Le Rêveur
France often dreams about Jeanne. It is the main cause of his current animosity with England. In his dreams, he is all but helpless as he watches his precious Jeanne go up into flames, with only her smile left to him, but even that is fading now.
It is the curse of being old, the curse of being a nation. In exchange for immortality (why had anyone ever thought it was a good thing?), nations were forced to watch their loved ones wither away and disappear right before their eyes or never have their love realized.
Even he is helpless to the unkind passage of time, and instead of healing his wounds, they only rip it apart, as he watches the country of France (him, what Jeanne wanted so desperately to protect, his beloved) rise and fall far too quickly as England becomes stronger.
It simply isn't fair. When England finally feels love in that cold heart of his all France can do is pity and sympathize with his long-time enemy as he mourns Queen Elizabeth's death.
Still, he dreams of Jeanne d'Arc, her bright smile amidst the flames, almost like flower petals dancing around her in joy.
The dreamer continues to dream under pretend-sunlight (Louis, we were once strong) and happy days, as the sounds of battle are washed away by the cruel stream of time.