Summary: Francis Bonnefoy is making his way back to his estate when he comes across the most dreaded sight he has ever seen; an entire village was purged to the ground. He witnesses women's, children's, and men's scattered corpses. But from the midst of the living hell, came a weak figure. The Frenchman then becomes fond of the new young lady; Jeanne d'Arc. He takes her home and cares for her very deeply. Soon enough the Infanta of Spain, Francis' Fiancée, returns from her visit to Spain and also becomes fond of the new young lady. But what happens when Isabel is told that the young Lady is to save France? Will Jeanne ever live up to her fate? Or will she fail trying to bring peace between the two countries and finally end The Hundred Years' War? Human AU. Historical Medieval AU.

Possible Ships: France x Joan of Arc (Franne), Frain, Jeanne x OC, Isabel x OC

Warnings: Talk of Religion: Catholicism (So if you cannot deal with the mentions of God, then you are free to leave; Considering this is a fic on Saint Jeanne d'Arc. Mentions of many deaths, rape, descriptive scenes, War.

Dear readers,

Hello everyone and welcome to this story~! I have finally uploaded it. I am very excited to seen what you all think of this story, so please do write reviews and suggestions, as well as corrections. I, personally, feel very proud of this story (First one I have ever felt proud of) and I really am hoping for you to like it. Again this is a historical Medieval AU, and we all know that back in the day they were very religious. I have read reviews on other stories in which people cannot stand the constant mention of God, if you are one of them, this may not be the story for you. Do keep in mind that Jeanne d'Arc is a Saint of the Catholic Church, so please do respect that fact. Either way she will be very different in the story than she was in real life. The early events in this FanFiction do not depict her life, they are from my imagination, However many of the battles will hold truth in respect to History and some OC's are real people; Beginning with the Duke of Alençon (Otherwise known as Beau Duc) and the Dauphin of France Charles.

Again, please do enjoy and review~!

Sincerely, for the first time in High Above Me,

~Ms. Atomic Bomb


Riding his horse all throughout the night, Francis still couldn't find any sign of life.

Only bloody limp bodies covered the grass floor. He was careful not to let his horse step on a single inch of the lifeless civilians.

"If anyone is out there, please answer me!" Francis proclaimed. Once again the horrid smell of rotten flesh filled the morning atmosphere. Francis couldn't stand this smell, or this sight.

The dreadful sight, it consisted of many but many horrid things. To begin with, the men of the town had slashes everywhere. Their faces stuck in timeless horror. The agony and pain they had died in reflected on their facial expressions. The women, on the contrary, had their chests exposed and some no longer possessed breasts, only a gory mess. By skimming the bodies, Francis also noticed that the women's skirts were ripped up to the waist and once again, blood stained their womanhood.

Francis could only look away in disgust. Was this really the work of his people? It couldn't be. Yet somewhere in his heart, Francis knew that it was done by what he wishes to protect.

"Please, anybody! Answer me!" Francis cried once more, tears streaming down his fragile face and his heart ached.

"Sil-vous-plait! Quel q'une! Please answer me!" But from the complete despair of what seemed like hell, nothing emerged.

Finally, the horrific smell of rotten flesh got to him and not taking the smells and sights any second longer; he hurled into the ashes that used to be rich green grass.

As Francis tried to rid himself of this sickness, he heard small noises that seemed rather unnatural. He immediately looked about and tried to focus on moving objects.

Out of the complete death, a figure stood and walked towards Francis.

Francis gasped and drew his sword. He was unsure of what the figure was. But seeing the way as to how the figure was walking, he could see they were weak and probably traumatized if not injured.

"Who are you?" Francis asked, projecting his voice louder than usually.

Sobbing filled Francis' ear and the figure stumble over the dead bodies, as they came closer.

"Answer me! Who are you?" Francis stood his ground.

And as the figure drew closer, he noticed it was a young lady, no older than sixteen or so. She was covered in mud and blood and her dress obtained slashes everywhere. Her cheeks were tear stained and her eyes were both glassy and swollen. She walked as if she was drunk and she seemed extremely weak. Her eyes were half lidded and her lips were chapped, having a crack of blood in them. She kept her hands hugging something around her neck, and her arms covering her half-exposed bosom. She coughed a bit as she came within feet of Francis, and he could not tell if the blood that lingered on her lips were from them being chapped or from her coughing up blood.

Finally reacting at the site before him, Francis sheathed his sword and ran to the girl before she fell to the floor.

As he looked into her obscured blue eyes, Francis could tell that she was unable to understand the situation. She was unsure if to scream and try to break from his arms, or fall into them with the remains of her life. Was he one of the Burgundians? Or was he her guardian angel?

"It'll be just fine, I'll take you to a safe place. You'll be safe." Francis mumbled as to assure her that she would be fine. And with that –with the assurance of what she understood was her guardian angel –she fainted.

Francis covered her with his cloak and carried her to his horse, where he had some trouble getting her on the horse itself. After succeeding, Francis was able to climb upon his horse and begin to slowly make his way to his city. He was unsure if he should just leave, considering that she might have not been the only one alive, but if he wanted the young girl to live, it was time to leave.

Upon arriving at his estate by evening, he was surrounded by his servants. His nurse emerged from the crowd and looked up at him. "Welcome home, Young Master. What have you brought with you?" She tilted her head at the sight of a passed out woman.

"On my return from Chinon, meeting with my cousin, I stumbled upon a destroyed village. It was the Burgundians' doing. As far as I know, this girl was the only spared. May you prepare a bed for her and some new clothes to change her into; I want to treat her with our best hospitality."

"Yes my lord." The nurse nodded and headed towards the mansion at once.

He looked down at his servants and smiled softly. "May you all prepare dinner, I hope for her to awaken soon and I want food ready for her." He ordered.

"Would you like help, my young master?" A stable boy asked, after looking at the unconscious woman.

"No thank you, I believe that I can take her to her room from here, but I would like for you to clean Lealia, and feed her too. Sorry for the trouble." Francis sighed.

"Do not worry master. I will do as you please." The stable boy nodded.

After dismounting his horse, Francis had a sort of a struggle getting her off the horse and then taking her to a room that his Nurse had prepared for her.

"Francis, are you positive that you found her?" His nurse looked at him.

Francis rose an eyebrow and mumbled a "What?"

"What I mean to say is are you sure that she is not some sort of-"

"I would really like you to respect this young lady, my dear nurse. I feel upset that you think of her as such. When I found her, she was weak and can you not see that she is not conscious?" Francis was bewildered.

"Young Master, I do not mean to offend you, but-"

"But nothing. I will not tolerate your behaviour towards our guest. If you will not help her recover, then I will have to find someone else, if not myself." Francis turned on his heel and left the room.

Walking back to his respective chambers he sighed and sat upon his bed. He looked at the bell above his head and rang it. Moments later a servant entered his room. "Yes my young lord?" A young lady bowed.

"I am very sorry that I am making you all work so hard, but may you please prepare a bath, darling." He smiled lightly. The young servant blushed a little at his tease and proceeded into preparing a bath. How could she not blush? Aside from the part that he was handsome, his cousin was the Dauphin of France after all.

After his bath was ready, Francis slipped into it and began his train of thought. He was unsure if the young lady he had brought home would want to recall the horrid events of her past, meaning he was unsure if he wanted to ask her for any details. But if he wanted to help her, she needed to co-operate with him. Without her co-operation, helping her would go nowhere.

He thought about how she looked this morning; her face pale and on the verge of death, her eyes obscure, her lips chapped, her dress torn, her skin bruised and cut, her hair dirty, her nails broken and muddied, her feet scratched and covered in blood -probably not her own-, her figure skinny and her legs weak.

He wished to never see a girl so destroyed again. She looked too innocent to deserve such a fate. But then again, Life nowadays was life, and if you did not live in the riches, you would never get out of such a lowly life unless you were married into it, which barely happened between nobles and commoners.


Days went by and the young lady still had not awoken, she lay sleeping in her bed, without anyone disturbing her ever so often. On occasion, when Francis was not at a meeting or attending an event, he would slip into her room and wait until, hopefully, she would open her eyes.

After his nurse had cleaned her up, Francis was finally able so actually see her face. Although her eyes were still quite swollen, and her lips still sprung quite a bit of blood.

He stood from the seat below the window at the north end of the room, opposite to the mahogany door and to the left of the king sized royal purple bed.

Walking out of the room, he sighed, for she had still not awakened. It felt as if she would never wake up and he would never get to talk to her.

Sighing loudly and shaking his head, Francis walked out of the young lady's room and proceeded to attending the meeting that he had arranged for some Generals.
"Nurse," Francis called upon, stepping out of the room, "inform me when she awakes. No matter what I am doing..."

"Yes my young lord." She nodded.

After arriving at the meeting room, he sat in his chair that laid above all the rest of the seats surrounding the huge circular table and awaited the rest of the members. When all the generals had arrived, the meeting was in session.

"Personally, I believe that if we move up from the Seine then we would be ambushed, and do you not agree that we should be fighting for Orléans rather than Rouen?" A general stood against another, with Francis finally tuning in his attention to the meeting rather than the young lady.

Francis looked upon the generals for their thoughts. Without a word from anyone he began. "Rouen does seem like a risky idea. What I mean to say is that it makes no sense for us to take a risk in Rouen when Orléans needs us more. I just do not quite understand as to why you all thought of Rouen first. It is a horrible idea to begin with..." Francis sighed. He never liked politics but if he wanted to keep his country alive; he needed to put his mind and soul into it.

"But sir, it was the Dauphin's -"

"I apologize for interrupting, my good lord, but she has awoken." Francis' nurse opened the door unexpectedly, causing a commotion about the generals.

"I rule an hour's break. Meet back here in exactly sixty minutes, after so, we will presume the meeting." Francis stood from his seat and raced out the door, after biding quick farewells (of course leaving the generals dumbfounded).

Dashing into her room swiftly, Francis laid his sapphire orbs upon the sitting female.

She looked startled and scared as he approached her.

"Mon ange, you're finally awake." Francis grinned, his long blond locks falling ever so perfectly around his face.

"W-who are you?" She tilted her head slightly to the right.

"Oh, my name is Francis Bonnefoy, I brought you home with me after I found you in your torn down village." He began.

"Is this your estate?" She mumbled.

"Ah oui, c'est ma maison..." Francis wandered. "I'm sorry to ask, but what is your name?" He questioned.

"Mon nom?" The girl raised a blond eyebrow.

"Oui, ton nom." Francis insisted.

"But you are a stranger to me... Since you have taken good care of me, I shall repay you with my name and some labour, but as soon as I pay off, I should be on my way." She put her manners first.

"Non, no labour, you've been through a lot. All I wish to earn from you is your name and some information about what happened."

"What happened about what?" Her eyes were filled with confusion.

"Ah... Oh... You don't quite recall as to why you're here, do you?" Francis questioned.

"In actuality, with my most sincerity, I do not recall as to why I am at your estate at all. I am very confused..."

"Oh... Well, would you like me to explain to you, or rather you remember?"

"I would rather remember, my good sir. I am deeply sorry." She nodded, wishing to stand and give a deep curtsy.

"Do not fret, mon amour." Francis let his award-winning smile slip. He really did fancy her.

Aside the fact as to where he had found her, Francis felt like she could be with him for a while. He put aside the other fact that he was of royal blood and for all he knew she was a peasant, but she was lovely.

She seemed to be very well educated for her class, and she was rather beautiful; a quality none really possessed nowadays. Considering they were at war and all the beautiful women were either married, dead, or raped.

"My good sir, what would you like me to do?" The young lady questioned from the bed.

Ignoring her question and raising an eyebrow, he turned to her "Are you a virgin?" Francis asked.

Jeanne was rather taken aback by the sudden questioned and quite offended by it, to be frank.

"With all due respect sir, but should you really be asking a lady this question? Do I look like a prostitute to you?" She was bewildered.

"I do not mean to offend you, milady. Rather I am trying to understand you. One does not need to be a prostitute to not be a virgin; that is actually quite offensive. What I should have asked was if you were married." Francis reworded.

"No I am not married and I am indeed a virgin." Now Jeanne was dumbfounded.

"Well then, that rules out the option that you are a witch, for virgins cannot be taken by Satan, and thus meaning you are still innocent, to certain things at least." Francis recalled the gory scene.

"A witch? Why on earth would you think that I was witch? It makes absolutely no sense... Unless it has to do with why I am here..."

"But if you wish to remember as to why you came to stumble upon this situation, I think that I should leave your memory to yourself, because I am not sure as to why I found you to begin with." Francis sat on the same seat as before, the one under the window, and then decided to look out the window as he paid attention to the sweet sound of her voice.

"Who exactly are you, milord?" The young lady pondered.

"Francis Bonnefoy." He answered, still listening to her voice and barely hearing her words.

"Yes, I do know that, but I mean-"

"Cousin of the Dauphin. His right hand man, his eyes, his ears, his mouth. I am the Dauphin's trustworthy slave, of which happens to be his cousin. I may be of royal blood, but I do no act as if it is so." Francis' blue eyes sparkled a little, hoping she would be impressed.

"T-the D-D-Dauphin's cousin!" She proclaimed, trying to quickly get off of the bed to kneel and sadly not succeeding without a groan or cry of pain.

"No!" Francis stood from the chair and ran to the girl after hearing the painful cry. "No need to kneel at all. I did just mention that I never act like a royal? Please don't strain yourself, dear." He hurried to her side and helped her back onto the bed for she had tried her best to bow before him.

"But that would be very rude of me, your grace." She mumbled.

"No, it is not. Please don't treat me like I am a royal. In my eyes, everyone is equal." Francis smiled.

"My name is Jeanette d'Arc, but I prefer to be called Jeanne, your grace." She suddenly remembered his request.

Francis smiled softly. "Jeanne..." He let it slip from his soft lips. "I fancy your name quite a lot, milady." He looked at her in the eyes, curling the end of his lips just a little more, to give off a small grin.

Jeanne sat on the bed still, not moving an inch, not even breathing. She held her breath tight and looked at the male with wide blue eyes. A soft blush creeping on her cheeks.

"Do you at least like my name?" Francis sat on the bed next to her.

"Of course, your grace. It reminds me of Saint Francis, of which I very much look up to. And since it is your grace's name then it is even more suitable." Jeanne bobbed her blonde head.

"No, I don't mean if it is suitable, I am asking if you like my name. As in, is it a nice name?" He chuckled lightly, his features lighting up with joy.

"Oui, j'aime le nom Francis."

"You're not just saying that because I'm royal, right? I want to know your honest opinion."

"Yes, your grace, I do like your name." She nodded once more.

"Please don't call me that. My name is Francis, and that is how I prefer it. You don't want me to call you Jeanette or little peasant, now do you?" Francis raised a blonde eyebrow.

"I apologize my good sir."

"Francis." He corrected.

"Francis." She whispered, almost going unheard.

The Frenchman smiled brightly and stood from the bed. "As much as I would like to remain in this room talking to you, I need to attend my meeting, since I stopped it to come see you." He sighed. Had it almost been sixty minutes?

Jeanne watched as he began to make his way to the door. But as she watched him walk away, her vision seemed to shift scenarios. No longer was she sitting on the bed that Sir Francis had prepared for her, but rather she was on the muddy ground, houses burned all around her and ashes filled the night's sky along with children's and women's screams of horror.

An armed man came before her and knelt down to meet her gaze with hungry lustful eyes.

Immediately she knew what was about to happen, and with all the energy she had left, she screamed.

Finally switching back to the current scenario, she felt her body spring out of the bed and run towards the departing Frenchman. She flung onto him and screamed for him to remain.

Francis was caught off guard. He had just heard a blood curling scream from the girl and once he felt slender arms wrapping around his torso, he was bewildered. Just a second ago she kept true to her manners, and now she was rather informal, not that he minded at all.

"Please stay." She muffled into his back.

"Are you feeling fine?" Francis mumbled, although he knew the answer.

Ignoring her cuts and bruises, she held unto him tightly, making sure he wouldn't leave her alone.

Francis sighed and looked down at the girl's hands, seeing as they were intertwined around his upper abdomen.

"I'll stay with you, just wait a second." He smiled, she couldn't see it but she could hear it.

"No. Don't leave." She pleaded again, seeing that he was still going to open the door.

"I'm not leaving, Jeanne, I'm only going to tell my nurse to cancel the meeting. It will only take a few seconds, and I promise, after that I'll stay with you." Francis stated.

"They're going to find me... Please stay." Her voice cracked.

"Nurse!" Francis called. "Cancel the meeting for today." He added before the nurse went into the room.

"For what reason?" His nurse asked from the other side of the door, knowing better than to enter.

"Inform them that I had to attend some rather important matters." He replied then, after a few seconds, he heard her footsteps as they left.

"Well, Jeanne, who is it that's coming after you?" Francis shuffled in her arms a bit to finally face her.

Jeanne was silent for a long time, she didn't even move. She only stood, hugging the royal and clinging to him.

"The soldiers..." She finally hushed.

Francis looked down at her for a little while, he then made his own arms wrap securely around her. "The soldiers won't get to you. I promise that I'll protect you."

With quick realization of what she was doing all along, Jeanne let go of Francis and fell to the floor. Her knees were not able to hold her weight any longer, considering the state they were in, she also realized that she looked like some kind of floozy, holding on to the royal.

"Jeanne!" Francis fell to his knees to meet her at the floor, sadly this time around, he didn't catch her and she hit the ground hard.

There was a screech of pain that filled the room, before Francis lifted the girl from the floor and brought her over to the bed; gently leaving her on top of it, careful not to hurt her wounds.

"No! You didn't have to leave me here; you should have left me there. I should have gotten up by myself." She felt horrible for making a royal lift her and bring her to the bed. Royals shouldn't be breaking a nail over a weak peasant like her.

"Jeanne, you are a guest at my house and I need to treat you with utmost respect, okay?" He spoke, assuring her not to alert herself.

"I'm very sorry, but please stay here. If you don't, the soldiers are going to-"

Not being able to finish, a soldier (one of Francis' personal guards) ran into the room.

Immediately, Jeanne let out a horrible scream as she tried to hide in the covers of the bed, making Francis and the soldier quite confused.

Francis looked at his soldier, of which was alarmed beyond belief but seemed to be panting.

"Your grace, General Timmons has been killed." The soldier shook to reality, forgetting about the girl and focusing on his original task.

Francis' eyes grew wider. "I'll be right there." He confirmed, and the soldier disappeared behind the door.

Francis turned to Jeanne and kissed the top of her head, as if to calm her down. "I apologize for that and for me having to leave in such a hurry, would you like for me to get someone to protect you, or rather you stay alone interrupted?"

Jeanne emerged from the bed covers, processing that the soldier who entered her room had no intention of hurting her, but rather alerted her of danger.

"I wish to wait until you return, in solitude. In the meanwhile, try to remember as to why I am here." Jeanne's blue orbs looked into Francis'.

"Agreed. I will instruct the servants to not let anyone other than my nurse and me to enter." Francis whispered before leaving the room and doing as he had said.

Francis scurried to the threshold of his estate and got in the carriage to be taken to the scene of the crime. How was it that his only Scottish general was killed? And only a little while ago he was sitting next to him at the meeting. Damn it! If only he hadn't canceled the idiotic meeting.

Upon arriving at the crime scene, Francis stepped out of the carriage to see his now deceased friend.

"Your grace, you are here."

"Yes, anyway, how did this come to be?" Francis ignored the greeting and got down to the nitty gritty.

"All we know is that he got down from his horse and seconds later he was stabbed by a French male." The investigator reported.

"A Frenchman? What profession?" Francis asked, seeing that his old friend was dead, an arrow protruding from his back. At the angle that the arrow pierced, it surely had his heart.


In the mean while, Jeanne sat still and looked straight at the portrait of a young lady in front of her. In the portrait the woman wore a sweet empire red dress, highlighting her sweet upper curves. Her hair was dark red and her skin softly sun kissed. A soft pink adorned her lips as pearls bejewelled her neck line while she sat straight; her body facing a forty degree angle to her left but her face stared straight, there was a small smile gracing her lips, as if she were shy or she were sad.

There was something off about this lady, and for some reason Jeanne felt a little jealous of her. She was not really sure why exactly, but she felt that she needed to be jealous of her. It was not because the lady was obviously noble or rich, and Jeanne was a simple peasant, or because the lady was gorgeous and was plump in places that needed to be, while Jeanne on the other hand, was too thin for comfort and not plump where needed be. Jeanne's breasts weren't full, but they still didn't need to be, she was sixteen after all, and she didn't posses an hour glass shape that every man wanted, she had many flaws in order to be a perfect girl, not to mention Jeanne had cuts and bruises covering the majority of her body. Despite Jeanne's appearance or economical state, she wasn't jealous of this woman because of such things, but rather for a more significant reason.

Completely trying to ignore the portrait of the person in front of her, she focused more on trying to remember what had happened, but seeing that nothing had returned to her, she decided to gather up the only remaining strength she had a decided to take a little trip around the manor, to get acquainted of where she was currently staying.

Standing up from the bed that was given to her for her to recover, she quickly slipped into a night gown that sat by the bed and limped to the door. She knew that she was not allowed to wander the halls but she was very tempted, if anything she would leave right away.

Walking down the rather large hallway, she tried not to bump into the many birch or maple tables that contained valuable items, although it was hard with her limping and tumbling.

Slowly and cautiously, Jeanne limped down the stairs and looked around the rather huge entrance. She could have sworn the she was probably in a castle of some sort. The doors were about twenty feet high, made out of mahogany wood, with a soaring ceiling which held a huge chandelier; possibly made out of gold, if Jeanne's eyes didn't deceive her. And the stairs had been grand, two wings coming from opposite sides then meeting in the middle to form a platform and another staircase facing the entrance.

There were flower pots hanging from the stair rails and from the walls, along with more lights here and there (everywhere) to light up the room, as well as stained glass windows of either religious figures or political heads. This allowed for natural light to enter the manor.

There were coat racks by the door and banners around the walls. Most consisted of crests and Fleur de lis. And a red carpet covered all. But above the platform, a grand painting of a family sat untouched. A woman sat with a navy blue dress, holding a child on her lap, and a man standing to the right of them. Jeanne wished to know who they were but she was not sure if to ever ask.

She then walked to the kitchen, where many chefs and cooks were preparing dinner. Then to the dining room, of which was full of butlers preparing the table. Seeing that there was no purpose for her, she left the main floor, and slowly headed back up the stairs, to hopefully find the room she was using.

Thinking she had arrived to her destination, she opened a door to find a completely different room. The chambers she had stumbled upon were fancier than hers; the bed was grand and splashed with a royal purple and golden Fleur de Lis. It was spectacular and overwhelming. A window on the right side of the bed was stained glass with a figure of Jesus, while the one on the left (being enormous) was clear. And the view was extraordinary; vast land of trees and fields for miles and miles.

She softly bit her bottom lip in amazement. This was surreal. There were gold frames with gorgeous landscapes painted in their canvases and light torches to be lit in the evening. There was a couch at the foot of the bed and a desk in the right most far corner from the door. Upon a night stand next to the bed, a Rosary and mini statue of Mother Mary perched themselves, and on the desk a crucifix was steadied.

She softly smiled and headed to the desk in order to feel the crucifix in her small hands. But as she went to pick it up, it didn't detach from the mahogany table. She tried once more and had pushed it back; that was when it had lifted off the table only to reveal a secret entry way next to her.

Gasping lightly, Jeanne looked inside the entry way and tried to close it. Yet in the failure of doing so, she tripped into the dark hall way. Not being able to see a thing; she continued down the hall, a long staircase and another long hallway until she hit what felt like another doorway. Placing her delicate hands on the cold metal knob of the door, she slowly turned it; only to reveal a lovely room.

One huge window spread across the other three walls of the room; letting sunshine pour everywhere like wine in a tavern. There were fancy couches with designs of roses and vines. They were clearly silk or cashmere; Jeanne was not well familiar with expensive fabrics so she was not sure.

There was a desk in the opposed end to the door, and it was clearly expensive as well. By the door a violin sat still and a music stand right next to it.

Overwhelmed by the beauty of the room, there were tears in her sapphire orbs. Though once she saw that on the coffee table a Holy Bible and Rosary sat; she was moved to short sobs. That was lovely. He had so much love for God. This was amazing.

After suppressing her overwhelming tears, she looked around the room and decided to take a look around it. On the desk a silver locket perched neatly.

As she opened it, a portrait of a young lady appeared. The exact same young lady as the one painted on the portrait in her room. Who was she?

Looking at the other half of the locket she could see words. If only she knew how to read and write. Since she was too poor to attend school, she never learned how to do so and it always upset her because she had heard how beautiful stories and books were. How they could take you on journeys and adventures that would be impossible for a simple peasant to do so.

She sighed heavily and looked sadly upon the locket having a mixed feeling of God knows what. Jeanne then shoved the locket into a pocket in the robe and stumbled out of the room. She cautiously stepped down the stairs and left the secret room, placing the crucifix back on the desk properly in order to close the door.

As she walked slowly to the door, it was opened lazily.

Jeanne shut her eyes tightly and gasped; preparing to begin crying for she knew she would get in deep trouble.

"Jeanne?" The French voice was familiar and quite confused.

Jeanne opened her eyes to see a puzzled Francis. His blond eyebrows furrowed above his blue eyes and his head tilted to his right; a little frown forming upon his lips. "What are you doing here?" He mumbled.

"I-I-I..." Jeanne fumbled for an excuse. "I w-was going to get a drink of water but when I reached the kitchen, everyone was preparing dinner. I didn't want to interrupt so I came back upstairs and thinking this was my room, I entered. But since it was not I turned to leave and you came in..." She played with her hands slightly.

"Ah, would you like me to take you back to your chambers, or would you rather stay here?" He flirted a little, winking at the end.

Jeanne turned a deep crimson and shook her blonde head. "I-I would l-like t-to return to my chambers, your grace."

Francis chuckled slightly and nodded. "Alright then, follow me dear." He beckoned as he left the room.

Jeanne mumbled a 'forgive me' up to the heavens for slightly lying, then continued after the blond male.

Upon reaching her room, they both entered and Francis spotted Jeanne glancing at the portrait.

"Francis..." Jeanne began.

"Yes my dear?" He smiled.

"Who is that lady in the picture?" Jeanne decided to ask as she sat on the bed.

Francis walked to her and sat right next to her, their thighs touching. He sighed loudly and looked at the portrait himself.

"She is my betrothed. She's spending three months in Spain with her family and is coming back in around two."

"Your fiancée? She's beautiful. No wonder you love her."

"It was actually an arranged marriage. We've been best friends since we were children, although she had to turn more ladylike, we did lots of stuff together. Then they had told us that we were engaged, and we had to comply." Francis explained.

"Ah, so you don't love her?" Jeanne mumbled.

"It's not that I don't love her. I love her very much. She and I have gone through a lot together. I really appreciate and adore her. She has been with me through many tough times in my life and she is amazing for that. She has never actually left my side..."

"She sounds really lovely."

"Oh but she is! Other than being a total beauty, she's extremely sweet and nice, although people might see that as a flaw. She's very understanding and oh so caring. Her smile one of the brightest, her lips some of the softest, she is incredible."

"You really love her, non?"

"Yes, I guess I do... But I feel like I also love someone else..." Francis blushed slightly.

"Someone else?" Jeanne raised a blond eyebrow, oh wasn't this complicated.

"I recently met her, so I am not exactly sure if I do or if I don't. But she's lovely as well. She hasn't smiled yet, so I can not compare her smile to that of Isabel, but I'm almost completely sure that they both have exceptional smiles. But either way, I really fancy the other." His blue orbs were fixated on the wall in front of them as he bragged on about his new found love.

"Whom ever you choose will not let you down, they both sound lovely. But the new one hasn't smiled... I don't think that's a good sign. I suggest you stay with your Fiancée." Jeanne gave him advice.

"It's not that she doesn't smile, it is that she has nothing to smile about, for her life is not in the right state." Francis reasoned.

"Then you'll have to make her smile and see who the one for you is. But I don't want your fiancée to be alone so it is best that you put her needs first."

"Isabel is always selfless. She has no needs and if she did she would not tell."

"Think hard, I am not in your situation so I won't say much, but you have known your fiancée for so long, your entire life in fact. And you've only known this other lady for a little while. You don't even know her intentions. If I was in your shoes, I would trust your fiancée more until I knew who this lady was." Jeanne smiled, giving him a reason to trust her.

"Thank you Jeanne, you've been much help, dear. You're a real beauty." He said as he stood and kissed her forehead. "I'm glad that you are by my side."

Jeanne blushed a deep crimson as he had finished and nodded lightly. "Y-you're welc-come?" She managed to stutter something out.

Francis chuckled a little; she was too cute for words. Oh dear Lord.

"Well, dear, until the morrow. Oh no, actually until dinner time, I'll see you there." He winked and blew her a kiss as he left the room.

Walking back to his room, he smiled. He was going to enter the secret room before he decided to take a look around and check if Jeanne had pushed something off the shelves or anything, not that he cared.

After not finding anything, he proceeded into sitting down on his bed. There was nothing he really needed to do at the moment, since his investigator was trying to figure out the incident. Thus, out of boredom, he was going to practice his violin where no one could hear him.

There was a reason as to why he had a secret room in the first place. He loved to escape from the world every now and then, whether it was to play music or to write to his betrothed. He felt more at peace with himself if he was far from his problems an only thought about the three essentials of his life; Faith, Love and Music.

Moving the crucifix slowly, he entered the hallway with a candle and carefully ascended the stairs.

Finally reaching the room, he entered and picked up his violin. What was he going to play? Possibly just make up a composition on the spot… yes; that could work.

Lightly letting his fingers touch the strings he began to think; what was going to happen to Jeanne? He did not want to kick her out of his estate at all. If he did, where would she go? Her family was dead, her village was destroyed, and her hope was probably shattered as well. But with his fiancée coming home soon, he was unsure if she would accept a stranger into their home.

Deciding on finally playing, he began by mimicking something he had heard in the tavern the other day. It was a rather simple melody, where little note changes occurred and practically no thrilling beats. Only by slowing the melody down, he was able to make the song seem depressing and not really up beat and happy go lucky as it once was.

His playing slowed down even more so that the music died down. Francis adored the music that people made, but he loved altering it more than anything. He could twist the notes to his hearts content and he liked that.

The following week, Jeanne was able to walk and speak properly, of which was when he noticed that the peasant girl was not able to read or write. Of course this was all too surprising for him for her French was near perfect. Despite her slight country accent, and forgetfulness, her French was extraordinary. After finding out her little secret, he wished to help her with learning, since she was still rather young, she could learn quite fast. He started with the alphabet. Then dictated a sentence in which she would write down after he was finished. And within a month and half she had done rather well. He also learnt that Jeanne only knew how to write in Latin; and only the prayers at that.

"Well, thus far you are doing exceptionally well, ma chérie." Francis smiled brightly as they walked in the gardens of his manor.

"Merci." She smiled; her walk still a little wobbly and some bruises still remained.

In all honesty, Francis was getting quite worried, for her bruises were not yet completely gone, and some scars still covered her skin.

"How are you doing nowadays? Are you recalling anything from your past?" Francis sat down on a stone bench and patted the seat next to him, calling her to sit next to him.

Jeanne shook her head and stood in front of him, she did not fancy seating at this time; the sun was high up in the sky and a soft breeze kissed the trees, the leaves swayed back and forth passing on secrets and whispering to one another.

"I have not recalled anything yet..." She mumbled, of course she lied. She had actually recalled quite a lot of things. Starting with who her family was and what had happened for her to be the only to survive from her village. In reality, she remembered almost everything, but she refrained from telling Francis for she knew he would get protective over the matter.

"Oh... I was really hoping you would, for I want to know what occurred with your village." He sighed loudly. This was getting quite frustrating and it wasn't going to get better any time soon.

"I'm sorry; it is only that nothing has been able to restore my memory."

"No, do not fret; I do not mind waiting a little longer."

Jeanne smiled down at him and decided to finally sit next to him and thought for a little while. Sooner or later she would have to tell him, but right now wasn't the best time.

"Sir, there is someone here to see you." A soldier had finally found them after hearing they were in the gardens.

"Whom?" Francis stood from the bench and questioned the soldier.

"D'Alençon, sir."

"Oh, alright then. Jeanne, wait here for a little while, possibly it would only take seconds anyways." He smiled.

Jeanne smiled and nodded at the Frenchman, after her approval, she watched him walk away with the soldier and disappear into the Manor.

Looking back up the sky, she thought about how beautiful the day was. Yet as she thought about the beauty, the emptiness came to mind.

"Jeanne." She was snapped back to reality by Francis' voice.

Jeanne shook her head as if to push her memories aside. She searched around for the young man and finally found him as he came with another man trailing along.

"Francis." She stood.

"This is my cousin, Jean d'Alençon." He stated.

"Hello, Jeanne d'Arc." The man went to bow but Jeanne had beaten him to it.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, duc." She stated.

As she lifted her head to meet him once more, a smile was evident on his light handsome features.

"And it is most certainly a great pleasure to meet you. Believe it or not, my little cousin here has been talking about you non-stop. Sending me letters every other day telling me how you have been doing. It's rather sweet if you ask me, he's getting his mind off of the war because he has found a sweet girl to take care of. So I really should be in your dept for that." D'Alençon spoke.

"He has? Oh my, I'm rather flattered." She giggled as a blush grew on her cheeks.

"Well, you seem rather important to him. I do not blame him for you are a rather beautiful young lady." The duke laughed.

"Thank you very much." Jeanne blushed even deeper.

"To be frank, why did you even agree to stay with a loser like my cousin, darling?"

Jeanne giggled catching the tease and shrugged. "Who else might have wanted to take me in, if it were not for your dear cousin, mon duc?"

"Well, I feel that I would be a better choice, do you not agree?"

Jeanne smiled brightly. "I'm not quite sure." She giggled seeing that Jean and Francis were not too different with their charms.

"Yes, that is all too amusing as I am standing before you both..." Francis sighed loudly seeing as they were not only talking about him, but flirting as well.

"Ah yes, I was caught up in her beauty so much that I had forgotten you were even present." D'Alençon shot a smug look at Francis, knowing that Jeanne was blushing by now.

"Let us head back inside, no Jeanne?" Francis ignored his cousin.

"Ah yes..." Jeanne nodded, although she did want to remain out side for a little while longer for she really adored the beautiful nature that engulfed her.

"Then off we go." Francis smiled and made hand in to a soft fist hovering over the bottom of his chest so that she would hook her arm around his; of which she did.

"Jeanne, do wish to take a drink with me? I would be honoured to have a goblet of wine with you, my dear." D'Alençon smiled after they had finished dinner.

The day had gone so fast after they had entered the manor and heard the band play some songs as they discussed stories of their life; some that Jeanne did not tell because she did not remember.

"Well, it is getting rather late and I am afraid that I must go to bed." Jeanne smiled sorrowfully. "Although I would really want to, I am too tired, and I must get my bandages changed as well as take a bath. A girl must go through many preparations before going to bed, and I must fulfil those if I am going to live in this manor for a little while longer until I recover in order to even begin to repay Francis for his amazing hospitality and generosity."

"Oh, alright then. Until the morrow, my dear." Jean d'Alençon stood, and as did Francis as she also stood to leave.

"Until the morrow." She nodded and with that, exited the room and ascended the stairs.

There had been a long silence between the two males as they gazed at one another waiting for the other to say some thing.

"Well," They both simultaneously spoke.

"The guest shall speak first." Francis smiled.

"Oh little cousin of mine, why are you being so formal? Je suis ton cousin, pourquoi est-ce que tu ne me parle comme si je suis ça?"

"Parce que, c'est ça. We are royalty, we should act so." Francis sighed.

It had only been until recently that he had started to act so, the dauphin had gotten rather disappointed with his informality in front of officials that he had become so upset as to stop all informality.

"You're starting to sound like Charles..." Jean smiled sadly. He liked his younger cousin being the flirt and idiot of the group. The one who always kept happy and never let anyone down, but after something had happened, Jean knew that Francis was not being formal on his own account.

"Is that meant to be an insult, Jean?"

"Not the slightest... I am simply speaking my mind." Jean always spoke what was on his mind, but he was always in good thoughts and thus his words were always kind. Since he also thought of Francis like his younger brother, he always wanted to protect him from things, and he considered a change of personality a threat.

"Jeanne is rather nice."

"Yes, it is in her nature."

"Listen little cousin, she's a very pretty and pure girl, but there is something she's keeping from you for your own good. When you find out what it is, as I myself do not know, do not become angry with her. She wishes for you to rest easy..."

"What do you mean?"

"Since she appreciates your hospitality, she wants to make things up to you by not letting you know much about her..."

"I guess so, but she should not be afraid to tell me anything." Francis took a sip of his wine.

"She is not afraid, she is protecting you. And I feel that is a good thing. When Isabel comes around, introduce them and let them talk, I'm sure they will get along rather lovely." Jean smiled softly. "Anyhow, I should be off, I must be in Chinon in and around four days..."

"Alright. Have a good evening, and Bon Chance avec son voyage."

It was quite late when he had left but it was better to leave at this time rather than in the morning hours for he would be late for his meeting with the dauphin.

After his leave, at midnight, around possibly 3 in the morning, Jeanne had descended the stairs once more yet this time she was not conscious.

Her figure made its way to the grand hall, and there she sat right in the middle of it and began to tell a story.

The story was about a young girl of which sat in the middle of a field of tall lilies, her hair was long and golden, and her eyes a sweet sapphire shade. She was rather young, but very hard working. She would help her mother with house chores and help her father with the harvest; which was the reason to her golden tan that covered her freckles certain times of the year.

But as she sat in the middle of that lily field to relax, there was a horrendous sound and the lilies all ironically transformed into men of the French army, and the beautiful field was now a battle field.

Birds were replaced with arrows and water was replaced with blood and sweat. Tweeting birds and the summer breeze were now clashing swords and cries of men.

The girl looked down at her form to see her white dress replaced with bloody armour, her hair cut short, and her heart had sunk. She felt rather mature for her age and as if she carried the world on her shoulders.

Her smile was turned into a line in order to not demonstrate all her feelings for this sudden change.

"That is the story of a young girl named Jeannette d'Arc; that is her fate..." That was how Jeanne herself had ended the story.

By now, a couple of people had gathered by the doorway to hear her lovely worded story.

"Jeanne?" The voice of her saviour came from within the crowd.

Her voice had been loud yet gentle, everyone in the household had heard her but it was a disrupting voice, it was tender.

"That is Jeannette d'Arc's fate." She stood but her voice all in different tones, and not her own, yet the voice was still gentle and full of love, there was nothing wrong with it. The voice was divine and oh so loving.

"Jeanne?" The man repeated her name for he knew what had just occurred.

"Jeannette is a daughter of God, and she shall be great." The young lady's mouth moved but it still was not her voice. "Take care of God's chosen one until it is time." And with that, the lovely voice had ceased to exist.

The lights had flickered as a dash of warm air had hit them.

By now, when everyone had finally focused on the girl, she was on the floor, neatly sleeping in serenity. Her figure so neatly placed as if a mother had slowly put her down, making sure not ti harm her.

"Jeanne..." Francis hurried to her quickly, wishing to wake her to see if she were fine and by no means harmed.

"Jeanne," he shook her lightly, "Jeanne..."

Her blue orbs slowly opened with patience. The ocean within them awoke so tenderly that it seemed as if the waves were softly caressing the sand that was her soft skin.

"Jeanne..." He whispered softly for he was relieved that she opened her eyes.

"Why am I here?" She looked up at him, her orbs half lidded with a dumbfound and tired expression, one which made a certain Frenchman uneasy for he believed she looked divine.

"How about we take you to your room, you'd really want that. We can talk about it tomorrow, okay?" His voice was so gentle that it made her fall deep asleep with seconds of his statement.

Francis stood from the floor with the sleeping girl in his arms and stepped out of the grand room and dismissed everyone as he went to take the beauty to her chambers.

"You are rather strange. I do not understand as to why I have even kept you. You seem like an enormous trouble because of these little things that have been occurring around this castle.

"Not to mention, you seem to keep hiding something from me and either that has to do with that voice or your past, or possibly both." Francis had finally entered his chambers.

He laid her upon his bed and covered her with the sheets so that she would not get cold. Instead of sleeping, he hurried into his secret room and onto the desk.

He needed to keep track of these things, there was no way that he would let this go. His hand hurried for the quill as he grabbed his journal and began to write down all that had occurred both that day and evening.

He remained in this chamber for the rest of the night both writing a letter to Isabel and his journal.

The sky had begun to lighten up when he noticed what time it truly was, causing him to yawn in exhaustion and stretch a couple of times.

He came to his senses when he had finally looked at the rising sun, and thus he rubbed his eyes and stood from the leather seat.

He carefully and quietly made his way out of the secret chamber and slipped into his room.

Noting that a certain female had remained sleeping in his bed, he couldn't help but form a slight smile with his lips.

Her long blond strands spread themselves over the pillow so swiftly, her eyes so tenderly closed and her lips slightly parted. If it weren't for the fact that he knew she wasn't, he could have believed she was an angel.

He looked down at the floor and thought of Isabel, she was just as lovely as the girl (possibly even lovelier at times). Unlike Jeanne, Isabel had her body well developed already, making her curves more appealing to the eye, her long brown hair reached up to her waist but it was always brought up in different styles, while her piercing green eyes had always been shiny.

The Spaniard had lots of knowledge and love for the French language but she still possessed quite a Spanish accent.

Francis walked out of the room after changing into his riding clothes and fixing himself to look as handsome as possible. The Frenchman had a rather strong passion for fashion. He loved the newest fad, or the newest style to be a hit. Pop-y colours always seemed to be liked by everyone, and Francis was one of those people. Therefore, his riding clothes were very top-notch snobbish clothing.

The jacket was red polyester as his pants were black, having a some sort of poof at his thighs, and finally black riding boots. In all honesty, the man could look great in anything he wore, whether it was peasant clothing or clothing for a king. Even without anything on the man was handsome.

"Nurse!" Francis called as he descended the stairs, yawning afterwards.

Seconds later, his nurse came within view and he smiled.

"Jeanne is in my room, make sure none of the maids get to her before you do. Take her to her respective chambers and let her sleep a while longer." Francis explained his wishes.

"Yes, milord." His nurse bowed and proceeded to his chambers as Francis went the opposite way in order to reach the stables quickly.


I hope you have enjoyed this first chapter! Seeing as how all my chapters for this story will roughly be this long, I will be updating this story every three weeks or so. I also have the next two chapters pre-written so that I will not be behind in updates. Thank you very much for reading this Chapter and I hope you stick around for the rest of the story as it begins to unfold and hopefully turn out to be one of the best stories you have read. Happy Easter and have an Amazing week! Good luck to you all~! May you all have a great week at school and/ or work! I hope that it will turn out to be a great week and see you in three weeks :$

Do not forget to Review and Favourite, everything is appreciated ;)