Author's note: You all already knew I'd ship France/anyone pretty much. Now I give you one of my favorite, underrated pairings: Élysée (France/Germany). Also if I didn't mention I signed up for a table challenge on LJ (you can find the link to my LJ on my profile) and picked historical and France. Which means you'll be getting lots more goodies including two more moments with these (besides what I wrote over my vacation). I just figured if I was going to WWII sites in France it presented a perfect opportunity to explore their relationship.
And I'm in love with these two.
Pronunciation
"What's this say?" Coming to stand beside him Francis quickly takes in the plaque, the biggest one on the ground under the Arc de Triomphe. The plaques, each gold in color with words of memorial, are normally skipped over when the French nation visits here since he did live through the wars they mark. Behind him the flame burns for the unknown solider, the monument Francis visits each time he returns to Paris and what was the objection of his attention today with his guest.
But this plaque is different, the one in question, the date above it from 1940. "It's about the occupation," Francis states heavily, his shoulders falling. Ludwig barely reacts, only shifting awkwardly a bit.
"I know that. It's an address from de Gaulle, but what does it actually say?" Ludwig asks in hushed English. "I don't understand all of it."
"It's not something I hold against you anymore," Francis whispers because the German isn't meeting his eyes. "You're young, and I'm not anymore. It was a long time ago, the war." Ludwig nods once.
"Does it ever go away?" the younger nation finally asks and Francis knows just what he means: the pain, the angst, the memories of who you became in that moment when you thought you'd had it all. Francis has done many things he's not proud of, things that ended poorly and left France the demonized loser for so long. Hell, they're standing under an arch he had helped Napoleon design. It's not easy, but that's how it is.
"Nein."
Ludwig nods once more, looking about them as he adjusts his coat against the bitter wind, as if someone might have noticed him as a one-time Nazi and not as a curious German tourist. "Can I ask a favor of you?"
Francis smiles. "Well now, that depends. What is it?"
"My, uh- I learned French, when I- I was here. But it wasn't right, and my pronunciation is probably awful-" A hand on his large arm silences the German.
"My pleasure. Now, the plaque…."