Alfred F. Jones

Montreal, Quebec

October 27, 2163

"Come on, Iggy. Please?" I asked, my voice quiet for once. England was sitting on his bed thinking and I didn't want to start shouting and get him kicked out.

He sighed, "Fine... I'll talk to you, I suppose..." England said, slowly, "but you can't tell anyone..."

"Not even Germany?" the moment I said it I wished I hadn't; he look like he was in so much pain, just thinking about his former lover.

"Germany has nothing to do with this..." He said, turning away from me.

"He deserves to know. He still loves you, god only knows why; if you'd cheated on me I'd have killed ya."

"That's really not helping you..." said a voice.

I got back on track, "but he really does love you, bless his heart, and he misses you. You talk to him less often than you talk to me."

England stayed silent.

"What about your kids? Robert and Robin? When was the last time that you saw them?"

"...Robert's third birthday... four years ago, that was..." England finally said.

"You have seen your kids in FOUR YEARS?" I yelled, louder than I'd meant to. I blushed, brought my voice back down, and continued, "How is it that I'm a better dad than you? I see all of my 33, THIRTY-FUCKING-THREE, kids at least once each every year! I understand that you're not me but, seriously, you keep calling me a shitty dad because Alieu doesn't like living with me, but your kids haven't seen you in 4 years!"

He sighed and started going through a suitcase, beside his bed, taking out an oversized black t-shirt with a white cirle made from fabric paint on the front. Inside the circle were the words 'tynnu-gylch'.

"What does that mean?"

"What?"

"The thing on the shirt..." I tried to pronounce it but Arthur silenced me with a loud groan.

"It means draw-a-circle, in Welsh, if I recall correctly..." He said the words, enunciating carefully, and sighed again, "Alfred, get out. I'm tired and I can't sleep with you here..." He slipped the shirt over his head and glared at me. "I'm serious. Get out or that death you chose to risk is assured, and believe me when I say this, It will be the longest, most gruesome, most excruciatingly painful experience in your life."

I felt the blood drain from my face and I left the room. I ran into france in the Hallway. He grinned at me.

"Salut, mon cher," he said, bowing slightly. "Did you find Robert-douce?"

"Uhuh, he was in the lounge, apparently!" SHIT! I thought, Germany was right, I can't keep myself quiet...

"Ufufufufu... 'ow is dear Arthur? I 'eard from Louis zat 'e was feeling a bit ill at yesterday's meeting..."

And he says that I can't keep my mouth shut... "He's tired and grumpy and he sent me away with a death threat."

"Zat's no reason for you to leave, MAIS NON!" France said. His smiled relaxed a bit and was warm. "Listen to me, my dear Alfred; 'e threatens to kill me all ze time, I never leave when 'e tells me to, and 'e 'asn't killed me, yet, 'as he?"

"No, but I'm not you."

"True, you are not ze perfection zat is Le France but still... 'e loves you, Alfred; 'e is even less likely to kill you. Is zere something seriously wrong with him...?"

I decided to tell someone even though England had told me not to. "Yeah... He's thin as bone, now, Francis, and, when I asked him about it... He said that it was 'none of my concern...'"

"Eugh... don't ever do that again..."

"Did I get his voice right?"

"It was exactly like his voice..."

"well, anyway, He's not talking to any of the nations... Not Germany, Not Ivan (though I really hadn't expected him to talk to Ivan anyway), Not even Canada-!"

"Leave Darling Canade out of this, s`il te plait," France said, his tone flat.

"Eh... okay. Anyway, all I know is that Alieu talks to him occassionally and Allan is actually trying to-"

"Leave L'Illinois out of it also..."

"He won't talk to anyone... What should I do...?"

"You said that he is bone thin, Oui?"

"Uhuh."

"You need to make him eat so that he will no longer be bone thin. If I may..."

He paused for a moment.

"You and L'Angleterre... you have a history together, Non? You love him, and he loves you. Do you know where I am going with this?"

I flushed a dark maroon color as I realized what he was saying, "Y-you mean that I have to... with England...? H-he doesn't like me that way..."

"Ah, but he does! He had been with many others before he met you but did you know that he hasn't been with anyone, since the end of the revolutionary war?"

"Not true. What about Germany?"

"Ufufufufu... He wasn't in his right mind at the time... I had been wondering when La Plus Chère would be back."

"Eh... La Plus Chère? Qu'est ce que c'est?" I asked, my french mediocre at best.

"La Plus Chère is England but not England... Do you remember how you split when you were still a young country?"

I nodded.

"There was another, was there not?"

I nodded again.

"That was the confederacy. You have experienced having to share your country with another. L'Angleterre is different; rather than having split his body and become two, he merged with another and became one. L'Angleterre that I knew long ago in the 16th century... that was La Plus Chère. The Dearest One... He was not L'Angleterre, but he was. He ruled the seas but he was no gentleman; no, the closest that I've seen L'Angleterre to being La Plus Chère was when he was a punk and we all know how that worked out. They were two very different people..."

"And?"

"La Plus Chère was in control of L'Angleterre's body for a very long time... So long that some countries, such as La Russe, never learned the difference... then came Les guerres de la Roses... that was a very turbulant time for L'Angleterre, and when I say L'Angleterre, I mean L'Angleterre's Body; as I said he was not in control of himself..."

"When was that?"

"from 1455 up until 1485... I really should tell you... It was a bit like chess..."

"In what way is a civil war like chess?"

"Two Kings, their queens, and their armies fighting...and the king can do nothing but surrender... La Plus Chère was La Rose Blanche and L'Angleterre, or Le sans amis as he was aptly called, was La Rose Rouge... It was like the battle of the queens in that one book that I neglected to read by Lewis Carroll... You read it once, Oui?"

"Yeah, but only because England told me to."

"What was it called, Amerique?"

"Through the looking glass."

"Ah, yes... I remember that..."

I had to get France back on track, "That's a great story and all, but could you please tell me how this pertains to what you said earlier because you've lost me."

"Here is a summary; L'Angleterre has not been with anyone by choice since the revolution, this is because he loves you. When he was with Germany, he was not in control and I believe that Germany knows about this. La Plus Chère was the one in control and L'Angleterre has told me that he still remains a voice in L'Angleterre's head, Just like your Petit Confédéré-."

"Don't call him that. He isn't a little anything; he was a huge problem that eventually got my favorite boss shot. He was an asshole who faced me at every turn, and I'm glad that I won; that war went on for too long. Don't call him that, ever ever again." I could barely recognize my own voice.