Blue-green eyes blink open, squinting at the harsh summer light filling the room through the open window. France stands by it, having pulled back the curtains in order to let some light in. "Rise and shine, Ana. I've made breakfast."
She sits up, her arm instinctively going up to shield her eyes from the sun. "What time is it?" She looks around for a clock but finds none. Francis smiles.
"It's about nine o'clock, but if you want to go to Paris, we have to leave before Arthur wakes up. It'll just be a day trip, have no worries, but we can get you some clothes more from this century, oui?"
Anabel nods, getting out of bed. Making him wait in the hall as she gets dressed, she finds a dress that was slightly toned down fromt the one she wore yesterday. Figuring this is the best she can do, she allows France to lead her back into the dining area and they quickly eat, leaving as soon as they finish.
When Anabel gets to Paris, she can't stop staring at all of the buildings. She grew up in a small town, but she knew her mother had been from here. "Where are we going to get my clothes?"
"Follow me, I'll show you the best clothing store in the city; it's two blocks away."
They walk through the bustling streets, Anabel sightseeing and France watching her face light up. "My mom used to live here," she explains as they enter the store, the bell letting the owners know that people arrived.
Francis takes her over to the front counter and sitting behind it is a tall, beautiful woman. "Bonjour, Francis. Puis-je vous aider?" She smiles, her red lips giving way to perfect teeth, her tone obviously flirtatious.
"Oui, mademoiselle. Cette fille a besoin de quelques plus de vêtements. Quel est le meilleur que vous avez en stock?"
The woman points to the back of the store before batting her eyes at France one more time. "Come, they're over here," he says, showing her the way. There are racks filled with street clothes, but all of them are too fancy for Anabel's taste. She ends up taking a simple black shirt along with a layered skirt to the changing room first, Francis piling clothes onto the counter without her realising it. It's not like he was trying to be mean, he concluded, he just was very capable of knowing what would look good on other people.
Anabel bought ten more outfits at Francis' insistence and by the time they left, it was well into the afternoon. The blond convinced her to go out to eat with him and they found a nice english restaurant. "So, Ana, how are you adjusting?"
Chewing on her lunch thoughtfully, Anabel thinks it over. How was she adjusting? She hadn't really thought of that. "How should I be adjusting?" she asked, getting angry. She'd lost her family, her island, and any form of silence apparently. She's living in a strangers world.
"Cherie, I simply meant, do you feel well, all things considering? Is there anything I can do for you to liven Arthurs house?"
"No, I just want to be left alone, honestly."
Dramatic hurt flashes through the french man's eyes and the black haired girl rolls hers. "Don't take it personally. Can we go back to his house yet? I'd rather change out of this as soon as possible."
The car ride home was uneventful and left Anabel wondering if this is really what her life was going to be coming to. And then, a small part of her asked if it really would be that bad. She wasn't alone anymore, that was for sure. And not being alone is better than being left to dwell on the loss of her family all alone on a deserted island. Yet, for some reason, she wanted to go back there so badly; she could feel it in her bones. There was something about that place drawing her in, as if she actually belonged. Maybe she was a nation, everything they've said had made sense.
On their way up the English driveway, Francis pauses to open the door. "Germany? Yes, yes, she's with me. We're just walking up his steps! No I didn't kidnap her! I took her shopping, something that Arthur would never do properly. Of course she's safe, I've cared for my fair share of nations too, you need to remember, Ludwig." They reach the door and Francis is still arguing with the unknown man on the other side of the phone. Anabel opens the door, taking her new clothes from him and bringing them up to her room. "A meeting? I'm not sure if she's ready for that," he says hesitantly. England comes downstairs and bumps into Anabel on her way up.
"I'm sorry dear. Did he hurt you?"
"No, we just went shopping-"
"I don't think that's your decision to make! You'll see if she wants to come when we get to the meeting itself! Adieu!" Francis hung up his phone angrily, seething. He stomps over to the basement door and goes into the wine cellar that he forced England to install into his basement.
"What was that about?"
England sighs. "Some very stupid people who don't remember how hard it is for new nations. Germany expects you to already be capable of attending a meeting and Francis, god forbid, was right. You're not. You haven't even accepted the fact that you're a nation yet. Anyways, go bring up your clothes to your room. I need to talk to Francis."
Nodding dejectedly, she resigns herself to follow his orders. She puts her things away in her dresser, scowling at the extra items that Francis added to her bag. She didn't particularly mind dresses, but this one was a bitch much. It was, in every sense, a little black dress. Extremely short and strapless, there was no doubt that it would show off her figure. A lot of her figure. More than she felt comfortable with. Deciding she would never wear it anyway, she throws it in the trash in her room.
Downstairs, the two men were deciding what to do with the situation involving a young girl and a room full of nations. "We can't just take her there, she'll be eaten alive. What if Russia gets his hands on her? She can't protect herself. She's not prepared to go."
"She still has her own mind capable of making decisions, Arthur. It'd be understandable if she was curious, this is her future that we're talking about. Anyways, it is our responsibility to protect her."
"My responsibility, Francis. I have no idea why you're still here! I have everything covered, thank you very much. I don't need your input on raising a young nation, I've done it enough times. She can't go to this meeting, it's too soon."
"If she's your responsibility then why didn't you take her shopping? Who is going to cook? No way will she be eating your food, you're the only one who can stand it at all. Remember how I used to have to come over when you went out and cooked Alfred and Matthieu food in order for them to not starve to death? I was involved with them and honestly, they both turned out fine. Any mishaps had nothing to do with me being there, but with their personality. America had always been a loud obnoxious kid, even if I wasn't there that wouldn't have changed. And anyways, what about Canada? He turned out perfectly fine, he's one of the better nations. Just let me help with her, Arthur."
Grumbling about frogs and their stupid 'helpfulness', he finally agrees. "Alright, git. But one toe out of line, you'll be back where you started. Understood?"
The older nation's eyes light up, "Understood, mon petit lapin. Now, shall we bring her down here and ask her what she wants to do?"
"Fine. Either way, we need to be careful. Even if she does stay she's weak right now. It's easy for someone to attack her. Someone would have to lend an army and stay with her. I don't trust any of the other nations with her, so it would have to be either me or you. Deal?"
"Of course. And if she goes we keep a close eye on her. Nothing will happen to her, I promise. I'll go get her, England." He slowly makes his way up the stairs, a slight bounce in his steps. There was nothing he loved more than taking care of children, especially when Arthur was involved. Even if he wouldn't admit it out loud, they made a really good parenting team.
"Anabel?" he calls, knocking lightly on her door. Having just finished putting her new stuff away, she opens the door.
"Who were you talking to on the phone earlier? You were talking about me, weren't you?"
"Come downstairs, please. Don't be so curt with me, you need to learn more etiquette. That type of attitude could get you in trouble later down the line, so please, try to be nicer."
French:
Bonjour, Francis. Puis-je vous aider? - Hello, Francis. How may I help you?
Oui, mademoiselle. Cette fille a besoin de quelques plus de vêtements. Quel est le meilleur que vous avez en stock? - Yes, miss. This girl needs some more clothes. What is the best you have in stock?