Welcome, to a another sidestory and more importantly, a story that doesn't necessary have to be read with the original series. But before you start, let me tell you something. Nations, as Hetalia goes, aren't nations in this story. The series involves vampire, but this sidestory starts before two of the characters became vampires.
But to make sure to clarify this universe. This story takes place in a fictional Europe, where vampires exist. The vampires can be divided into clans, one which has Aldric (Germania) as a First Maker, meaning the vampire whose powers you become vampire from. The other European First Maker Julius (Roman Empire). In this universe both vampires turned some of our favourite characters to vampires, and those vampires in turn turns other characters, making it a linear tree. When a vampire is born, the person who turns him/her is that vampires Maker, and has to obey this vampire for a 100 year, until their bond breaks, and the younger vampire leaves. During this period the Maker will teach the younger vampires all the skills they need to survive. Vampires live for many, many years, and cannot be killed by anything except a few obscure methods, such as blessed or holy items, the sun (which has a 100% accurate death rate), beheading, initial stabbing by an unknown amount of hits or self inflicted death.
Original story (in case you are interested): Blood, Bites, Immortality. Pairings for this story is Denmark/Norway and Sweden/Finland. The story involves Norway (Lukas) accidentally turning Iceland (Emil) and hell literally ensues.
Pairings: France/England or Francis/Arthur, mainly told from France's POV
Rating: M (for adult themes)
Category: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Ps: Sorry if my French is bad, it's been 8 years since I studied French, and I am really rusty.
Bites: A love lost
France 810
I love you~ Arthur
I will never forget that day, my love, and our memories will never bleach. No matter how far away we have to stand, know that I will love you forever.
Mercenary ships travel half across the world. When I was fifteen, I boarded a vessel near the port of today modern Calais. My mother had died the year before, and as a poor teen with no income and a father whom I didn't know, I had no choice but to find work. I was lucky though, that the captain of the ship was looking for boys that could work for less than a rat got fed, and I was ready to do so.
My name is Francis Bonnefoi. For ten years I made my life at sea and by ports. Apart from the hard work, all I was truly capable of was cooking. So, by the end I was hired to cook for the armies who'd travel across the canal to Dover. It was what I was useful for, and at least this way the soldiers got nutritious meals every day, to the best of my abilities.
And one day, I was stranded on those rocks. An enemy ship had sailed and rammed into ours. Their ship was bigger, more well built and crushed the side of ours. The ship I sailed sunk. The soldiers that protected me died. I was spared, having hidden away from sight, and when the coast was clear enough that our enemies didn't pay me any attention I dove in and swam towards land. I couldn't fight. I didn't know how to fight. I could only flee, and hope that no one would find me.
But they did... or you did.
And I'll never forget that moment.
"Who the hell are you?"
Dover is known for their cliffs, and many sailors pass them. You were among them, on your way home from a market, together with a fisherman who was your friend.
You asked me who I was, but your language was foreign and I couldn't understand. I crawled back and tried to hide like a rabbit in its whole. But you were used to such, and hauled me up.
You brought me to your village like the prisoner I was. I didn't know then, but you wanted custody of me. Hoping to sell me when the next slave-trades were off. Your chief agreed, hoping to get some of that money for himself.
And you brought me here... to what became our home.
-000-
You cared for me. Even if I was a prisoner, you took care of me. You allowed me to wash the dirt from my body. You gave me new clothes, when my old ones were falling apart.
"I just don't want to see your... you know." you said, blushing while you gave me the package.
The sight made me smile.
"What's your name?"
"Qué? Je ne comprande pas."
"Are you from France by any chance?"
"La France, oui c'est mon pays!"
My poor darling. The whole thing seemed impossible at first, but you kept calm. You understood my English was limited.
"I am Arthur, you?" you said, signalling with your hands.
"Arthur? Oh, je m'apelle Francis."
"Francis. Francis from France... good Lord. Is that some kind of joke?"
"Francis..." I pointed at me. "Arthur." I pointed at you.
"Yes." you nodded.
"Bon."
You smiled, the first of many during those days. You touched your tummy, and circled it.
"Hungry?"
I didn't know what hungry meant, but I knew you spoke of food. I hadn't eaten in over a day. So I nodded, and you moved to a small stove to make us some food.
I am sorry my love, I love many things about you, but not your cuisine. It was awful.
And I mean awful...
We both got sick.
After a traumatising meal and our recovery it wasn't hard for me to become useful. You also taught me your language, although you refused to learn mine. But still, we started speaking.
And I am happy we did. Even if our bodies can speak a completely different language.
-000-
There are certain things you never get used to, but you were the ratter of the village, hence dead rats was something I was forced to get used to. As for the smell, that's another story. Still, the more time we spent together the less you spoke about the slave-trades and the more your home became our home, despite the rats. We ate well, while you worked I could collect food from the wilderness and on occasion hunt for rabbits. Sure, it was not what I had cooked before, but the challenge of cooking is truly intriguing.
Open fires are not so much...
But I will never hate fires, because it closed the gap between us.
I had decided to bake some bread for the soup I was cooking, when some cinder touched my hand and scorched it. It stung, and you noticed. You brought the burn to your mouth, to sooth the pain.
I blame late hormones, but the action was surprising, though very pleasant. I had never been close to people before, and the simple touch sent something burning inside me. I think you noticed, because you started kissing my wrist, my arm, to my shoulder and soon our tunics were gone, our skin glued to the other, the hard straws at our backs while you pressed to me.
I had never loved a man before. I had never fallen in love before. Somehow, this night changed everything. I didn't even know two men could love, but once we united all that mattered was you and the pleasantries that you offered. I learned from you that night that men can love much like women, and the pleasure it gives can never equal any other pleasure a woman could offer me. Our love simply wasn't something to compete with.
Our love grew from there on, and kept expanding.
That spring when the slave trades came and went, we watched them come and go. You were holding my hand, and whispered those words of devotion, that you'd never let me go. I believed you, I trusted you. I loved you with all my heart.
I wasn't sure how our future would be, news of an upcoming darkness spread among our shores. But we weren't worried, as long as we had each other. But we knew we needed to be wary, the village had started to question our bond, and your unwillingness to marry. Who knew what would have happened if that next week had never occurred. But for the time, we didn't worry.
That night we went for a walk under starry skies. Maybe two men can not be together, but we didn't care. You took me to the forest, laid me down and opened my legs to heaven. We kissed, and you entered me like so many other nights. It was bliss, it was love.
Sadly, it had to end
-000-
Someone saw us. She wanted us dead. We were lucky she was mad, but it sparked the suspicion. They asked you:
"Can you prove your innocence by marrying before summer?"
You answered: "Yes."
It broke my heart.
But with everyone watching we couldn't talk about it. I knew why your promises had to be made, but I still hated it.
I silently swore, if you ever were to wed, then she would die. Because I could never live with knowing that someone else but me shared your bed and your life.
You were mine.
But we didn't talk about it. We barely spoke at all. Life went on, our nights were still loving, but something changed. I think the outcome worried you, because you didn't say once during those nights that you loved me. And near summer you suddenly left, to go to the market to be among people, to hopefully find a bride. I waited. I waited for you to come back. I had even sharpened a knife to cut whatever whore you brought with you.
But you never returned.
And words were sent of your untimely death.
The knife I held fell out of my hand. I couldn't believe what I heard, but I knew it couldn't be natural. Because you were so healthy, and my cooking would have made sure you'd be at the peek of your health. No, something sinister had happened. I rushed out of our home, stole a horse and rode it harshly towards the market, not caring about the pouring cold rain or the harsh winds. I reached the market. Asked anyone for more information about your killer, but no one knew.
Five days went like this, and I didn't know what to do. I had talked to everyone, followed every possible lead to a killer and the only verdict I had was that my lover was dead, killed, but no one could tell me how. No one could even tell me where his remains were, and what had happened, everything they knew was from a scene of when Arthur had collapsed, blood on his neck with three other young men from different parts of the large island.
I was defeated, and worse I couldn't even bring justice to the one person that meant so much for me when a miracle seemingly happened.
It was late night, when a women walked up to me. She was dressed in royal blue, her hair was wavy and blond and she looked too rich for this area. But yet, she approached me and sat down beside me on the rock I had claimed for myself.
"Good evening, please tell me. Why do you look so sad?"
"I am a failure." I told her. "My lover was killed, and I haven't even found a trace of the person responsible for the crime."
"Oh, I am sorry. I feel for you. Who was the unfortunate lady?"
At this point I didn't care who would know my sins. I was tired, depressed and had given up on ever being happy again.
"His... his name was Arthur."
"Arthur... I see." It was an odd reply, but I didn't think about it.
"Could you come back here tomorrow, at this same place. I have someone who I think you would like to meet."
"Did he see who did it?"
"No, it is not a witness."
I sighed.
"D'accord, I shall wait." and I went back to blame myself.
-000-
The next evening a great fog rolled in from the sea. I came back to the rock, and I wasn't too surprised when I didn't see the woman. In fact, I was pretty sure she had been lying by now. What else would be important to return to for me now, than leads on my lover's death? The air was chilly, and I shuddered. Maybe this is how it should end for the two of us? It seemed fitting, after all it was a sin for a man to love another man like us. Maybe this was God's will to punish us both.
Then something moved in the fog. I could see someone approaching me and I gasped. If this was a joke, it had to be the cruelest thing in the world. But, it couldn't be. Who else had eyebrows as thick as those?
"A-Arthur?"
"Francis? What are you doing here?"
Another shadow appeared, it was the woman again. She put her hand protectively on Arthur's shoulder, and I started to tremble from rage. A woman, it could only mean one thing. But why? Why had Arthur gone through the problem of creating such a scene? Were they to elope? Had they known each other for long? Was she the reason that he had been so distant?
"Francis, it's not what you think?"
I was trembling so badly by now that it showed. How I hated this woman, I wanted her to burn.
"Francis, she is not my wife, nor my lover. Mary is my Maker."
Maker?
Arthur approached me, and landed a soft kiss on my forehead. My trembling stopped. I momentarily forgot about the woman, glad to see him, glad to feel him. But of course, I remembered again and stared back into his eyes.
"Explain!" I ordered. Arthur sighed.
"Francis. I don't know how. Mary and I, we're... we're not of this world honestly, at least not anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"We're... we've been turned. I am not human. I used to be, and I honestly miss being it. But, we're not anymore. Mary here, a few days she turned me and three other men. She made us... she gave us a gift."
"A gift, what gift?"
"She sucked our blood, but she made us immortal. Dangerous, threatening and demonic, but immortal."
"Immortal? Arthur, that is impossible?!"
I didn't understand and in all this Mary, as you called her, was silent. She didn't say a word.
"She, she made us into one of her own. A nightwalker, a demon that hungers for blood. Bloody hell, even now I can feel it. It hungers, it wants me to feed."
"Feed?"
"Yes feed, it needs blood. Y-your blood..." Arthur stammered and leaned closer to me, but Mary reacted swiftly and held you back.
But your sharp fangs still grazed the skin on my shoulder, and I could feel the pain as my skin tore. I winced, not understanding, not believing. I must be dreaming, but the pain was real.
Your eyes widened as you realised that you had indeed hurt me.
"You should go!" you said. "Go, and never return. We can never be together again. Go Francis, live your life, share your love with someone else. But forget about me."
-000-
You left after that, before I could give my reply. But I knew deep down that you were right. I would die, and you would live on. I could tell you had changed, I just didn't want to believe it. Reluctantly I returned back to France. I couldn't return to our village, not after the way I had set after you. Nor did I want to remain on the island. So I returned to the land I had left.
But I found out my heart couldn't settle, no matter how many women I tried to charm and no matter how many ways I tried to flee. It still hurt, and nobody could heal it.
I walked around the country like this until summer ended. I was honestly about to give up for real, I just wanted to find a quick way to end it.
That's when I stumbled across a man that was very odd and out of place. I had reached the bays of Seine, when a tall man approached me.
I could tell what he was, and I fought him. I didn't want anything to do with the things you had become. Somehow, my struggles paid off, because he left with a shrug. Only then did I realise my mistake.
He was a creature like that Mary, and Mary had somehow made Arthur into a creature like her. Surely, another one could make me the same?
I and Arthur could be together again.
But while I had this in mind, the strange man left. I hurried after. I was determined to get you back.
I didn't know I'd need to chase him across half of France.
It sounds stupid, but when he finally did notice me I was exhausted and had fallen asleep by a tree. He saw me, recognised me, and he did turn me. I am not sure what happened, but from what others have told me he drained me from blood, and gave me some of his own. It's an exchange which will then open your body for the demon that will come to possess you.
I spent a hundred years then of my new life in his service. He taught me to hunt, to fight and to be what we were. Then after a hundred years, when I claimed the large region of France as my territory, I decided it was time for us to meet each other.
Seeing you again should have been like being reborn, yet I was so wrong. I didn't know back then that when vampires met, they would fight to destroy each other. No matter of our bonds, no matter of the feelings we have for each other, we can never be together.
Arthur, I love you. I know you love me, even if you have never said it since that day when you left. I know one day we will be together again, my love. Whether it will be in a century, a couple of centuries or a millenia I cannot say, We shall once more love again, mon cher! Adieu, for now.
Francis
A/N: Holy Hera... never thought I would finish it. This story spent a lot of time on my desktop before I dragged my lazy self to finish it. If you honestly want to know what did happen to these two, I suggest you go and read my much longer main story: Bites, Blood, Immortality. If not, then then keep wondering. I'm not telling... sssh...