Hi, this is my frst fic, I wish you enjoy this ~!
I want to give thanks to Melissa who helped me with my french and english! thank you darling!
1425, France, Village Domremý A normal day, Jeanne was always playing with whatever thing she could find in her Little village, sometimes bugs, sometimes she played with the grass, always alone. She had always liked it that way anyway.
A voice came from nowhere, but Jeanne noticed it was from someone from her village. The person shouted "C'est lui! C'est Francis! Francis Bonnefoy!"(It's here it's here, it is Francis Bonnefoy)Jeanne stopped playing in the grass and quickly ran to see if she could see him.
Francis was popular in the villages because he always gave them food and tried his best to help them. Though he had the body and face of a young boy, his mind wasn't of one. He cared so much for his people, they were the only reason why he kept fighting for a better France, to end the war ; these kind of people were everything to him. Francis was riding a horse,the villagers welcomed him with music, some food and roses, which of course were all red. Jeanne would always hear people talking about him. People of the village talked of him every time of the day, but she never had a chance to look at him.
Finally she was there looking at him. her eyes opened more than normal, she couldn't talk. She wanted to say something nice to him, something like thank you so much for helping us! or you're really nice I wish someday I could be just like you! But not a single word came from her lips. Finally Francis walked by her, and noticed the little Jeanne. She looked at the floor, embarrassed. Francis got down from his horse holding a rose that some of the villagers gave to him and put it in front of Jeanne. "Est-tu triste?"(Are you sad?) Francis asked the little girl. Jeanne was still mute looking at her shoes, at the ground, at whatever was on the ground, she couldn't see him. She was very embarrassed , when she heard his voice with that beautiful perfect french accent of his, she almost ran away from him. Francis smiled, he knelt and again he spoke "¿Est-ce que tu est triste ? ¿Coment tu t'appelle?"(Are you sad? what's your name?) Jeanne shyly whispered to him "Non, j-je ne suis pas triste. Mon nom est Je-Jeanne D'arc …m-monsieur!"(No, Iam not sad, my name is Jeanne D'arc) Francis laughed softly "Oh is that your name? Beautiful name you have! Well I'm Francis Bonnefoy! Pleased to meet you miss". Though she was too scared to raise her eyes from the ground, she finally mustered enough courage look at him.
Francis was still smiling at her and oh, what a warm smile he had, he was too perfect. He was just like the people had said he was: silky blonde hair, deep blue eyes, a warm smile and refined clothes.
The boy looked almost like a prince to her, perfect and yet so far away from her reach. "P-prince" she said almost as a whisper but Francis could hear her, and she then realized she had been thinking out loud and that she had just called Francis a prince. She clamped both of her hands on her mouth, immediatly regretting what she said. Oh poor Jeanne, her face red was all red, what would Francis think about her? Francis raised an eyebrow and then laughed "Do I look like a prince to you, ma cherié? Take this, ma petite princesse" Jeanne slowly took the rose he had been holding. Her hand was trembling but carefully she finally took it. Francis reached her forehead and kiss it. All the villagers were shocked by how Francis gave a rose and a kiss on the forehead to a child, girls were jealous of her, and the boys couldn't believe the girls where jealous of an 13 year-old child.
Jeanne almost lost self-control, now her face was even redder, anyone could see perfectly the little red face. Francis spoke for the last time.
"Ma petite princesse! Why do you look so red, are you sure you're not a rose? Because if you were one I'd take you with me for sure!"
"I…I…" she was too embarrassed to respond "I guess not… s-sir" Francis got up and gave Jeanne a warm smile "Well Jeanne it was a pleasure to meet you I hope to see you again! Remember to smile more!" Jeanne nodded and Francis continued on his journey.
Another bright day in the Village of Domremý, Jeanne woke up because of the sunlight coming from her window, softly covering her face. She sat up in her bed, thinking it wasn't a dream…. Or was it. I don't know...he kissed me in the forehead yesterday... right? She couldn't believe it until she finally looked at the red rose beside her bed. it was real and then she remembered that he called her "ma petite princesse"(my little princess) and she called him "prince" and her face turned red again. She took the rose and held it very hard against her and prayed to god to let her see him again someday one more time. But something disturbed her. The light of the 'sun' looked somehow different from other days. She also felt a great warmth in the air that just wasn't normal.
She walked to her window and saw the worst thing she had ever seen. Her village was in flames, the sounds of metal clashing against one another, dead people on the ground, blood, people screaming.
She was too scared so she ran in her house looking for her mother "Mom! Mummy! Where are you! Please answer me!"she ran to the living and then stopped to watch a horrible scene.
A blonde boy was standing over the blood-drenched bodies of her parents. The blonde boy turnned around and saw the little child trembling and spoke to her in english "Another French little girl, are you lost or something?" Jeanne did not know english, so she didn't understand any of his words. As she tried to step back from him, the boy raised quickly his sword against Jeanne's neck and looked at her "I can't believe I need to kill someone like you" Jeanne was frozen. She couldn't speak. If she screamed she was certain he would kill her for sure. Is this my fate, my Lord ? I don't want to die here, I don't want to die like this.
In that precise moment another blonde boy entered from the front door. He looked at Jeanne and then to the boy. Jeanne couldn't believe he was here.
"Don't you dare idiot, don't kill her!"
"Well, well. What a surprise to find you again Francis."
"I say the same Arthur, now raise your sword and fight against me. Let my people be and fight me instead."
Jeanne watched as the blonde boy ran towards Francis
"Jeanne, caches-toi!"(hide yourself)
Jeanne nodded and ran to a wardrobe in the room and hid there, crying like she never had before, wishing Francis would be fine, wishing it was all a dream, and this was just a nightmare of hers. With all the tears she shed, she cried herself to sleep.
The fight was starting and luckily Jeanne was safe. It wasn't the first time Francis fought against Arthur nor would it be the last.
Arthur's right leg was badly wounded while almost all of Francis's body was. He was too exhausted, he could barely breath. Arthur spoke to him.
"Well… bloody French, seems like I win. I'll let you off alive today, but next time you cross my path, I'll kill you without mercy."
"Fine, I'll be looking for you."
Arthur stepped on Jeanne's dead parents as if they were the ground itself and got out of the house.
Francis opened the wardrobe and grabbed the sleeping girl as the princess she was and whispered to her ear "Everything is going to be fine ma chérie, I'll protect you."
After a while, Jeanne woke up in Francis's arms. He was hurt. She could see all the blood in his arms, face, and his fingers and yet he had that beautiful warm smile of his. "Bonjour, ma petite princesse!"
