Hi guys~ I already know I'm a terrible person yeah yeah. I guess I got a little tired of writing and didn't want to update at all so that's my excuse. So hey, new fanfiction, but it's actually really different than all my others. This one isn't crack for the most part... Except for the crow...
This was actually an assignment I had to do for social studies about the French and Indian war and it was timed and I had gotten sick so i was really behind and so it gets really rushed at the end but hey...
I really don't expect this to get any likes or comments or anything because it's terrible and I will accept that fact. There are actually pictures to go with it but ... they're not on here and I'm 90% sure you don't want to see them.
Well either way I'm sure you're just dying to read this (haha yeah right) so I'll tell you now that I don't own Hetalia and please favorite or comment or something so yeah... Have fun trying to understand...
THIS IS A ONE SHOT!
"So, I heard that Washington is leading a surprise attack on the French in three days." Arthur sat down on the ground next to his friend, Alfred.
It was May 25, 1754 and British soldiers were laying down across Fort Necessity, getting ready to sleep for the night. For a night in May, it was actually quite warm, which was better than it being cold since the only cover was the wooden fence surrounding the soldiers. It didn't have a cover, so on cold nights it was torture.
"Yeah dude, didn't you know? We had this giant announcement about it earlier today." Alfred talked in a way that most people didn't, but he was still understandable.
Arthur had been busy securing the perimeter, so he missed the announcement. He had overheard other soldiers talking about it though.
"Well, I do now." Arthur looked around the fort, seeing all the soldier getting ready to sleep. "I'm not tired in the slightest, so maybe I'll take a walk in the forest."
"Just be careful out there. Don't want you dying or anything." Alfred waved Arthur off as he walked out of the fort.
"I'll be fine. Don't worry." Arthur waved back without turning around, knowing that Alfred was waving as well. After he was out of hearing distance, and pretty much at the forest already, he started mumbling to himself. "Alfred worries over nothing. Plus even if I do get, let's say, captured, I know nothing about the attack. I'll be fine." Arthur started doing hand motions to show his sarcasm while talking to himself.
. . . . .
About half an hour later, Arthur found an open spot in the trees. There was an old log there that would be perfect to sit on. And there was even a lake a couple feet away, which seemed almost perfect to him. And it wasn't actually that far away from Fort Necessity either. Arthur had just walked around in random directions, making the journey longer than it was. He wasn't worried about getting lost though, seeing as he knew exactly where he was. It was a talent or something.
"Maybe I'll just sit here for a while. It looks like the perfect place for me to think at." Arthur smiled a little and sat down on the log.
He had only sat down for about a minute when a rustle in the bushes snapped Arthur out of his daze. It was close too. Someone was there. "Who's there?!" Arthur watched the forest in the direction of the noise, waiting for some movement.
"I didn't expect to find anyone else on my walk, especially at this time of night." So there was another person there, but there was something… off about his accent.
"Show yourself." Arthur was prepared to defend himself and kept his voice bold.
"Fine. Fine. As you wish." The man walked out from behind the bushes separating them.
He had golden blonde hair, with a sort of wave in it. His outfit was a mixture of dark blue with light blue, maybe a little black. It was hard to tell in the dim light of the moon. The man was just a little taller than Arthur himself, so he could see that the man's eyes were a deep, light blue. But wait a second… Arthur finally realized what was different about him.
"You're a French!"
"You're a British!"
Both of them pointed at each other in realization. Arthur never expected to run into a French soldier out here, even though he knew it was a possibility. Neither of them had their guns out, though they both had them on them. If one of them started to get their gun out, the other would as well. And with the gunshots being so loud and at this time of day, Arthur didn't really need a French army trying, or succeeding, to kill him.
Good thing Arthur was good at close combat. The French soldier made the first move, trying to punch him in the guts. Arthur blocked and tried to kick him back.
. . . . .
Fifteen minutes. That's how long it took for the both of them to run out of breath enough to stop fighting. Neither of them were really hurt, but their clothes were covered in dirt.
"You're lucky my gun is weighing me down." The French soldier was thinking of excuses why he lost.
"Next time you won't be so lucky, but for now, I'm done." Arthur was too tired to fight as well, so excuses came from him too.
After a few more excuses why they can't fight anymore from the both of them, they turned to go home. Arthur made sure that the French soldier wasn't following him.
"You know what he looked like, a frog." Arthur laughed to himself as he approached the fort.
He went through the guards who made sure that he was a British soldier, then finally found Alfred in the dark. He was already asleep and snoring, but Arthur was used to it. He was able to fall asleep in the next couple minutes, right after mumbling stuff to himself. "I'll just keep what happened today a secret."
. . . . . . . . . .
The British snuck out to the French fort three nights later, on the 28th of May. While some of Arthur's comrades had been severely injured or had even died, Arthur and Alfred had gotten out of there without a scratch. They had been on the sidelines and didn't get hurt at all. Of course Arthur felt bad for the deaths of his fellow soldiers, but he didn't know them at all, so it wasn't too bad.
Even with the advantage of surprise, the British lost that fight. Badly. Not only did they lose, but Fort Necessity was burnt down to the ground. Which didn't actually take too long seeing as it was very small and made of wood. The British had to build a new fort a few miles away, and luckily that didn't take but a couple days.
. . . . .
The night after the fort was built, Arthur decided to take another walk. He had really liked that one place in the forest where there was the lake and the trees had thinned out and there was a log that he could sit on and think peacefully and not have to deal with the French or anything.
"Alfred, I'm taking another walk. I'll be back in a couple hours." Arthur waved bye to Alfred without waiting for an answer, knowing that Alfred's voice was loud enough to be heard from a couple of miles away. Arthur was probably exaggerating, but then again, he probably wasn't…
"Okay dude! Don't die or anything!" And there it was. The loudest voice on Earth.
Arthur walked the couple miles to the forest just to see that one place again. "Finally. Peace and quiet. I haven't had that in days."
The crickets were chirping and that was the only noise other than the wind rustling the leaves. It was a nice change from the gunshots and then all the noise building the new fort. Arthur didn't even know the name, so he was just going to call it Fort Necessity, like the other one.
Only a few minutes of walking away from his destination, Arthur tripped on a root from one of the trees. He let out a small scream as he fell, but the impact didn't really hurt.
"Ouch, my leg!" Arthur couldn't stand very well. He must have sprained his ankle when it got caught on the root. There was no way to get back to the fort without help.
After a few minutes of sitting on the ground, thinking of what he could do, Arthur sighed. "Great. Now what do I do? Stay here and die, or maybe try and crawl back to the fort? I can't move right now though, it hurts too much."
Arthur quickly turned his head when he heard a noise getting closer to him. It sounded like… footsteps. Who would be out here at this time of night? It must have been midnight already.
"Who's there." Arthur was having deja vu. Didn't he say that to that French soldier about a week ago?
"I didn't expect to find anyone else on my walk, especially at this time of night." That line. That voice. That accent.
"You're that French frog from before!" Arthur wasn't able to fight or run this time. He would be in serious trouble if the French soldier were to pull out his gun or something.
"Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you. I was just wondering why you were sitting on the ground here? You seemed pretty content back at that other place, and it's not too far from here." The French soldier held his hands up to show that he had no weapon.
Arthur didn't really have any choice but to tell him. "I… sprained my ankle."
The French soldier looked surprised. "Oh, well that would explain a lot." He surprised Arthur by smiling. "Do you need help?"
"I'd normally never accept help from a frog like you, but I guess I have no choice." Arthur really wasn't fond of the idea of the enemy helping him.
"What's your name?" The French soldier was the first to ask.
"Arthur. Arthur Kirkland. What's yours?"
"Well, you see to have already given me the nickname of frog, but it's Francis. Francis Bonnefoy." So that was his name.
A few minutes later, Francis had helped Arthur sit down on the log at the lake. The whole time Francis was carrying Arthur, or more like supporting him, nobody really said a word. But at the lake, it was easier to talk.
"Well, thanks for helping me I guess, Frog." Arthur was avoiding eye contact for reasons unknown to himself.
"It was no big deal. I can't turn away from somebody who needs help. Call it a habit, Angleterre." It seemed as Francis thought of a nickname for Arthur as well.
"You know, instead of fighting every time both of us take walks at the time, maybe we could meet here most nights and just talk. Not about the war or battle strategies or whatever our next attack is going to be, but maybe like as friends." Arthur was never very good at making friends, so this was hard to ask. And he's the enemy too. Francis delayed his answer for a couple seconds, which gave Arthur enough time to tense up and think that something was wrong.
"I'd like that."
. . . . . . . . . .
A year later, Nova Scotia was taken over by the French army. Arthur and Francis had been meeting almost every night for the past year, and were now best friends. That night, Francis had helped Arthur find a big stick to help support his weight on so Arthur could go home without Francis.
Even with Nova Scotia taken over, the British were still at Fort Necessity. Arthur wasn't even sure what was happening. They built a bunch of forts and stuff, but Arthur didn't even remember if they moved or not.
The night after Nova Scotia was taken over, Arthur was going out to take his nightly walk. When he was waving off Alfred again, this time Alfred decided to ask a couple questions. "Hey dude? Why do take a walk every night? Are you going somewhere special or something?"
Arthur quickly thought of a lie. He had known this was coming. "Yes, actually. I found this spot in the forest I've grown attached to. It's not too far away, and taking a walk helps me clear my mind of everything else going on." He hoped that was good enough.
Arthur was careful not to be followed, especially with Alfred's questions. "Sorry I'm late. Alfred decided to ask questions about my walks." In the past year, Arthur had told Francis who Alfred was.
"It's fine, Angleterre. I was just watching the stars shining on the beautiful lake."
"DUDE, WATCH OUT! IT'S A FRENCH!" Alfred literally jumped out of a nearby bush and tackled Francis.
"Alfred?! What are you doing here?! Get off of the frog!" Arthur tried to help Francis, but Alfred is much stronger than Arthur will ever be.
"Dude! He's a French! He'll kill you!" At least Alfred was protective of his friends…
Finally Arthur separated Alfred from Francis. "I see that your friend is very protective." Francis wasn't mad at anything, even though he did just get tackled. He stood up and dusted off his clothes.
"Alfred, I want you to meet my good friend Francis. Frog, this is Alfred." Well, that introduction could have gone better.
Alfred didn't say anything for a couple seconds, which was probably the longest he's ever stayed quiet. "This must be the reason why you take those walks every night. By the way, I'm not protective. I'm a hero!"
"Yeah." Arthur nodded.
"It's nice to finally meet you, Alfred. I'm Francis Bonnefoy." Francis would have shaken his hand, but Alfred probably didn't trust him still. "You know what, you look a lot like one of my closest friends. His name is Matthew Williams."
"I'm Alfred F. Jones, the hero! So, who is this Mattress Wilson dude?" Alfred couldn't remember his name, even though it was just said.
"Matthew Williams. Listen sometimes and you'll know." Arthur sighed in defeat.
"I'll see if he wants to come with me tomorrow. He's a very kind boy, and he looks about your age.
. . . . .
The next night, Alfred came with Arthur back to the lake, while Matthew came with Francis.
"Dude, you totally look like me!" Alfred was laughing happily as he saw Matthew for the first time.
"Oh, you really think so, eh? I guess we do a little." Matthew's voice was very quiet and pretty much opposite to Alfred's. Matthew was happy to meet Alfred as well.
"Yeah, totally! Iggy-brows said your name was Mattress, right?" Alfred liked that nickname for Arthur. He said that Arthur's eyebrows were different from most people's, and made full use of that fact.
"I'm Matthew..." Matthew's quiet voice said while sighing, but he wasn't really sure if Alfred heard or not.
"Don't call me Iggy-brows!" Arthur didn't really like his nickname too much.
. . . . . . . . . .
Three years later, and the British won the war. It was finally over. It was hard to believe that it's been four years already. Four years ago Arthur and Francis were enemies, and now they were best friends.
That's not the only thing that's changed in four years either. Even though it was frowned upon by most of society, Matthew and Alfred weren't just friends. They started dating. They became a gay couple and Arthur and Francis didn't mind at all. Especially after seeing how happy both of them are together.
Tonight Francis and Arthur were having a picnic. It was a celebration for the war finally being over. They both knew that this might be the last time they see each other, plus celebrating the end of the war. Arthur had agreed to bring scones, and Francis was going to bring biscuits or cookies or whatever French food he makes.
That night, Francis and Arthur had laid a blanket out over the soft, green grass by the lake. The food was placed on top of the blanket and it was a beautiful night, with a small breeze for no bugs.
"So, Angleterre, what are we going to do when I have to go back to France?" Francis took a bite of his biscuit.
"I've been meaning to ask you this for a while now, Frog. A long time actually but you get it. What does Angleterre mean? I know it's French, but what does it mean?" That question had been stuck with Arthur since the first time Francis called him it.
"You haven't figured it out yet?" Francis started to grab a scone. "It means England. I like the way it sounds, plus it suits you."
"I don't mind you calling me it, I was just wondering." Arthur smiled.
"Angleterre, is this edible? It looks… burnt? This was supposed to be a scone, right?" Francis was examining the scone carefully. It was black and the texture was hard to describe. Exactly opposite of what a scone should be.
"It's a scone! I know, I'm a terrible cook. You're not the only one whose told me that..." Arthur was a little upset about that fact.
Just then, a crow appeared in the sky out of nowhere and crowed before stealing the scone from Francis' hand. It crowed again while Arthur and Francis watched it fly away. It didn't get very far though. Then, to surprise the both of them even more, it fell on the ground, not far from where they were having their picnic at.
"What just happened?" Arthur found the crow twitching on the ground.
Francis examined the crow closer to see that there was a single bite out of the scone. "Angleterre, I think your scone might have just killed this crow."
"I knew I was a bad cook but you're joking, right Frog?" Arthur's voice had hints of worry and well… more worry.
"Angleterre, I'm never letting you cook again." Francis' voice was serious, which he barely did.
. . . . . . . . . .
Three more years later, making it seven in all, the Treaty of Paris was signed. It made the French give up all their land to the British. All the French soldiers had to go home back to France. Or most at least.
But Francis and Arthur knew this was coming. Matthew and Alfred had prepared a while back by moving into a house together in America and everyone completely forgot about them.
Arthur was one of the more important soldiers, and had to stay. This was why Arthur and Francis planned ahead. The day the French soldiers had to go home, Francis had snuck on a British soldier outfit and fit it perfectly. Nobody noticed he was there and Francis and Arthur were able to find a nice sized house close to Alfred's and Matthew's. Just because they weren't dating like they were, didn't mean they couldn't live together. Even if they couldn't, nobody told them different. Who knows why.
But no matter what, this is how Arthur Kirkland, a British soldier, befriended the enemy, Francis Bonnefoy, a French soldier.