"…our…"
An ache to Arthur's jaw meant he was regaining his senses again. Still in darkness, the Englishman felt like he woke up after a long surgical operation that required a whole tank of anesthetic gas. His limbs twitched slightly as they eventually regained their feeling. He could even feel someone stroking his short blonde hair.
"…il pla… eve…"
The voice seemed to be swimming inside Arthur's head. He squeezed his eyes tight before slowly lifting his eyelids and meeting the gaze of a blurry face.
"Mon amour… réveillez-vous s'il vous plait…" The accent became more distinct. It was French no doubt about it and by the time Arthur's eyes regained their focus, Francis looked down on him with a subdued expression. Arthur froze for a moment. If Francis was looking down on him, it could only mean one thing; the Englishman's head rested on the Frenchman's lap. Letting out a yelp, he threw himself forward into an upright position and spun around on the couch placing his feet on the floor.
"What the bloody hell do you think you're playing at frog! You were going to molest me, weren't you!" He screeched at the unfazed Francis, who turned his head in response to his outburst.
"Welcome back to zee world of zee living Art'ur," He said nonchalantly.
"Dude, you're back!" Alfred beamed his trademark million watt smile and leant forward from his place on the couch. "Glad to see you're back to normal!"
"How are you feeling?" Matthew interjected softly while hugging Kumajiro. Arthur glared at the Frenchman for a moment before turning away and exhaling. His hand floated to the side of his head.
"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired, that's all," Arthur said.
"Do you need a drink at all?" Matthew asked again. The Englishman threaded his fingers together and placed his chin on his hands.
"I think I'll have one just to clear my head," His expression did seem tired, prompting Francis to stand from the couch and made his way to the kitchen.
"I'll see if I 'ave any tea in zee cupboards," Francis said, leaving the North American brothers to watch Arthur get used to his surroundings again. He could see they were concerned for him; tiredness seemed to make Arthur feel out of it. He had to give them a sign to assure them he was all right so he tilted his head to face the concerned pair.
"I said I'm fine. I'm not going to suddenly faint," Arthur reassured them again.
"Um…" Alfred glanced at the floor until his eyes drifted back to the Briton. "How was it; being possessed by a ghost? Does it… hurt?"
Arthur shook his head. "Not really. I can't feel any pain, nor do I know anything of what I'm doing while a ghost or spirit possesses my body. For example, the last thing I remember before Jeanne possessed me was being in my house with you two, staring into the candle flame. I can't recall where we went or what we did even if I tried because she was in control of me the whole time."
This provoked a mischievous grin from Alfred. "So you don't remember you and Francis getting a little close?"
Arthur blinked as though fully awake and aware what he just said. A sense of dread crept inside of him. "What are you implying?"
"Woah, dude! You didn't know that you and Francis were playing tonsil tennis?" The American laughed much to the embarrassment of Matthew who just placed a hand on his face.
"What?" Arthur stared at the pair in horror. Francis' timing couldn't be more impeccable as he carried the tea set into the room and set it on the coffee table. All in one swift movement, Arthur yanked the Frenchman's collar towards him so that he could see the anger burning in the Englishman's emerald eyes. "Francis. What did you do to me?" The Frenchman blinked in confusion and wished he could look away but that could mean a painful death by whatever Arthur could do at the moment.
"I don't understand! What's gotten into you? Are you possessed by anozer ghost?" He stammered but this only earned him another jerk from Arthur pulling on his shirt.
"Don't give me that trollop you wanker! You took advantage of me while I was indisposed!"
"But Arthur, you said that Jeanne had control of your body for nearly a day," Matthew began, trying to pacify the situation. "There's no way you could have prevented her doing whatever she did in your body."
"And I'd like to add zat she wanted to kiss me aussi," Francis interjected.
"Why didn't anyone stop me?" Arthur screeched and pushed the Frenchman away so he could make his way upstairs. "Now I need to wash my mouth out with soap and bleach just to get rid of the scent of frog!" He stomped up the stairs, leaving Matthew giving Alfred an annoyed glare while Francis realized that Arthur had found out about what they both did in the living room, before Joan went to heaven.
!
Arthur furiously scrubbed everywhere inside his mouth with a toothbrush he grabbed from his suitcase; teeth, gums, tongue and anywhere else he didn't intend to miss. The white toothpaste frothed around his lips, which dribbled down his chin and plopped into the porcelain white sink. And through the cleansing of whatever French bacteria lingered inside his mouth, he ranted (or in this case, spluttered) about how disgusting it was kissing Francis. How did he manage to convince Joan to engage in that detestable motion he would never know the truth. Francis would likely give a biased version of events if he asked him. Finally he spat out the toothpaste into the sink and ran the tap to scoop some of the water into his mouth. He swirled it inside his mouth and spat the water out several times until he was satisfied that he got rid of the bacteria.
"And nobody even stopped me! I specifically told Matthew and Alfred to prevent me from doing something embarrassing! Alfred I can understand not doing as I said but Matthew? I really don't know why I did it!" Arthur wiped his mouth on a hand towel, muffling his rant.
"You 'ad several reasons for letting me possess you. One of which is preventing me from messing around with your belongings."
Arthur looked up to the mirror and stared at his reflection even though he was looking at one corner of the room with the corners of his eyes. "I thought you passed over to the after life."
"Well even zough I 'ave completed my task, I wanted to sank you."
Arthur chuckled. "I can't exactly abandon a cry for help from a lady. That would be most ungentlemanly of me."
"I'm glad someone still follows zee code of chivalry in zis day and age."
"Yes well…" The Briton paused for a few seconds.
"I want to sank you for letting me bring peace to Francis. 'E really needed some comfort today. I was afraid of what would 'ave 'appened if I 'aven't 'ave intervened."
"He would most likely have sulked for a couple of days and return to his normal self-centered self afterwards."
"Non. Zis year would 'ave been different. A great tragedy would not 'ave been prevented if I 'aven't 'ave asked for your 'elp."
"A tragedy?" Arthur cocked one of his thick eyebrows. "I think you're being over the top when you say that."
"A few days after today, someone would 'ave said somesing to make Francis snap at zee next meeting 'e attends. At first, 'e would act like it didn't bozer 'im but during zee break, 'is 'eart would shatter. 'E would cry until anger is left inside of 'im. Zen 'e would 'ave got access to a weapon and smash anysing and anyone in 'is path. 'E would 'ave regressed back to zee time of zee Reign of Terror; a time of unnecessary destruction and death."
Arthur turned to the porcelain bath and stared at the empty space. Aside from the fact that he had an overall clean bathroom, he couldn't help but imagine Francis' rage. Of course Arthur had seen him angry on many occasions (him being the reason a lot of the time), however, never had he seen him angered to the extent where he would willingly destroy things. Francis wasn't the type to break things; he believed he had no right to destroy something someone else created. He has hurt and killed people sure but that was out of duty, not spite.
No. Francis was a man of creation. He was the man who said if he could, he would lay down his sword and become a farmer so he could grow food for all the starving people in his country when the rich had too much of it. He was the man who tried to see beauty in everything that lived in the ugly world full of hatred and chaos. He was the man who if he could, spread all the love in his heart and wash all the hate in the world away, leaving nothing but happiness and hope behind. Francis certainly had enough of it to give to everyone. That's when Arthur realized why he made such an impression on Joan. That's why he loved her; because she wanted to create, not destroy. That's why they shared that goodbye kiss; she wanted Francis to keep creating while he held onto the reason why he loved her so much.
Arthur finally let out a sigh at the bath. He tried to create something good with his British Empire, only for it to eventually crumble in his hands. One by one, the future he hoped to see eventually disappeared with nations under his thumb becoming independent. But it did make him wonder whether he would still be in this world if Alfred hadn't had defeated him on that rainy day.
When Alfred made fun out of Feliciano that time, what the Italian cried made him think.
"You should be grateful Britain is still alive after being an empire twice! He would have too many scars on his back and he'd disappear just like Grandpa Rome and Holy Rome!"
When he returned to the safe recluse of his home, he wept knowing he burned down his capital in return for saving his life.
"Arthur?" A soft voice came from the door, grabbing Arthur's attention. His teary eyes locked onto a perplexed Matthew.
"Oh, Matthew" The Briton uttered, blinking the escaping tears from his eyes.
"A-Are you alright?" The Canadian took a step towards Arthur. "You were talking to someone but…" he looked around the bathroom, trying to find this person until Arthur let out a chuckle and raised an assuring smile.
"Oh, no. I'm fine. I've just been thinking that's all."
"It sounded like a one sided conversation."
Arthur folded the towel he had in his hand neatly and threw it into the laundry basket new to the sink. No doubt Francis would not want to spread British germs all over his French body. "Did you come here to see whether I was all right? It's like I've said before; I'm not going to faint or suffer any other abnormalities after spiritual possession."
Matthew glanced at the turquoise floor tiles. "Yeah, kind of." He looked up at Arthur with a sincere expression. "Also when you come down, Francis wants to tell you something important."
"Is he going to explain about why he molested me while I was in possession?" Arthur's annoyance returned to his voice. He still hadn't quite forgiven Francis for kissing him. Matthew's eyes drifted away from Arthur's eye level and at the turquoise walls.
"It's something important so it's got nothing to do with that… um… kiss. Please, just listen to him when he's explaining."
Arthur let out a sigh. "Alright, I'll let him have his say. I've washed every frog germ I could out anyway." Matthew nodded and said, "okay" before making his way into the hallway. The Briton followed until he stopped and turned to the bathroom again, raising another smile. "It wasn't a problem."
"Arthur?" Matthew called again, making Arthur continue down the hallway and down the stairs. He felt Joan's presence finally vanish from the house. He knew she had taken care of business with the world of the living.
!
Long time no see! All my uni assignments are done so I can now focus on finishing some projects off including this story.
I did say this would be the last story but after writing it, I think there should be one more chapter so it's not finished yet. I also said the During or Before Part 2 or maybe the Original chapter was probably the saddest chapter in this story. After listening to Zazie's "Si J'etais Moi' goodness knows how many times and writing this, I think this chapter's pretty sad considering it had that one spot where Arthur finds out about the kiss. I cried writing the ending part of the chapter, I was told to take a break from it by my friends who I was talking to on Skype. I was reluctant but I'm glad I did what they said, so thanks you guys for preventing me from having an emotional break down.
This reminded me of a conversation I had with Animefairi about my other France and Jeanne story, "A Conversation With Jeanne". I typed this comment back to her and that made me think about a lot of things about not only France as a character but my views on him and how I see myself now:
"Thank you so much for taking the time to review this! Your comments made me very happy as I was trying to achieve the sense of seriousness with France during the Reign of Terror. I know it never mentions that (although I mentioned it in the summary) but yeah, I wanted to show the sort of pain France, not only as a person, but the whole nation was going through. I've read books upon books about the French Revolution and The Reign of Terror and it was a scary time. People had to be careful what they said in case they were perceived as a traitor just because others thought they were against the revolution.
I could go on a rant about how a lot of fans treat him like crap and say he's a rapist just because he's French but instead I'll say this: I think France is a country that's passionate in everything; art, food, romance and lots of other things. The French Revolution sums my view up perfectly; the poorer people had enough of the fact that the kings and rich nobles had too much of everything while they had too little and pretty much did something about the problem rather than sitting around doing nothing and complaining about it.
It makes me angry that a lot of fans have this shallow view of France, as a character, being a sex-crazed maniac and I think if they decided to make the effort to read French history, I predict they'll never think about him in the same way ever again. I believe (in my headcanon) that France tries to find all the beautiful things in the ugly world we live in today (of course he would try to find beautiful things in the past too). Whether this behaviour is a way of him staying optimistic or maybe it's a form of deluding himself from the cruel reality, he still searches for those things because what's the point of dwelling on things that make him sad? I've come to love France as a character since role-playing him in Hetalia role-play groups for that reason.
In fact, I think that's kind of rubbed off on me since I seem to be more hopeful than I was before. I know reality sucks but instead of moaning about it, I've begun taking those opportunities by the horns and getting pretty far with what I want to do. I guess in a weird way, I can say Hetalia (and France) has changed me for the better."
After reading back what I've said, I was amazed just how much I've changed since getting into the fandom and I guess if I hadn't have taken GCSE French, I probably wouldn't have gotten the chance to grow the way I have now. And I think I'll end this A/N here since I've started to ramble now. See you in the final chapter of "To Francis From Jeanne".