A/N: I was babysitting two little kids. So I finally get tired of playing and want to take a break, so I pick a random Disney DVD off my shelf and pop it in. Pocahontas was the movie that started playing.

So I'm watching the movie when all of a sudden a plot bunny invaded my brain and held it hostage. To save my brain I start typing a story about Native America and her two sons when I realize something: 1) That's the same copy/paste plot as Greece, Egypt and all the fanfics with Native America. 2) Native America was, technically, never a formed country/empire/etc (Unlike the Aztecs and such). 3) No one has a fanfic that features the Inuits.

So I'm pondering what to do when I remember that Aurthur/England used to be a pirate. That made me remember several fanfics where sudden personality changes like Pirate!England or Conquistador!Spain were explained as a nations sudden shift in culture, or as them dying but the nation they represent didn't die so they were kinda' reborn.

So I did some quick math. If other countries can die and be reborn; why not Native America? Native America wasn't even a formed country, so the representation couldn't die when the land became a new country. So that got me to thinking...Why can't Alfred be Native America?...

The skin and hair color change could be explained as a lot of white people suddenly coming in and taking up space (I guess, it doesn't help that I think I'm spewing bull***, but I swear that all this sounds better in my head). And as for the blue eyes...Matthew has violet eyes...that's not normal.

Then thinking of Matthew made me think of the under appreciated Inuits and if Matthew could have been their personification...

In the end I'm just trying to do something a tiny bit more original than: Native America was Alfred and Matthew's mother/grandpa and died when England came over.

...You guys are aware that there are still Native Americans around...

Disclaimer: I own nothing from Hetalia.

Warning: Inuit!Canada, Native!Alfred, Mentions of OC!Mexico OC!West Indies OC!Olmec OC!Greenland and OC!Aztec. My grammar. And hinted character death.


The name danced across the surface of his mind; so familiar yet so foreign to him. Its a dream that refuses to fade upon awakening and he couldn't possibly hate it more.

When he thought of the name he thought of slender hands, dark skin stretched tightly around strong arms, and long hair twisted in to a black braid. The feel of a skinned animal covering the body, protecting the figure from the arctic cold. Harpoon in hand he set out for the hunt...

Matthew pushed the thought to the back of his mind, those images had no right to be there. He was not whoever that man was.

Kumahi? Kalmigo? Kumajiro? Whoever; walked across Matthew's line of sight. The polar bear's eyes roamed the kitchen as he strolled towards his food-bowl. And just like that more images flash before his eyes.

The figure stood tall, his hand firmly clasped onto the beast's pale fur. He was the master here and the beast would soon know it. "It's useless," a deep, commanding voice spoke in a language Matthew both could and couldn't understand, "You know whom the victor is."

Matthew pushed himself back into reality with much more force this time. "This is ridiculous."

Yet in the back of his mind, something was pushing the idea that, no, it wasn't ridiculous at all.


That name was just like the last, an unwanted imaginary that stubbornly played across the recesses of his mind. And just like the other name it came with its own flashing images.

But unlike with the other imaginary man, he didn't see this one from the figures eyes. In these images he saw a young man from the perspective of what he assumed was the figure that came with the first name.

The young man had the same dark skin stretching across a lean and toned body. The same black hair decorated with feathers and beads falling loosely down an exposed back. The young man was still trying to slip on what Matthew recognized as Native American style clothing from his brother's region.

The young man reached for a bear pelt, "Nuvak will be coming to my lands soon." The man paused for a moment before chuckling to himself. "But you are already surrounded by cold. You even seem to enjoy it big brother."

And then the young man turned toward the figure and Matthew's heart would always stop at this part because that face was Alfred's and even though the skin was dark all he could see was his (assumed) twin with those deep blue eyes and that nose and that jawline and that same silly/happy expression...

Then the young man would slip the bears head over his eyes as the pelt fell over his torso and he'd look completely different.

Then the nightmare would be over for one more night.


This name made his heart hurt and that made this name worse than the last one (but still not as bad as the first). This name was bitter-sweet and whenever it crossed his mind he had to make a whole batch of pancakes to wash away the bitterness.

That girl with the same dark skin and the same black hair just made it so hard to enjoy his pancakes. It seemed like her green eyes were always so full of that same fire Alfred's was always full with, and that seemed to always lead her into trouble somehow.

It really didn't help that she lived in the hottest, most preparatory, venomous snake and poison-plant invested piece of land he (no, no, no, the figure) ever imagined.

"Calm down big brother," she crossed her arms over her chest, the brightly colored (Meso-American) clothing only making her eyes seem brighter. "I know these lands."

And he (no, the figure) took her word for it.

But she got weaker and weaker till she was spit up (she wasn't just Meso-American anymore, but she was Olmec now). And then one day she brought children from her home and claimed them as their younger siblings. "Come on Atka; this one has the same strict expression as you."

And then...she was gone.

She faded away as bright feathers and small flames. The young Alfred impostor had caught a feather for each of the others to keep. "I want to remember our little sister."


Another girl came with this name. Though not bitter like the last.

His imagination made her look a bit like a female Cuba and he hated that. Though the fact that she and tattoos all over her body, had a long thin needle through her nose, and wore much brighter clothing threw Matthew off.

The woman was the youngest of the four he'd seen so far. The almost Cuba impostor fiddled with a loopy ear piece and kept a firm gaze on the water before her. She held the hi(the figures!) harpoon above her head, ready to strike.

"I don't see why you fish that way." Not-Alfred stated. "To catch a fish you have to move with the river. Fish can sense the smallest disruption in the water, so you must be part of the water."

Not-Cuba snorted. "Don't give me your Shamanic lectures."

She thrust her spear into the water and missed completely.

"If you do fish like Atka you have to not miss." Not-Alfred remarked.

Not-Cuba replied by hurling the harpoon toward his head, just barely missing when Not-Alfred didn't move his head at all.

"You're not very good at aiming Anupama."

He doesn't know the children's name's. And Matthew preferred it that way because none of these people were real and he's afraid if he thinks about it he'll start seeing things about them too.

But he still sees flashes of an Inca and a Maya and an Aztec.

There were other children but they lived too far South and the figure didn't see them as often. But there was a 'P' from were Brazil was now, and that girl looked just like Brazil did when she was a colony for Portugal.


A tiny little baby. A girl that the figure found in the snow. The poor thing must have been abandoned.

The tiny little baby with a round, swollen face and rapidly dulling large violet eyes, her dark skin paling as her short life tried to escape her. That baby took one look at the figure and her eyes shined with hope. "Ddwa."

The figure shifted uncomfortably because that word meant father.

The figure turned away from the babe, fully intending on walking away and leaving the girl to her fate.


But how could he just walk away when she was calling him that? When she sounded so desperate and confused?

"Wait for me Ddwa!"

The answer: he couldn't. So he begrudgingly accepted her presence; took her in and taught her his ways. Before too long the figure's brothers and sister found out about her and she was accepted as his daughter with open arms.

"Congratulations Atka." Not-Cuba held up a mug.

The Aztec, whom was holding a tiny girl that looked a little too much like Mexico, nodded his approval. "It'll be nice to have a female playmate for Tialoc."


His own name. The only name he ever had.

The name that made him lost.

The name that made him disappear.

The name that made him think of the figure; fighting against Denmark, trying to take back what was his and his alone because his daughter deserved better than that. The polar bears at his side falling because Denmark had more men and his Inuits had lost the will to fight at this point.

The figure couldn't think clearly though because at this point he had lost everything and no matter how this fight ended it wouldn't ever be the same. But he had to get his daughter back because she was all he had and he was all she had...

In his blind rage he missed his strike.

That was all Denmark needed.

"...that is the price of living again."

"I accept."

Except none of that happened.

Because Matthew didn't have dark skin and neither did Alfred. And because Cuba never mentioned a mother/sister/him being a woman. And because Maria never mentioned a father or anything about the Aztec's. And because if Greenland never...

Greenland did make it known that Denmark killed her father.

But that was just a coincidence.

Besides, Greenland's name was Abeline.

...Why did saying that make his heart hurt?...


It sounded so wrong on his brother. And it just didn't look right when Alfred turned his head in acknowledgment to Arthur.

But Matthew tells himself he shouldn't think that and that Alfred is his brother's name and nothing will ever change that fact.

But something in his brain always muttered. "But Talli would be so much better." To which Matthew would reply with a 'Shut up' or an 'Alfred is just such a good name for him though.'


She still hates Spain. His assumed cousin just south of his brothers land.

Too this day she still glares daggers at him and a snide remark never fails to find its way out of her mouth. And it doesn't help that she and Cuba (and sometimes Panama) were the only nation South of Alfred that bothered to come to the World Meetings.

This only made things worse for Spain.

The problem was everyone thought she just hated Spain for the same reason India wasn't too thrilled about Arthur. That it till last week.

"It isn't about being a colony! It's about my papa! My daddy!" And with that she stomped off.

Alfred had seemed to fall into a short depression after that. And oh maple the look of regret on Spain's face.

But none of those things matter.

There is no Atka.

There is no Talli.

No Bada.

No Anupama.

No Mentlana.

"Who are you?"

"I'm Matthew; the guy that feeds you!"





Matthew's eyes widen in horror and he slapped a hand over his mouth too late.

The polar bear's head snaps up from his food dish, his eyes meet Matthew's and its like the bear's gaze is piercing his very soul. They both remain like that for what felt like hours (But was really only a few minutes) before the bears eyes fill with a new respect and awe.

"Oh Atka. I remember you." With that Kumajiro turns back towards his food dish. "You look different."