A/N: hey people!
This is actually a challenge submission on deviant art. Something AU on Joan D'Arc and France. Anything goes as long as it is AU.
So I decided to do a AU universe where everyone is a normal human in high school.
This is a oneshot.
Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
He was the school player. Dated and slept with practically every girl in his school, the schools close by, and a few in college.
She was the good girl. Straight A's. Skirt went past her knees all the way to the floor. Hair always in a neat bun. Went to church every Sunday and a few times after school. The girl who was always smiling and happy to help someone else.
One of the few girls he had not been able to get.
Not to say that he didn't try. He would flirt with her, compliment her, give her flowers, give her presents, and ask her out on countless dates.
She would blush as he complimented her. Politely accept his flowers. Politely decline his presents. And of course politely decline the dates.
She would tutor him every time he asked. Most of the tutoring however he would simply stare at her and flirt while she tried to teach him.
"Francis. You need to know this for the test." she reminded him.
"Mm hmm." he said watching her.
She sighed and looked at him. "Francis."
"Can I kiss you?" he asked.
She sighed. "Francis we have been over this too many times. No."
"Please?" he asked giving her his best wide eyed open look.
She gave him a hard look before glancing back at her notebook.
"If you answer the next question I will kiss you." she bargained.
Francis brightened. "Alright! Ask away!"
She flipped though her notes before asking "What is the quadratic formula?"
"X equals negative b plus or minus the square root of b minus four a c divided by 2 a." he answered.
"Correct."
He grinned. "Well? A promise is a promise."
"So it is." she said standing up. She walked to him. "Don't move." she ordered.
"Yes ma'm." he said straightening up and sitting still.
She leaned in close to him. He closed his eyes and breathed in her scent. The distant smell of roses and the simple smell of fresh air.
Her lips brushed his cheek.
His eyes snapped open to her smug face.
"I said I would kiss you." she said sitting down again. "But I did not say where."
His hand came to his cheek and brushed his fingers against the area she had just kissed. "So you did."
Francis walked back to his home after the tutoring. He stared at the sky and watched the clouds go by as he thought of that one girl.
Joan.
She was completely different than other girls. The other girls were simple winds. Here for a moment but gone the next.
Joan was like fire. Constantly burning and never leaving.
Whenever she smiled at him fire coursed through his veins. Whenever her fingers brushed his skin desire flowed through him. The image of her in the sunlight around her with the wind lightly making her hair fly around her and her smile was permanently burned into his mind, forever appearing whenever he closed his eyes.
"YOU FUCKING FROG!" a familiar voice yelled.
Turning his head Francis rolled his eyes at the sight of his accountancies Arthur Kirkland storming towards him.
"What do you want Arthur?" he asked.
"What the hell were you thinking sleeping with my sister?" he screamed at him.
Francis rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. "Trust me, she wasn't saying no."
"You fucking had sex with her!"
"If it puts your mind at ease, she was in the one who initiated it."
A vein appeared in his forehead. "No it does not bloody put my mind at ease."
"Did she get pregnant?" Francis asked.
"You're lucky she didn't." Arthur screamed. "If she had I would've hunted you with my fathers hunting rifle."
"Then there's no reason for you to get so worked up about it."
"You had sex with my sister!"
"Yes, I think we have already established that."
"You don't even like her!"
"No I don't actually. She actually came to me."
"Lies!"
"No lie. She came to me. Asked for one night of simple fucking. And when I woke up in the morning she was gone."
"So not only are you a whore you're a liar as well!"
"I'm not lying you stupid Englishman. I think I know now why she wanted to sleep with me." Francis said. "She wanted to piss you off."
"She would never do that!" Arthur yelled. "We are very close and-"
"And is that why she is constantly denying that you two are related?" Francis interrupted.
Arthur cracked his knuckles. "Watch out you fucking frog or I'll-"
"Or you'll what?" Francis interrupted again. "See you later Englishman."
Francis turned and started to walk away only to fall to the ground from the punch on the back of his head.
He whirled around. "What the hell? Are you a coward? Attacking someone while they're back is turned."
"And there's more where that came from."
Arthur leaped forward again towards Francis. Only for someone to grab him by the back of his collar and slam him onto the ground.
Francis gapped at the person who had slammed Arthur onto the ground. He rubbed his eyes once to make sure he was seeing clearly.
Joan was on top of him with one knee pressed into his neck and one hand holding his shoulder onto the ground.
"I will not tolerate you attacking my friend." she said, her French accent coming out slightly thick from her anger.
"Joan." Francis said weakly. "Wha…how…"
"I saw him attacking you." she said looking up at him.
He quickly picked her up from Arthur and looked her up and down.
"What?"
"Where on earth did you learn something like that?"
"I have been taking self defense classes for five years now." she said.
Arthur picked himself up from the ground. "This isn't over frog."
Joan took a step towards him. "To get to Francis, you have to get through me."
Arthur's eyes narrowed at her before he turned and left.
"Well. That was exciting." she said.
Francis nodded still looking at her.
"You are starting to scare me." she said.
"You are amazing, you know?" he asked quietly.
She turned her head however he was sure that he could see a small blush on her face. "Stop."
"No I mean it."
"So do I. Stop."
"Joan." he said quietly. "I love you."
Her face fell slightly at that. "Don't."
"That's…that's not usually the reaction I would get."
"I bet."
"What do you mean?" Francis asked frowning.
She turned to him fully. "Francis tell me. How many times have you told someone that you loved them?"
Francis didn't answer.
"See? You can't even answer." she said. "I'm sorry Francis. But I don't want your love."
"What if I changed?" he asked.
"What do you mean?"
"I change. No more flirting with other girls. No more having sex with other girls. No more flings, one night stands, or breaking up other couples." he said. "Just you and me."
"And how do I know that you will keep that?"
Francis reached out and gently held her cross. His hand closed over it.
"I swear on this cross and the lord above." he swore. "You. Only you. No one else."
Her hand came up and covered his. "I have chosen to wait until marriage." she said.
"I know. I can wait for our wedding night." he said.
Her eyebrow raised. "You are seventeen and you already choose me as your wife?"
"Why not?" he asked. "I think I know enough about you to want to marry you."
"You barely know me."
"I know enough."
Joan smiled. "No, you don't."
"Then let me get to know you." he said.
Joan smiled. "Alright then."
"You live a few blocks away right?"
"Yes."
"Then I will walk you home."
The walk was silent.
"Were you born here or in France?" she asked.
"Here. But I spend most of my vacations in France." he answered.
"Do you know why my parents named me Joan?" she asked.
"No."
"It was after the saint." she explained. "Joan D'Arc. The girl who fought for France and helped it win its freedom from England."
"She was burned by the English."
"Unfortunately." she said sadly. "There's something I like to do in history. I enjoy pretending that the nations are represented by humans."
"Personifications?"
"Something like that. And when I do that and we are learning about a specific person in history, like George Washington for America or Joan D'Arc for France, I would like to imagine what their relationship would be like."
"That does sound like it makes history a bit more interesting." he said.
Joan nodded. "What do you think? How would the personification of France and Joan D'Arc be if they met?"
Francis thought for a moment. Finally he slowly said "I think, he wouldn't believe in her at first. Then he would humor her and maybe jokingly follow her. After she proved herself he would stop with the jokes and really follow her. She was extremely devoted to France after all. And then. I think he would fall in love with her."
"But they couldn't be together for quite a few reasons." Joan added. "One she was a human and he was a personification. And the other was the promise she made to the saints guiding her. That she would remain a virgin."
"True." Francis agreed. "But maybe they could be in a way together. Maybe in words but no actions."
"And then England killed her."
He could almost see in his minds eyes that scene. He gave the past Joan the face and body of his Joan. Walking with her head held high to the stake. The crowds cheering and hissing at her. Not a single hint of fear in her eyes as she locked them with the personification of England.
The smoke filling the air.
Her eyes aimed towards the sky as she silently sang the French anthem to herself.
A single tear rolling down her cheek.
"Francis? Are you alright?" Joan asked.
Francis snapped out of his thoughts. He brought a hand to his forehead. "Yes I'm fine. Just got caught in my thoughts."
"You were extremely pale."
"Sorry." he murmured again.
"May I take you out?" he asked changing the subject. "A picnic? On Sunday?"
Joan smiled. "Alright."
She glanced towards the houses. "This is mine." she said motioning to the white and red one.
He nodded. He took her hand in his and kissed the back of it.
"Until tomorrow, my little saint." he said.
"Until tomorrow." she said smiling before going up to her house and entering it.
Francis whistled as he walked away, his hands in his pockets.
He finally had a chance with Joan and he was not going to mess this up. Maybe it had something to do with pasts. Maybe there was some truth to the little daydream Joan had about the personifications. If it was real he firmly believed that she had been Joan D'Arc.
And he had been the personification of France standing right beside her.
He sighed. If that was true then their romance ended in tragedy.
Not this time though. This time would different. Personifications didn't exist and even if they did he wasn't one and neither was she. They could be together. They could grow old and die together.
They would make this time work.
Hope you guys liked this oneshot.
Questions? Comments? Leave them in a review.
Until next time.
This is Phoenix-Fire Power over and out.