sorry for the long ass update; it being christmas and all :)
I have put translations to France's dialogue beside the original for non french speakers
Also given the 3 year age gap between France and England; because Scotland and England are both 14 this would make France 17
Fluff and humor
please review, follow and favourite
Darkpheonix666
Scotland rushed into the garden quickly; England had promised to take her out to the woods for a picnic and exploring. Just in case she had brought her sword and a dagger in her boot. You never know what kind of dangers could be lurking or what kind of people you would meet; thieves, soldiers, wild animals etc.
Because it would involve climbing today she was wearing brown trousers, black knee length boots and a white blouse. Her long hair was tied into a French braid which ended at her shoulder; tied with a blue ribbon.
"A hope A'm nae late" Scotland worried anxiously. She had asked the maids for her own picnic too after hearing England was pretty bad at cooking. She knew it was mean but she would rather be safe then end up with a stomach ache. Plus, she doubted England could say no to homemade blackberry pie.
Eventually she reached the end of her garden where the gates were. It was two giant stone pillars and a brass gate that was locked and bolted. Over time she had become good at climbing over. As a child the servants would often scold her for getting into mischief and not acting like a lady; now they just affectionately teased her.
She clenched her fists tightly and strung the basket on her shoulder. It was sealed tightly so there was no chance of anything falling out at any point. Scotland then began climbing the gate quietly the gentle breeze blowing her hair. It was a little cold due to the fact they were in early spring; but the temperature was mild and tolerable.
She continued climbing up until she reached the top of the gate. She then jumped off the edge and landed on her feet; good thing all her training had made her nimble on her feet. It helped for quick escapes and perfect landings without so much as a scratch; kind of useful in her opinion.
"Mon Dieu! Un ange dechu!" (Oh my; a fallen angel) a surprised voice cried out suddenly. From what Scotland, could understand the language was in French. She turned around to see where the voice had come from.
A young man in a traditional French blue gown with shoulder length waves stood by her gate. Despite his appearance to that of a woman; he was rather appealing to the eye. However she found it highly amusing that he looked far more like a woman that she did; and he was quite obviously a male by his tone of voice.
While Scotland was touched by his compliment of her looks; she was by no means an angel. She was a fiery country who was by no means a pushover and capable of standing up for herself. "A'm nae an angel" Scotland retorted sternly. She was a strong warrior and a future nation; not some pretty damsel in distress.
The blonde male smirked in amusement "L'ange est ardante" (the angel is fiery) he chuckled playfully. He had never seen a woman with such beautiful red hair or stunning green eyes. If only he could make her his; but alas it seemed she had no interest in him and was off to meet her own partner.
Scotland straightened up her green eyes fiery with rage. She was sick of being called that; why couldn't he just call her something else? As far as she knew this guy was the nation of France; a strong and powerful country but also known for being openly affectionate and flirty with both nations. I mean he was the country of love after all.
"Canna ye caa me something else?" Scotland grumbled in annoyance. As good looking as he was; it didn't feel right hearing it from anyone else but England. It felt wrong; as if she was cheating on him despite them not even being married yet.
France raised his eyebrow curiously at her reaction; he had never met a girl who didn't enjoy being complimented by him before. Could it be she did not think herself beautiful? He dread as such a thought; for she was nothing but such a thing in his eyes.
Scotland frowned but ignored him; she didn't have time for this she had to meet England. He would be wondering where she had gotten to; given she had quite a ways to go. She felt like shit that she had made him wait long enough as it was by having to sneak out of the house away from her drunken father.
"Ou se trove l'ange aller?" (where is the angel going?) France asked curiously watching her go. She seemed to be in a hurry for some reason. What was she carrying in that basket? Why was she carrying weapons? Where on earth was she going? Why was she sneaking out?
"Awa from you" Scotland huffed crossly. Why couldn't he just go away and find someone else to bother? She had a busy schedule and didn't want to leave England waiting. She only hoped he would not be upset at her; she knew anyone who was left waiting for an extended amount of time would become irritable.
France stood there in surprise watching the redhead storm off. She certainly was a fiery one; and from what he could tell of the basket she was holding she was off to meet someone. "Peut-etre que je devrais suivre L'ange" (Maybe I should follow the angel) France hummed thoughtfully.
It's not like he had anything else to do and he was curious as to where she was going. Quietly he began to follow the tomboyish redhead but made sure to keep his distance as to not annoy her again. After all, with that temper he could tell she was serious; and her families reputation only added to it.
Later
"Isla, you made it!" England cried happily. He knew the distance to get here had been long but he was aware she knew the woods well. So, there was no worry that she would get lost at all. She obviously knew these woods well; I mean they did belong to her family after all she had probably taken training to hunt in them.
Scotland blushed at his concern for her; now that they were openly a couple she didn't have to hide. However, she wasn't so confident as to hold hands or kiss in public yet. It would take some time before she gained enough courage to show public displays of affection towards England without feeling pressured or awkward.
"A brocht extra" Scotland retorted lifting up the basket she was carrying. She had a heated pot full of stew and some fresh bread; luckily, she had kept it heated up in the oven all morning so it would stay warm for longer.
England opened the basket curiously and the smell of beef stew and dumplings filled his nostrils. His stomach growled in appreciation of her cooking; he really had chosen a good woman. Every little surprise he learned about her only made his feelings for her grow stronger with every passing second that came.
"It's smells divine; certainly, better than what I have" he admitted awkwardly. He had brought homemade dandelion and burdock with homemade scones with jam and cream. They were traditional English snacks and he only hoped they would suit her fancy; otherwise he would feel very embarrassed about it.
Scotland's cheeks heated at his compliment "A made pie tae" she explained shyly. She really hoped he liked blackberry. Sadly she didn't have any cream or custard; so they would be eating it in slices with their hands.
England was stunned; she had really gone all out for this. Nobody had ever put so much effort into a meeting before; this would surely be a memorable first date. He sniffed its sweet aroma curiously his eyes widened in delight "Blackberry?" he said pleasantly. How did she know his favourite filling of pie?
"It's ma favourite" Scotland confessed shyly. She just really hoped he felt the same; considering it was one of his national fruits it would be weird if he didn't. Sadly a lot of people favoured apple over blackberry which annoyed her a great deal.
England blinked then chuckled; they really were perfect for each other "I guess that makes two of us" he laughed awkwardly. He had never really met another person who liked it; causing him to feel like an oddball.
Scotland felt a wave of relief flow through her; she had done well to research into possible foods he may like. She had thrown a curveball by making blackberry pie but it had worked out in the end.
"So? Faur we gaen?" she asked curiously. Surely, he had some idea or he wouldn't have asked her out like this; otherwise she would have to sock him one. She was not too keen on the idea of meeting up only to get lost in the middle of nowhere.
England smiled and took her free hand that wasn't holding the basket. He then led her along a pathway to a secret hideout he knew of; one that only his fiancé would see. Not even France one of closest allies knew of this place; which is something he took great pride in. That he still had secrets despite others knowing a great deal about him.+
Scotland felt her heart race at his gesture but said nothing; I mean she had kissed him but even that had been scary for her. She was bold but only when her courage allowed her to be.
She could be shy and awkward just like anyone else; she just never usually showed it as people would make fun of her otherwise. The fact that a girl who was usually stubborn, hot tempered and strong could be shy and awkward.
Meanwhile
"Je vois; donc l'ange appartient a la l'angleterre" (I see, so the angel belongs to England) France chuckled to himself in amusement. He had done right to follow; as it had answered some questions England had been avoiding for a while. He knew the younger nation had been hiding his fiancé for some time.
He had heard it was to unite their countries but admitted he was a little afraid of her because of her reputation. But it seemed she was the perfect match for the blonde nation after all. She was stubborn, strong willed and obviously trusted and cared for the blonde country a great deal; in return she brought out his protective side and gave him something to fight for.
As England's big brother he had to make sure that the younger male got a woman who was not only worthy of him; but was his equal and soulmate. I mean he was the country of love after all. Making sure two people were compatible and made for each other was something he took very seriously; plus he didn't want someone undeserving to marry England.
However, he was already somewhat convinced England had made a good choice; she was not only stunning to the eye and fiery. But she had great cooking skills and was obviously shy; which was adorable. But more than anything he was interested to see what the girl had cooked and how she would handle England's terrible cooking.
Quietly the young Frenchman followed the two lovers deeper into the woods. He wasn't spying after all; he was being a good big brother and making sure they were suited for one another.
Deeper in woods
England placed the basket down and stretched; they had reached a woodland opening with a large pond covered in water lilies and wild flowers. He came here all the time to speak to the fairies and skip rocks. It calmed his soul and made him feel better when he was conflicted or sad; so, he thought Isla may appreciate it.
Scotland stood where she was quietly her green eyes gleaming with wonder. This place was beautiful and there were fairies dancing on the water; she had never seen anything so beautiful before.
"England…" Scotland whispered quietly. He never seemed to fail with the surprises; not that she hated that of course, in fact it was the complete opposite. She never knew what to expect with him; but that excited her never knowing what would happen when they were together.
England smiled at her warmly "I thought you of all people would appreciate a place like this" he said softly. She could see fairies and mythical beasts just like him; one of the few who was given the 3rd eye to see things hidden to normal people.
Scotland remained silent but nodded to confirm his question. She was so shocked she was lost for words. It was like something out of a fairy tale that her mother used to read to her when she was a child.
Meanwhile hidden behind a tree France was laughing quietly and smirking from ear to ear. It seemed as much as he denied liking him; England had taken a few notes out of his book on impressing a woman.
"Angleterre est apprendre" (England is learning) France teased playfully. He would have to to rip England for his romantic gesture when it was just the two of them; but for now he would let them have this.
