Warning: This chapter contains severely mature material which some, given the situation, would find offensive. Don't like it, don't read it, and don't complain. You have been thoroughly warned.
Part 11
De Rais was shocked when La Hire ran towards him like death was his heels, "What is the matter with you, La Hire?"
La Hire caught his breath glancing at the few soldiers that surrounded them. Luckily, they didn't seem terribly interested in hearing what La Hire was concerned about. Still, the large man leaned in and whispered, "De Rais, can I speak with you privately?"
De Rais' eyebrows shot up. It must be serious if La Hire needed to whisper. They both found a spot away from the group of soldiers so no one would hear them. La Hire told De Rais what he had heard. De Rais showed little emotion upon hearing La Hire's account of the King's conversation with the Duke of Berry.
"Why, De Rais? Why would the King do such a thing?" La Hire practically begged for an explanation that would clear the King's name. De Rais sadly could not give it.
"Any reason I could give would be that he is testing her resolve, her commitment to our cause," that was the best answer De Rais could give.
"What will he do to ze Maid if she doesn't…erm…you know?" La Hire did not want to have to think about it or let alone say it. He cringed at the thought of her doing such a despicable act.
De Rais answered in a blunt tone, "The King will no doubt imprison her as well. It seems that the life of someone who has given up so much for France means nothing in the King's eyes."
"Is there no way around this?" La Hire's voice cracked under the emotion, causing de Rais' eyes to widen with worry.
"Somehow, Berry and the King have been spying on them, unless we know who the spies are and how they get a hold of such information, I'm afraid zere is nothing we can do."
La Hire dropped to the ground, tears glistening in his eyes. "I think…" he sniffed, "Zis is the first time I questioned this fighting."
**
Curled up next to a tree outside the walls of Paris, Joan with arms over her lower abdomen tried to push away the thoughts and memories of the incident with Edward.
At least she wasn't the only one embarrassed. The look on Edward's face revealed that he too was just as confused as she was. She did worry, though, about how awkward the situation was going to be. She did not know how she would handle going back to her own rooms. What was she going to do?
"Girl?"
She looked up finding Lord La Hire looking down at her, Lord de Rais standing by his side arms folded. La Hire's face looked strangely sad and grim, de Rais' face was…unreadable. Still she was concerned. She moved to stand up but de Rais stopped her, "No, you might want to remain sitting. We have something to tell you."
Much to her surprise La Hire and de Rais sat down on the ground facing her.
"What's going on?"
La Hire glanced over at de Rais, "I can't tell her." He covered his eyes with his hands. That was never a good sign.
"Joan…" de Rais began to tell her the worst news she'd ever hear.
**
Edward grasped the sides of his head in quiet frustration. What was the he thinking? Why was he reacting this way? He was so confused about his feelings towards the girl's kiss. He was not used to being so confused, and he didn't like it. After the girl left, he was left with an erection that he hoped would go away. He never was left in such an embarrassing situation, nor did he know what to do about it. Of course he had some explicit tales from older home-sick soldiers, but he never wanted to think too much about it. But good God the girl was the enemy, his detainer. Yet he did remember all that she had did for him, she nursed him back to health and apparently saved him from being tortured by the citizens of Paris.
So this was the Maid of Orleans. The Angel in White Armor. Edward did admit that she certainly looked like an angel when he first saw her. Then, like now, he had no idea what was going on with his emotions.
He buried his face in his hands. He would no doubt die in this very uncomfortable situation.
**
"What?" she gasped after hearing what the King of France had planned. "You mean I have to…"
De Rais nodded, "I'm sorry but I see no way out of this."
"I see," Joan blinked back tears. A strong hand rested on her shoulder, she looked up staring into La Hire's face. A few tears escaped her eyes, and her friend took her into his large arms for a comforting embrace. "Everything will be alright," he said quietly as she sobbed into his breastplate.
Her two comrades walked her to her rooms. Her hand was on the doorknob, and de Rais stopped her, "Are you sure you want to go in there? You can stay in one of our rooms if you would feel more comfortable…"
Joan shook her head, "I'm not going through with it tonight. I think I'll be alright, thank you."
"If you need anything, let one of us know," La Hire said. Joan nodded, "I will. Good night." She opened the door and as she entered, she diverted her eyes from her captive. She could not bear to look at him for the moment, not because of what she did to him earlier, but because of what she will do to him. She shuddered at the thought. Joan didn't bother changing into her bedclothes and instead collapsed on the bed. She swallowed and sniffed back tears. After she exhaled, she started to sob into her pillow.
***
Fredrico De La Hoya plucked a hunk of meat from the duck served at the feasting table. "I must thank you, my friend, for the food and the clothes."
"It was my pleasure," the King of England chuckled. "Anything for an old friend, but my God, De La Hoya, what has happened since you left? It's been what? Twenty years?"
Fredrico stopped to think, "Yeah, about twenty-four years. Well I went home and opened a bakery."
The guests laughed, "A bakery?"
"Uh-huh," he stared at all of them, "What?"
The King shook his head, "It's hard to see a former soldier under the English forces turn into a baker."
"It's the only job I could find in Venice. My father was a merchant. Heh…it wasn't the life for me."
"And so being a baker was?" the King rose an eyebrow. The guests around the table chuckled. Fredrico took a large gulp of ale, "Yeah, yeah I get it. Like I said it was the only job I could get."
"Be careful with that drink. You never could stop drinking," the King nudged Chandos, "Would you believe that De La Hoya once went into battle plastered out of his mind?"
"But those were the days when I was rarely sober," He took another large swig of the ale.
"Why did you leave His Majesty's forces anyway?" the Duke of Lancaster asked.
De La Hoya shrugged, "I thought of just settling down. I got sick of fighting, I just wanted live a normal life."
The King rubbed his chin in thought, "I see, well that explains it."
"Speaking of settling down. What ever happened to that girl you were so insane about? What was her name? Oh yeah! Selena?" The King's expression changed into one of mild sadness, "She died."
Fredrico looked guilty, "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," the King gave a wry smile and looked adoringly at his wife, "I have my wife now."
"Ah, that's good."
"I take it you are going take up arms with me once again?" Fredrico put down his tankard of ale and shook his head, "I'm sorry my friend, I'm not going to recruit myself as an English soldier this time."
The King frowned in disappointment, "Then why are you in France?"
"I think I'm looking for a mercenary. So I guess I'll become one, temporarily. That way I will still be able to fight on your side in battles of my choosing."
The King smirked, "Yes and you can make pastries for the regiments while you are at it."
**
Edward didn't turn around when Joan of Arc entered the room, but he heard her crawl into her bed. Then, much to his surprise, he heard what he thought was crying. He dared to turn his head to find the girl sobbing into her pillow.
He couldn't explain it but he suddenly felt very protective over her. Some part of him wanted to find whoever had hurt her and break his windpipe. Another part wanted to comfort her. He shook away the protectiveness and concern and with an uneasy feeling listened to her cry until she fell asleep. He quietly listened to her soft breathing throughout the night and did not sleep a wink.
***
Joan didn't want to wake up that morning. Tears still streaked her cheeks from last night. Reluctantly she opened her eyes and got up. Although she dared not to look over at him, she could sense that the Prince was still awake.
When she left her chambers, she found La Hire and de Rais waiting for her. She took both of their hands and told them softly that she needed some time alone. Joan made her way across the plaza towards the Notre Dame Cathedral, not noticing Adrien giving her a concerned wave from the entrance of the tavern. She entered the gothic cathedral following the large group of people to listen to mass. She sat quietly while listening to the bishop. She listened carefully her hands folded in prayer.
After mass, people started to file out, leaving her alone in the church. She prayed for forgiveness. She prayed for guidance. She prayed for the Prince. 'God,' she pleaded in her mind, 'I seek your forgiveness. I give my chastity away to save the life of another…'
In the church, Adrien stared at Joan quietly, wondering what was wrong. It was no secret that Joan was religious but she had sat there all morning. Adrien was not religious at all but when he saw Joan in the plaza, she was alone and distracted, so he decided to follow her. With a sigh, Adrien thought best to leave her alone to her thoughts.
Joan was oblivious to everything around her and continued to pray for forgiveness for the rest of the day. Little to her knowledge, her closest friends sat on the steps of Notre Dame waiting for Joan. It wasn't until dusk when they heard her emerge from the large Gothic doors, looking surprised to see the three men sitting at the steps.
They opened their mouths thinking of what to say. Adrien had little clue as to what was troubling Joan and, in his infinite wisdom, blurted, "Who wants a drink?" La Hire and de Rais turned to stare at the Italian mercenary who returned their gaze with a shrug, "What?"
Joan smiled, and bent down, "I don't know about a drink but something to eat would be wonderful." Adrien beamed when she smiled and stood up. De Rais and La Hire stared at each other wondering how and why Joan had become so moderately chipper in light of what was to become.
Joan knew that avoiding Adrien would cause him to become concerned. She could trust the mercenary with her life, but she was ashamed to tell him what she had to do in order to appease the King of France. No doubt he would do something drastic to save her honor. Honestly, she did not want him involved at all. It was something between her, the King of France, and apparently the Prince of Wales.
Joan entered the small tavern with her friends. She didn't eat or drink but became engaged in conversation in hopes that no one would notice her troubles. Adrien managed to pull a reluctant Azrai to the table. He came off uncomfortable at first but loosened after the conversations went on. Joan did remember to return his razor.
Around the time both La Hire and Adrien lost sobriety was when Joan decided to return to her quarters. Her stomach churned. She watched as her friends departed, de Rais dragging La Hire out of the tavern and Azrai dragging Adrien back to his room.
As she reached her room, she loosened her gown slightly, tears filling her eyes. Swallowing, she opened the door to her chambers. The Prince sat as he usually did with his pale back toward her. Quietly, not taking her eyes off him she reached to her nightstand, taking the leonine pendant from where she had kept it safe since it was torn from the Prince's neck. He felt her eyes on him. She could only give him a cold stare to try to keep her feelings from being revealed. The Prince swallowed, eyes worried. Joan calmly strode forward so she was in full view of him. His eyebrows drew together in concern. She bit back tears as loosened her gown even more and it fell to the ground in a puddle at her feet. That was when the Prince realized what was going to happen. Fear flashed across his face as he crawled backwards as far as he could away from her. The chains limited his movements and he was a trapped animal being stalked by a hunter. Why would she do this? Her nude form strode towards him deliberately and smoothly very much like a predator. He looked small as he stared up into her face as she looked down over him.
She reached over and grasped at his chains, giving them a sharp tug, binding his hands even more. Joan gripped his jaw to force him to look at her, but she didn't try to read his face. She devoured his lips in a forceful, violent kiss. At that point she was no longer in control of her body, nor was she Joan of Arc any longer. The Prince couldn't move. Her grip on his chains became tighter and with one more tug she forced Edward to the ground on his back. Prince Edward coughed trying to steady his breathing. Joan's hands trailed to his dirty, torn pants; she pulled them down roughly. The Prince strained against his chains in vein. She ran her fingertips along his hipbone and the scar on his thigh, inching ever closer to his manhood. She violated him with her hands mercilessly before inching her body closer, preparing to forcefully take him within her body. She looked up finding the young man with his arm draped over his eyes in shame and pain. Joan inched her pelvis further up the Prince's body near his hipbone and lower abdomen and rotated her hips. Edward gritted his teeth, and a tear ran down from the corner of his eye. Joan leaned over and took a hold of his hand, placing his pendant inside securely.
"Please, forgive me," she whispered in his ear. She stood looking down at his broken form, the remnants of her assault spattered all over his abdomen. Quietly she picked up her gown and left the room, leaving the Prince shivering in the corner.
A/N: There it is. Sorry it took so long to update. I just got a new computer and I've been trying to configure it. As I said before, if this stuff offends some of you, sorry. But I WARNED you. I will be very angry if this gets pulled off because of complaints. But do not worry, it will get better after a few troubling moments.
