The Hetalia Chronicles:Pains of the Nations
France
Hetalia: I do not own
Everyone assumes this man a pervert or rapist because he merely is. But there is something far deeper behind the story. France lost someone he held very dear to him. Joan of Arc. Foolishly he grew found of her and eventually fell in love with her.
He admired her strength and courage. France was infatuated with her ability to step out of the lines drawn for women of those times. He loved the way she fought as well as any man on the battle field. The memory of her being burned on the stake in her armor forever haunts him.
She was either to be hung as a women (Being accused as a witch) or burned on the cross in her armor. It was her choice to die as she lived; in her battle armor.
Of course France had come. Of course it scared France for life.
The loss of the only women he could ever love changed him. France felt the hole in his heart appear as soon as the flames licked her legs and the screaming began. Ever since, the man has been trying to find something to fill that hole.
Drinking became a more than over active hobby along with patrolling the streets for cheap women of the night to fill his void. Each sip offered him a short while of forgetting what had happened that day. Every woman owned a path of a potential new love.
Nothing came of it.
As time passed, France grew bored of simple street walkers and turned to fellow nations. The easiest was always Britain. Although the French state never loved Britain. Just him being alive nearly as long, it gave his consistency that humans never had. He thought this might fill the hole.
So he chased Britain, feeling the hole fill half way each time. Often he would search for the Brit when thoughts of Joan filled his mind. Sadly for him, it all changed in 1776. When America broke free of the island nation. At first there was no change, and then America confessed he had always loved England.
This concerned and broke France's heart for many reasons. His molesting and stalking of the country shrunk drastically to the minimum. For he still had his heart. If he saw someone doing that to Joan he wouldn't be happy so he reduced his touching to a minimum. Yet another disgusting hobby under the influence of love.
Through all the years he scanned the world for a look alike or even, by chance, a reincarnation. But fate mocked him. It put love of display so he could only observe and wish. Everyone around him in love and happy while he stayed silently miserable forever.
Francis closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, letting the spring air fill his lungs. The sweet scent of lilies coated his nostrils. He sat under a tree for the cooling shade mixed with the warm breeze. The valley he sat in was cradled between two mountains, giving an amazing view from every angle. It seemed like heaven.
The blue eyes lazily opened. When the lids finally unmask his eyes completely, they fall on something in the distance. Or rather, someone. At first the skirts fluttering in the breeze seemed like an allusion but France knew better. He bolted up and ran to the silhouette.
He nearly tackled her when he wrapped his arms completely around the young girl. "Joan! Joan, Joan, Joan, Joan, Joan, Joan!" France chocked on his words as he felt tears drop quickly from his eyes. The slur of the girl's name sound like begging, pleading, and questioning all in once. "Jeanne d'Arc! My sweet! My love!"
There was a light laugh to be heard. "Francis I know you missed me but I need to breathe!" France smiled and loosened his grip enough to say he wasn't suffocating her. This way he was able to see her face. She smiled at him. "Hello Francis." That name. She was the only human who knew both his names. To her he was Francis Boonefoy and France the country.
"I think we're passed hello, Joan." He smiled sweetly as he referred to moments ago when he was squeezing the air out of her. "Your right. Now is the time to catch up!" Francis' heart dropped like a stone. Mostly because of the past 600 year but also at the smile she gave him.
He drops to his knees and began to sob. She immediately sat herself down next to him. "I'm sorry! Joan! I-I failed you! I am disgusting! Worthless! I don't understand how you can look at me!" His mistakes burn his heart, feeling the true guilt of it all flood into his mind.
Joan smiled softly as silent tears rolled down her rosy cheeks. "I-It's okay…If you waited for me…You'd….You'd never have sex again… I-I'm fine…I could expect you to do that for me…" Francis clasped her hands in his. "Non! That is the problem! I should 'ave been faithful to you! My needs should have taken second place to your emotions! I should have waited! Forever if I had to!"
A shared silence fell between them. Their minds were both stuck on the same thing. They would never be together again. His immortality curses him to live even with the worst injuries. Her death was the end. Somewhere they knew. They knew their love would be cut short. But not that short.
"I should have never…" Francis began. "I should have never let you fall into Britain's hands." He gripped on of the skirts pooled around him. "I should have saved you that day. I should have cut you free. I should have done everything I could to help you-"
"But you did," He looked up at her smiling, red face. "You gave me the world and that's what I needed. And when I was executed, you were there." Her eyes dripped again. "If you weren't there I would have died without seeing your face one more time. But I did. S-So thank you. Thank you for everything you've done for me."
Francis starred at her through his tears. The only thing he could think to do was kiss her. He leaned in to take her cold lips. As he got closer, though, she began to fade. Her hands, her skirt, her lips all fading into nothing but air. The scene around him too began to dissolve as pigment by pigment faded into sheer darkness.
He cried her name and begged her to return to him. Nothing came of it.
Francis bolted out up right in his bed. He sighed and whipped the cold sweat off his forehead. The same dream again.
HEY GUYS! Whats up? Haha...France depression... So how'd you guys like it? Reviews are deepily loved. Anyways I will be writing the sob story for a lot of the characters. Prussia, Romano, Canada, England, ect. I WILL TAKE REQUESTS! Review or PM me if you want a sob story on your favorite characters. And I might put in your favorite parring (If I don't hate it that much) even though I did put a dash of FrUk in there even though I HATE THAT PARRING! *Cough* anyways... Just contact me and talk to me^^ I'm not as crazy as I sound (Or am I?) Hahaha review!
OH AND BY THE WAY! THE TITLE IS ALL DAISY-MAX1196! SHE GETS ALL THE CREDIT FOR THE TITLE! MUAHAHAHAHA!
