A/N: I hope none of you believed that Arthur and Francis would be best friends after just one chapter? If so, here is the hint. This is England and France we are talking about.

Another important note: "French spoken lines are written like this."

Chapter 2

The Lake

Summer approached with a gush of warm air and Arthur, who wasn't too happy about the southern heat, took that as his cue to stay indoors and ignore anything French or warm. To his grave annoyance Francis took the promise of the summer holiday as an excuse to turn up outside the door once every morning. Equally, Arthur had his own excuse not to turn up. His mother had given him a second book of the Winnie the Pooh series and he was far more interested in the magic of the Seven Acre Woods than to play with anyone French.

He knew they were already twisting him into becoming more and more French by the day. Despite his best efforts, he understood more of what Madame Bonnerose explained to him during school lessons. She didn't need to translate everything for him as his French had reached a high enough level to hear the difference between madame and mademoiselle. It was the same as the English Mrs or Miss. A few weeks had changed a lot around him, but he still saw the British to be superior to the French. Though if you'd ask, he'd never be able to give you a very long or logical explanation. It just was.

But childish plans rarely succeed for a very long time. One Wednesday afternoon, when his mother left to visit one of her friends in the village, Arthur was outside by the wall staring at the huge apple-trees one of his neighbours owned in envy. He could hear his brother leave the house as the door slammed shut, and the twins were with their mother. Within the hour he soon found that Allistor had locked him out.

Arthur spent several minutes angrily kicking and glaring at the door before he heard a familiar ding.

"Arthur? I see the rabbit has left the house." Francis spoke in French. The French boy had ridden his bike to the front of the lawn. Francis happily jumped of his bike and tried to greet him warmly, but Arthur dodged his attempts.

"Allistor locked me out." Arthur growled and his ears turned slightly red. He still spoke in English, but Francis seemed to understand it. Francis seemed untouched by his snarls and quite determined the French boy reached out for him and smiled as he took Arthur by the hand. He then lead him away to the bike and patted the back. As Arthur considered his options, namely to wait for Allistor to hopefully return which was quite unlikely to be anytime soon- With a deep sigh he hoped that this was at least going to be somewhat more interesting than staring at apples all day.

The ride to the village market was short, but still as wobbly as many roads tend to be when they have not been grazed by asphalt. Arthur was forced to hold on firmly to Francis back to not fall off, and he could swear the young Frenchman was trying to kill him.

"Tell me why we're going to the market, you frog!"

Francis laughed.

"Because, I want you to meet my friends." Francis answered and Arthur could hear the laughter in his voice. He opted for a while to simply jump off the bike and head back, but Francis sped up and any fall would surely leave bruises.

Arthur was more than happy when they reached the market, and he was allowed to hop off. He was about to ask who these friends of Francis were, when a squeal met him.

"Oh, Francis. He is adorable!" a female voice squealed in French.

Arthur looked toward the direction of the voice to see a girl with braided, brown pigtails and round glasses run up to them. She seemed to be around Francis age. Close behind her came two other girls, one strawberry blond with freckles and the other another brunette with a very pointy nose. All three girls gazed interestingly at Arthur, who felt his old shyness return. They were quite the opposite of the scarecrows he would have liked to imagine.

"Julie, Delphine, Marie, bonjour!" Francis said with a wide smile. "Yes, this is Arthur." Francis said and poked him, making Arthur squirm. The young boy retaliated with a glare. Francis shook his head. "Arthur, this is Julie" he pointed towards the first girl, "Delphine" he pointed at the strawberry-blond "and Marie" he pointed at the second brunette.

"He is adorable, almost like a little woodland creature!" Julie squealed excitedly. To Arthur's surprise she spoke in English.

Delphine, the strawberry-blond, gasped and suddenly dove into the bag she carried with her She took out a small green cape.

"Here," she said. "Wear this." she added and tied it around Arthur's neck. Arthur touched the soft material. It seemed to be made of something soft and he liked it. The third girl took out a slightly bigger cape in royal blue. With reddened cheeks she gave it to Francis who bowed and took it.

"I... I made this in school." Marie said, while her friends giggled non-stop.

They made both twist around in their capes to the point where Arthur started to feel dizzy, but he couldn't deny that he did actually like his present. Green was his favourite colour and it made him think of all those fairytales he had read and just imagined himself to enter. Somehow, he could see both himself, the woodsman, and Francis, the prince he was about to rob, dressed in these gifts. And with a sly smile, the day didn't seem so bad. He, Francis and the girls went straight to one of the village café to spend an surprisingly good afternoon with tea and free éclairs.

-000-

The days passed on slowly. June turned to mid July and no matter what Arthur was forced to gradually get used to his new French friend. He didn't have much of a choice as Francis would turn up by the door every day.

As many other days, Arthur once more gazed out his window deep in thought. He leaned his elbows at his desk. He had many things to think about; Francis, who always seemed to know how to whisk him away on some small adventure, his brother whom he still really disliked, living in France and slowly getting used to it or... those apples.

For the last few days Arthur had been glaring over the wall. One of the neighbours had huge apple trees, and Arthur swore those apples would soon be better than anyone else's. Arthur loved apples, but his home in England had no larger garden so his mother had never been able to grow any. He couldn't wait until the apples would ripen and he'd be able to pester her about baking apple cakes.

"I wonder if they are sweeter than the ones grandma used to bake with?" he asked and held up one of his stuffed toys in front of him. It was a mint-coloured bunny plush toy.

"They look delicious." the bunny answered.

"I am certain they are." a light blue unicorn said from the top of his bookcase.

"What do you think?" Arthur asked Pooh, his third friend, who lay face down on the floor.

"I don't know. But stealing is wrong. Oh, this is so difficult." Pooh said, not moving. Arthur guessed he was philosophising again.

Arthur contemplated Poohs words for a moment, but he still could see those ripened red apples in front of him. For the moment he decided to ignore Pooh's words.

"I bet Francis knows how to climb into those trees." the unicorn said.

"I am never asking him for help." Arthur objected.

"But he probably knows. He showed us where everything is here." the unicorn explained wisely.

"He is not so bad." Flying Mint Bunny said with a smile, her little green ears flopped expectedly.

"Yes." Pooh agreed.

Arthur shook his head.

"I am never, ever, befriending a frog." he said loudly, loud enough for Allistor to hear and curiously open the door to see his little brother among his plush toys.

"What are ye doin'?"

"Talking... get out!"

"With you'self again? Arthur, ye needs friends. Go out, talk to tha' French boy ye met."

"You're not mum." Arthur objected.

"No, A am ye brother ye twat." Allistor marched up with quick long strides, grabbed him by the arm and dragged him out. Arthur protested loudly and put his heels in the ground. They struggled like this for a moment when the doorbell rang.

Allistor reluctantly let him go and hurried down the stairs to the door. Arthur knew he should have hurried back to barricade the door, but his curiosity got the better of him. He quietly followed his brother.

But from the end of the stairs he could hear his brother talking, and that brought him to an immediate stop.

"Francis, good to see ye. How are ye?"

"I am well... is Arthur 'ere?"

"Yes, he is. Arthur!"

Arthur groaned.

"Francis is here, you will get out and play!" the last was not an order, it was a statement. Arthur knew that if he did not obey, Allistor would make things hell for him. He already once had to save his little Mint Bunny from the scissors.

Arthur slowly walked to the door, and tried his best to drag on as long as possible. He saw Francis curiously looking at the house. He seemed oblivious to Arthur's dislikes and Arthur couldn't help but to wonder what the French boy was thinking. Was he as he'd imagined, looking down upon them from that higher hierarchy that he so often imagined the French to put themselves upon? Or was he impressed, that the British had such refined tastes that it put him out of words?

In any case Francis didn't seem to dwell on either, instead he turned to Allistor with a gentle smile.

"I was wondering, since maman asked me to tell, if Arthur would like to join us by the lake? Me and our amies would like to go for a swim."

Arthur stopped instantly, his mind boggled and he fought for the words, but Allistor spoke first.

"A am sorry Francis, ma mam would kill me. Arthur can't swim." and for once Arthur knew Allistor was serious. Their mother was frightened of the sea, they never went by boat unless she had no other options.

Arthur felt as if he wanted to die from embarrassment. What would Francis think of him? A island born who couldn't swim, all this because Allistor never bothered to teach him. To his great surprise, Francis simply smiled.

"Don't worry, mon cher. I am good at swimming myself. Me and the girls can teach him."

"I see... Arthur, grab ye trunks and go! A have some business to do, get out!" Allistor said clearly and brandished, to Arthur's horror, the very same scissors that had once only been inches away from his precious bunny.

Arthur ran upstairs again, grabbed his bathing-trunks from his wardrobes and simply put it into a plastic grocery bag. Before he left he firmly buried Flying Mint Bunny beneath a pile of shirts. He needed to keep his friend as well away from sight from Allistor as possible.

If he could choose between Francis and the torture his brother loved to place on him every day, he for once decided to chose Francis. Not because the French boy was better, but because he had those scissors in mind. Before he left the room he safely made sure to close the door and lock it, he had a key he had stolen from his mother's underwear drawer. Before he left the house he made sure not forget the green cape that had quickly become his favourite.

Francis had, as he often did, arrived on his bike. Arthur saw that he too had brought the royal blue cape that Marie had made for him.

The lake lay close to the village and was a popular area for the children to spend their summers. The village was located too far from sea to go anywhere near a proper beach, so the best place for swimming and other fun activities was that small lake. Arthur's teacher, Mademoiselle Bonnerose, had explained that many, many... he honestly didn't know how many, years ago people settled near the lake. Thinking about it, Arthur couldn't help but to feel like one of these settlers. Completely left out to everything.

So maybe it isn't surprising then that he wasn't too ecstatic about this trip, though it turned out all three of the girls were. The three girls, Julie, Delphine and Marie had already changed into bathing suits and lay on the grass waiting for them, giggling madly when Francis stopped. Arthur would never understand girls and their giggles, it made no sense.

"Mes amies! I 'ave arrived!" Francis said eloquently with a wide gestures to only be met by even more giggles. Arthur didn't know whether he'd gag or simply roll his eyes, but he hated this part of his new friend. However, Francis did not dwell on it. He resembled a young French prince in his blue cape and golden hair, that it seemed to have sparked Julie's imagination, who almost seemed to jump from the grass and hurried to them.

"Do you boys want to play?" she asked excitedly. "We're building a raft, and if we hurry we can sail it soon enough."

Francis face lit up, but Arthur groaned. He knew he'd be left out, as Allistor said, there was no way Arthur's mother would allow him near that thing.

"We'd love to." Francis said, but then his face turned slightly more serious. "Alas, we seem to have a little problem. You see, our dear Arthur... Allistor told me he does not know 'ow to swim yet."

"Oh," Julie said and raised an eyebrow. "Well, that can be fixed." She turned to Arthur. "Arthur, would you like to learn 'ow to swim?"

Arthur was about to say no, he wasn't really that interested in the topic even if it was embarrassing not to be able to swim. But Francis answered for him.

"Our answer is yes, oui?" Francis said and smiled at Arthur. Arthur wanted to say he was certainly not interested in any kind of watery activity, but Julie's face shone with happiness and he couldn't find the words to say no.

Julie ran back to Delphine and Marie and said something in very rapid French. After a few minutes the two girls shrugged and walked off towards some rockier areas of the lake. Julie however took off towards the lake and shouted at Francis to do something, but Arthur didn't understand what. She spoke too fast.

He didn't get it until Francis handed him the plastic bag that contained his bathing trunks and said: "Arthur, we must change."

There was no specific area to change, so they hid among some bushes. He was well aware how awkward it felt, but it shouldn't be. Even if Francis was older they were both boys. He shouldn't feel awkward. He changed quickly and then waited while Francis took time to keep his hair tied back neatly. With his longer hair and slim figure the French boy looked more girly than ever, and Arthur felt quite proud of himself to deduce that out of them two of them, he clearly was the manliest. Despite being so young.

A few minutes later Arthur felt far from manly; he felt scared. The water was cold. It was colder than he expected for such warm day and he started to shiver. Francis had already started to swim to deeper water, but Julie stayed with him. Arthur felt like crying a little, but he kept his tears to himself. He felt slightly like an outsider while Francis gracefully broke through the still surface.

But Julie turned out to be an excellent teacher. She showed Arthur how to kick the water to get speed and how he needed to push the water away from the direction he wanted to go to whilst his head had to remain above the surface. They took it slowly and while he was still far from the graceful swan that Francis was, he at least managed to stay on the surface of the water long enough to not resemble a drowning dog. Julie was pleased and called him her best student so far and Arthur couldn't help but to smile.

Francis also soon joined them and it turned out he was quite the teaser when he felt like it. Despite the efforts he put earlier on his hair he would dive below the surface and do his best to poke Arthur's sides to tickle him. More than once would Arthur experience a wave of water over him, and very soon a war erupted between the two of them.

After an hour of swimming lessons and random moments of splash war all three girls had to leave. Julie explained that they would be heading to Moulins for the week to visit her pépé or grandfather in common English. That left Francis and Arthur alone for a while until Arthur knew his mother would start to worry for him.

As they sat among the rocks, waiting for their bodies to dry in the late afternoon summer heat the talked.

"You see it, Arthur?" Francis asked and pointed at some knotted tree-trunks by the grass. "That is the start of our raft. In a few weeks we 'ope to sail it on the lake. I 'ope you can join us by then." Francis was speaking in English again, and it was clear by the accent he still had to practise more to master it.

"Of course I will." Arthur said with a smirk. "You saw me earlier, I can swim now."

Francis laughed heartily.

"I still think you might need a few more lessons, mon ami." he said and touched Arthur's still damp hair. "Or you might end up very wet."

"So did you."

""Yes, but I dove into the water. You... 'ow do I say it, looked more like a cat in water."

Arthur snorted. "I am no cat, you frog!" he meant it as an insult, but Francis seemed to take it as a metaphor.

"Well, I did master the art of swimming two years ago. I can swim over two 'undred metres on my own."

Arthur flared his nostrils. "You are older than me!"

"C'est vrai."

"I still don't know much about you. It's beyond me why everyone seem to think we are friends."

Francis smile disappeared momentarily, but then he looked away from Arthur to the lake.

"So ask then, mon ami."

"What?"

"Ask me, ask me anything you'd like to know."

Arthur's head turned faster than a horsewhip. At first he thought he had not heard Francis right, secondly he concluded the French boy was simply an idiot. But he was curious, and curiosity sadly was among his stronger traits.

"Have you always lived here?"

"Non, maman says I was born in Paris. Mon père is some sort of diplomat, and 'e works there. But, Paris' air is bad, maman says it made her sick. So, we moved 'ere when I was four."

"So, your dad is still in Paris?"

"I don't know."

Arthur blinked. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"'e's often in Africa, so I don't know."

"Oh..."

"What about your own father, where is 'e?" Francis asked. Arthur scoffed.

"I don't care about that bugger. He walked out on mum when I was two. Then mum went and met that Irish bloke and had the twins, and he too disappeared."

"Your poor mother..."

"Mum's fine. She has to work a lot though. Since we're four."

Arthur pondered for a while.

"So how about you, any siblings at all?"

Francis shook his head. "Non, I am alone. I 'ave a cousin, but 'e lives in Poland."

"You mean that poor place?"

"That is rude!" Francis reprimanded. "Feliks' mother makes clothes, she draws them and someone makes them for 'er."

"Oh, she's a designer." Arthur said as he figured it out. He didn't know much about designers, but he had seen many of his mother's magazines at the house, with the slim girls with make up and fancy dresses.

"Yes, and Feliks says they live in a big 'ouse in Warzaw."

"Bigger than yours?" Arthur asked sceptically.

"Much bigger." Francis said dreamily. "And 'e 'as these amazing paintings and sculptured in 'is 'ome. I am actually a bit jealous of 'im."

Arthur shrugged.

"I am serious." Francis said. "I love art. Maman took me to see Le Louvre once and it was magnifique!"

"Well... I love books." Arthur said, but in the way Francis described his passion for beauty he knew this seemed insignificant somehow.

"I like books too" Francis said with a smile. "But sometimes words cannot explain what a painting or a picture says."

"They do a good job though." Arthur mumbled. Francis snickered.

"Oh, don't feel bad. I did say I like books. But you want to know a secret?"

"What?" Arthur asked, eager to know.

"My dream doesn't involve paintings or any kind of art. One day, when I am a grown-up, I want to make wine."

Arthur blinked. This was the last of his expectations.

"What? What does that mean?"

"I want to make wine. I want to make people 'appy with a good taste."

"You don't even know what wine tastes like. Or 'as your parents ever let you taste it?" Arthur asked, slightly worried for how much older Francis was.

"Non, I 'aven't. But, papa says it tastes amazing, and I believe 'im. What about you, do you 'ave any dreams?"

"Of course."

"Really?"

"Yes, I want to be a pirate."

Francis blinked, then he broke into an amused smile.

"Really? And you thought I was weird."

"I did not. But I want to travel, and then I will write down all my travels into a book. I will go on many adventures and sail the seven seas."

"That sounds like a good plan. Could I, as they say, perhaps get to travel with you one day?"

"Maybe." Arthur said and found to his surprise that he actually meant it.

"Bon... oh, look Arthur. It is getting late and I need to go 'ome. 'ow about we come back 'ere tomorrow, then we can practise swimming again."

Arthur thought for a moment. He truly wanted to best Francis one day and he really wanted to get on that raft as well. He had never been on one. "Fine" he said. He and Francis quickly redressed in their capes and within a few minutes they were once more back on the road.

As the wind swept his face Arthur concluded two things. One, his mother was going to throw a fit about him having swimming lessons. Secondly, he guessed he had to say that Francis may not be as bad as he first thought...

Empathised on 'may'.

TBC

A/N: I have a tumblr connected to the rollercoaster that is known as this story. If you want to find more information, ask questions or generally follow me and my many thoughts and thinkings about what I write, please it out at: sunshineauthorsnotes dot tumblr dot com