Epilogue - What's in A Name?

"Bonjour petit lapin~! I found you! You are so verrry cute 'iding under zat bush!"

"What? You?! What are you doing here?"

"I came all ze way 'ere to be friends widz you of course! I am ze beautiful France~! But since we're friends now, you may call me Fr—"

"I don't want to be friends with you, frog! Go away!"

"Ehhh? But why not? Am I not fabulous enough to be your friend?"

"Well, no, but… I- I am told… Nations can't be friends…"

"Pfft… Hahahaha!"

"Whut?!"

"What complete and utter pony manure! Ohohon! You are too gullible petit lapin! Très mignon~!"

"B- But—!"

"C'mon, come out from un'zzer zere and give me your 'and!"

"Hey, what're you doing?! Unhand me!"

"Zere! Now zat we've shaken 'ands, we're officially friends! Oh~ I know I'm bigger and smarter zan you, but you don't 'ave to be afraid of your gorgeous grand frère~!"

"Who would be afraid of a foppish twit like you, you foppish twit!"

"Now, now, be nice and put down zat arrow! Ze proper way to greet someone for ze first time is to tell zem your name and say: 'Bonjour! 'Ow do you do?' Let's start over, oui? –Wait, keep ze arrow, yes? Good. So…

"What is your name?"

"…Fine! I… I am E- England."

"Non, non! Zatiss what you are. I meant your name, your real name as you."

"My real name…? Isn't England my real name?"

"See, my real name is Francis, Francis Bonnefoy."

"Francis…? What a foppish-sounding name…"

"Gah! It is not! You are so boorish! You should compliment me and say it is a lovely human name –because it is. And yours? I suppose your name is lovely too, oui?"

"I… I don't know… I don't…"

"You don't what…?"

"…I don't… need a real name!"

"Of course you do."

"I don't."

"You don'tz 'ave a name."

"…"

"I shall give you one then!"

"I said, I don't need it!"

"Whatzever! From now on, your name shall be—"

-x-

Many millennia later, the archetype from which inspired countless stories of enemies falling in love will become the most romantic and timeless love story of all. One that has never since gone out of fashion.

Two star-crossed lovers, who died for each other, against all odds, for the sake of love to prevail? It is, in fact, the story of two human Nations...

Their story.

The End.

Notes:

Though I have a queen there, and some battles going on, I didn't imagine any corresponding historical timeline or event, but I think I'd place it give or take around the Hundred Years War, when England kept coveting parts of France and vice-versa, so basically that's the allegorical premise. And though I kept imagining Queen Elizabeth I (who was a fashion icon), I honestly did not have any specific queen pegged when I was writing this. One thing is for sure, whoever she is, she a Francophile. (This originally had a much, much darker plot, I shied away from it at the final edits, pitying England... XI Haha, I've gone soft.)

x- France's beauty was stunning, more so in his youth (with his filigree tunic sans the very macho facial and bodily hair) and was often mistaken for a girl. This is a personal headcanon I'd like to put behind the sentimental title "La Belle France". (Incidentally one of my favourite doujinshikas Love Potion No.9 also hinted at a similar idea in one of her omake comics). Also despite England's dissuasion that she was a 'he', the queen remains stubborn and chooses to believe France is a 'she'.

x- In their second meeting, England is disappointed to learn that the pretty and odd girl beyond the Channel was, in fact, a 'he'. Very disappointed. Not relevant to my story, I just wanted to justify why he was so grumpy to France ever since. Haha.

x- Part of my England-uke kink is a penchant for cross-dressing him. And I gave in to one of those, which was putting him in a magnificent dress and corset, which to me, are actual instruments of torture— as all things of perpetrating artificial-superficial beauty tend to be.

Can you imagine a very young, pretty feminine looking France laughing, 'ohohon'? I just cannot get over how cute it is!

Cheers & Happy New Year, lovelies!

(12/27/2012 - 01/03/2015)

X-posted: LM_Artless {AO3} / frukdilection {dA}

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