The Roots Run Deep: Chapter 2
No Archive Warnings Apply
America (Hetalia)/England (Hetalia)
America (Hetalia: Axis Powers)
England (Hetalia: Axis Powers)
Canada (Hetalia: Axis Powers)
France (Hetalia: Axis Powers)
Language:EnglishSeries:Part 1 of the
To compare the salty air of the ocean to the air of London was like comparing a common sow to a pure bred steed. The ocean air always came out on top. England inhaled deeply running his heavily gloved hand across the gunwale with almost a lover's affection. Sliding his fingers over the nicks and grooves of the wood, a certain calmness filled his center. Though the nation was happy to stand in his Queen's court, when he was by her side that meant he could protect her with his own strength. But to say that it was his favorite place would be an absolute lie, the best place to be was at sea. To ride up in a female queen of wood on top of ocean waves whose temperament was a secret to all but the men of of the sea.
"Ah, Mr. Kirkland good morning." a voice quickly brought England back to reality as he looked at the man that approached.
"Ah, Richard good morning, I hope that a good night's sleep was graced to you" Richard nodded leaning back against a stack of roped crates.
"As much as a man can sleep upon such a rocky vessel." he responded and England looked over the human thoughtfully. He had so wanted to travel to the new world with Raleigh yet the man would not travel back and he had graced the important task to the captain, Richard Greenville. England had not been so sure, but Raleigh placed much faith in the man and over the last couple weeks he had grown to like the individual very much.
"Reminds me of a mother rocking the cradle of her young." England shrugged only to have his comment ended with the cursing of a sailor. Looking up the men stared at one of the crew men fighting hard against a knot. "Ah, poor lad" he crossed his arms looking up.
"We should get someone to help him." Grenville said looking around only to have a low whistle from the Englishmen that stood adjacent. A cry of surprise drew his attention upwards once more as suddenly the knot came undone. The blond Brit chuckled in amusement, curses of surprise replacing those of anger.
"Mr. Kirkland, with the magic again?" Grenville muttered, rubbing at his arms. The man in question merely quirked his head in amusement turning his mouth upwards.
"Ah, yes, magic makes you uncomfortable. I forgot. " he commented.
"Well, it is rather frowned upon by the church."
"But, Richard, you must remember, not only am I Catholic, but Protestant and a faithful follower of the Mother." He smiled, straightening as the beckoning hand of the captain caught his attention.
"Mr. Kirkland I didn't mean it with any disrespect."
"My name is Arthur," the nation said firmly patting his shoulder briskly, "The only time I go by the name of Kirkland is when captain is in front of it." He headed for the helm, his sea legs allowing him easy passage across the damp deck. Jogging up the stairs he took the gold painted spy glass that was offered to him.
"Thought that you would be interested in this." the scrubby bearded captain grunted pointing forward. At the gesture England turned front and extended the navigation device to its fullest extent, bringing it to his eye. And there it was just on the horizon, a blurry black line, a line that signified land. His growing excitement was pierced by a yell from the crows nest.
"LAND HO!!!" A sailor shouted from the top of his lungs.
"Yes, land ho." the pale blond breathed handing the Spyglass back to the captain. His legs carried him down the stairs and to the climbing rope against the belly of the mast. He pulled the gloves from his hands, shoving them in the waistband of his brown trousers and hosting himself along the makeshift ladder. Lean muscles crafted by decades of physical activity made the climb an easy one as he scaled the distance with impressive speed.
"Excuse me, lad." he nodded at the young man that stared at him in shock as he hoisted himself into the crows nest. "Yes there it is" he smiled clutching the edge. From up here the blurry line was much more defined. He rubbed at the tears that came from emerald eyes as the sea wind stung them.
"The New World,” he breathed, “I'm almost there....the New World....and a little brother.”
“Mr. Kirkland, if you would please come down here.” came a shout from below. The country leaned over the edge to stare down at the explorer.
“Richard...I thought we had this discussion.” he sighed, propping his chin on his palm. the explorer flushed with what could only be a mix of annoyance and embarrassment.
“...Arthur, please come down. I need to discuss things with you before we land tomorrow.” he beckoned.
“Oh alright,” he nodded hiking over the edge, and muttered “Spoilsport.” A stray rope caught his attention. He pulled on his gloves and he grasped the rope bringing it closer to his body.
“Ah! Mr. K-Arthur don’t do that!”
“Richard, as an explorer your sense of adventure is extremely lacking!” With that the blond jumped, hands sliding down the rope at an alarming rate.
“Arthur! B-...uh.” The Englishman stared blankly at the country figure that dropped down onto the deck in front of him. His cheeks were red with excitement, emerald eyes glowing with exhilaration, messy hair mussed even more, if that was possible.
“Now Richard,” he said, breathing heavily with hands perched upon narrow hips, “Let's hustle on to the map room and let's get to discussing this New World.”
Richard Grenville nodded and beckoned him toward the building. England put a hand on his shoulder to stop him. Richard looked at him curiously waiting for whatever had come over the other man.
A serious expression came over the English nation’s face “No. Correction. Let's discuss My World.”
That night, even though the waves rocked the boat gently, the island nation was finding it impossible to fall asleep. He was anxious, anxious to see the new world, determined to beat that Frog at colonization He was also nervous, nervous about finding that small child that Finland had seen. He fervently hoped that Netherlands had not already snatched him up.
He didn't have a little brother and according to France it was his own fault. Being too stiff upper lipped, harsh and demanding. Never once had the words of the flamboyant Frenchman bothered him, until now. What if the boy had no interest in him? Worse, what if he didn't like him?
"Dammit to all hell." he muttered, rolling onto his side and pressed his cheek into the cloth of his blanket. He brought his knees up to his chest he willed himself to sleep. He needed all the energy he could get just in case that Frog was also there. He welcomed the small weight that suddenly settled on his hip. "Good evening, Flying Mint Bunny." he murmured, eyes cracking open to glance at the small fairy creature.
"England you are troubled, what is bothering your heart?" chirped the response.
"Well, I do have to shave in the morning" he said sarcastically rubbing at the stubble that was beginning to form on his aristocratic bone structure.
"All right, all right." he sighed and began to spill his concerns out to the small winged rabbit. Eventually, the sand man visited the restless nation granting him the gift of much needed sleep. Sleep left him as a knock resounded through the small cabin.
"Arthur you need to come out here." Richard’s voice sounded impatiently. "Arthur!"
"Don't get your knickers in a twist." the pirate shot back stretching out with a groan of satisfaction as small pops sounded. He stiffened as it was the sound of seagulls that greeted him. Seagulls of this volume could only mean one thing.
Shoving the poor excuse for a blanket off if his body he bounded across the room yanking the door open to face a surprised Grenville. The explorer backed up quickly as the nation bolted from the door rocketing across the deck to the bow slamming against the gunwale almost falling head over heals. There it was, the shore of the New World, and it was perfect, it was his. Beaches of golden sand, decorated with what could only be shells as the seagulls screamed above him.
"Richard!!!" The country whipped around, "How long until we reach bank!? How long, sir!? Tell me!" He gripped the man's shoulders tightly shaking him, "Out with it!"
"Within the hour is what the captain has informed the crew and I."
"Ugh, a bloody hour! That is just too long!" He groaned throwing his hands up in the air. At this, small groups of people came forth from below the deck. These were individuals who were going to start the first colony of the New World. His attention shifted forward enraptured by the scene before him. Only when a man from the helm appearing to be in his fifties stood alongside him did he pull his eyes away. England stood stiffly, jaw clenched and eyes wide in apprehension as they fixed on the nearing shore. A wave of sympathy flowed over the nation was he leaned on his forearms. "It's a beauty isn't it?" England asked.
"Ah, is that a streak of distaste I detect?"
"It's a foreign land, sir, a land that I am not familiar with," the man swallowed, "And to be frank, I am frightened. The fact that we have to start civilization here...that is a lot to be expected of us."
"Embrace it. It is a birth of a new world. Isn't the birth of a new calf, a lamb, or a child extremely exciting? The chance to aid in the growth and nurture of another being. Look at it that way" he looked over at the man with sudden interest. He was dressed different from the rest of the men standing around them. "What is your name?"
The look of worry left his eyes and amusement took over, "Lane...Ralph Lane," he smirked, "and you Mr. Kirkland, have been given the honor to touch new soil before anyone else." He gestured as the boat suddenly lurched.
"Sand bar!" A voice shouted, "Prepare to lower the first long boat."
In disbelief he looked over quickly at the mass of crew gathered along the gunwale looking at him expectantly. With many emotions England turned and headed for the two crew members that hoisted the boat into position. In no time at all the men and the country lowered the boat to the water.
"We shall return in due time." England called, looking into the faces of Grenville and Lane, two men he was sure would play large parts in his history and future. The time between the boat and the sand was a blur, time stood still for England. The waters were clear. "Almost perfect."
The country hurriedly untied his tall black boots yanking them off in haste along with wool stockings, ignoring the questioning looks from the two humans with him inside the miniature vessel. With a yank upwards of the trousers, pale slim legs were revealed to the burning sun, offering the flaming beast fresh flesh to burn.
"Almost there." he muttered impatiently gripping the edges so hard knuckles turned white. There! The first nudge of sand against wood. "Yes!"
Hosting his body over the side of the boat, chilled water splashing into the air, England, finally stepped into the ground of the new world.
England watched as the men began to put up small temporary shelters, building fires and pulling what food was left off the ship. He observed with jealousy the few men that had put together a party and ventured into the woods to look for fresh water, food, and anything else to fuel the fire. The minute he had jumped in the water and hit New World soil, he collapsed, unconscious as a surge of his peoples feelings and his met him all at once. It was exhilarating, yet terrifying. He had woken up to Grenville slapping at his face in a panicked state yelling for him to wake up. He winced as he watched Richard pouring over a set of maps with Ralph, a large bruise forming on his face. The nations first reaction had been to strike back at whatever was hitting him, he prayed that it didn't smart too much. Shifting restlessly he leaned back against the rough bark of a tree drawing circles in the dirt with his toe. Richard and Ralph had not been too pleased at the loss of consciousness.
They had instructed that he needed to keep within the camp area just in case something similar happened. But honestly! He was the country of England, a force to be feared! One little mishap should not result him to be confined to camp like a child to his detention desk. Looking around, he noted the attention that had been focused on him was no longer applied he edged around the tree slowly. He had no interest in helping the men in their endeavors, this was his new country dammit! And he wanted to explore it as he pleased! With that the blond nation slid behind the tree allowing the small woodland area to envelope him, calm settling over his person. Choosing a random path created by some creature he took it at a slow pace, taking in the sight around him.
The cry of seagulls and ocean against the shore was muffled here amongst the trees sparse with green leaves as the sub burned what was left of the morning dew away from the earth. The slight rustle of undergrowth and branches signified that there was life in these woods, yet they appeared shy as all the sounds faded away from him in panicked scurries.
"This land has much potential, I can see a thriving culture, happy people..." he smiled softly.
"Aha how stereotypical" he chuckled coming across a muttering brooke. Dropping to his knees he cupped a puddle of the clear water bringing it to his lips. "Ah perfect, this water is fresh and drinkable. I can see all the way to the bottom. Richard will be pleased with this find."
Splashing some of it into his face he settled down for a moments rest. Lounging back on propped elbows he let the rising sun pour down on him. "This place is comfortable, I like it here. I have the feeling that my time here will be long and prosperous." he smiled, a yawn following the comment eyelids drooping
It was the chill of evening setting in that startled the man awake. "Oh hell! I did not plan to sleep away the day."
Lurching to his feet and brushing dirt from his form realization fell upon him. In the shadow of twilight nothing looked familiar. He had gotten himself lost, literally, not only did he not know where he was and neither did anybody else.
"Ah bloody hell!" Anger at himself for making such a mistake fueled the country. "I'm pretty positive I came from this direction." he muttered and trumped into the woods. However to no avail the sun kept sinking in the sky his sister the moon climbing the sky ladder ladder for her shift. "Bloody hell it's getting dark!"
It was becoming difficult to see his hand in front of his face "Dammit" he muttered raking his hands through his hair and dropping them to his sides. "I do not fancy camping out here" with that thought process he trudged forward darkness falling like a blanket over the island. "I have been walking for at least an hour.Maybe I should stop and sleep for the night."
"No, Mister you can't! The wolves are going to eat you!" A young voice broke his solitary state.
"Agh!" England backed into a tree hand flying to the pistol at his hip "Who's there!? State your name I command thee-"
"Mister, let's go!" A small hand grabbed his own "I don't want you to be eaten!"
"Wait a bloody second!" The voice was high pitched signifying that the individual was a child much before adolescence. Not allowing for England to stick a gender on the child with 100% accuracy, yet he would bet anything it was a boy. "Where are your paren- ah!!" England was yanked forward with surprising force and strength.
"Come on Mister! I can take you back to your friends!"
"My friends...but-" he cut himself short as the child broke into a small run tugging him along refusing to let go of his hand. He had no clue where he was and this child seemed to know where he was going. England had no clue where he was going, but the child proceeded forward with un-interrupted by bumps and roots. It was not long until the smell of smoke from a fire filled his senses and suddenly a flame could be seen through the trees.
“Mr. Kirkland!” Shouts broke through the air, it was then that the small hand disappeared from his own.
“Wait child, where are you-” the small dark figure disappeared into the undergrowth.
“Arthur is that you?! Arthur it is! Everybody I found him!”
“Ah Richard…Ralph” he turned to look at the man that bolted towards him, oh and did they look pissed.
England watched, unhappy with the situation. The crew that was returning to the motherland loaded what cargo they needed for the travel back. The situation at hand was not favorable for anybody. Ralph and 107 men were to be left on the island and Grenville was going to send a relief fleet. It was August 17, 1585 and the fresh supplies and new men were not going to be back until April of the next year. Kicking at the sand England could not help toss a glare at Richard as he called for him, waving from the boat.
“Arthur it is time that we set sail and return to our Queen! Let us bring our news of success to her with open arms!”
“Arthur, we shall be fine, its not like we are simple aristocrats” Ralph approached him from behind, resting his hand comfortingly on his shoulder “We are men who are used to living off of the land and taking care of themselves. We shall fare quite well until you return.” He assured his country with a firm grip.
“I still do not agree with the situation.” Arthur muttered turning to look at the man, a scowl etched upon young looking features. The country was quite aware of the hardiness and stubbornness of the men that were staying behind at Roanoke. Nobody knew that better than he. They were his people after all.
That was also the reason for his concern. Even though he understood that it was impossible for him to shelter everyone from the dangers of the world he would damn well try to do what he could.
“We will be fine, do not trouble yourself with us. You have work to do back in London. Go and make sure the Queen does not forget her subjects here.” Ralph laughed thrusting his hand forward.
“Aye. You say that you will be fine and I hold you to be a man of your word, Ralph.” he gripped his hand shaking it with heart. “I also would like you to do a favor for me.”
“That first night here when I lost my way through the woods. I told you of that child that lead me back.” He spoke up and frowned at the skepticism that lit the humans face “I know you think me daft and unnerved in that situation, but humor me. Please keep an eye out for the child for me.”
“Aye, I will Arthur” he nodded releasing the nation’s hand as another impatient shout sounded from Grenville.
“All right! All right! Grenville what did I say about getting your knickers in a twist!” he shouted and with a short tip of the cap upon his head, running for the longboat. He stared at the shore with a longing and uneasiness settling in his heart as he was lifted into the ship. Leaning against the gunwale he grumbled to himself until a small figure perched upon a rock caught his attention. A small child dressed in a beige nightgown, with blonde hair like amber waves of grain. He sat upon the rock waving wildly at the ship as it sailed away.
“The boy!” he gripped the wood tightly “I knew it! The boy was real! I was not daft in the least sense!”
He slumped backwards turmoil brewing in his breast. “But who is he?”
