France wanders along the St Lawrence riverside, stroking his chin thoughtfully as he goes. His idea to find an intercontinental route to the Northwest Passage was a bust, but nevertheless, he found the silver lining in their detour. More land with lots of timber, fish, furs, and fertile earth. They've been here for long enough to set up a small post, and France knows that it can get stronger in no time!

He glances over his shoulder, noticing the large cross that claimed this newfound earth for the French. The blond country smiles as the wind sends his hair flowing across his face, and he imagines that he looks quite dashing right now. Ah, he's just another beautiful being to grace this beautiful land.

"Monsieur France, we've got trouble!" one of his men calls, speaking fluently in his native tongue.

France's blue eyes widen with alarm as he turns to the man. The frazzled Frenchman skids right up to his country's side, his face flushed with effort as he draws in heavy breaths.

"Good sir, what's the matter?" France asks, also speaking in French.

"Indians! They've come to our door and demand to speak to you!"

France's surprise is evident once again, but a small spark of excitement can be seen in his fair countenance as well. In truth, he'd been thinking about the native peoples ever since he had set foot on this land. Stupid Britain had already arrived here around the same time as him, as well as snatching away little America from being France's little brother.

Francis needs the upper hand, and he knows just who can help him with that.

He lets out a long laugh and bows his head, dropping one eyelid in a playful wink. "Do not worry, my friend, I shall handle this."

He heads off back towards settlement, a charming smile on his face and the messenger trailing along behind him.

He arrives at the correct location swiftly, instantly catching sight of the cluster of natives gathered near the gate to their home. Most are men with sleek black hair and dark eyes, their faces browned. They're quite a contrast to the pale Europeans standing at the gate, each man looking anxious by their presence.

However, it's not the male warriors that catch France's eye.

There's one woman standing amongst them, but she is definitely their leader. She stands with her head high, an aura of confidence surrounding her and a welcoming sparkle burns in her warm brown eyes. Her skin is smoother than that of her men, her hair loose and flowing to almost halfway down her back. She's absolutely and alluringly beautiful.

She looks up the second that France is within earshot, their eyes locking. A mutual spark seems to pass, one that lets them know that the other is not just a simple human. They're both nations, and they know it the second they look at each other.

She murmurs a few words to her warriors, causing them to relax in an instant. She turns and strides from the group, her countenance wary but not hostile. France flashes a charming smirk and bows his head, reaching out and grasping her hand gently.

"Bonjour, mademoiselle, it is a pleasure to meet you," he greets in a more universal language, lifting her hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I am France. Might I be blessed with knowledge of your name?"

She arches an eyebrow at him, although her cheeks turn pink at his flirtatious words. If she's being honest with herself, she felt anxious about confronting these men. She already dealt with Britain beforehand, and he was...fine, in her eyes. A gentleman, sure, but not her type.

This man, France...he's different.

"You can call me First Nation," she tells him as he releases her hand. She spares him a smile. "Come, let's walk," she offers. "My people will speak with yours while we talk."

He smiles again. "Of course."

France was the first country to realize that, in order to settle North America, perhaps he'd need some help from the people who actually lived there. I know, who would've thought? Either way, while France was attempting to get into First Nation's good books (and her heart, while he's at it), Italy, Spain, and Britain were still attempting to find that Northwest Passage and settle some of the Americas. Incidentally, pretty much everyone but France ignored Canada for the time being. Spain got a part of modern-day Florida, Sweden and Netherlands snatched up some land along the east coast of what would be the US, and of course Britain couldn't resist getting his own piece of the prize.

It's funny to think that France's attempt at beating the others to the Northwest Passage actually guaranteed a long future ahead of French culture and influence in the land that would eventually be Canada. Good job, France!

The sounds of the early morning rouse France from sleep. He blinks a few times, trying to clear the hazy film of sleep from his bright eyes. First Nation lets out a long breath and presses her back against his chest, her hand grasping his own as she drags his arm around her shoulders like a second blanket.

He smiles and lets a soft laugh escape him, shutting his eyes again as he presses a lazy kiss on her shoulder. He lays for a little while, seeing the sky start to turn pink with the rising sun outside.

First Nation wakes as she feels him stirring, his warmth disappearing from her side. She rolls over to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, running his fingers through his sleek blond hair. Her face falls as she pushes herself up.

"Oh...you have to go?" she asks, her voice hardly a whisper as she bunches the blankets around her chest.

France swivels his head to look at her, a sad smile flickering across his face. "Désolé, mon amour, but my men need me. I can't stay for very long. Besides, you know how things are between our people nowadays."

She looks down, her dark hair falling across her face as she nods. "Of course. I...I understand." She pulls the blankets closer to her body, a sudden shiver running down her spine. She inhales and exhales slowly, trying not to look as sad as she feels.

Francis watches her, feeling slightly guilty at having to leave her so soon. Things have been less than pleasant between their people; trades and the different culture have mixed and created something unfamiliar and hard to control.

He turns and crawls across the bed, reaching out and resting his fingertips against her smooth chin. He turns her face to him as he sits, a charming smile brightening his face.

"Ah, mon che'rie, I have treasured this time that we have spent together," he murmurs. "And I promise, I will find some way to come and see you again as soon as I can."

Her eyes flutter shut as she leans into his touch. "I will miss you."

"As will I." He leans forwards and connects their lips for a second or two, lingering for as long as he can before he pulls away.

She grips his strong arms, her brown skin contrasting against the pale white of his as she steals another kiss. She really doesn't want him to go. If only he could stay and hold her for a little while longer, let her sleep against his warmth and make her forget about the troubles that have started popping up all around her many different peoples.

He's never spoken a lie to her about his feelings. He has treasured every moment, but his boss is calling for him to return to his country. France doesn't know when he'll be able to return, but he hopes that it'll be sooner than later. The last thing he wants is for First Nation to hate him, but with the way things are going...

"Mon coeur," he whispers. "Don't be so sad. I'd like my memories of you to be of your happiness."

She sighs and lets her hands fall from his body. "If you want."

Yeah, so, there was some problems going on. France's boss, King Francis I, was super excited about the riches and stuff that was found over there, so he was funding a lot of new explorations to the New World. Thing is, Europeans can be really insensitive about other cultures and that caused a few rifts amongst smaller First Nations communities. Harsh winters and scurvy killed the visiting Frenchmen often and a lot of forts had to be abandoned. That, and new diseases were introduced to the natives and caused strife.

See why the people didn't like First Nation and France's little romance? Yeesh.

Still, without that inter-racial breeding, Canada's future wouldn't look quite the same.