FRENCH FILE NO. 2:

Portugal

A young man with a long curly hair usually held in a ponytail. Has a black mole on his right cheek. A former empire, so he shouldn't be taken too lightly.

He's my next target. I'm going to try to persuade him to turn against his old friend England. If this turns out to be impossible, I think I need to capture him. If he agrees… well, I think I need to capture him anyway.

... ... ... ...

Fall, 1807

"So, you want me to turn my back on England?"

"That's right." France says and sips his drink. Portugal's voice sounds tense and he's walking in circles.

France had appeared to his door all of sudden and invited himself in just because he needed to talk with Portugal about something. He would have pretended he isn't home if he would have known the subject. But that's probably why France didn't announce his arrival in advance.

The day had started so well. The weather was so great and the breakfast had been delicious - toast with butter and coffee with a lot of milk. He should have known it was a bit too perfect to continue like that.

"You want me to abandon my long-standing friend" Portugal raises his voice a little, and snaps his fingers in front of France to make his point more clear "Just like that? You are not that charming."

"Good that we understand each other so well!" France teases. This has continued for a while now, as the Iberian nation rages in fury but tries to stay polite to his guest only because of the sake of his neutrality.

"By the way, it's funny to think that the old caterpillar eyebrow has some real friends. I have always thought him as a solitary soul…"

"He helps me in need and I help him. Do you have any friends like that? Poland? Oh, that's right, he's your vassal. You liberated him and he would do anything for you, and you surely use that in your advantage. Spain? My brother helps you only when it's useful to him. I could tell you pretty nasty things about him, you would be surprised." Portugal ends his sentence with a nasty grin.

This discussion is going to the wrong direction, France thoughts. He always forgets that even if Spain and Portugal look very much alike, the former usually seems to be full of happiness and certain fake indifference – except when he loses it, then you should run for the hills -, but Portugal, he's more snarky and a little bit more serious. And he certainly knows how to hurt someone with words.

And he's not even that wrong. It's never only about them, what their bosses want affects also. England and Portugal should be glad that their interests have never clashed and that they are still able to be friends.

"Look, I'm sure I can't make you to understand my point of view…" France starts.

"That's good because you're asking too much."

"But there will be a war if you don't comply." France continues with a steady voice.

France sees Portugal startle a bit. "Should I remind you that I'm a neutral country?" Portugal asks as he tries to pull himself back together. You should never show your insecurity to a possible enemy, he reminds himself.

"No, you aren't if you are helping England." France states.

"I'm only trading with him! I'm not taking part to the war."

"But you just said you are his friend. Are you just going to watch when your friend loses the war? I don't think so. So, I'm afraid that you are in my way."

"I see." Portugal massages his forehead with his right hand and then slumps to the nearest chair. What a mess and he sees no way out of it. "I assume you are going to attack then?"

"I think I will give you some more time to think, I don't want you to think I'm being unreasonable. All you need to do is to cut your relations with England and you can live in peace." At least a little bit longer, France reminds himself as he gets up from the chair and places his glass to the nearest table.

"Thank you for the drink; you're a good host even to surprise guests."

Portugal mumbles something in response –probably in Portuguese - which France decides to ignore because it didn't sound very "neutral". As he's about to leave, Portugal stops him with a question.

"What about Spain?"

"What about him?" France asks.

"Is he with you? In the case if… I don't comply with your demand?" Portugal turns to look straight at France. Portugal's relations with Spain were complicated. He had once lived with Spain, it was supposed to be an union, but he had felt himself more like a prisoner than a roommate. He didn't want to experience it again.

"Hm, what do you think? I'm sure you know your brother well enough."

"So he really is going to attack." Portugal laughs dryly "I swear, one day I will publish a book about all the embarrassing things he has ever done… He will never recover from that…"

France shrugs and leaves Portugal to think his choices, even if he's almost sure that war is inevitable. Portugal is too stubborn and too loyal to his friend to understand his own best.

France gets his horse from the stable and then rides away from Portugal's place. After a while another rider joins him.

"What did he say?" a man with a short curly hair asks, smirking.

"I didn't know you are so curious, Spain. I was coming to tell you, we are allies despite our recent disputes."

"Oh, those disputes… I was a bit upset that I lost my fleet when we were fighting the British bros and that I needed to stop the trade with them, but that's all in the past now." Spain chuckles "But anyway, I'm sure Portugal said no. I know him well enough. Well, not well enough to counter blackmail him with embarrassing things, but quite well anyway."

"He's going to consider the matter" France says, knowing he stretched the truth a little bit "But we need to prepare for war nevertheless."

"You still want to position your troops to my place? So we could attack him? You know I don't like the idea of foreign troops on my soil, even if they are yours." Spain mutters.

"They are harmless; you have nothing to worry about." France answers, knowing he stretched the truth once again.