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The Scent of a Rose	By : larien04 Category: +G to L > Hetalia: Axis Powers Views: 2855 -:- 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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They were gone by morning and Arthur got the report that London was completely ablaze; 900 plus fires had been reported throughout the course of the night and there weren’t enough fire fighters.

After the grim report by the soldiers he rushed outside to survey the damage to the once fair city and his senses were assaulted by the smell of…war. That was the only word that could be used to describe the smell of 900 fires and 400 dead. Hitler was going to pay for this.

Arthurs mind went into strategy mode as he walked along the smoky streets; in an extremely morbid way London was still as beautiful as ever he thought to himself. London, and on a grander scheme England as a nation was going to be the phoenix of this war; let Hitler send his bombs, the English would never surrender.

They hadn’t lost, yet, and part of the reason for that was because the Royal Air Force was unmatched in their technology and skill, the other part being that Arthur was an amazing strategist. All they needed was more men and he had already gotten word that the Canadians were willing to help with the Royal Canadian Air Force and that some Americans were even enlisting in the RCAF to come help fight. The free French were willing to fight and so were a smattering of other countries opposed to Nazi Germany.

“If we all worked together we could have a force to be reckoned with…” he mused continuing his miserable stroll through the blazing city.

The raids continued as usual over the course of the next four days with the loss of the radar equipment at Waterloo Station being the only major damage they suffered. England was able to hold its own with the help of their allies and by the end of the week a portion of the Royal Air Force, under Arthurs direct orders were en route to Berlin to make a counter attack and let Hitler know that not only had he not broken their spirits but they were still strong enough to fight back and not only play defense.

Things were working out exactly as Arthur had planned, with the growth in numbers and so many people signing up to fight in the R.A.F., and with the implementation of the radar system they were able to have enough troops to keep the raids on Berlin constant and keep a home defense force. His plan worked so well that by the middle of the month there were reports that Hitler was trying to persuade Spain to join the war and help take down the Brits.

By the end of the month, with Arthurs strategy now fully implemented, and for the first time since July, the Battle of Britain was finally won and the final death count was that 1,733 German planes to 828 of the Royal Air Force.

Arthur knew better than to celebrate though, too many people were dead and too much of his city was destroyed. The battle was won but the war not over, still, the English had proven that they would not cow to Hitler or anyone else.

At the beginning of the new month, it seemed like Hitler’s strategy went something like “New month; new strategy” and the reports started to come in that it was now industrial sites and sea ports that were being focused on as opposed to just London.

Arthur did the only thing they really could do; send aid to the cities and as the saying goes ‘keep on keeping on. ’

Two weeks had passed and things were much the same as ever; death, war, and destruction had become a staple of life for the citizens of England. Hitler’s goal was to destroy the morale of the British since he couldn’t gain an aerial advantage over them and so far he was failing, Arthur had said it countless times to everyone he met ‘We will never bend, we will never break, we will be the beacon of light when everyone else fails around us. ”

The man in question was in the palace, as he always seemed to be nowadays, telling the troops which way to go, who to send aid to, and receiving reports of new cities and infrastructures that were bombed. He started to idly wonder how Francis was holding up, while looking over the latest edition of an underground newspaper published by the French Resistance.

He may have hated the frog but he worried about him nonetheless, they had known each other for centuries, and they may have had their disagreements in the past but that didn’t mean that Arthur liked the idea of France being occupied. He pictured Francis wearing a swastika and shuddered at the thought. Arthur just hoped that Francis would be able to hold on until he could figure out a way to save him.

His thoughts were interrupted as a soldier came into his study, screaming his head off that Coventry Cathedral was under attack. Arthur’s eyes narrowed at the words; how dare they destroy a church?

“Do what you can to help the citizens get out safely, send the fire brigade to the church” was his automatic response.

“Sir, Mr. Kirkland, sir, you don’t understand; we tried that, sir, but they set fire to almost every street in Coventry. They’ve even bombed the fire station and the fire brigade can no longer send their men out. The water mains are destroyed in Coventry and there isn’t enough water to put out the fires…” the soldier spoke urgently.

Arthur’s heart wrenched for his people “Do the most logical thing then you git; send the rescue team from neighboring cities, save as many as you can!” he barked the order and the soldier was gone in an instant.

The next morning it was reported that 600 citizens of Coventry were reported dead and approximately 1,000 more were injured with 4,000 homes destroyed and 3/4^th of the city’s factory’s and businesses were now destroyed. Later the term “Conventrated” would be used as a military term to describe levels of destruction in other towns.

A month would pass and similar reports would start becoming all too familiar, there was a report of Birmingham Cathedral suffering the same sort of fate as Coventry and Arthur started to wonder if it was Hitler’s objective to try and kill off God while he was at it.

Up to this point Arthur had merely been dealing with things and reports as they came, he had forces spread out to almost nightly raids in Germany and some scattered forces in Africa and he was getting complacent in his duties and that bothered him. This was war; he wasn’t supposed to get complacent damnit; he needed something to do other than give orders and tally up death counts.

Arthur walked down the corridor of the palace and listened to a conversation two soldiers were having about Christmas.

“The Germans didn’t stop for Christmas, do you think they’ll stop for New Years?” the soldier asked hopelessly.

“Don’t be stupid” the other responded “the Germans won’t stop till we’re all dead. ”

Opening the door to the main steps of the palace Arthur let out a breath he had no idea he was holding and looked up at the sky for guidance. He wasn’t seeking out God, he wasn’t praying, he was just…hoping. He was daring to hope that soon this would be over so he could live life again.

Sighing, he went back inside, ready to read more reports and give out more orders, and sign more official orders.

“What time is it?” he asked offhandedly, signing his name to a form.

“Sunday morning, sir; December 29^th.”

A/N: The next chapter will be one of the last chapters dealing with the events of WW2 because, after all, this is a FRUK story, and not a history lesson and Chapter 8 I will probably be fast forwarding quite a bit to the liberation of Paris so that our two lovers can finally re-unite. I’m sure some of you were wondering when I was going to get to the good part, non?
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The Scent of a Rose