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11 December 2016 @ 04:59 pm
The evil that we know.  
Fandom: Hetalia Axis Powers.
Title: The evil that we know.
Claim: Arthur Kirkland (England); Liam (Kirkland) (Northern Ireland); Francine Bonnefoy (Fem!France)
Summary: Arthur never had a good relationship with his half-sister Francine, but when his letter of acceptance came in the mail, she was the only one he thought to call. Francine would understand.
Prompt: #28 - Even newborn birds will someday soar through the sky.
Notes: This is an AU strongly focused on Arthur (England) and Liam (OC. Northern Ireland). I probably should start the "Liam/Arthur" fandom because I haven't read a proper hetalia fanfic in over two years by now. Francine makes  alonger appearance this time, but it's still pretty much Arthur's point of view.


Mother finished doing the buttons in his coat.

Outside the sun had been shining through the windows panes for an hour now, but the house had a lingering breeze that had both Arthur and Francine shivering despite the sweaters and sweatpants they had used earlier that day.

"Can we go now?” Francine asked in an impatient voice. She was sitting on the couch with a coat over her ballet outfit. “We’ll be late and then Madam Arlovskaya won’t let me in,”

Mother sent a warning glare her way that shut the teen up for a moment. Lately, they couldn’t agree on anything except that Francine should be on time for her appointments. Francine had had a shower, done her hair and dressed in her training attire before walking on her mother dressing Arthur.

Pointing how faster things would be if he learnt how to do his buttons, or laces, or everything else without help had slowly but surely got on their mother’s nerves.

“Yes, we can. There,” mother gave her the keys, “open the car and load your things. Arthur,, sweetie, you’ll be mum’s little helper today okay? You’ll have to sit quietly while we’re at the firm and…”

Francine pressed her lips together before disappearing through the door. He should know how to do things by now – he was six, he wasn’t a useless baby anymore! But useless, yes, that he still was.

She was going to be late, again.

---------

Arthur smiled politely to her mother’s colleges. Francine, at his side, had the same smile plastered on her lips, but her eyes wandered from time to time to her mobile. She had a boyfriend two years older than her and she had been texting him for two hours straight without their parents noticing.

That would be excellent blackmail material if it wasn’t for the fact that he could still feel the hands of her sister around his neck from the time he threatened her with spilling the beans to their father. She had been furious and the screams of ‘that bastard is your father, not mine, you useless waste of air’ still resonated in his ears and his throat hurt a little when he sipped water.

He had never repeated those words to her, but he would always be wary of her hands. He’d be wary of those thin, aristocratic, long fingers that had clasped around his neck with a vice grip.

“Such a gentleman and well-educated young lady you have, Alice,” one of their mother’s college said, pinching Arthurs cheek with a little more force than would be appreciated. “You must be so proud of them,”

Arthur and Francine offered even brighter smiles before ignored the woman and the conversation all together. They shared a long-suffering look. Just two hours more of that dinner and they would be returned to their room, their roles already fulfilled for the night.

“Well, thank you, Amanda. I am very proud of my children. Francine is the top of her class and has already received several offers for university,”

Arthur looked at her sister flinching at those words. She had sent her applications letters and had been accepted into all six of them. Mother had been proud, glowing like the sun when coming after a long, stormy day. Father had taken them for dinner to an expensive restaurant and mother had forced Francine to share the news with all the family.

Francine had seemed like a prisoner who had just be told she would be executed instead of gaining her appellation. But she was a good actress, Arthur knew, because their parents still thought she was choosing Oxford for her degree in Law. They still thought she was choosing Law.

“Is that so? Congratulations, sweetie! Alice, what a lucky woman! She’s not only pretty, but also has brains. Let’s hope she finds a husband that can keep up with her,”

At age ten, Arthur knew those words were offensive, somehow, if his sister looked as if she wanted to pull her hands around that woman’s neck as well and choke until her eyes left their sockets. But instead, Francine giggled and behaved girlish, and thanked.

She was a good actress.

---------

Having a sister had been a curse for so long that Arthur never thought he would be missing her. It was far-fetched, unrealistic.

“You’re coming back, right?” he found himself whispering from the entrance door of his sister’s bedroom. She was packing, throwing everything into her two large baggages, avoiding his eyes. “Francine…?”

She paused for a brief moment, and Arthur saw her hands trembling. Francine’s hands trembled when she was holding back her real tears, not those she cried every time she wanted to have her way.

“Perhaps,” she hissed through gritted teeth and her hands kept trembling as she piled cloth over cloth. “I’ll call you; keep your mobile with you. I’ll keep in touch via Skype, too,”

Arthur felt his hands tremble as well and an annoying sting on the corner of his eyes.

“But will you come back?” he asked her then. “France is not that far, you can always take a train back home. We’ll pick you up from Dover and have dinner – mum said so…”

“Perhaps, Arthur,” she hissed. “Get out of here, I’m packing.”

Mother had said so when Francine was supposed to go to Oxford to study Law. But Francine had been waiting for her last letter of acceptance to come back, and she was moving to Paris, to study dancing. Eduard would pick her up at the airport and she had been happy – and mother had been furious when Francine told her she was going to Paris, to the Conservatoire de Paris.

“Francine…”

Out!

Arthur had the impression she was never coming back. He would never see her again and he didn’t know whether to be happy or ask her to stay with him.

---------

When his letter of acceptance came, Arthur knew exactly who he was calling first.

“Well, sourcils, congratulations. This makes us two disappointments; do you want to go for an ice cream? Ian has a trip to Manchester next week, get ready and I’ll treat you to lunch,”

She had sounded happy, carefree. She had changed, Arthur had realised that during her wedding, looking how happy she was, how free she looked. She had even let Robert have a dance with her, a small nod to his role in her life, but it had been too obvious how she had been thrilled to have her father back in her life. Maybe that was why she had become nicer with Arthur after moving away.

Arthur could only guess.

“Is it okay for you to exploit your husband’s business trips?”

“You little brat,” she sighed, “the word you’re searching is ‘thank you, my beloved sister’. Now shut that mouth and wait until next week,”

Arthur sighed and hanged up shortly after that. Their parents would be disappointed, angry, perhaps. Mother had been given him pamphlets of the best Law Schools and Business Schools in the country three years prior graduation, but he was not interested. He had sent his letters and hoped against hope to be accepted in Oxford – and had been thankful, for the first time, that his parents were never home anymore to get the mail before him.

It was time, it was, he told to himself. It was time to get out of his parent’s shadows – he was an adult, it was his life. But then, why the hell was he running to hide behind his sister’s skirts?

(Because he didn’t want to spend three years in probation, without anyone there, being kicked out of the family – like she had been, but she had had her father. He only had Francine).

Closing his eyes, Arthur pulled the covers over his head. He had made up his mind. It was time.
 
 
My feelings: accomplishedaccomplished