Through the Years [Hetalia]

Chapter 1

A rough synopsis from Columbus to British colonization

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There were two small children roaming the lands, of what would be called Florida in the future, with a darker skinned woman. This was Native America and her child, who yet had a name to be called.

"Mommy, what are the clouds doing on the shore?" The first small child asked in one of the many native languages.

"What? Where." Native America asked, looking over the cliff they were on.

Sure enough, there were 'clouds' on the shore of the beach.

"Child, get back. Those aren't clouds." she said, pulling the boy behind her, the second already behind her.

"What are they mama?" the second boy asked curiously.

"Dangerous. You must not go near them." She said.

"Why mommy?" the first child asks, trying to peer around the woman's legs.

"Just listen to me. Please." she said, dragging them away from the cliff's edge.

Later that night the first child snuck away from his mother and made his way down the cliff side, curious.

"I wonder what these clouds are." he thought to himself as he approached the beach.

As he stepped foot on the beach, he realized that there weren't clouds on the shore, but strange floating things. And there were men around fires on the beach, talking in a language that he didn't understand. The child jumped back as one of the men spotted him and yelled for someone else. The child tried to turn and go back but squeaked as strong arms lifted him from the ground and turned him around to look at his holder.

The man was tanned and had chocolate brown hair and forest green eyes. He wore a tan uniform with a string tied in a bow around his neck. A belt was around his waist. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up to his elbows and his pants cut off below the knee with white wrappings. He had brown shoes on his feet.

"Hola, Niño pequeño. ¿Cuál es su nombre?" (1) the voice asked knocking the child out of thought.

The child just looked at him in confusion.

"What?" he asked in his native language.

"No hablas español." (2) the man said in realization.

The child just shakes his head in confusion.

The man stared at him before his eyes lit up and he scrunched his face up in concentration.

"Can you understand me now?" a voice went through his head.

The child stared at him in amazement.

"Yes." he replied.

"That's good. Can you tell me who you are? I'm Spain, or Antonio. We're here on an expedition to find new land." the man said.

"I do not have a name. But my mommy is Native America." The child told him. He had a feeling not to mention his brother.

"Is she? Can you bring her to us tomorrow?" Antonio asked.

"I can try. She doesn't like you very much. I think you're nice." the child said.

Antonio frowned. "I'm sorry to hear that. Try and get her to talk to us soon. We have to move location in a few days' time."

The child nodded and Antonio let him down. He waved and the child ran off to his mommy, pretending he never left.

He tried talking to her for the next few days, but she wasn't happy that he had gone off on his own. Eventually, around four days later she agreed to go and meet with Antonio, but they had already left the beach.

"He's gone." The child said sadly.

"It's for the better." Native America said softly.

"If you say so mommy."

But a second later she fell to the ground twitching.

"Momma?" The second child asked scared.

"Run." she coughed out. "Get away. They're hurting our people."

"Momma no." The children said, tears filling their eyes.

There was yelling in the strange language and the child turned around to see a group of men running towards them. The child started crying as they separated him from his mommy, his brother also crying as he was carried away.

"Cállate." (3) A rough voice commanded him.

The child got the meaning and tried to stop crying. The two watched as the men carried his momma away from them. This would be the last time they would see her alive.

For the following years they felt her presence leaving them. Even though they weren't fully fledged nations, yet they still felt the pain of the people. They were dying and getting hurt. And it hurt them. They would get sick constantly, not used to these new viruses. But Antonio was always there, taking care of them.

Every once in a while, he saw a yellow-long haired man walking around with Antonio. But he never knew who he was, and he could never understand what he was saying.

All they knew is that they were growing up. Slowly. Their momma was dying, and they felt it. There was an empty feeling in his heart and mind. His momma wasn't there anymore. The two brothers constantly held and comforted each other. One night the long, blonde haired man took his brother away and he screamed and cried for him to come back but he never did. It would be decades before he saw him again.

And that's when the yellow-short haired man showed up and took him away from Antonio.

And the man had a small child like him. But he spoke the language of the strange yellow-long haired man.

"Hello child." the short haired man said, the child not understanding. "I am England, or Arthur Kirkland."

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1. Hello, small child. What is your name?

2. You don't speak Spanish.

3. Shut up.

If I'm wrong blame my horrible Spanish skills and google translate