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 -) - Stay tuned, meh friends! Or..flamers! DIE FLAMERS! Sankyuu for reading and keeping with this outnumbered, disliked, lonely little fic of mine…
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?
Disclaimer: I do not own SK, if I did, it would be ruined, because I am not gifted like Takei-sama.
Chapter Fifteen: "You Cannot Break A Blood Bond."
Jeanne sat in silence, pulling into the austere driveway of the institution with a troubled sigh.
"A price for judgement?" she questioned herself. "Yes, Marco. Judgement Day will come, and you will no longer be a member of the X-Laws or my heart….."
The pain of love lost rung back and forth in her brain until she could take it no more. She knew the only way to solve it: to tell the truth.
"St. Perpetue of Sicily…preferred to have herself torn apart than to tell a lie…" Jeanne cast her eyes down in disgrace. "I would rather be torn apart than to tell the truth…."
And so the silver haired young woman, this angel, this saint, walked through the glass doors briskly, questioning her own faith….the thing that had sustained her for so long..
Passing the information desk, her crimson eyes, so like yet different from her dear eldest sisters', held the look of an innocent lion caged within the body of a woman. O daughters of chimeras….!
"Will you ever come back, fair prince Joseph?" drawled an incoherent, small, dark woman in a white shift lunging at her with passion.
'Are these the poor souls of which Elle is among them…?' she asked herself sadly.
Jeanne looked at her with the despair of an otherworldly saint. Yes, Jeanne was the saint, and Elle was the seraph. The sepulcher may have its enchantments…
But as would, the charming grave….
She reached Elle's room with a pang of dread in her pure heart.
Jeanne closed her eyes, fearing the worst and fearing the best as well….paradoxes seem confusing, but as they are in the eye of the beholder, they could make perfect sense to a jester and none to a sage.
The young woman was frightened by the unfamiliar sight of the poetess laying motionless on her bed, staring at the ceiling intently and pensively….turning it inside out in her mind. Her blankets were not covering her, she enjoyed the feeling of air caressing her skin, but were pushed to the side and her poetry book sat open on the floor.
Jeanne crept silently behind her sister, wondering if the eighth wonder of the world resided on that simple canvas and only Elle could view it….how strange her sister could be.
"Hello Jeanne." she said dreamily, getting up and ruffling her hair. Her skin was whiter than anything Jeanne had glimpsed in her life, her sister, was pale, weak, almost sickly looking.
Damned capitivity. Damned Marco. Damned everything….damn the whole world, it's all full of poison anyway.
"Oh…" she gasped slightly, finally regaining her attentions. "Hello Elle….elder sister. How are you doing?"
The young lady's eyes flashed like an imp's and she smiled grimly, "Oh, fine, thank you. That is, if you enjoy the splendour of antiseptic walls and not being able to see straight…" pausing, as if looking for a word, she sighed. "Add that to being wonderfully doped with anesthetics, anti-depressants, stimulants, and hallucinogenics all the while and I believe we might have a five-star vacation on our hands, don't we sister?"
Something was wrong with her. Her voice was weak, and she looked tired and peaky. The fatigue of imprisonment laid dormant but deadly in her gentle, free eyes.
The nun took a step back, looking at her sister as someone else might see her. Elle had, in the past few minutes, fell asleep in the past few minutes from the medications, and lay motionless on the bed, her breathing light and regular.
Jeanne remained looking at her in someone else's point of view…
Her hair spread out on the pillow in ruffles and ringlets, her long eyelashes, gold-brown like her hair, lay upon her cheek. Her body was graciously endowed with womanly curves in all the right places, and the white shift of the hospital had done nothing to conceal her body, hinting at the right places and showing others.
And yet…Jeanne could not help but think, no matter what she did, or how she was dressed, or what happened to her, Elle would never be vulgar, never be displeasing, never be old….
Elle would never be old because Jeanne would not let her become old. She was not meant to become old, and Elle knew it as well. She was going to die. She was going to die young and free and return back to the trees and mother earth who were her true kin and family.
How was Jeanne going to die? She would never know. Yes, like Elle she would always retain her heavenly beauty, but when and where she would die, and knowing she would never know when or where or why, frightened her. It penetrated the fair maiden to the bone.
Her weakness.
Her sister, so frail like a rose pelted by rain, stirred.
"Jeanne….I'm tired." Elle said weakly, not even lifting her head to speak.
She smiled gently, sensing the deterioration…but even Jeanne herself did not know how far it went…how dangerous it was….and how it would strike her like a snake.
"I know you are."
The room fell into an inexorable silence, the younger sister waiting in affectionate apprehension for the words of her sister.
"You know, no one can ever break our bond, sister."
"Our blood bond. Nobody can break up sisters, Elle."
"Of course, I've always known that. Je-Ne-Dieu, remember? I have always said, "I –Deny-God. Always…and you know what? I believe it's true…."
Jeanne felt herself close to tears. No, please no….
Don't take her away from me now….not my sister….I have so many memories waiting….she has so many things to do….please God of all Gods, don't take my sister Elle away.
"I deny God as well, now. He can't break our blood bond. We're sisters." she said, her crimson eyes brimming with tears.
Elle gave her a fading smile. "Jeanne?" she asked with an uncertain air. "Do you think you could sit down on my bed while I go to sleep…? I would like to speak to you, as sisters now…."
"Of course…." she looked at her with the same affection. "We've never spoken…as sisters…."
And just then, Jeanne knew what was going to happen.
"Don't break the bond now." she prayed frantically under her breath.
A/N: Be prepared for some twists and tearjerkers….00 The next chapter is sad….But don't worry! Because the ending-okay—it's just as confusing and sad and twisted as the rest of the story.
If I'm correct, I think this story has about three or four more chapters to go….
Ja Ne! (until I update next! ;)