So I'm sitting listening to my iPod, you know? I'm bored, so I'm going through random songs that I got from my friend and listening to them. 'Awake and Alive' by Skillet came on, and as I was listening to it, the thought hit me: IT'S PERFECT FOR FRANCE AND JEANNE D'ARC! Even more so since Skillet actually is a Christian band. So I decided I would write a songfic and make a video once I have a chance. :D Anyways, I, Obsessive-Fan Number 1, do not own either Hetalia or 'Awake and Alive'. Now onto the songfic (my first that's not with a Taylor Swift song, lol)! Lyrics are bolded and italicized.


I'm at war with the world and they
Try to pull me into the dark
I struggle to find my faith
As I'm slippin' from your arms

France watched Jeanne sign the paper, wishing he knew what it said. She didn't look like she would last long enough to finish today out, let alone longer. Heart wrenching, he shot a panicked look at England, but the green-eyed nation showed no reaction. The room was quiet enough that the slightest sound could be heard, the atmosphere tense. Until Bishop Cauchon took the paper from Jeanne and turned to the British guards, ordering, "Return her to her cell!"

"What!" Jeanne tried to get free of the guards grabbing her arms, but it was an overall worthless effort. They were too strong, dragging her out of the room by sheer force. On the other side of the room, England gave a small nod.

"Angleterre!" France shouted. In a flash, he was in front of England and had yanked him closer with a death grip on the neck of the British man's shirt. "You promised Jeanne a trial of the church if she agreed to sign those documents," he growled in the younger nation's face.

England's expression verged dangerously between a smirk and a crazed grin. He didn't even try to force France off. "The documents stated quite clearly what she was signing. I can't affect your precious Joan's ability to read." With an outraged shout, France slugged him in the face. The British guards intervened then, dragging him away from England. They pulled him out of the room, pushing him further out before slamming the doors on him.

It's getting harder to stay awake
And my strength is fading fast
You breathe into me at last

Jeanne…which way did they take Jeanne? France took a desperate guess and chose left, running as fast as he could.

Finally, he reached her cell. "Jeanne!"

She looked up. Her face, rigid and white from the physical torture and lack of food, still broke into a smile. "Francis…"

"Shhhh." France reached through the bars, brushing his hand against her cheek. England was starving and torturing her, just to see which would kill her first! "Don't worry, mon amour." He intended the words to be soothing, but his voice shook with fury at England.

Jeanne closed her hand around his; he could feel how thin her fingers had become, with almost no muscle left to protect them. "I won't when you don't," she said softly. "Have faith in God's will."

"God's will cannot be to let you die!" France said vehemently. He lowered his head, wishing he could kiss her, but almost afraid to pull her hand close enough to. "S'il vous plaît, Jeanne, don't leave me…" He took a deep breath before rashly saying, "If God's will is for me to lose you, then what reason do I have to put faith in His will?"

A sharp pain shot up his wrist. "Don't say that, Francis!" Jeanne said fiercely, her hand still on his wrist from slapping him. "God's will is more important than any of our personal wants." Despite everything, France couldn't help a small smile. That was his Jeanne.

I'm awake, I'm alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it's my time
I'll do what I want 'cause this is my life
Here (right here), right now (right now)
I'll stand my ground and never back down
I know what I believe inside
I'm awake and I'm alive

"Mon amour…" The blonde raised her hand to his lips, kissing it softly. "What you believe, I will. I swear, I will always believe in you. From the beginning, you have said your voices are from God. But if England refuses to believe you…"

"Have faith in God's will," Jeanne repeated, smiling gently at him. "Don't give into hopelessness if the English don't see, but hope that they will."

I'm at war with the world cause I
Ain't never gonna sell my soul
I've already made up my mind
No matter what, I can't be bought or sold

France shook his head in amazement. "Your dedication is truly incredible," he said softly. He knew it would be pointless asking her to lie to the English. Nothing would ever make her deny her faith in God. That was part of why he'd fallen in love with her.

When my faith is getting weak
And I feel like giving in
You breathe into me again

"So is yours, Francis," Jeanne said. She gripped his hand tightly. "No matter what, promise me that you won't give up on God."

"…Je promets évidemment," France said. And he meant it. If nothing else, he would hold on for her sake. Anything for her sake.

I'm awake, I'm alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it's my time
I'll do what I want 'cause this is my life
Here (right here), right now (right now)
I'll stand my ground and never back down
I know what I believe inside
I'm awake and I'm alive

"The two of you have had your time," an arrogant British-accented voice said, making France turn. His hands clenched into fists; Bishop Cauchon was standing there. He almost retorted, but he felt a squeeze on his hand.

"It's alright," Jeanne whispered. "God will protect us both." France wanted to protest, but he saw the determination in her eyes. She had complete faith.

Slowly, he nodded tensely. "Je t'aime, Jeanne," he said softly, squeezing her hand comfortingly before reluctantly letting go and leaving, glaring at Cauchon as he passed.

Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up

Nightmares ruined any chance of sleep France had that night. He knew Jeanne would never give in to saying her voices from God were a lie, but England wasn't exactly someone who yielded easily, either. The thing that frightened him most was that England had the power to hurt Jeanne, far more than Jeanne could hurt England in her current state, and after all the humiliation Jeanne had put him through, England definitely would. S'il vous plaît, God, don't let her die…

In the dark,
I can feel you in my sleep
In your arms, I feel you breathe into me
Forever hold this heart that I will give to you
Forever I will live for you

A grim, small smile crossed his face. He could almost hear Jeanne insisting for him to pray aloud.

"I need her forever, God…don't let me lose her…" The words started coming out in a whisper. Normally, France would've felt a bit ridiculous for speaking aloud with no one there, but he could picture Jeanne nudging him on. "S'il vous plaît, God…Your will can't be for her to die…not after everything, all the faith she's put in You…take care of her." The last sentence was barely audible, a desperate plea. Imagining Jeanne telling him to keep the entire prayer true, France whispered, "Amen." Then he closed his eyes again, feeling more confident. God had been on his side ever since sending Jeanne to him. He would guard them.

When he fell asleep this time, France wasn't woken again until morning.

If only it had still been so peaceful.

I'm awake, I'm alive
Now I know what I believe inside
Now it's my time
I'll do what I want 'cause this is my life
Here (right here), right now (right now)
I'll stand my ground and never back down
I know what I believe inside
I'm awake and I'm alive

Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up
Waking up, waking up

He was screaming her name, even though he knew it was worthless. It was too late. Tears were streaming down his face, and he clutched the two pieces of broken wood that had been hastily tied together for her. Behind the pyre, England was standing, silent tears flowing from his eyes. Any other time, France would've been furious with him for crying for her now, but England wasn't the only one. Everyone in the square was crying. Out of the ten thousand there, only he was screaming for her, but he didn't care. "Jeanne," he sobbed, clutching the wood close to his heart. He wanted to curse God for taking her from him, after his prayers last night.

But Jeanne's words echoed in his mind. "No matter what, promise me that you won't give up on God."

He couldn't. Not after he'd promised her.

Anything for her.


Historical notes – When the English captured Jeanne, they tortured her and tried to make her deny that her voices were from God. Bishop Cauchon was an English bishop (who didn't deserve the title, might I add) who did everything he could to condemn Jeanne. Eventually, the British tricked Jeanne, who couldn't read, into singing two documents that denied her voices were from God, promising her that if she signed the papers, they would release her to the Church rather than the English. However, after she signed them, they brought her back to her cell, where Bishop Cauchon visited her and declared her a relapsed heretic , and the British decided her death would be by fire. The next day, they burned Jeanne D'Arc publicly, with over ten thousand witnesses. Before her death, Jeanne requested a cross, so a British soldier took two pieces of wood and tied them together for her and gave it to her until a priest returned with a real crucifix (the wood being the cross France was holding at the end there). When Jeanne died, everyone in the square was crying, and they knew they'd killed a saint.

I've always been really passionate about Jeanne D'Arc, so writing about her is really cool for me. :D Please review!

French-to-English Translations (via online translator):

Angleterre – England

Mon amour – My love

S'il vous plaît – Please

Je promets évidemment – I promise, of course

Je t'aime – I love you