Free~FrUk

Part One

I'm not good with words. It's not like I don't know how to talk or anything, I'm not a bloody idiot. I just, don't know how to exactly put my actual feelings into words.

I've struggled with that my whole life, especially with my late wife Elizabeth, she always described me as something I'm definitely not. As she said, I was the beauty of the sun or the true shine of the moon.

I'm afraid I wasn't any of those things, but she loved me all the same. Truly, I tried to explain it, I loved her after all but I couldn't exactly tell her that. I usually told her through my actions, asking her to marry me as I got down on one knee and presented her with the most glorious ring I searched high and low to get, or bringing her breakfast for when she was ill, or even kissing her subtly on her hand.

I didn't tell her I loved her until I was holding her very cold hand one day.
She coughed a lot, told me she loved me, and I had finally said it before she quietly passed away.
~
It took me a hundred years to even look at another woman again. Of course, it was merely a couple of years after until our story here takes place. I didn't, as you would say, 'date' anyone during those first few years, I was merely sad and felt I was betraying her. For she truly was as radiant as the sun, but I swear, ever since she died, no ounce of sunlight came through those clouds again.

I didn't let anybody see sun until I was ready myself. So many people left, tired of the rain and the dark. I didn't blame them really, but what was I to do? You couldn't ask me to be happy. It simply wasn't possible. How could have I been? I lost her.

Yet I remember something odd that happened one day, something that had changed my country. Even now I don't know if it was a good thing, but as I walked down the dreary streets with a saddened expression, I noticed something odd and amazing all at the same time.

A single ray of sunlight had made it through the cracks of the clouds. I didn't know if I liked it or not, and figured it would go away, but I noticed it land on a small travel shop nearby. Did I let that happen? Or was it just Mother Nature finally taking over? I wasn't sure.

I followed the sign, but since I wasn't such an adventurous old chap I took it with caution. Going inside the store, I was met with the aroma of incense and the pages of old papers and ink. I took in my surroundings as I glanced around, looking at all the world globes with wonder. A few candles were out, but I noticed one shining over a country not too far away.

"What the bloody hell...?" I asked myself, seeing as it shone towards France.

"Of all countries..." I muttered, throughly annoyed.

I left without a word, refusing to glance at the stupid illustration any longer, without noticing the sunlight fade slowly until it too was smothered by my darkness.
~
It didn't help when I started to noticed other stupid signs of that stupid country. Baguettes carried in baskets, or the occasional beret being worn by simple English girls. Or, hell, French tourists cluttered around chatting in their weird accents.

I minded, quite a bit. What did these signs mean? That I should visit my definite enemy? I think not thank you very much! I'd rather stay captured in my little piece of darkness then go to France, especially go to Paris, the city of lights. Which, of course at the time wasn't, but going anywhere with lights wasn't something I wanted to do.

I'd rather sit here and stay, and especially of all countries I would never visit that bloody frog!
~
I was quite tired a lot to say the least, especially with the whole France signs fiasco, but I would admit I was curious about the strange signs occurring around me. It was also odd, for the fact my friend had asked me if I was doing alright.

"My dear Will, I'm doing fine. Why do you ask?"

"Thine eyes speak differently my league." He answered formally.

I couldn't exactly expand the truth on such a subject, since he was right about it all.

"I'm afraid...I'm not being truthful am I? I've just been, well, fairly tired and not myself at all." I had admitted, as he jotted this down.

"May I ask what bothers thee?"

"I'm afraid we both know the answer to that, my dear Will." I, once again, admitted sadly.

"Sire? Does thou wish to take the next ship to thy fellow county? To truly heal over thy loss of wife, one must endure the spark of a new love." He said, consoling me with a small pat on the back.

"And which county would I sail to?"

"Well sire, thou is friends with Francis Bonnefoy? Thy county of France if thine most certain." He answered as I shivered unpleasantly.

"Oh." I said, frowning.

"Is sire not happy with what thine offers?" He frowned as well.

"Oh! No, my lad. It's quite alright. I just...really can't stand the man."

"Sire, if thy may, he might help thee for all the sudden thoughts of sadness that possesses you." He said, as I sighed in response and tapped my quill against the desk.

"Dear Will, I couldn't possibly drop everything and leave, I still have duties for this country and what it possesses. And, as rightful King for now, I couldn't step aside." I replied, shaking my head as I went back to writing my parchment.

"Sire, thy knows perfectly well thine eyes are larger then thy heart. Servants and thy fellow council can take care of the Kingdom, they thine selves know what it's been like these last few dreadful years." He said, a little more firmly.

"Will..." I began.

"Sire, thy has been burying thyself in parchments and ink, not noticing it effects thy health greatly. Thou needs a break, and thou shall write to me as much as thy can as thyself is away." He said, once again firmly.

"Well, quite so. I couldn't fight with you if I've tried." I muttered grimly, as he beamed.

"Speaking of which, will your new play be ready for when I get back?" I asked.

"If that what thy commands sire, then it will be."

"What will it be called?" I asked, curious.

"Romeo and Juliet: A Tale of Two Star-Crossed Lovers." He replied.
~
I stood at the dock as men twice my size slung burlap sacks and carried cargo on board, as I held my carry on sack with care. I had told my messenger to send a note to Francis, telling him I would be visiting, as he sent back an eager reply. I gagged at the thought, but I was too far in to back out now.

I hated the idea of leaving, but since it was for my own good and the good of my country, who am I to argue? Everything would be fine, my Kingdom was strong with so many colonies to count. What could really happen?