It was the thirteenth century, on the verge of the fourteenth. Things were changing, though Captain Arthur had no qualms. He was still king of the seven seas; he still held the most treasure and knowledge in his crypts. The other nations of Europe struggled along behind him, doing anything they could to get ahead, particularly France. But were they successful?

Not one bit.

Britain was the country where everything was done; new discoveries were made, the best harbors were stationed. All the countries wanted to get a piece of Britain, both literally and figuratively. Everyone wanted to be able to trade with Great Britain, to be on his good side.

It was their only means of survival, after all. If a country were to oppose Great Britain, it would be quickly and thoroughly squashed under the steel-toed boot of the great nation.

Smiling to himself, Captain Arthur stood at his chamber window, arms folded behind his back, which was perfectly straight. Books, scrolls, candles, wine; the finest things a country had to offer were only a small assortment of that which he kept in his chambers. The rest, which he had no personal desire for or could not fit, were stored in his library, which also happened to be known as the largest and greatest library in the world.

A knock was heard at his door. Frowning a bit, Captain Arthur turned his head so he could see the door with his peripheral vision and commanded, "Enter." He began to turn around to face his company.

The door flung open and Captain Antonio, of Spain, rushed inside. "I've found the likes of which have never been found before!" He boasted.

Captain Arthur scoffed. "Has it not been Great Britain that has been responsible for finding all of the greatest places in this world? Has Great Britain not been the epicenter of intelligence and discovery?"

Captain Antonio lightly rested the fingers of either hand on Captain Arthur's shoulders, leaned in close to his ear, and whispered, "I have found a new world."

Captain Arthur spun around, his sword drawn, and pointed the tip at Captain Antonio's neck. "Such false boasts will earn ye head posted above me mantle."

The Spanish Captain only smiled, his hands raised as a show of peace. "It does not matter if ye believe me or not…Though not seizing the opportunity as it is raised would be a fatal blow."

The British Captain growled, pressed his blade against the other's neck enough for it to draw blood. "State ye business."

That damned smile remained on Captain Antonio's face. "Humor me. Come see my new world. Unless, that is, dear Great Britain has no desire to expand, to see a place where no human feet have tread. If Great Britain doth not desire to see a new place so wonderful, so fantastic, with flora and fauna alike that has never been seen before, may Great Britain rest in peace."

Great Britain scowled, but slowly lowered his blade. "When is the mast raised?"

Spain smiled deviously. "At ye's leisure, of course."


At sea, Great Britain stood at the foremost tip of the ship, that thin area that no one else dared to tread for fear of fall. He stood, arms crossed, and stared out at the expanse of ocean. It had been too long since his last departure. Even if Spain was sending him on a goose chase, he was complacent, simply because he was finally able to sail again.

The wind blew in his hair, the sea dotted its salty kisses on his face. He paid no mind, however, because this was what he loved most about being on the open water.

For some god-awful reason, Spain had insisted that France attend as well, though he had, in turn, insisted he take his own ship. Captain Antonio warned that he would get lost, but he had paid no mind.

Foolish bugger.

In a way, though, Great Britain himself was the foolish one; he had allowed Spain to convince him to take this journey when he knew there was nothing but sea at this part of the world. He knew that they would simply continue sailing until they ended up back where they started or fell off the face of the earth.

Why had he taken such a chance? It was hard to say, really. Partly, he wanted to see Spain prove him wrong, because he wanted new places to control and new things to make a profit with. The other reason was because he was a man of the seas, and he had been sitting at home for far too long.

He stood there until even the moon had retired before he did the same. They really were going nowhere.


Months passed, and Captain Arthur was certain they were going to die from either falling off the earth or from the scarcity of rations. The crew was growing restless, and there was talk of mutiny circulating. Captain Arthur himself was growing uneasy, though, of course, he would never dream of revealing that to anyone but himself.

Another few weeks passed, and many of the crew members had died of scurvy or some other malady. Most of the survivors had already attempted mutiny; most of the crew was in the prison barracks now, if their corpses had not been thrown overboard.

Still, Captain Antonio remained adamantly optimistic, attempting to encourage the others as well, though that was to no avail. "This minor trial will be insignificant when we reach the New World!" He would promise.

"Belay that talk," Captain Arthur chastised. "What ye have found will likely be no more than a piece of a continent we have already seen that has not been civilized."

"Well then," the Spaniard would respond, a smirk on his face, "that would make the land new, would it not?"

To this, Great Britain had no answer.

That day, as he was standing at the foremost point of the ship as usual, Captain Arthur spotted something just at the edge of the ocean. He called a crewmate over, who eagerly handed him a spyglass, and when he looked through it, he saw land.

"Land ho!" He shouted, and the crewmate ran off echoing his shout.

Eagerly, Britain looked through the spyglass and to the considerably large chunk of land that just continued to get larger as they approached.

It was no small island, that was for sure.

"Blimey!" Captain Arthur shouted in excitement. He simply could not refrain himself. Looking through the spyglass, he was certain he had never seen those breeds of trees before.

Captain Antonio joined him, ripped the spyglass from his hands in his haste and looked through it himself. "Sink me, that's it!" Spain lowered the spyglass from his eye and looked out at the land. Great Britain followed suit, both looking at it with lust-filled eyes.

That's going to be mine, Captain Arthur promised. Instead of voicing this aloud, he turned around and urged the crewmates to work faster. "Smartly, there, men, or it'll be the cat for ye!"

Captain Antonio joined him, and they went about yelling at the crewmates, urging them to work faster to get there sooner. "Handsomely, me hearties! Handsomely!"

The survivors of the crew were becoming restless as well, knowing that their journey was nearly complete and a new world was waiting for them.

Soon enough, they reached the coast. Captain Arthur, unable to control his excitement, immediately threw a rope overboard and used it to give him bearings down the side of the ship. Captain Antonio followed, but clumsily landed on his backside. Apparently, he had not de-boarded a ship in such a manner before. Captain Arthur had to fight to hold back the laughter.

They waded through waist-deep water until they reached pure land. The rest of the crew were under strict orders to stay on the ship until everything was shipshape. After that, they had to find some sort of natural provisions on the island.

When they were alone, Captain Antonio confided, "There is a wild lass roaming this land."

Great Britain's ears perked up. "Eh?"

"By my grave, I swear it! A child runs through these woods. He seems to be the spirit of this strange new land."

"Hmm," Captain Arthur responded, though in his mind he whispered, That lass will be mine. Of course, he could not tell Spain this. Spain had so graciously delivered him to this land, after all.

"We will have a better chance of finding the lass if we part ways," Captain Antonio mused.

"Aye," Captain Arthur agreed. They split then.

The flora growth on this land was amazing; Great Britain could not move forward without using his blade to chop down plantlife that lay before him. He struggled like this for a great while, and began to feel a bit distressed – it were as though this forest land stretched on forever, with no other human beings in sight.

Finally, he chopped through flora that gave way to a seemingly-endless meadow. Great Britain looked around in awe at the beauty; it was something he had not seen for quite some time. He could feel the presence of nature-spirits, and they were quite strong entities as well, having never been oppressed by civilization. Captain Arthur breathed this all in, slowly began taking steps forward, into the meadow.

Then further into the meadow he traveled, the stronger the sound of a child's laughter became. Captain Arthur sped up his pace in his excitement. He had to find the boy before Spain. It would be easier to declare his property then, if he had found it first.

Captain Arthur hurried towards the sound of the laughter, and the child's form began to become visible. He was nearly running now in his haste, desire, greed.

He slid to a halt when he saw the things around the child, the things the child was laughing at.

Animals, mostly. But there was something else.

Pixies. Faeries. Brownies. Spirits of this land.

Great Britain stared for a long while, captivated. It had been a long time since he had admitted to the existence of such beings; after he had converted to Christianity, it was forbidden to speak of such things. They were works of the Devil, not of God.

His knees were wobbly, now, his Paganism screaming to be expressed one more. Swallowing, Captain Arthur continued to approach, though he was going at a much slower pace now. Now things would get tricky.

One of the spirits noticed him and brought the attention to the rest, who immediately fled. The child called out to them, distressed, then turned to face the object of their flight.

His eyes were a shocking blue, his hair cornstarch blonde. He had a cowlick, but that only made him more cherubic.

As Britain approached the boy, he backed up. It looked like he was crying, but Captain Arthur could not be sure. "W-who are you?" The boy whimpered.

Great Britain bent down to his level. "Me name…" he began, trying to make his voice sound soft and approachable, "…is Great Britain."

There was silence. The boy whimpered again, but did not back up any further.

"What is…your name?" Captain Arthur spoke slowly, trying his best to speak correct English instead of slang. He doubted the child knew much of his native language.

This seemed to distress the boy. "I…I…I don't think I have a formal name," he admitted.

Great Britain was surprised at how well the boy could speak English. He nodded. "You…'re young still. And…no other…people…live here?" It was hard to break a speaking habit he had harbored for years, even if it was only for a moment.

"Lots of people live here," the boy corrected him. Captain Arthur raised his brow in surprise. "But they're not unified. They move in separate tribes, and they all have a different name for me…" The boy collapsed onto his behind, buried his head in his palms. "It's…really hard…not having a real name."

Captain Arthur took the opportunity to approach the boy. Gently, he touched his palm to the boy's shoulder, trying to comfort him. The boy looked up and into his eyes in surprise. Great Britain noticed with a frown that the boy was crying a little. "You have a name to me," he whispered.

"H-huh?" The boy sniffled.

"Everyone's very excited about you," Captain Arthur continued. "They call you the New World."

"'New World'?" The boy sniffled, his nose scrunching in distaste. "B-but…I'm not a world, I'm a country…"

"The likes of which none have seen before," Great Britain responded with a smile. "You're going to grow up to become very famous." He was getting a little better at talking normal English now; it was all coming back to him…

Captain Antonio broke through the brush of forest, then, his arms full of some red fruit Britain had never seen before. "Look what I've found!" He declared happily, biting into one like it was candy. "These buggers are everywhere."

Spain caught sight of the new country, then, and dropped his bounty. "Ah, the lass." He approached quickly, too quickly for the child, it seemed; the baby nation whimpered, tears gathering once more, and hid behind Great Britain's leg, pulling the fabric of his pants as a makeshift shield.

The Spaniard's eyes squinted, probably already suspecting what the Briton was about to say.

Stiffening his jaw, Captain Arthur announced, "This is my colony now."


A/n

So this is a story about how England found America, and it's gonna go through their entire relationship, prolly up to the Revolutionary War. It's meant to be angsty and sad, no pairings or anything like that.

I'm trying my best to keep the history and facts correct, so please correct me if I did something wrong :D

I used a website as a resource for the pirate talk, but it seems to no longer be up...If I find it, I'll post it :D

I know Arthur kinda stopped the pirate-y talk towards the end, but...eh, he was talking to Alfred, who wouldn't understand pirate talk anyways :p And it's really hard to write in a dialect that's no longer used 0o, and that never was used when you were around o0. It was fun though :D

Antonio was holding/eating tomatoes. X3 Yes, they were discovered in the New World! Where would Antonio be without us? :]

Please let me know how this is so far, if you're interested in more, etc. I kinda like this, but it takes a lot to write...Lemme know what you think! X3