Author's note: I cannot believe I am doing this to myself. TWO multi-chaptered fics? I think I can handle this. But anyway, this idea hit me suddenly the other day and NATURALLY I had to write it down before I forgot. This will be an AU multi-chapter FrUk fic. My brain feeds me ideas and demands I write them. I can't stop it, honestly. BUT DON'T WORRY. I AM NOT ABANDONING THE OTHER FIC. Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this new one I started ^^
Also note, when Francis and his papa are speaking with each other, they're speaking French.
Characters:
Patrick - Scotland
Erin - Ireland
Gareth - Wales
Chapter 1
Francis remembered his very first time visiting his father in Britain. He was a boy of merely eight years old, and feeling very excited to be in this new country. His mother hadn't liked the idea of him leaving France, but Francis had a right to see his father. And so when he arrived at the London airport and his father went to greet him, he smiled and flung his arms around the taller man.
"Papa!" he said happily.
"My son," Louis, his father, replied with a warm smile. "Come, I'll show you to my new house."
The drive brought them out of the large city and into the countryside. Francis had his nose pressed against the car window, gazing out at the hills and the clouds. "Papa, is it ever sunny here?"
"Sometimes," he said with a chuckle. They pulled into the driveway of a small house situated between several other houses. Francis jumped out of the car and stared at awe at his surroundings. "What do you think?" Louis asked, reaching down to pick his son up.
"It's a lot smaller than our house in France," Francis said bluntly.
His father laughed. "I'd imagine it would be. Come on inside, I'll show you to your room."
Francis ran up the stairs to peer out the window. He spotted a small boy with ash blonde hair next door playing in the grass. "Papa, who's that?"
Louis walked over to look out the window with him. "Ah, that's one of my neighbors' children. The youngest, I believe. Why don't you go say hello to him? You can unpack later."
Francis nodded and bounded back down the stairs to go outside to the backyard. He saw the boy sitting cross-legged on the grass, playing with toy figurines of a fairy and a unicorn. "Bonjour!" Francis said coming towards the fence that separated them.
The boy glanced up over his shoulder. Francis was greeted by a scowling face with bushy eyebrows and bright green eyes. "What do you want?" the boy squeaked, trying to hide his toys.
Francis continued to smile at him. "Je m'appelle Francis Bonnefoy. Comment vous appelez-vous?"
"What? I don't understand anything you're saying."
The blonde frowned and cocked his head to the side. "Parlez vous anglais?" He cleared his throat and said in English, "My name is Francis Bonnefoy. What's yours?"
The other boy gaped at him but continued to glare. "Why should I tell you?"
"So that we can be friends."
"I…I don't need any friends!"
Francis blinked. "You seem so lonely out here though…"
"Well I'm not!" He clutched his toys to his chest protectively, green eyes furious. Francis backed away from the fence with wide eyes. "I haven't seen you around here before," the boy mumbled suddenly.
"I'm spending a week here with my papa. I'm originally from France."
The boy's face scrunched up in disgust. "Oh. Well…my name is Arthur Kirkland."
Francis grinned. "Nice to meet you, Arthur!"
"Hmph."
"Arthur, yer mum's callin' you!" a new voice interrupted. Francis watched as an older boy, probably ten years old with curly brown hair and blue eyes came running outside. "And quit playin' with those stupid things," he growled as he kicked Arthur's toys away from him.
"Patrick!" Arthur cried, reaching to pick them up.
"C'mon, don't be such a wuss, Artie," the bigger boy teased.
"I-I'm not!" he sniffed, holding back tears.
Patrick seemed to notice Francis standing across the fence from him and narrowed his eyes. "What do you want, blondie?"
"Nothing," Francis replied, watching Arthur miserably pick up his toys.
"Good. Then get lost."
Francis watched as Patrick shoved Arthur forward to move faster. Arthur looked like he was about to cry as the door to their house was shut. Francis felt helpless, wanting to help his new friend. He ran back into the house.
"Papa! Papa, I just met the boy next door," he said.
"Oh?" Louis said with a smile. "Is he nice?"
"Kind of. His older brother came out and bullied him back into the house."
"Ah. Well, siblings do that, Francis."
***
Later that day, Francis saw Arthur playing outside again. "Hello again!" he called.
Arthur looked up and frowned. "Oh it's you," he grumbled.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"But your brother—"
"Patrick is not my brother." Arthur pulled at a weed distractedly. "He's my cousin. He and his siblings live with us because their parents died a year ago."
"Is he always so mean?"
"They all are," Arthur snapped. "But I don't mind. I don't care about them."
"But they are your family."
"Why do you even care?"
Francis frowned and sat down on the grass behind the fence. "I thought we were friends."
"I told you I don't want any friends."
"Oui, you did. But—"
"I don't like you," Arthur said angrily. "If you think you're doing me a favor, stop."
"Arthur…"
"Just…go away. Let me be alone."
Francis sighed heavily as he stood up. He knew when he wasn't wanted. He went back into his father's house, keeping an eye on little Arthur from his bedroom. Another boy and girl came out to the backyard a few minutes later. The boy had ash blonde hair like Arthur, but wore rounded spectacles over his eyes. The girl was a redhead with visible green eyes and freckles along her face.
Arthur ignored them as they sat beside him on the grass. Francis watched, wondering what the two were planning. The girl said something while the boy took Arthur's toys away, causing the blonde to cry out. "Give them back!" he shouted, loud enough for Francis to hear from inside the house. He'd seen enough and rushed back down the stairs to go help.
The boy and girl were laughing as they held their cousin's toys out of reach. Arthur was sniffling and crying, jumping to get his precious toys. "Erin! Gareth! Give them back! Please!"
"Aww, does the wittle baby want his toys back?" the girl, Erin, teased.
"'m not a baby!" Arthur growled.
"You going to call your mum on us?" Gareth, the boy, sneered.
Francis was outside in a flash, stopping at the fence and glaring at the two older children. "Leave him alone!" he cried.
Erin and Gareth paused to glance at him. "Who're you?" Erin said as she sized him up.
"None of your business. Now give his toys back."
"But we're having so much fun."
"Arthur isn't!"
"How do you know 'im?" Gareth snapped. "I en't seen you around here before."
"That's my business."
"S-Stay out of this," Arthur said. "Just go 'way, you stupid Frenchie."
"Non! They are bullying you!"
"I can handle myself!"
"Hear that? Little Arthur can handle himself," Gareth grinned.
But Francis wasn't buying it. He leapt over the fence to the astonishment of the other three. "You can't do that!" Erin gasped. "I'll call me aunt!"
"I'm not leaving until you give Arthur his toys back," Francis hissed.
"What's goin' on out here?" Patrick came running out looking angry. He stopped short when he noticed Francis. "What are you doin', blondie?" he snarled. "This isn't your backyard."
"I'm trying to help a friend," Francis said, narrowing his eyes.
"Pff, Arthur? Why'd you wanna be his friend?"
"Because he's a nice person, unlike all of you. Now give his toys back."
Patrick glared at him. "I don't think so, blondie. Why don't I just hurt that pretty little face of yers?"
"N-No!" Arthur ran between his cousin and Francis, shielding Francis. "Do what you want to me, Patrick, but leave him out of it!"
Patrick shoved Arthur out of the way and onto the ground. "I don't listen to you," he spat.
"Pat, you're gettin' a little rough," Erin mumbled. "Gare and I were just playin'. No need to get violent, ya know?"
"If I don't get rough this outsider won't learn his place."
Francis stood his ground, refusing to be intimidated. Patrick spit in his face. "Jump the fence again, and I'll do more than that to ye," he warned. Erin and Gareth tossed Arthur's toys and followed their brother back into the house.
Francis wiped the spit off and knelt down next to Arthur. "Merci," he whispered as he helped him up.
"I-I wasn't doing that because I like you or anything," he pouted. "But I've seen what Patrick can do…" Francis suddenly wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. "W-What are you doing?!" Arthur wailed.
"We make a good team, oui?" Francis smiled.
"…I don't get you. Everyone else wants nothing to do with me."
"I like you, Arthur. I can help you stand up to your cousins if you'd like."
"R-Really?"
"Oui. But only if you agree to be my friend."
Arthur scowled. "Do I have to?"
Francis grinned. "I am not so horrible, you know."
"You look like a bloody girl."
"So?"
"…fine. I-I'll…be your friend. But no one else can know!"
"Ha ha, all right, mon ami!"
"W-What's that mean? Stop talking in your stupid French!"
***
During Francis' week at his father's house, he and Arthur formed a strange bond. They weren't the kind of best friends most people would imagine for boys their age. Francis seemed to cuddle and want Arthur's attention while the little Brit preferred his solitude. He had decided to give Francis the nickname "frog" and so Francis adoringly called him "sourcils" ("eyebrows") in return.
The two had been spending so much time together in the past week, that Francis had forgotten that he was suppose to go back to France. When the day finally came that he was to leave, he saw Arthur outside playing with his toys again. "What do you want today, frog?" he said without turning around.
Francis bit his lip. "I…I'm going back to France today, sourcils."
Arthur looked up with wide eyes. "W-What?"
"I am sorry I didn't tell you."
The boy looked sad but shook his head and replaced it with anger. "It figures," he snarled. "I suppose I'll never see you again, right?"
"I am coming to visit my papa again for Christmas."
"That's six months away."
"Oui."
He frowned. "C-Come back if you want, it's not like I'll be waiting for you or anything." Arthur blushed slightly as he looked down at his feet.
"Au revoir, mon ami," Francis said softly as he bent down to kiss Arthur's cheeks, causing the boy to turn red. He turned and ran towards his father who was waiting for him in the driveway.
Once Arthur recovered, he ran out to the front yard, seeing the car pull out of the driveway and into the road. He watched as Francis was driven away. "Goodbye, frog," he whispered.
"Aww, your friend's gone?" Erin sneered as she came out the front door.
"He's coming back," Arthur retorted without looking at her.
"That so?"
"Yeah."
Erin smirked and reached her hand out to grab the unicorn figure in his hand. But Arthur was quicker and turned around, glaring hatefully at her before running and shoving her down. The redhead blinked in surprise.
"I'm not gonna take your crap anymore, Erin," he spat. "Or any of you. I don't need to tattle to my mum when I can handle you all just fine on my own. Fro—I mean, Francis taught me that."
Erin scrambled to her feet, eyeing him warily before running back inside, no doubt to tell her brothers what just happened. Arthur smirked triumphantly and looked back down the street. "Thanks, frog," he mumbled. "See you in six months."
Author's note: I have no idea when the next chapter will be done. I just wanted to get this posted :3