A/N: It's about that time of the year folks - time for everyone to relish in the joys of that in which we call France! I do apologize for the lack of France nudity but after many failed attempts (and an unwillingness to scar an innocent Canada), France will keep his clothes on. To those who wish to read about a naked France, this is not the place to do so.
I forgot to include in the first chapter how this story will break off into parts. Part 1 will appropriately end with, of course, the Seven Year's War. I also decided to stop being indecisive about the time and made it so that is now March, 1689. So it's around 67 years away from the Seven Years' War. Your fill of pairings may have to wait.
Originally, Arthur was to make an appearance with Alfred this chapter but it screwed with the flow too much. The next chapter will have the two.
Lucky709, yes her name is Madison. I know it's a bit too English sounding but I'm not too fond of the name Madeleine for her. I had heard somewhere that Himaruya mentioned liking the name Marguerite but I think the nickname you get from that is either Meg or Peggy, which I don't like at all.
Warnings: Language, historical inaccuracy, potential OOCness, Canadian spelling, France's rainbow-filled heart, weekly updates, sarcasm, an unwillingness to dare use French, a deep France, a sad Canada, etc…
Characters: Fem!Canada, and France. Mentions of England.
Pairings: Family Fem!Canada x France. If you want to see it more than that well... I pity poor Canada; she never saw what was coming.
Word count: 1963
Disclaimers: I don't own Hetalia. With how I draw, many of you should see it as a blessing.
Fear and the Willingness to Act
Something always has to give if you want something, right?
Francis was a rather sensitive man when it came to external affairs. He governed his colonies so that they were completely dependent on him. He would not have it any other way. It always shattered his poor heart to smithereens when he saw colonies that simply were not getting the love they needed to grow in order to be prosperous and powerful. As such, he would give a little love and in return, be rewarded greatly. That and the man would and could at any given time pride him on the constant love he received from them (unlike a certain fuzzy-browed freak).
Now, for Francis to express his love to his colonies was not cheap endeavor. Colonies were expensive to maintain, but he couldn't help it. He loved them too much. Their mysteries were simply too enticing for him. Their secrets left him exploring and craving more out of their lands. It always filled France's heart with joy when his colonies became more and more French. He loved the way they enjoyed his food, his language and partaking in his culture.
Nothing would destroy his empire. Nothing.
When Madison had come home with her bear in tow, her eyes were filled with pure fear (something Francis abhorred seeing on anyone's face, especially that of his little princess), causing him to be overcome with concern that seemed to emit from his very being.
The Frenchman quickly scooped her up and questioned, 'are you okay?' while gently embracing the young colony. His eyes began to form glistening tears that slowly fell down his cheek. This in turn caused the girl to let out muffled out sobs into Francis' fine silk shirt.
When her quivering and tears died down, France sat the colony down, towering over her, and resumed in his advances to get something out of his dear, sweet colony. At first, France assumed that Madison was crying over the strange flowers she held as they looked slightly wilted- those flowers weren't native to where they currently were. Madison's pure white night gown was stained with the brown of the earth. Her polar bear had faint traces of blood over its mouth.
Something had happened. And it was in hissphere of influence no less!
Anger built up within the man, but he couldn't let it out and break the facade of calmness he needed to extract information from the girl.
"Mon ange, whatever is the matter?"
Silence.
"How am I to help you if I do not know what is wrong?"
Silence.
The facade began to slip.
"I demand you tell me!" His voice resonated in the lavish room that served as his library while in the New World.
A whimper was the only reply he got and her glassy eyes became more watery each second. How France hated those faces. He preferred his colonies to be happy, not sad.
"Oh oh oh, ma petite cherie! Please do not cry. Hush now. See, everything is alright. You are safe.
Now tell me what is bothering you, please! It always makes one feel better if they let out their feelings. Bottling it up is no good."
She sniffled out a meek response, "I met a monster today."
"A monster?" France replied incredulously.
"Yes, he was tall and had white skin and had ugly hair but at least it was a pretty blond like yours and he-" she squeaked abruptly. Her face was turning blue from the lack of oxygen.
"Ma petite cherie, remember to breathe," Francis said with a hint of amusement while stroking her curly locks.
Madison took a huge gulp of air and continued.
"He wore weird clothes that weren't as fancy as yours and he looked weird."
"Weird? Care to explain how this man is weird?" France replied, all while holding in a chuckle.
"He had eyebrows the size of caterpillars a-and his eyes were as green as the grass that blesses the land in the spring."
Francis' breath hitched. His heart started to pound hard in his chest and the look of worry filled his face. It was a strange thing for France to look worried and considered to be as rare as finding a four-leafed clover. Only his rivals would find that face a lucky one, and chances are they would paint pictures of that look as mementos for future insult material if they had the chance (thank goodness it was only his princess who could see it right now).
Madison did not like seeing this look on Francis face and quickly cupped her hands around his cheeks.
"Big brother?"
"O-oh, forgive me mon ange. I was just thinking t-to m-myself," he stuttered while looking into his colony's eyes.
Francis knew all too well of whom his poor, innocent colony was talking about.
"Ma petite chou, do you know who this man is?"
"He said his name was... was E-England."
Francis winced over the uttering of that bastard's name.
"I-I'm so sorry. I knew better than to wander outside this land but something was telling me to go there," she sobbed.
Francis began to slightly rub his temples as a headache began to form.
Why did that uncivilized cretin decide to strike now? Especially during this time for him-
"It is okay, ma petite cherie. I did not expect that man to be wandering around in this part of the world, considering thatevent has not even ended and his wounds are fresh," Francis said in an attempt to wave off her mistake and yet the underlying tone of fear was, still, all too evident.
"What event?" she replied, curiosity replaced whatever fear and sadness that was in her eyes.
"A revolution."
"A what?"
"A revolution. I want you to know that if you ever find yourself near a nation who is experiencing this, please stay away and keep true to who you are and want to be, mon ange. Nations at these sorts of times just... aren't the same person you knew prior to the event and most certainly do not come out being the exact same for a long time. The fires of chaos affect us all too well and the voice of sanity takes her time in quenching those flames."
"I-I'll try. You won't ever become like that right, big brother?"
"Of course not!"
The grandfather clock rung twice and the sound vibrated throughout the house to let everyone know that it was 2:00 in the afternoon.
The young colony in Francis' arms let out a yawn and Francis quickly called upon a servant to escort her to her room for a nap.
"Big brother, I have to tell you something before I fall asleep," she yawned as her doe-like eyes soon became filled with the desire to rest.
"What is it ma petite cherie?"
"That man told me to say something to you. He wanted me to give you his regards and 'may the best win.'"
Francis found himself tense slightly and lightly replied, "Do not think too much about that, and sweet dreams."
The door to the library shut quietly and Madison was no longer in the Frenchman's sight. All Francis could do now was sit back and think about that menace while pouring himself a glass of the finest wine in his possession.
Francis knew far too well from experience that Europe was a mess and having something someone else desired only landed you in trouble. Borders in Europe changed as often as the circle of humans he associated with. The fact Arthur made his move now during a continental war and revolution meant he was serious. Hell, even Francis knew he shouldn't be here, but he wanted to see his dear girl's face. It would be many years, it seemed, before he would see her again. Too many wars worked out like this.
Lying back on the ornate furniture, France's eyes drifted on a map of the New World and his eyes started tracing the borders. To the south, New England (a disgusting name Francis adds) lay. It was a threat now and the need to conquer that place was all the more necessary for his darling girl's safety. Imagine what atrocities that brute would commit if his New France were to be under his jurisdiction!
The idea tasted sour in his mouth. This realization only prompted him to want write a letter of sorts to instruct the officials within New France to find a way to gain a leg up on the larger English colonies. An idea popped into his head. It wasn't out of the ordinary to request allies- especially from those peopleas well.
He quickly drew up a letter and placed it in an envelope and sealed the envelope with wax and his seal. This was a letter of top priority. Even though it would reach the men in a few minutes due to his proximity to its capital in his beautiful Quebec, France wished to show some flair and elegance. Francis called for a servant and he took the letter to deliver it, leaving France alone in the library once again.
When the servant returned, assuring Francis that the letter had been delivered and the demands he made were going to be implemented, Francis ordered the person to pack all of his belongings.
Tomorrow he would set sail.
When Madison awoke from her nap, she heard the chaotic noise of people scrambling within the house.
Carefully, the blond jumped out of her bed (that Francis often boasted was fit for a little princess like herself) onto the cool floor and tip-toed to the door. Her steps were wobbly as she was not yet fully awake. She was lucky to have not tripped over the new, cleaner blue night gown she had apparently donned before sleeping.
'Someone changed my clothes and cleaned me up,' she thought while rubbing her eyes.
Madison pressed her ear to the door to get a better listen to the voices outside. The only thing she caught was muffled chattering that sounded slightly distressed.
"Big brother is probably rearranging the furniture again," she giggled as her bear waddled up to her.
"Hungry."
"Oh! Sorry Kumarie, I don't have any food for you now. It's getting late, so they probably are almost done preparing dinner for us. I just need a little help to get dressed. Mind lifting me up?"
Kumarie crouched to allow the small girl to get up onto her back and reach up to turn the door handle. Once the mission was completed, she noticed the maid who always checked on her after her naps walk on by. She was a nice lady; at least that's was what Madison thought as the maid, seeing she was awake, picked the girl up and dressed her in a fancy dress. Francis couldn't stand being informal at dinners, even amongst family members.
The strangest part to this all for the girl was the fact she was wearing a fancier dress than usual. She could tell because this one seemed puffier and had elaborate details, like bows.
Madison only wore these dresses when Francis was going to leave. Sadly, the conversation when they had dinner proved his too soon departure. The only reply Madison could come up with was 'have a safe trip!' while she forced a smile.
Threads were beginning to fray and the girl cried herself to sleep.
Morning arrived faster than usual for the Frenchman as he set out for the docks. He refused to bid farewell to his colony as the last face of hers he wanted to remember was her smile, no matter how forced it was.
Today was the day he leaves his little sister alone for what seems to be an eternity.
Fate is such a cruel mistress. Cruel indeed.
A/N: My starting point is, as I stated 1689. I could have gone earlier but I don't want to dwell on the aspect of war too much in this fic. This is going to be a romance but it'll take a while before I actually get to the pairing I assume you all want to see.
Oh and I hope you all pay attention to all that foreshadowing. I don't want any of you to get a heart attack when you figure it out too late.
Translations:
Ma petite cherie - my little dear
Mon ange - my angel
Ma petite chou - my little cabbage
I'll try to clear some things here if it wasn't too obvious from the story:
1. France's methods of colonization were different than Britain's. In every new settlement, there would be few people to populate the place. Apparently this was to get people more used to this land and the same can be said vice versa. That and they were very hands on with their colonies unlike Britain who allowed their colonies to have some control in their own matters.
Another differentiation was besides business opportunities, the French wanted to spread Roman Catholicism and French culture. Often missionaries would travel with explorers and fur traders to spread their faith. As for the French culture, France wanted their colonies to be truly French and that they should be proud of their French culture. This way of colonization was too expensive.
2. I hate using online translators as they aren't very accurate. As such, I won't even attempt to have my characters speaking to each other only in their respective languages. I might do blurbs here and there but they'll only be endearments at most. I really should have continued French in junior high but no, I had to be difficult and learn Spanish. That said, I really am not too fond of seeing too much text in a foreign language. It does make the characters more realistic but ehhh, this will have to do.
So whenever Francis and Madison converse, it is in French. It's English between Arthur and Madison and Alfred. As for Francis and Arthur, they talk in their own language but can understand each other (even though they hate the idea of knowing each other's language).
3. The revolution I was referring to was the Glorious Revolution (1688 - 1689). With a revolution, as well as the Nine Year' War, in Europe, I doubt England is in the right of mind at the moment.
4. From what I have read up on, America should be called New England because he lived under England's rule. I decided to make it easier and not change his name as the whole name thing is messed up as is. Certain parts of the US, as well as Canada, were ruled by the Spanish, British and English and I'm pretty sure they named their colonies differently.
If there are any mistakes in this chapter, feel free to tell me.
Comments, questions and criticisms are welcome. If you wish to flame me, nothing is stopping you there but at least make it good. Nothing brightens my day more than some good flames.