Nico: Bonjour (Hello)! I promised I would upload a chapter today, a long chapter, which means, character development (of some sort)!
As you can tell, this chapter is about France. I said in previous chapters that a friend of mine challenged me. The challenge was "Why does France act the way he does?" This was a difficult challenge actually. When I started writing this story, I didn't really like France that much, that is the effect French classes has. So I thought and thought, "why would someone be perverted?" I had some pretty dark ideas at first, but they didn't seem to work. Then I thought of something, which I summed up in this chapter.
Oh! And also, this chapter is a bit of a songfic (The lyrics are in bold, after the title: France). The song is called Protege Moi by Placebo (one of the two french songs I know, and the only french song I really like), so I recommend listening to the song while reading this chapter (you don't have to, but it may help with the feeling on the chapter).
I hope you all enjoy this chapter and perhaps see France in another view.
I DO NOT OWN HETALIA: AXIS POWERS!
France
C'est le malaise du moment…
"Francis…"
Francis looked up from his seat to the sight of his diplomat. A year had almost passed since Francis had lost it in a fit of fury. Francis had since then isolated himself from the others, Hubert included.
"Je veux parler avec toi." Hubert spoke in their mother tongue.
L'épidémie qui s'étend…
"Pourquoi...?" Francis asked, rather grimly. Hubert cringed at the tone of his country's voice. It was strange to hear him like this. He was used to hearing him with his alluring voice, but never one such as this. Hubert could almost see the grimness escaping from Francis's words.
"Je suis inquiet… pour toi." Hubert cautiously took a step, and then another, until he sat down in the couch beside Francis in the living room. "Pourquoi es-tu triste…?"
La fête est finie on descend…
"Pourquoi tu veux savoir?"
"Tu es mon pays, République Française… et tu es mon ami, Francis Bonnefoy. If not for the country, let me know, as a friend," Hubert said rather boldly.
Les pensées qui glacent la raison…
The two had started off as wonderful pals in the beginning of war, going the bar every other day. He was not sure if Francis considered him as a friend, and if Francis didn't then his statement may anger the Frenchman.
Francis sat there for a moment, he was fully aware of what his diplomat had said, and was currently contemplating the information.
Paupières baissées, visage gris…
Francis's friends were mostly the other countries. He and Britain had known each other since childhood, however they weren't what one would call "friends". He and North Italy were more brothers than anything else, and South Italy was afraid of him. His only friends were Spain and Prussia.
Surgissent les fantômes de notre lit…
It was strange to think the trio would become friends. Spain was an optimistic man, with little to no worries. He was a huge airhead, never realizing that Netherlands hated him. Prussia was a hooligan, who's only idol was Old Fritz and himself. He was childish as a nation, and childish and bothersome as an ex-nation. France however was a flirtatious man, who was often seeing stalking males and females. Looking back, Francis remembered why he was like that.
On ouvre le loquet de la grille…
"Je veux quelqu'un pour m'aimer et rester avec moi…" Francis spoke, not realizing the tears that ran down his checks to his chin.
Du taudis qu'on appelle maison…
"No matter… what I did. Ze people I loved left me. America, petite Amerique, 'ad left me for Britain. I wasn't strong enough to get 'im, and 'e chose Britain in ze end."
Sommes nous les jouets du destin…
"Canada, mignon Mattheiu, I 'ad 'im. 'e was such a cute little child, much kinder zan 'is brother. Very shy zough, but loved to cook. Zen… Britain took 'im again."
Souviens toi des moments divins…
"Zen Seychelles, jeune Seychelles, she was always so energetic. She loved fish and shared my dislike for Britain. 'owever, she was taken too… by Britain…"
Planants, éclatés au matin…
"Francis…" Hubert passed him a tissue.
"Merci…" Francis said taking the dainty paper, wiping his pinking eyes. "Zere was also… Jeanne D'Arc… mon amour…"
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls…
"Jeanne D'Arc…?" Hubert recognized the name from his History books. Jeanne D'Arc, or Joan of the Arc, led the French Army to several victories during the Hundred Years' War. During the later years, she was pushed to recover France from the English domination.
Perdus les rêves de s'aimer…
"Oui… Elle m'a libéré. Elle était mon ange. Elle était mon amour… mais alors…" Francis didn't continue. He couldn't. The very thought made him cringe with pain. Hubert didn't need Francis to continue.
Le temps où on avait rien fait…
Hubert knew that on the 30th of May, 1431, Jeanne D'Arc was executed, for the capital crime of heresy. Francis could never forget the day. He remembered watching as the love of his life was tied to a tall pillar, and burned before a clergy holding a crucifix before her. Francis wanted to step up, and stop it. He could have, he had the strength no human had, and he was a country. Francis however was powerless to the political restraints of his boss. Forced to watch the horrendous display, Francis could only weep.
Il nous reste toute une vie pour pleurer…
Et maintenant nous sommes tout seuls…
Francis grabbed Hubert's hand, much to Hubert's surprise.
"Francis…?"
Protect me from what I want…
"Hubert… Quand est les funérailles? Pour ton père et frère?" Francis asked, suddenly changing the question, putting Hubert in the spotlight.
"Euh…Janvier…" Hubert said. His mother and sister had decided for January for the funeral, as the family needed time to acquire the money for a burial.
"Mm… I will be there to pay my respects," Francis said. "Your father and brother fought strong and well. Now, I have to fight for my people. Something I should have done from the very beginning."
Protect me from what I want…
"Francis," Hubert tightened his grip on the other man's hand. The said man turned to Hubert, staring at him with sorrowful blue eyes. Hubert returned the stare with his own, for a moment he was at a loss for words. Until he noticed the rare frown on Francis's face.
"Sourire," Hubert said first. "On t'aime, Je t'aime, mais penses-tu que t'aime…?"
Protect me from what I want…
"'ubert…" Francis stopped for a moment, a smile slowly appearing on his face. Then Hubert took matters into his own hands, pushing the corners of the man's lip with his thumbs.
"Sourire!" Hubert chuckled.
"Oui! Oui!" Francis chuckled back.
Protect me… Protect me…
Hubert left the growth charts on Francis's table before readying himself to leave. Grabbing his coat, he put his boots on. Finishing his winter attire with a warm scarf his younger sister had made him.
"Are you going to be alright on your own, Francis?" Hubert asked and followed up with a joke. "Or do you need me to babysit you?"
"Oh? So you are interesting in staying overnight with me!" Francis went along with his diplomat's joke. "Well if you say so~"
"Sûrement pas!" Hubert chuckled, Francis followed along. "Au revior, Francis. Bonne Année!" With that, Hubert left.
Francis chuckled to himself as he closed the door. He entered his kitchen, taking out a bottle of Bordeaux and two glasses. His chuckling continued as he made his way up the stairs, to his study. Sitting in his seat, Francis leaned back, as his chuckling began to end.
Popping open the bottle of wine, Francis poured an acceptable amount in both glasses. Licking his lips, he swirled liquid in his glass, carefully, staring at the contents under the light. He stared idly at the second glass, which stood before a picture frame. He reached out with his glass, tapping the two glasses together.
"Bonne Année, Jeanne. Protège Moi."
Nico: Oh~ I really do like this chapter, it was what made me take a liking to France. You probably have an idea when I wrote this... Yeah I wrote it around New Years. Since in school I have French classes this semester, I spotted a couple mistakes (not so many as I expected though).
no Notes...
Translations: (Oh boy...)
Je veux parler avec toi - I want to talk with you
Pourquoi...? - Why...?
Je suis inquiet… pour toi - I am worried...about you
Pourquoi es-tu triste…? - Why are you sad...?
Pourquoi tu veux savoir - Why do you want to know?
Tu es mon pays, République Française… et tu es mon ami, Francis Bonnefoy - You are my country, Republic of France, and you are my friend, Francis Bonnefoy
Je veux quelqu'un pour m'aimer et rester avec moi… - I want someone to love me and stay with me
petite Amerique - Little America
mignon Mattheiu - Sweet Matthew
jeune Seychelles - Young Seychelles
Merci - Thank you
Jeanne D'Arc… mon amour - Joan of Arc... my love
Oui… Elle m'a libéré. Elle était mon ange. Elle était mon amour… mais alors… - Yes... she freed me. She was my angel. She was my love... but then...
Hubert… Quand est les funérailles? Pour ton père et frère - Hubert... When are the funerals? For you father and brother
Janvier - January
Sourire - Smile
On t'aime, Je t'aime, mais penses-tu que t'aime…? - Everyone loves you, I love you, but do you love you?
Sûrement pas! - No way!
Au revior, Francis. Bonne Année - Goodbye, Francis, Happy New Year
Bonne Année, Jeanne. Protège Moi - Happy New Year, Joan. Protect Me
That... was a lot of translations. I chose not to translate the lyrics, as I'm sure you can do that by yourself.
Oof... well, I got to get back to my own work. I hope you all enjoyed this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'll see if I can get back to uploading back to my old daily schedule, but until then, uploads will probably continue to be on weekends or whenever I have some free time. Thank you for reading!
Please Read and Review!