First off thanks again for all the lovely reviews! Also to the non-FF reviewer KaitoAngel, along with those who fluently speak French; if you see an error in the language it's probably a typo on my end. I get all my translations from my friend Sara who majored in French language, literature and studies. Only problem is the translations are all relayed the phone, so as you can guess-I sometimes get them wrong.
I'd go back and fix it, but I hate clogging up my reader's inbox with updates for fixing one typo.
Very sorry for the delay you guys. Things are busy. I want to finish this story strong, but that might mean slower updates, or faster ones at the cost of story progression. I have been having a hard time finding motivation. Just, bleh on my writing. BLEH ON IT.
Happy Fourth of July in advance to my fellow Americans! Vive la revolution…Or something. Stay safe!
There were only a few things that could reduce Alfred, the (soon to be) United States of America to a shy and awkward mess. Unfortunately he had a new one to add to that very small list. Parties-Or more specifically, overly elaborate French parties that involved all kinds of important people.
Francis had assured him that the expensive dress and food were common at the royal court. A playground for the wealthy to indulge in decadent living. Or that's what Francis had called it, before he was whisked off by some well dressed women and had left Alfred to fend for himself.
So that's why he was currently standing in a corner and watching as his delegates intermingled with various French people. None of which he could recall off the top of his head. Ben was also speaking with John Adams, who was being oddly quiet for once. Washington was off to the side, speaking with Lafayette, who he seemed to be attached at the hip with lately.
It left him feeling isolated and alone in a sea of expensive finery and important people. Hadn't Francis said something about meeting 'some very good' friends of his?
Maybe it had just been a ploy to get him to dress up like he was. Alfred drew the line at wearing a wig. Neither Washington nor Franklin were wearing one, and he sure wasn't about to. The thought of having a wig on, smothering Nantucket made him shiver.
"Wow you are so not impressive."
Alfred stiffened at the unfamiliar voice, and slowly turned around to see who it was that had spoken.
His eyes widened when he was faced with…What was he? A man stood there, in an intimidating military uniform, but it wasn't his clothes that had caught Alfred by surprise. Rather the way he looked. From snow white hair to equally pale skin-The man looked like a gh-No, not going there.
Blue eyes clashed with red, and Alfred squirmed under the scrutiny in that gaze. He felt like a bug about to be squished by a boot.
Finally he found his voice.
"Were you talking to me?"
The albino rolled his eyes and stepped forward, slowly circling Alfred as he took the blond in. "Don't see anyone else sulking in a corner."
Alfred huffed indignantly. "I was not sulking." He put emphasis on the word 'not.' Despite the warm air in the Versailles, goose bumps rose up all along his skin. This was probably how a rabbit felt before the wolf swooped in for the kill.
"Knock it off." Alfred did not like this man one bit. Who was he to just sneak up behind him and start rolling out insults?
Surprisingly enough the man did stop, and grinned. "You've got some backbone! Maybe not a complete loss after all."
"Have we met?" Alfred's voice was completely flat, and he decided to inch off to the side so he could keep this stranger in his view at all times.
The albino puffed out his chest and seemed to grow even taller. "You'd remember if you had ever gotten the chance to bask in my pre-"
"Gilbert!"
The all too smug man was interrupted from his introduction when Francis bounced back over and greeted him enthusiastically, with air-kisses and all. Or had those been real kisses? It wouldn't surprise Alfred if they were.
"I see you've met our Amérique." Francis continued on, clearly having had a few drinks if the content flush and extra energy were any indication.
Alfred cleared his throat, "Not really no."
The man-Apparently Gilbert shrugged his shoulders, but both he and Francis continued on as if Alfred hadn't said a single thing. "I'm all for getting back at eyebrows, but are you sure he's our best shot?" One thumb jerked in Alfred's general direction, who was bristling by now.
"Oui, and you'll see it soon. Didn't you read the documents that were sent over?"
Gilbert snorted, and Francis laughed. Apparently he hadn't read any documents. Then Alfred was no longer alone, an arm casually draped across his shoulders as a mellow voice spoke close to his ear.
"It's been a long time mi hijo."
Alfred froze and slowly tilted his head, just enough to where his gaze could take in the owner of that voice. With Spain standing there, standing so close…Francis and Gilbert became background noise.
"Spain." His voice was quiet, and those green eyes connected with his own. A smile tugged at Antonio's lips, but there was a hint of malice beneath the cheery expression.
"Do you not remember Spanish?"
Alfred felt like he was being tested. With a thick tongue and dry throat he nodded, mustering up a smile to match that of the Spaniard's. "España. ¿Cómo estás?" The forced politeness almost had him gagging on the words.
A moment after, the dark undertone to Antonio's smile vanished and in its place was the clueless joy that so often permeated his moods. "Muy bien!" Antonio then pulled Alfred into a full hug, one hand straying up to pet at his hair.
"Ah but how you've grown! Sweet little América no more." Antonio sounded rather disappointed as he said so. Meanwhile Alfred blanched, and subtly tried to escape his grasp, inhaling sharply when Antonio's fingers curled around Nantucket and then smoothed it down.
He somehow managed to slip from Antonio's grasp, who seemed lost in memories anyway and turned to find both Francis and Gilbert watching. One with open amusement, the other with visible jealousy; the latter of which walked over and linked his arm with Alfred's.
Francis, holding Alfred close to his side smiled at the fellow nations, "Spain, Prussia-America." The introduction wasn't necessary, but Francis did enjoy when he had control of the situation.
Both Prussia and Spain were staring at him, and France's fingers were digging into his arm. It was an unsettling feeling to be the center of attention like this. Or maybe it was just Gilbert's red eyes. Yeah, that was probably it.
"You both are going to help me?" Alfred asked with disbelief coloring his words. Prussia was someone he was unfamiliar with, and Spain…He had thought that Antonio would still hate him for all that had transpired between them. Well between them because of England.
Spain had a lazy smile on his face, his focus drifting off to the dancing couples. "Sí." Apparently that was all he had to say as he walked off towards a group of what looked like gossiping women.
That left Alfred with an albino staring a hole through him, and a Frenchman cutting off the circulation to his forearm. He looked up from the floor and returned the stare.
For a few tense moments all they did was gaze at one another, each unwilling to back down. Then Gilbert laughed and walked forward, close enough to clap a hand on Alfred's other shoulder-The one not brushing against Francis's own.
"I'll start training with you tomorrow. I hear we're setting sail soon."
Alfred swallowed, eyes widening. "Training?" He glanced over to Francis whose lips were pressed into a thin line. "What are we training for?"
Gilbert looked bored already. "Because untrained farmers worked out so well for you last time." He turned and walked away, much like Spain had a moment ago.
Blood rushed to Alfred's face and he moved to step forward so he could knock some sense into that egotistical jerk, but Francis stopped him. He turned to face Francis, anger causing his muscles to tense and fingers curl into fists.
"Let me go."
Francis arched one brow, lowering his head slightly and effectively defusing Alfred with a stern look.
"I don't want his help." Alfred mumbled, glaring at the back of Prussia as he paraded about like he owned the place.
Francis lightly smacked Alfred on the back of the head, only enough to get his attention back. "You need him. His generals are some of the best, and any enemy of Angleterre's should be a friend to you." For now at least, but Francis didn't feel the need to remind Alfred of the ever-changing politics between nations.
With a heavy sigh Alfred nodded his head. "Alright. He just creeps me out." Maybe it was because in a way all three of these nations reminded him of Arthur.
Spain, France, Prussia-They all had that air of an old world power to them. They acted like they could do anything, and Alfred was almost convinced that they could. It was the way they walked, and how they spoke. Maybe all Europeans acted like they were superior to everyone else.
"…and perhaps later you will come to appreciate all that we're doing." Alfred slipped out of his thoughts, and realized that Francis had been speaking to him the whole time.
The older nation gazed at him expectantly, and Alfred just blinked a few more times. "Uh-Yeah I'm sure I will."
Francis's eyes narrowed. No doubt he suspected that Alfred hadn't heard a single word he'd just said, but he'd let it slide this time. Besides this was a time to celebrate, and to enjoy the newly formed alliance between them. All of them.
"I cannot help but notice you've been less than enthusiastic ma petite colonie." Francis carefully moved them to the outer edge of nobility, to where they could speak more privately. With a concerned frown Francis reached up and briefly ran his fingers across Alfred's chest, where the burn lurked just beneath the fine blue silk.
Alfred felt his face heat up and stepped back a little from Francis, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. "I've just…I've got this sort of uneasy feeling."
His vague answer didn't make Francis feel any better. "About what?" He placed both hands on Alfred's shoulders, forcing the teen to look him in the face as he spoke.
"Ever since the burnings, I've been tired, but it feels wrong. Like there's something going on that I should know about." A shiver ran down his spine. "I'm missing something, and I feel like I'm just waiting for the pin to drop."
Francis slid one hand along Alfred's shoulder and up his neck to just beneath his chin. "Cher Alfred, it could mean a number of things." His voice was calm, explanation reasonable as he explained so to America. "When the time comes we will deal with it."
Alfred didn't look convinced, if the frown and wrinkle between his eyebrows were any indicator. A moment later the worry was gone, and Alfred was smiling. "You're right."
"When am I ever not?" Francis winked good naturedly.
The wink got a laugh out of Alfred, "Don't even wanna go down that road." Alfred pulled away from a stunned Francis, who shook aside the momentary stupor.
"What did Angleterre tell you?" Francis cried out after Alfred.
Arthur usually loved sailing. Unfortunately he was having a hard time enjoying himself on this particular journey. Whatever awaited him in Europe, it wouldn't-couldn't be anything good. He wasn't sure if it would be worse to discover Alfred with that slimy frog, or not.
On one hand he'd know where the git had been hiding and it'd make taking him home all the easier. On the other…There was no telling what his time with Francis had been like in the growing weeks, and whether or not he'd convinced the romantic fool to do something idiotic.
Like support another revolution.
Arthur scoffed at the thought and decided that it was a ridiculous thing to consider. What could Alfred possibly have to entice Francis into fighting his war? One that had finished long ago.
They still had a long journey left until they reached Europe.
Short chapter and I'm sorry for that. This was my first time ever writing Spain or Prussia. I hope I got them somewhat right. Not really much to say historically speaking here. Prussia helped immensely in the Revolutionary war, and will hopefully do so again for Alfred in this story. One of his Generals worked directly with Washington in fact. He would have been disregarded by the soldiers due to his personal preferences were it not for George speaking on his behalf.
Spain's animosity should be obvious. HIS ARMADA. That and lands lost in the new world to England. I could see him holding some of that anger towards Alfred for his native people didn't take too kindly to the missionaries and whatnot. Either way I think Spain is a deeper character than most give him credit for.
Please do leave a review, I adore hearing from everyone!