A Frenchman, a Brit, and a Magic Mistake (FrUk)

Chapter 1

A/N: HEYO BROS!! So I had brought it upon myself to attempt writing a fanfic and here it is! This is my first one so none of that judgey judgemental judgement stuff. Anyways I hope you enjoy and whatnot~

"That is it! I have had enough of that bloody frog! That bloody wine bastard!," England shouted to no one in particular as he stormed into his house. The Englishman had just returned home from the World Summit that was hosted by him in London. And like most of the times he came home angry. Why? One person. France. The Frenchman had been playing on his nerves for the past few weeks and the island nation had finally reached his limit. "He thinks he can just waltz in late as if nothing had happened! A few minutes would have been fine but he was an hour late! An hour late! Who does he think he is?! Not only that but Ludwig made me go over the whole bloody material AGAIN!! DAMN FRENCH BASTARD!!"

The meeting was rowdy as it usually was with none of the members listening. Eventually Ludwig had managed to calm everyone down so Arthur could continue with the topic at hand. Of course he noticed that Francis wasn't present, after all it was pretty hard not to notice your enemy. But Arthur hadn't given it any thought seeing that it wouldn't harm him in anyway, that is until the Frenchman arrived an hour late, naked with only a rose covering him up and promptly kissed his cheek. It was as if Francis hadn't even noticed the ruckus he caused the moment he walked in.

Everything went crazy from there. The Brit had punched the naked man in the face and soon everyone started yelling and fighting. Alfred and Ivan, Lovino with Antonio and Ludwig, Gilbert joined Antonio, Vash had his gun out again and even Peter had managed to sneak in. Meanwhile Francis was making advances towards Arthur but he was instantly either punched, slapped or kicked away. But that only seemed to motivate him to try harder. The English nation soon found himself being sat on by none other than Francis and things only turned worse. Soon the two were fighting and insulting each other louder than everyone else was but things were different this time around. Arthur had officially snapped and was absolutely livid. They were separated by Ludwig and Alfred, no one really wanted anyone to die that day so the meeting ended.

And that's why Arthur was currently in his basement and flipping through books trying to find a spell that would get rid of the French nation once and for all. The Brit soon discovered that he did not in fact have any spells or potions that could kill. "Damn it all!!," he growled, chucking an old book across the room. He'll regret that later. Picking up a book that was already looked through, he found an interesting spell that caught his attention. With a smirk, Arthur quickly gathered up the necessary equipment and stood by the pentagram that had a cloth tissue that Francis had left once, chanting the spell. With every word the Englishman said, his voice grew louder and the room grew brighter. Then...it was quiet. "Now we'll see who's laughing," Arthur chuckled darkly, heading back upstairs to change out of his military suit and into something more appropriate.

It was a sunny day in London, different than the usual clouds and rain. "No point in wasting such a nice day indoors," he decided. The island nation headed out for a walk, no real destination in mind until he saw Hyde Park in the distance. Unbeknownst to Arthur, a certain Frenchman was happily strolling and whistling through that same park. The sour mood Arthur was instantly lifted as he walked down the street to the park. Being in his country with his citizens always made him feel much better. Calmly just walking through the park and being surrounded by trees and happy people made him smile.

Arthur was nearing the lake when he started feeling a throbbing in his head which seemed to grow more intense with every step he took. The English nation didn't think anything of it, blaming it on the meeting instead. But when a small wave of nausea went through him, he quickly leaned against a nearby tree. Arthur really wasn't feeling the best, he felt sick and sat down against the tree for a moment to rest. His headache was growing worse and he couldn't even hear himself think anymore, luckily it seemed as there weren't too many people in the area at the moment. The Brit sat there with his head in his hands, breathing heavily and trying to calm down. At the same time Francis was walking down the path in Arthur's direction. He was thinking about how well the meeting went and how his dear Angleterre made the best face when he had appeared.

Arthur started to feel a tingling sensation starting to move through his body, it covered him from head to toe and then a poof of smoke. He felt like he was shrinking and the smoke only made him cough, he waved it away and rubbed his eyes. That weird feeling was gone along with the headache and nausea. But something seemed off to the Brit. It hit him then. Everything was now much bigger than originally, the trees, the people, everything. Looking down at himself, what he saw nearly made his heart stop. Arthur Kirkland, the ex-British Empire and fierce pirate of the seven seas was...a child. A sudden wave of emotions flooded him and Arthur got a giant urge to just cry as he looked down at his small body. Thankfully though he wasn't naked, he had a mini version of his previous outfit but that didn't stop the tears one bit. Not caring at all that he was actually crying in the middle of the park, he curled up and let the tears fall.

As Francis was going by, he heard a child crying from behind the tree and quickly stopped where he was, listening to be sure he was hearing right. Definitely a small child crying. The Frenchman thought with a worried expression as he went around to find the source of the crying. There he saw a small blonde boy curled up near the tree, crying and all alone. Francis carefully made his way over to the boy, not wanting to spook him by accident and sat down next to him. "Salut petite garçon. Why are you crying?," Francis asked quietly, hoping to figure out why a five year old was all alone in the park. Arthur looked up at the sound of French being spoken near him and looked right into the eyes of Francis which only seemed to make him cry harder. He felt a sudden fear of being near the Frenchman, he was in a vulnerable state and could be easily conquered if one tried.

Francis saw the fear in those green eyes and he couldn't help but be reminded of the English nation whose eyes were just like that. In fact the boy himself looked strikingly similar to the Brit, even the eyebrows. "Where are your parents? You should not be alone in a big park like this. Did you get lost?," Francis asked, slowly moving towards the boy as the boy simultaneously scooted away. "I d-don't have a mum or dad," Arthur whimpered and sniffled while rubbing his eyes. "What's your name then?" "A-Arthur, you f-frog," Arthur said sniffling as a small frown appeared on his face when Francis had the look of utter bewilderment.

"Go away you bloody fwog! You already made fun of me today at the meeting!," Arthur cried out, tears rolling down his cheeks again. "Wait..Angleterre?! Is that really you?!," Francis asked in complete shock. This was definitely not something that the French nation was expecting. "Yes. Go away!," the small Brit hiccupped miserably, "I don't want to be controlled or conquered or anything by anyone!! So get the bloody hell away from me!" Arthur stood up a bit wobbly and was going to run but he was quickly snatched up by Francis who held him close. Francis held the small child in his arms and soothingly rubbed his back, trying to calm the squirming Arthur down. "I won't do any of the sorts Angleterre. Now tell moi what happened." "I-I was mad at you and I w-wanted to get you back but I g-g-guess it backfired on me," Arthur mumbled into Francis' shirt that he was clinging to with his fists.

"Mon petit lapin. What have I told you about magic? C'est mauvais," the Frenchman scolded his fellow nation as he stood up with the Brit is his arms, "Let's get you home." Arthur said nothing as he was held and carried home, he was too exhausted to argue with Francis at the moment. On the way back to the Brit's home, Francis was humming along to a happy tune but this same tune had lulled the tired Englishman to sleep. Feeling the little body go somewhat slack in his arms, Francis looked down at the sleeping little nation. Angleterre was très mignon as a child! I can't believe I almost forgot! Those chubby little cheeks, I want to pinch them! Ah I could just cuddle him to death! Francis thought, suppressing a squeal just as Arthur yawned in his arms. The Frenchman adjusted his hold on the Englishman so he would be more comfortable sleeping.

A/N: So that was the first chapter! Be sure to vote/comment cause why not! Thanks~