MUCH thanks to MadMentalPersonInTheEmoCorner for favoriting this story! You are so amazing. Ok guys here's chapter 4. I'm really getting into this one, I thought I was going to completely disregard it in favour of Austria's Musical but I haven't and I'm glad I haven't. Well, let's get this party started, R & R people. I don't own.

Chapter 4: Purple Hyacinth

Arthurine sighed as she reclined in her chair by the old-fashioned fire place, Jean, asleep on the couch, mumbled something, but stayed asleep. Arthurine couldn't help but smile at him.

She had never thought of Francis as closed-off, no, that was her job. Jean on the other hand gave even Arthurine a run for her money. A self proclaimed misanthropist Jean was even more abrasive than Arthurine, though thankfully he wasn't snarky like she was.

Olivia on the other hand, was even more outgoing than Francis, albeit in a much less sexual manner. Currently the two of them were in the kitchen making dinner. Francis had been assured of Olivia's cooking skill when she had made cupcakes the other day. "She really is your opposite Angleterra!" He cried, "these cupcakes are exquisite!"

"Oh you," Olivia giggled, blushing, while Arthurine grumbled. She could too cook.

But she was going to have to take Francis's word for it that Olivia's cupcakes were amazing. She hadn't tried one after Jean –who was apparently an awful cook also- had leaned over and whispered, "She puts people in them. That's her secret."

Arthurine had dropped her cupcake and not touched one since. She was reasonably sure Olivia didn't put people in her cupcakes; Francis would have noticed if she had, right? And Olivia hadn't left the house except to go into the yard since she'd gotten there. So since Arthurine wasn't missing any of her part-time servants or the postman she was reasonably sure Jean had been lying or was misinformed. Reasonably. Besides, how did one put people in cupcakes?

Either way she decided to err on the side of caution.

After dinner (which even Arthurine had to admit was divine) Olivia decided to go straight to bed. She'd gotten up at the crack of dawn, getting Arthurine and Jean up along with her.

Jean had grumbled and given her his darkest look, but was used to Olivia waking him up with the sunrise and other then that made no complaints.

Arthurine had outright tried to kill her. Olivia smiled, she had high blood pressure, maybe Arthurine's was low and that's why she had trouble getting up in the morning? Maybe she was just a grouch? Either way Olivia found her blonde self's attempts to murder her with a book unbearably cute.

She'd decided to let Francis sleep in. She knew Jean well and Arthurine was her other self so she felt like she knew her too. But she barely knew Jean's other self at all and Olivia was secretly uncomfortable around people she didn't know well, despite how peppy she always acted. It was just that, an act. Only Jean, Jake (her America), and James (her Canada) were aware of this though. And she was pretty sure only Jean remembered. That was why she loved him so much; he always remembered every little thing she told him, down to the last detail. This meant that telling Jean things occasionally came back to bite Olivia on the butt later on but she wouldn't change him for the world.

Humming to herself Olivia got changed into a long pink nightgown Arthurine had lent her and climbed into bed in the guest room she was using. Laying her pink head down on the pillow Olivia very quickly fell asleep…

"You know, you were right. Love doesn't last," Olivia commented gleefully, kicking at the ashes of what used to be a pyre, "at least her love didn't." She laughed, a bubbly giggle that seemed out of place in this desolate surrounding.

Kneeling in the dust Jean didn't look up, "why Olivia?" He asked, his voice barely a whisper, "why the only girl I ever loved?"

Olivia frowned; he'd called her by her human name. Jean never did that. She thought it would make her happy that he was addressing her so informally but it actually made her feel even more distant from him.

Why?" Her smile vanished, as did her good mood. She wanted to scream at him, 'why did you like her better than me?! What made her so special?! Why can't you see that I love you?! Why was she the only person you ever looked at?!'

"I don't know what you're talking about Jean," she replied in a sickly-sweet voice, plastering her smile back on her face, "she broke the law, my King punished her, I don't make the rules, I follow them."

"Liar, you were behind this."

'You're exactly right, she was in my way, and I removed her. It's your own fault. If you hadn't dismissed me and broken my heart I wouldn't have had to kill her. But you ignored me, as always.' She thought.

Out loud she said, "Why would I do that dearie?"

Jean glared at her with such venom it made even Olivia, who didn't scare easy, stumble back, hands instinctively tightening on her pink parasol.

"Because you're a pathetic excuse for a person who doesn't care about anyone or anything but herself." He spat, a look of utter disgust and contempt on his face.

Olivia's blue eyes widened, Jean would never know how much his words hurt her, 'that's not true, I did this because I love you and I want to protect you. She'd die anyway Jean, she'd die and leave you all alone even without my help, she was only human, I just want what's best for you, don't you see?'

Masking her emotions as she always did, with bubbly high-spirits, Olivia pouted dramatically, "aww! That's a bit mean Jeanie!"

His glare, if possible, intensified, "don't you dare call me that. You have no right!"

Olivia didn't know what to say to that, she opened and closed her mouth a few times before taking a few steps forwards until she was close enough to reach out and touch his hair or shoulder if she wanted to, "I'm not trying to hurt you Jean." She said softly.

Jean rose, they were very close, their chest's nearly touching but Jean was significantly taller, Olivia had to crane her neck back to look into his ruby eyes. There was no more anger or even hate in Jean's eyes just a deep, quiet sadness that made Olivia's heart clench.

She would have preferred the hatred if it meant Jean wasn't sad. She hated, hated, hated when Jean was sad.

Olivia was actually a pretty emotional person, the reason she acted so cheery and upbeat all the time was because she was desperately trying to cheer the chronically depressed Jean up. It worked occasionally and Olivia lived for those times.

Jean leaned closer so he could look directly into Olivia's eyes, he was so close he could count every one of her pink eyelashes or the freckles on her cheeks. "You could've fooled me," he replied.

Jean walked off, Olivia's legs trembled, her knees buckled and then it was her turn to fall to her knees in the ashes that was once Jeanne d'Arc's funeral pyre. She pitched forwards again and, dropping her parasol, caught herself with her hands. Her finger's curled in the dust.

"Dammit."…

Olivia's blue eyes snapped open. Sitting up, she felt something on her cheeks, touching one, she discovered it was wet, "why did I dream about that, it was so long ago," she whispered. She shook herself and lay back down, shutting her eyes. Though she tried to go to sleep Olivia couldn't help but think about what had happened after that…

A week, that's how long she'd lasted before she'd run to Jean, begging his forgiveness.

"I'm sorry, I just didn't want to see you get hurt, I didn't understand why you liked her so much better than me. But now I do, you were right, I'm awful Jean. But I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I just didn't want to lose my only friend to someone else!"

Jean had walked up to her slowly; Olivia's breath had caught in her throat, for a brief moment she feared he might strike her. Olivia wasn't afraid of Jean, she was the stronger of the two and had been for quite some time, and even if she wasn't, Olivia wasn't sure she could ever bring herself to be afraid of Jean. But she didn't know what she'd do if he tried to hurt her.

Jean reached a hand towards her. Olivia flinched and squeezed her eyes shut but didn't back away. Jean's hand ruffled her hair. "Liv," he said, calling her by her nickname for the first and last time, "if you're worried about me or what I'm doing just say so next time, alright?"

In a daze, Olivia nodded, right then she would have agreed to just about anything he said, "Alright Jean, I will." And just like that Jean forgave her.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes as he walked off, "not that I care or anything," he assured her.

A smile split Olivia's face; she ran after him and jumped, swinging off his arm. Jean groaned and complained under his breath, but didn't shake her off, he never did. Olivia glowed with happiness, they were back to the way they usually were…

Olivia smiled and turned over. That story had a happy ending but it wasn't going to help her get back to sleep. Olivia wasn't a particularly light sleeper, to put it mildly, but once awoken she found it nearly impossible to get back to sleep, which was why she got up so early each morning.

She rolled over onto her other side to glance at the clock; it read 12:34am. Olivia sighed; the others might not even be in bed yet. She hoped Jean was though. There was one way Olivia could get back to sleep.

Padding down the hall she knocked once, softly before opening the door a crack, "Jean?"

France's other self looked up from the book he was reading, "Olivia?" He hadn't called her 'England' or 'Liv' since they made up after Joan of Arc and now just called her 'Olivia' or 'woman' or simply 'hey you.' Needless to say, she preferred the first one.

Olivia slipped inside the room and moved over to her fellow country. Jean marked his page and set the book on the shelf beside his double bed. "Bad dream?" He asked in an unconcerned voice.

Olivia smiled; "in a… manner of speaking…"

Jean rolled his eyes and moved the corner of the blanket back so Olivia could crawl onto the bed beside him, "fine, since I know you won't quit bugging me until I say yes, but this is the last time ever, understand?" He said, just like he said every time.

"Okay. This is the last time ever," Olivia agreed, just like she did every time.

Jean snorted, but didn't push the point. He turned off the bedside light and lay down. Instantly Olivia scooted closer to him and laid her head down on his bare chest. Jean wrinkled his nose. He hated physical contact, a fact which Olivia well knew and had spent the last several decades trying to cure him of. He hated it to the point where it was physically uncomfortable to have someone he didn't know even brush his arm. Olivia, whom he knew better than anyone else in the world, was much less uncomfortable. But that didn't mean he liked it.

He looked down at Olivia who had immediately fallen back into a deep sleep. The only way she could return to sleep after being awoken was for her to be with him. Jean almost smiled. However if physical contact got her to shut up and fall asleep, it might just be worth it.

D'aww. This chapter ended up being all about Jean and Olivia, at least you know a little more about how they really feel about each other now. Say what you will about Olivia but she does genuinely love Jean. Anyway, I named this chapter 'Purple Hyacinth' because it means 'I'm sorry/Please forgive me & sorrow.'