Title: I Am That Hero! Disclaimer: Hetalia - Axis Powers (C) Hidekaz Himuraya Summary: Francis tells his grandchildren about the American Revolution. :3 Note: I know, I'm horrid. FrUK family makes me happy. Shutup.
Note V2: No, I do not live in Montana. I named Montana after her capital. Helena. I picked the first state I saw with a capital that could pass as a name of some kind. Nova Soctia is amazing. Shutthefuckup. (I'm actually from Canada, in origin. So I have all the right to love Nova Soctia. X3 Also, I'm living in Texas. So...I'm allowed to make fun of Austin. x3)
Note V3: Francis does have 61 grandchildren. If you think about it. 51 states in America, and there are 10 Provinces in Canada. (There are 3 Territories, but I didn't count them.)
Note V4: Don't even ask about the title. /dies. If you get it, ohgod. I'll love you forever.
Note V5: Italic stuff is Francis' story. Regular stuff is my story.
ENJOY~
All across the Virginian land, blood was staining the grass. The rain couldn't wash it all away. The stains would be there for eternity. Not a single man, nor their families would forget this night.
Francis sat in his plush rocking chair, smiling down at his grandchildren. Two of them, anyhow. (He really had around sixty-one. Ten from Matthew, and Fifty-one from Alfred.)
Nova (Nova Scotia) and Helena (Montana) were Francis' favorite grandchildren. They were calm, quiet, and they loved hearing his stories. When Austin (Texas) was spending the night, he would always try to top Francis' stories. When Sacramento (California) spent the night, she always would tell stories of her famous friends, leaving Francis no time to speak at all.
So, in the end, Francis loved having Helena and Nova at his home. His stories had kept them childish. They weren't like the others. Mature and rude. Helena and Nova still believed in faeries and unicorns, captain hook and double rainbows. This made them so much easier to entertain.
"Grandpa France! Will you tell us a story about Grandpa England?" Nova threw himself into Francis' lap.
"Please, Grandpa France! Maybe another one about Grandpa England beating all of those evil pirates?" Helena sat at her grandfather's feet.
"Or one where he saves the Queen from invading soldiers!" Nova punched at the air playfully.
"Oui. Sit." Francis stood and grabbed a large photo album from his bookshelf. "Hmm..."
"Do you think Grandpa England could beat the American armies we read about in history?" Nova looked to his cousin.
"I bet you he could! All on his own! Remember that story about he and the pirates? He beat the entire crew with one sword!" Helena smiled at Nova. Francis' stories were the only things that got them that excited.
"Mon petit lapin, have you heard about the American Revolution before?"
"Kinda...We just started learning about it, actually." Helena smiled.
"Yeah! The settlers of Jamestown! The Pilgrims and stuff, all coming from England!" Nova waved his hands.
"Oh! Was Grandpa England part of the American Revoultion?" Helena was bouncing excitedly.
"Tu as raison." Francis smiled. "Your Grandpa England was part of the great American Revolution!" Francis turned the photo album so the children could see it. The image was that of Arthur in the insane British Revolutionary uniform, staring at the world on the opposite side of a window. Obviously, there was no color, but the children knew of the Blue and Red coats.
"Is that Grandpa England?" Nova stared, his eyes wide.
"Oui. Dashing, ne pas?" Francis smiled.
"What's he looking at?" Helena frowned. "He looks sad."
"He was in a war, Helena. I wouldn't expect you to be smiling." Francis laughed lightly. "C'est la pluie."
"Tell us the story, Grandpa France!" Nova tugged at his grandfather's pants leg.
"Alright. Alright." Francis smiled. "It was October 19th, 1781...
Arthur was kneeling in the middle of the feild, his bayonette sitting next to him, unguarded, his uniform soiled with blood, dirt, and gunpowder.
"Where's the rest of your army, Kirkland?" Alfred asked sadly.
"Hell if I know, Jones!" Arthur glared down, even though he was on his knees in the mud. Holding his hands to a wound on his fellow man. "What even gives you the right to speak to me that way? I raised you!"
"Well, isn't that the reason we're here?" Alfred lifted his bayonette to his shoulder and aimed it at the Briton. "I'm not your child anymore. You must have known that one day I'd leave the nest!" He growled. Arthur didn't even look at Alfred. "Look at me! God sakes! You're so stubborn!"
"You've no right to speak to me that way. When you fix it, I'll look at you." Arthur ground out as he busied himself with the already dead soldier. He just didn't want to accept the man was dead. That was his luckiest front line shooter. It took record time for him to reload his bayonette.
"My god!" Alfred walked over and kicked Arthur's bayonette from his side. All Arthur could do was stare at his weapon, blood and dirt coating every inch of it. "Soon, my French allies are going to come pouring out of that port! You're going to lose! You can't win! All of your men are dead!" Arthur was inching over to his bayonette, and he finally had hold of it. He rose from the mud, not even bothering to try and get the muck from his uniform.
"Just as soon, my reinforcements are going to come out of the exact same port! You'll be the one losing, and you'll be part of England again! You know you won't be able to get along without me!" Arthur found himself nearing tears.
"Grandpa France! Is Grandpa England going to win?" Helena looked up at her grandfather nervously.
"Obviously he's going to win, Helena! Have you listened to any of Grandpa France's stories? Grandpa England never loses!" Nova laughed at his cousin.
"Grandpa France, who's Alfred?" Helena chewed on her lip.
"Alfred? Why he's your Père Amérique, Helena!" Francis smiled.
"Really? That's so cool!" Helena beamed.
"Helena! Let Grandpa France finish the story!" Nova pushed her slightly.
"Sorry." She blushed and Francis patted her on the head.
"L'amende, cher. Now, both armies had reinforcements coming in, but Arthur was on his own, unlike Alfred..."
"What's the point, Arthur? Just give up! You know the French are the most skilled in combat!" Alfred was panting from yelling. His voice was hoarse, and every muscle in his body ached. Not that he would let Arthur know that. He was making a point. All he wanted to do was to prove to Arthur that he was strong enough to let live on his own. To own his own country, to rule his own people. He never expected Arthur to react to irrationally. Rain started to fall again. And oh, when it rained in Virgina, it poured. "Are you going to retreat? It's raining! Where are your gentlemanly tactics now, huh?" Alfred regretted that. He didn't want to be the rude one.
"Gentleman don't go to war." Arthur ground out. His face was covered in blood, dirt, and rain, along with a terrifying scowl.
"Whatever! Get your gun up!" Alfred screamed. "Fight like a man, Krikland!" Arthur did as Alfred said, amazingly. Though, out of the blue, Arthur charged at Alfred, knocking his bayonette out of his hands. Alfred cried out in amazement.
"Why? Why did you have to act like that?" Arthur had the sharp end of his bayonette pointed to Alfred's throat. "Everything was going perfectly! God, we could have ruled the majority of the world! You could have been the next monarch! The next Prince! The next King!" Arthur dropped his bayonette, and fell to his knees. He couldn't kill his son. Alfred stared down at his father, amazed at his actions.
"You..." He thought over his words "You used to be so big." Alfred scoffed and stared off into space. Then, a small smacking noise. Getting louder and louder. A figure running in the distance, runing the somewhat-silence.
"Monsieur! Monsieur! We've come! Are we too late?" It was a Frenchman. And more were following him, all dressed in proper militia garb. Arthur stood up, grabbed his bayonette, and, with fire in his eyes, ran over to-
"Shh!" Helena stared at the door. "Grandpa England's home!" Francis frowned. Ususally, Arthur was able to startle Helena by entering the house without a sound. Today, he was wiggling the door nob, jingling the keys, mumbling so loudly that they could hear him on the other side. Then it hit Francis.
Arthur was drunk.
It made sense. It was pretty late at night, anyhow. Much past Nova and Helena's bed time.
"Son lit temps! Go on upstairs. Come now, Dépêche-toi! I'll bring England up, only if you're both in bed!" The two raced one another up the stairs, to see who got to use the bathroom first. "Angleterre..." Francis sighed and opened the door for his lover.
"Oh, hi." Arthur swayed at the door. "I couldn't find my key..." His words were slurred horribly.
"How did you get home, mon cherie?" Arthur hiccuped.
"Taxi." Francis pulled him into the house, and laid him on the couch.
"Rester. Don't move." Francis walked away, and returned with a glass of water. "Cette boisson." He pressed the glass to Arthur's chapped lips. "Mon bébé, why did you go and get drunk?" Francis held the Briton's hand, and smoothed sweaty blonde hair from Arthur's forehead.
"It...It's..." Arthur had tears in his eyes. "It's July 4th." Arthur then flat out bawled into Francis' shirt.
"Oh, mon cherie, shh." Francis rubbed Arthur's back soothingly, and waited for the man to calm down. "Now, come on. You need to sleep." He lead Arthur to their room, and helped the man lay in bed. He kissed Arthur's forehead and left to make sure Helena and Nova were asleep. Surley enough, they were splayed out on the large water bed Francis got for visitors. He crept back into he and Arthur's room and crawled into the bed next to Arthur. He wrapped his arms around the Briton, and hoped for the best.
((How would you like another morning, eh? :D))
Francis washed syrup coated plates and orage pulp filled glasses as Helena and Nova were carried off by their respective fathers.
"Papa! Papa! You wouldn't believe the story Grandpa France told us about you and Grandpa England!" Helena yelled happily.
"Oh? You have to tell me all about it when we get in the car, okay?" Alfred laughed loudly.
"Goodbye, père!" Matthew waved to his father, as did Nova.
"Bye, bye, Grandpa France!" Nova and Helena yelled happily, and Francis waved back. After a minute or two, he closed the door, and walked up to where Arthur was nursing a hangover away with Advil and tea.
"Mon bébé, Angleterre, are you alright?" Francis kissed Arthur on the forhead.
"Mh." Arthur leaned into Francis and grumbled. "That fucking git."
Allow me to translate.
Mon petit lapin - My little rabbit(s)
Tu as raison - You are right
Dashing, ne pas? - Dashing, no?
C'est la pluie - It was the rain
Père Amérique - Father America L'amende, cher - It's fine, dear Monsieur! - Sir! Son lit temps! - It's bed time!
Dépêche-toi! - Hurry up!
Angleterre - England
Mon cherie - My darling
Rester - Stay there
Cette boisson - Drink this
Mon bébé - My baby Could I use more French? Pftt- I nearly did. How pathetic is that? :PP I'mma cut you...swish swish. X3 OTL. This is hideous. I might get rid of the second part. :P Idk. It depends on how things go. Be sure to tell me how hideous this was! :D You know I love it. CHINA! I CHOOSE YOU! CHINA USED "MAKE PEOPLE REVIEW." It missed. D: