Bigger Army Diplomacy

XXII

       Jack burried his face in his hands as the letter that he had read crushed every single hope that was currently starting to come true. "Damnit!" He didn't realize that tears were streaming down his face until he looked up and slammed his head back down. "Damnit France!" He wasn't one to swear very often, but something like that just crushed him, even though he knew that France had left on her mother's accord.

Wales, hearing her brother curse loudly from the other room, came barging in, saying, "MOM SAID NO SWEARI-" but noticed his eyes, bloodshot from crying so much.

"You okay?" Jack felt a weight dip down his bed, knowing that Wales had come to sit next to him, but not really acknowledging it. Jack said nothing.

Wales, realizing that Jack didn't want to talk yet still wanted to comfort him, just sat next to him. Because she's a good sister.

After a minute or two, a knock at the door interrupted this carefully planned sibling bonding moment.

"I'll get it." Jack muttered, wiping some tears away and then walking up to the door, feeling a set of eyes on him but not showing any sign he knew.

It was Germany. Jack had gotten his letter about two weeks ago, soaking up every word, mostly because Germany hadn't been there in what, nine years? Ten years? Jeez, a decade.

"Hello," Jack refrained from his voice hitching up.

"Hey," He waved. "Have jou been crying?"

"Lovely introduction. Haven't seen you in a decade and the first thing you say is 'have you been crying'?

"What else would you like me to say?" The taller man looked down at his (frankly short) friend, watching him trying to figure out whether Germany was joking or not. (oh yeah btw Germany is freakishly tall like 2.05m and Jack is like 1.75m so yeah France (1.8m) is taller than Jack- random world building)

When Jack started to laugh, Germany knew that he finally knew what Germany was saying. A swift invite later, Wales was attacking this person with claims of 'STRANGER DANGER'

On the waves of the English Sea, France paced idly in her cabin, bored out of her mind. For some unknown reason, she wasn't allowed out of her room, with food being delivered to her room. The only good thing to come out of this? She knew who her dad is.

Vichy Monarchy, supposedly the 'ruler' of the lower half of the French Territory, yet it seemed as though he was the ruler of all of it, because he seemed as though he was controlling her mother. (No, monarchy's name is not monarchy monarchy. Vichy ain't her dad)

And France hated him. Sure, hate was a strong word, but France thought it was fitting for this man who she called her father for ten minutes, before realizing how much of a jerk he was.

Someone came into her room just as her stomach rumbled, commenting something that was soon lost to the wind. France quickly noticed that it was Verillas, a servant of her father, and by association, a servant of her. Disgusting.

"Let me see my father." France declared.

"I don't think that's a good idea miss, he's not in a very good mood right now."

"I don't give a shit of what my fathers mood is, let me fucking see him!" Verillas said nothing, letting France go ahead out of her cabin.

She found her father's cabin in less than five minutes, seeing as it was near her own. She barged right in, not caring where he was busy or not. An untacked map flew across the room.

"Wha-" And then she promptly punched him.

In a snap of her father's fingers, she was taken to the holding cell.