Listen to Maid of Orleans by OMD

Francis opened the door slowly to reveal a space carved out in the rock underneath the city, the walls lined with stone and sparkling crystals. He lit a few candles in the corner and a lamp he carried with him. At the far end of the room there was something, an object that could just about be seen in the low light. Arthur strained his eyes to see what looked like a casket, and as Francis took him over to it, he could see that the sides of it were made of pure gold and decorated beautifully, and the top was made of clear glass. Dare he look and see who… or what lay in that casket? His heart beat fast in his chest as he turned to Francis, who was holding the lamp ahead of them.

"Francis…?" Arthur uttered as they approached. The Frenchman smiled in the dull golden glow of the room.

"I couldn't revive her, but see, she has not aged a day, nor has she decomposed, or faded away…" he uttered, his voice echoing all around them.

May 30th 1431..

Francis held the body of Jeanne in his arms, weeping woefully over her body. He really believed that she had died and he was completely heartbroken by it. All he could do was cry, desperate, hurt and angry tears for her death. He might not have been able to love her in the way she needed but he loved her like no other… and her death was a huge blow for France. The worst of it was that people would forget about her, and lump her with the rest of the women who were burned… but Francis didn't want that to happen. "They can't forget about you Jeanne… they can't… I won't let them." He sobbed as he took her body in his arms and carried her out of there. Waiting was his own horse and cart, which he used to transport the body from Rouen to Paris. He covered her up with a large shroud and took her away, so that no one knew what happened to her, or where she was. It would take him a few days to commission some sort of casket for her, but in the meantime he remembered the catacombs underneath the city, and decided that would be the best place for her. Then a priest from Notre Dame Cathedral realised who was in the cart, and he had a word with Francis about a secret room underneath Paris… and so that became her home.

"Monsieur Bonnefoy…" The Priest said as he took him to one side. "I am a man of some experience and I recognise the lady that you transport…" He uttered quietly. "I will help you…"

"You must tell no one of this…" Francis whispered. The Priest agreed and he kept to his word. He also helped move her down there and she lay on the floor of the room for a while till he was able to procure a beautiful casket for her. Even then he was surprised to see that no decomposition had taken place. It was like she was alive, but not breathing… like an immortal with no life…

Present day:

There in the casket lay the body of a young woman, dressed in white armour, her eyes permanently closed, but still as young and as beautiful as in her youth all those centuries ago.

"It's her…" Gasped Arthur and his legs gave way. He knelt beside the casket, completely overwhelmed by what he was seeing. "But… she is asleep?"

"She does not breathe, and she does not move… her heart beat does not exist…" Francis uttered. "She has been this way ever since you lit that flame… neither dead nor alive…"

"But kept forever in the minds and hearts of your people…" Arthur uttered emotionally. "It is a miracle Francis…"

"We celebrate her every year and remember her… and as long as we do …she will never fade away." He said softly. "I loved Jeanne…Arthur… I still do. But you must remember you didn't kill her… you turned her into an immortal saint… that's what you did."

Arthur didn't' say anything, he knelt there looking at the casket and reached forward to touch it gently, his hand trembling a little and for a while there was complete silence in the room.

"I once asked her…" Arthur finally spoke, his voice faltering as he did so. "Why she defied the law… and she didn't tell me… she never said a word…" he uttered "Why she still continued to dress as if she was a man, and still believe that she was spoken to by…by God… " he continued "Now I understand. For she is pure and innocent and divine… a miracle …F…Francis."

"There is no need anymore to feel guilty for her death Arthur…" Francis whispered as he knelt next to him. "I understand you have blamed yourself for so many years… and I haven't made it easy for you at all… but she is here and she is safe. Never will she be defiled by a man… forever La Pucelle…" He said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "Is it God, or something else that keeps her like this? I do not know for sure, but she remains in this state…for all eternity. And I hope that one day, if the people of France need her, that she will rise from her rest, and be Jeanne D'Arc again.

"She is yours Francis." Sniffed Arthur… "Like a beloved daughter, sleeping in your arms… in your heart right here in Paris…" Arthur cried softly. "Your child Joan of Arc… its that kind of love isn't it?"

"It is…" nodded Francis. "It really is…"

Arthur watched as Francis closed his eyes and bowed his head, as he knelt next to him, and tears fell upon his hands in his lap. He wrapped his arms around him and cried with him, equally affected by this, and seeing his love so upset and crying.

"I'm sorry…" was all he could say and repeat… echoing in the darkness…as one by one the candles went out…