Metal Birds

Chapter 18: Of Phone Calls and Leaders

London, England, January 1939 

"And what did you say to them?"

"I told them that if Ludwig wanted to speak about things 'diplomatically', then he should do it himself."

Arthur scoffed as he shifted back slightly in his chair. Francis sat across from him, looking grim and tired.

The two were currently discussing a visit Francis had gotten earlier. The Italy brothers. Feliciano had dragged Romano away from the peninsula in order to attempt to convince Francis to give up his territory along the Rhine River. Feliciano's argument had apparently been that he was worried, since Francis had served as an elder brother to the both of them, and that they didn't want Ludwig to become angry.

Francis was sure that the man was simply using them to get the land without a fight, which was 'smartly stupid' as Francis said.

"That's ridiculous."

"It is..." Francis sighed in agreement.

"How come Ludwig didn't come?"

"I wouldn't know, he could. Gilbert could easily hold down control."

"I wouldn't trust Gilbert."

"This is true."

"Weren't you two friends?"

"Oui. In a way. We were more like Allies who didn't hate each other. He, Antonio and I."

Arthur nodded, glancing down at his empty cup of tea.

It was early morning, in early February. The two were seated in a rather large apartment, down the road from Francis' capital building. It had been graciously provided to him, and once it had been fixed up a little, it was very cozy. It had wide windows, and a warm lay out, and a small balcony in which one could easily take off from.

"Did you see your brothers?"

"No, I didn't. But I've been getting letters from Dylan. A few from Seamus."

"Are they faring well?"

"Well enough."

Francis pursed his lips and smiled, before his expression faded slightly.

"Are you alright?" Arthur questioned worriedly.

Francis paused. "I received a phone call from Felycita last night."

He could feel his brow turn upwards slightly. "Really? Is she alright?"

"She wanted to discuss what happened in Czechoslovakia. She seemed rather... perturbed."

"If I was her, I would be."

"Yes. She says that there's movement in the Rhinelands. That's what Hynrik said. Apparently, it doesn't look so good."

There was a moment of silence, and Francis stood.

"She wants to form a treaty with us. With you, at least. She said that her leaders are all for it. In the case that Germany were to attack, we should be there for her. To provide reinforcements, or pull her out of the rut."

"That sounds alright..." Arthur's tone became uncertain.

It was Francis' turn to become concerned. "Don't tell me you haven't..."

Arthur remained quiet, staring down ashamedly.

"You haven't spoken to your leaders yet? You haven't even told them you're here?"

Arthur sighed, pinching his temple. "No, I haven't." He admitted sullenly.

Francis stared down at him wordlessly, before slumping back into the chair again. "Arthur... you must. You must speak to them. I understand your doubts, really. But the only way we can get anywhere is if they know you're here." He pressed the final word in solemnly.