Trials and Tribulations

Chapter One ~ Children's games

A boy sat in a field accompanied by another foreign boy just a year or two older than him. It was his secret hideaway that he visited when he grew tiresome of London's bustle and noise, his companion lay back, golden curls like a girls spread delicately in a halo around his head and his royal blue eyes shut tight. He better know how lucky he was, the boy had shown no one this place not even his brothers, he better feel privileged.

"Hey...Francis?" The eyes snapped open as the resting boy peered at the other inquisitively. The boy bit his lips and began to fiddle with his fingers uncertainly before opening his mouth as though he wanted to say something but then deciding against it and closing them again, he repeated this a few times until the resting boy couldn't help but chuckle,

"Don't do that Artie, you look like a goldfish," he sat up and balanced his weight on his elbows, "What's up?"

A flush crept along the boys cheeks and he scowled at his lap before finally blurting out, "Angus said that you won't want to speak to me anymore when you go into the big school, he said you'll find new friends and I should just stop talking to you before I embarrass you and…and…" The elder boy rolled his eyes, Artie's brothers were always winding him up and Angus was the most repetitive suspect when it came to him being upset. He gave a withering smile and ran his hand through his long hair before saying,

"Your brother doesn't know anything… I'll be your friend even when I'm in that school and we can still come by here, right? Artie, je vous promets." The younger blinked his emerald eyes in a rapid manner as though he couldn't comprehend the other's pretty simple words, even if half of them were in his native language that he had still not got around to learning.

"And… And you won't tell any of your new friends about here? Ever?"

"Of course, now calm down Artie," the boy led back again and closed his eyes, eager to feel heat soak his face, the other simply watched the older's eyelids twitch under the suns beams and feel more at ease, as though a burden had been lifted off his shoulders.

Francis Bonnefoy was the only child of a young wealthy French couple that had moved to England for a promotion his entrepreneur father had been offered, he lived in one of the upper scale penthouse apartment with his parents and his grandmother that he adored. Francis was an artist from an early age, a trait that his Mother and Grandmother were both eager to encourage despite the urges from his Father to follow in his footsteps and become infatuated with business. However, it was blatant from when Francis was a toddler that pitching sales ideas and dealing with statistics would not fulfill him, he needed to be painting or dancing or creating a culinary masterpiece in order to feel completely satisfied.

To his Mother's delight, he was born with angelic features and was destined to be a heartbreaker from the day he was born. His almond eyes were a rich and intense royal blue and his hair fell in soft blond waves that framed a chiseled face in an effortless perfection. He was their pride and joy and they had no reason to keep this a secret from anyone. Of course, he loved his parents very much, however, he had a compelling admiration for his Grandmother.

She was bedridden and forced to leave France to come live with them when there was no one left to take care of her, her English was very limited and she couldn't leave her room, however, she seemed to be able to turn any situation into a laughable one. She allowed Francis to lie on the bottom of her bed and vent to his hearts content, no matter how trivial the subject may be, she would listen feigning intention and give her undivided attention before offering advice or simply sympathy.

Arthur Kirkland was the youngest child of a young single Mother of three children and one adopted child who had lived in London all his life in a simple house on a scruffy council estate with his four siblings and ever exhausted Mother. She had been 'messed around' when she was younger and resulted with three sons from three different Fathers from three different countries. Angus, the eldest one who hailed from Scotland, Gareth the middle child from Wales, Eoghan the child she adopted from Northern Ireland and then Arthur who was born and raised in London. Arthur had always been cynical and hot tempered with a crushing self- confidence issue that excessively tired him out. His Mother tried her hardest with the four boys who all proved to be a handful in some way or another, she was all the boys had, no Uncles, Aunties, Grandparents visited them or wanted anything to do with them.

Like his blood brothers, he was born with a heavy brow and stunning wide green eyes that mirrored their Mother's, he had unruly cropped blond hair that scruffily stood out at odd angles, he was lean and had a pale complexion. They were all interesting to look at but in no means were they typically attractive, he had fluid movements that made him impelling to watch and his expression was always difficult to read. Most of the time he brooded over what his brothers did or said, although he loved every member of his family unconditionally and imperatively he felt closer to his elder brother Gareth than he did his own Mother.

Although Angus was the eldest, Gareth had taken it upon himself to act as the responsible father figure that the boys lacked and forbade any of his siblings to bother their Mother. He was firm, hardworking and took no crap. He liked all his brothers secretly though even if they teased him mercilessly. Angus was quick to jump to his aid if there were other people giving him a hard time and Eoghan sat and listened if he was stressed out. There was nothing much that Arthur could offer in return other than not complain if there wasn't clean clothes waiting for him every morning or his Mother wasn't waiting for him after school.

"Artie? Are you there?"

Arthur held his breath and pinched himself, the sharp pain hit him quickly and he let out a reassured sigh before smiling inwardly. He had hoped he wasn't going to be alone, his brothers had collected him from his school gate and he dashed home in a hurry, he quickly wolfing down the sandwich Gareth had made him and hurriedly changed clothes from his dirtied uniform before promptly leaving his brothers with a simple excuse that he was going to meet a friend and left them no time to retaliate before he was out of their sight.

"Yeah, over here."

A head full of golden hair turned and Francis grinned as his eyes fell on the lone boy. Arthur couldn't help but note he adorned his new school uniform, the tie and the shirt didn't suit him, he looked too uneasy in it, Francis was more suited to free flowing clothes, something he could move around freely in. The French boy noticed Arthur looking warily at him, throwing his head back he reeled in laughter, his hands went up to his tie and in a quick and fluid movement he whipped it off. Still chuckling, he grinned at Arthur and said,

"I know right… You should have seen them all, Artie, we all look so silly," he looked better now, more like Francis. Arthur gave a small smile before murmuring,

"Did you make any new friends?" This was a delicate topic, Francis knew that, he would have to tread carefully in order not to upset his best friend but he didn't want to lie. Instead, he vaguely settled on,

"Well… There were these two other boys in my form who I kind of hung around with… Enough about my boring school, how was everything at your school?"

"Angus said he saw you wandering around with them," Arthur sounded casual but it was obvious he was anxious to hear about these 'new friends', about how they got on and if Francis had more fun with them than he did with Arthur.

"Yeah they're okay," Francis gave a crooked grin as the other's face fell almost immediately, "But they were really boring compared to you."

Arthur almost let out a sigh or relief but refrained from doing so, perhaps the other boy was simply being tactful as to not hurt his feelings. All Arthur was certain about was that he had been looking forward to this part of the day all throughout lessons, it felt empty without Francis at school, his new teacher had already yelled at him for not paying attention in class and the other kids were dull, unable to light up the place like Francis could.

"So...How was your day, Artie?"

((A/N: THIS COULD BE THE START OF SOMETHING NEWWWW~

Ahem. Anyway. I had this idea in the car when I was going to work with my Mam and it'd been bugging me ever since, I decided that if I didn't write it down then it would eventually turn to brain-crack and then just… go away which I didn't want to happen. All in all, I'm quite happy with how this turned out but there's more to come, I promise! If there are any criticisms then I'd be grateful for the feedback, thank you!))