Work Text:
De la part de Francis Bonnefoy
April 25th, 2025
My dearest Arthur,
I would usually recoil at the thought of saying something like this, but in this case, I must say it. Alfred was correct. It is truly endearing how you continue to write me as if it were the 1800s, though you have yet to respond in the ‘group chat’ that Matthew set up on your phone. I daresay it would be easier and far more efficient to speak with me there than over letters, no?
I jest. Your letters, even though they are far more delayed than a text or e-mail would be, are still the highlight of my days. You have always been one to romanticize the past, and I expect nothing less from the letters you send me every few days. I can almost hear your voice now, telling me about how the parchment smells like the summer of 1876. Despite claiming to be pragmatic and serious to the highest degree, you cannot argue that saying something of that sort makes you out to be somewhat of a poet.
Even though I know in my heart you’re going to frown when you hear me call you such a thing.
Adieu,
Francis Bonnefoy
From the desk of Arthur Kirkland, Personification of the United Kingdom
May 2nd, 2025
Francis,
I believe you would find it amusing to know that I audibly snorted while reading your message. Calling something that I do endearing as if I were some teenage child, and not over a thousand years old. It was very quintessentially France, and I do appreciate it.
Regarding my cell phone. It is certainly not my fault that I do not reply in your silly ‘group chat’. America handed me the stupid slab of metal and glass and called me an old man for not being able to figure it out. Let him know over your telephone that I require assistance with it, because god forbid I try to contact him over letters like I do with you. I would be extremely lucky to receive any sort of reply from him in a physical sense, because every time I try, all I get in return is a phone call that I usually miss because I cannot find the button to press.
Matthew is visiting London soon. It will be nice to see family.
Yours,
Arthur Kirkland
De la part de Francis Bonnefoy
May 9th, 2025
My dearest Arthur,
If I am reading your recent letter correctly, was that an invitation? I am flattered, mon petit papillon. I am quite skilled at picking up your English subtext, I daresay. Provide the dates and I may make an appearance for Matthieu. If you would like, I am sure I would be allowed to bring pastries on the plane for your little apartment (because I am sure you are lacking, just as I am sure the sky is blue.)
It would be a shame to not extend the invitation to the little America. Perhaps I can send him a text about it, and he can come along with Matthew from North America. (This would also be a great opportunity for him to teach you about the wonders of the modern phone ! How exciting.) I will entrust you with the tea and the company, but surely not much else.
For future reference, the button to answer a call is the big green one.
Adieu,
Francis Bonnefoy
From the desk of Arthur Kirkland, Personification of the United Kingdom
May 16th, 2025
Francis,
Inviting yourself? How in character. I would expect nothing less from you. Despite your rude reply, I will regretfully give you the dates of our meeting and allow you to come along if you promise to behave in a manner reflecting your station.
It would likely be after the World Conference, although that does defeat the point of a reunion, if we all saw each other a week in advance at the meeting. Is it not being held in Paris this year? Perhaps we should all meet at one of your French cafes. There’s a lot I could say about the French, but I must admit, your people do have lovely places to eat.
If we meet during the week of the Conference, there would be no need to extend an invitation to Alfred. We will let him know at the event. I will need to tell Matthew about the change of plans through a letter. At least one of my sons reads and responds to them.
Yours,
Arthur Kirkland
De la part de Francis Bonnefoy
May 25th, 2025
My dearest Arthur,
The World Conference! I nearly forgot that it was being held in Paris this year. Despite decades of these meetings happening, I still find it surprising that they are allowed to be hosted in Paris. I am vaguely sure that I’ve sent a complaint to my higher-ups about it, but every few years, everyone still comes. How sad for me, is it not?
Lamenting aside, I will keep that in mind. I have a few places in mind for where we should go, especially considering your delicate palate. I wouldn’t want to give you too much of a culture shock, lest you burn your tongue on sea salt.
Regarding your accommodations during the week of the World Conference: when will you be arriving? And shall I prepare my guest room?
Adieu,
Francis Bonnefoy
From the desk of Arthur Kirkland, Personification of the United Kingdom
June 2nd, 2025
Francis,
Since the Conference begins the first full week of July, I expect to arrive in Paris on either the second or the third. This gives you about a full month from now to prepare for my arrival, which should be enough, even for you. I (regretfully) trust you a bit too much, which has resulted in me being a tiny bit excited to see you.
Off with your lamenting. Whenever we host the Conference in Paris, everyone is quite honestly more subdued. Have you just been absent of mind at the American Conferences? Poor Alfred. He has to pay for the after-meeting activities of our peers, which sounds far more dreadful than just having to clean up a few leftover cups from the water fountains of your formal meeting hall.
As for my accommodations, please prepare for my arrival, but don’t bother with the guest room. You and I both know it won’t be touched. There's no sense in making you prepare it. Please have your little pastries ready and the capacity for authentic English tea, as I'll be bringing you a box of it.
I will see you at the Conference, Francis. Try not to miss me too much, or else you might die before I see you next.
Yours truly,
Arthur Kirkland
De la part de Francis Bonnefoy
June 10th, 2025
My dearest Arthur,
I await your arrival with bated breath and a racing heart.
Avec amour,
Francis Bonnefoy