After World War Two (and after being pretty much shipped by good ol' Churchill) America decides it's time to let England know how he feels about him. It's a big mistake, because England turns him down. America keeps trying, England keeps refusing, but it's not because he outright doesn't like America- it's because every time America confesses it sounds like a joke, and part of England doesn't believe America because he doesn't think he's lovable. Happy ending not required, but it would be nice. <3
Bonus 1- America's innocent attempts to tell England how he feels turn into complete cracky disasters. Appearances of France trying to fix everything but just making it worse optional. Bonus 2- Not too much angst. 'Cause low self esteem is angsty enough!Anyway, please enjoy
( ... )
Part IX, cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 05:59:03 UTC
Perhaps these people across the water need help? Can we take care of them and give them better lives? That is why we are here, oui?
(He has a feeling, somehow, that he should know better than this - “Francis, get your head out of the clouds and listen to me for once, why do you think I demanded so many ships?” - but ignores it. He does not wish to waste time on such horrid thoughts, or consider at what price Rome’s favor came.)
Someone is moaning close by. He looks out but sees nothing, no movement. He hears the sound again and tries walking toward it.
The moans lead him to a small green lump strewn across a warrior’s chest. At first he thought it was the warrior who was making the noises, but Francis is glad that one is already out of his misery. An arrow through the eye - Mère de Dieu, what a horrible way to give up the ghost!
Francis leans over to inspect the lump, hesitantly reaching out and pulling away the green fabric. He pulls his hand back and clasps it over his mouth.
Mon Dieu, c’est un petit garçon! Goodness! But what
( ... )
Part IX, cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:03:46 UTC
Francis’ heart goes out to the boy, but he has not an inkling of what he should do in this situation. Eventually he grabs the clean clothes the servant left and slowly walks toward the boy. The boy snaps his head up; he can hear Francis’ shoes tapping against the floor. Why doesn’t he look me in the eye? Is he feral? Has he never had human contact before?
“You are English, oui? I promise not to harm you,” he says, as gently as he can. “Here, I got you some clean clothes.”
The boy ignores him and feels around on the floor, as though remembering his own dirty clothes. He fumbles with them and begins to dress himself.
Francis watches for a few moments before quietly leaning closer. He waves his hand in front of the boy’s face, but sees no reaction.
The realization hits him with so much force and shocks him so completely that he stumbles backward and lands on the floor: This scarred child is, in fact, no child at all - he is a nation, and he is neither mad nor feral, but blind.
Francis stares in wonder for quite some time. And, oh,
( ... )
Part IX, cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:07:23 UTC
“I said thank you…for defending me. And my name is Arthur.”
“You are very welcome, Arthur. Think nothing of it.”
Though he is not happy, a grateful Arthur smiles.
In the weeks that follow, Francis and Arthur are inseparable. Arthur, still not having recovered his eyesight, is completely dependent on Francis. Francis, for his part, refuses to let anyone else take care of Arthur, taking to his new role as big brother like a fish to water. (Big brother is a nicer name for it. Arthur is still unaware that William was crowned King of England in Westminster Abbey. When he finds out, when he finds out about everything - well. Francis prefers not to think about that
( ... )
Part IX, cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:10:53 UTC
Francis lies on his stomach and reaches for the grapes. “Besides - ” he starts, but his mouth goes dry.
“What?”
“It might be something you should get used to, maybe even learn how to speak like that.”
“Why on earth would I ever want to sound like you?”
“Well, it’s not a bad way of speaking, first of all! And second…now that this country’s been invaded, there’s going to be many changes. It would be easier for you not to resist.”
“Not to resist?” Arthur laughs. “You say that as though you were the one in charge!”
Francis rests his chin in his hand and looks away. He doesn’t have the heart to pursue it any further.
Arthur asks for another apple and Francis reaches to put one in his hands.
“Do you ever wear any other scent except lavender?”
“Do you not like it? You have never complained about it before.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It just makes you seem boring.”
“See! That’s exactly what I meant!” Francis shouts, waving an indignant finger Arthur can’t see. “You probably don’t even mean that, you brat, you only say things
( ... )
Part IX (the second half )
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:14:30 UTC
Rather than simply wash his face that morning, he dunks his entire head into his water basin. But the two young squires can still see the puffiness around his red eyes and descend upon him without hesitation.
The next morning, Arthur’s sight returns. He can feel a hotness on his face, and realizes it is the sun shining through the window. There’s a creamy redness behind his lids, and when he opens them -
His heart stops, drops in his chest, then picks up its pace double time. Everything is blurry, but he can make out colors and shapes, and his focus is rapidly sharpening.
His first thought is that he must find Francis and tell him the good news. Dear Francis! He has heard him laugh but never seen him smile. Surely, even though he is a Norman, he is the very best Norman of them all (lilies for purity, irises for good news).
Arthur looks around the room as he dresses. The castle seems to only be a temporary one, made of wood, but Francis’ room is extravagant. Is he some sort of noble? If so, he never mentioned it before…and where is
( ... )
Part IX (the second half ), cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:16:42 UTC
With a scream, Arthur rushes to the fireplace and tries to pluck out his cloak with his bare hands. His flesh burns and blisters but his brain does not even register the pain. One of the squires grabs him around his waist and pulls him away; the other has the nation - not his Francis, no, it can’t be - locked securely in his arms.
“Give me the poker!” Arthur wails, struggling against the larger boy, reaching for the fireplace. “Someone, get me a sword, a stick - something, anything!”
When it’s all over - when the fire dies out and the two squires are satisfied nothing salvageable remains of the cloak - they release their captives and stroll out of the room. Arthur sees them smile as they leave. Their smiles are horrible things, snarled lips and jagged lines of teeth.
Arthur pulls what’s left of his cloak out of the fireplace and weeps over it, the soot staining his face.
Francis reaches out a shaky hand. “Arthur - ”
“Don’t touch me!” Arthur shrieks, and Francis recoils as though Arthur had struck him. “Don’t you ever dare touch
( ... )
Part IX (the second half ), cont.
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:18:52 UTC
Francis once shuddered to think about Rome’s ghost haunting the battlefield at Hastings. Years later he can feel Guillaume’s ghost as he and Arthur fight against each other in a war that lasts a hundred years.
Arthur looks on in poorly disguised glee as Francis’ beloved maid is lead up to the stake. It was his arrow, after all, that unhorsed the girl at Compiègne and allowed her to be captured, shot from the very same longbow Arthur used to wound Francis at Agincourt. And what luck! To be able to buy her from the Burgundians for less than it took to build his manor house in Yorkshire!
“Maybe if God is really on your side,” he says, “she will die of suffocation from the smoke and be spared the agony of burning. That is, if she isn’t simply assumed into Heaven first, hmm?”
It took four guards to hold Francis back once he realized Jeanne was lost to him forever. It doesn’t take her long to die.
But Arthur never does anything by halves. “Burn her again.”
“What?!”“I want nothing left of her,” Arthur informs the executioner. “Burn her
( ... )
Part IX (the second half ), notes
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:23:12 UTC
Preview for Part X: “Have you ever known him to be a liar?” I’m thinking this will be the last chapter, and then we’ll have an epilogue.
Has anyone seen this picture before?: (http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsri85vM1K1r1ixq1o1_500.jpg) OH MY GAWD, this chapter was so emotionally draining. *lifelessly flails around on the floor* By the way, there’s an explanation of the Norman invasion in the notes. But…I don’t want to be a tool and go on and on about something that probably a lot of England/Arthur fans already know about? But then again, maybe there’s some newbies here to the fandom and/or history in general. *flails again* And I'm sorry I had to break the chapter up. >.<
Part IX (the second half ), notes
anonymous
December 30 2011, 06:25:15 UTC
*“A youth to whom was given so much of earth, so much of heaven, and such impetuous blood” from Wordsworth’s Ruth
*“Knowing that nature never did betray the heart who loved her” from Wordsworth’s Tintern Abbey (ironic considering his brother John, a sailor, died seven years later at sea)
*So Lord Byron seems to be most well-known today for his love poetry, but in my (rather humble) opinion those are actually his weakest poems. Dude was amazing at describing loneliness, especially the “Fuck tha police, I am me and I do what I want, even if that means I have to wander the earth alone for all eternity! Dude, what are you talking about, I’m not crying, it’s just raining all over my face…man, staying true to my own self is harder than I thought” kind. From Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage:-And Harold stands upon this place of skulls
( ... )
Re: Part IX (the second half ), notes
anonymous
December 30 2011, 11:56:39 UTC
I love love LOVE this story to bits. The history, the literature and omg, did I mention the history?
I love all the little tidbits and references that you leave here and there, like England liking both red and white roses, for instance - that's a reference to the future civil war, isn't it? And France saying Arthur will always have place at his house - reminded me of the hundred year's war even before you mentioned it.
Also, I nearly cried when Arthur said he wants to look for his brothers and live together with them again. One might say that the Union was his way of fulfilling that dream, albeit in a warped way.
And yes, this part was pretty dark and arthur was a bit of an arsehole but thankfully you do not make him a one-dimensional arsehole; reading your story one sees the bigger picture and how his past influences his present. And you write him amazingly; he's my favourite character and you do him justice, showing both his good and bad traits, his strength and his insecurities.
Author anon here
anonymous
December 31 2011, 21:48:44 UTC
Aw, thank you very much! I'm glad you're liking it! : D And I'm so glad to know everyone is enjoying the references to history and British (mostly English though ^^;) literature. I always worry that I'll come off as pompous, when really, I'm just a big Nerdy McGeekington! XD
He's my favorite character too, for so many reasons, and I'm glad I'm doing his personality at least a little right, lol. I think, for a show built around stereotypes, he's a very well-developed character -- there's just so many layers to his personality! Both good and bad, as you pointed out. And I'm trying to hit on that in the story. He's had some pretty harsh stuff happen to him, but that doesn't justify some of the things he's done, and I think he recognizes that when he's older and has become a "gentlemen." And thus why he feels unloved and unlovable and excuse me while I gross sob for an hour...
Re: Part IX (the second half ), notes
anonymous
December 30 2011, 15:05:54 UTC
How beautifu! This is an amazing story and I love every bit of it. I admit I was afraid of Joan of Arc´s part as I usually hate stories with her, but you give it a context and that made me happy. Burning her as Arthur´s coat burnt was a good addition and so was the fact that you mentioned that her Crown left her to die.
But, of course, the part I love the most was Hastings and its afterwards. Poor, dear England. It was wonderful what you did when talking about the fire born from despair and the water that keeps people away: it´s nice to see England in all his ferocious glory.
Author anon here
anonymous
December 31 2011, 21:37:20 UTC
Aw, thank you! And I agree about Joan of Arc (Poor girl! To be abandoned by everyone when you're in the enemy's clutches...I doubt I would've been so strong under the circumstances). It's a little cliche of me to use her, but...I just couldn't help it! XD
Re: Part IX (the second half ), notes
anonymous
December 30 2011, 15:14:11 UTC
Speachless anon is speachless! I'm seriously in love with this whole fill, by far my favourite on the whole meme! But I think this is the chapter I loved the most. A long, bittersweet journey through Arthur's (and Francis') youth that broke my heart in countless, very tiny pieces. It was so sad reading about their newborn friendship, knowing all too well how it was doomed to end. And how disappointed Arthur was when he found out who that kind, norman boy really was >.< And the fight after Joan's dead...You made my cry anon, seriously! I can still feel the lump in my throat
( ... )
Author anon here
anonymous
December 31 2011, 22:06:39 UTC
Wow, what a compliment, thank you so much! Bahaaa, I'm so sorry I made you cry, though! *hugs* I actually did some ugly sobbing of my own last night, reading through some stories on the meme. It's a good thing I rive arone.
It's funny you mention the FrUK thing because I can't wait to get back to writing some America in the next chapter! XD My OP (haven't heard from them lately, I hope they're okay...but they're probably just really busy with life at the moment, and I can relate to that >.<) wanted USUK but this thing quickly became a character study about England. I hope OP and other anons aren't disappointed...BUT. USUK will make a triumphant return in the next chapter. B)
And, lawl, the chair...I can be so dense sometimes. I guess it was this picture I saw (http://www.whataboutclients.com/archives/ib56corch1.jpg) and, not realizing it was sitting on a platform/pillar/whatchamathingy, was like, "WHOA, is that thing attached to the wall? I mean,
( ... )
Original request and previous chapters here: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/20749.html?thread=82831117#t82831117
After World War Two (and after being pretty much shipped by good ol' Churchill) America decides it's time to let England know how he feels about him. It's a big mistake, because England turns him down. America keeps trying, England keeps refusing, but it's not because he outright doesn't like America- it's because every time America confesses it sounds like a joke, and part of England doesn't believe America because he doesn't think he's lovable. Happy ending not required, but it would be nice. <3
Bonus 1- America's innocent attempts to tell England how he feels turn into complete cracky disasters. Appearances of France trying to fix everything but just making it worse optional.
Bonus 2- Not too much angst. 'Cause low self esteem is angsty enough!Anyway, please enjoy ( ... )
Reply
(He has a feeling, somehow, that he should know better than this - “Francis, get your head out of the clouds and listen to me for once, why do you think I demanded so many ships?” - but ignores it. He does not wish to waste time on such horrid thoughts, or consider at what price Rome’s favor came.)
Someone is moaning close by. He looks out but sees nothing, no movement. He hears the sound again and tries walking toward it.
The moans lead him to a small green lump strewn across a warrior’s chest. At first he thought it was the warrior who was making the noises, but Francis is glad that one is already out of his misery. An arrow through the eye - Mère de Dieu, what a horrible way to give up the ghost!
Francis leans over to inspect the lump, hesitantly reaching out and pulling away the green fabric. He pulls his hand back and clasps it over his mouth.
Mon Dieu, c’est un petit garçon! Goodness! But what ( ... )
Reply
“You are English, oui? I promise not to harm you,” he says, as gently as he can. “Here, I got you some clean clothes.”
The boy ignores him and feels around on the floor, as though remembering his own dirty clothes. He fumbles with them and begins to dress himself.
Francis watches for a few moments before quietly leaning closer. He waves his hand in front of the boy’s face, but sees no reaction.
The realization hits him with so much force and shocks him so completely that he stumbles backward and lands on the floor: This scarred child is, in fact, no child at all - he is a nation, and he is neither mad nor feral, but blind.
Francis stares in wonder for quite some time. And, oh, ( ... )
Reply
“You are very welcome, Arthur. Think nothing of it.”
Though he is not happy, a grateful Arthur smiles.
In the weeks that follow, Francis and Arthur are inseparable. Arthur, still not having recovered his eyesight, is completely dependent on Francis. Francis, for his part, refuses to let anyone else take care of Arthur, taking to his new role as big brother like a fish to water. (Big brother is a nicer name for it. Arthur is still unaware that William was crowned King of England in Westminster Abbey. When he finds out, when he finds out about everything - well. Francis prefers not to think about that ( ... )
Reply
“What?”
“It might be something you should get used to, maybe even learn how to speak like that.”
“Why on earth would I ever want to sound like you?”
“Well, it’s not a bad way of speaking, first of all! And second…now that this country’s been invaded, there’s going to be many changes. It would be easier for you not to resist.”
“Not to resist?” Arthur laughs. “You say that as though you were the one in charge!”
Francis rests his chin in his hand and looks away. He doesn’t have the heart to pursue it any further.
Arthur asks for another apple and Francis reaches to put one in his hands.
“Do you ever wear any other scent except lavender?”
“Do you not like it? You have never complained about it before.”
“It’s not that I don’t like it. It just makes you seem boring.”
“See! That’s exactly what I meant!” Francis shouts, waving an indignant finger Arthur can’t see. “You probably don’t even mean that, you brat, you only say things ( ... )
Reply
The next morning, Arthur’s sight returns. He can feel a hotness on his face, and realizes it is the sun shining through the window. There’s a creamy redness behind his lids, and when he opens them -
His heart stops, drops in his chest, then picks up its pace double time. Everything is blurry, but he can make out colors and shapes, and his focus is rapidly sharpening.
His first thought is that he must find Francis and tell him the good news. Dear Francis! He has heard him laugh but never seen him smile. Surely, even though he is a Norman, he is the very best Norman of them all (lilies for purity, irises for good news).
Arthur looks around the room as he dresses. The castle seems to only be a temporary one, made of wood, but Francis’ room is extravagant. Is he some sort of noble? If so, he never mentioned it before…and where is ( ... )
Reply
“Give me the poker!” Arthur wails, struggling against the larger boy, reaching for the fireplace. “Someone, get me a sword, a stick - something, anything!”
When it’s all over - when the fire dies out and the two squires are satisfied nothing salvageable remains of the cloak - they release their captives and stroll out of the room. Arthur sees them smile as they leave. Their smiles are horrible things, snarled lips and jagged lines of teeth.
Arthur pulls what’s left of his cloak out of the fireplace and weeps over it, the soot staining his face.
Francis reaches out a shaky hand. “Arthur - ”
“Don’t touch me!” Arthur shrieks, and Francis recoils as though Arthur had struck him. “Don’t you ever dare touch ( ... )
Reply
Arthur looks on in poorly disguised glee as Francis’ beloved maid is lead up to the stake. It was his arrow, after all, that unhorsed the girl at Compiègne and allowed her to be captured, shot from the very same longbow Arthur used to wound Francis at Agincourt. And what luck! To be able to buy her from the Burgundians for less than it took to build his manor house in Yorkshire!
“Maybe if God is really on your side,” he says, “she will die of suffocation from the smoke and be spared the agony of burning. That is, if she isn’t simply assumed into Heaven first, hmm?”
It took four guards to hold Francis back once he realized Jeanne was lost to him forever. It doesn’t take her long to die.
But Arthur never does anything by halves. “Burn her again.”
“What?!”“I want nothing left of her,” Arthur informs the executioner. “Burn her ( ... )
Reply
Has anyone seen this picture before?: (http://26.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lsri85vM1K1r1ixq1o1_500.jpg) OH MY GAWD, this chapter was so emotionally draining. *lifelessly flails around on the floor* By the way, there’s an explanation of the Norman invasion in the notes. But…I don’t want to be a tool and go on and on about something that probably a lot of England/Arthur fans already know about? But then again, maybe there’s some newbies here to the fandom and/or history in general. *flails again* And I'm sorry I had to break the chapter up. >.<
*(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Invasions_of_England) Poor baby!England ( ... )
Reply
*“Knowing that nature never did betray the heart who loved her” from Wordsworth’s Tintern Abbey (ironic considering his brother John, a sailor, died seven years later at sea)
*So Lord Byron seems to be most well-known today for his love poetry, but in my (rather humble) opinion those are actually his weakest poems. Dude was amazing at describing loneliness, especially the “Fuck tha police, I am me and I do what I want, even if that means I have to wander the earth alone for all eternity! Dude, what are you talking about, I’m not crying, it’s just raining all over my face…man, staying true to my own self is harder than I thought” kind. From Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage:-And Harold stands upon this place of skulls ( ... )
Reply
I love all the little tidbits and references that you leave here and there, like England liking both red and white roses, for instance - that's a reference to the future civil war, isn't it? And France saying Arthur will always have place at his house - reminded me of the hundred year's war even before you mentioned it.
Also, I nearly cried when Arthur said he wants to look for his brothers and live together with them again. One might say that the Union was his way of fulfilling that dream, albeit in a warped way.
And yes, this part was pretty dark and arthur was a bit of an arsehole but thankfully you do not make him a one-dimensional arsehole; reading your story one sees the bigger picture and how his past influences his present. And you write him amazingly; he's my favourite character and you do him justice, showing both his good and bad traits, his strength and his insecurities.
Reply
He's my favorite character too, for so many reasons, and I'm glad I'm doing his personality at least a little right, lol. I think, for a show built around stereotypes, he's a very well-developed character -- there's just so many layers to his personality! Both good and bad, as you pointed out. And I'm trying to hit on that in the story. He's had some pretty harsh stuff happen to him, but that doesn't justify some of the things he's done, and I think he recognizes that when he's older and has become a "gentlemen." And thus why he feels unloved and unlovable and excuse me while I gross sob for an hour...
Reply
But, of course, the part I love the most was Hastings and its afterwards. Poor, dear England. It was wonderful what you did when talking about the fire born from despair and the water that keeps people away: it´s nice to see England in all his ferocious glory.
I am so deeply in love with this!
Reply
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It's funny you mention the FrUK thing because I can't wait to get back to writing some America in the next chapter! XD My OP (haven't heard from them lately, I hope they're okay...but they're probably just really busy with life at the moment, and I can relate to that >.<) wanted USUK but this thing quickly became a character study about England. I hope OP and other anons aren't disappointed...BUT. USUK will make a triumphant return in the next chapter. B)
And, lawl, the chair...I can be so dense sometimes. I guess it was this picture I saw (http://www.whataboutclients.com/archives/ib56corch1.jpg) and, not realizing it was sitting on a platform/pillar/whatchamathingy, was like, "WHOA, is that thing attached to the wall? I mean, ( ... )
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