Opening Notes;

First, "Hetalia" is still not mine.

Second, massive amounts of speculation and other things in this chapter.

Third, ...I just felt like there should be a third note, sorry.

Woo, it's been a while, hasn't it?


Looking back on it now, the curt argument between France and England was normal. It was like so many others that came before it, and that would come after. They made up shortly afterward, and things returned to what they were. France would offer to cut England's hair, and the smaller boy would refuse, only to wake up the next morning with considerably less hair than he went to bed with. England would butcher a French dish or a language lesson just to see what expression the older nation would make this time.

Their life together was anything but calm, but it was… normal.


"…France?"

It was midday, and while waiting for the chefs to prepare a snack, France had decided a little fresh air would be nice, and dragged his little… servant? Brother? He didn't know what he was to England – out to lie in the grass and stare at clouds.

He did this sometimes. France. He was so busy with national affairs, that whenever he did get free time, he made sure to do something utterly relaxing. Usually it was a nice long dip in a private bath, or seeking out a musician and listening to music for what seemed like hours. Other times, though, he would just snatch England up, bring him outside, and lie beside him in the grass.

He didn't seem to hear his name being called by said country though, his eyes closed and a content look on his face. Had he fallen asleep? England sat up, nudging the other and calling his name again. France hummed at him, cracking an eye open to regard England curiously.

"What is it, Angleterre?"

England opened his mouth to form answer, but none came. He closed it and hurriedly looked away.

"Nothing," he said finally, moving to stand and brush stray blades of grass from his clothes. He looked down at France, who smiled up at him.

"But… I - I left something for you in your room, okay?"

"For me?" France asked, sitting up and putting a hand to his heart in exaggerated surprise. "Oh, careful now Angleterre, or I'll start to think you're warming up to me~"

England's cheeks bloomed red immediately following the remark. He put on his most vicious expression regardless, and practically shouted, "I-it's not because I like you or anything! I just – it's just – !"

He went quiet again, and with the full force of his glare having no effect on the still grinning France, England turned and stormed back into the house.


It wasn't until after dinner the same night at France had chance to retire to his room. He threw himself down onto the lavish bed, expecting to land with a satisfying bounce, but something dug into his back. He sat up, rather annoyed that something was getting in the way of his getting comfortable.

The offending object in question was what looked like a parcel. Wrapped in light skins and twine, it was surprisingly pointy…

"What on Earth…" The nation stared at it, turning it over in his hands. He didn't even think to see what was inside until young England's words from earlier resurfaced in his head. Ah, so it was the "something" that he'd mentioned…

France laughed quietly to himself, unraveling the package. Inside was cloth, made from wool, something that England prided himself in. Stitched into it were two rabbits. No... France thought to himself, bringing the cloth closer to better inspect it. A rabbit and a hare…

He smiled.


France had always let England visit his country, his true home, on occasion. Though France would always accompany him, of course. After receiving England's gift, he decided, in return, to let the other blonde make a solo trip under oath that he would be at the port in three day's time, when the French sailors came to collect him.

England promised.

He came back bloodied.


After that, France kept a much closer eye on his territory. This didn't sit well at all with England, of course, but he understood it. He hadn't told France what had happened; only that he met with his brothers again. France didn't ask for an elaboration.

Currently he had England sat down in one of the vacant rooms, facing the window so that the young blonde could look out at the countryside. France stood behind him; lightly combing the mess they so loosely called the child's hair. It hadn't been long since France had snuck in England's room and cut it in the boy's sleep.

With a small, misplaced grin, France notes that the two of them had done this before. When, exactly, he can't remember – so he settles for laughing about it.

England frowns (he can feel it) and shoots him a curious glare without even needing to look. France shakes his head as his chuckles die down. How had he come to know this kid so well, in such a short amount of time? It baffled him, and—

"Stupid France – tell me what y— o-ow, OW!"

France hushed him with a tug at his hair - a small spot that was clumped together, similar to a rat's nest. "Shhh," he giggled, "Can't I go five minutes without hearing your voice?"

"Je te déteste!" England hissed, and France smiled sadly – answering him with another sharp pull of the comb.


Yes, thing were normal… they were normal until, out of the blue, England collapsed.

Something was happening in the British Isles, that much France could tell. He could feel a force rising, it's beginnings in his own country and it's end, surely, would in be England.

England himself was bedridden with a nasty case of civil war. This, he decided, hurt much, much more than unification. When asked by nurses what the problem was, he would only hiss "anarchy." France hadn't even known England knew what the word meant.

The smaller nation was bitter at everyone during this time, but no one more so than France. A lot of them time he would refuse visits from the other, and when his requests were ignored and his part-caretaker, part-captor would sit by his bedside… England would scream at him how much it hurt, and how it was his fault this was happening to him, because it was his lords and leaders that were tearing him in half.

Then he would cry and tell of how much his brothers hated him, because France and his Normans had been using England's land to invade them as well. He would tell how he hated France because the other hadn't even told him, and he had to find out while his own blood attacked.

"Shh, Angleterre, don't talk so much or you'll never get better…" France would coo lightly, though his words never had the desired effect. England would hiss and fuss at him until he left.

Finally, France accepted that this was no good. He was losing control of England, the territory and the boy, no matter what he tried. What's worse, he was losing England to a power that had it's roots in his own nobility. Half-heartedly, he noted the irony in that.


When England was well enough to walk again, he demanded to return home. "Home," he said, was not here with France, it was across the channel with his unsatisfied people and his bullies of brothers.

France walked him to the port, and to the dock, and went as far to see him off when the ship left harbor. He waved goodbye with a hard smile. England did not return the sentiments.


Author's Note: Bam. We're done with the Norman Conquest.

And you thought they were getting along so well, didn't you?

Sorry, but there has to be a reason that England hates France so much, other than the conquest and occupation. I figure, excruciating pain is as good a reason as any. Haha... ha. Okay, for real now.

The first half of this chapter is fluff. The whole rabbit and hare thing... rabbits aren't native to England, but hares are. The French introduced rabbits. So, there' that. Next, England's big brothers are bullies. They beat him up a lot - or so Hidekaz says. During this civil war - which is not the War of Roses, mind you, there were raids by the Scottish and Welsh, so there's that. Finally, France loses control of England to this thing called the "Angevin Empire." I had no idea what it was until I went researching for this story... it's complicated, because while the Angevin Empire is... technically French? It's separate from France itself. It even conquered some French lands.

Alright, well I'm not particularly happy with this chapter, but it gets you were you need to go. I was going to split it up, but like I said in previous author's notes, I want to head into later periods in history.

Hope you enjoyed this installment! Don't forget to leave a review!