-------Paris, France June 14th 1945-------
Finally back in Paris-and dressed in his own clothes- Francis was looking over the files on the damage done by the Axis powers when there was a soft knock on the door.
"Come in."
A second later Alfred walked in carrying a package wrapped in brown paper. He looked severely shaken, more than most of the other nations who had been involved in the war.
"What happened?" Alfred hesitated for a second, bracing himself.
"I'm sorry Francis…Ivan found Aliz on the list of those who died at Auschwitz." Alfred gestured to the package he had just set down on Francis' desk. "And he found that when searching the camp."
Hands shaking slightly Francis removed the string and pulled back the brown paper to reveal the blood stained uniform that Aliz had been wearing the day she had switched places with him. Instantly Francis' eyes filled with tears. If there was one thing that could prove Aliz wasn't coming back it was this.
Alfred put a hand on Francis' shoulder, feeling the Frenchman's silent sobs under his palm.
"Francis, Aliz left you a letter…if that helps…" Alfred muttered, pulling an envelope from the folds of the coat. Francis glanced up at Alfred before talking the letter and opening it, briefly noticing the name on the outside. Aliz V. Bonnefoy. It made sense though; using her name wouldn't have alerted Gilbert and Ludwig to the switch.
Francis,
First off, I want you to know that my death was natural, or as natural as is possible for a nation. It is also somewhat of a release, as I've been sick since June 6th, the day your friends landed at Normandy. I took your place because I knew I wouldn't last and you needed to survive so your nation could.
I don't regret my decision. When I found out what was really going on, I wanted nothing more than to stop it. I know you won't forget me.
Your loving cousin,
Aliz Vichy Bonnefoy
-------Present day-------
The letter had helped a little, though it still had taken months for Francis to fully recover. Francis was also pleased that Gilbert and Ludwig had to answer to the atrocities they had committed during the war.
-------Nuremberg Germany, November 21st 1945------
Francis glanced around the courtroom as he took his seat next between Arthur and Matthew. Ivan was sitting next to Arthur, and Alfred was on Ivan's other side. Across the room, Gilbert and Ludwig were sitting in their own box, closely watched over by Vash and Elizaveta.
The rest of the countries were sitting at one end of the courtroom behind a short fence.
The rustle of paper brought Francis back to the present and a few seconds later Arthur had officially opened the trial.
"Ludwig, as the German Reich, you stand accused of participation in a common plan or conspiracy for the accomplishment of crime against peace, planning, initiating and waging wars of aggression, war crimes, and crimes against humanity. Gilbert, as the Nation of Prussia, you are charged as above as well as with the torture and murder of a nation. Do you have anything to say in your own defense?"
"I was under orders." Ludwig muttered.
"Besides that, they deserved it." Gilbert added.
Arthur raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ivan. Ivan nodded and climbed off the bench, rolled a TV to the center of the room and pressed play. As the screen flickered to life images of starved people wearing black and white striped uniforms, and pits filled with bodies, so thin the ribs were visible.
"Even them?"
Ludwig glanced down, unable to answer. Gilbert however was anything but remorseful.
"Damn right." Alfred looked up.
"You're heartless Gilbert." Gilbert smirked. Francis glared at him.
"You couldn't hear them…I could hear and feel my people. When you were torturing me, I was screaming for them as well as myself."
Arthur glanced around before speaking again.
"Based on the evidence presented, I can conclude that you are both guilty on all the charges. Ludwig you will have to return all captured territory and pay to help liberated countries get back on their feet. As for Gilbert…"
"I have a suggestion." Immediately all eyes turned to Francis. "Since Gilbert took the life of another nation, it seems only fair that he shouldn't be a nation either…"
"WHAT!"
There was a gentle murmur as Arthur, Alfred, Ivan, and Matthew all considered the legitimacy of Francis' suggestion. A minute later Arthur spoke again.
"Francis is right Gilbert. From now on you will be known as East Germany and will be under Russia's care."
As Francis and the others gathered up their things, Prussia called across the room.
"Ich sehe, dass Sie andere Leute zu Ihrer Rettung wieder Francis kommen lassen. Es ist ein Mitleid, das Sie nie im Stande sein werden, ein durch sich selbst zu gewinnen."
Though most of the nations in the room couldn't understand German, most of them knew from Gilbert's tone that whatever he said to Francis wasn't flattery. Francis stiffened.
"J'ai gagné tout seul avant l'Allemagne de l'Est."
-------Present day-------
Francis shivered as a chill wind blew across the cemetery, pulling his over cape closer to his body. Straightening slightly, Francis pulled the rose he always carried from inside his coat and placed it gently on the grave, whispering a prayer in French.
Straightening up, Francis brushed the snow off his pants and headed out of the cemetery.
From her grave, Aliz watched Francis for a minute, smiling sadly, before picking up the rose and vanishing into the gently falling snow.
-------Omake-------
-------Paris underground resistance headquarters, July 2, 1941-------
Alizea Ile de France Bonnefoy, a golden blond with an odd little curl and cerulean eyes, had heard the whispers. She knew that France had been forced to surrender; however she had also heard the leaders of the resistance discussing a plan to help the nation get back on its feet. A plan that also seemed to involve getting a certain person back to Paris unnoticed.
About a week ago a small team had left for southern France, and if the whispered conversations Alizea had heard were anything to go by, would be getting back that day.
Today was the first time Alizea had ever been in the main meeting room, and she suspected it was because of the plan from a week ago. Even though she represented Ile de France, Alizea was never allowed into the meetings, usually picking everything up from friends or overheard conversations.
The meeting room wasn't that different from the rest of the house they were operating out of except for a slightly more ornate table and chairs, and heavier curtains on the windows. Besides hers, three other chairs were occupied.
A soft knock on the door caught everyone's attention.
"Come in."
A second later the door opened and three people entered, all of them wearing traveling cloaks. Two had their hoods down and Alizea recognized them as a set of twins that worked on the security team. Alizea was unsure of the third until he lowered his hood. Alizea had had a feeling she knew who was coming, but there was no doubt now. Only one person had that honey-blond hair and cerulean blue eyes; Francis Bonnefoy, the Republic of France.
"Papa!"
A second later Alizea had stood and crossed the room and tackled Francis.
"Alizea, what are you doing here?" Francis asked steadying himself from the impact.
"Keeping an eye on the people of Paris from the shadows. The resistance took me in after the government fled Paris and took you with them."
Before Francis could respond a soft female voice interrupted them.
"I don't mean to interrupt, but can we get introductions out of the way before you get too wrapped up in family affairs?" Francis looked slightly ashamed.
"Yes, continue please."
"Thank you." Alizea glanced over at the speaker. She was a dirty blond, green eyed young woman who reminded Alizea of one of Francis' friends from England. "The first thing you need to know before we introduce ourselves is that we don't use last names. This is so our families and relatives can't be targeted. My name is Jeanne and I'm the chosen leader of this organization."
"This is Mathieu, he's in charge of our espionage team," Jeanne said gesturing to the brown haired male on her right. "And that's Jacky; she's the head of security." The black haired woman on Jeanne's other side inclined her head.
"The four of us are also the only ones who know that you are the personification of France; I would like it to stay that way."
"I understand."
"Then we'll leave you to catch up."
Jeanne, Mathieu, and Jacky all stood and left. As soon as the three had left Francis turned back to Alizea.
"I know you're safe, but what about your sisters?"
"They're safe in England, the government managed to get them out before they fled. But you have no idea how hard it is to get eighteen girls out of the country."
Francis sighed with relief. At least the rest of his family was safe.
-------Paris, France, July 14, 1940-------
When Alizea had woken up that morning, she hadn't expected to see a single red rose and a folded note resting on her pillow.
Curious, Alizea sat up in bed, picked up the note and opened it.
Alizea
I figured it's about time you learned how to defend yourself, I'm downstairs.
-Francis
Alizea's heart leapt. She dressed quickly, making sure to cover her arms. If Alizea's suspicions about which weapon she would be learning with were right, she needed as much cover as possible.
Grabbing her gloves from her dresser, Alizea hurried out of her room and down the hall toward the basement command center.
When Alizea opened the door, the first thing she saw was a girl with short dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. She was talking to Francis who currently had his fingers pressed to his temple.
"Alaine Normandy Bonnefoy, how did you manage to cross the channel undetected?" Francis asked, both amusement and admonishment in his voice.
"I borrowed a skill of yours."
"Which one, mon cherie?" Francis seemed to have forgotten for a moment that Alaine wasn't supposed to be in Paris.
"Cross-dressing." Francis started to reply, but was cut off.
"Alaine!" Alizea had hurried across the room to hug her sister. "Shouldn't you be in England?"
"I can take care of myself." Alaine glanced at Francis. "And you might not have gotten your birthday present otherwise."
"I don't want to admit it, but she's probably right about the second one," Francis said picking something long, thin, and wrapped in what Alizea recognized as the flag of Ile de France off the table next to him.
"And it was safer for this to travel with someone."
Alizea stepped forward to pull her flag off the end of the package Francis was offering to her. As the flag fell away a handle shaped like the fleur de lis, and a leather scabbard were revealed. Alizea gasped.
"I-is this really mine?" Francis smiled.
"I promised to show you how to handle a sword, and today that promise becomes your birthday gift. Jeanne said we can use the old dining room upstairs." Francis glanced at his other daughter. "I assume you brought your sword as well?"
Alaine laughed.
"I needed something to practice with, and I'm only a year away from being eighteen." Francis sighed.
"Point taken, let's go."
When they reached the old dining room, after Francis stopped off to collect his sword, Francis capped the swords with rubber protectors.
For the next two hours Francis had Alizea and Alaine go over basic foot positions and striking moves. Once they knew the basics, Alizea and Alaine took turns running basic drills with Francis. It was during these drills that Alizea noticed a dark stain near the tip of the blade. However she refrained from asking until Mathieu called them for lunch.
While Alizea dashed downstairs Alizea hung back.
"Papa, I couldn't help but notice the stain on your sword." Francis turned.
"I guess you're old enough to know. When I was still a teenager I accidentally killed another nation and I haven't been able to get the blood off my sword since." Francis swallowed before continuing. "It serves as a reminder to watch myself."
"I understand."
They were both silent for a minute before Alizea spoke up again, crossing to gently take Francis's arm.
"Let's get some lunch."
-------Author's Notes-------
Author - Phoenix / Beta - Shadow
Translations:
Gilbert: I see you're letting other people come to your rescue again Francis. It's a pity you'll never be able to win one by yourself.
Francis: I've won on my own before now East Germany.
Please provide corrections on those lines if you speak the language, because I'm sure that they aren't correct.