FF – Hetalia
Reminiscent – Oneshot
Warnings : None
Summary : Amidst the terrors of the second world war, England and France take a moment to think and look back.
Characters : Arthur Kirkland/England, Francis Bonnefoy/France
A/N : Originally written for the Tumblr writing challenge.
The crisp sea breeze was a gentle lady, lightly tantalising him, drawing him closer towards the land that lay beyond the Channel. It was a land that held and kept his soul, a land that captured the very essence of his memories; it was a land that was his home. Salt drenched air and crashing waves was merely the cover of the book, and if he closed his eyes and observed with his heart, he could smell the faint scent of ash and gunpowder, and a hazy myriad of sounds that tangled the wailing of infants, the earth-shattering shelling and the disintegration of the country's spirit.
As he stood on the edge of the white, chalky cliffs, the fates beckoned him closer, seductively, quietly...
"What are you doing?"
The heavily accented drawl was a slap back to Earth. Francis whipped around and found himself staring at the king of all smirks and a cocky stare.
"Just enjoying the scenery, my dear. And what of you, being out here?" Francis remarked, blue eyes studying green.
"Hmph. I was wondering if you caved and kicked the bucket. Looks like I had my hopes up too high." Arthur retorted, walking up the ascending slope to stand beside the other. "And what barking scenery is there? All I can see is a sad, sodding landmass."
Francis rolled his eyes in disapproval. "Just because you can't appreciate beauty, does not mean it is not there."
He received a snort in return. There was a moment's of silence, and then-
"It hasn't changed." Arthur commented abruptly. The other raised an eyebrow in question. "The scenery, I mean. It hasn't changed much. At least, not in the last thousand years."
If Francis was slightly amused, he most certainly hid that well. "Oh?"
"Yes. I also remember… You on that boat. With Julius, the git, and his stupid, invading army."
"Ah… I remember that too… as well as the dumb look on your face as you watched us approach."
Arthur stamped on Francis' foot. "It wasn't a dumb look, you frog. It was a… a… oh, forget it." He huffed in annoyance. He wouldn't, not in a million years, ever admit that it was a look of awe. And why wouldn't he be, Julius was a man exuding charisma and leadership and commanded respect from every member of his fleet, and it was the first time Arthur had laid eyes upon such a being.
"Hmm. Touché. Ah, remember the pet bunny I brought you?" Francis hummed, taking a sit on the grassy edge. The other joined him, leaning forward to enjoy more of the wind.
"Oh… Yes, I suppose I do…" Arthur smiled at the thought of the brown furry rabbit. "Remember the time where codpieces were fashionable?" He sniggered a little. "Probably the only time I ever saw you balk at something considered trendy."
"My very fragile innocent heart was shattered by the sights, you see?" Arthur choked on his laughter, but Francis carried on, ignoring him. "Oh, remember when I taught you French?"
"Well, that, and the time I taught you English. You were a horrible student."
"You weren't any better, really."
"Probably still better than you ever would be. Oh, remember the time you bawled like a baby for three weeks?"
"… Arthur, that was because you won Matthew from me."
"Oh. Was it?"
"Yes."
"Ah… wait, was that why you helped Alfred?"
"Indeed it was."
"Oh… Should I apologise?"
"Ah, but would you really?"
"Nah, damn right I won't. Hey, remember when… "
It was funny how the both of them could sit by the cliff discussing old memories without a care for the world, how they could discuss their greatest heartaches as if it was the loss of mere toys, when before them, the fiery wrath of war raged on.
It was what kept the both of them sane. At least, it kept Francis sane.
And it went on, for more than an hour, just the two of them dredging up old times and the light, airy mood between them. Still, when they had grown tired of speaking, neither of them was discontent to sit in the comfortable silence quietly, basking in the cool asylum.
As the sun slowly begin to set and night approached, Francis stood up and dusting himself for a moment. "Well then, rosbif, shall we return before your boss starts sending out search parties for us?"
"Snuff it, frog, that wouldn't actually-," his words were cut off by the echoes of English scouts in the distance, yelling for the both of them. Arthur blinked in slight surprise. "Oh… Surprisingly, you are right for once." He allowed the other to help him up, picking out stray leaves and grass that had found their way to their clothing.
"Hmph, Oh, and by the way, thank you, I suppose."
"Whatever for?"
"Ah, never you mind."