/ A/N: A (very) short drabble about Francis and Arthur as children. I wrote this a while ago but I'm publishing it now due to a request for more FrUK! Hope you enjoy! /
It was on a bright sparkling day when Francis made his first trip to England. He had been instructed to, and he was excited - he had never travelled by sea for such a long time before.
The second he was there the Frenchman found himself in deep forest. Brittle twigs and tall branches surrounded him and enticed him enough to make him continue walking. Soon enough he came upon a clearing. It was bright enough for him to see a small figure skipping about amongst the grass as if they were chasing something.
Francis stepped closer - it appeared to be a small boy, with shaggy blond hair and piercing green eyes. He was adorably short, too.
The boy snapped his head around and noticed Francis stood there. She was quite pretty, he had to admit, but it was a little strange to find such a lady out on her own. She couldn't have been looking for him, could she?
Francis smiled. The boy hadn't scampered off yet, which he read as a good enough reason to approach him. "Bonjour!" he greeted brightly, moving slowly so not to scare the child off. "I'm-" The Frenchman took another step - and tripped over a dug up tree root. He landed flat on his face, and the boy giggled cutely.
"Stupid!" he grinned. "Stuuuupid~!"
Francis stood back up and growled slightly. "I'm not stupid!" he argued. "My name's Francis, by the way."
"Stuuuuuupid!"
"No no, I'm-"
"Stupid!"
The Frenchman sighed. How fortunate was he to come across such a rude child.
A few days passed, and Francis had gotten used to Arthur now. As luck would have it, he was a nation too, the personification of England. However, it appeared that he didn't have the capacity to speak very well - one of the few words he used regularly was "stupid", normally directed at the Frenchman.
Arthur had an interesting pout on his face. He wasn't upset or angry or visibly confused... In fact, he looked as though he was expecting something from himself.
"Are you okay, Arthur?" Francis asked, crouching down to his height.
The younger nation just looked back at the Frenchman with wide eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but appeared to be struggling with his words. "F-Fa... F-F..." the Brit spluttered, going red with effort.
"Take your time," Francis smiled supportively. "You can do it!"
"Fuh, Fra... Frah... Fra-Fran..." Arthur tried vigorously to finish his word, until eventually: "Fra... Fwancis!"
Francis' jaw dropped. All this time, he had been trying to say his name? "Say it again, Arthur!"
"Fwancis!"
Arthur looked delighted. He had the widest smile Francis had ever seen, and his eyes seemed to shimmer with pride. The older nation held his arms out and picked Arthur up to hug him. The Frenchman held him tenderly for a few moments before asking: "What is my name again, Arthur?"
"...Stupid!"
A lot of progress was still to be made.