JEANNE D'ARC

‘ - I’ve known them to be, yes. Certainly not always, and there are some who would take no interest, but.’

He’s - not quite walking and not quite floating, but somehow his steps, easy strides though they are, keep easy pace with her horse. His eyes narrow ever so slightly in disapproval, wings flaring for a second behind his back. It doesn’t take an archangel to realize she’s asking for a reason.

‘Who was it?’

He’s to stay concealed for this mission, yes, but he isn’t above a few petty tricks to those who would cause discomfort to his charge. At least have them be taught a lesson.

Jeanne couldn’t help but smile then, a soft chuckle leaving her lips when the Archangel rose to her defense. Michael was kind, she thought, even when he didn’t seem to be, even when he was more ALOOF than anything. Then again, perhaps that was simply because she was his charge.

“You…what?”

It was a worst-case scenario, really. For someone to recognise their beloved Jeanne, for people to realise that she had survived, she wasn’t dead…it could ruin everything. She would be in danger.

“What makes you think so?”

Catherine swallowed, keeping her head on Samandriel’s shoulder to keep him from seeing the worry that had kept her stomach churning this whole time. She wanted to go back to her family, to at the very least spend a day with them again, but to do so would hurt Samandriel... and Catherine could never do that.

random ‘nons about Jeanne’s relationships         accepting!

     ❝He is a heathen, a traitor to this country. Would you defy the word & will of the King?❞

    Purity shines down upon Joan of Arc, but all good graces flee from the sinister Minister of Justice. He speaks as an automaton would, uncaring for the soul & life now snuffed out. The air chills his lungs though this weather suits him. He claps his hands together, a ’ BRAVO ’ for her rebellion.

    ❝Your words tread the fine line of treason. Would the Lord truly accept the undeserving? A sinner who has not found his place in the Kingdom of Heaven?❞

    ❝My LORD is my King,❞ She responded with hardly a moment spared between them. She should not question him, Jeanne knew, and yet how could she not? Heathen or not, sinner or not, he deserved a grave, Jeanne knew that too. ❝I know that it is not His word nor His WILL to have y o u decide who He allows into His Kingdom.❞

“Of course, Jeanne. I promise, I will be there to welcome you, and I will stay as long as you want me to.” His superiors may disagree with that, but frankly? He didn’t care. The least that they could do was offer her their time.

The angel reached out and gently brushed his hand against the girl’s cheek, giving her a soft smile. “What do you think you will see there?”

Jeanne nodded when he promised. Samandriel promised to be there for her,  if nothing else she would have Samandriel there, even for a few minutes. She was anxiously searching for anything to look forward to to make her strong in these last few hours, in the last few minutes. 

She leaned her head into his hand, dark eyes flickering between his while she thought. He was a comfort, he was her only comfort anymore, and Jeanne wanted little more than to cling to him for as long as he would allow her to.