Aisubeki Dearest

A/N: I wanted to take a break from the comedy I just finished, and do an OC fic concerning Marco…Yes, I do bash Marco quite a lot, and I pair him with Lyserg, whom I also like with Jeanne, and Ren…ah, so confusing. This is rather serious, and it's romantic as well! Yay! This story is dedicated to KagenoKatana, sakuuya, and Satine89! You are the best!! I hope one of you reads this! Well, enjoy the story, and it may be a tearjerker in the end…gloom

PS: "Aisubeki" means "dearest" in Japanese, this word has a lot of meaning to the main character, Elle, and it shall be explained later on…moreover, if you are wondering why Kye is speaking a bit of Japanese to Elle, it is because he is teaching his little "French Tenshi." - Subarashiki, ne??? (Kye will be introduced later on -)

A/N: In this fic, I am pretending that Jeanne is somewhere around 20 years old, and Marco stays however old he is, ok? And if you were wondering, Elle is 23 and Kye is somewhere around 25 - Funny how age works, ne?

Prologue: Of Younger Days

The soft sun shone through the windows of the cathredal and the grey skies were illuminated by the ravishing morning light that graced the French Rivera.

Jeanne absentmindedly ripped open an envelope in a rather un-innocent manner, nearly giving the blameless piece of paper a smoldering glare as she read that it was addressed to her. All of the other X-Laws had gone home on a summer holiday Jeanne had so lovingly given them, and she and Marco were finally alone to do as they pleased to blossom their stifled romance once more.

The elegant blonde man gave his Maiden a quizzical look, "Iron Maiden, what are you doing?"

The beautiful young girl replied, "Opening…a letter." she growled, shaking back her sheet of silvery long hair.

Marco gave her another strange look, but it quickly faded into a warm smile, and he bent over, looking into her eyes.

"Marco, please, just call me Jeanne." she said, her heavenly tone softening into something more loving.

Marco brought his face closer to hers, and indulged her in a chaste kiss, with a whisper of, "Good morning mademoiselle." and a flittering blush on Jeanne's part.

It had been a tedious dady where the voices of many unknown people had rolled as if universal tumbleweeds through Jeanne's head, and it showed on her lovely, troubled countenance as she read the letter, though as she got farther she once again felt a vibration of happiness at knowing who the sender had been.

Dearest Jeanne,

Hello, it's your elder sister Elle speaking-erm-or rather, writing…but it seems as if you've gone beyond the color of skin here with your new missions with the X-Laws.

She had always known her elder sister to speak in a rather cryptic manner, but this bewildered her far more than the previous utterings…the last time she had seen her, the sweet, cynical creature, Elle had fluctuated between mortified utterings and sudden bursts of laughter, often commenting on rather pointless things that she had observed lately…and occasionally being a trifle innapropriate in the young nun's point of view…

A fragile, tremulous, lovely thing with a mind that that was peculiar only to her person, and with a vicious temper, had Jeanne only seen it thankfully once, that could possibly even frighten the holiest of saints…a girl with not her own heavenly charm but with earthly beauty as if she had grown from the soil fully grown...in fact, even though they were, sisters, but looked nothing alike in particular…save their eyes.

Both were the shade of deep garnet crimson, Jeanne's being a trifle lighter and Elle's the darker…and so if they were not alike? Does that make them strangers? No, socially it shouldn't.

However, her sister was not vulgar in the least…it was just the spirit of the poet…to comment on things either humourous or often seemingly ludicrous to ordinary human mind, and to display the curve of an ankle, the shape of the lips, to add a sensual manner to even descriptions of nature which were, nonetheless ever-present but flickering in their dying majesty.

Rather happy with Marco I expect? I'd love to meet him, I am glad you have finally found someone…I saw your last picture and you two looked so cheerful together, even though mother and father both opposed your marriage and took it to their graves…but as I once said, "Ah, where hath the flower of the house gone?"

Yes, yes, now I am suspecting that you think me more jumbled than ever, but I do have one little sonnet that I have written in my solitude and darkness for you. Ah, the gold-gilded sayings that stem from the mind delving in its loneliness…so melancholy and cheerful at once…

Here it is: Miss Iron Maiden, why do you laugh at poor old Mr. Joker? You're quite as stiff and prim as if you'd eaten up a poker!

So, will you join the ever-running dance of poetry or stay as you are? You're quite good you know…oops.

Jeanne's nostrils flared.

I'm sorry, I was just cleaning out mother and father's house once on a visit there, and I found them within a locked box…of course that was a few years ago, but it has taken until now to reconcile my sin to you, dearest sister.

If you wish to become a poet, the offer is always there, but it's a lifetime commitment because poets must die before they become famous.

I'm doing well, very bored, but well, I suppose…I wish you a good summer, and beware if someone comes to call at your door sometime, I may be coming over…yes, all the way from dearest London!

Yours eternally (really I mean it),

Ell L'Ciel

At the end of the sweet-worded thought shocking communication, Jeanne was both mystified and confused with an overwhelming sense of anger at her sister never telling her about the embarrassing discovery…her sister had never been so enigmatic in all her life, though she remembered in her last visit she had been a trifle eccentric but not borderline abberrant as she was now…she wondered how she was doing now…

Suddenly, her pure, crimson eyes caught a statement in miniscule letters at the bottom of the page.

PS: I got thrown out of the nunnery…but anyway, life is tough, get a helmet as the wise ones say! Hahaha! Now I'm living alone in Yorkshire, amongst the rolling purple moors and the unruly thistles that grow in suffered silence! Farewell young one!

"…as much as I care for her…does she ALWAYS have to put the important somewhat sane passages at the end in small letters?" said Jeanne, incensed.

Marco embraced her, he had been reading over her shoulder, "You have a sister?" he asked innocently, "Why I never knew…"

Jeanne nodded, "She is a poet, she doesn't live in France, but in London…she's a nice young woman, but a little odd…and still…." she said with her control loosening. "I CAN'T BELIEVE SHE GOT HERSELF THROWN OUT OF THE CONVENT!!!" she gasped.

Marco's eloquent blue eyes held a puzzled gait, "What…? But Jeanne…how did she manage to do that? Please do not tell me she ran away."

Jeanne wagged a finger at her beloved, "No, in fact the opposite…she was chased away herself! I don't know how, or exactly why, but somehow Elle had managed that feat."

"Elle…huh? What…a beautiful name…" he said dreamily.

Jeanne stared at Marco, estranged.

A/N: Anyone who know has thoughts in their head about Elle and Marco, are half-right…The true (name)X(name) of the story is…

JeanneXMarco (one-sided)XOCXOC(completely head-over heels in love…guess who it is? 'Tis the coupling of Elle and Kye…this story shan't be over for a while, and yes, I do actually speak like this…- Please review or I won't do any more chapters and I shall delete this fic. Really I will, I know 'tis childish but I MUST GET REVIEWS!!!!

PS: ElleXKye 4ever!