[Fanfiction] Neutral

[zodiac-crab.livejournal.com]

Title:  Neutral
Genre:  Drama, with a little angst and a tid-bit of fluff.
Pairing(s):  UK with Union and Confederacy
Rating: PG
Summary:  The reason why England stayed neutral.
Author’s Note:  This is my first usxuk piece!  The inspiration of this one-shot came from otoshigo’s lovely fanart called Some Southern Persuasion.  I was drawn to the piece and my inner muse started to write (even though I have three fanfics to do, homework, and toying with an usxuk fic idea). 
Disclaimer: Do not own anything. 

 

“How does this war benefit me personally?” England asked with disinterest.  He slowly crossed his legs and folded his hands under his chin.  His green eyes studied the two men that were standing in his parlor. 

In truth, he was interested in the men.

The men painfully reminded him of someone that he held dearly to his heart.  One man stood in the corner.  His posture was stiff and his handsome face was formed into a scowl.  He was dressed in a simple blue suit that was popular in the United Kingdom and the familiar cowlick stood out while the rest of his golden hair was perfectly groomed.  The second man was standing in the middle of the room.  His posture was loose but England could sense the gentleman upbringing in the man.  His grey suit was in the latest French style and his brilliant blue eyes were framed with glasses.

“Cotton,” the man in grey drawled out.  The accent was clearly Virginian.

England kept his face neutral as his heart broke.  It reminded him of the blue eyed teenager that followed him around before the Revolutionary War.  He loved that accent but now it sounded perverse.  The accent did not belong to that man.

What happened to my little colony?  England thought as he kept his silence.  Are you gone forever?

“Cotton,” he repeated.  He could tell the southern man that he had a large surplus of cotton.  “How can cotton benefit me?”

“You depend on it,” the man in grey answered as he inspected his nails.  “Without it, your industry will collapse.”

England was starting to dislike this man. 

He made sure that any emotion did not appear on his face.  “If I accept,” he unfolded his hands and let them rest on the arms of the chair, “what should you be called?”

There was a loud cough from the corner but England ignored it.  The man in front of him gave a slow easy smile.  “Formally, I would be known as the Confederate States of America,” he said.  “You would be able to call me, Confederacy.”

“Confederacy,” England repeated.

He hated the name.  It was not the name of his beloved colony.

The sound of a throat being cleared broke the silence of the room.  England tore his eyes away from Confederacy and stared at the man in blue.  The scowl was still there and something flashed in the man’s eyes.  England bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face calm when he recognized the emotion.

He’s hurt?

“President Lincoln and his cabinet would like me to remind you that this is an internal conflict of the United States of America,” the man in blue said nasally as he folded his arms in disdain.  England found himself drawn to the accent.  “Intervention from a foreign power would be considered an act of war.”

England used all of his strength to keep his face perfectly neutral.  He did not dare to raise an eyebrow at the man.  An unspoken threat was made and England knew exactly what it was.  His country was experiencing a crop shortage.  The United States have been shipping grain to him.  If there was war, then there would be no grain.  No grain, his people will starve. 

“And you are?” England was impressed that his voice did not betrayed the emotions that were storming in his body.

“Union,” the man in blue replied.  “Otherwise known as the United States of America.”

Union intrigued him.  The way the man positioned his weight to the right, his rough calloused hands and his eyes constantly dart around the room reminded him of his beloved little colony.  The man even sounded like his little colony, expect for the nasally accent.  England thought the accent was enduring.

He raised his hand to his mouth.  Part of him wanted to recognize the Confederate States and go to war.  That small part wanted to see America fail as a country.  The other part did not want to be involved.  The thought of grain shipments ending scared him and he wondered what other liabilities would be involved if he partake in the war. 

What if Confederacy wins?

His heat tightened in sadness.  He did not like the answer to that question.  He cannot go through the pain of losing America again.  He knew that deep down that if the Union loses the war, America would be lost forever.  No more would he see the blue eyed child.  He would only have happy memories.

America is already gone.  He stared at the two men.  These separate nations have destroyed him. 

“England,” Confederacy drawled out.  He walked to the side of the chair and kneeled.  “My United Kingdom,” he whispered as he pressed his lips to England’s cheek.  “You will always have the support of the Confederate States.”  He let his tongue traced the shell of his ear.  “I will personally make sure that you will benefit from this war.”

England forced himself not to show any disgust from the act.  He ignored Confederacy’s teasing tongue as he turned his attention to Union.  He was curious if the man was willing to go just as far as the newly formed southern country.  Instead, the man let out a snort of disapproval and turned around.  His posture went even stiffer and England could see that the man was shaking in anger.

He had his answer.

He pushed himself out of the chair and walked towards a large window that was facing away from his company.  He stared through the window with his hands clasped firmly behind his back.  The view was his garden filled with roses and wildflowers that his little colony gave him.  The sky was a deep grey as rain pelted the ground.  He could hear the sound of thunder rumbling from a distance.

“I shall remain neutral in the war between the States,” England announced as he watched the rain streak down on the pane of glass.

“I will set up an embargo!” Confederacy threatened.  “Your industry will fall!”

England fought the urge to turn around.  “My people are a resourceful bunch,” he said without emotion.  “We will make do in what we have.”  He let out a huge sigh that sounded like boredom but actually it was sadness.  “You know where the door is, you can see yourself out.”

A sound of disgust was heard and then the door slammed shut.  England let out a shaky sigh and leaned his head against the window pane.  He let the cool glass calm him down and took a big deep collective breath.  “What happened to you, America?”

“How did you know that it was me?”

England finally let out a smile and turned around.  “Your stance,” he answered and walked up to the younger nation.  His hands brushed the lint off from the man’s suit.  “You always had a military stance.”  A frown formed on his face.  “I’ll admit, I thought I lost you forever America.”

“Union,” America corrected.  “I went to bed as America and I woke up as Union.”

“You’re still my America,” England whispered.  He clutched the younger nation’s suit jacket when anger and sadness finally erupted.  “Let me help you!” he cried out as he gripped the suit lapels.  “I can give you anything you want.  Just ask and you shall receive!”

America wrapped his arms around England’s body and pulled him close.  He rested his cheek on the older nation’s head.  “This is my war,” he whispered.  “I can’t have anyone fighting it for me.”

“America…”

“I have to go,” the younger nation replied as he pulled himself away from England.  “My boat is leaving in an hour.”

“Please be careful,” England said in a tight voice.  “I can only handle one America.”

America responded with a huge happy grin that he always gave when he was little and walked out of the parlor.  England stood in the middle of the room with his hand resting on his chest.  He felt his broken heart slowly mending as he realized that he have not lost his little colony. 

His America was alive.

He was broken.

But he was alive.

Comments

[yellownovella.livejournal.com]

This is lovely - I love England being able to tell who the 'real' america is. Though I know that some of my southern countrymen would feel a little put out :P Whatever, rednecks - we have the president, we have America!

[zodiac-crab.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

I based Union and Confedarcy from England and France. It somehow worked.

[kasumicc.livejournal.com]

I agree, this was really sweet. I think it's a fair reason for England to stay neutral :)

[ihatesasuke.livejournal.com]

Urgh...so sad, but then at the end there's this overflow of cute. x3
I love this, seriously! It's just...oh~ -gushes-

Great job! I really liked this fic. A lot. <3
Amazing.

[aki-yasu.livejournal.com]

this is BEAUTIFUL

[hikari0205.livejournal.com]

I normally don't comment on anything on the comms, mainly because I'm rather shy, but I felt I really needed to with this.

Well .. Where to start? My God, this is a wonderful fic. The characteristics of the characters are spot on and my heart totally broke at the end with 'Union' and England's conversation. Especially with England's eruption of emotion at the end.

Wonderful fic. I'm not normally that into fics of this time period as I don't know much about it, unfortunately, but I enjoyed reaading this very much. You're a very talented writer. I look forward to reading more. :)