Title: witch
Characters/Pairings: Jeanne D'Arc, Jeanne D'Arc Alter
A/N: Onto the second singularity! Just wanted to do a point comparison with this one.
Summary: Witch they called her. A moniker she would never lose. Maybe she should make it her own.
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"Witch," the priest whimpered, staring up at Jeanne in fear. He cowered, curling up into himself, his body trembling with every move she made.
Witch. Jeanne smirked. That old insult. She had heard it hundreds of times before she died, the crowd chanting it over and over as the fires licked her body. Their voices had echoed in the air, drowning out her pleas, her prayers. They had condemned her before she could utter a single word of defense.
Even now their voices echoed in her head.
"You know, you're right," Jeanne murmured. The priest's eyes widened, a horrified expression crossing his face as she raised her hand. Perhaps it was time she became a witch.
It was what they wanted, after all.
-x-
"Witch," a guard yelled, drawing his sword. Around him, the rest of his troop followed suit and while Jeanne could not see their expressions through their helmets, she could hear the terror in their voices. Their hands shook as they gripped their swords.
Jeanne frowned, her hands curling tightly around her flag. Witch. Even death did not change what they called her. What they felt toward her. They ignored her pleas, her requests to help, fighting her as they did the wyverns that scorched the land.
Whatever she said, the only response was witch. Whether France was saved or not, whether her actions were that of a saint or not, it seemed she was doomed to that moniker.
"I'm no witch," she said sadly, shifting her weight so she could run. They didn't seem to hear her but she could live with that.
Saving people was never about the reward, after all.