They had finally reached the small town of Pierre and Arthur hopped out of the small carriage, his eyes glancing at the small house they were in front of and Francis tiptoed out of the carriage gracefully, humming a soft tune. 

“What’s the plan?“ Francis asked, coming next to Arthur’s side as Arthur turned towards them, his green eyes scanning the frenchmale and then responded, “I don’t want you coming.“ 

Francis moved in front of the smaller male and then let out an angry, “are you serious?" it sounded passive-aggressive and surely would have sent Arthur over the edge if he hadn’t been busy with adjusting his sword. 

“I am serious. You are in NO shape of participating in the fight.“ What Arthur had been saying made sense; he wasn’t the best sword fighter - in fact, he didn’t even know how, but Francis narrowed his eyes in defiant and responded with a, “you promised and look at you! Stabbed in the abdomen and having a black eye. Besides! You didn't even let Felicano touch your abdomen, so you know who has to? Me."  

Arthur narrowed his eyes, his bushy eyebrows angry as he criss-crossed his arms, clearly trying to think of something witty to say. When he didn’t have anything, he let out a loud groan and then responded, “well I am not trusting you with my life with your awful fighting skills-“ 

Francis didn’t even hear the ending of it and let out a surprised, “hey-“ 

“Let me finish, frog.“ Arthur growled, his voice grumpy as he then responded. “I’ll teach you how to use a sword correctly.“

Arthur trotted back towards the backyard, he veered his head to make sure that Francis was following and then began to move again. Francis noticed the body language and followed Arthur towards the back, only to be handed a sword. 

“A pirate’s greatest weapon is his trusty sword."  

Francis took the sword in his hands and noticed that it was the sword he thought he had lost while swimming towards the beach while carrying Arthur. 

“Where-?“ 

“Was in the sand. Take better care of this next time." Arthur yawned as Francis felt the sword in his hand. The sword seemed much lighter than he remembered and glanced up at Arthur, who had a strange look in his eyes. He seemed… interested in what Francis was doing. 

“What?“ Francis asked, his voice seemed a bit dry as Arthur shrugged his shoulders and grumbled, his emerald green eyes never fading off that bright color, even when he grumbled, “Frog.“ 

“Tch, is that the only insult you know?“ Francis smirked as Arthur’s bushy eyebrows narrowed down a bit, turning away as Francis ran a hand through his light, soft hair. “Thought so ~“ 

"No. I'm busy thinking about a good way of training you since we're going to be out here for a while." 

"Yikes!" Shouted the Frenchman as his sword wobbled in his hands. "Good thing I stretched before doing this…!" 

He didn't get a response from Arthur, who seemed to fixate his vision away from the Frenchmale and out towards the woods. 

"Iggy, what's on your mind?" 

"What! Nothing!" Arthur's attention snapped back to Francis and crossed his arms defiantly. "What makes you think I wanna gush or ask you something?" 

"I never said anything…" Francis paused as he watched Arthur's face whiten. 

"I… know." 

"Clearly something is on your mind and you're too deep in to not say anything ~" teased Francis, not expecting Arthur to cave. 

“Yanno… " Arthur whispered softly, startling Francis at the softness of the grumpy male. "About that question you asked in the woods, if I looked forward to something…" The British male trailed off in shyness as he didn’t continue his sentence, even when Francis beckoned him. The minutes of silence dragged on between them and for what felt like forever, Arthur managed to finally find his confidence and asked the frenchmale. "What do YOU desire to do after all of this is done?" 

“In the beginning before I got wrapped into this, I’d say that I fully knew what I wanted.“ 

“Beg your pardon?“ 

“If you recall, I wanted to sail away and become a famous pirate, having a beautiful chick on my arm but…“ 

“But what…?“ 

“Now I am not so sure, chèri…“ He responded quietly, he then hummed until the next question made Francis stop dead in your tracks. 

“Describe the .... perfect woman … man … partner …" He ended the sentence awkwardly and then didn’t say anything afterwards, even when he would open his mouth at times, no words fell out. 

“Hmm…" Francis responded, he tried to hold back a smile and only spotted the male softly glaring. "Don't look at me like that-! Nobody has asked me this question before…" 

"It's quite alright," Arthur softly exclaimed as Francis glanced over at Arthur and then responded, 

“Clearly, she would be smaller than me.“ He noticed Arthur nod quietly at that, not putting his input in nor asking any questions. 

“She’d have…" he dragged his words out, pretending that he was thinking heavily about what he would want. “Blonde hair.“

“Why blonde…?“ Arthur asked, this time butting in, clearly wanting to know if there were any motives behind this decision. 

“Dunno. She’d be … wearing oversized sweaters and … lots of green… !“ Francis let out a small, awkward chuckle as Arthur turned his expression towards the taller Frenchman. 

“G-“ 

“Ensuite~ !“ Francis interrupted the question that Arthur wanted to ask and closed his eyes. He didn’t know how he wanted to phrase this, but he went with his heart. “She’d have the most beautifullest eyes in the world." Francis dreamed as he began to play with his silky hair.

“What color ?“ 

“A beautiful shade… A beautiful shade of emerald green… “ 

The britishmale didn’t say anything until he let out a small huff. “Tch, why emerald…? Emerald isn’t a pretty shade.“ 

“You’re right, it isn’t pretty.“ 

“Se-“ 

“It’s the most beautifullest thing in my life, especially when I gaze into them.“ 

The britishmale seemed taken back by this and didn’t speak, how could he? He let out another scoff and shook his head. 

"Cliché. This sounds like you’re describing Joan. I should've known. She talks about you all the time after I gave you the advice that she doesn't like men with wild hair." 

"Really???" Francis dumbfoundingly choked out. Arthur's soft eyes hardened as he gave a quick nod. 

"Clearly you two are tying knots. Wouldn't expect a different outcome."

“Maybe," Francis began to smile softly until it stopped. Would he ever look at Arthur as a best friend again? His heart bounced as he crossed his arms. "However, what if I wasn’t?” Francis smirked as Arthur didn’t say anything, his fingers began to fumble with his sword. 

"You mean… you wouldn't date Joan? Why?" 

"You ask too many questions," Francis laughed as a dark image flashed across his memory. "Love is like water. Flowing and endless. It leaves you to many streams, lakes, oceans." 

"I see—" 

"Intentional pun? I seaaaaaa?" Francis cackled as Arthur's body launched forward. 

"Now, you listen here Bonnefoy!"

“What about you, Mr. Kirkland ?" The Frenchman asked and to his shock, Arthur let out a snicker and shook his head. 

“I don’t fancy any women in this town.“ 

“Oh. Heart back in England?” Francis asked, he felt his heart throb as he bit his lip. Arthur noticed the lip bite and didn’t respond as the fumbling sword laid still in his hand as the sleeve began to undress the silver blade. “I guess we should get started.“ 

"Yeah, that'd be wise." 

"Mhm," Arthur murmured quietly as Francis undressed his sword as he casted the silver blade into the shining light. 

The next 4 hours had been tough for the Frenchman, trying to get perfect positions and angles he should take, but he couldn’t stop daydreaming over the thought of the British-male’s green eyes. 

Arthur did a low sweeping kick, which knocked the frenchman off his feet, which caused the frenchman to veer his head upwards at the britishmale. 

“What is on your mind?“ Arthur demanded, his scowl was very light as he was more curious than angry. “You can’t be distracted in a fight!“ 

“I was just thinking about earlier, yanno?“ 

“Tch. Cliché“ Arthur stabbed his sword into the ground and crossed his arms, waiting for the male’s excuse to WHY he had been thinking back to their conversation. 

“It’s nothing really…“

“Then if it is nothing, why get distracted? What’s on thou mind?” 

“Old English? You don’t surprise me,” muttered Francis as Arthur only shrugged. “Like I said, not important, probably.” 

"Alright, get in position then." Arthur watched the Frenchman struggle as Arthur dropped his sword on the luscious grass and placed himself behind the French male. He felt the male's breath on his neck, which sent shivers down his spine.

"Adjust arm a little more," Arthur grabbed the purple cloths and lifted his arm higher and higher until he let go. "Like that." 

Face gleaming red, Francis stammered, "yanno… I… I… could've done it myself!!" 

"Then why didn't you?" Arthur pressed his chin down into Francis's shoulder while Francis veered his eyes onto Arthur's back door. 

"... You didn't give me a chance!!" 

"You have to get it right away if you wanna keep your head. Either allow me to critique and fix your positioning or stay out of this!" The heated British male demanded as Francis veered around to face the male. 

"... Fine. Just, I don't like being touched from behind." 

Arthur didn't question what the male meant as he gave a swift nod. "I'll try to fix it from the front then." 

"You're… not going to ask why or… demand anything from me?" Gasped out the Frenchman as Arthur narrowed his eyes. 

"It's none of my business. Back to training." 

The strikes that Arthur swung at Francis seemed quite easy compared to the night on the boat where he had found out Arthur's identity. Francis began to dreamily stare at Arthur until he felt cold metal make contact with his cheek. 

Francis blinked as he ran his black glove against a new wound that screamed out red blood. 

"... Shit," Arthur mumbled as Francis stared at the male in shock. "Don't. Freak. Out." 

"AGAIN???" Francis shouted, throwing down his sword as he wailed. "YOU'RE LUCKY I'M GOING TO —"

"Chill drama queen. I'll patch you up in the bathroom just like you will for me. It's time to go inside anyways." 

"You cut me!!!" Francis pressed his hand to his new wound and gave a frown as Arthur glanced over at Francis and gave the male an eye roll, heading inside the house. Francis glanced over at the night sky, the fading sun was off in the distance. He lifted himself off the ground, dusting the dirt that collected itself onto his clothing and murmured quietly to himself, “I should head home, I guess to patch myself up.”

“Did you seriously not hear me? You coming in?“ Arthur shouted, he had opened a window and was staring at Francis, his green eyes curious to what the male was doing. 

“Me?” Francis pointed to himself as Arthur only huffed. 

“No, I am talking to Joan behind you.” Francis spun around on his heels as Arthur let out a small snicker. 

“Hey-! I knew you were playing-!” Francis turned towards the Brit and jogged towards the screen door, opening it up and closing it shut behind him.