed to agree with him, flicking her tail placidly at some flies.

"And I would make sure you were brushed every day; you'd like that, wouldn't you?" Of course she would. The poor old mare needed attention, like any creature did. Australia pressed a kiss to her snout, though he was glad no one was around to see it; they might consider it a bit strange.

"Australia! What are you doing with my horse?"

Australia whipped around, shocked, as Liz whinnied. "England, sir, I wasn't doing anything, she just needed a brush is all!"

England strode up decisively, shoes making imprints on the dirty ground. His eyes were hard as he looked down at Australia, and he seemed still a head and a half taller. "So, I suppose you've got me wondering: who gave you permission to come and cavort about in my stable with my horse?"

Chewing on his lip, even though it was sore, Australia was hard pressed to find a good answer. He had a feeling not a lot would make a difference at this point. "Well, she's lonely, sir."

England barked out a laugh, rolling his eyes and saying, "Please. A horse can hardly be lonely like a person is; besides, I use her every week. Even if she really had emotions like a person, that's plenty for an old mare like her."

"It is not!" Australia felt a thrill of horror, but the angry expression stayed on his face. England didn't understand that animals needed love too, like anybody! And it made him brave enough to stand here and scowl at him defiantly.

England looked rather like Australia had tried to punch him in the teeth; that expression was quickly replaced with an angry, eye-twitching one. "How- How dare you! You do not defy me!"

The voice, which was clearly an elder scolding a young, impressionable child, brought Australia's blood up a few more degrees. "I am not a baby, don't talk to me like I am!"

Gaping for a moment, as though looking for the words, England adopted a sneer. "You think you're all grown up now, and you can talk back? Well, let me tell you something; no matter how big you get, no matter how smart you think you are, I will always be the one in charge, and you can't change that!"
Australia stamped his foot in frustration. England didn't get where he was coming from at all. Did he think every colony thought like America did or something? "I don't care about that! Don't treat me like a child, I just want to be treated like an adult!"

England blinked, and then crossed his arms. "Fine. Then pack your things and go. See if I care."

The abrupt change brought Australia's anger to a crashing halt. What…? Leave? He couldn't leave, where the hell would he go? He nervously traced a circle in the dirt, saying, "I-I mean… I just want a little consideration, that's all, I just… I'm not the same person I was…"

However, England seized his arm, pulling him towards the door of the barn. "Oh no, I understand; you think because you are a bigger piece of land than me, you should get more of a say; well, I assure you, when it's only you, all alone on that hunk of earth, you'll get as much say as you want. At least, until someone else comes along and colonizes you."

Fear gripped Australia's chest like ice, filling up the inside and making the chill run through him. Good lord, England was serious, wasn't he? "No, no, wait, that's not what I meant at all! Please, England, I didn't mean it!"

"Oh, didn't you?" England was positively casual about this, except for the way he was rather heavy-handedly dragging Australia towards the house. "I think this is exactly what you meant; you'd rather strike out on your own, wouldn't you?"

What would happen to him, all alone? Who would come along and take him over? There was too much that could happen, too many evil nations in the world! No one would care for him ever again if England made him leave! Australia dragged his heels on the ground, trying to slow England and reason with him. "No! I don't want to! Stop this, it isn't funny!"

That just made England chuckle, shaking his head. "No, I'm listening to you now, treating you like an adult, am I not? This is how you want to be treated, isn't it?" He pushed open the door, pulling Australia through it and shoving him towards the stairs. "Go on then, go pack your things up."

Australia fell onto his hip, the flesh between his hip bone and the stair being sharply pinched. However, this was a mild concern; England couldn't send him away! Where would he go? What would he do? He was too young, too small, he couldn't make it on his own! "England, please, I don't want to go! Don't make me leave!"

England didn't even bother looking at him, saying rather casually, "It is your own choice; I'm hardly making you do anything."

It was only after a moment Australia realized his nose was turning wet, as well as his eyes. "Please, I promise I'll never do it again, please!"

Tsking, England looked down on him, as though he were speaking insincerely. "Promises can be broken, can't they? Haven't you promised never to disobey me? Yes, you did, yet here we are. I don't suppose I'd be likely to want to take that risk again."

A promise to never disobey may or may not have been made; Australia was beyond caring, as he seized England's hand, voice hiccupping and seizing up with tears. He couldn't be left alone, England was all he had! "Please, I'm sorry, I was wrong to disobey, please forgive me! I swear I will never do it again, ever! Please, you can't make me leave!"

England's fingers lay limply in Australia's hands, silence reigning except for the sound of Australia's muted tears.

Australia's whole body shook with fear, the terror of being left alone sunk into his very bones; he couldn't be separated from the only person who still loved him, not again, not ever again… "Please… Please, I'm sorry…"

A hand descended on his hair, smoothing down his cowlicks best as was humanly possible. "I know you are. I forgive you; stop fussing so."

It was a like a dam had burst however, as relief flooded Australia's system. He tried to stifle it, and only ended up wiping at his face while crying like a baby. He couldn't quite describe how scared he had been; he only knew it was a horror reserved for nightmares turned to life.

England sighed, stroking back Australia's hair more, and also keeping him at arm's length. "Try and get control over yourself, child." It wasn't harsh, though, more like he had to make his disapproval clear for political reasons or something.

Maybe he would have been angry at being called a child before; but now he welcomed it. It was what England wanted, perhaps even why he was still here. Though an innate part of him yearned to grow and excel, maybe he had to tone it down for England; maybe he just had to live with being young forever. "I'm sorry sir…"

England said nothing more, only waiting until he calmed down to send him off to cook supper. There were no further words on the subject.

"Stop stewing already; if he doesn't listen, you're going to have to make a mature decision."

Canada gave America a half-hearted glare, giving the stew another stir. "It's not your business what I decide; and 'mature' does not mean 'rebellious', by the way; you may think it's the only way to grow, but it's not."

America gave a snort, coming over to take a look at the concoction cooking over the fire; he seemed to think he was going to get a share or something of the sort. "Of course it's the only way to grow. How often do you see a fully-grown nation completely under someone else's thumb?"

Canada's eyebrows lowered, as he thought. "Well… What about… um… Poland?" It was the best he could think of, and he was lucky to know that much. Eastern Europe was not exactly a popular topic of study to France. It was just the fact that Canada had begged to know about the world that France had given him material on the topic.

"He's not a full-grown country, actually; He was once upon a time, but he became younger when he was not a country anymore. Anyway, he'd think you rebelling was a good idea; he liked my idea to become a country." America seemed determined to turn everything in his favor, as he watched the stew cook over Canada's shoulder.

Rolling his eyes, Canada gave a vicious stir to the stew. "Other countries just thought it was really interesting, that's all; that, or they didn't like England. It has nothing to do with your intelligence or ingenuity, if you even know what those words mean."

Sounding a little shocked at Canada's sharp tongue, America replied, "I see you're taking after England, are you? You think you're smarter than me, just because you can stand there and make sniping comments? Here's a revelation: I'm the one happy and free. That's more than you can say for yourself, right?"

Flushing, Canada turned around to glare. "I'm not taking after England, you don't know what you're talking about! I'm nothing like him, and I'm perfectly happy where I am, thank you very much!" It was a blatant lie, one that even America was sure to see through.

And he did, as he shook his head at Canada pityingly. "You can't tell me you're happy if you're still trying to get him to treat you fairly; I'm not stupid, no matter what you think. I can tell when a relationship is going sour, and that's why I got out of there like my tail was on fire."

It was hard to ignore; America couldn't be said to be a great nation, but he was reasonably happy, wasn't he? England wasn't fair, he wouldn't correct the problems in their relationship for the better; but Canada didn't know it would stay that way. It could take a while for communication between the two of them sometimes, which was hardly England's fault.

"You don't know that he's not going to listen; you don't know that he hasn't changed," Canada insisted, lifting the ladle up to blow on its contents and take a sip. Mmm. Good and savory, just as bear meat always should be.

"And you don't know that he will. All that I'm going to say is, don't be surprised when he acts like a bastard." America didn't continue, instead leaving Canada's side and returning to his seat by the window.

Canada glared into the stew, left to dwell on America's words and try to dissuade himself of their truthfulness. He didn't want to leave; he just wanted to be treated fairly. There was no way it would come to rebellion… right?

/AN/ Well, not a lot happened in the English-speaking world during 1835… so yes, none of this is based off of a specific event. However, historically, Australia has been more, well, attached to England (Britain, whatever) than Canada. I figure this is because Australia is so much more removed from Europe than Canada is, and therefore relied more on the empire for protection from 'heathen' influences.

The next chapter should be longer, as a certain other character will be making an appearance.