Look! A wild, non-RP inspired fanfiction! Catch it, catch it quickly!

Inspiration for this came from a conversation I had with an England RPer about rabbits. Apparently, according to popular belief, rabbits are not native to England. The species may have been introduced by the Normans (French conquerors). After hearing that- I couldn't help but write baby nations and bunnies~

Warnings: Hazardous levels of extreme adorableness. Pre-FrUk if you tilt your head to the side and really squint hard, but it could also be taken as pure GEN.

So without further ado...

Mon Lapin

France stepped onto the rocky shores of the island, this strange, wild place… the land of the Angles. Albion, Britannia—he had heard it called differently, but places didn't change just because their names did.

France himself was a perfect example of that. Just a few centuries ago he'd been nothing more than Gallia: the little Roman territory, the band of wild tribes…

But not now! Now he was France. He was the Kingdom of France, and the little nation preened just at the thought of the title—now he was important. And since he was important, he could do things like visit the strange little boy who lived across the great sea.

France smiled to himself as he considered the boy. He was so clever, and so very, very cute…but also quite shy, and he had such a temper. The language difference between them was also a point of contention—the boy needed to just give in and learn French already, his own language made no sense and didn't have words for lots of important things in the world

The other child…he was so strange sometimes. France would go to the meadow where they had played before and then the bushes would rustle. A head of wild blond hair would peak out, twigs and leaves decorating those choppy bangs. Green eyes, as deep as the forest they had emerged from, would glare out at him, and a few times he'd had a small but very sharp arrow aimed at his nose. Francis shivered a bit at the thought of those arrows—he knew the boy was very, very good with them. Fortunately, he'd never been shot at, and he intended it to stay that way.

Often the child would actually approach, come and sit beside him, poke at him with stubby baby fingers and question him in a harsh, grating tongue. They played sometimes; France liked to weave daisy chains, crowning them both in flower wreathes. Sometimes the boy would lead him into the forest. They would go mushroom hunting, or chase after the tiny colored lights that always seemed to make the child so excited. He talked to them, chattering excitedly under the shade of ancient oak trees in the verdant forest.

France would watch the fascinating scene—he always watched everything about his little friend. Through many visits, he would carefully observe the way his friend would splutter so fiercely when offended, even though his cheeks were turning an adorable shade of rose pink, the way his nose wrinkled up and twitched when he was confused or happy, the way his eyes would shine with content when he was in the forest… and how skittish and willing to dart back into the bushes he was every single time they first saw each other.

They boy reminded him of the small rabbits that the ladies in his home were so fond of playing with (the ones that didn't go to the cook anyway). He didn't think about those rabbits, instead choosing to remember the tiny balls of fluff that were so fun to pet and play with…that wrinkled their little noses just the same as his small friend did. To his knowledge, the other boy didn't have rabbits. He had…similar creatures with longer legs and ears, wiry things that he would later come to know as hares. But the island boy had no rabbits…which struck Francis as a shame. He knew the little one liked small, cute things, and he had a feeling he would adore a real rabbit.

That was the reason France had made this trip. In his arms he carried a basket containing a beautiful female rabbit that he had carefully tended to on the passage over, intent on giving her to his friend as a gift and playmate. He hoped the boy would like it—and was almost completely certain he would. The rabbit ought to be able to thrive in the lush woodlands of the other nation's territory, since there were similar plants it could eat for food.

The small immortal straightened out the hem of his new tunic, spinning lightly. He hoped the child might like it…maybe the bright colors and soft fabric would lure him out of his trees and bushes long enough that France could convince him to stay and play with him for a while… and perhaps accept his gift.

He looked around the meadow, calling out softly in his own tongue for the boy, waiting patiently. He knew he'd been heard, and now it was just a matter of patience.

Soon enough though, sparking emerald eyes peeked out from behind a tree trunk, watching the other silently. It appeared France would be spared the bow and arrows today, which was a very good sign.

The older nation smiled brightly as he saw his small friend hesitantly approach. He knelt in the grass, opening the basket to remove a squirming bunny. He cradled her gently in his arms, kissing the top of her fluffy head and gently petting her, hoping that the other boy would approach due to curiosity and see that the animal wasn't a threat.

He knew his plan had succeeded when the cloaked child plopped down in front of him, his face as imperious as ever, though he couldn't hide the interest sparking in his gaze. France smiled at him, shifting his arms to make the bunny seen.

"Hello, little one. I brought you a friend~. I promise she won't hurt you."

He gently offered the rabbit to the child, tucking his arms around her squirming fluffy body. He took the boy's hand, showing him how to gently pet her as he continued speaking in a soft voice.

"She won't bite if you're gentle with her…like with your own friends."

He smiled lightly, before subtly trying to give the other a miniature lesson.

"This is a rabbit, see? A rabbit."

The older boy sounded the words out in French slowly, his tongue gracefully forming the syllables. The smaller blond wrinkled his nose, before forcing out a mimicry that was even slower.

"Un L-ap-in."

He murmured the word under his breath, the sounds unfamiliar to him. Well, perhaps the "un" was a bit drawn out at the end, and the "in" was a bit too short, but it sounded almost right, and France was sure with some more careful teaching he could fix the boy's pronunciation.

The small blond boy smiled softly, figuring that was simply the creature's name, not paying attention to the foreign language much. He grinned excitedly, burying his own face into the animal's soft fur as he nuzzled her in his arms.

"Yes, that's very good- a rabbit to be a friend just for you. She is yours now, okay?"

France spoke just as softly, still smiling. The boy was gentle—he'd known he would be. His little friend had a way with animals and plants, and he seemed to be already in love with the fuzzy rabbit. The smaller nation's eyes were lit with adoration and intrigue as he played with the sweet-tempered creature. France sat back in the soft grass, pleased with himself. Perhaps this gift would finally soothe the savage wildling's temper towards him…though he wasn't yet willing to try touching the boy. He'd attempted it once, and now was much warier of attempting physical contact.

Suddenly, France's thoughts were cut short as a pair of tiny but strong arms wrapped around his waist. The rabbit sat on the grass nearby….and the boy…the boy was hugging him tightly around his middle, his face hidden in the other boy's chest as he murmured something unintelligible in his own language.

France looked down in shock, before smiling warmly and gently patting the boy's back. As soon as he touched him, the finicky child was already pulling away, his cheeks scarlet as he straightened out his cloak. He was still speaking, half spluttering as he scolded the older boy, dusting himself off and moving out of hugging range as he gathered the bunny up in his arms once more.

The two young nations spent the rest of the day playing together, laughing as they took turns petting the rabbit. Words were spoken here and there in both languages, but for the most part the only noises heard were innocent giggles and soft coos to the bunny. The island nation was once again graced with a daisy chain, as was the rabbit.

Unfortunately, the sun was fast sinking in the sky. France sighed, knowing it was time for him to go. He stood up, murmuring a quiet farewell to the boy. He began walking off back towards the shore, only to have a small hand tug at his tunic. The shorter boy stood behind him, looking confused as he held the bunny in his free arm, offering it back to France. The older nation smiled and shook his head. He knelt in front of the boy, wrapping both the other's arms around the bunny.

"No, little one. She is yours…she's going to stay with you, okay?" He repeated himself a few times, pointing to the rabbit and then the ground, and then the young nation and the ground, and them to himself and the shores.

The younger boy was sharp, catching on quickly. He stared up at the other for a long moment, before giving a solemn little nod and holding the rabbit closer to himself. Francis smiled softly, wistfully, straightening up and turning around again to leave.

"Au revoir, Angleterre…" He murmured softly as he walked off.

He'd only taken a few steps away when he heard a soft voice speak.

"Fare thee well, France"

The French nation smiled brightly, but didn't turn, walking back to the crashing sea waves, to begin the long journey back to his home, already planning his next visit to his little rabbit…and perhaps he'd get to see the bunny again too.

Little Cuties!

Stay tuned for a bonus chapter/omake in a few days.

Thanks for reading~