The Hundred Years' War (FrUK)

8

1399

That idiot better wake up.

I kept throwing pebbles at his window, but I knew he was awake. The room was lit with candlelight. I continued to throw stuff, but no answer. "Psst! England!" I whispered and yelled. I threw some more, but no response. "Pssssst! England! I know you are awake!" I yelled again. I threw some more and suddenly saw a shadow coming.

I quickly fixed myself and waited for him to open the window. "What! I did not answer the first few times, yet you do not get the hint?!" He yelled. He looked down from his window at me. I was about three hundred centimeters from him.

"I have something important to discuss with you," I whispered.

"It couldn't wait till morning?" He asked.

I shook my head at him, and he leaned over the ledge to look at me. "Have at it then," He spoke. I smiled as I looked up at him. He looked majestic...

Our countries have been on good terms since the wedding a few years ago. Now, the young Isabella was ten and was dealing with many new duties. However, it has been a few months since anyone had seen King Richard...I was starting to get worried.

"Have you seen-"

"Nope! remember what I said? No French-speaking to me! English, please!"

"What? are you serious?"

"Very! Now..go on...properly this time!" He demanded. I rolled my eyes at him and began to clear my throat.

"Havæ thee seen rochand richard? Ich am worriede. Hǒu if somethende grē̆mlī happened? hǒu līke happen bihofþe queen isabella? shæ hath bene for ain lonȜ sīquār..."

I felt my face grow pale, saying that out loud. I had only asked if he had heard from King Richard and How I was concerned for Queen Isabella. England began to laugh at me, and my face grew warm. "France...you are terrible at this..." He laughed. I smiled hearing his laugh, and I nearly fell to my knees.

"You are terrible...but really, have you?" I asked. We were a bit nicer toward each other, but this tension still existed. It was hard to forget what a dick he was in the past century. "Ahh, I can't give private information...but I might...for the right price..." He smirked. I rolled my eyes, placed a hand on my heart, and stretched my right arm out.

"Mīn foolish England! līke thee sparæ ich, bī nōn-ọ̄ther beende ain dick, a'd givende ich hider lovelī informatfōre-dēde," I mocked. I may have called him a dick...

"Ugh! you are unbearable. Really, I have no clue; they have not mentioned anything to me; I am sure everything is fine..." He tried to reassure me. However, it was not comforting.

He continued to look down at me as I began to mess with some of the bushes I stood beside. It had grown silent, and I had nothing to ask. He leaned over the ledge still, and I could see he was in his night clothes. "Is that all?" He asked. I looked up, and he rested his cheek on the palm of his hand.

"Ahhh...Yes..." I spoke. Every time I looked at him, I had regret, but there was no going back...only forward. "Mr. France, you have no decency. You come to my window constantly, and now you stand before me like an idiot; why do you keep trying?" He asked. My eyes widened, and I didn't know what to say.

"I don't know either...but I'm trying..." I spoke. I really was. I didn't want more fighting; I wanted everything to stop. His odd friendliness felt forced, which I dreaded the most.

He breathed out deeply and smiled. "Let's go for a walk," he spoke. My eyes widened, and I felt my jaw drop. "Really?" I asked. He laughed at my reaction and nodded. "Unless you are scared of me," he spoke. I rolled my eyes at his statement and shook my head. "Not likely..."