A/N Thanks, Mr. Orange Bliss (I'm glad that you enjoy my writing so much~ It makes me hopeful that I can write (: Note: I do know your username has no spaces, but FFN is acting up on me T_T) and Crow Song (A fellow Minnesotan! I'm glad I'm not the only one on this site! lol Same with Mr. Orange Bliss' username, I can't get the name to save without spaces D:), for your wonderful reviews! They're what kept me writing this :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers.
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Prompt 3: "Name"
When the strange white man stared into his eyes, he asked him for a name – with no response, the man grinned and smoothly said, "I know, you'll be known as Clotaire Beaulieu from here on out."
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Minnesota rested his head on the blond man's shoulder as the two made their way back to France's camp. The sun was setting. His eyes were closed; he was feigning sleep so he wouldn't have to deal with the older man's constant cooing anymore. It was all so odd how easily he gave in to the Frenchman's advances – it was as though Minnesota wanted to go with him.
"Hé, look who I found wandering by the riverbank," the young boy could hear France whisper to his men when they finally found their way back. Judging by the simultaneous gasps, Minnesota guessed that the group were surprised to see someone like him in the arms of someone like their leader. He so badly wanted to smirk, but he fought that urged and gently shifted in his fake sleep.
"You-you caught one of them?" one of the men squeaked as they all hunched around France to examine the boy. Most were commenting on his small size and his long, naturally black hair, causing Minnesota to nuzzle into France's chest, earning a few more gasps of amazement. However, a crisp click of a tongue sounded through the young boy's ears—he had to use up all of his willpower to keep from breaking his disguise as an innocent victim.
"Tch, so you caught a savage. What are you going to name it?" Minnesota felt confused, but made no signs of showing it. 'What's a "savage"? And my name is Sky-tinted water(1),' he thought with a hint of bewilderment. The men hitched their breath, including France, and Minnesota tensed up unwillingly. Suddenly, the men were speaking in their strange tongue again, but with much more ebbed tones. With a tinge of confidence, the little boy opened an eye slightly and saw his captor with anger on his face.
"Ta gueule!(2)" he said hastily. Minnesota shut his eye—he could feel all eyes were on him once more. "Il est juste un garçon(3)." The blond shook his head then. His expression softened as he nudged at the boy, who relaxed at the gentle notion. "You must realize, he's not only a boy, he's a territory~" Then, the men were at it in their strange language again.
Minnesota wanted to smack himself in the forehead; their words were dizzying to follow. 'They sound like a bunch of gazhagayns(4), cunning and smooth,' he thought as he tried to follow the conversation as best as he could. A few times, a word he understood was spoken, but he mainly guessed the entire discussion. After what seemed like an eternity, the men ceased their talking abruptly. Sensing the tension in the group, Minnesota remained still in France's arms and stayed that way until he could feel his body being lowered onto something soft. More fiery words were exchanged between the men when a blanket was placed on top of his body.
"Ta gueule, Jacques, or you might wake the little one," an unfamiliar voice broke out in a grunt. Jacques scoffed, but said no more after that. Minnesota couldn't help but smile—'Whoever this "Jacques" is sounds like a jackass,' he thought smugly. His grasp on consciousness was slipping with each passing second ('How long have I been awake?'). Trying to contain a yawn to avoid any interrogation from the group, Minnesota curled up into a ball and allowed sleep to take over his exhausted body.
-.-
The sun slowly rose from the east, bringing a soft, burning light to the camp. The young boy stretched out his arms upon feeling a beam of red warming his cheeks. He emitted a yawn, completely unaware of his surroundings. He tried to stretch his legs, but he kicked something long and hard. 'What the-?' He tensed up immediately when he opened his eyes all the way and saw the strange blond man from the other day laying by his feet. His face expressed pain when Minnesota's feet jabbed his face.
"Ouch! Ugh..." France shoved the small feet out of his face groggily and rubbed his nose. The boy pulled his legs close to his chest as he sat upright and stiffened. He tightly clenched the oceanic blue quilt when the Frenchman balled his fist and yawned. As if yesterday's events hit him like a bullet, France straightened up in an elegant posture and he turned his head towards the little binoojiing. A smile crept up on his face—('What is it with this guy and his smiles?').
"Bonjour, comment allez-vous(5)?" he greeted pleasantly. Minnesota kept his mouth shut; he didn't remember that it was he who gave himself in to France's care. And even if he did, he couldn't speak French. France, coming out of his sleepy state, realized his error and chuckled embarrassingly to himself. "My apologies, you're probably better understanding at English, non~?" The boy didn't respond, which made the blond shake his head in disbelief.
"You must be able to speak some sort of language, right?" His mouth was glued shut into a thin line. Sensing his rebellion, France sighed with chagrin. "Well, may I at least know your name? It'll make things easier for the both of us." Minnesota tilted his head questioningly, which made the blond hopeful that he managed to get some sort of reply out of the Native.
"Mni," Minnesota emitted quietly after a pause of elongated silence. It was France's turn to tilt his head. He thought deeply about the word, knowing he'd heard it from a tribe that his group had recently raided. 'Mini, mini...' Suddenly, the meaning struck him. France got on his knees and reached out for a canteen of water that rested next to his head.
"Water, right?" he whispered with amusement as he handed it to the boy. He gave the foreign object an odd glare before it slipped out of his hands quickly, spilling on the bed. France gasped in horror to see his bed ruined, but Minnesota had an idea. Reaching over the edge of the makeshift mattress, he swiped up a good handful of dirt. Despite France's flabbergasted expression, Minnesota spilled more of the water onto the bed, making a small pool. Much to his captor's dismay, the youth dropped the dirt into the pool and mixed it with his finger(6). "W-what are you doing?" the blonde squeaked vehemently. Ignoring his question, the boy pointed to the dirty liquid.
"Mnisota(7)," the brunette stated crisply. France rubbed his temples at the sight of his ruined bed before he looked at his territory. Minnesota repeated the word over and over again until France finally said with agitation, "Assez(8)!" Although he did stop, Minnesota pointed to the mixture again. Not putting two and two together, the nation held up his hands to stop the little boy.
"Mon garçon, just stop. You've ruined the bed we have to share for the remainder of time my crew and I are staying here. If you don't have a name, then I'll grant you one." Minnesota's jaw dropped and he pointed at the dirty water again as he started up on the 'Mnisota' chant, though France overlooked that. He took a few moments to think. 'He's such a quiet child, despite being a bit violent,' he thought with a wince and a rub of his sore nose. 'And his land is beautiful, if I must say...' And he connected the two mentally and almost howled out in joy as he thought of a name.
"Mnisota!" the boy cried out one last time before he felt France looming over his tiny frame. Hitching his breath, the young warrior looked up and locked eyes with the grinning man. Taking the brunette into his arms and waking the others with his loud cackling, France proclaimed amorously, "I know, you'll be known as Clotaire Beaulieu(9) from here on out~"
Minnesota resisted the urge to face-palm.
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1 – Minnesota's name is the Dakota word for "Sky-tinted water" or "Somewhat cloudy water"
2 – French for "Shut up!"
3 – French for "He's just a boy."
4 – Ojibwe word for "cat(s)"
5 – French for "Good morning, how are you?"
6 – When settlers met the tribes of Minnesota, it was difficult for the two groups to understand each other (what with the language barrier). So the Natives would actually use milk to drop into a river/some sort of water way and say 'Mnisota' (Minnesota didn't have milk on him at the time, so he used dirt)
7 – This is one alternative to spell Minnesota and was, at the time, the correct way to spell it because the Dakota word 'mni' means 'water', though either spelling is correct (On another note, Minnesota's name comes from the Dakota language, but because the Anishinaabe people are the biggest tribal group in MN, he speaks the Ojibwe language fluently. I probably should have mentioned this in the 1st chapter, but oh well)
8 – French for "Enough!"
9 – Clotaire is a French name, meaning "loud warrior" (France names him this sarcastically due to MN's silence) and "Beaulieu" is French for "beautiful land" (Beaulieu is a typical Native American surname in Northern Minnesota. More likely in other places too, but where I live, everyone's a Beaulieu -.-)