strange clothes, strange words
a heartbeat in a new world
two
Jeanne made her way to the man, a finger placed on her lips before pushing him towards the bathroom in a harsh fashion. He gave her a glare, frown on chapped lips and eyes narrowed. "My parents will drown me in the tub if my brother sees you." She returned the stern look and it seemed as if he got the message. He entered the washroom without any further complaint and gently closed the door behind himself.
"Jeanne," the pounding persisted, "Jehanette, I am giving you ten seconds. One…two…three…"
Fixing herself, Jeanne made sure there was no trace of the man left behind, before she walked to the door, slowly opening it and meeting the face of her older brother. His brown hair was messy and tossed all over the place, he had a deep frown on his lips and his arms crossed over his chest.
"What's going on? I heard voices." He blinked in annoyance, squeezing the controller in his right hand. "Don't even think of making up excuses, you suck at lies."
Jeanne opened the door fully. "There's no one in my room," she spoke, "Though I was talking to someone."
"Who?"
"A man," she replied, "I was talking with a young man."
Her brother frowned. "Really? What's his name?"
"His name is Gawain. He came in through my closet."
Jean shut his eyes, taking a deep and leveled breath before he rubbed his temple. "Jehanette, not everyone has the same imagination as you do, and this isn't Narnia. Anyways, it's late so stop watching movies and go to sleep. And tell mister Gawain," her brother rolled his eyes at the name, "to go home."
"Sure will," she smiled, "goodnight!"
"Yeah, whatever; just try not to make so much noise."
Jeanne nodded promptly. "Oh," she called just as her brother turned around, "is papa home?"
Jean turned back, violet eyes blinking as he nodded. "Yeah, he arrived before the blackout."
"I'll bid my goodnight to him," she said as she closed the door behind herself and both the siblings descended the stairs. They parted at the second floor while Jean went to his room (presumably to continue playing video games) and Jeanne went to greet her father, who was having dinner before he and her mother went to bed.
"How is my brave little golden star?" Her father asked, a smile lighting his strong and tired face. He was an older man now, having five children to which one already had a family of his own. Mister d'Arc had thick dark brown hair that was wavy upon his head, blue eyes that glinted brightly with his light and cheery attitude. He had a few thin scars on his cheeks which he had attributed to childhood adventures. Mister d'Arc was a strong character, much like his daughter. He had a sturdy opinion but a gentle heart.
Jeanne smiled, giving her father a kiss on the cheek. "How was work, papa?" She asked, taking a few steps towards the fridge.
"No fair, I asked you first, sweetie," he laughed.
She pulled the fridge's door open, checking for anything that was quick to eat. "I am doing well, school was shut down due to weather conditions but I'm certain it will be open tomorrow."
"Oh, my sunflower," her father sighed from his place at the dinner table, "did you get stuck in the cold for too long? Did you freeze out there?"
She shook her head, "No, the only bus that took ages was the thirty-five, but it wasn't that cold when I was waiting." She pulled out some fruit and two cupcakes before placing them all in a bowl.
"Oh, that's good. Busses are very unreliable."
Jeanne looked back at her father, handing him a few grapes. "Did you remember to eat lunch today?" She asked.
Jacques laughed. "Oh, my little girl is growing up to be such a caring lady." He gave her a short hug from his place on his seat.
"Where are you going with those?" Isabel asked, "You know there's no food allowed in the bedrooms."
Jeanne stopped in her tracks, as she was taking a step towards the stairs. "But maman, just this once, please."
"Nu-uh young lady," her mother frowned.
Jeanne gave her best puppy eyes—never once used before—and looked between her mother and her father.
Jacques gave a frown. "Oh sweetheart, let my golden star have her snack upstairs just this once."
There was absolutely no doubt that Jeanne was her father's baby girl, even if Catherine was younger. She earned a billion nicknames from her father but 'golden star' seemed to be his favourite; his daughter was always shining bright, whether in school or other matters. Jeanne also loved to spend time with her father because he was always light and fun while her mother was the stricter figure but would act more like a teenager at other times.
"Jacques, you know very well that it's a house rule and even your baby girl must abide by it." Isabel crossed her arms over her chest, frown on her lips.
"Oh, do let her just this once, honey."
"No."
"Maman," Jeanne pleaded, "I will never ask you again, I promise."
"No."
Trshh!
The noise filled the house, it seemed to come from Jeanne's room and immediately everyone fell silent.
"What was that?" Isabel asked, brows furrowed as she looked up.
Jacques leaned towards the stairs, checking if the sound would repeat itself. "Did something fall?"
Jeanne's eyes grew, and she gave a nervous laugh. "I—I'll go check what that was." She said before running up the stairs. "Oh, goodnight papa, maman!" She called from the second floor and continued her way up the stairs to her bedroom. She opened the door, realizing she had brought the bowl amidst the rush of things and set it on her bed before she opened the bathroom door. There she saw the sight of the knight in the tub, wrapped in the shower curtain and curtain rod balancing over his head.
To her surprise, her siblings had not questioned the noise, or they were fast asleep.
She looked around, noting all her belongings scattered all over the place. Her shampoos, bath gels, hair products, lotions—everything was a mess; straightener, curler, everything. "What happened?" She gave him a look of bewilderment, a hand tangling in her hair.
"I…" his cheeks were lit red, "I cannot move."
She huffed, "You've made a mess, what happened? H-how?"
"This…this place? Where am I?"
"My bathroom. This is a bathroom. This here," she pointed, "is the sink, toilet and finally, the shower. Why did you wreck my bathroom?"
"In my defense, my lady, I was left unattended." He moved but stopped when his arm pained him.
She walked to him, helping him out of both the tub and curtain shower. He was heavy, and she assumed it also had to do with the armour weighing him down. "Now, please explain what happened."
"I wish to know where I am. This sorcery is beyond me! There are no candles and yet light emits from those round drops in the ceiling. There's no fire and yet the storm outside is clouded with the warmth inside this house. Furthermore, the outhouse is inside the sleeping chambers and…" He looked around, "How is such an illusion possible? I have never once encountered something so…"
They left the bathroom, also leaving the mess behind and went back into the bedroom. "This isn't some…witch's illusion or…sorcery. This is England."
"England?" He scoffed, "I know England very well and have travelled the very contours and expanses of the kingdom. I can assure you that you are mistaken, this is not England…This is..."
"England," she said, "it's England in the year 2018."
He stared at her and burst into laughter. Loud laughter. "You are a fine jester."
"Shhh! Keep quiet! I think I've already told you that my parents—I don't even know what they would do if they find out you're here." She covered his mouth, silencing his ridiculous laughter.
He stared at her, then it seemed to be sinking in that this wasn't his England. Moving her hand from his mouth as he spoke, "You…this is not a jest, is it?"
Jeanne shook her head. "I am sorry, Gawain—"
"Sir Gawain," he corrected.
She sighed, "Sir Gawain. But this…wherever you might come from, I don't know how you'll get back but honestly… I don't even know how you got here. You ran in through the closet and that's about all I know."
He watched her, analyzing her clothing and then the room around him. He noticed the plate of food. "Is that for me?" He asked, his stomach growling.
She nodded. "But one of the cupcakes is mine."
He filled his mouth with the fruit first, leaving the cupcake for last. "This…thank you. I wish to apologize for drawing my sword on you earlier. It was out of freight and it was an unreasonable action. I wish to say that my king so forbids raising a sword against any type of lady, even if she be a witch."
Jeanne frowned. "Well, I am no witch, I fully assure you of that."
"I could tell with a glance at the many icons you have. You seem very devout, lady Jehanette." He gave her a smile, before continuing to devour the food. "Though, if what you say is true…"
"I never lie," she frowned, "and for once I wish it was a lie. Do you…do you know how you got here?"
Gawain sighed, taking his first bite of the cupcake. His eyes lit up immediately. "What a heavenly taste. My lady, did you make this yourself? It is completely superb! I would have never imagined a delicacy so divine; truly a work of art."
Jeanne smiled. "I bought it, form the superstore. They aren't anything special. My mother makes better ones."
"Better ones? I cannot even imagine something more ethereal than this, but I am most intrigued."
Jeanne wanted to laugh. The knight, as manly as his attire told her him to be, he resembled a child on Christmas day, filling himself with sweets as his eyes were filled with wonder and excitement.
"Now, I assume you wish to speak of our…predicament. Well, it was the night of the twentieth day in the third month—"
"So, the twentieth of March?"
"If the third month is called March, then yes. I trudged through the deep and difficult snow of a long winter. There was horrid and frightful thunder as lighting struck. When the night settled back into the blizzard, I came upon a cabin, one I had never before seen. In fact, I had been through that spot—for I know very well the enormous birch tree they call Solitude surrounded by the Fence of Peace—and there had been no cabin, not even in the autumn or summer…it was never there before…or at least I had never seen it…" He looked at the closet, his brows furrowed in contemplation and he squinted. 'I…the lightning seemed to strike the spot where the house appeared, but I could not be certain for the blizzard was thick and harsh."
Jeanne too looked over at the closet. "And then?"
He looked back at her. "A warm fire is a bewitching thing in the middle of winter, my lady." His eyes darkened. "In it you see your deepest wishes and desires. It…enraptures you in its flaming arms and burns your reason."
Jeanne watched him, he looked troubled, slightly lost in some other thoughts. "What happened?"
His blue eyes settled once more, life returning to them. "My hand…" He looked at his left hand. "I went to open the door, my hand on the knob and lightening struck once more. Everything was clothed in an intense white light, one that pained me. That is all. I woke up here when I came to my senses."
