Memories of a Different Time

(disclaimer: Fluff is my life, but these characters are not mine. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading England, France and Sealand's pointlessly adorable adventures together, though.)

oO-Memories of A Princess-Oo

It was far past bedtime, and he still wasn't back.

Peter heaved a long sigh and continued to stare out the window, brows furrowed in impatience. He gazed up at the moon, tapping his foot, trying to fight off the inevitable sleepiness that snuck up at times you didn't want it. He blinked three times, then turned his head towards the couch, where a half-dozing France was laying.

"Jii?"

France groaned, then opened his eyes. He stared at Peter in surprise. "Mon petite, you are still awake?" he asked, sitting up, a bit concerned. "Wasn't your bedtime quite a while ago?"

"Jii, when is England coming home?"

France rubbed the stubble on his chin and glanced up at the clock. It was nearing midnight. "Ah, Peter, I'm sure he'll be home soon—why don't you go to sleep? I'm sure you are tired, no?"

Peter let out a long sigh, turning back to the window. "You said he was going to be back a long time ago. He promised to tell me bedtime stories about his fairies tonight."

France's eyes softened at the child. England had been busy recently, what with constant war meetings for his country, not to mention the meetings with the Allies that they attended. France had cooked dinner without England's protests of how he wanted Peter to have "good, English food, and not this froggy French crap" more often then not.

The older blond stumbled to his feet and walked quietly over to Peter. France silently placed his hand on Peter's shoulder. He could see Peter was on the verge of nodding off, trying desperately to stave the sleep off.

"England is not here, and you simply must go to bed. Growing children need their sleep. He will be here in the morning, cheri."

Peter looked up at France pleadingly. "Jii!" he whined. "Just a little longer? Can't I wait just a little longer?" He asked, pouting slightly, his eyes shining. France pursed his lips.

Ah, so this is the puppy dog pout England has been warning me about.

The older man crossed his arms and narrowed his eyes seriously. "Cheri." he warned. "I will give you five minutes. If England is not here by then, I am putting you to bed."

At this, Peter crossed his arms, trying to mimic France. "Why do I have to go to bed?" he asked sulking. "I don't want to."

Despite Peter's efforts France held fast. "You need your rest. I am not as much of a pushover as England, you know." he replied, smiling slightly. "You cannot always have your way, cheri."

The blond child sighed, turning away, facing the window. He looked up at the moon again and continued to sulk, though France could see in his eyes that sleeping sounded promising and very tempting. Seeing his chance, France thought for a moment, then continued smoothly, stroking Peter's cheek with the back of his hand.

"If it's a story you want, how about I tell you one, hmm? Mattieu used to say that I told the greatest stories. You can have one about whatever you like, though I do not know much about England's imaginary fairy friends."

Peter glanced up at his surrogate uncle, his interest perked. He rubbed his eyes involuntarily and yawned. "...anything?"

France quickly swooped Peter up into his arms and, before Peter could protest, nuzzled his cheeks. "Yes, anything, mon petite. Whatever your precious little heart desires, I will be happy to give to you."

Suddenly looking exhausted, Peter rested his head on France's shoulder, his eyes halfway closed. "Tell me a story about a prince and a princess."

After a moment of careful thought, France began to walk away from the window, chuckling softly. "I think I have the perfect story for you." he said softly as he carried Peter up the stairs. "Once upon a time...there was a very pretty, young princess. She was trapped in a very tall tower."

The child nodded his head, his sleepy, curious blue eyes hanging onto France's every word. "...uh-hmm?"

"This pretty woman had been left in her tower for a very long time. Being there, all alone, had caused her to become very bitter and mean." France shifted Peter in his arms, trying not to jostle him too much as he opened the door to Peter's room. "One day, however, a dashing, handsome, tres bon magnifiquent young prince decided to rescue her." He gently began to settle Peter down in the bed, laying him down carefully. "But, there was a monster guarding the princess."

Peter let out an audible gasp. "A monster? What kind, Jii?"

France had to quickly think. "—A centaur! Yes, it was a large centaur, with one pointed horn and a large club in its hands, whose laugh was very irritating that it crumbled buildings. The centaur was there to stop anyone from seeing the princess! It tried to stop the handsome prince, but the prince defeated it with the power of love." France chuckled, grabbing the blankets and covering Peter with them. "The prince happily went up to the top room in the tallest tower in order to rescue his princes..."

"Then what, Jii?"

"Well," France laughed awkwardly. "As it turns out, the centaur was there because the princess told him to be. She was very angry that the prince had made it the whole way to find her."

At this, Peter frowned. "Why would she do that?"

"You have to remember, mon petite, that she had been in that castle for a long time. She wasn't very nice because of that."

France kissed Peter's forehead, wiping the bangs out of the child's eyes. Peter looked up sadly at his uncle. "What happened after that?" he asked softly, pulling the covers up to his chin.

"Well...the prince decided to convince the princess that he loved her. He offered her a better life, outside the castle, to live with him. And, after some persuading, she accepted, however grudgingly." France straightened up, smiling.

"...did they..." Peter yawned loudly again. "...did they live happily ever after?"

"Oui, somewhat. The end."

Peter turned over, closing his eyes. "That was a good story, Jii." he mumbled, already halfway into dreamland. France chuckled slightly and tiptoed out of the room, shutting the door behind him.

—oOOo—

"Peter—!"

England burst through the door. He looked around frantically for the child, but instead his eyes fell upon France, who had resumed his place on the couch. England's face dropped at the sight of the long-haired blond, and he grimaced slightly. "...I'm too late again, aren't I?" he asked softly.

"Oui, and you are far too loud for this time at night."

France sat up, making room for England on the couch. The smaller blond hung his head low as he settled down next to France. He put his head in his hands and let out a long, sad sigh. "Damn it...I-I promised myself that I wouldn't be late today. Peter must have been so disappointed."

France rubbed between England's shoulder blades, trying to comfort his downtrodden comrade. "Non, Arthur. He wasn't too crushed. I told him a story to get his mind off it."

England peeked out at France through his hands. He straightened up, only to turn to his side and lean on France's shoulder, his eyes closed. "What kind of story did you tell him? I'm kind of afraid to ask."

"...would you like to here it, mon cher?" France asked, grinning slightly.

"Yeah, I may as well. I want to make sure that you aren't feeding Peter stories full of smut and porn."

At this France chuckled slightly. He began to rake his hand through England's messy mop of blond hair. "Right...well, once upon a time, there was a princess who was stuck in a high tower, all by herself."

"Ah, I know how this one goes." England interrupted. "Let me guess. Somehow, a prince finds out about this pretty woman stuck in the tower. He decides to rescue her, but there's a monster in his way. He defeats it, gets the girl, and lives happily ever after, right?" he yawned a little. "That's always how these stories go. I should know. We made up a lot of them at my place."

"Ah, mon cher, you're so clever!" France praised, still tugging at England's blond locks. "But, while the story does go like that, there is a twist. Would you like to hear it?"

England glanced up, moderatly interested. "What is it?" he asked, curious.

"This princess didn't wish to be rescued. She was afraid of outside, of getting hurt, so she preferred her isolation." France stroked his chin thoughtfully.

England scoffed, but remained interested. "...continue, frog."

France did exactly that. "...and the prince knew she was afraid. He had known her as a child, and watched her grow up, and teased her and fought with her, all up until she locked herself in the tower.

"He knew that the princess didn't want to be rescued, but he tried to save her anyway, because..."

"Because?" England urged, sitting up, gazing at France. "Why did he go save her, if she went through all the trouble to keep everyone out?"

"...because he loved her. He loved her more then anyone else on the Earth." France stood up, then leaned down and kissed England's forehead, smiling softly. "You should go to bed, mon cher. Peter will be up first thing in the morning, and he'll want to play with you."

England let out a soft groan. He sat up, stretching his arms and yawning. "That was actually a pretty good story, frog." he said sleepily. "Good job."

With that being said, England lumbered into the hallway and nearly crashed into his door. He opened the door to his room and stumbled in, the door closing behind him. France, however, sat back down on the couch, stroking his chin thoughtfully. He studied the empty space for a long moment.

"...he rescued her...because he loved her."

end chapter

(A/N: I totally did not intend to ship FrUK when I started this fanfiction, but it sort of just...happened. A ha ha. Hope you enjoyed.)