[fanfic] A Little Knowledge ... Part 3
Title: A Little Knowledge (Part 3)
Author: nike2422
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Young America, Young Canada, France, Spain
Warnings: England's terrible potty mouth has begun to wear off on little America, also, France comes to say goodbye to Canada
Summary: Canada runs away, and America has to go find him before France does. Some dangerous seeds get planted in America's fertile little mind.
Part 1 Part 2
Older Stuff
America rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling. The moonlight coming through the window cast shadows through the trees onto the walls of his and Canada’s bedroom. For once the other colony was quiet. For weeks after England left Canada had laid in bed night after night, hugging Kumajirou and crying himself to sleep, “Je veux mon père… Je veux mon père… Je veux mon père…”
But even if Canada was quiet, America’s thoughts and feelings were in constant turmoil. He felt restless and agitated. He knew part of it was from being constantly on edge from keeping an eye on Canada. Before England left, he told America it was his job to not let Canada wander too far away, or France may try to kidnap him and take him back. To make matters worse, even though the war was over, England’s soldiers had stayed behind, and more were coming from England. The people were complaining about the constant English military presence. For some reason America couldn’t figure out, he felt angry most of the time. He was still mad that earlier in the day after promising Canada he would teach him how to play cards he had gone into town to buy some, only to find out he didn’t have enough money because of a new tax - an ENGLISH tax! Since when did England make people in America pay taxes?
America looked over at Canada. He was really quiet, even the polar bear wasn’t snoring for a change. America frowned; Kumajirou always snored. He got out of bed and quietly tip toed over to Canada’s bed. He wanted to make sure Canada was okay but at the same time didn’t want to disturb the bear, who never woke up in a good mood.
“Canada?” America whispered.
Nothing.
“Canada?” He whispered a little louder. When he didn’t even get a warning growl from Kumajirou he frowned. America grabbed the blankets and pulled them off the sleeping colony. “Canada wake up!” He said out loud. A pile of blankets and clothes were sleeping in Canada’s bed.
Cold panic seeped into America’s spine. “Shit!” He hissed and grabbed his breeches off the peg, stuffing his legs into them as he fished his shoes out from under the bed. He raced to the back door, grabbing his musket and powder horn and bolted outside.
When Prussia heard England tell America that protecting Canada was his responsibility, he insisted that a sentry at least needed to know how to fire a musket. They had spent the last few days teaching America and Canada how to load and shoot. America loved it, and especially loved watching Prussia load and fire his weapon with lightning speed. England had helped with the training, and America had stood in awe watching how fast he could reload and shoot as well.
Now as he ran into the woods in the moonlight, he stopped only long enough for priming his musket before running deeper into the trees. He slowed down when he came to a clearing, looking for tracks in the moonlight on the trail. He followed it down to the small creek that ran behind their house. America skidded to a stop when he saw Canada, holding Kumajirou, sitting in France’s lap.
“Canada! NO!” America shouted and raised his musket.
France looked up from where he sat on the bank of the creek and smiled, “Ah look, America has arrived.”
America felt something cold push under his chin and he froze. “Drop it, Señor.”
As soon as the musket landed at his feet an arm went around his waist and he was plucked from the ground. He started screaming and kicking but Spain only laughed as he waded across the shallow creek to join France sitting on the opposite bank.
“What have you caught there?” France asked cheerfully.
“Why, my own little blond colony to hold and pet!” Spain laughed as he sat down next to France and tried to put America in his lap. The boy kicked and squirmed trying to break free, but Spain’s arms were like iron bands around him.
France watched the little colony work himself to exhaustion and said, “Spain, you seem to have the most profound effect on children.” Laughing at America as he punched Spain in the nose and screamed.
“Let me go you bastard! Canada! CANADA!” America cried out, staring wild-eyed at the sleeping child held lovingly in France’s arms.
“Oh enough brat, shut up before you wake him.” France said, beginning to get irritated, “No one is going to hurt either of you.”
“Unless it becomes necessary to.” Spain added, looking down at America and smiling.
America fought the tears welling up in his eyes, trying to be brave, but seeing Canada contentedly sleeping in France’s lap terrified him. He had failed in doing the one thing England told him to do and now the poor little colony was in danger. America had to do something fast.
“Don’t you dare woo him another second France!” America shouted, “So help me if your genitals explode anywhere near him -“
Both countries stopped laughing and stared at the colony glaring at France with fists clenched. France studied America’s face for a moment, then replied, “Just what has Angleterre been teaching you?”
“Hard telling with that heathen bastard.” Spain said, looking down at the little blond boy in his lap. He admired America’s bravery yet at the same time he was shaking like a leaf.
“I admit I enjoy admiring a beautiful boy but these two are practically unbreeched babes.” France said, clucking his tongue admonishingly. “Shame they are abused so being taught such disgusting and inappropriate things. I may kidnap Canada after all just to protect him.”
“NO!” America cried and began struggling again, but Spain wrapped his arms around him, and he was just too tired to fight anymore. His head went down and he blushed from shame.
“I have to know,” France went on, “Where did you hear such ridiculous things about me?”
America looked up at France; his face had a kind expression on it as he gently stroked Canada’s head and waited for America’s explanation. “It … it was something I found that England had written.” He recited the verse he knew by heart now, and looked at France expectantly.
Before he could answer, Spain laughed out loud. “Friars? ¡Ay Dios mío!”
“About what I would expect, coming from Angleterre. This still doesn’t explain your screaming about parts of my anatomy exploding America.”
“Canada found a book about animals and it described their mating habits.” America said.
“Aaaahhhhh, so stinging bees … next time I put honey in my tea I will say a prayer for those poor drones.” France laughed softly, and then looked down at Canada still snuggled in his lap, he planted a kiss on his forehead and the colony opened an eye and looked up at him.
“Je t'aime mon père.” Canada murmured, then opened both eyes when he saw America sitting in Spain’s lap. “America? What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” America muttered.
“Oh,” Canada said, and clung to France even closer.
“You have to come back with me you know.” America said.
“No, I don’t want to! That house is an insane asylum. England always yelling at you, and you always doing stuff to make him mad on purpose. He never remembers my name, and I saw him kick Kumajirou once. So what if Kuma ate his cake, it made him sick for days! At least I don’t have to listen to him late at night when he locks himself in that room and chants those strange words anymore!”
“Chants strange words?” France asked.
“Oh, he says he’s talking to angels when he does that.” America said sullenly. “Sounds like lots of gibberish to me.”
“England thinks he can talk to angels?” Spain’s look was incredulous. “The man is madder than I thought.”
France threw back his head and laughed, “I know what he’s doing, that damned Liber Loagaeth of Dee and Kelley!”
The smile vanished from Spain’s face as he swore under his breath. “¡El trabajo del Diablo! Francia, we should kidnap both of these boys before that heretic damns them to hell with him!” Spain exclaimed angrily, hugging America tighter. Spain smells nice, the little colony thought.
“You know we can’t do that my friend, as much as I would like to. Are you ready to go back to war so soon?”
“No, I know that’s not possible, at least he wasn’t able take all your land from you.”
“True, secretly handing my holdings west of the Mississippi over to you before the war ended protected Louisiana from falling into England’s clutches. Do you like having all of this new land America?”
“ I wouldn’t know,” America yawned, “I’m not allowed to explore any of it.”
“Really,” France said, smiling over Canada’s head at Spain. “That reminds me of another English proverb - ‘child’s pig, father’s bacon.’”
“Huh? What does that mean?” America asked.
Spain chuckled, “It means that even though the farmer gave a baby pig to his son to raise, when it was time to take the pig to market the farmer didn’t give any of the money from the sale to his son, even though the pig belonged to the son.”
“Doesn’t sound fair at all, all this land, that by right is yours America, but England says you can’t have it?” France said.
America looked at Spain and France, “You’re right, it’s not fair! Today I tried to buy some playing cards so Canada and I could play a new card game, but I couldn’t buy them because of this new tax England put on everything made out of paper! I was so angry!”
“A tax on paper? That sounds crazy.” Spain said, grinning at France wickedly.
“Wait, England is taxing the colonies? When did the colonies start sending delegations to parliament?” France asked. Spain smirked
America frowned, “ The colonies don’t have delegates in the British parliament.”
“Mon Dieu! Are you telling me America, that England is taxing the colonies without any way for the colonies to address parliament? Why, that is an outrage!” France exclaimed with feigned anger.
“Indeed it is, how could he do that to you America?” Spain added, shaking his head sadly at the boy.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t stand for it. How could he be so unfair to you?” France said with a sympathetic look.
“I don’t know.” America said, realization dawning on the little colony’s face. Then he tried to stifle a yawn.
“Ah, it is so late, we should get you both home.” France said, and stood up holding Canada who had fallen back to sleep.
Both countries carried the boys back across the creek. Spain let America on his feet when they reached the other bank so he could retrieve his musket and powder horn, then they made their way back to America’s house. France carried Canada to his bed and tucked him and Kuma in, giving him one last kiss on his forehead before turning and leaving the room. America pretended to not see the tear in his eye.
America followed both countries to the door. As they were about to leave he asked France, “What should I do about England? What if he tries to make the colonies pay more unfair taxes?”
France looked down and smiled. “I would go and talk to the colonists. If you’re angry with this, I imagine they are too. You need to figure out what to do about this outrage soon, before England assumes you are complacent and he does try to impose more taxes.”
America thought for a moment, and then nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Right! I will go talk to the colonists tomorrow.”
“Good boy.” France said, giving America a pat on the shoulder. “If I may offer some more advice? It is another English proverb - ‘tis better to kiss a knave than be troubled with him.’”
America frowned, especially at the kissing part. “I don’t get that at all.” He replied.
France smiled at the boy’s look of consternation. “You will some day. Goodnight America, and good luck to you.” He bent over to give the boy a hug.
“Adiós amigo.” Spain added, and he too gave the little colony a warm embrace before walking out the door.
As they walked away into the moonlit night, Spain chuckled and asked, “What are you doing, telling that poor boy such things? You know England will probably beat the child for it.”
There was a smile on France’s mouth, but his blue eyes were steely hard. “Just returning the favor Spain, just returning the favor. He took my colony from me, so I will take his colony from him.
“Do you honestly think he has a chance against England? He will crush the child like a bug.”
“Oh, I realize he will need some help eventually. How about you, willing put in for a good cause?”
“Treason is never successful,” Spain said.
“When it succeeds, it’s no longer treason.” France laughed, “This whole situation reminds me of a French proverb.”
“Oh, which is?”
“Quand le chat n'est pas là, les souris dansent!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author’s Note: The ink on the Treaty of Paris wasn’t even dry before England made the Proclamation that none of the colonies could go west of the Appalachian mountains, the reason being that they were in debt from the war and couldn’t afford the troops to patrol the newly acquired lands that were still full of French fur trappers and hostile Indians. The British however had to keep a military presence in the area, because of fears that the French would try to return and start fighting again to the land back. To pay for the British troops, England thought was only fair that the colonies should help shoulder the bill. Everyone knows what the colonists thought of that plan. Once again, thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy it!
Author: nike2422
Rating: PG
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Young America, Young Canada, France, Spain
Warnings: England's terrible potty mouth has begun to wear off on little America, also, France comes to say goodbye to Canada
Summary: Canada runs away, and America has to go find him before France does. Some dangerous seeds get planted in America's fertile little mind.
Part 1 Part 2
Older Stuff
America rolled over in bed and stared at the ceiling. The moonlight coming through the window cast shadows through the trees onto the walls of his and Canada’s bedroom. For once the other colony was quiet. For weeks after England left Canada had laid in bed night after night, hugging Kumajirou and crying himself to sleep, “Je veux mon père… Je veux mon père… Je veux mon père…”
But even if Canada was quiet, America’s thoughts and feelings were in constant turmoil. He felt restless and agitated. He knew part of it was from being constantly on edge from keeping an eye on Canada. Before England left, he told America it was his job to not let Canada wander too far away, or France may try to kidnap him and take him back. To make matters worse, even though the war was over, England’s soldiers had stayed behind, and more were coming from England. The people were complaining about the constant English military presence. For some reason America couldn’t figure out, he felt angry most of the time. He was still mad that earlier in the day after promising Canada he would teach him how to play cards he had gone into town to buy some, only to find out he didn’t have enough money because of a new tax - an ENGLISH tax! Since when did England make people in America pay taxes?
America looked over at Canada. He was really quiet, even the polar bear wasn’t snoring for a change. America frowned; Kumajirou always snored. He got out of bed and quietly tip toed over to Canada’s bed. He wanted to make sure Canada was okay but at the same time didn’t want to disturb the bear, who never woke up in a good mood.
“Canada?” America whispered.
Nothing.
“Canada?” He whispered a little louder. When he didn’t even get a warning growl from Kumajirou he frowned. America grabbed the blankets and pulled them off the sleeping colony. “Canada wake up!” He said out loud. A pile of blankets and clothes were sleeping in Canada’s bed.
Cold panic seeped into America’s spine. “Shit!” He hissed and grabbed his breeches off the peg, stuffing his legs into them as he fished his shoes out from under the bed. He raced to the back door, grabbing his musket and powder horn and bolted outside.
When Prussia heard England tell America that protecting Canada was his responsibility, he insisted that a sentry at least needed to know how to fire a musket. They had spent the last few days teaching America and Canada how to load and shoot. America loved it, and especially loved watching Prussia load and fire his weapon with lightning speed. England had helped with the training, and America had stood in awe watching how fast he could reload and shoot as well.
Now as he ran into the woods in the moonlight, he stopped only long enough for priming his musket before running deeper into the trees. He slowed down when he came to a clearing, looking for tracks in the moonlight on the trail. He followed it down to the small creek that ran behind their house. America skidded to a stop when he saw Canada, holding Kumajirou, sitting in France’s lap.
“Canada! NO!” America shouted and raised his musket.
France looked up from where he sat on the bank of the creek and smiled, “Ah look, America has arrived.”
America felt something cold push under his chin and he froze. “Drop it, Señor.”
As soon as the musket landed at his feet an arm went around his waist and he was plucked from the ground. He started screaming and kicking but Spain only laughed as he waded across the shallow creek to join France sitting on the opposite bank.
“What have you caught there?” France asked cheerfully.
“Why, my own little blond colony to hold and pet!” Spain laughed as he sat down next to France and tried to put America in his lap. The boy kicked and squirmed trying to break free, but Spain’s arms were like iron bands around him.
France watched the little colony work himself to exhaustion and said, “Spain, you seem to have the most profound effect on children.” Laughing at America as he punched Spain in the nose and screamed.
“Let me go you bastard! Canada! CANADA!” America cried out, staring wild-eyed at the sleeping child held lovingly in France’s arms.
“Oh enough brat, shut up before you wake him.” France said, beginning to get irritated, “No one is going to hurt either of you.”
“Unless it becomes necessary to.” Spain added, looking down at America and smiling.
America fought the tears welling up in his eyes, trying to be brave, but seeing Canada contentedly sleeping in France’s lap terrified him. He had failed in doing the one thing England told him to do and now the poor little colony was in danger. America had to do something fast.
“Don’t you dare woo him another second France!” America shouted, “So help me if your genitals explode anywhere near him -“
Both countries stopped laughing and stared at the colony glaring at France with fists clenched. France studied America’s face for a moment, then replied, “Just what has Angleterre been teaching you?”
“Hard telling with that heathen bastard.” Spain said, looking down at the little blond boy in his lap. He admired America’s bravery yet at the same time he was shaking like a leaf.
“I admit I enjoy admiring a beautiful boy but these two are practically unbreeched babes.” France said, clucking his tongue admonishingly. “Shame they are abused so being taught such disgusting and inappropriate things. I may kidnap Canada after all just to protect him.”
“NO!” America cried and began struggling again, but Spain wrapped his arms around him, and he was just too tired to fight anymore. His head went down and he blushed from shame.
“I have to know,” France went on, “Where did you hear such ridiculous things about me?”
America looked up at France; his face had a kind expression on it as he gently stroked Canada’s head and waited for America’s explanation. “It … it was something I found that England had written.” He recited the verse he knew by heart now, and looked at France expectantly.
Before he could answer, Spain laughed out loud. “Friars? ¡Ay Dios mío!”
“About what I would expect, coming from Angleterre. This still doesn’t explain your screaming about parts of my anatomy exploding America.”
“Canada found a book about animals and it described their mating habits.” America said.
“Aaaahhhhh, so stinging bees … next time I put honey in my tea I will say a prayer for those poor drones.” France laughed softly, and then looked down at Canada still snuggled in his lap, he planted a kiss on his forehead and the colony opened an eye and looked up at him.
“Je t'aime mon père.” Canada murmured, then opened both eyes when he saw America sitting in Spain’s lap. “America? What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you.” America muttered.
“Oh,” Canada said, and clung to France even closer.
“You have to come back with me you know.” America said.
“No, I don’t want to! That house is an insane asylum. England always yelling at you, and you always doing stuff to make him mad on purpose. He never remembers my name, and I saw him kick Kumajirou once. So what if Kuma ate his cake, it made him sick for days! At least I don’t have to listen to him late at night when he locks himself in that room and chants those strange words anymore!”
“Chants strange words?” France asked.
“Oh, he says he’s talking to angels when he does that.” America said sullenly. “Sounds like lots of gibberish to me.”
“England thinks he can talk to angels?” Spain’s look was incredulous. “The man is madder than I thought.”
France threw back his head and laughed, “I know what he’s doing, that damned Liber Loagaeth of Dee and Kelley!”
The smile vanished from Spain’s face as he swore under his breath. “¡El trabajo del Diablo! Francia, we should kidnap both of these boys before that heretic damns them to hell with him!” Spain exclaimed angrily, hugging America tighter. Spain smells nice, the little colony thought.
“You know we can’t do that my friend, as much as I would like to. Are you ready to go back to war so soon?”
“No, I know that’s not possible, at least he wasn’t able take all your land from you.”
“True, secretly handing my holdings west of the Mississippi over to you before the war ended protected Louisiana from falling into England’s clutches. Do you like having all of this new land America?”
“ I wouldn’t know,” America yawned, “I’m not allowed to explore any of it.”
“Really,” France said, smiling over Canada’s head at Spain. “That reminds me of another English proverb - ‘child’s pig, father’s bacon.’”
“Huh? What does that mean?” America asked.
Spain chuckled, “It means that even though the farmer gave a baby pig to his son to raise, when it was time to take the pig to market the farmer didn’t give any of the money from the sale to his son, even though the pig belonged to the son.”
“Doesn’t sound fair at all, all this land, that by right is yours America, but England says you can’t have it?” France said.
America looked at Spain and France, “You’re right, it’s not fair! Today I tried to buy some playing cards so Canada and I could play a new card game, but I couldn’t buy them because of this new tax England put on everything made out of paper! I was so angry!”
“A tax on paper? That sounds crazy.” Spain said, grinning at France wickedly.
“Wait, England is taxing the colonies? When did the colonies start sending delegations to parliament?” France asked. Spain smirked
America frowned, “ The colonies don’t have delegates in the British parliament.”
“Mon Dieu! Are you telling me America, that England is taxing the colonies without any way for the colonies to address parliament? Why, that is an outrage!” France exclaimed with feigned anger.
“Indeed it is, how could he do that to you America?” Spain added, shaking his head sadly at the boy.
“If I were you, I wouldn’t stand for it. How could he be so unfair to you?” France said with a sympathetic look.
“I don’t know.” America said, realization dawning on the little colony’s face. Then he tried to stifle a yawn.
“Ah, it is so late, we should get you both home.” France said, and stood up holding Canada who had fallen back to sleep.
Both countries carried the boys back across the creek. Spain let America on his feet when they reached the other bank so he could retrieve his musket and powder horn, then they made their way back to America’s house. France carried Canada to his bed and tucked him and Kuma in, giving him one last kiss on his forehead before turning and leaving the room. America pretended to not see the tear in his eye.
America followed both countries to the door. As they were about to leave he asked France, “What should I do about England? What if he tries to make the colonies pay more unfair taxes?”
France looked down and smiled. “I would go and talk to the colonists. If you’re angry with this, I imagine they are too. You need to figure out what to do about this outrage soon, before England assumes you are complacent and he does try to impose more taxes.”
America thought for a moment, and then nodded his head in acknowledgment. “Right! I will go talk to the colonists tomorrow.”
“Good boy.” France said, giving America a pat on the shoulder. “If I may offer some more advice? It is another English proverb - ‘tis better to kiss a knave than be troubled with him.’”
America frowned, especially at the kissing part. “I don’t get that at all.” He replied.
France smiled at the boy’s look of consternation. “You will some day. Goodnight America, and good luck to you.” He bent over to give the boy a hug.
“Adiós amigo.” Spain added, and he too gave the little colony a warm embrace before walking out the door.
As they walked away into the moonlit night, Spain chuckled and asked, “What are you doing, telling that poor boy such things? You know England will probably beat the child for it.”
There was a smile on France’s mouth, but his blue eyes were steely hard. “Just returning the favor Spain, just returning the favor. He took my colony from me, so I will take his colony from him.
“Do you honestly think he has a chance against England? He will crush the child like a bug.”
“Oh, I realize he will need some help eventually. How about you, willing put in for a good cause?”
“Treason is never successful,” Spain said.
“When it succeeds, it’s no longer treason.” France laughed, “This whole situation reminds me of a French proverb.”
“Oh, which is?”
“Quand le chat n'est pas là, les souris dansent!”
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Author’s Note: The ink on the Treaty of Paris wasn’t even dry before England made the Proclamation that none of the colonies could go west of the Appalachian mountains, the reason being that they were in debt from the war and couldn’t afford the troops to patrol the newly acquired lands that were still full of French fur trappers and hostile Indians. The British however had to keep a military presence in the area, because of fears that the French would try to return and start fighting again to the land back. To pay for the British troops, England thought was only fair that the colonies should help shoulder the bill. Everyone knows what the colonists thought of that plan. Once again, thanks for taking the time to read and I hope you enjoy it!