France sat at his desk looking rather tired. He didn't know what to do with himself anymore. There was always feeling inside of him that, despite being on the losing side, he had still accomplished something great. He had managed to do what no one else could do. He had done some good for the world, even if those closest to him could not see him.

Yet he sat at his desk wondering just how he was going to conduct a stable foreign policy with half of Europe determined to ensure he stayed as weak as possible.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone approaching him from behind. 'If this is yet another person here to attack me, then they might as get it over with' he thought dryly.

"What do you want?" Francis asked, not bothering to turn around and see who was there.

The young boy standing at the doorway behind him stared at him, with a slightly fearful look on his face. Yet he could not bring himself to speak.

"Speak to me," He commanded, "I do not have the patience for this!"

Romania had a loss for words. He wanted to say something. He really wanted to speak but he couldn't. It was almost as if he had forgotten how to speak French the moment he heard the bitterness in France's voice.

"Fra... Frate?" Costel gulped, he hadn't meant to say that. He knew he shouldn't have said that. He didn't even know why he said it. It's not like they're actually brothers after all. Sure, Rome had introduced the man to him to be his 'older brother' but he already had a brother and an older sister. Not to mention a mother, Dacia, who they all loved very much. Why would he want anyone else?

"Pardon?" France asked, somewhat surprised as he turned around to see the small Romanian standing there. France had guessed that Romania had called him 'brother' in his language since the two were very similar. It would be a wicked word to mutter, if he had. For everyone of the man's brothers had turned against him in war, Romania being no exception to this.

"Fr...Franţa," Romania said hoping to cover up his earlier mistake but still stuttering slightly, "Bonjour, Comment avez-vous été?"

France noticed the fear in the youngster's eyes and decided to change his body language to something less offensive. He was still curious to the other's presence, knowing well that the young boy was under Turkish control and could possibly be there to spy.

"I am fine, Roumanie" France replied, in French.

"Good, I'm glad" Romania said also in French. He continued the rest of their conversation in the same language, although Romania struggled slightly.

"So what brings you here?" Francis leant on his desk. His legs still ached from the years of battle, he couldn't really stand much without it showing.

"I was wondering if you could, perhaps, provide some help..."

Francis perked up at this. Did the Ottoman Empire need help? French help? It was highly unlikely but a tempting thought none the less. If he needed help then it would have the tables turn and perhaps France could expand out of his confines that the other nations were imposing on him.

"Help with what? Trade? empire?... Medicine?" he asked hoping it was the latter.

"Urm, no..." Romania suddenly felt very small

"Well spit it out, boy!" France was starting to lose patience.

"I really want to learn." Romania said quickly. When France didn't respond he decided to continue, "I want to study sciences... and maths... and maybe practice my french a little more."

"You mean, you, Roumanie want to learn from myself?" Francis asked a little surprised and a little disappointed.

"Yes, I really do."

"I am not much of a teacher..." France wasn't sure about this. Romania was a nation under someone else's control. He shouldn't be seen with him, let alone teach him. It will defiantly be seen as suspicious. There's no way this would end well. "So I must decline. I am sorry. You shall have to learn from somewhere else."

"but there is nobody else!" Costel raised his voice. "I want to learn from you and you alone!"

"Why? Surely you have people closer to you who can..."

"I hate the people close to me," He cried, "I'm forced to learn Turkish and Russian and Hungarian and I'm shunned for my religion and my culture and my language and for just wanting to be myself!"

"I... I'm sorry but..."

"Yet you're so kind and understanding." tears slowly started to fall down the young boys cheeks,"Please, You must, Please, I beg you!"

"I am not the right person to help you, dear."

"Please," he said once more, "You are so intelligent and innovative and I look up to you so much!"

France walked over to the small boy and placed a hand in his hair.

"I doubt, little one, that I am someone to look up to. I am afraid many do not hold such a high veiw of me" he smiled sweetly down to face Costel who refused to look back up at him.

"but I do! I want to be just like you! One day I will be free and I'll look upon my main city and It will look just like yours..."

"ah, but you are so small, Your city will be noting more than a miniature to mine" Frances was playfully teasing the lad and playing with his hair.

"Please." Romania looked up to the taller nation. "I only want to learn, just for a few hours every fortnight, I'll pay I promise." Francis wasn't sure if it was the crying, or the flattery, or the promise of money that made himself say it, but he suspected that it may be something to do with the way Costel had grabbed his shirt as he begged, looking so innocent and adoring, something he saw in Canada back when he was still young. His little son who he missed so much, who also had messy blond hair at the time, used to do the exact same thing whenever he was upset, or really wanted something.

Perhaps if it wasn't for such a sweet memory, he wouldn't have said the words he knew he'd regret.

"To be your teacher, it would be my pleasure." France spoke softly, his hand stroking the other's hair, not paying attention to how uncomfortable it was to stand for so long.

"Thank you"

After the Napoleonic wars, in the 19th Century, France was quickly trying to gain back it's strength and power. This is set around this time but I haven't set a specific date because I'm not quite sure where this would fit... maybe 1820-ish. I'm not too sure.

Okay so disclaimer: No offense is intended to The French, The Romanians, The Russians, The Hungarians, The Turkish or the countries mentioned in this fic or to anyone ever! This is just a small, multi chapter, piece of badly written fan fiction(although I like it enough to publish it) which will have some countries being described in a positive/negative manner by other countries because that's how said country would feel about the other said country ect.

Well of course I don't want trolls, nonconstructive criticism, rudeness, ect, I wouldn't mind some critique even if it's small things like spelling/grammatical mistakes. Well whatever you write... please review! XD (I really do appreciate reviews)

Anyway! Thanks for reading thus! *hugs* This is the introduction to the story. It goes on to modern day but I wanted to write a few chapters about the 19th Century since it's a big deal in both Romania (w00t- Independence and United Principalities!) and France (Germ Theory- hell yeah! You go Pasteur and your medicine awesomeness) and the two will have lots to talk about.

So anyway! Thanks for reading! Toodles!