A/N at bottom

1757

Francis Bonnefoy was never one to enjoy the quiet, but even he enjoyed a nice walk every now and then. Taking a break from the gunshots for a walk in the Canadian wilderness was just what Francis needed. He brushed the branches out of his face as he hummed to himself. Matthew had calmed down significantly in the past few months, and since Francis loathed seeing Matthew unhappy,all was well in Francis' war. And to be fair, he was kicking the Englishman's ass. His prior victories had kept him well ahead of England, and if things kept doing like they currently were, then he wouldn't be seeing much of England anymore.

"Well Frog, it's a pleasure to see you out here." Oh. Never mind. Francis hated to see that blond, green-eyed, bushy-eyebrowed short piece of absolute shit appear from the shrub, but alas there he was.

"What do you want, Angleterre?" Francis he knew he hated the French version of his name, but he knew he would hate this even more. "What's a black sheep like you doing in the woods?" Arthur looked like he wanted Francis' head on a pike, but he refrained from anger.

"Well, frog, I'm here because I've reached into the goodness of my heart to warn you."

"I'm sorry, you want to warn me?" The audacity of the god damn Brit!

"Well, I'm just saying. You might want to start saying your goodbyes to what's-his-name."

"You god damned bastard. You don't even know his fucking name? How dare you! It's Matthew, okay? Matthew Matthew Ma- Matthew!" Matthew chose that moment to walk through the clearing.

"Hi Francis! I was just looking for- oh." Matthew stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the Brit. England in return stared back. Matthew twitched slightly but refused to show any sign of fear or weakness. England smiled with no hint of happiness in his eyes.

"Hello Matthew."

"Hello England."

"Please." England glanced towards Francis. "Call me Arthur."

Francis looked like he was ready to kill Arthur, or possibly himself. Matthew couldn't contain his next question.

"Why?"

"Because," Arthur smiled, a malicious one this time. "I think we will be seeing a lot of each other pretty soon." Francis' eyes flared. "Well, it appears that Francis (He said his name with a hint of anger) is scared of the truth, so I must be going. I'll be seeing you!" And with that, Arthur retraced his steps and disappeared into the trees.

"Francis... what did he mean?"

"I-I'm sorry you had to see that."

"Francis, what did he mean?"

"You know not to listen to him."

"What truth are you scared of? What are you keeping from me?"

It was just like Arthur to do this. Come and make Matthew and him fight while he has god-knows-what in store. That... bastard.

"I have nothing to say about him. The war has been going well. Don't let him throw you off."

"What did he say before I walked in? Why were you saying my name?"

"Matthew, I have nothing to say. Everything is fine."

"You know, you keep saying that, but- you know what? I have to go." He turned and ran out of the clearing.

Francis, left behind, merely sighed, cursed Arthur's name under his breath, and followed Matthew's trail.

A/N

That's the chapter! As always, criticisms are greatly appreciated! Next chapter next Friday!