This was just something I thought about after my friend (Hetahearts) and I argued over the Napoleonic Wars. I looked up the history and showed her that H.R.E did dissolve at the end of the wars, and that France was the one that caused it. So I'll try this idea out in my first oneshot!
France rarely visited the spot where he lay. He wasn't even entirely sure that it was the real body. The soldiers just pulled out the first dead boy they found in the mountainous rubble of Lützen and threw in on the wagon with all the other civilian corpses. The body they thought was him was too disfigured and dirty to distinguish who it was anyway.. Besides, all the confederation cared about at that point was that there was at least something in that tiny coffin. They treated the body with respect, cleaning it as best they could, then dressing it in his signature black cloak and hat before passing it on to his family.
He didn't attend the actual funeral, to many enemies were present, as was the boys only love... Plus, his boss wanted him in Paris that evening, they had to get everything ready before they departed for Elba. Napoleon had told him that he had "business" to attend to on the island, but France new. Bonaparte had been beaten by Russia, now the rest of Europe would target him as their joined enemy. He cried when the Siberian giant marched underneath the Arch de Triomphe with his army.
But that was then... Now he was at the spot now. A weathered tombstone, carved out of white marble, bearing prayers of hope and heaven in Latin. There was no name on the stone, but any country could easily tell who the spot cradled if they looked at the carving of the crest of Hapsburg near the top. The marker sat on a small hill, framed by wild daisies and tulips, two massive and ancient oaks flanking each side. The hill radiated beauty and serenity in the early evening, the sun giving the while marble an orange halo, the trees casting elongated shadows that seemed to sit like sentries at the gates of heaven. In a way, they were...
France had been standing in front of the stone, but then he knelt, one hand on his knee, and used the other to lightly pet the top of the small monument. It was cold, almost as cold as the air on that day in Lützen. He traced the softly carved scriptures with his index finger, translating them to his native French in his mind.
"Bonjour Holy Rome..." He said, still tracing the stone, "It's been a while, hasn't it?" The stone gave no reply, but France continued to speak to it, hoping that it could send his message where it needed to be.
"You should see your little girlfriend. She's grown up quite well." He stopped tracing the words and let his hand fall to his side. "Only... She's not a she anymore... But that's not your fault; everybody makes mistakes, everybody..." His eyes closed and his head turned away from the stone slightly.
"How have you been? Probably very well, seeing as your with dieu." His head slowly pivoted back to the tombstone and his face became more solemn.
"I wanted to tell you something before... It happened..." He let out a small, sad chuckle. "I can't believe I can still remember it." His closed eyes began to leak small, crystalline tears while he moved to sit in a cross-legged pose. "I didn't want to do it. He wanted it done, called you a disorganized waste of space, a roadblock on his path to Russia... He said it would be like... like tournage d'un poisson dans un tonneau... But was was I to do? Kill him after he put me back together, after making me a superpower? I couldn't... Besides, his first day as emperor he told me that disobedience would be met with the blade of a guillotine." He sighed, "I was selfish back then, I put my life above yours, a small child's..."
France dug around in his pocket and fished out a small stone cross on a silver chain. "I found this rummaging through the building they pulled that body out of... that building I left you in... I know it's been 200 years, but I kept it with me waiting for the day that I came here. Now I want you to have it... It could be yours anyway." He placed the small trinket on the top of the stone, taking care to wrap the chain up so that it didn't pull the cross to the ground later.
"Désolé, Saint Rome..." He said as he stood and walked off the hill, eyes still dewy, "Je suis désolé d'avoir dû briser votre bateau ... Au moins maintenant, vous pouvez reposer en paix dans les eaux chaudes du ciel."
I hope that was good enough. It, in my opinion, wont compare to some of the other oneshots I've read. But, hey, It's my first one.
Please review! Au revoir!
Dieu- God
Désolé, Saint Rome..- Sorry, Holy Rome...
tournage d'un poisson dans un tonneau...- shooting a fish in a barrel...
Je suis désolé d'avoir dû briser votre bateau ... Au moins maintenant, vous pouvez reposer en paix dans les eaux chaudes du ciel.- I'm sorry I had to break your boat... At least now you can rest in peace in the warm waters of heaven.