Mon frère ainé

Summary: It's after the Norman conquest of England, and France has been given the role of 'Big Brother', will England be able to let him play that role?

Pairings: FrUK (Brotherly)

Disclaimer: ...Yeah, it's true. I don't own Hetalia. Shocking I know! I was surprised to!

A/N: I've been planning on doing this oneshot for a while. and I figured 'Why not?' It's an extra to my other story 'When the Fae Interfere, Havoc Ensues'. Anyway, This one-shot is dedicated to StarvedCrazedWeasel, as a thank-you for all of our wonderful conversations and for her one-shot that she dedicated to me 'A day well spent' I really reccomend you go check out her stories. I'm, sorry this took so long dear!

o*0*0*0*o

France sighed heavily. After William* had become king of England, he had been given the position of being the 'Big brother of the countried personification, Arthur. This normally would have overjoyed him, he was in charge of a little nation just like Spain and Prussia! Only...Arthur hated him. Whenever he tried to get close to the tiny personification, Arthur would punch him in the gut, or threaten him with his bow and arrow, before calling him a 'Disgusting slimy frog' and darting off into the dense forest, mumbling to himself. France didn't know what to do about it! He had tried everything! Baking him things, trying to teach him about French culture, and even just flat out begging hadn't worked! He was at the end of his rope, he just couldn't seem to make England like him. France sighed again, long and drawn out. Tomorrow, he would leave England early, and spend the rest of the year in France*. After all, the only reason he stayed was to get close to his new petit frère* but that wasn't going to happen anytime soon. As France was making this decision, he failed to notice the subject of his thoughts hiding behind a tree nearby the one France himself was sitting under.

England sighed to himself, and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. He didn't know what to think, France claimed to be his big brother, but his other three older brothers hated him and were mean to him. Older brothers were mean, bullying creatures that shouldn't be trusted, he knew that for a fact...but, France really hadn't been anything but nice to him. He had made sweets for him, and tried to teach him about French etiquette and culture so he wouldn't be seen as an outsider at court. He really wasn't that similar at all to his other brothers. England hated having his ideals proven wrong, especially ones that were so ingrained in him. When he heard a soft tinkle and a quiet sigh, he looked up. One of his fae friends was fluttering above him, her long, kee-length dark hair matching the length of her rose petal dress. England beamed happily, one ofhis friends had come to play!

"Rosalyn!" he exclaimed excitedly "Have you come to play?"

The fairy shook her head and smiled fondly at the little nation.

"No, dear one. I've not come to play. I've come to tell"

Englands smiled waned dissapointedly, but it didn't last long, when the fae wanted to tell him something it was usually important. He looked up at his friend again and nodded, silently telling her to continue.

"Dear one, our sweet nation, you must stop being so...cruel to France, he's not your other brothers rose bud."

England frowned, was he really being cruel to France? He was just trying to keep himself safe...but Rosalyn had said that France wasn't like his other brothers...did that mean he should trust him? England looked up to his friend, confused and asked,

"How do you know Rosalyn? How do you know that France is safe, that he won't hurt me like they do?"

Rosalyn sighed sadly. The fae loved all of the brothers dearly, but England was special to them(they had practically raised him though, so it was no wonder) he seemed to care for and respect them more than his brothers did (Not to say the others didn't care for and respect them) and they were all heartbroken that the brothers, who should be close as can be, couldn't seem to get along for the slightest amount of time. She shook herself out of her depressing musings and answered the patiently waiting nation.

"Rose-bud, he tries so hard to gain your trust and affection because he want's to be a good big brother to you, not to hurt you. Brave little soldier, if you continue to keep him out, he will leave sweet one."

Englands brow furrowed. France...would leave? He didn't want that. He may not trust him much, but he did like him, and he did enjoy his company...silently, England rose from his hiding spot, yawned, and quietly trotted over to where France sat. Rosalyn ahook herr head and smiled softly, maybe there was hope for them yet.

France awoke from his light doze when a small body settled next to him, he glanced over and saw England snuggled into his side, presumedly trying to fall asleep. France startled for a brief second before smiling fondly and making himself comfortable as well. Maybe he would stay, if only for a little while.

From afar, Rosalyn and her fellow fae watched the duo with content smiles. Things would work out well.

In the future

"France, sir! England has declared war on France!"

France spit out the wine he was drinking. WHAT?

o*0*0*0*o

TFF: So, here's the one-shot I promised StarvedCrazedWeasel! I hope you like it! And everyone else to! I'll try and update my other two stories soon!

French

petit frère- little brother

Mon frère ainé (title)- My big brother.

*William the conqueror, a Norman duke who lead an army into England when he wasn't given the throne as he had been promised by the former king Edward the Confessor.

And that bit at the end...I really just couldn't resist...I think it was England who declared war first, but I'm not sure. If it's a mistake, tell me and I'll fix the ending. Ta-ta for now~!