Hetalia Chronicles I: The Seven Years War

The room was silent. The two parties sat opposite each other in their respective military uniforms. A clock could be heard ticking, slowly, in the background; as if time itself was slowing down for this historical moment.

The year was 1763, and in the well lit hall in the glorious city of Paris sat four people. On one side were the victors, England and Portugal. On the other side sat the losers in the conflict, France and Spain, who both had a look of foreboding gloom on their faces.

"To the victor..." England began, as he passed them a piece of paper "...Goes the spoils".

France picked up the paper, on it were a list of several demands for colonial exchanges in America and Africa

"I hope you find these terms, acceptable? In exchange for the entirety of your Canadian territories I will return your beloved sugar island Guadalupe, also I will be taking your African land in the Senegal. For you, Spain." The Englishmen turned to Spain, who peered up from the document "I will return Cuba in exchange for your Floridian possessions, also I want you to stop trying to influence Portugal".

Although France was gaining his sugar colony back, itself far more profitable than Canada, the loss to his prestige was unfathomable. England had crushed the mighty French army and left him facing bankruptcy, all he wanted to do was reach across the table and slam that English bastard's face into the table. Yet, in order to save what little else he possessed, picked up a quill, and scribbled something at the bottom. Spain, following orders, did the same. He was glad about not losing Cuba, but still found himself feeling low. The glorious Spanish Empire, which held the Americas for far longer than the other Europeans, was defeated by his two largest and, until recently, far weaker rivals.

"Here" France spoke, sliding the treaty back over to England "Have your way, zer is  nothing I can do about it anyway". He then stood up, glared for a few minutes, and then stormed out of the room. Spain followed suit.

"I can't believe that bastard! How? HOW could he ave won! He must have cheated! Used that black magic of his! yes! zat was the only way he could win!" France shouted, slamming his fist against the wall

"You're starting to scare me". Spain spoke quietly, France slumped against the wall and slid down

"Austria, Sweden, even Russia couldn't win! zat Prussian bastard is really getting on my nerves". He clenched his fist, as if ready to kill right then and there. Prussia, with the help of England and Hanover, had defeated the Austrians, Swedes and Russians all at once and managed to hold on to Silesia. at Rossbach he defeated the French, at Leuthen he defeated Austria and at Zorndorf he beat back the merciless Russia. Even when Sweden entered the war and the Russians and Austrians had entered Berlin Prussia still managed to come out on top, and the Treaty of Hubertusburg managed to end the war with a complete status quo.

"...And England? or "Britain" as he's now calling himself, he took Canada! My precious Canada! This is unforgivable!" France continued his rant as Spain looked on. He finally mustered the courage to speak "I think you need a drink, friend" He said with a faint smile. And he heaved France out of the building. The two friends, although completely penniless and war exhausted, went out in search of a fine wine.

For England, this was his moment. After over 600 years of constant defeats at the hands of France, Spain and Scotland, was finally in control. He had almost ALL of North America, colonies in India and Africa and, most importantly, had humiliated and shamed the great bourbon Frenchman who for so long boasted of his large, rich empire.

"So, what will you do now?" Portugal, England's long standing ally, spoke. the eyebrowed gentleman turned to him and said "The world". Portugal looked at him with faint expression of fear before sighing and getting up "I'm going to Brazil, It was fun fighting with you again".

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"ZAT ENGLISCH PRICK! HOW DARE HE DO ZISH!" The shouts could be heard all across Berlin. Prussia sat there at his desk, clenching the document about the treaty. "HE FORGOT ALL ABOUT ME!"

For it is true that Prussia was now a major power in Europe, and had several North German countries in his sphere of influence, he got nothing. No land, riches or prestige like his fellow combatants. In fact, England hadn't even mentioned Prussia in his treaty. "ZEY ARE LAUGHING AT ME, I KNOW IT! ZEY SHALL NOT FORGET ZIS! WHAT ZHEY DID TO ZE GREAT, AWESOME KINGDOM OF PRUSSIA!" He exclaimed, pointing at a portrait he had on his wall of England and Prussia shaking hands. He suddenly began to smile

"No matter, no matter, I shtill have Silesia, I am more powerful zan Austria and I am SHTILL awesome!" He walked over to a table, containing a map of Europe, and slammed his hands down "shoon, all of Germany will be mine, and zen, I can finally deshtroy that Austrian bastard and his annoying girlfriend, KsesesesSHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!" His evil, piercing laugh echoed in that room, as he plotted, fantasied and dreamed of future conquests.

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The young, blonde man looked out of his window. Amongst the tattered, war torn city stood a newly erected flagpole. But it wasn't the Fleur-du-lise he had been used to seeing, it was instead the red, white and blue cross of the armies that marched into the city. He hurried down the stairs and out the front door. Armed men with bright, scarlet jackets holding muskets marched around the city whilst ordinary, grubby civilians were clearing up their livelihoods. The city, having suffered a crippling siege, was re-building itself as people attempted to restart their lives.

"E-excuse me" the young man spoke, very softly, a guard in a scarlet coat turned to him.

"Wh-What is happening here?"

"We're garrisoning the city, in case of any problems".

With that; he turned, once again, to the flagpole and knew fully what had happened. His older brother had lost to the people he spoke so fiercly about. The future for him seemed problematic and he had a simple feeling of dread that soon, his culture and way of life, would forever become Anglo-Saxon. just like the other, more energetic, Person just across The Lakes.

For Canada, his world had just changed completely.