Seated at the throne, Arthur glanced over at Merlin. The wizard wore his cape, as was custom of him, and there was a frown on his lips. Arthur fixed his crown and straightened his pose before he waved his hands at the guards to open the doors, allowing a steady and tall soldier entrance to the room.

"My King." The soldier immediately fell to one knee.

Arthur nodded. "You may rise."

"My King," he held a hand to his chest, easing his breathing as he stood, "there has been word from Sir Galahad."

Merlin shifted and caught Arthur's attention. He looked over at his court magus and expected him to say something but when nothing was said, he turned back to the knight before him. "What type of news?"

"On the subject of Francia and South Sussex," the man never once looked the king in the eyes, but he lowered his head further, "The battles have become bloodier and there has been many fatalities."

Arthur shot from the throne, face twisting in confusion and what seemed to be anger. "Pardon me?"

The knight did not so much as flinch before taking a deep breath, calculating his following words. "Many of our troops have perished as we have tried to kept peace between the two Kingdoms. Sir Galahad suggested we cease trying to keep the peace; it seems only to hurt our forces."

Arthur set his hand on the pommel of his sword, "How many troops of ours have perished?"

"He did not state. Sir Galahad was very disturbed and injured at the moment. There were at least sixty knights lost at the hands of both parties."

"Sixty?" The King turned back to his magus. "How many had we sent?"

"A hundred," Merlin answered, "Mercenaries included, we did not risk our troops for fear it would cause tension between South Sussex and Camelot."

Arthur's brows furrowed, "That means there are less than forty knights present still?"

Merlin nodded.

The King tensed, knuckles whitening as he tightened the grip on his sword, clenching his jaw. "Call for a meeting of the Round. We must further discuss matters of the Francian War. Please do make sure that the Lady Jeanne attends this meeting as she is of main concern. Do not let word escape of our loss."

Finally turning to the knight that was already awkwardly standing there he asked one last question, "Is Galahad to survive his injuries?"

The poor soldier took a deep breath, "They do not look to be life-threatening but they could cause severe pain if left untreated."

"I implore, send a doctor for him; the best you can contract in Francia. Worry not of the price, I will send the funds."


A titter, light and sweet. Lowering the sword, she fixed her gauntlet. "I very much apologize," she sighed, sitting back on the fountain.

He stared at her. The setting sun shun against her armour, painting a warm orange glow upon it that would soon disappear along with the sun. "Are you truly apologetic?" He asked, removing his right vambrace and setting it on the floor next to him. He stretched, falling back on the grass behind him.

She shook her head slowly, slightly hesitating. "Not exactly," she laughed, "When you fell, I felt remorseful but seeing as you are not injured, I am pleased with my handiwork."

He smiled, "You have been very diligent, I think you might even overpower someone."

"Gawain," she blinked, "I highly doubt that."

He laughed, biting his lip and looking up at the sky, "You have gotten stronger."

"You flatter me," she waved her hand, "you need not do that."

The sun fell below the earth and breathed its last for the day. They sky still lightly lit turned darker by the minute, a fresher breeze settling over the castle gardens. A thick blanket of stars draping over the sky and hanging high above the two young adults.

"Jeanne," he blinked, "what if…"

She pushed herself off the fountain, sheathing her sword, not having heard his whisper. "I think we should head back, the day is much too old to be in the gardens. They will be releasing the dogs very soon."

Gawain stood, sort of relieved he was left unheard. "Yes, I am already missing my bed and a bottle of wine."

Jeanne laughed again, a laugh he always welcomed. "You are much too silly," she said as she headed towards the castle.

Catching up to her, he grinned, "Would you like to join me for a glass of wine, my lady?"

She rolled her eyes just as he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her along with him. "I have an early rise tomorrow, if I drink, I will surely cause trouble."

He nudged her head, ruffling her hair and making it a complete mess. "Then," he let go of her, "tomorrow we could share toasts." Crickets began to sing and the breeze ruffled the leaves.

She frowned, "I would rather not drink tomorrow either."

"Not drink, Jeanne," he laughed, nudging her, "I mean toast. As in toasted bread."

She pushed him, "You are such a jester."

He bowed just as they entered the castle. "I will accept that as a compliment, my lady." Facing the stone hallway, he spoke, "Will we spar again tomorrow?" The empty halls were a little chilling, and it made him uneasy. The darkness was something he never had liked, ever since his childhood. Why had the torches not been lit yet?

Jeanne shook her head. "Sadly, I will not have time. What about the day after?"

He sucked in air, "No. I have some business to take care of."

She smiled, "Then we must reschedule until further notice. Well," she breathed, "I bid you adieu."

He waved, giving her a bright smile. "I bid you a lovely evening. Will we be having toast tomorrow?"

Jeanne nodded, "We can invite Diarmuid as well."

Gawain grinned, "I will call him. See you then," he bowed. He was always so teaseful with her but she enjoyed herself when around him, he would always make everyone smile.

"Sir Gawain!" The voice echoed against the stone walls, the patter of footsteps filled the hallway, "You are needed at the Round Table immediately!" A knight approached in a jog, catching both the adults just as they were to part.

Gawain furrowed his brows, exchanging a glance with Jeanne before he spoke, "Is something the matter?"

"The lady Jeanne must also attend," the knight panted, stopping right before them as he caught his breath, "the King requests your presence at once."


The round table was set ablaze with the buzzing of chatter. Lit torches had cast long shadows upon the room while the knights mingled around one another, the way bees would at a hive. Some of the men were seated while others stayed standing, goblets of water in their hands. Some stood by the open windows while the rest of the knights remained at the table. The topic of discussion was confusion and curiosity over such a short notice for a meeting.

As this was Jeanne's first time at a meeting of the Round Table, she was nervous. Her hands were fidgeting with the straps of her vambrace while her eyes were laid upon the many knights who seemed not to notice her presence. She was biting the inside of her cheek as her leg bounced underneath the giant wooden table.

She twitched as Gawain sat at the seat next to her. She looked over at him, watching his demeanour, analyzing how he was so calm and fluid. She leaned towards him slightly, just enough to indicate she wanted to talk to him. He leaned over as well.

"What do you think it is the King wants to about?" She whispered, hoping no other knight had heard her.

Gawain shrugged, "Arthur has barely mentioned a thing to me."

Her eyes fell to her gauntlets, "Do you think it is about me?" She huffed, "Has Camelot declared war with Francia? What—what if Francia has lost the war?"

"Jeanne," he eased, his voice clear past the loud and deep voices of the rest of the Round.

She looked at him, frown on her lips and a worried look in her eyes. "What if—"

"Everything will be fine, the king will be here soon and the matter will be settled. In any case, there will be nothing to fret over."

As if on cue, the birch doors groaned open, causing silence to fill the room as everyone stood. The King strode in equipped with a cape and crown, he walked through the crowd that parted at his very sight and took his place at his respectful seat. Everyone sat in unison after the king had sat down but the silence was kept.

"We have called for a meeting in order to discuss our involvement in the Francian War. After the loss of countless lives and the injury of Sir Galahad, it is only fair that we hold a meeting."

The table boomed with life again, loud and strenuous arguments lit the table with life and scandal. Knights were no better than the common housewife when it came to gossip and assumption.

Jeanne took a deep breath, closing her eyes as she heard her name slip through the mouths of the nobelity in the room. She could hear their contempt and dissatisfaction with her. But, there was one voice that was different from the rest; that of Gawain's.

"Jeanne, it is not your fault," he murmured.

She gave a small nod before the king pounded on the table, silencing his knights with only two thumps.

He stood, everyone's eyes on him. "This meeting is not to tear Camelot's relationship with Francia. You might be quick to judge Francia and many of the Franks we accepted into our lands but remember who it was that begun this war. South Sussex hold as much, if not more, guilt over our casualties than Francia." His voice boomed, radiating off the high ceiling and silencing even the many thoughts of his Round Table. "We have asked the Round to meet in order to discuss the Kingdom's benefit not to declare war."

Jeanne could finally breathe. Her heart easing and some tightness in her chest relieving.

"Everyone will have a chance to speak and vote; all will be heard and respected. The subject of our talk will be whether Camelot stops trying to keep peace between South Sussex and Francia." As was custom, one by one they stood and spoke on their worries and thoughts, leaving the King himself as the last to speak, so as to avoid bias. They began the debate clockwise.

Bedivere, a very trusted knight of the king, stood. "War is a delicate and most sensitive topic whether as a subject or an action. We must consider the social implications of involving Camelot in something that should not be our war to fight. Yes, we might be aiding those in need but we must also consider which Kingdom is most beneficial to us. Francia is a sea away, but South Sussex is right next to us, helping South Sussex will leave us at a disadvantage against Europa but if we are to side with Francia there will be an immediate threat of South Sussex waging war with Camelot." There were cheers as he sat, it seemed as if many agreed with his thinking.

Another knight stood. He cleared his throat and fixed his tunic. "Francia had helped all of Logres against the invading Saxons, it is only fair that we return the favour. South Sussex has no claim or right to Brittany and Normandie and thus I suggest we continue to try and help maintain the commoners and civilians safe."

A blond began, "Let us not forget South Sussex's aid and help during the time of the Southern Fire. South Sussex has always been a supportive and a perfect ally. To think we would even help Francia? It is absurd and ridiculous. South Sussex offers our economic growth and social prosperity. Our Kingdoms flourish continuously and if we help Francia in this war, we will cease to succeed."

This went on, knight by knight. Some statements were hateful while others caused true thinking and consideration.

Much too soon, it was Jeanne's turn. After an approving and reassuring nod from Gawain, she stood.

"Hello dear knights," she gulped, gathering her courage. It was odd, she could lead an army to victory but standing in front of foreign soldiers and nobility caused her great uneasiness. She took a deep breath, the judging eyes of the knights burning holes through her small frame.

She looked up, away from the knights, past the windows and into the dark night, thinking back to her home; to Francia. The warm sun upon her skin, the growing wheat for miles to come, the mountains in the background of her small village and the feeling of the soft earth beneath her feet as she ran through the farming fields in the late spring.

"As you all already know, my name is Jehanne d'Arc and I am a General of the French army. I am no politician or nobel or… or even a woman with education. I am a simple peasant girl that grew up in a lovely but tiny village in one of the most uncared for departments of Francia, which so lies right next to Old Saxony." She looked about the table. "I had lived a satisfying and humble childhood. I have learned all I could from watching my parents, from church, from whatever it was that I saw or heard. I," she looked at Gawain, "had never learnt of the turmoil that my country was in because my father did not want his children to know violence. I was shocked when my tiny village was partly burnt to ashes by the Saxons…" She paused, blinking away the memory of the high flames.

"A feeling so strong settled in my soul that I had to do everything in my power to fight for my country. For my king. And even if it brought me to my death I would do all I could. I will not bore you with the details of my military career, or my injuries or even of my failures. You all know of that.

"Sir Bedivere so rightly stated; this is not your war. This is not Camelot's battle. I ask not for war, for support or for fear of South Sussex. I ask," she looked at the king in the eyes, a very bold move that shocked the entire table, "I ask for the protection of children," her volume increased with every word, "of wives, of mothers and sons and ah," she lost her breath, the table a dead and thick silence, "and...and the civilians who have not a single quarrel with South Sussex. I ask for the small villages and large cities alike who were torn apart by war. For families that mourn and weep for a better life, for a peaceful time.

"Camelot, if it stays in Francia, it is to be neutral."

She took uneven breaths as she sat down, closing her eyes momentarily to calm herself. She was shaking but it wasn't enough to show the other knights that she was afraid.

"I wish to speak," a redhead spoke up, stopping Gawain from standing.

The king looked at Gawain and after the kight approved, Arthur allowed the interference.

A man stood, his lips stretched into a thin line as he straightened his stance. Confidence and poise glinting in his eyes. "With all due respect to the lady Jeanne. I suggest that, politically speaking, we continue our work in Francia as we have done so far. Cornwall and Camelot have an alliance with South Sussex and this should not be overlooked over the skirmishes in Europa. Francia poses a threat to Sussex and it is only natural that us Englishmen support the English and not those who we have quarreled with for ages. I propose military support for South Sussex in their battle for Brittany and Normandie."

Jeanne shot up from her seat, not even asking for permission. "Pardon my French, La France n'avait jamais possédé une menace à Sussex. In fact, it was Sussex qui attaque à la France," she defended, breathing heavily at such an accusation. When fully riled up, it was a common thing to hear her speak in French, it was as if she had forgotten English all together.

"Lady Jeanne," the king began, "Sir Tristan is speaking."

"I do not mind, my King. I would like to engage in a debate with the Lady, if your highness would allow." Tristan, the Prince of Cornwall, smiled kindly.

"I will allow it," Arthur nodded.

Tristan turned towards Jeanne, the knights staring between them in anticipation. "At the table, we speak only in English, I very much apologize, but it is the only language we all speak and understand."

Jeanne could hear the murmur and hisses of whispers and hushed insults or comments that gave the table some life.

She blinked, holding her head high and placing her hand over the crucifix that hung around her neck. "Sussex attacked Francia. Never before had Francia posed a threat—you so claim—to Sussex's rule, land or anything of the sort. Your fellow English Kingdom attacked our lands, exploited the country and hurt our people. My people." She held her hand to her chest, "I do not speak on my King's behalf, but from what I know we have only been trying to defend our territory and lands from every party invading; whether it be Sussex or Old Saxony. Brittany and Normandie are French duchies, they are not English property."


Author's Note

Alright, wow, that was a rough chapter to write. It was very stressful and I had to consult 3 different people that gave me three different ideas but I settled with this one, courtesy of my bff and me big bro.

This is very important; this fic takes place around the year 410~ BUT France is united as if it were the year 1429~ I hope this is not confusing!

Anywayyyyy, I hope to hear your thoughts on this chapter.

Sincerely,

Ms. AtomicBomb