A/N "Jamais vu" is the opposite of "Deja vu." It means 'never seen' d: This chapter deals more with France than Minnesota. It deals with the Louisiana Purchase; sadly, my moronic and ignorant tendencies in US History has made my knowledge on the Louisiana Purchase come to a miniscule amount, so if any of the things mentioned about the L.P. in this prompt are wrong, don't kill me—just think of it as historical inaccuracy xD (BTW, if you have baby ears/eyes, then I would suggest not reading this. France and Spain throw quite a few foreign profanities in the presence of minors)
Disclaimer: NO MORE OF THIS! I don't own APH or OC!Minnesota or any of the historical figures mentioned. After this, I'm not doing the disclaimer. If you've actually gotten this far, I think the first 9 chapters state my business (:
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Prompt 10: "Jamais Vu"
Never in his life had Minnesota seen such a man that was capable of such anger, so it was understandable to not recognize France when he came home furious.
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It was a rather moody mid-autumn day; France paced around the small conference room, an undecipherable feeling looming in the pit of his stomach. One of France's noblemen, a man by the name of Pierre(1), had requested that the nation come to the territory that was Louisiana. He didn't really want to, as he had his hands full with Minnesota and Canada and he had mixed emotions about this meeting, but reluctantly agreed to meet with the man. He trusted that his boys were going to be all right without him for a few days.
The feelings had settled in his stomach when he saw his good friends, Spain and Prussia(2), sitting around and chatting amongst each other. But those emotions returned with a vengeance once the blond settled with his pals and he'd asked them what the conference was about and they, too, had no answers to give. For all the trio knew, they were just summoned out of the blue. The self-proclaimed Bad Touch Trio remained quiet the remainder of the time as they waited for Pierre to enter the room.
When the Frenchman did, the leader of America, Thomas Jefferson, and a string of children(3), all of whom were inexplicably crusty, ruggedly dressed, and exhausted ('Were those small ones Canada's little friends?'), followed closely behind. They were all holding hands, despite the look of absolute hatred glimmering in their hazy orbs. France hitched his breath as the children marched into the room—he'd recognized all of them, despite the lack of bonding. They were all under French or Spanish control; that explained Spain's presence, though Prussia's was still under question. As the territories suddenly were crammed in the room, a familiar young man with gleaming cerulean eyes that hid behind slightly dirty glasses stepped in.
It was at that moment that France noticed the little girl that rested against the caramel haired man's chest. Her dirty hands clung tightly on his shirt and her tear-streaked cheeks were feathered with gentle crimson. She was the territory Louisiana; a territory that was under his control. When France first found her, she was in an identical position that she was in now – her dirty blonde tresses were tousled and cuts and bruises grazed her limbs, yet she still fought hard against France's advances, even though she was in a horrible condition. It had taken her a fortnight to trust the personification to heal her wounds, and an even longer time to grow to love him.
With that memory still in mind, madness grasped a hold of the blond's heart and it took every ounce of his willpower – and Prussia's iron grip on his elbow while the albino also held back Spain – to keep from lunging at the men. Instead, France growled out, "Amerique, what the Hell is this?" The man with the glasses, America, shrugged halfheartedly and nodded at Pierre to speak, who cleared his throat to have all eyes on him.
"Monsieur Bonnefoy, Monsieur Hernandez, I have requested that you come here to offer a proposal that myself, Alfred, and Thomas have thought of together," Pierre started. Spain and France calmed down a little and ripped their arms away from a dismayed Prussia before narrowing their eyes. They both didn't speak, but their body language did. Pierre continued, "It has been brought to our attention that these territories," Thomas motioned at the angry brood of children, "are currently under French and Spanish control, correct?"
"Oui."
"Si. And what of it?" Spain grunted, trying to keep his composure together. The Frenchman chuckled rather darkly while Thomas twiddled his thumbs meticulously.
"As you hopefully may have noticed, they are all living on American soil," he droned on, a mocking tone surfacing. Prussia locked arms with France and Spain tightly, knowing what was about to be said and knowing that the two were going to react rather violently. "What we have put together is a little something called Vente de la Louisiane." Spain's emerald eyes lost its glowing rage and cluelessness softened in the orbs.
France, on the other hand, just about lost it. If it hadn't been for Prussia, the blond would've grabbed the short Frenchman and choke him to death. He chose for a less severe method of venting and dug his nails into the soft flesh of his palms. The children watched in silent awe as the blond pointed an accusing finger at the men. "S-salaud(4)! What do you mean 'The Sale of Louisiana'? The French and Spanish acquired the territories fairly! We were the ones that discovered these territories-"
"And that's where you are wrong, Sir Francis," the American president spoke up in a soft voice, finally making his presence known. The nation's eyes narrowed at the sight of the Democratic-Republican. "I don't mean to be so rude as to interrupt your, erm... speech, but as you may have saw upon coming here yourself, there were already people that were entitled to this land. After Christopher Columbus founded what is now Virginia, and the indigenous people had accepted our presence, America was, inadvertently, born. Everything that belongs outside of the Canadian border is on American land—therefore, all territories and such are America's." America nodded gingerly, though a mixture of hurt and puzzlement fogged in his eyes.
He saw how much Spain and France adored the little ones they found and he, at first, rejected the proposal, as he didn't want to cause a rift in the relationship he had for the two. However, his boss and this Pierre character were deeply pondering this decision for so long that by now, refusing would've forced a groove between the relationship of the expanding nation and his people.
He felt pity for the Spaniard and frog, though – it was why he summoned Prussia to hold back the two when this announcement was made, as this decision was finalized between France's boss and two of America's well-trusted citizens only a week ago. France and Spain, in turn, had no choice but to turn over the territories that were bought altogether. As for the others that only bits and pieces of land were bought, the two nations were lucky. Despite the fact that France's boss sold the land for a palsy three cents an acre, America managed to convince Thomas not to buy the others in bulk, claiming that there was so much time for that in the future. In reality, America couldn't bear to take care of so many kids at one time.
"Now, as you can see from this map, we have outlined the land that we took. It begins, obviously, in parts of Louisiana, and as you go north, you can clearly see others, such as the territories of Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, and some of the Minnesotan territory-"
"EHH? C'est des conneries(5)! You can't just snatch what was rightfully ours!"
"Hijo de puta! Puta madre(6)! How could you have done something so horrible, you idiota?" America froze when his thoughts crashed and burned and he was forced back into the throes of reality. Focusing his vision on the two nations that struggled against their German friend's grasp, he watched as Pierre scowled at the duo's antics, indifferent towards their abrasive behavior.
"Ta gueule, Bonnefoy!" the Frenchman ordered sternly. That sadistic smile played on the man's lips. Prussia ground his teeth—he detested the rude, albeit bold attitude this midget had acted towards his friends. But by holding the Spaniard and blond back, they wouldn't emotionally scar the children that stared at the spectacle, all of them completely withdrawn physically. Thomas stepped in between the tense men, forcing a cough into his fist.
"Now, now, gentlemen, let's not get too hasty in front of the children," the president said warily. The nobleman chortled to himself, but agreed with what the superior stated. France and Spain, though reluctant, quieted themselves and a thick tension surfaced in the room. Louisiana shifted gently in America's arms, moaning softly and painfully as she held her stomach weakly. The other children were still in a reserved state of mind. After a few minutes of complete silence, Thomas spoke up.
"The deal has already been sealed, Sir Francis and Sir Antonio," Thomas murmured. "Two of my best men were sent to Paris a week ago to negotiate the Purchase with a man by the name of François Barbé-Marbois(7), who, as Francis would know, was a close... acquaintance of Sir Bonaparte." France's eyes widened in shock at the mention of his great leader's name. "We've requested your presence so you both knew and wouldn't try to reclaim the areas as your own. I apologize for the inconvenient time, but I hadn't realized how long your trips were to get here, as I had summoned you two the day the Purchase occurred."
Spain's arm went limp in Prussia's grasp, and the German pulled away from his friend. The Spaniard could feel a fiery anger burn in his heart, but throwing a tantrum wasn't going to get him anywhere. He could only watch with glossy eyes as most of the territories that were once under his reign were ceded into America. France refused to give up his, however. He struggled in Prussia's hold, wildly kicking at a smirking Pierre and an indifferent America as the children were ushered out of the room by Thomas.
"Brûle en enfer! C'est la guerre, fils de pute(8)!" France snarled venomously. Prussia grunted for him to calm down and Spain comfortingly squeezed the blond's shoulder and begged for him to calm down, that what's done is done and all they can do is let them go. But as France continued to thrash around in fury, Pierre allowed America to exit first and the Frenchman turned around, a demented glint in his eyes. The personification growled threateningly. "Lache-moi la grappe(9)!" he hissed at the albino before turning his eyes back to an amused Pierre. "Allez au diable, vous fils de pute(10)! You're horrible!" The man feigned pity for France as he waved his hand around lithely.
"C'est la vie(11)," he stated crisply before walking out, that same mocking smile waltzing on his lips as he did. After Pierre slammed the door following his exit, Prussia finally let France's arm go free; the blond immediately dropped to his knees, emitting a dry sob leave his throat. Spain and Prussia knelt down next to their heartbroken friend, Spain feeling the man's pain and Prussia feeling guilty for having to hold back both of his friends while their land was taken right in front of them.
"Mi amigo... it's going to be all right, yeah?" the Spaniard whispered in a hoarse voice. He extended a hand towards the fallen nation, as did Prussia. "C'mon, let's go out and have a bit of Lovi's Amontillado. It'll take our mind off things." France pulled away from his friends' advances and forced himself to his feet. He was, in layman's terms, beyond pissed. Not just towards Pierre, one of his own men, but also directed his anger towards his friends. After this traumatizing event, and all they can think to do is drink?
Pushing away the limbs of his buddies, France staggered out of the room, mumbling many French profanities under his breath, as Prussia and Spain looked on. The brunette called out for the blond, but Prussia quieted him. "What just happened was unawesome, Toni—let Francis vent for awhile. He'll be fine."
-.-
He wasn't too sure on how long he'd been walking – France had kept his head down the entire time. Scarlet flushed his cheeks from the bitterness that made his nerves jump. How could America just go and take away the colonies that he and Spain founded first? And the nerve of Pierre, one who declared himself to be a French nobleman! 'He's a disgrace; that's what he is!' the nation cried out in his mind. He so badly wanted to beat the mortal to death—but Prussia was a strong man, even if his Teutonic Knights era ended long ago.
France emitted an abrasive huff. He was going to get back at the bastard one of these days. "P-papa! C'est bon de te revoir(12)!" Azure orbs met with exuberant violet eyes as Canada rushed out of the palatial home and into France's arms. Kumajirou followed lazily, and even Minnesota stepped out of the house, too exhausted to keep up with the energetic Canadian. France couldn't help but grin weakly at his son's overjoyed welcoming; upon seeing Minnesota, however, his jaw dropped.
How long had he been traveling, indeed? The not-so little boy aged from an adorable 4 or 5 year old to a bigger 8 year old boy. He was still slightly smaller than Canada, but the fact that he'd aged in such a small amount of time—
"Quoi de neuf alors(13), France," Minnesota piped up when he was in hearing range. His voice even changed, even if it was just a tad. "What took ya?" Canada pointed at the Native boy with a stunned look in his eyes.
"Papa, Clotaire grew last week! He went to the restroom as a little boy and by the time he came out, he looked like that!" Canada exclaimed in concern. France blinked while Minnesota stuck out his tongue at his older brother.
"Fous le camp, Mattie! I told ya t' quit runnin' yer mouth about my body!" Minnesota bellowed in distress. The two began arguing noisily – a habit that developed in the duration of France's leave, no doubt. But something in France – and he wasn't sure what – clenched his throbbing heart before it plummeted to the pit of his stomach. If the Purchase was dealt with a week ago, and his boy grew a week ago, did that mean-?
With Canada still in his arms, France hurried over to a daunted Minnesota and scooped him up. The boy was about to flail around in protest, but ceased to when France tightly embraced his boys close to his chest. The blond buried his face on the top of their heads and promptly let out an arid cry. His body quivered frantically as the wracked man recited over and over again in an almost melodious fashion, "Je ne te laisserai jamais partir(14)."
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1 – According to what I've read, a French nobleman by the name of Pierre Samuel du Pont du Nemours was requested by then president Thomas Jefferson to negotiate with his home country at the time of the Purchase. He apparently went through with this request because he wanted to avoid the French troops that may have/did land on New Orleans.
2 – I'm positive that Germanic states had nothing to do with anything that occurred during this part of American history, but I added Prussia to bring together the Bad Touch Trio (plus, someone had to hold back the two when this unfortunate news was brought on, yes?)
3 – The children mentioned are the territories that were bought in the Purchase: all of Arkansas, Missouri, Iowa, Oklahoma, Kansas, and Nebraska were bought. Parts of Minnesota, Montana, Wyoming, Colorado, and Louisiana were sold. Most of North Dakota was bought, and nearly all of South Dakota was taken (like, a tip of a corner in SD remained untouched, that's how much of the land was taken), as well as northeastern New Mexico and northern Texas. Canadian provinces Saskatchewan and Alberta were also a part of the L.P.
4 – French for "Bastard(s)" (I'm not too sure on how to make things plural in French, so if I got this wrong, my bad, my blunder :\)
5 – French for "This is bullshit!"
6 – Spanish for "Son of a whore/bitch! Motherfucker!" (It's not like Spain to swear, but to have his territories be taken a week before he found out would cause him to snap, in my opinion. And 'Puta madre' is literally translated as 'fucking mother' or 'whore')
7 – Upon reading, I discovered that Napoleon Bonaparte was in talks with Barbé-Marbois about selling all of the Louisiana territory to America, as he'd lost Saint-Domingue (which is now known as Haiti) and the area held little value to him anymore because the revenues of the Caribbean sugar colonies dissipated. The two men good ol' Jefferson mentioned were James Monroe and Robert R. Livingston. Interesting fact: days before James Monroe arrived in Paris, François offered Livingston ALL of Louisiana + co. instead of just New Orleans.
8 – French for "Burn in Hell! This is war, you son of a bitch!"
9 – French for "Leave me alone!"
10 – French for "Go to Hell, motherfucker!"
11 - French for "That's life."
12 – French for "It's nice to see you again!"
13 – French for "What's up then." (A common catchphrase of Minnesota's is a rezzy-accented 'Sup den.' I figured this was about as French as it could get d:)
14 – French for "I'll never let you go." (OK, I'm gonna be honest, I cite the French lyrics for Elvis Presley's song "I'll Never Let You Go (Little Darlin')" for this translation xD I wouldn't be surprised if I got this wrong))
A/N I gave Spain and France Romano's mouth in this xD I take back what I said in "Runaway," this chapter was fuckin' hard to write (not to mention...really long) =_="