Word Count: 407
Pairing: Freanne, one-sided FrUK
Warnings: Character death
Companion to: Betrayal, Forgiveness
Jealousy
It hadn't been entirely out of jealousy. It was true that the young woman was innocent, and clearly a woman of God. But Arthur just couldn't let her live.
She was a threat to his country, at least that was what he tried to convince himself. That was the reason he gave for condemning her. And that was the reason that helped him sleep at night. How else could he explain to Francis that his most valuable soldier was going to die?
But when the day came, Arthur knew that he had made a mistake. He waited near the king, his eyes seeking out a single individual in the crowd of people that had come to witness the death of the heroine of France. The blond head soon appeared at the edge of the crowd, and England left his boss' side to seek out his old friend.
When he reached him, the Frenchman was panicked. Unable to do anything else, England grabbed him, if for no other reason than to stop the fool from throwing himself into the flames as well.
"I did what I could," he lied, "but they wouldn't listen to me! It's too late, frog!"
Arthur's heart ached at the desperation in Francis' voice. "Non! I won't let you take 'er from me!"
France's legs caved in and England felt him falling. He caught the nation quick enough to safely lower him to the ground. "It's too late, Francis! I'm sorry…I'm so sorry…"
England held the broken man close. He truly didn't want to see him in pain. He just wanted the Frenchman to himself once more. He just needed him to realize that humans would never be enough, they would always die and leave them alone again. But England would always be there, so why was Francis so hung up on this young human?
With each sob, England's guilt grew. His heart ached for Francis, both feeling his sadness and knowing that he would never feel this over him. When France finally calmed down enough to move, his first action was to push Arthur away. The Englishman let him, preparing himself for the words of hatred and anger that he knew would come.
But Francis was silent. Slowly, he picked his head up, his eyes meeting England's and holding the gaze. Arthur was immobilized by the heartbroken look of betrayal in his old friend's eyes.
He said nothing, and watched Francis walk away.
