The States

Twenty-Five Times

1
New Netherlands, America
August 11, 1645
The Netherlands turned in a circle on the dock. It was the first time he'd been there since England had claimed the little colony kid. America.

"Are you lost?" Netherland looked down to see a little raven-haired girl. (She wasn't little by much. She was quite tall for a girl her age.)

He crouched down to be at her eye level. "No. Are you?"

The girl lifted her head haughtily. "I don't get lost."

Netherland laughs. "What's your name, kid?"

"Mariska. What's yours? Why are you here?" The questions come in rapid-fire dutch, and her accent is comforting, smooth.

"Lars, and I came here to check on the colony." Usually, he doesn't talk to children, but this one is strangely charming. Her big blue eyes twinkle prettily, remind him of his sisters', except Emma had green eyes.

"It's nice to meet you, Lars." Mariska grabs his hand and shakes it, her small grip surprisingly strong.

After a second, the girl runs off, leaving Netherland with the feeling he missed a piece of very important information.

2
Colony of New Jersey, America
May 23, 1670
He still visited for trade sometimes. It was nice to be off the continent, away from Europe and its messy affairs. He understood why sometimes England would disappear for months at a time to take a break with America, why France did the same with Canada.

He liked staying up towards the former boundaries of New Netherlands, where the land was familiar. He liked riding his horse around it, when he needed a break.

He had stopped for a moment to go grab the mail, had tied his horse to a pole.

He came back to a boy, about seven, running his fingers through the huge black Friesian's mane.

Most full-grown adults are afraid of Hugo, of how large he is.

This child, however, was giggling as Hugo sniffed his hand, holding still to let the horse catch his scent.

Netherlands stares. Hugo neighs softly when the boy stretches up to scratch behind his ears.

"Hello." He says, and restrains a laugh as the boy jerks back and falls on his butt.

The boy looks up. "Hallo." He says and his accent is tinged with something American. "I'm sorry. I just really like horses." Hugo nickers, looking towards the boy almost worriedly.

Netherlands can't find it in himself to be mad. "It's no problem, really."

3
Spanish Florida, America
November 6, 1691
Spain grabbed the child as it ran, trying to catch it.

Only to quickly release the child when it bit down on his forearm.

One of his generals laughed. "Are you okay, Antonio?"

"Sí. Just a little bite from a little girl."

He never saw the shade of the girl's eyes, how they were identical to his.