A/N: This will be an Mpreg story, but it will be split up. The Mpreg will be in the second part. Damara and Brigid/Brigantia are Celtic fertility goddesses. Damara's job is to bring peace and harmony to quarrelsome households. Yeah, I feel sorry for her in this story. Loegria = Old Welsh name for England. Gaul = Old name for France. Translations listed at the end.

Story set two weeks after "Changes - America/Canada." For this fictional story, due to the 2010 UK general elections and continued recession, England's health has hit an all-time low.

Fandom: Hetalia

Summary: England calls on old friends to help. Unfortunately, his brothers got to them first.

Pairings: France-Francis/England-Arthur, mentioned America-Alfred/Canada-Matthew

Warnings: Shonen-Ai, Possible OOC, Future Mpreg (not this chapter), Cursing

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters in this fan fiction.

Changes - France/England (Part I)

XXX

Arthur attempted to keep his breath down to a low wheeze as he dragged his weakened body to the makeshift dresser/altar next to the bed.

France had closed the bedroom door only five minutes ago and the faltering nation knew time was limited before his spouse returned.

England swore at shaking hands which refused to light the small candle in front of his face. It also didn't help that he saw three candles instead of one. "Please… Please! Light! You blasted…!"

Burning two fingers in the process, the ill man finally lit the candle. In relief, he slumped sideways to the floor. Ancient half-remembered prayers flowed from chapped lips.

"Oh me! Oh my! Why did you not call on me sooner, Loegria? All my worshipers sailed away a long time ago. Your problems are too big and I am too small to help you. America will not listen anyway. He pretends not to see me."

Arthur smiled up at the small worried girl who currently held his feverish head in her lap. "Matthew, then. Remember him? He picked flowers with you the last time he visited. Alfred will listen to Canada. They are one now."

The old goddess of Beltaine, named Damara, clapped tiny hands together with a giggle. "Yes, I remember. I liked him. He smelled of sweetness and snow."

Encouraged his immediate family would be put aright, England began to nod off to Damara's humming. Her next spoken words almost stopped his heart cold. "I am sorry, Loegria. The illness of the land shall worsen far more before Spring returns. The great strength your beloved Gaul bestows upon you cannot hold back the tide much longer. I will call to Big Sister. She will come and make all well again."

England rallied what little strength he had left to raise a feeble protest. "Nooo, not her. Anyone, but her…"

"Heh. Look at this sad excuse of a country. If you were a fish, I'd throw ya back."

Damara half-turned with a glowing smile. "Gee, that was quick, Brigantia! Were you awaiting my call?"

Arthur flopped back and covered blood-shot eyes. "No. She was waiting for my call. Not that I ever would. Blessed Saint Brigid. Saint Bride. All this time, you've helped my brothers, Ireland and Scotland. What do I get for my years of secret worship? Nothing."

Resting her ever-present sheaf of wheat to the side, Brigid crouched down to lay a wicked ear twist on the whining country. "Yes. Emphasis on secret. Like a mistress on 'church meeting' night. Unlike you, your brothers have worshiped me honestly from olden times to today. So tell me, Loegria. Why should I grant you the sacred boon of additional life?"

Rubbing his ear with a snarl, Arthur wrestled himself upright. The petite form of Damara, behind him, straining to help. "For my brothers! For my love, Gaul, now called France! For my sons, Alfred and Matthew! Lastly, for my suffering people! I pray thee, Blessed Brigantia, grant my humble boon!"

Brigantia stood, staring at the pleading country. Arms crossed against her chest. "Boy, that was pathetic. You really are out of practice."

Showing rare anger, Damara stood up, making Arthur flop back with a cry. "Oh sorry, Loegria. Sister, you took the offerings! You have to keep your promise!"

England glared at the ceiling with a sense of impending dread. "I know I'll regret asking this. What promise?"

Brigid bent over, frightening Arthur even more with a serene smile. "Apparently, your brothers can read the atmosphere better than you can. They prayed for your well-being before general elections even started. Didn't they tell you?"

Arthur felt too exhausted to curse. "My brothers prayed for me? Then your cure will definitely be something horribly painful and extremely embarrassing for eons to come."

Brigid straightened up with a shrug. "No skin off my back. Damara, hold up this mostly-dead carcass for me. I'll need you as a conduit. Oh dear. You've gotten paler, sister. You should call on me more. My followers have grown recently. I have more than enough power to share."

Struggling to place England back in a sitting position, Damara blushed. "The soldiers praying overseas need your blessings more than I do, Brigantia. I may be small, but I'm hearty. I will be all right."

Brigid/Brigantia, Keeper of the Sacred Flame, embraced her little sister, who personified youth and innocence, and the poor sap, called Arthur, cursed to suffer all his country's follies and woe. "Enough with the blarney. We're family. We take care of our own."

Arthur smiled, sensing the barely remembered power of the Ancients flow through him once more. "Too damn right."

XXX

"Listen up, Loegria! When the man with the face like a goat returns, you do what comes naturally and let the cure take effect."

"Brigantia, the Gaul's name is Francis."

"Francis. Sperm donor. Same thing."

"You still haven't told me what the cure is, you malicious witch."

"And spoil the surprise? Not on your life. Not that there's much left. Oooh, I smell a Frank on the horizon. Time for us to go!"

"She means well, Loegria. Do not worry. Oh! America has finally allowed Canada to rest for a little while. I shall go visit him in his dreams. Is there anything you wish to say?"

"Tell Matthew to be strong and Daddy and Papa love him."

"Silly Loegria. He already knows that."

"Yes, but it's nice to be reminded."

XXX

"Arthur? Tu es réveillé? Votre roc de l'amour est de retour!"

Placing his book on the bedside table, England rotated his head and moved his shoulders to work the kinks out. After the goddesses left, he realized he felt more alive and, oddly, warm all over. "Rock of love? I'm an ill man, France. Don't make me use my last strength to choke you to death."

"Ah! There are the dulcet tones of ma douce Angleterre! The broth is ready. Perhaps we may swallow a little without it coming-"

France walked in, holding a full tray, with a smile on his worn face. One glance at Arthur, naked on the bed, and the tray crashed to the floor. "Un bel ange du ciel."

Arthur tilted his head and smiled at the tent poking through his husband's too tight pants. Yep, after all these years, still got it.

Reclining back, England executed a full-body stretch. "You were saying something about swallowing and coming?"

Francis clenched his fists, shutting his eyes against the intoxicating sight. "Non! The illness is too far gone, Angleterre. I will not let you seduce me. The last time, at the Summit, you fainted. When your eyes refused to open for so long, I felt my soul leaving with you."

"France? Francis? Look at me. Please?"

France could never deny England when he used that voice. Opening his eyes, he relished in the wonderful view Arthur gave him.

Returning Francis's loving gaze in full, Arthur opened his arms. "I feel better today, and if I feel weak while we're doing it, I'll tell you. I swear."

Tearing his clothes off in two pulls, Francis was on the bed and in Arthur's embrace in a flash. "Once, mon amour. Then it is rest for you."

Arthur's emerald eyes lit up with a strange fire. "Oh no, you lazy Frog! You've shirked your husbandly duties for two whole weeks. I demand restitution."

Francis wiggled his eyebrows along with his hips. "Two weeks? Pfft! La France ne jamais abandonner!

Feeling the strange warmth inside grow stronger, Arthur responded with a deep kiss and a growl. "We'll see about that."

XXX

Yep, still online translator. Still suck.

Tu es réveillé? Votre roc de l'amour est de retour! - Are you awake? Your rock of love is back!

ma douce Angleterre- sweet England

Un bel ange du ciel. - A beautiful angel from heaven.

mon amour - my love

La France ne jamais abandonner! - France never gives up!