Disclaimer : Don't own Hetalia, alas.
Genre: Family, Friendship.
Characters: England/Arthur, France/Francis, some people you'll recognize
Rating: How could it be more than K+ (because of England's mouth) in that cute little OS?
Author Notes: What Hetalia fan could watch the royal British Wedding without think to our favorite characters somewhere in the crow? Especially the British Brothers…

Just for your information: English is not my first language, and even if someone on Deviantart corrected me (thanks a lot to her!), I maybe have some mistakes in my text. Please don't be mean with me, it's my first fanfic in english TT

Translations are at the bottom of the fic

Royal Wedding

On this morning of 29 April 2011, in a chamber of Buckingham Palace, Arthur Kirkland, also known as United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, was all but calm.
The room was in a mess which would have made faint the maids of the palace (if Arthur would have let them enter in his room) and despite of the preparation of the event of the year he had prepared since many weeks, England was taken short. Looking at his reflect in the mirror, he didn't seem to be uncomfortable in his black royal Calvary uniform.
In fact, he was completely panicked.

"It's alright, old boy", he muttered to himself, "This isn't the first time, you've known worse, everything is okay, everybody who was invited has come, and all this bloody mess will be over this night…."

He stayed still for a few seconds before taking his head between his hands (messing up his hair more than it already was) and stamping on site

"I'm awful! What am I doing here? I would prefer a meeting at America's house…no, I'm really in trouble if I think that…."

But he didn't stop and began to search in his wardrobe frenetically:

"Bloody hell, where is this fucking cap…?
-On the commode, mon cher."

England let out a shriek at the unexpected voice and jumped, hurting his head against one shelf. Cursing, he turned around to see his nearest neighbor/enemy/rival/ally/sort-of-friend France, alias Francis Bonnefoy, leaning casually against the opposite wall. Dressed in a handsome suit, as elegant and fashionable as always, the Frenchman was grinning, obviously satisfied to have managed to scare the former British Empire.

Glaring at the continental Nation, Arthur picked up his cap and put it on his head, turning then to the mirror to adjust it correctly; during this maneuver, he kept glaring at France with the reflect of mirror.

" you. Doing. Here? We wanted a correct weeding, so your president hasn't been invited today, nor your politics.
-But you didn't forbid me to come, Angleterre~. And I couldn't miss the show of my favorite British near to die because of a heart attack at the weeding of one his princes. Entente Cordiale oblige~."

Grumble something against the stupid treats which gave stupid excuses and forbid him to punch the Frog on the face (at least in public), Arthur turned and checked in mind all his outfit, trying to forget the annoying Frenchman, but it only managed to give him the impression he had to do it all again. Looking away, he said angrily:

"I can't kick you out now because I have other business to take care of, but as soon as this affair is over, I swear I…
-Relax, Arthur, you're so tense - it's as if someone's stuck a brush up your bottom. Why, it is a wonderful day for you and your royal family, non? Even if I can't understand why you British make such a history of this wedding. I saw London when I came here, it is really...special. They're a little bit like you, in a way.
-How surprising", England retorted sarcastically while he struggled with his medals (it was stuck. Yes it was. It wasn't because his hands were trembling at all, mind you).

France looked at him during some seconds; suddenly, he moved toward his rival and, taking the medals, he helped to pin them on Arthur's uniform. Surprised, Arthur let him do it, however.

"I mean it, England", France said softly, "Your people, your city…they seem to be so sad, so boring, sometimes with this horrible weather of yours and all that ugliness "
England tried to punch France, but he ducked and kept seriously his pinning work like he decorated a general for services to the Fatherland, a serious expression on his face:

"…They seem to have no real motivation in life…and yet, when they like, when they love something, one can see it, ils ont la niaque, they can do everything…and kick everything on their passage. Do you know how many times I nearly got myself killed during my trip until here?"

With these last words, France's usual smirk had returned to his face. Blushing slightly against himself, England responded :

"Speaking of that, how did you manage to sneak here? In order to kick you out myself next time as my guards don't seem to be able to hold you…
-Hon hon hon~ your brother Scotland got me in. Auld Alliance oblige~
-You're really a bitch, using the alliances only when it helps you, you bastard.
-Allons allons mon ange, I know you're jealous that your brothers like me, but you're not the only one I'm allowed to get on with~" France said; as he spoke, he moves his hands along England's collar, rearranging it.

"I'm not a kid, Frog!", England protested, trying to escape the Frenchman.
Said Frenchman chuckled:

"But you're in such mess, England! I can't let you go to this wedding like this; it would be a crime against beauty! And I can't let you shame your poor royal family!"
Curiously, England stand immediately still and looked at France with a confused look.

"You…you really think they would be ashamed of me? I don't want to give the boys bad memories, they have enough of them...do you think I should really go?"

France couldn't help, England looked so cute with his concern about his princes, like a mother, so he gave the Brit a peck on the cheek; this nearly coasted him a black eye he managed to duck again (experience gave that capacity) .

"Don't dare to do this again, wanker!
-Ça va, Angleterre, what a prude you are! You're worse than a pregnant woman when it's about your royal family! Weddings are marvelous, I agree, but you should stop being over emotional about them like a mother hen when her chickens go away!"
England again picked up his cap which had fallen during their argument, and looked at him again in the mirror, frowning.
"Oh sure, you can't understand…you have presidents who stay seven…
-Five now.
-whatever, less than a decade…
-And De Gaulle? And Mitterrand?
-They're exceptions! All of the others stay a handful of years, and then you fire them and don't use them anymore.
-Aren't you caricaturing things just a little bit, Arthur? I don't say your royal family is just a bunch of useless aristocrats who waste your money in ceremonies and folklore without taking part in politics.
-That's why you can't understand. This family…even if they're just "folklore" like you say…"

England's gaze seemed to soften, lost in his memories of softness and sadness:

"This family…I live with them, I raised them…I held each of the members just after their birth, sometimes even before their father…I was always there for them, to help them, to advise them, in good and bad moments… both for comfort them during tragedies and for drinking their first ale with them", he said with a smile, "and in weddings ...that makes me realize they're grown-up now, and it's always awkward...yes, I'm acting like a fucking mother because these children are my children."

It was France's turn to look into space. He turned away from England and reached for the sword the Brit had not put on yet. He stayed a moment holding the sword, staring at it distractedly like it woke old memories.

"I know what you feel England. I had kings, queens and even emperors too."

There was a silence in the room. England, despite of his perpetual venom against his rival, knew when he had to stay quiet; and he knew that, during this instant, France was thinking of the way of his monarchy ended, at least in his mind: he thought to the late 1700s.

"I had, and I will never have that anymore. Time has passed, many things have changed, but I'll never forget the times of monarchy, in good like in bad. But, there is a thing I nearly never had with them that you have had the chance to have: your children had marriages of love, not just interests. They can choose who they want to marry, who they really love. And that's the most beautiful thing in the world, l'amour."

He turned and handed the sword to England in a stately manner:

"You have a strong royalty, England. You can be proud of them, and I hope it will be always the same. I wish you the best with this wedding. Félicitations, mon cher."
Without a word, Arthur took the sword and held it some seconds before him, as a Royal Guard.

"God save the Queen. ", he said after a while.
"God save your Queen, and may He make her live long enough to see us fight and mess up like we always did and curse both of us for being such bad kids.", France said with a grin.

England snorted:

"Especially you, pervert.
-Said the one who nearly caused a war last time he was drunk~
-Was it my fault if you poured an aphrodisiac in my rum?
-You know you need to release the pressure from time to time ^^"

If someone hadn't knocked on the door, France would have been disfigured for the rest of his life; Arthur growled but didn't have the time to answer, Australia showed up in the room with a great smile :
"Arty you're gonna late!Hey Francy! What's up old man?", he greeted Francis with a big hug to Francis
"We're late? Fuck! Where are the others, Scott, Ire, Wales, Newzel', Den, Norge, Morocco, (insert others nations invited) " England cried at all speed and counting on his fingers.

Australia burst in laughter, imitated by France:
"Relax, man, ya'll just be late if ya continue to stress like that !
-Go back with them and tell them I-I'm coming now, hurry up and stop laughing like that ungrateful child!"

Australia went but didn't stop laughing.
England looked at him a last time in the mirror, then inhaled and exhaled.

"You're beautiful Arthur. I'm sure you'll be breaking some hearts today~!
-As if the judgement of a frog would have some value…Where are you going?
-Well, England, I haven't been invited, as you said, so I have no reason to stay…"

France was already to the door when England cleared his throat and said:

"If you went back now, it would offend the eyes of my people..so…..so…
-May I stay then~?
-D-don't get the wrong idea! I-it's not because I would like you stay at the wedding of my prince, it's b-because you can't miss an event as important when you're at it, just a matter of principles, understood, frog?
-Yes, yes I do, mon ami~."

England stared at the Frenchman, and then sighed:

"You're not as well-dressed as an Englishman…well, I suppose, from a frog, it is acceptable"
The two Nations rejoined their pairs in the hall of Buckingham, while France smiled: his neighbour would never change.

After the ceremony, England gave a headache as an excuse to stay back in order to wipe his eyes, which had been very wet all the ceremony.

"Such a sentimental, mon Anglais~"

Why wasn't he even surprised?

"I thought you didn't stay after the ceremony?
-How could I leave with all your crazy people massed around the palace? And some of your guests (or should I say their clothes) were so interesting …like the daughters of Sarah Ferguson…
-Don't remind me of them!"

Later in the evening, when the Family and the guests went back to Buckingham Palace, England grabbed the Frenchman by the collar and pinned him to the wall, while the others guest Nations went to the party room:

"My Queen and Prince Philip went back to their apartments...do you know what this means?
-Hmmm~ that we can show your bride and groom what Love really is without shame, and forward the wedding night~?"

England's fist connected with/hit France's face and the Brit grabbed his golden locks, bringing their two faces closer with a smirk:

"If you had half a brain, Frog, you would see this as an opportunity to…
-….liberate our sexual tension after a night of sensual dance with the excuse of alcohol and without the usual scowls of your bosses?
-You're a fucking perverted Frenchy bastard, but it suits me as long you're taking all the blame.
-Honhonhon~ Ne t'en fais pas, in the name of love I would do anything.
-Shut up and follow me. A-and don't get it in the wrong way! My guards would kick you out if they saw a French Frog croak in the corridors!"

Translations: (but some are very easy to guess ^^)

"mon cher"= my dear
"ils ont la niaque" = a familiar French expression, "avoir la niaque" means something like "to be strong, dertermined", don't give up"...well, France means the Englishmen have a strong willpower and are not defeated easily...I don't advise you to use it with your professors or superiors, it's more casual ^^

"Allons allons mon ange" = tut-tut my angel
"Ça va Angleterre" = it's okay England
"Félicitations mon cher": congratulations my dear
"Ne t'en fais pas" = don't worry

And I think if you read fics with France, you know what the rest means ^^ but feel free to ask if you don't understand something ^^