Several nations sat at the home of France. England, Japan, China, Austria, and Germany. They were discussing peace treaties and the such. The meeting had run long, and it was now late in the night. England sat chewing the side of his cheek, and tapping his finger against the table. He looked over to the Frenchman jabbering about random jargon and spoke up impatiently.
"Are we almost finished here France? Late as it is…Alfred was put to bed hours ago by Hughes…but I still wanted to wish him goodnight. He'll be awfully upset at me if I don't at least go and see him." Said England as he raised his tea cup and took a sip from it. He was slightly annoyed, having been summoned to the meeting while he was spending some time with his little brother America.
France gave an eye over to England. Never really that fond of the nation, he still tolerated him, but limited his conversations.
"Oui…I just 'ave a couple more things to go over, and then you all may leave. Besides Arthur…'ou don't think my little Mathieu would like to say goodnight to his Papa?" France straightened up in his chair and then listed through his papers. England looked over to that dreaded frog and mumbled.
"I don't give a rats ass at all France pants…and…mmmm.." He looked down at the table while France looked back at him, semi smiling, but annoyed.
"Hoh hoh, okay…let us carry on shall we?" France handed out information sheets.
The meeting drabbled on for another twenty minutes, once it was over, the nations got up, and France bid goodnight to each one. As he shut the door to his home, he looked over to the clock and noticed it was past ten at night. Even though he knew his little one would be fast asleep, he still wanted to see him. Telling the wait staff to clean up the meeting room, he walked up the grand stair case and walked towards Canada's room. As he approached the door, he turned the handle and the door opened slowly. Once it was opened, he looked in, and there lay the delightful little four year old blond haired cherub. A smiled formed on France's face, and he walked over, and sat gracefully on the bed. He reached out a hand, and ran his fingers through the boy's hair, while watching him sleep. This caused the child to wake up slowly, and look up.
"Papa?" The boy rubbed his eyes and looked up at the Frenchman's face. The boy smiled, and leaned in, having his father's embrace. France just watched the child, but then was interrupted by someone approaching the doorway. Looking up he noticed it was one of the maids. Clearing his throat, he spoke.
"Oh…Yvette…'ave you been 'ere all night?" France watched as his number one maid walked by…she looked back at him with slight upset. Walking over to the bed, she sat down, and brushed her hand against Canada's cheek.
"Monsieur, when you weren't around to put this little one to bed, I felt the need to step in." Matthew looked up at his father, and then back at Yvette. The boy loved her so much because she was around all the time.
She was very important in the boy's life, and before he was around, Yvette was just the maid, now she acted more like a nanny, but still did whatever France asked of her. Somewhat annoyed at his parenting, she leaned down and kissed the little boy, adjusting his blankets.
"Go to bed little one, it is very late. I am going to have a little talk with your Papa, perhaps he should see you to bed when he has a free moment." She stood up, and waited as France got up. He winked at the boy, and then the two left the room.
"Oh Yvette…I can not tell you 'ow much help you 'ave been…and…"
Yvette cocked her head to the side. She was fed up with how little responsibility the French nation had. Usually always sitting in his drawing room with a bottle of wine by his side, chasing all the pretty girls in town, and sometimes bringing them home, chasing all his pretty maids, and taking them to his bedroom as well, and holding somewhat informal, and impromptu meetings with the other nations. This barley left time for the little Canada to spend time with his father.
"I don't believe one word you say anymore Mister France." She felt a little odd talking to him in this tone, but something had to be said. She huffed and looked him into the eyes. "Perhaps if I leave with Matthew for a couple of days, get him away from the house, perhaps that will give you time to reflect?"
France's mouth hung open. To have his precious little Matthew taken away from him. It was just too cruel. He went to react, but looking at Yvette's face, he just could not.
"Good…very good Francis. I will take the child in the morning, and then…" Yvette was interrupted by France's butler Marquis. France's butler, who had been around a long time, and helped raise the nation when he was younger. A dashingly handsome older gentleman with spectacles and longish hair who from the looks of it seemed a little sorry he had interrupted the conversation between the two. France smiled, but Yvette didn't.
"Excusez moi Monsieur France…may I have a word?" Marquis stood by, and Yvette seeing as nothing more could be said walked away, dismissed herself to the servants quarters. He watched her, and then sighed. Nodding to the butler, the two talked.
Marquis went over a couple of things that needed to happen the following day, he adjusted his glasses and sighed. Keeping an agenda for the nation was always a trying responsibility, most of the time, France did not want to go ahead with plans, but Marquis made sure of him following up…he had somewhat of a parental control over the Frenchman. Once he was finished, he walked out of the room. France felt bad for the way things ended with Yvette, but she would be fine.
This was indeed a disappointing night. Francis walked down the hallway and arrived in his study. Closing the door, he walked over to the decanter of his most beloved merlot, and poured a generous glass. Laying on his desk was a deposition regarding some land treaties. Sipping the wine slowly, France walked over to a large purple velvet armchair and settled down in it. He held the glass in one hand, and read over the form, slightly annoyed. He had a headache, and it was getting late, but somehow sleep had not entered his mind. France shook his head, and tipped back the glass, taking all the wine, and swallowing in one large gulp. Sobriety was fading fast. He got up from the chair, and walked over, pining for another glass when he heard a knock upon his door. Looking over to it, he softly mumbled.
"Er…come in…" He said slowly, and slightly annoyed, as it was late, and he just wanted to be left alone. The door opened and to his surprise, Ezme one of the other maids walked in. She seemed slightly concerned, and closed the door behind her. Standing there, she looked at her Master.
"Monsieur France…is everything alright? I…heard the confrontation between you and Yvette, and I wanted to know if there was anything I can do for you?" She looked down while running a casual finger along the inside of her shirt, playing with the ruffles, and she could not help but smile.
France hiccupped and then set his wine glass down. He stood by his desk, and crossed his arms over his chest. This wasn't the first time one of his maids had approached him with certain thoughts on their mind. More than one time, France would actually make his way to the servants quarters and have a little fun.
"'Ello Ezme…I 'ave just 'ad a rough day and I need to be alone." He stood up from his chair and walked over to the window facing the gardens, and stood, trying to contemplate tomorrow. He stood breathing hard, as Ezme made her way over to him, and with much determination, went and placed her arms around his waist. He did not stop this, and welcomed her touch.
"Maître…I am here for you, and will do anything you wish." She embraced him with his back to her, and rubbed at his finely muscled torso. Enjoying this, France smiled. "You understand that I am your servant, willing to please you…" She nudged into him, with her hands going lower and grabbing hold of him fully, rubbing it with desire.
"Oh….mmm, Ezme…naughty, naughty." He moaned and quickly turned around, grabbing hold of the maid, and leaning in ran his tongue down her neck, and giving her little kisses and nips. She accepted this and giggled, but then ran her hands to his belt buckle, and loosened it. He stopped kissing her, and looked down, grinning. "Oh, I 'ze where 'zis is going." He walked backwards and fell into his chair by his desk. Ezme slowly walked over and knelt down on her knees. France stayed sitting, and waited.
Meanwhile back in the servants wing, Marquis was making a check list of everything that needed to be accomplished in the morning. He was steadily working, when Yvette and some of the other maids walked in. She was yawning, as it was time for the staff to settle in, and take their rest. The other maids walked past Marquis, but he just gave Yvette a stare. Slightly confused that she was not accompanied by Ezme, he turned to her and spoke.
"Yvette…where is Ezme this evening?" He raised an eyebrow and looked at the blond headed woman. She was a delight to look at, as were all the maids France hired. Each one gorgeous in their own way, and France being the Master of the house was very familiar with all of them, but he especially liked Yvette, even though she sometimes was a bit pushy. She had curly blond hair, the bluest of blue eyes, and a voluptuous figure, even sporting a fantastic set of breasts. But sadly, because of the way they had ended things tonight, France decided to take up with Ezme.
Yvette did not make eye contact with the butler, and she knew she had to answer to him, being that Marquis was usually the person the staff answered to when France was not around. Still slightly peeved at her Master, she tried to respond, but the words did not come out so well.
"Um…well, she was seen down by Master France's study, and well…" She didn't finish the conversation as Marquis nodded.
"Yes I understand now…very well, nothing can be done until the Master is finished. Well now, off to bed Yvette, see you in the morning." He waited until she understood that she had to go.
Nodding her head, Yvette turned and walked towards her servant's chamber. It was shared with Ezme, so she knew that the other maid who most likely tell her everything. Marquis cleared his throat and set down his pen. He would now make it his point to find Ezme because it was getting late, no matter what France wanted. Protocol for the night was now in place.
He took it upon himself to walk down the hall and arrived at France's door. He leaned in an ear and heard little moans, and playful laughter. Rapping on the door, he waited for an answer. When there was no response, he opened the door.
"Ahhhh….ugh, oh Ezme…you are so…ugh…OH…Marquis! What…um…" France looked up at the door, and at the same moment Ezme's head popped up and she looked slightly embarrassed."
"Good evening Master France…I apologize for the intrusion…but you do realize it is quite late, and much is to be done tomorrow…" He looked to Francis with a slight annoyed look. France just leaned back in his seat, adjusting his trousers, and smiled. He took the maid's hand, and helped her up.
"Thank you Marquis…I suppose I 'ave 'ad a long day, 'zere is nothing more than a good nights sleep. 'Zeems like the right idea." He rose out of his chair, and stood by the maid. Leaning to her ear, he spoke gently. "We can finish another night mon amour. Bonne nuit!" He kissed her on the cheek, and watched as she walked away, past the butler who looked on as well, and then turned his full attention back to his Master.
"Honestly Mister France…" He smirked, and then waited for the nation.
"Oh Marquis…it was 'nuzzing but a little play. Anyways, I will take my leave for 'ze night, and go on up to my room. 'Zank you." He waltzed past the butler, and left the room, still slightly inebriated, but feeling very relaxed after Ezme's visit.
Arriving in his own quarters up the stairs, he breathed a sigh. The room surrounding him was adorned with periwinkle walls, and a lavish white down comforter bed, with purple ribbons strewn alongside. There was a large bay window, with pillows and lace curtains. He walked over to the wardrobe and opened the doors. Peering in, he looked to a long white night shirt, and pulled it out. He threw off his clothing and let it drop to the ground. Standing in the bare, he yawned and stretched. Pulling the shirt up and over his head, he let it fall. Then walking to the bed, he cast aside the blankets, and crawled in. Sleep came quickly.
Morning arrived, and little Canada opened his eyes. The sun was shining into his room, and he rolled over with a smile. It was morning, and that meant that his father was home, and they could have breakfast together and possibly spend the whole day with one another. He happily scurried out of the bed, and his little feet hit the floor. If he knew one thing, his Papa liked to sleep in late, and it being only seven in the morning, the boy could go and wake the nation up. He quickly grabbed his white stuffed bear named Kumajirou, who when there was no one else around, the bear came to life and would often talk to him, and this caused the boy to get into trouble sometimes.
Opening the door to his room, the child ran down the hallway, and towards his father's. The large room was at the end of the mansion, opposite Matthew's, but it was on the same floor. Arriving at the door, he twisted the door handle, and fighting with it for a moment, managed to get the door open. Once that was accomplished, he looked around the room. Always in awe even though he had been in there many time, he looked over to the large bed and walked over to the side. France was in a slumber, and had his cheek smoothed up against a pillow, breathing in and out, snoring slightly. The little boy giggled a little bit and put his hand up, encasing France's mouth. The nation breathed in through his nose, but gasped and sputtered when he tried to breath out.
"Ugh…..aghhhh….ack!" He sat up in bed quickly, and coughing violently he had to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Ughhh, oh Sacrebleu!" He rubbed at his eyes, and heard little laughter. Looking down, he smiled.
"Morning Papa!" The little boy stood at the bedside, and reached his arms out, wanting to get into the bed. France cleared his throat, and leaned down.
"'Ello, 'ello my little boy. Come 'ere to Papa." He lifted up the child into his bed, and the two laid against the giant pillows. France embraced the boy, and leaned his chin against Matthew's fair blond hair.
The boy stayed in the nation's arms, happily humming, and holding his stuff bear. He then looked up at France and had a slight pout.
"Papa, Yvette is going to take me away…I don't want to go Papa, I want to stay here with you." The boy just stared at the nation with his large and rapidly blinking blue eyes. France just smiled down at him, with reassurance that they would be together.
"Oh mon petit, I will not allow it. You are going to stay 'ere with your Papa, and that is final."
"Yay!" The boy nuzzled closer, and then breathed in deep. With sudden moves however, he got out of the bed, and stood by it jumping up and down with glee. "Papa, Papa, I want breakfast. Come, let's go have some breakfast. Please, Monsieur chef might have made something yummy!"
France watched as the child bounced up and down, but the fact of the matter was, it was still very early in the morning. The nation just wanted to drag the blankets over his face, and fall back asleep. He really had no choice but to get up. He decided he would try to persuade the boy to let him sleep a little bit longer.
"Mathieu, can you let 'our Papa sleep for a little while longer? S'il vous plaît?" The nation tried this plead every once in a while, but he knew the answer. The boy giggled, and pressed his little nose against the mattress.
"Non, non, non Papa! You have to get up…we have to have breakfast!"
Seeing as he was not going to win, he yawned loudly and got out of the bed. Scratching his sides, he then walked over to the child and picked him up.
"Bath time for little Mathieu and Papa!" He walked with the child in his arms, and went to his own private and luxurious bathroom. It held a large basin, and was adorned with a vanity fit for a king.
Turning the handles, he let the forced hot water stream out, switching every so often with cold bursts, so as to make the bath water perfect. He then added lavender, and some chamomile. Turning to the boy, he knelt down.
"Arms up little one…we 'ave a long day…" He breathed in deep, mumbling to himself. "An even longer day, being up at 'zis time." He proceeded to take the boy's night shirt off, lifting it up over Matthew's head. The boy giggled, and his hair fluffed. Once the shirt was off, the little boy stood in the bare. France removed his clothing as well, and got into the basin. He leaned over the bath, and grabbed the child up and placed him into the water. Happily splashing, France applied some shampoo to Canada's hair, and scrubbed it gently.
"Papa…noooo…Papa, I don't, ughhh….you'll get soap in my eyes." The boy was moving around, and this caused France to hold him tighter.
"Mathieu, sit still…I 'aven't got all morning, you need to 'ave your 'air washed so it could be silky smooth like mine." He proceeded to scrub the child's head, and Matthew just whined and accepted this.
Bath time was usually handled by the maids, so France did not spend a lot of time washing the boy, he just assumed the shampoo on the child's hair would do the trick. Rinsing the boy's hair. France then took the child, lifted him out of the water, and wrapped him in a towel, then getting a towel for himself, he held out a hand.
"Come mon petit…we have a lot to do today." He looked down. Canada grabbed the man's hand, and the two walked out of the room. Arriving at the servants bells in his room, France chimed them.
Within moments, Ezme walked into the room and stood by waiting. France looked up, and then smiled.
"Ezme…please dress my Matthew and have him ready for breakfast, I need to go get dressed and then get some things done in my office. Once he is downstairs, please let me know." He went to walk away, and looked back at the little one standing there in his towel. "Be good for Ezme little one, and I will see you in a bit." He walked away and headed down to his room.
"Okay little one…let's get you dressed and then we need to get you some breakfast." She knelt down drying him off more, and the little boy had a pouty look upon his face. He put his finger to his mouth, and bit it a little. Ezme looked up at him and frowned. "Little Maitre' why the sad face? You should not have such a wee sad face like that."
Matthew tried to speak out, but he was getting awfully upset. He had wanted his father to be with him all morning and the child believed this was not fair.
"Ezme…I want Papa to dress me…and…and he is never around. I only got to see him a little bit this morning, and well…"
"Shhh…its okay little one. Let me just get you dressed and then we will go downstairs. Your Papa is making an effort of being around for you more. This I promise you."