This Hetalia Story is loosely based off of the Play, My Fair Lady. Hope you enjoy.
My Fair Colony
England: Arthur Kirkland
France: Francis Bonnefoy
Delaware: Catherine Minner Jones
America: Alfred F. Jones
Sweden: Berwald Oxenstierna
Chapter 1: The Princess of New Sweden
The time was 1638…
Berwald Oxenstierna, for the first time stepped into the New World.
He took a few steps as he marvelled at the sights around him, holding up his hand to shield his eyes from the sun. Everywhere, there were endless fields and clean rivers. A light breeze passed by as he looked up to the clear sunset above him, and he breathed in the brisk air. Spacious plains, and plenty of water.
The perfect place for a colony.
Because back home, he knew it was time.
His home country, Sweden, was at its largest territorial extent it had ever been, and he enjoyed being one of the major dominant powers in Europe. He had plenty of land, and prosperity for his people to spare. Nothing could have gone wrong for him!
But then his princess died.
Catherine of Sweden had died that very year, in 1638, while raising the current Queen, Christina. Between her augmenting sickness and raising the future Queen of Sweden, Berwald knew it was her time soon. On her deathbed, Princess Catherine relayed her dying wish to Berwald to colonize for agriculture in the New World. Berwald swore that he would keep his promise of New Sweden to her.
So there he was, after months of travelling. Searching for a potential colonial site to start agriculture.
Looking around again, he seemed content with where he was, as there was plenty of space and plenty of water to grow maybe tobacco. He glanced up-river to where he knew some folks from Holland came to settle. Maybe he could use the river for fur-trading with them as well.
"Mm-hmn," he muttered to himself. "'t's settl'd th'n. Th's seem's l'ke ' good pl'ce t'…"
Something caught his eye in the distance. Peering into the sunlight, he could see a person in the distance. A person?
Berwald knew that there were several colonial people from Europe who were colonizing the New World, but he had also heard a rumor about a strange young boy that his Finnish friend, Tiino Väinämöinen, had found. The boy, by the name of Alfred, had physical features similar to those of Tiino, Arthur and Francis, such as similar hair and eye colour. Since then, other dominant European powers, such as Arthur, an Englishman, and Francis, a Frenchman, had been fighting tooth and claw to prove that the boy was their "little brother."
On top of that, thirteen other boys and girls had been occasionally sighted with this strange boy, Alfred, which made Berwald curious.
If Arthur and Francis have relatives here, could I have any kinspeople here in the New World? Berwald wondered. A foster daughter, or maybe a niece?
Moving closer, he noticed the person to be gently hewing away at a field of corn and other agricultural fields.
As he approached the person, Berwald hesitated. It was a dishevelled young girl! She was wearing an old grey dress that was tattered along the fringe, and her messy, dirty blonde hair was braided across her shoulder. She looked rather tall for her age, too. Maybe she was around fifteen, or fourteen? She seemed very different from the other indigenous people he had seen… And neighbouring villages were at least a two day's walk away.
The girl stopped slashing away at the corn stalks, as she turned to Berwald, startled at her visitor. He took a step back, afraid that he might have frightened her. However, the girl gave a slight smile and took a cleaned ear of corn from a basket she carried, and held it out to Berwald.
"Th-th'k ya…" Berwald smiled as he took the food from the girl. She seemed amiable enough, but what struck Berwald was that this girl looked vaguely similar to him. Tall, fair dull-blue eyes, blond hair, similar skin tone. As he peeled away some leaves, he asked her: "D… d'd I' scare ya? I thou'ght ya'd run."
The girl slowly turned and cocked her head, and then shook it as Berwald gasped.
"No," she answered passively in a heavy Scandinavian accent. "Letely I heve bin figuring out who I really am."
"You c'n speak m' language?" Berwald asked in amazement. Maybe I do have relatives here after all! He thought to himself.
"Yes," the girl answered as she carried her basket. She then pointed up-river. "Thet man with ze pointy hair taught me ze basicska."
Berwald laughed to himself. She was probably talking about the man from Holland that he knew. The Dutch were big on fur-trading. Perhaps he wanted to raise his own colonies, too.
"Wh'ts your n'me?" Berwald finally asked as the girl turned back to him.
"My neme iss Catharina…"
"Catharina…" Berwald echoed.
"Berwald, please come here."
Berwald immediately heeded his summonings as he quickly ran to the bedside, where Princess Catherine lay. He then knelt down and clasped the cold hand of the dying girl as he looked into her eyes. Her visage was very pale and sickly, even more so than usual. Despite his whole nation's prosperity, nothing could overshadow his grief for his royalty.
Berwald, sensing her fever, quickly darted upwards for her medication, but was stopped by Princess Catherine's heavy, cold hand on his arm. Looking back in desperation, Berwald saw her tired, blue eyes.
Swallowing hard, Berwald nodded as he knelt back at the bedside. The girl rolled over on her bed, turning to see Berwald's face, gently touching it with her hand.
"I wish I could have seen it," she whispered as she closed her eyes. "The paradise of the New World." She coughed ever so slightly. Berwald then wiped her mouth with a silk cloth, and was alarmed to see tints of red as he drew the cloth from her mouth.
"N-no," he spoke, realizing what was happening. "You're goin' t' go with me. We're b'th going together."
"You will go without me," she responded, as Berwald felt her grasp weaken. "That's an order. Even if I were healthy, I would only be a burden…"
"N'no, you mustn't say that," Berwald pleaded.
"Go," she said as she closed her eyes for the last time. Her grasp weakened once more as she let her limp arm fall. "It's so beautiful over there…"
Berwald wiped a tear as he simply sat at her bedside for some time. Finally rising, he reverently put her arms across her chest. His princess was gone. Now, all he had was her dying wishes, and Berwald swore he would not disappoint her.
"As you wish, My Fair Lady."
To Be Continued