"Well, that was certainly an interesting story, Écosse," France said, grinning toothily.
"You'd think so, wouldn't you?" Scotland was still not exactly pleased about any part of this situation.
"But I am curious: when did you have Tormod?"
More Scottish glaring. "Around the 800's. Hard to tell the exact date. You know, things were awfully busy in those days, what with the wars and all."
France could see the faintest pink tinge on the tips of Scotland's ears. How delightful.
"And Norway got ahold of him how, exactly?"
'The usual. Politics. I'm sure you're aware of how that works, ain't ya, Franny?"
Of course. That's what they were calling it these days. Politics. France was an expert in politics.
Although, coming in that tone of voice, it could easily have been a challenge…
"And what do you mean by that, mon cher?" Well, he had a very good idea what, exactly, Scotland was implying. As if it were a bad thing. Frankly, anything he did before marriage was none of Scotland's business. He was quite tempted to not tell him the incident during WWII. But he had promised, and so he would.
"I am implyin' that you've been around long enough to realize that politics must precede what we want."
It was all true. "Good. That is not what I thought you were going to say."
Scotland raised an eyebrow. "And what did you think I was going to say?"
"Well, I know that you are a jealous person."
"Perhaps I am. But is that such a bad thing?"
"Not when it comes to-"
"Franny!"
France shrugged. He was comfortable talking about it, even if his partner was not.
"Anyway, I believe you promised me a story."
"I did, did I not?"
Oh, this would be fun.