Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia... GASP.

Rated T : To be sure.

Note: This story will most likely be divided in two separate fics: Part one being Matthew's childhood with France (with lovely fatherly love !) and the second part being Matthew as a young adult and his relationship with Alfred as lovers.
The story takes place in France in the 17th century : Louis XIV, Molière, etc...
I apologize if this fic is not historically accurate !

Hope you'll enjoy !

''Speech''
Thoughts

Big thanks to Smarklez for the wonderful cover!

DIS PAPA

The drawing room in the eastern part of the Manor was Francis' favourite room in the morning to sit. Nothing like the bright early rays of the parisian sun to bring out the golden strands of a nobleman's hair. Said nobleman smiled in content as he took a sip of his freshly poured coffee, remembering his escapades of the previous night. What shall I do tonight ? Where shall I go ? Such were his thoughts. Young, handsome, rich, single, what else such a man should be thinking about than his own pleasure and his own person ? His frivolous musings were soon interrupted by a careful knock on the door. ''Come in.'' The French replied, slightly irritated. Another young man in a servant garnishments entered, a wide smile on his features. From what Francis could remember, that smile had always been there. The man was quite tall and had the blackest hair ever to be seen and the thinnest eyes. The servant, a Korean, walked up to his master in calculated steps, a silver tray on his right hand. On the tray lay a single letter. The Korean brought the tray down to his master's shoulder level for him to take the latter.

''A letter from Duchesse de Vignet, sir.'' The Korean informed. Francis rolled his eyes and sight, exasperated, and took the letter. He quickly opened it and scanned the letter with bored eyes. He gave another sigh and tossed the letter back onto the tray.

''Wright a letter to that old witch and tell her I am unwell and won't be attending the ball. That is all.'' He said, taking another sip of his coffee, his eyes to the window.

''If I may, sir...'' The servant started hesitantly. ''You have not attended any kind of party for years now.'' He observed.

''We both know that I was forced to go by my mother and father, God bless their souls.'' He laughed. ''Going to another boring party to listen to those eccentrics' boring little petty lives ? Indeed I shall not go. You are dismissed, Yong Soo.'' The Korean bowed and left the room.

Now, where was I ? Ah, yes, tonight... There's this new brothel in town... I should disguise myself and have some fun. He laughed to himself. Indeed, life was good when one was a free, handsome and rich young man... but the French had not even finished planning his evening that another knock on the door was heard. He frowned, now plainly unnerved. ''Come in!'' Im Yong Soo entered the room again and bowed.

''There's a Lady at the door, she begs for an audience with you.'' The servant informed, still smiling.

''A Lady, you say ? Who ?''

''I do not know, sir. She is not a noble and I have never seen her before.'' He informed. Francis tared, perplex.

''Is she beautiful ?'' Francis asked cockily.

''Well...''

''She clearly isn't. Why have you not send her off, Yong Soo ?'' Francis asked, slightly irritated. This made no sense.

''She is quite insistent and would not leave until she sees you, sir.''

''Then send my men or give her money!'' He ordered, frowning deeply. ''I will not have beggars in my house, you should know that, Yong Soo!''

''Indeed I do, sir.'' He bowed, though the silent apology did not seem sincere in the least. ''But may I suggest you see her, sir? She has brought... something interesting with her.'' Francis stared at the Asian, sceptical. What was the mischievous light in those thin black eyes ? He hesitated a long while before finally answering.

''Fine, let her in.'' He sighed. Yong Soo bowed and left again.

Not two minutes had passed when three new knocks on the doors were heard. ''Come in...'' He sighed, already finding his morning to be wasted. Yong Soo opened the door and entered, followed by a middle-aged woman. The woman was nothing special, but by her side walked a sad, almost sickly-looking boy, his little pale hand linked to the woman's. His gaze was downcast and filled with fear and sadness. Francis stared, flabbergasted. He felt his heart stop. It was impossible, simply impossible. That nose, that mouth, those hair! They were his! Francis quickly looked away. Silly me, letting myself fooled by my imagination. He told though, almost laughing at himself.

''Monsieur le Marquis.'' Francis lifted his gaze toward the woman as she spoke up. ''I will go straight to the point: this boy here is called Mathieu. He's your son.'' Francis' eyes considerably widened. A little gasp escaped from the little boy. Francis dared to look at him again. The boy seemed to be looking at him as well, but their eyes never truly meeting. His eyes were evasive. Francis gridded his teeth and tightened his fist. He gave the table beside him a powerful hit and rose from his seat. Utterly insulted.

''Nonsense! Leave this house at once !'' He yelled. The child hid himself behind the woman's dress, intimidated by the Frenchman's outburst.

''I will not, sir.'' The woman calmly said. ''The resemblance is too great. You cannot deny it.''

''Ah! I laugh at you foolishness, woman. You are far too old and ugly. Do not dare think I would have ever slept with you. Now, for the last time, leave.''

''Indeed I am not the child's mother, but I knew her. Now that she is dead, she can no longer take care of him. I brought this letter from her. She wrote it on her bed as she was dying.'' She took a letter out of the pocket of her coat. Francis simply could not believe what was happening. He looked at the letter, incredulous. He looked away from the letter, a troubled expression on his face. He glanced at the letter. He sighed and made a lazy gesture of his hand. Yong Soo nodded, took the letter and gave it to his master. Francis opened the letter, first frowning at the messy handwriting. As he read on, the man felt a strong headache winning over him.

Francis Bonnefoy,

Back then, your wig and clothes would not fool me. You had introduced yourself under the common name of ''Phillip'', but that is not your name. I know the faces of the nobles; you are not the only one who has come to see me. Indeed I know your face and it is a face that I kept seeing in Mathieu's features the more he grew up. I should thank you for the gift you have given me. Mathieu has been my only joy for the past seven years. Now, I am dying and have no family to take care of him for me and I refuse to send him to an orphanage. Whether you want it or not, he is and will always be your son. I beg you to take care of him and love him.

I beg you.

Jeanne Bellecourt

''What a tasteless joke !'' He yelled, ripping the letter in two and letting it fall to the ground. The child was choking back his tears. ''I shall hear no more.'' He said, calmer, trying to regain his composure. The woman frowned. These noblemen were so stubborn ! She took the little boy's arm and brought him in front of her.

''Look carefully...'' She raised the boy's chin with her free hand. ''Sir... The resemblance and your reputation are such that people would have no trouble believing me if I informed them of the illegitimacy of Mathieu's birth.''

Francis stared. He was about to yell some other profanities, but decided against it. The woman's words were starting to eat him from the inside. He knew she was right. His title was in danger... but to take care of a child ? Supposedly his own ? This could not be. A smiled crept his features as he finally understood.

''Ah... yes, yes... of course. How much?'' He asked casually.

''I beg your pardon ?'' The woman stared.

''Money. How much do you want ?'' Was this not an evidence ?

''Nothing, sir. I simply want you to take this child.'' Hearing the words, Francis didn't know whether to scream or cry. He sat himself on his fancy chair, no longer able to stand. He brought his hand to his forehead, closed his eyes and sighed.

''Can you not take care of him yourself ?'' He asked, pleading, desperate...

''Indeed I cannot.''

''I will pay for everything !'' Francis insisted.

''It will not do. The poor boy just lost his mother. He needs his father more than he ever will. I am also giving you the opportunity to be a true father... an opportunity to do something charitable... something to live for...'' The woman trailed off. Francis looked at her, all traces of hope gone. This woman would hear nothing. He stayed silent for a long while.

''Fine. I will keep him. Now leave... please, for God's sake, just leave...'' Francis begged. The woman smiled.

''With pleasure.'' The woman knelt in front of the young boy and put her hands on each of his shoulders. ''Good bye, Mathieu. Be good.'' She said simply, smiling softly. Mathieu only nodded. He had not known the lady very much, she had been taking care of him for the past six months, after her mother's death, but he felt he'd rather stay with her than with his... father. He kept those feelings inside however, and tried to fight back his tears as best he could. The woman gave him a kiss on his forehead then, she left.

Time, then, seemed to stop. No one said a word. Mathieu's sad eyes were glued to the ground and he dared not to move. Francis was eyeing him with both contempt and unease. He could barely stand to look at him. The resemblance disturbed him too much. It only made everything more believable. And Francis refused it to be believable. Yong Soo's satisfied smile still had not faded, if anything, it had widened. But it did not last for long.

''Yong Soo.''

''Yes, sir ?''

''Take the child to the furthest orphanage you know.'' Francis said calmly, sipping his coffee. He frowned. It was cold. Yong Soo's smile instantly disappeared. Mathieu's eyes widened. He let his tears fall freely. The sight broke Yong Soo's heart.

''But sir...'' He objected.

''It is an order.'' This made the young child panic. He ran to the Frenchman's side and knelt in front of him, grabbing his right leg and crying loudly to him.

''Please father, not the orphanage ! I beg you !''

Francis was dumfounded. He felt his heart ache at the broken, pleading voice of the little boy. Angry at himself, Francis regained his spirit and pushed the child aside with his foot.

''Do not call me that !'' He yelled, exceedingly upset from hearing the word. He rose from his seat, leaving the astonished child crying on the ground behind. He walked slowly to the window as Yong Soo rushed to the child's side. The Asian whispered sweet words, but the child would not be consoled. Angry, Yong Soo spoke up.

''Sir ! This is quite enough ! Are you really willing to send your very own son to such a place ?''

Francis instantly turned around, ready to yell at his servant and punish him for daring to speak to him this way. However, he was silenced by the sight of the crying child. He felt his heart ache again. Seeing those tears falling from those beautiful blue eyes and trailing along the soft-looking cheeks of the angelic face was simple heart breaking. Indeed, was he willing to send this beautiful child to such a horrid place ? He sighed heavily again and felt his headache worsen.

''I...'' He started hesitantly. ''Fine. I will keep him.'' Yong Soo sighed in relief. Mathieu, although tears were still falling, smiled in absolute gratitude. Francis could barely breath. That smile was so deep and honest, it looked as if he had revived his mother ! He quickly looked away, his heart beating faster. ''H-However...'' He pursued, now looking straight at Yong Soo. ''... I want you to take care of him and make sure that he is never seen by any visitor or that he does not leave this manor. Is that clear ?'' Yong Soo was sincerely disappointed by this, but figured it was a start. Not wanting to make his master change his mind, the Asian did not protest and nodded silently. Francis dared a last glance at the still tears-filled eyes of the child. He was disturbed to see that the sight was still as poignant to him and without further ado, the noble left the room.

Yong Soo looked down at the young boy in his arms. Smiling softly, he wiped the remaining tears with his thumb. Mathieu, embarrassed but grateful, looked down with a shy smile on his features.

''I bet you're hungry !'' The Asian exclaimed, smiling when the boy nodded shyly. ''Then let's go to the kitchen, da ze !'' He continued animatedly, glad he no longer needed to be careful of his speech, the master not being around.

''Da ze ?'' The boy laughed softly. ''It sounds weird. What does it mean ?''

''Ah... nothing much. Don't worry about it.'' Yong Soo, his eyes suddenly nostalgic compared to his smile. He linked his hand with the little boy's and helped him up. ''Come.'' They walked on, Yong Soo closing the door behind them. They arrived in front of the stairs and the Asian was surprised to see what happened next. The boy joined his free hand to their linked ones and felt the child tighten his grip considerably. At first, the Korean didn't pay much attention to it and walked down the stairs at his usual space, but it seemed like it was too fast for the boy as the blond almost instantly lost foot. The Asian, quick on reflexes, nimbly caught him and helped him back on his feet. ''Are you alright, Mathieu ?'' He asked. The boy nodded shyly, muttering a quick ''I'm sorry.'' The Asian ruffled his hair affectionately. He decided to adapt his pace to Mathieu's. However, he hadn't expect it to be so... slow. Each step was so careful, Yong Soo could barely believe it. ''Could it be that you're afraid of stairs ?'' He asked playfully, joking more than anything.

''I used to fall off the stairs quite often... It hurts a lot.'' Mathieu explained simply, eyes not leaving his feet. Yong Soo did not answer, a little taken aback and truly not knowing what to say. Thus, after nearly a whole minute, they finally reached the first floor. They had not made three steps forward that that Asian stopped. Mathieu looked up to him, mildly confused, though his eyes, Yong Soo noted, did not seem to be looking directly at him.

''I forgot something upstairs. Just wait for me here, I'll be right back !'' Yong Soo explained cheerfully. And off he went and, true to his words, quickly came back. Mathieu noted that the tall man did not have anything in his hands. He wondered what he had forgotten. He extended his hand timidly for the other man to take it, but he let out a soft gasp as he was literally lifted off the ground instead. He wrapped his arms around the man's neck and buried his face into it, feeling a little insecure. After all, the man was so much taller than his mother ! Yong Soo smiled fondly, liking the feeling of the little boy's warm skin and soft hair against his neck. He had the feeling that his presence would make his days a whole lot more interesting and enjoyable. ''And to the kitchen we go !'' He cried in a lively voice then started to run. The boy giggled. ''Faster !'' He asked, laughing still, and Yong Soo happily complied.

OoOoO

Arrived at the kitchen, Yong Soo looked at Mathieu with amusement. The child's eyes were wide and his mouth slightly opened. There were four cooks and two female maids to help them. One of the Chefs was preparing a large cooking-pot of soup, another one was cutting vegetables incredibly fast and another one was cutting the meat... ''They are preparing Mister Bonnefoy's lunch.'' Yong Soo explained.

''Is Fa-Mister Bonnefoy having guests ?'' The little blond whispered as he was seated on one of the marble counters.

''Haha ! No, he isn't.'' Yong Soo replied.

''Really ?'' He replied a little louder, genuinely surprised. ''He's going to eat aaall that soup by himself ?'' He asked in a childish manner.

''Ah, well, nobles like to make sure they enough of everything.'' He explained awkwardly.

''Oh...'' Came the soft reply. Mathieu still wasn't sure if he understood, though. So much soup !

''Who's that ?'' One of the cooks suddenly asked.

''Who ?'' One of the maids asked, looking around. Her eyes landed on Mathieu. ''Oh my ! What an adorable little boy !'' The other maid instantly looked around, her reaction very much like her friend's. Soon, everyone but one cook was around Mathieu, studying him carefully.

''Look at his hair ! What a beautiful shade of blond !'' The first maid said.

''And that adorable little nose !'' The second squealed. Mathieu's cheeks turned deep red at the unusual attention. He brought his hands to his face to hide.

''Sweet Lord... So adorable !'' The first maid exclaimed.

''Looks awfully like Mister Bonnefoy, don't you think ?'' A Chef replied, a little perplex. An awkward silence followed. Yong Soo began to panic, thinking himself stupid for not predicting this. Francis had not told him to explain the truth to the servants...

''Ah... he's... a relative. A cousin's son I believe.'' The Korean said, his voice hesitant. He hoped they wouldn't ask any questions.

''Umm... This is quite curious indeed. The resemblance is so...'' Another chef trailed off. The others nodded in agreement.

''Yes, quite so indeed haha, da ze ! Now, what would you like to eat, Mathieu ?'' Yong Soo said nervously, changing the subject.

''Mathieu ? Oh, what an adorable name !''

''Yes indeed ! What would you like to eat ? You just have to ask ! Auntie will make you anything you'd like !'' The second maid said animatedly.

Mathieu spread his fingers timidly so that only his eyes were visible. He blinked, then quickly hid his eyes again. ''Anything's fine.'' He finally said, his voice muffled his hands. The maids squealed.

''Is there something you particularly like ?'' Yong Soo kindly asked, carefully taking the boy's hands off his face. The boy did not struggle, though his cheeks reddened and his eyes stayed down.

''... N-No...'' He said softly.

''Reaaally ?'' Yong Soo insisted, smiling widely.

''... Well...'' Mathieu started hesitantly. ''I... I like crêpes very much...''

''Da ze !'' Yong Soo cried in victory. ''Crêpes it will be !''

''I'll take care of that !'' The first maid happily exclaimed.

''What ? No ! I want to do it !'' The second protested.

''I'll do it.'' A strong, deep voice emerged. Everyone looked toward the voice; it was the chef whom had stayed at his counter. ''You'' He started, looking intensely at his staff. ''should stop bothering the poor child and go back to your duties.'' He scolded. They all sighed, the maids more heavily, and obeyed. Yong Soo laughed openly at them, consequently earning glares from the staff, two of them harder than the others. Yong Soo, then, turned his attention back on the little boy. They chatted, Yong Soo asking the boy's favourite food, colours, games and such. Mathieu was very short-worded at first, but soon the child forgot about his timidity and talked lively. Yong Soo listened to every word said, a fond smile plastered on his face. It went by so fast that Mathieu had completely forgotten he was hungry until a generously furnished plate of warm crêpes was set beside him. The pastries were soaked with sweet strawberry syrup. Several fruits lay neatly cut and placed around them. Mathieu stared at the plate, wide-eyed, and almost didn't notice when Yong Soo took him in his arms to sit him on a chair in front of his meal. Mathieu turned to the cook, smiling widely.

''Thank you very, very much, sir !''

''No problem.'' The chef laughed, ruffling his hair. The boy giggled in reply, then turned to his meal. As he grabbed his fork, Mathieu didn't seem to notice that everyone's stares were on him. With his fork, Mathieu carefully cut through the thin cake and brought a piece to his mouth.

''Hmmm.'' Mathieu chew slowly, concentrating on the taste. ''They're the best crêpes I've ever eaten !'' He exclaimed. The chef smiled and nodded in thanks. One of the maids arrived with a large glass of milk.

''There, fresh milk for you !''

''Thank you, madame !''

''You're welcome, sweetie.'' She smiled fondly. ''He's so polite !'' She told her friend, who nodded in response. Mathieu eagerly extended his arms, remembering how thirsty he was. Unfortunately, it seemed like he was a bit too eager and knocked the glass down, milk spreading freely on the counter.

''Oh no ! I'm sorry, I'm sorry !'' Mathieu cried. He hid his face with his hands again, ashamed of his doing. The other maid quickly came to clean the mess.

''Don't worry, Mathieu-dear. The glass isn't even broken.'' She soothed. ''Look, it's all clean now.'' Mathieu dared a glance and saw that, indeed, everything had already been cleaned up. The other maid had went to get him another glass of milk. This time, Mathieu was very careful and used both his hands. He turned to the maids before drinking.

''Thank you... Sorry...'' He said softly. The women quickly dismissed the issue with a smile and everyone continued with their work.

''Mademoiselle Bouvier.'' Yong Soo called as the boy ate.

''Yes ?'' One of the women answered.

''When you're done here, I'd like you to go to Mister Bonnefoy's side in case he needs anything. He asked me to take care of Mathieu so...''

''Very well, Mister Im.''

OoOoO

The day went by exceedingly fast for both Mathieu and Yong Soo. Yong Soo showed the boy around the mansion, which was so grand it nearly took all afternoon to do so, then, after diner, Yong Soo had read the child a book in the library. Soon, night came and Yong Soo gave Mathieu a bath. Yong Soo led him one of his shirt for him to sleep in, seeing as Mathieu had no other clothes than the one he had wore today. In fact, nothing had been brought for the child.

''Tomorrow we'll buy you some night clothes, what do you think ?''

''It's alright, I don't need new clothes.'' Mathieu politely denied.

''Nonsense.'' Yong Soo replied teasingly as he took him in his arms. He walked through the alleys, the both of them were dived in a comfortable silence, until he arrived at the servants' wing of the mansion and stopped in front of one of the many doors. ''This is my room, so if you need anything, just tell me, alright ?'' The boy nodded. ''And this...'' He continued, moving to the door right next to his. ''...will be yours, da ze !'' He exclaimed, entering the room. Though plainly furnished, the room seemed comfortable. There was a single bed, a desk and a chair as well as a wardrobe. Mathieu was completely amazed. He never had a room so grand.

''This... this is my room ? Really ?'' He asked.

''Yes !'' Yong Soo answered and settled the child comfortably on the bed. Mathieu sunk under the blankets. He played nervously with his fingers, hesitant, before opening his mouth.

''Does Mister Bonnefoy hate me ?'' He asked in a soft, trembling voice. Yong Soo barely knew what to say to this.

''No, of course he doesn't. He's just... He's just surprised. He is very eccentric and never had a child to take care of. You'll see, with a little bit of time, he'll come to you.'' Mathieu looked down, unconvinced.

''But he doesn't want me to call him Father... Is he not my Father ? Why should I call him something else ?'' Yong Soo didn't answer, he couldn't. ''Mother said I should love my Father... but I don't think I can...'' He confessed, frowning deeply.

''Please, don't say that, Mathieu... Here, take this.'' He said as he took out two ripped pieces of paper. ''They're your mother's last words, you should keep them preciously.'' Yong Soo smiled and gave the letter to the child. Mathieu took the pieces and stared at them. He looked at them for a long while. His shoulder, then soon his hands, began to shake. Mathieu bit his lip, fighting back the tears. Yong Soo looked sadly at the scene. He stoked the boy's hair, trying to comfort him.

''I-I... I can't...'' Mathieu whispered. ''I can't read...'' Yong Soo stopped his movements, shocked by the statement. Wasn't the child seven years old ? Was his mother not educated ? ''Mother tri-tried to teach me, but...'' He stopped, tears falling freely now. Yong Soo, on instinct, hugged the crying child close to his heart and whispered soothing words until the child finally calmed down a bit. ''... I miss her ! I miss mommy !'' Tears fell again. Yong Soo was devastated. He could do nothing more than wait for the child to cry himself to sleep...

Note: Chapter one done ! Hope you enjoyed it. I'm sorry there wasn't much of Francis, but Korea's awesome too, da ze ? Also, if I'm correct, back in the 17th century, people didn't take baths because they believed water conveyed sickness... So sorry for being exceedingly lame, but since I find that quite disgusting, I decided that people in my fic would f*** take baths lololol.

Most of you probably guessed what's going on with Matthew. Although I haven't said it explicitly yet, I've let out several clues ! 8D If you haven't, then you'll find out in the next chapter !

Translation:
Dis Papa – Say Daddy
Duchesse – Duchess (lol)
Monsieur le Marquis – Mister the Marchioness
Crêpes – Pancakes (the thin ones)

PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW PLEASE REVIEW ;A;