GNxDDD Does Bootcamp!

Round Three: Greensleeves (Hetalia)

"Alas, my love, you do me wrong

To cast me off discourteously..."

The song had been going through Francis' head for days. He found himself humming to it at odd hours throughout the day; as he cooked breakfast, as he drove to work, as he put himself to bed. It had gotten to the point where it was annoying him, especially considering its origin was English. Oh, how Arthur would gloat if he ever found out Francis enjoyed one of his songs; Francis let out a lazy sigh at the thought. No matter how many other songs he tried to recall in his head, the gentle earworm was persistent.

On the days Francis did not work in officially promoting his country, he still found himself immersing himself in the history of his people; taking in the sites, talking to those who had come to learn. He adored taking time out of his busy work schedule to remind himself of the beauty his country held. This spring gifted the perfect weather to enjoy a day out on day was no different, the little island of Mont Saint Michel and Francis was keeping himself busy explaining directions to visitors and discussing the best local eateries.

"...Greensleeves was my heart of gold

And who but my lady greensleeves..."

The flash of a camera was what caused Francis to divert his attention from the tourists he was speaking with, but a pair of familiar, olive green eyes was what captivated it. Francis had seen those eyes before, he recognized them instantly as belonging to a girl who had once saved everything he had stood for, who had burned because of him at the mere age of nineteen. He was captivated by the girl, literally captured by her camera but also enthralled to see someone so familiar. Without a second thought, he pardoned himself from giving directions and approached the girl with green eyes.

"I'm so sorry for taking your picture without asking." The girl muttered quickly as she lowered her camera, taking Francis's rush to her to be an aggressive reaction.

Francis realized his mistake and took a step back from the girl, putting his hands up to surrender. "It's not like that." He said quickly as he ran a hand through his long blond hair, "I'm sorry for scaring you. "

"...Your vows you've broken, like my heart

Oh, why did you so enrapture me?"

A smile passed over the girl's face and Francis took it as his chance to start up a more sustainable conversation. "You are a tourist? Are you holidaying?"

"Yeah." The girl nodded, and Francis picked up that her accent was American. "I'm taking a small holiday. I've always wanted to visit Mont Saint Michel. It's got a tonne of history and I like sort of seeing it for myself."

"I can show you." Francis offered, jumping at the chance to spend a moment longer with this girl he was certain he had met before, centuries ago. "I can give you a tour of the place. I am a local here."

"Sure." The girl nodded as she held out her hand, offering the Frenchman a handshake, "I'm Lisa, by the way."

Francis was taken by the girl - Lisa's - confidence. She was soft-spoken but assertive and he had seen it all before in the form of a girl who was so religiously devoted to her faith, not even fighting a war could stop her attending mass. Taking Lisa's hand and giving it a gentle kiss, Francis introduced himself to the young woman, "I am Francis Bonnefoy. Tell me Lisa, what do you know about the 100 Years War?"

"Not that much." Lisa admitted sheepishly as she took her hand back from Francis' grasp.

Francis gestured to the cobblestone path ahead of them, leading to the castle. He knew of a look out he often liked to point the tourists to; a place with a view so beautiful he was certain not any value of money would equate to it.

"Mont Saint Michel stood firm during the 100 Years War." Francis explained as he walked alongside Lisa, "It's unyielding resistance to the English inspired my people, the French, during the war, particularly the Maiden of Orleans."

"Joan of Arc." Lisa smiled and recalled, "I know a bit about her. In the end she was betrayed by her own people, wasn't she?"

"I'm not sure it was that simple." Francis frowned as he took in the girl in front of him and thought of the girl he had last seen in 1431.

"I suppose not." Lisa nodded.

Francis smiled a little as he watched the girl, the song still swirling in his brain. He whispered under his breath; "To God I pray to prosper thee, For I am still thy lover true."