Good morning, good afternoon or whatever time you will read this.
It might be one of my first english written fanfiction at all, so bear with my poor english.

Pairing: Scotland x France

Rating: T … might turn into M later, I don't know yet.

Genre: Historical.
As I imagine how it all went down. I might miss events, but that's a minor loss in my opinion.

Disclaimer: France and Scotland belong to Europe, Francis Bonnefoy belongs to Himaruya and Whateverhisnameis (Scotland) belongs to a user in pixiv. I'll just name him in this story.. you will get to know early enough P:

A boring evening of the cold december, a child stands on the window. Beyond the window, the snow masses were tosses and whirled around by the wind like crazy. The blonde and not-so-young child stared in amazement at the natural event, though it had seen such things a dozen times. But at this time, something was going to happen for sure. This snow storm might as well destroy the scottish castle they all were in. Someone will die this night, so the child, a boy by the optic age of 4, thought. Call it pessimism, that child was still utterly bored, but waited for something to happen.. and the snow might bring it.
Back in the pre-medieval time, snowstorms were a much more serious thing. In the 21st century, you could grab a book or turn on tv. If the tv didn't work you could try and entertain yourself with some DvD. The people back there didn't know such things. There was hardly any music or instruments. Or books.
"Whit urr ye goupin' at?", an annoyed tone demanded.
The child turned it's head and stared back "Quoi?"(What?)
The boy looked up at an older boy, with wild red hair and piercing green eyes. When one would look at the redhaired boy, one would immediately think of a fox who is either amused by a sly thought or angry with trouble.
The blonde however didn't understand the older one, since he'd been only a guest in this castle. He came all the way from France to visit Scotland with his king. The blonde boy was France, one of those children that were destinied to represent a nation and thus also help with international affairs, such as wars and alliances and something in between. France wasn't stupid. He had learned latin from his father, thus knew a bit of italian, spoke mainly french and just had started to learn german. It was not only necessary to be able to talk to the neighbourhood regions and nations, but also something to waste time – of which nations had a lot of. They aged more slowly than ordinary human beings. With roughly 300 years, France still had the appearance of a small child, the appearance of an angel with light blue eyes and blonde hair that framed his face in soft curls.

"Whit urr ye goupin' at?", the older boy repeated, obviously annoyed that the guest at his home didn't seem to understand him. Also, he was bored in this evening, so he had decided to entertain himself with this little boy. The older boy represented Scotland, but also had other names, such as Alba and Caledonia. This came due to that various tribes had settled in Scotland, some coming from the areas of which scotland's siblings had 'settled', Ireland and Wales. England wasn't formed back at this time. Scotland was an old land, with many traditions. Being so far in the north sure brought it's hardships. Soon, the redhaired boy had to learn how to fight and ride a horse. There was no time for childhood.
"Je ne comprends pas. (I don't understand you)", the blonde replied helplessly.

"…come wi' me.", Scotland demanded and already turned to go. Seeing that the younger nation didn't follow, he stepped back, and offered his hand – with a much more annoyed look on his face.
France first frowned, then took the cool hand and walked with Scotland through the corridors and rooms of the castle. Almost everywhere you could feel the chilly nordic wind through the walls and doorframes. Here and there, Scotland said something to the boy, explaining something or telling a little story over an object.. something that had happened earlier at this or that place. The little french boy hardly understood something, but grinned and eventually laughed because of the funny scottish language. At least the blonde boy found it funny. And the more Alba made a strained look, the more France laughed.

Finally they had reached the kitchen. A fire was on the hearth, but no one else in the room appearantly. Alba took an apple from a bowel and gave it to France.
"Mmh… c'est un pomme. (this is an apple)", France explained.
"Whit?"
"Pomme.", France pointed determined to the apple.
"A…apple. .. Pomme?", Alba frowned. Was that the word for it? It had to be.
France repeated the scottish word and laughed.
Alba got an idea and picked up an onion that was lying around. "Onion.", he proudly exclaimed.
"Oignon.", France replied. The word was almost the same!
The two boys continued picking up items of food or to prepared the food and compared the words they had for it. It was a sheer joy, yet something so simple!
They stopped their game only because they got really hungry. They had found some left-overs and helped themselves. France talked to Scotland during their meal. And even though Scotland might have not understood a word, he made an important face.. which somehow gave them all a meaning. France suddenly had an idea.
The blonde picked up a stick which was blackened by the fire that was on the hearth. He wrote french words on the ground before the fire just so that they were visible. France had picked the most easy words, and also those that were of most use like 'Bonjour'(good day), 'Au revoir' (goodbye), 'merci' (thank you) and a lot of other. Also question-words. He didn't know how to ask Scotland for to write down or at least say the scottish counterpart but eventually the green eyes lit up in understandment and the redhaired helped the younger boy a bit into his language. They repeated the words they had learned.
No one knows how many hours they had spent sitting before the fire until a servant came and ordered them to go to bed. Since Alba found that France was too little to sleep alone in the guest room, he simply took him to his own room in the castle. They still spend a long time chatting and exchanging words, before they finally closed their eyes and dozed away.

Liked my short fanfiction? ..eh, it's still.. I used a few words too much I guess.
But if you liked it, I might as well write more parts.. on how they grew up together, more or less.