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The Scent of a Rose	By : larien04 Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2849 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia and I make no money off of this fic!

Chapter List
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Francis had pulled away first so that he could get a glimpse of the jade eyes he was so fond of. He knew from experience that he had about 45 seconds to a minute to say whatever he wanted to Arthur before the British nations brain functions started to work again.

“So, does this mean that you’re staying another night?”

“I suppose it would be… rude of me to leave so abruptly, I did come all the way here…” the British nation made a poor attempt at justifying things.

With his brain functioning again, Arthur blushed furiously as if he had just gotten caught doing something wrong “You know, just because I momentarily had a lapse in judgment doesn’t mean that you’re off the hook, you lecher, I still want some solid evidence.”

Francis laughed “Arthur, you are as stubborn as ever,et c'est pourquoi je t'aime”

“I’m going to have to find a new nickname for you” Arthur said seriously “I kissed you; but you’re still a frog.”

Francis grinned “Why, Arthur, mon amour, was that your attempt at a joke? Maybe some magic was worked after all, non?”

Frowning, Arthur pushed the man off of him and started to the bathroom “I’m getting a shower, do you think you can behave for 20 minutes?”

The Frenchman turned thoughtful “Hmm, I do not know, maybe I should come shower with you so you can keep an eye on me.” The sound of a door slamming promptly followed.

Standing under the hot shower Arthur finally allowed himself a content smile. He wasn’t sure what he expected when he came to Paris, he only came to congratulate Francis, right? ‘Give it up, you stubborn old man’ his heart told him ‘you came here because you couldn’t bear to be without him any longer.’ Obstinately refusing to believe that he had been harboring such disgustingly romantic feeling for over four years he rubbed the shampoo into his scalp a little harder than necessary as if the motion would silence his thoughts.

Arthur emerged a short time later towel drying his hair and Francis shook his head “You know, the reason your hair isn’t as beautiful as my own is because you do things like this. It really stresses you hair when you do that.”

Arthur rubbed his hair dry a little more vigorously for emphasis and folded the towel neatly “You know, Francis, maybe the reason my hair isn’t as beautiful as yours is because I don’t want to be mistaken for the female in this relationship.”

“You are the female in this relationship” Francis muttered under his breath.

“What was that, frog?”

“I only said that I know how to give you your proof, I have it at my house.”

Arthur stopped in his tracks; he didn’t think that Francis actually had proof. Could it really be so easy? Had the key to his past been here this entire time? What was going to happen if he remembered? Would his entire life change? His thoughts were interrupted by the feeling of lips pressed onto the back of his neck.

“Let’s take it one step at a time, cher; why don’t we go check out first.” Francis didn’t like to see usually confident man so worried. He was worried enough for the both of them, what if what he had didn’t make Arthur remember? What if Arthur never remembered; the doctors did say that was a possibility…

The two nations checked out of the hotel and took a cab to Francis’ house; the journey had been uneventful with both countries worrying over the notion that in a few short minutes Arthur could have his memory back.

After a brief spat over who was going to pay for the taxi, in which Arthur insisted that he wasn’t helpless and Francis insisting that Arthur was a guest and should therefore not have to pay, the couple stood outside the house while Arthur admired the architecture.

The house was Victorian in style, a personal favorite of Arthurs, and the small garden in the front had a beautiful structure of vines that ran along the frame of the forest green front door; a stark contrast to the white of the house.

Francis unlocked the door and took a deep breath before taking Arthurs hand in his and pulling the man inside.

The interior of the large house was flawless as if nobody had lived in it for years and in truth nobody had. The Frenchman went around opening the shades that had been pulled down long ago and a layer of dust flew from the motion. The sunlight poured over the room showing just how long it had been since someone had dusted anything.

Arthur walked slowly and deliberately into the sitting room where a large bookshelf spread across the expanse of the back wall. The shelf was lined with classics, ranging from Chaucer to Shakespeare and they all seemed to have been read many times before. There seemed to be books on almost every subject too, there was an entire section of history books on the histories of the Houses of Hanover and Windsor, there was also a good sized collection of books on domestic matters such as embroidery and gardening.

Francis watched with mixed emotions as Arthur picked up the copy of A Midsummers Night’s Dream and clutched it to his chest.

“Just because it’s not one of his love stories doesn’t mean it wasn’t a classic” Arthur spoke softly to himself.

“Qu'est-ce que tu racontes?” Francis asked moving to stand next to Arthur, curious as to what the English nation was going on about.

Dropping the book he was holding Arthur clutched his head as if he was in pain “Fuck” he swore “What the hell was that?”

Putting his arm around the Englishman Francis helped him to the day sofa that seemed to be conveniently placed near the window for the best reading light. “Arthur, ce qui ne va pas?”

“My head hurts enough, don’t make me have to go over there and search for a French to English dictionary” he retorted.

“There are several over there in case you wanted one” the Frenchman grinned.

“But why?” Arthur’s brow was furrowed in confusion “Why do you have books on the British Monarchy, why are there books on rose gardens and why did I see that?”

“Qu'avez-vous vu?!” the French nation resisted the urge to grab Arthur and shake it out of him.

“I think it was a memory. It’s hard to tell, it was only there for a moment; it was almost like a movie playing in my head. I know how insane that sounds…Tell me, frog, have I been in this room before?”

“Yes.” Francis breathed “Yes. So many times, mon amour. Is that what you saw?”

“No. Well, yes; you were there as well. I was reading that book, and you came up behind me and plucked the book from my hands, kissing me on the neck.” Arthur blushed, embarrassed to relay the romantic image. “Did…did that happen?”

Wrapping Arthur in an embrace Francis kissed the top of his head “Yes, mon amour. Arthur, it’s working! I knew this would help you. “What else do you remember?”

“Nothing specifically, but everything seems so familiar here. Francis, why has nothing been touched in this house in some time? What is my connection to this house?”

Francis sighed “This is our house and we were very happy here once. When you lost your memory I couldn’t return here; there are so many memories that we made over the course of the year that it became impossible to live here without you.”

“Our house…” Arthur looked around like he was seeing the house in a completely different light. All it once it was someone pushed the ‘play’ button on a movie that had been permanently on pause. Images swirled in his mind and his head felt like it was going to explode from the sheer flooding of information and then Arthur went limp.

“Arthur?!” Francis called, shaking the Brit “Êtes-vous d'accord?!” Noticing his love was merely unconscious and not harmed in any way he got up so he could lay the man across the sofa. “Je serai juste ici quand vous vous réveillez” he whispered softly, saying a silent prayer to God that Arthur would remember everything when he woke up.

Right around the time that Francis was about to pull his hair out from the stress and waiting Arthur groaned in protest “Bloody hell, was I unconscious?”

“Arthur, mon amour, you are awake finally! You passed out like a little girl; luckily I was there to save you. ”

“Francis?” Arthur’s brain was fuzzy at the moment and he made an attempt to sit up to get a better hold of his surroundings but Francis gently pushed him back down.

The French nation’s stomach twisted painfully, “Arthur, what do you remember?”

Arthur was silent for a moment, waiting for the haze to go away and then clear jade eyes met blue “Everything. ”

A/N: It literally took me all weekend to write this. I knew exactly what I wanted to say, and had this beautiful imagery in my head but could not transpose it for the life of me.

Translations:

…et c'est pourquoi je t'aime-…and that is why I love you.

“Qu'est-ce que tu racontes?- What are you talking about?

Arthur, ce qui ne va pas?-Arthur, what’s wrong?

Qu'avez-vous vu? - What did you see?

Êtes-vous d'accord?!- Are you ok?!

Je serai juste ici quand vous vous réveillez-I’ll be right here when you wake.
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The Scent of a Rose