#aph France x fem Spain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

childofthemoon86 · 6 years

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@francisandtheworldweek Day 2: Victorian era

Third time’s the Charm

Pairing: (pre)FrUk, implied past Frain Characters: France, fem England, America, Canada, fem Spain (mentioned) Rating: k+ Word count: 3520 Cross posted on FF.net Summary: Life hasn’t always been easy for Francis, but when he finds himself forced to hire a new governess to care for his boys while he works, things may just be about to get a whole lot more complicated. Note: Based on the same au as this post I did for FrUk week.

Sometimes, life is easy. The day goes by like a good summers breeze, everything flows neatly together like an uninterrupted stream. Other times, life is oh so hard. You feel like the weight of the world is pressing down on you, judging you. Even the simplest of things become herculean tasks, and one wrong move is all it takes to be drowned by the rapids. Francis suspects today is going to be one of those days. “Alfred get dressed! Our guest will be here any minute!” He scolds the boy again, that’s three times this morning now. He watches the boy huffily stomp back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him, before returning his attention to the mirror, making last minute adjustments to his cravat and waistcoat. There, now at least he looks presentable, if only the boys were so easy to manage. He spots the boy’s door open again, and this time Alfred finally emerges wearing the clothes Francis had set out for him. Behind him, Matthew slowly trails out. “Matthew, come here mon chou.” Francis smiles as his son makes his way over. With one hand he directs the boy to stand with his back to him, and with the other, he grabs a comb from the desk, quickly getting to work sorting the boy’s bedhead. “I don’t get why we have to get all dressed up.” Alfred complains from the side, before Francis pulls him over and gets to work on his hair too. “Because,” Francis reminds, frowning slightly as he concentrates “it’s important that we all make a good impression.” Finally satisfied, Francis let’s the boys go for the moment, with strict instructions not to get dirty before the guest arrives. While they disappear off into the house, Francis heads for the parlour, checking everything is in order on the way. Really, he knows it’s not strictly necessary for the house to be in perfect order, or for the boys to be so tidy, but he really does want to make a good impression. Of course, he hasn’t exactly told the boys just who is coming, but he suspects Alfred knows. Or at least he hopes that’s why the boy’s been acting out so much lately. Ever since his dear wife died of scarlet fever nearly two years ago, he had been relying on Isabella, their governess to care for them. She had been a good friend, a really good friend and comfort after his loss. Or so he thought, until he found out she was pregnant with another man’s child. As much as it pained him, he had to send her away. For the sake of his boys, he couldn’t be seen to have a governess maintaining relations with another, let alone one who is pregnant. He still hopes she’ll be okay… But now, after three weeks alone and work demands at the factory picking up, he has no choice but to hire a new governess. He was careful in his selection. They had to be smart, good at taking care of such a large house and two young children, and above all else, they must understand their boundaries. Francis won’t be burned again, he’s suffered enough pain. So here he is, anxiously awaiting their arrival. As the grandfather clock chimes ten, three short knocks come at the door. Right on time. Quickly he opens the doors, smiling coldly, he greets, “You must be Alice, correct?” Before him stands a young woman in her early twenties, dressed in a simple white blouse and long green skirt which, Francis berates himself for noticing, brings out her forest green eyes, and her long blonde hair is tied up in two simple pigtails. “Yes sir.” She agrees with a slight bow of the head, and Francis can’t help his smile turning warmer. She clearly knows her place in society, just like he wanted. Still, there’s something in her eyes that makes Francis curious. She doesn’t smile, keeping her face neutral, but it almost feels like she’s frowning at him just from the depths of her eyes. Turning away, he looks back into the house, sighing at the lack of children in sight. “Boys, come here for a moment.” He calls into the parlour, waiting patiently for the sound of two pairs of feet to come running. Once the children are within sight, he ushers them over with a wave of the hand. “I want to introduce you to your new governess,” he smiles, turning to the young woman in the doorway, “Boys, meet Alice. Alice, meet my children and your new charges, Alfred and Matthew.” “Hello, Alfred. Matthew.” She greets in the same neutral tone. As expected, Matthew shyly ducks behind Francis’s legs to hide, he’s always been slow to warm up to new people. But Alfred’s reaction is more unexpected as he curls his hands into fists and angrily stomps his foot. “So your just going to replace Issy? Like you replaced mum?” Al cries, face scrunched up in hurt. “No, mon chou, that’s not-” Francis tries to explain, but Alfred isn’t for listening. “Why do you always have to take everyone away from me?! I hate you!” Before Francis can get another word in, Al throws off his good coat and runs up stairs, the sound of a door slamming comes shortly after. He sighs, placing a hand on Matthew’s back, before returning his attention to Alice. “I’m sorry you had to see that, Alfred has been having some trouble adjusting since I sent their last governess away.” Something like pity flashes across Alice’s eyes before being buried beneath cold indifference. “It’s quite alright. It’s only natural that it will take time for the boys to get used to me.” “Yes,” Francis agrees slowly, before shaking himself out of his stupor, “Anyway, please come in.” He steps aside with Matt still attached to him, letting Alice in before noticing the time. “Merde! Is it that late already?” He panics, if he doesn’t leave now, he’s going to be late to the factory. “There is a list in the study of everything you need to do. If I am not back by six, only make dinner for the boys.” He tells Alice, before turning to kneel by Matt. “Matthew, be a good boy while I am gone, and try to get along with Alice, Alright?” Quietly, Matt nods, before Francis hurries to depart. Now alone with Just Matt, Alice directs her stare to him and demands, “Show me to the study so I may begin.” X Francis sighs tiredly. It’s late, nearly nine o’clock, far later than he planned to return home. On the plus side his textiles are booming, but managing all of the demand from just one factory is almost too much. And he really could have gone without those five accidents today. He really does pity the children that work so hard for him, but that’s just how things are. He made a promise long ago that he would do everything he could to keep his sons from such a life, and if that means working others to the bone, so be it. When he finally returns home, he stands in shock at just how, clean, everything is. He had thought the house was tidy before he left, but he never realised how much dust had built up in the place. Even when Isabella was here, the house never looked this good. It’s also suspiciously quiet. “Alfred? Matthew?” He calls, but the one who greets him is neither. “Welcome home sir.” Alice nods, coming from the direction of the kitchen. “Where are the boys?” “Asleep.” “At this time?” Francis is shocked, they never go to bed when he tells them. “Yes. Alfred was disobedient, so I punished him. And Matthew chose to stay quiet rather than come to me when his brother started the fire, so I had to punish him too.” “Fire?!” “Yes,” Alice repeats, sounding annoyed, “In the back garden, he then attempted to hide in the old oak tree. He refused to come down for several hours, so I sent them both to bed without dinner.” Francis’s mouth opens and closes, before he sighs heavily, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I will have a word with him. He really is a good boy you know, they both are.” Rather than comment, Alice switches the subject, “Would you like me to draw you a bath before dinner?” “Ah, oui, merci.” Nodding, she disappears, leaving Francis to go check on the boys. The sound of sniffling can be heard through the door, and Francis sighs sadly again as he enters. “Oh ma chérie.” He breathes at seeing Al sitting by the window, trying to not cry, but his eyes are still clearly red and puffy. He can see Matt silently watching from his bed to the side too. “What happened? Alice said-” “I hate her!” Al cries, voice sounding chocked, “Why’d you have to bring her here?” “Haa, you know why. I need someone to look after you two while I’m gone.” “But Issy-!” “Isabella can’t come back. Please Alfred, just try to get along with Alice. For me, please?” When Al only sniffles and looks away, Francis turns to Matt, “And Matthew, why didn’t you tell Alice Alfred was misbehaving?” “I don’t like her.” Matt whispers, as if he’s afraid she’ll hear him, “She doesn’t smile, she only shouts at us, and when we told her we were hungry, she sent us to bed.” “And the fire?” “I was just trying to have some fun.” Al protests. “Alright. No more fires from now on, you know that’s dangerous. Now come on, let’s see about getting some dinner in you two.” Francis leads the boys down to the kitchen, where he finds Alice starting to prepare food. “Alice, the boys have something to say to you.” He looks to them expectantly, and begrudgingly they apologise. “Good, now would you make them some supper as well?” She frowns at them slightly before nodding, “If that is what you want sir.” “It is.” “Very well. Your bath is ready, dinner should be served once your done.” “Good, now boys, be nice.” Before Francis can leave, Alice turns to him, “Will you be needing any assistance?” “No, just leave a fresh set of clothes out for me, that will be all.” “As you wish sir.” X Dinner wasn’t what Francis had expected, but at least the boys seemed to be trying to get along with Alice. Or maybe they were simply too hungry to cause trouble. Either way Francis is relieved. Over the course of the next few weeks they settle into a new routine, and, thankfully, the number of incidents goes down, but Alfred and Matthew still seem distant around Alice. Francis knows he can’t force them to get along, but he really does wish things would be better. Maybe they just need more time. And for a while, things remained the same, stagnant. Until one night on All Hallows’ Eve. Francis returned home early for once, something Alice clearly hadn’t planned for. When he arrived, he was surprised to find the house in complete darkness. Curious, he headed up to the boy’s rooms, shocked to find it locked, and even more so to hear his sons crying inside. Hurriedly, Francis found the spare key in the study, and through the door open to find his sons huddled together on Al’s bed, crying and shaking. “Boys! What’s wrong, what happened, where’s Alice?” But no matter how much he asked, neither of his sons could give him a coherent answer, so Francis was left with no choice but to go looking for the one who should be caring for them. “Stay here, I’m going to get to the bottom of this.” He knows Alice has a tendency to be strict with the boys, but she has never broken his rule against striking the children, and he can see no sign of injuries, so something else must have frightened them. But as he wonders the house, he feels a strange chill run down his spine, and has the foreboding sense of being watched. He makes his way to the kitchen, but still no sign of Alice. But as he turns to leave, he hears the screech of a chair, and turns just in time to see it flying through the air, straight for him. Francis ducks and the chair sails over his head, but before he has time to process what’s happening, another two are mysteriously launched at him. He dodges one, but the second hits his back, knocking him to the ground. Winded, he shivers suddenly feeling ice cold, and a voice he thought he’d never hear again whispers, “why did you betray meeee?” Confused, he looks up, only for his blood to run cold and the colour drain from his face as he comes face to face with his deceased wife. “Why did you betray meeeee?!” She screeched, snatching a knife from the counter, and plunging it down on him. He closes his eyes and braces for the pain, but, it never comes. After a few tense seconds, he peaks an eye open to see his wife, or rather her ghost, frozen in place, knife dangling mere inches from his neck. Her mouth and eyes hang open in a soundless scream, and it’s then that he notices just how transparent she is. He can see right through her. Snapping out of his shock, he scrambles back until he hits the wall behind him, staring in terror. Then he notices something else, a thin green light, crackling like that strange new electricity, is wrapped around the ghost’s body like a rope. Then, he hears a voice, one he knows is very real, and very much alive. “Run Francis! I can’t hold her much longer!” Francis wonders how he never noticed her before now, but there is Alice, leaning heavily against the kitchen doorway, the dark lit by the glow of her eyes. “Run! Run to the children!” Had Francis more of his sense about him, he might have noticed how out of breath and tired Alice sounds, but at that moment, all he can think about is getting away, away and to find his precious boys. So he ran, scrambling to his feet, he dives through the pantry, out to the parlour, into the hall, up the stairs, and down the corridor to the boy’s room, all the while cursing how big the house is. He bursts in, and launches himself at the pair, still huddled together where he left them. He holds them close as his heart races. Below, a pained screech rings out, and a terrible crash clatters throughout the house as a blinding white light seems to emanate from the very air itself, before everything falls horribly silent and darkness returns. It takes more courage than Francis ever thought himself to possess before that night to lead his boys out and down the stairs, determined to get them out. But before he opens the front door, he turns to look towards the kitchen. Taking a breath to steady his nerves, he tells his sons to wait for him here. Quietly, he slinks into the kitchen, where everything is worryingly still. But no ghost is in sight, and, if he had not been looking, he might not of heard the shallow breathing by the pantry. “Alice!” He hurries over to her, finding her lying amongst the vegetables. “It’s okay,” she tells him weakly, and for the first time, she smiles, “Your safe. Your all safe,” before passing out. X Birds chirp in the trees by the house as Francis paces by Alice’s bed, his boys sitting outside listening in. Alice, the governess he so carefully picked for his sons, after last night, she can only be one thing. She must be a witch. But can witches be good? Francis may not be the most religious of people, but even he knows that God disapproves of witches, they’re work is the devils work after all. She did save him, of that much he’s sure. But to what end? To think, a witch living under his roof all this time. That he trusted her to care for them, for his boys! But… every time he thinks of kicking her out, of running to the nearest church to deal with her, he remembers her smile, and his heart aches at the thought of any harm coming to that gentle look. When she starts to stir, he halts his pacing. He knows what he has to do, and no matter how much it pains him, he has to know just what she intends to do. “Alice?” “Mmmhh….” “Alice, wake up.” She slowly blinks awake, confused eyes falling on him, before she suddenly sits up, “Sir!” Francis holds a hand out to stop her, frowning coldly down at her. “I have questions, and by God’s grace, you will answer me truthfully or so help me-!” He cuts himself off, blowing a breath out his nose, before restarting. “Are you a witch?” Alice looks away, her gaze falling to her hands folded in her lap. “Yes.” Francis knew it to be true, but hearing her admit it is still a shock. “What happened last night?” Slowly she looks up to meet his gaze, her eyes cold and swirling with a depth that’s almost terrifying to look at. “This house, from the first day I came here, I knew it was haunted. A vengeful spirit had been trying to bring harm upon you. You were supposed to be out late, you shouldn’t have returned before the ritual was done.” She frowns, “But you did.” “Ritual?” Francis doesn’t know if he should sound shocked or disbelieving. “Yes, to purge it from the house.” “And you were going to do this with the boys around?” This time he knows he sounds aghast at the idea of putting his boys in such danger. “No, I kept them out of harms way. I locked them in their room, I’d been warding it for a few weeks, no spirit can enter there now.” “This is ridiculous.” Francis shakes his head in disbelief. Alice looks away again, quietly mumbling, “I know you probably don’t believe me, but I was doing this to protect you.” “By putting my life in danger?!” “No! I never meant for you to be put at risk. The vail between the worlds is at it’s weakest on All Hallows’ Eve, the closer it got to then, the stronger the spirit became. I had to stop it, and last night was my best chance.” “… why?” “Eh?” Confused by the sudden change in Francis’s tone, Alice looks up. “Why did you do this? Why not just leave? A smart woman like you, I’m sure you’d find someone else to hire you. Wouldn’t it have been easier for you?” “I…” Alice frowns, unable to keep looking at Francis, she turns her head away, a blush tinting her cheeks red and her hands bundling the sheets in her fists. “What?” Francis blinks, “I didn’t hear you.” Alice mumbles something again, but it’s still to indistinctive for Francis to hear. “Sorry? Please, speak up.” “Because I have feelings for you!” She blurts, her face bright red and eyes slammed shut in embarrassment. Francis can only stare in shock, he had no idea she felt that way about him. All this time, he had been so determined not to fall for another, he never thought about how Alice might feel. “I… I couldn’t just walk away, and I couldn’t turn a blind eye. Not when I… cared so much for you.” She sighs, tears falling down her cheeks of their own accord. “But I know nothing can ever come of these feelings, so I tried to forget them, to push them away. But, that only made it hurt more every time I looked at you. I-I’m sorry things didn’t go how I planned, just please, please don’t hate me.” Francis continued to stare, mouth working, but no sound coming out. But the longer he stood there, watching Alice cry, the more his heart twisted painfully in his chest. And rather suddenly, he realised, he wanted to make those tears go away, he wanted to take all her pain away. He wants to see her smile again. Gently, he lifts a hand to her cheek, rubbing his thumb over the tear tracks, smiling softly he whispers, “I don’t hate you.” He watches as those words cause a glimmer of hope to flash in her eyes, and his heart twists more at the look. Sighing softly, he gives in. Francis is no fool, he knows exactly what this feeling is, he’s just been trying to ignore it, but really, how can anyone ignore love? Slowly he leans down, and, in a single breath, kisses her. It only lasts a moment, but when he pulls back, he sees that beautiful smile again, and that makes it all worth it. Perhaps it’s as they say, third time’s the charm.

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