literature

APH Birth of America - England x Native America

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Summary: On his first visit to Native America, around a decade after his people’s first visit Arthur sees a Native American woman that he quickly became infatuated with. He soon learns that she too is a country, the embodiment of Native America. What happened next between them...neither of them expected to happen...a secret between them that would reshape both of their lives forever...
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Just an FYI!
Arthur -> England
Pocahontas -> Native America (YES I know there’s a Disney Princess named Pocahontas! I couldn’t come up with another name, so it’s gonna be Pocahontas. And I’m not referring to the princess. I’m referring to the hetalia personification of Native America!!)
Alfred -> North America (Instilled only after mother dies)

**This is a Fanfic, not a historical account of any kind! Just a heads up, this isn’t historically accurate in any way!
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He saw her the moment that the tribe had come to greet them at the ship.
Arthur looked at her and she stared back at him...she looked fearless, determined...just like him. She was definitely different than all the others that were with her. He paid no mind to the other native americans at the shorebank and looked just at her.
While his crew unpacked all the supplies in which to barter with the native american tribe, Arthur stared at the girl in the eyes. He was dawned in his pirate costume, and she in her typical native american dress.
She suddenly turned her back on Arthur and ran towards the trees.
Arthur was about to call after her, “Hey-”
His eldest shipmate cut him off, “Don’t waste your breath Captain Arthur. That girl always comes by the ship whenever we show up with supplies. While the rest of her tribe is friendly and speaks english to us, she refuses to talk to us and mostly ignores us; she has for the whole decade we’ve been allied with this tribe.”
Arthur smirked, “Interesting…” Arthur had never been denied a woman in England before, being a wealthy ship-port owner, good looking and the embodiment of the country of England itself. No woman had ever denied him...except this one.
The native americans called him, “Mr. Arthur. We would be honored if you stay for a few weeks at our village! We have much to teach your people!”
Arthur exited the ship, “I’d be honored if you’d allow that.”

Arthur had never tasted food quite like how the native americans made it. The flavors were richer, much more raw and fresh tasting, and many flavours were unknown to his palette. Never had he had such amazing rabbit or such amazing smokey vegetable soup. He’d have to ask them how they made such amazing food.
Some voices outside caught Arthur’s attention, though the speakers were trying to keep their voices down.
“Why do keep running away from Mr. Captain Arthur? He’s not a bad man Pocahontas!”
“I want nothing to do with him! He’s an outsider, a european!”
“You won’t even give him a chance Pocahontas! At least try to be kind to him!”
“No, this is our country, not theirs! I won’t give in!” He could hear footsteps angrily leaving the campsite. He peeked his head outside the tepee, and saw the girl from earlier running off into the corn fields. Her hair was so long that it floated like a cape; she was the only native american in the whole camp with her hair left open, everyone else had their hair in long braids.
Arthur asked the tribe’s leader, “Sir, what is that girl’s name? The one without braids?”
The tribe leader looked at him and spoke in simple english, “That girl name Pocahontas. My daughter, but she dislike white sailor men. Sorry, my apologies.”
Arthur bowed his head slightly, “No the fault is not yours. She is still young and free, let her act how she pleases.”
The leader smiled, “You good man. No take offense for her.”
Arthur looked out the tepee with curiosity...that girl had so much energy and freedom...she reminded him of a wild horse: untamable, unattainable and undeniably beautiful.

The following morning, when many of the shipmen went out into the fields with the indian men to learn how to hunt and how to harvest, Arthur told them he wanted to explore a little. After all, he was a renowned explorer and had an interest in the secrets of this new land.
But what he was really looking for was that beautiful girl, Pocahontas. He had traveled the world before, but this was the first woman that he’d truly felt some kind of attraction for, may it have been curiousness or bemusement, that denied him.
He’d seen her take off towards the northern creek that they’d seen yesterday. That was Arthur was headed now.

When he got some length away from the camp, Arthur started hearing a gentle song. At first he thought it was a bird, but approaching closer, he realized there was no way it could have been. The notes were in perfect rhythm and the music was motionless, and it was not possible for a bird to sit still while noticing a human approach.
When he heard it directly above him, he looked up and noticed that the song was coming from the top of a very tall oak tree. Was this some kind of grass flute song? Luckily, he’s left his fancy pirate coat and hat back at the camp, along with his best clothing. There was no harm in getting these old brown trousers or this white dress shirt messy.
Arthur rolled up his sleeves and grabbed a hold of the tree bark, remembering exactly how he used to grip on and swing from trees with his bare hands in order to escape from his older brothers. Accustoming his hands, Arthur gripped the uneven bark tightly and made his way up, quickly and quietly.

Pocahontas was sitting a high branch in the tallest oak tree. No way those barbarian european pirates were going to bother her from all the way up here. Here she could do what she loved most...sit and play her favorite grass flute, calling many of the wild birds and creatures to her. She felt so relaxed away from the tribe.
Pocahontas could never tell them her secret...that was the embodiment of Native America. There was something weird about the man with the large eyebrows in the pirate uniform. Could he too be a country? No...she’d never met another one…
Suddenly Pocahontas heard the birds flee and the leaves rustle behind her. She stood up and balanced herself on the branch, readying herself for anything.
She then heard a voice in clear english accent speaking back to her, “I thought it was you all alone up here.” Pocahontas saw the ship’s captain with the thick eyebrows pivot around the tree trunk and land on the branch with her. How had this white man manage to find his way up here with his bare hands?!
Pocahontas ran down the branch and leapt from the tree, grabbing onto the next one like a monkey. She wanted to get away from that barbarian…
Arthur yelled after her, “Oh no you don’t!” He followed her, using the exact same swinging technique and following her from branch to branch.
Pocahontas was impressed, but she wasn’t going to give in. She had to get away…

Arthur did not let up. The chase lasted a while, as they ended up playing a game of tag in circles.
Suddenly, Arthur’s hand slipped, letting go of the branch, and he began to fall. The long creek was below him, and he wasn’t sure how deep it was. Falling from some of the tallest trees, Arthur had a moment then where he was CERTAIN that if he fell in, he would die.
Pocahontas noticed Arthur had slipped, and when he had, her body felt immediate shock. There was no doubt in her mind, that man was special...and she had to stop him from falling! Her hate of the europeans subsided for a moment.
Pocahontas got on top of a branch to steady herself and then projected herself at Arthur. In midair, she caught his arm and caught a lower branch on an opposing tree to slow them, and then dropped down into the creek with Arthur.
Arthur gasped as he bobbed back up in the water. The creek was not as deep as he thought, but it was still knee deep, and he’d fallen on his bottom into the soft bottomed creek. His clothes were completely drenched
Pocahontas stood up, thoroughly drenched as well, and ready to leave Arthur, but he gripped her arm firmly and pulled her back down into the creek. The two wrestled a little, but England managed to top her and get a firm grip on her wrists.
Arthur asked her, “Why do you hate me?! Why do you keep running from me?!”
Pocahontas struggled, “You white men...you’re just here for my land….my resources...everything I love and worked dear to have! You want to take it all away!”
The two had a long prolonging conversation, which Arthur ultimately ended with a kiss. He kissed Pocahontas’ lips, shutting up her protests.
Pocahontas broke their kiss, “You...you’re one of them too.”
Arthur nodded, “Yes...I am the personification of the British Empire.”
Pocahontas looked at him dead in the eye, “Then you should already know...I am the personification of Native America.”
Arthur smirked, “Is that why you hate me so much?”
Pocahontas laughed, “No. I just hate your kind.”
Arthur rebutted, “But I love your kind. So do my people. Why can’t you just accept that your people and my people are better off together?”
Pocahontas struggled and shouted, “Because they aren’t! My people have been fine for many centuries without your people! I don’t want you coming in and ruining everything!”
Arthur told her, “My people aren’t going to! Why’re you saying things like that!?”
There was another struggle between the nations...but it ended in a way no one expected it to.

Several weeks later, while the ship packed up to return to England, they were quickly surrounded by the men of the tribe, armed with spears and daggers.
Arthur asked, “What is the meaning of this?!”
One of the men told him, “We cannot let you leave yet. Come to the middle of town. We need to figure out who of your men betrayed our entire clan.”
Arthur and his men were confused, but they obliged. As they marched into the village's square, they were greeted by angry women and an angry tribe leader, each holding lit torches against the bloody sunset. Arthur held his head up high as he spoke on behalf of his cowardly crewmates who were trembling at the moment.
He spoke to the chief, “What is the meaning of this? What sin have I or my crew committed?”
He pointed to Pocahontas, who sat in the tent behind him and spoke with rage, “My daughter is pregnant! One of your men has done this to her! Which one is responsible?!”
Arthur saw Pocahontas in the tent, surrounded by elderly women doctors. She was crying and holding her stomach. She gazed to look up at him, and Arthur realized that she was crying because she didn’t want him to be punished for the moment of love they once had together.
Arthur’s lips quivered slightly as he told the chief, “I do not know who committed this awful act. Maybe she can tell us herself.”
All eyes turned back on Pocahontas.
This was the moment of truth, if she ratted him out now, then all would be known.
Pocahontas raised her hand to point out someone. But the one she pointed at wasn’t Arthur, it was the man right besides him. With a slight movement of her eyes, she looked at Arthur, and Arthur realized that she was doing this so he would not get in trouble.
The chief nodded, “So be it. We shall execute him now!” The men surrounded the man and took him to the cliff, right outside the village, where he was sacrificed in order to purify the mother and the baby’s birth.

Arthur asked the chief, “We’re going to be returning within four months, with more goods from our mainland, are you sure you would like nothing else?”
The chief nodded, “Just having you and your people around has taught us a lot.”
Arthur chuckled, “I’m sure you have taught us more than we’ve taught you.” The two men shook hands and then Arthur’s crew proceeded to finish loading up the ship back to his country and king.
However, before Arthur finished packing, he saw Pocahontas’ hand signal to come to the forest creek. He quietly slipped away from his crewmates and met the lovely woman near the creek they were at before.
She told him, “It cannot be possible...two countries cannot have a baby.”
Arthur paused before told her softly, “If this baby is born...it can only mean one thing.”
Pocahontas looked at him, “What?”
Arthur looked at her and held his tongue for a moment, “...that one of us will have to die...because this baby is a new country all it’s own.”
Pocahontas rubbed her stomach, “...I’ll give myself up for this child.”
Arthur looked at her seriously, “...you will die. Are you sure you’re okay with that?”
Pocahontas looked back at the creek, “...my people need change. Maybe it’s for the best.” She rubbed her stomach.
She told him, “Your crew will wonder where you are, go.” Arthur nodded and gave her one last look before running back to his ship.
Pocahontas looked at her stomach, “...live. Live and survive...England and little child.”

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Many years later, Arthur decided to go back to the country where his child was supposedly thriving.
He had heard from Tino of Finland that the Dutch were planning to inhabit it.
He wasn’t going to let that happen, so as soon as he could, he boarded a ship and set out for the land he once used to visit.

The shock of the loss of the Native American tribes and the forest around him really impacted Arthur. It was like he was in a whole different country now.
Which he knew it was, but it was just hard to accept.
Suddenly, he felt a tinge of power, very similar to that of Pocahontas and her Native America embodiment. He chased it out of the colony town and into the fields, desperate to find its source. If Native America had truly fallen, this would be the child that she had.

A boy with blonde hair and big blue eyes in a pretty white nightgown. That was where the power source had come from.
Arthur asked the boy, “Who are you?”
The boy gave him a big smile, “I’m Alfalfa-boy!”
Arthur smiled at him, “...can I call you Alfred?”
The boy nodded, “Yup! Everyone calls me that!”
Arthur smiled, “Then we can be brothers!” Alfred smiled gently.

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“Hey Artie! You’re late old man!” Alfred laughed as he stuffed another burger in his mouth while he stood outside the meeting room.
A stress vein popped on the older nation’s forehead, “Bloody Wanker! You’re not that much younger! Don’t call me old! And stop stuffing those heart attacks called burgers down your throat!” Arthur scolded him angrily.
Alfred shrugged, “You’re not my mom old man!” He turned and entered the meeting room laughing, sipping his coke.
Arthur clenched his fist and whispered to himself, “...I’m your father...bloody idiot...”
He was bothered by Ludwig of Germany, calling them, “EVERYONE GET INSIDE, THE MEETING IS STARTING!”
As Arthur rushed inside to claim his seat, he spotted America laughing wildly with Matthew of Canada, Francis of France’s son.
Just then Arthur saw that good old smile Pocahontas had. He’s only seen it once, but he knew for sure that she passed that trait to his son.
Arthur smiled for a brief second, then resumed an argument with Francis, determined to keep it a secret from everyone, especially his own son.
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AkhetaliafanAj's avatar
Yes I loved this XD thanks for making it; this is kinda how I pictured America's birth actually and no one had done it this well before. I'd love it if you made a sequel where America finds out and confronts England about it. But considering when this story was updated I guess that's just wishful thinking :) anyway keep up the good work 😊