AN: Fem!France. How loathsome. I enjoy France as a man, but for some reason I have no problem with fem!Prussia... I guess I never read a good fem!France fic. Usually it's fanfictions that make me realize I like things, like FrUK (which I HATED) and Spamano (which I was not a fan of either just because I hated Romano).

This chapter was fun to write anyway, though, because I enjoy amnesia. Especially the self-induced kind :D

Remember to keep up the reviews everyone, and thanks so much for them! ^^

"Mother?"

Francine looked up from the book she was curled up with to see her son, her wonderful son Alfred at the door. How brave and handsome he was, a model prince. Now he only needed a wife, and he would be perfect.

"Come in, darling," she said warmly, rising to greet him. Alfred stepped inside, running a hand nervously through his blond hair. "What is the matter?"

"Well…" He sorted through his words. "Mother, am I truly your only son?"

Her blood chilled. That tugged at…something…deep inside her mind. Was he her only son? "Of course, darling. You have not met any other siblings, have you?" She chuckled. "If you had siblings, you would have met them by now."

Alfred's expression was suspicious. "I went riding today, near the forest."

Her brow creased with concern. "Did you? Alfred, dear, you know Mother does not like it when you take risks like that. You could fall and get a scar and ruin your face, dearest."

Alfred had tired of subtlety. He was not good at beating around the bush. "I met a lindorm on my ride, Mother."

Something burst forth from deep inside Francine, a memory she had suppressed because she had wanted to forget. Her knees buckled. Was it not for Alfred's strong arms and quick reaction, she would have fallen face-down on the floor.

"Mother?" His worried face swam up to her from the hazy gray that filled her sight.

"Monster," she garbled, delirious from her near faint. "Couldn't be my son. No. Not mine. Not a prince. Monster, had to be disposed of."

Alfred's expression grew shocked, then closed off with mistrust and hurt. "He is my brother! My brother! Why did you never tell me?"

"Monster," she wept, clinging to his shirt. "No son of mine! No! Never!"

It had been gradual, altering the memory. Lying to herself. Now she had no recollection of actually giving birth to the monster—all she remembered was throwing it, repulsed, from her bed. But Alfred's words were dragging them to the surface, all the memories she had locked away. Giving birth. Seeing it there, wet and coughing and mewling just like an infant, but more horrible than any human child could ever be. Throwing it, hurling it over the parapets with a strength she had never had before or since. The accusation in its amber eyes, as if even as a baby it understood that what she was doing was a crime abhorrent to all.

"Mother, he is your son," Alfred said gently, rocking her back and forth. "He is alive, and his name is Matthew."

"No!" she howled, thrashing in his grip. "Monster! Not my son!"

"Listen to me!" Alfred snatched her wrists and made her look him in the eyes, enunciating each syllable carefully. "He is a lindorm, and he is your son, and he needs to be wed before I can marry."

"What?" she said faintly.

"The soothsayer told him. He needs to have the love of a willing bride, or I will never marry."

Francine's heart iced over with dread. "No…" Hot needles pricked behind her eyes. "Fortune has abandoned us," she whispered. "How can this be?"

Alfred brushed back her hair comfortingly. "Do not lose hope. I am sure we can come up with some sort of arrangement…"

She shook her head mournfully. "He's a lindorm, Alfred. A dragon! How can we ever find a wife for a dragon?"

"We will find something," Alfred said firmly. Her sweet, strong Alfred. He never gave up. "We must."

AN: I think France would be a VERY doting mother. Like, the suffocating kind. I'd prefer him as a boyfriend! :D

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