Soft blue skies (countryhumans revolutionary war)

silver

France stood in the doorway of her ex-husband's house, surveying the rooms and the people in the rooms. 

"Maman!"

Her son ran up to her, and gave her a large hug. France held back tears. She had waited for so long to see him again, after Britain took him and made him a colony.

"My son..." France was overjoyed to see Canada again. Acadia joined in on the hugs as well.

"Hello, France." 

France looked up to see Britain standing over Canada, with one hand on his shoulder.

"Hello, Britain."

Her response was laced with cyanide and disrespect.

"Where is 13? Shouldn't he be here with us?"

Britain sighed before responding.

"He ran off in response to the taxes I've been holding down on him."

France's face turned into a frown.

"Britain, he's only 14. Go easy on him."

"I need the money, France!"

Canada pushed the two of them apart. 

"Okay, you two. Calm down. It's one in the morning, France can take the guest room."

The two of them seemed to hide their fury for each other.

"Où vais-je dormir?" asked Acadia. (where will i sleep?)

Canada thought for a while, before answering with "13 n'est pas là ce soir. Vous pouvez avoir sa chambre." (13 is not here tonight. you can have his room.)

Acadia nodded, and went upstairs. Britain went back to his tax writing. Canada carried a sleepy Confederate upstairs.

France was unsure what to do, so she followed her children upstairs. She wanted to talk to Canada, and know what he had been up to for the years he'd gone without seeing her.

"Canada?"

"Yes, Mother?"

The response came from the first room on the right.

"Canada. How have you been?"

He smiled. "I've been good. I met someone nice earlier today. An old friend, of sorts."

France sat down on the bed beside her son. "Who was it?"

"The Netherlands."

"How's he been lately? I heard that Spain wanted him as a colony again."

"He hates aunt Spain."

"So do I."

Her son seemed confused for a second.

"Why? Why would you hate her?"

France paused.

"Just... Spain and I had an argument a few years ago. Goodnight, Canada."

"Goodnight, Mother."

France walked across to where the guest suite was, opened the door, lay down in bed, and began to cry.

"France, please!"

The cries of Spain were all too familiar to her.

"Spain, you had the children of my husband while you were married. I couldn't forgive you if I tried."

They were in the garden of their grandfather, Roman Empire's villa.

The winding stone paths were lined with lilies, one of which France was currently picking apart.