France, England, and FrUk Oneshots

L'amour est la douleur

((This chapter will have song lyrics from the song "I dreamed a dream" from the play "les miserables". I actually did change some of the lyrics, and I took off the first few lines to make it fit the story, so I didn't get the lines wrong, I just changed them lol. All the bold will be lyrics! Go listen to "I dreamed a dream - Anne Hathaway" on YouTube; it's the actual song and it's really good and sad))

*France's POV*

France sighed, sitting on the edge of his bed. He gazed sadly at the calendar in front of him. Today was that day. May 30. Sure, it was 585 years later, but it was still that day. He took a shuddering breath and stood up, grabbing a violin case. He opened it up, took out the bow... And began to play, singing softly.

"There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting"

As he whispered the words, and ran the bow across the violin strings, creating a soft tune filled with sadness, he remembered her. He remembered when he first met Jeanne. She was different than most other woman he had met. She was independent and strong. She had a fiery spirit and was filled with adventure. The two of them had fallen in love quite quickly, turning France's war-torn life much better.

"There was a time
Then it all went wrong..."

Yes, there was a time when France was truly in love. But then it happened. It was all gone, in a flash of light; a puff of smoke. Now he was only left with a dreams. A tear trickled down his face as the memories poured from his violin, spilling out into the bedroom and out the open window.

"I dreamed a dream in times gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living"

  Things used to be so hopeful for Francis and Jeanne. He still dreamt about those good times. Those times were full of hope and love and life. Now he wasn't too sure if there was any hope left. He wasn't even sure if life was worth living any longer. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many people he slept with or dated... It would never be the same.

"I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving"

  Another tear seeped from his eye as he sang those words. He and Jeanne used to have such good dreams of the future. He never imagined her not being there with them. He never imagined that God would abandon the two of them. That's the only thing Jeanne had loved more than Francis. God. And He had gone and left the both of them, with a cold, unforgiving wrath.

"When I was young and unafraid Dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung
No wine untasted"

  Everything had seemed so carefree, with Jeanne. Sure, the war with England was still in full swing, and they both were a part of it - but everything was at peace when they were together.

"But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame"

  Tears began welling up, once again, underneath his closed eyelids. The bow glided painfully over the old strings, nearly tearing them apart, just like France's dreams. All his hope had left, all his dreams. They were gone, now.

"Winter and spring spent by my side
She filled my days with endless wonder"

  A ghost of a smile appeared on his face as he remembered the time they had together. Every day was an adventure with Jeanne. Every day was full of wonder, full of hope, full of love. They were side by side, wherever they went. She had made France feel young again. His voice grew stronger, and the sound from the violin seemed to sharpen.

"He took my childhood in a stride
And she was gone when summer came"

He practically screamed the words, painful and loud, yet beautiful. He remembered the moment clearly. The day that England took her away. Took his youth, took his love, took his everything. He remembered the smoke. He remembered looking into her eyes as the fire engulfed her. Her glistening eyes seemed to say, "It's okay, Francis. You'll be okay." That was May 30th. Then she was gone.

"And still I dream she'll come to me
That we'll live the years together"

He dreamed about her every night. He thought about her all the time. He imagined meeting her, in Paris, or in a field.... Anywhere. He just wanted her. Wanted to live with her, grow old with her.

"But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms I cannot weather"

Tears began dripping down his face, as a small sob shook his shoulders. He knew that his dream, his one and only real dream, would never come true. Facing that reality was a cold, hard shock he had to do everyday. It was the hardest thing ever. And France wasn't sure he could take it.

"I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living"

His voice grew stronger again as tears streamed down his face. That's what his life was now. Hell. That's all it was. Without Jeanne, that's all it would ever be.

"So different now from what it seemed"

As his voice began to quiet again, so did the violin; worn out.

"Now.... life.... has killed...
the dream..."

A sob escaped him, and he faltered on the violin momentarily. His dream was gone, killed by life, his Hell, his prison.

"...I.. Dreamed."

At the last note, Francis Bonnefoy broke down. He collapsed to his knees, letting the violin clatter beside him. As he sobbed into his hands, the chilling night air floated in through the open window... and the citizens of France could feel his pain as it floated out.

((A/N Aw 😭 Thank you for reading, don't forget to vote, comment, and leave suggestions 💕))