I don't own Hetalia ©
A long haired Frenchman named Francis Bonnefoy also known as the nation of France, stared at a peasant girl. Francis looked curiously at her. It seemed that her finest clothes were very tattered and torn. Obvious hand-stitches were made to piece together the raggedy clothes. Though the thing that caught Francis's eye was her beautiful face.
Her eyes were the color of royal blue and her pale complexion complimented it. Her golden locks were tied into a bun, but Francis loved the way it shined as he saw the right amount of sun rays hitting it. Though his train of thought was soon interrupted as she began to speak to his king.
"King Charles VII of France." She began, "I am a poor girl; I do not know how to ride or fight."
Francis's eyes widened. Her voice sounded so serene. His heart began to beat faster every second as he heard each word coming out of her mouth. Though his thoughts were again interrupted when King Charles gave him a glance, asking the nation what he should do. Francis nodded at the man, who nodded in return.
"What is your name child."
"I am Jeanne d'Arc." She replied boldly.
"I shall...see if I need your help Jeanne d'Arc." King Charles exclaimed, "For now you may go."
Jeanne nodded and scurried out of the throne room. Francis was so tempted to go after her and start a conversation, but he knows that he is needed by his King. Though hours passed and soon enough his King had to attend business else where, leaving the nation to have time for himself.
Francis was excited as he existed the castle. He roamed the streets looking for the peasant girl called Jeanne d'Arc. Though after endless hours of searching, Francis gave up. He sat under a tree and sighed in a melancholy manner wishing to meet the unique maiden.
"Monsieur? You seem upset. What is troubling you?"
Francis's eyes widened in realization. That voice he loved even though he heard it for mere minutes. He can recognize it immediately. Francis's head jerked up and saw the peasant girl looking down at him with the most cutest curious look.
"Ah.. Bonjour. You must be Jeanne d'Arc." Francis replied.
Jeanne raised a brow, "Yes. I am she. How did you know?"
Francis chuckled, "I was that man standing next to the king."
"Oh!" She exclaimed, "You must be that nation, who must hang around the king!"
The said man smiled and took Jeanne's hand. He brought it to his lips and gently kissed her dainty hand, "Oui."
Jeanne pulled back and smiled. She sat next to her country and soon the two began to talk. Francis laughed as she told stories of her home and Jeanne would giggle at Francis as he told stories of his other nation friends. Though soon their fun conversation died out. The two sat in silence under the tree not knowing what else to talk about.
Francis curiously looked at Jeanne and asked, "Manquer...What on God's earth gave you the idea to fight in this terriible war? »
Jeanne smiled, "You might think it's insane, Francis."
"Now Jeanne." Francis smiled back, "I have seen other worldly things that can be classified as insane in this nation of mine."
The young maiden took a deep breath and said, "I have never told anyone this. I haven't even told the confessors during confession at the church."
"You should let it out, Jeanne." Francis exclaimed, "Or else it will build inside you and such! It seems unhealthy."
Jeanne giggled and relaxed, "I suppose you are right...Well..I have been hearing voices."
"Voices?" Francis mumbled.
"Oui. But not strange unknown voices. I have heard messages from the saints!"
"Oh?"
Jeanne grinned, "St. Michael, St. Catherine, and St. Margaret. At first they were general personal messages, but...As I grew older they became more urgent and suddenly they have been telling me to go visit the King of France and tell him about God's message of taking back French lands."
Francis's eyes grew wide at the secrets the young maiden has been telling him, "R-Really? That seems so unreal, Jeanne."
She nodded, "I know...Though I listened to them, because this is God's work."
The long haired man chuckled, "You must always do God's bidding."
Jeanne could only nod in response.
"Please King! Give her a chance!" Francis exclaimed with a hint of anger in his voice.
Weeks passed and Jeanne would continuously visit the castle everyday, trying to get King Charles to agree in her leading an army, but the same answer from the king was I will think about it. Every time Jeanne would ask, Francis would pray to God, hoping the King would agree, but it never came.
"In what ways would that benefit this country, Francis?" The King shot back.
The Frenchman glared at King Charles. He bit his lip and replied, "We are desperate right now my lord. Right now we are losing more and more of my body to those English."
The nation saw as his ruler began to grow tense, "I suppose I can reconsider it...Bring Jeanne to me at once and I'll see what I can do."
Francis smiled with determination and ran off. He got outside and found his trusty steed. He got upon the white horse and dashed off to the market where he knew that his Jeanne was there. Mingling among the townsfolk.
Within minutes Francis spotted the young girl in the middle of the city. He mounted off his horse and ran straight to Jeanne. The nation hugged the maiden and laughed as he heard a shriek coming from her.
"F-FRANCIS?"
"Oui!" The man exclaimed, "The king has consider giving you a chance to fight, Jeanne!"
Jeanne's eyes widened. She rejoiced and asked, "Do you mean it Francis?"
The French nation smiled lovingly at the girl and got a hold of her hands. He brought it near him and pulled Jeanne close, "I would never lie to you, Jeanne."
"Oh Francis!" She exclaimed and embraced the nation.
Francis released himself and grinned, "Come on! Get on my horse and we shall ride back to the castle."
The two French got back on the white steed and with two whips from Francis the horse began to gallop all the way back to the palace. Francis jumped off and helped Jeanne off the horse. The nation smiled as he got some of her scent. Reminded him of roses.
Suddenly he saw Jeanne dash off to the royal throne room. Francis chuckled and ran after the girl. The nation sighed happily and presented Jeanne to his King formally. King Charles glared harshly at Francis and then right at Jeanne. There was a tension of silence in the air. Francis began to feel a bit sweaty when no one was saying anything.
"I shall give you a small army." King Charles said.
"YES!" Francis cheered, but he immediately shut up after he got stern looks from both Jeanne and the King.
"...But." The King said, "I want you to go to Poitiers. You shall be questioned there by a commission of theologians."
The French nation bit his lip and was about to speak out of turn, but Jeanne interrupted him. The young maiden smiled and said, "Of course, my King."
When King Charles was done speaking to Jeanne, both she and Francis walked out together. Francis watched as she began to walk back to the city. The nation followed her and began to speak to the girl.
"Why would you agree to do that, Jeanne?" Francis exclaimed clearly sounding upset.
Jeanne grinned, "Do not understand, Francis? I'm one step closer in fulfilling my destiny!"
The long haired nation smiled, "I guess so. At least let me accompany you to Poitiers."
"That would lovely, Francis." She said with a modest smile, "It would be nice to have company."
Francis gently took Jeanne's hand and kissed it lovingly. Jeanne pulled back immediately though and walked off, before Francis could even get a look at her reaction. The French nation sighed longingly and walked to his horse. He would have to pick up the girl by sunset.
As promised Francis took Jeanne to Poitiers and after long exhausting weeks the theologians exclaimed that the learned ecclesiastics pronounced Jeanne to be honest, good, and virtuous. Francis secretly cheered inside his head as he heard that the theologians counseled the King to make prudent use of Jeanne's services.
Before the nation knew it, the nation found out that his young maiden has already required a small army. Poor Francis didn't even bid the girl a farewell before she could even go off in her first battle. During the awfully long period that Jeanne was gone, Francis would sit under the tree that he had his first conversation with Jeanne. The young nation sighed wishing to have Jeanne next to him.
"Monsieur? You seem upset. What is troubling you?"
Francis jerked his head up and saw Jeanne smiling down at him. The French country chuckled at the deja vu moment he had with her and motioned the girl to sit next to him. Jeanne gladly did so and rested her head against the tree bark.
"How was your battle?" Francis asked curiously.
"It took my breath away." She said dreamily, "They call me 'La Pucelle, the maid, clad in dazzling, white armor.' Sounds wonderful no?
The nation smiled at her, "Oui."
Francis then saw Jeanne's face turn sad, "Though the voices of the saints tell me I won't live long if I continue on."
"Wh-What?"
"I know..." She mumbled, "But if God wants me to do this. I shall."
The Frenchman quickly stood up and exclaimed, "Jeanne I demand you to quit this instant!"
Jeanne looked at Francis with a confused look, "What do you mean by that?"
"I don't want you to die!"
"Oh Francis..." She whispered, "I must...I worked so hard and gone so far. I must stick with this until the end."
Jeanne stood up and looked at Francis with a bittersweet smile. As they stayed like this, Francis noticed how determined she looked. More determined when he first saw her. He noticed how her golden hair was now cut like a man's and her pale face was now tainted with bruises of war.
"Jeanne..."
The young girl kept that smile upon her face, "I have more battles, Francis. I need to get more soldiers and more barrels of food and such...That's why I returned here. Just to restock and plus to see you again."
The blonde man bit his lip and took a hold of Jeanne's hand, "Marry me, Jeanne d'Arc. You would make me the happiest man alive."
Jeanne stared awestruck at the sudden proposal. Francis began to grow nervous as he just watched the girl staring back at him with a surprised look. Jeanne shook her head and pulled back. Francis was heartbroken. The man knew that they had a beautiful connection and he knew that she knew it too.
"I can't..." She whispered, "I made a promise to someone"
"A promise?" Francis whispered back his voice cracking releasing a tone of sadness, "Why..? To who?"
The young blonde girl looked away and replied, "To God."
Francis forced a smile, "You are God's woman, no?"
"Oui..." She murmured.
Francis sat back down under the tree and laid back. He then heard metal rustling and so he turned his head. Jeanne smiled and placed her hand over Francis's. She said to him in a slight whisper, "Let me at least spend my last hours here with you under the tree."
"I would love that, Jeanne."
Soon hours passed and the two stayed like this. Francis drifted off to sleep a while, but when he opened his eyes he found Jeanne not beside him. The things that he did find were her red cloak that was tied to her armor and a single red rose.
He slowly and gently picked up the thorny flower and ignored the small little pains that he received as the thorns pierced his skin. He knew the meaning of the red rose. Love. Even though she turned down his proposal, he was thankful that the girl was kind enough to let him know that she loves him as well.
"SALAUD!" Francis shouted and grabbed Arthur by the collar, "WHERE IS SHE? WHERE IS JEANNE D'ARC?"
"B-Bloody frog..." Arthur spat out, "Go out by the courtyard. I don't get why you want her. She's a bloody witch."
"How did you get a hold of Jeanne, anyway?" Francis asked dangerously.
Arthur smirked and replied, "Burgundians kidnapped her and sold her to me."
The French nation growled and pushed Arthur away and ran outside to the courtyard. As he grew near he saw crowds of people surrounding a platform and beside that platform was a stake and the person tied to the stake was his Jeanne d'Arc.
Francis made his way toward the front and saw guards. He couldn't do anything now. The nation shouted out his beloved's name and was glad that she heard him. Jeanne looked directly at Francis and smiled. She smiled and mouth the words in French, "Je vais bientôt être avec Dieu."
"No..." He said, "NOOOO!"
Many other mortals shouted cruel things to Jeanne. Francis cried as the man on the platform read out loud the crimes his young maiden has committed. Francis watched as Jeanne talked to a Dominican friar. The Dominican nodded and held a cross before her eyes. Francis was unfortunately all the way at the front.
The blonde nation cried harder as he saw a man throwing a torch at the stake. As his beloved Jeanne was burning, she smiled at her country before her. As the flames grew higher and higher, she shouted out the name of Jesus.
"JEANNE!" Francis shouted out with horror in his voice.
Within mere minutes the flames died out and the maiden's young body was now reduced to ashes. The crowds were already gone, but two men stayed by the burnt stake. Francis and John Tressart, one of King Henry's secretaries.
"We are lost. We have burned a saint." He exclaimed remorsefully.
John Tressart then left the nation to himself. He stared blankly at the stake and at Jeanne's ashes. Francis unconsciously grabbed a jar nearby and swiped Jeanne's ashes into the jar. The nation walked to Seine and stared at the water.
"Notre Père dans le ciel, ton nom soit sanctifié..." He began, "Que ton règne vienne, ta volonté soit faite, sur la terre comme au ciel... "
Francis began to open the jar and continue his prayer, "Donne-nous aujourd'hui notre pain quotidien, Pardonne-nous nos dettes, comme nous aussi avons remis à nos débiteurs."
The blonde man then released Jeanne's ashes into Seine. He watched as the waters carried her ashes away from him.
"Et ne nous soumets pas à la tentation,
mais délivre-nous du mal. "
Francis felt salty liquid running down his cheeks as he finsihed his prayer.
"Je ne vais pas connaître l'amour plus jamais..." Francis whispered, "I hope you take good care of her God."
Monsieur= Sir
Manquer= Miss
Oui= yes
Salaud= Bastard
She smiled and mouthed the words in French, "Je vais bientôt être avec Dieu." = I will soon be with God
When France was throwing her ashes France was saying the prayer 'Our Father' in French
and the last sentence he says in french is= I will know longer know love again.
Remember that the italic phrases are quotes that those people actually said
A/N: This one made me feel really guilty for writing this. IM SORRY FRANCE FOR WRITING ABOUT YOUR BELOVED JEANNE D'ARC! The next one I'm still deciding. Its either America or China :\ You can guess who those two are paired up with cause its very obvious