Longevity [France x Jeanne D'Arc]

It was raining.

Usually such an act would put a smile to his face. Well, not so much as a smile, rather than a feeling of comfort and joy. The pitter-patter of rain drumming along his head as the cool water dripped down the long strands of blonde hair was always an enjoyable event. He’d even stretch out his neck and open his mouth to wiggle his tongue out to collect droplets.

But today, there was no joy in this depressing weather. He just stood there, downtrodden in the mushy earth. Bad weather, despaired spirits and sinking ground. Maybe he’d be lucky and get swallowed by the earth and be with her again.

He did not know where they buried her. Where they dug a hole and lowered her in the ground. It wasn’t the real Jeanne. It was a wooden box. But she was inside. And then they covered her with dirt and left.

She was always the rebellious one. Lively at all times, always speeding ahead. He’d hardly have time to catch up, but she was kind enough to slow down. That was what he was most grateful for. In fact. She would always be there waiting for him, never leaving him in the dust. He was old, she was young, but that difference didn’t separate them. In fact, it made their bond stronger. She would wait, and he would follow. A process both never got too impatient to bear.

But recently their roles were reversed. He wasn’t sure how it happened, but more often than not he’d be the one waiting for her to catch up. She would never mind though. Just a smile, nod, and quick embrace. Then they’d continue on their way.

First it was her hair. Its once luxurious honey color faded over time, turning from the richest shade of blonde one such as himself could possibly imagine to just plain gray. But that never discouraged her. Nor did the wrinkles ever lessen the brightness of her smile. She would always be beautiful, no matter the gray hair, wrinkles or even slower movement.

And himself? He was the same as ever. This hurt him a bit, to be so unchanged while she seemed to buckle under the weight of the passing years as they stacked one by one.

He remembered all the times she fell, crashed, smashed, fought. She was always okay in the end, no matter the injury.

But then one day, it all changed. She fell down. She wouldn’t get up. No matter the pushes or urges for her to stand, she wouldn’t. Then they took her away. And left him all alone.

He soon figured out she wasn’t going to be fine like the other times. She wasn’t going to just shrug this away and call him to speed off into the horizon like usual. Or race against one another. No, never again.

Which meant that he would be forgotten.

He remembered when he first laid eyes on her. He didn’t know that she was Jeanne at the time, yet he felt a connection to this dazzling leader, that fought bitter wars like any man. Having never seen such a magnificent spectacle in all his living days, he knew immediately he must be with her.

The task wasn’t easy, however. There were others that wanted to be with her. Faster, stronger, wiser, and all around better than he. Even she didn’t want him at first. That crushed him more than anything, so much so that he was sure his heart would break in half. But he was not discouraged. He just did what he always did. He just kept on going.

Eventually, left abandoned time after time again, he found her. She was hurt, and needed help. So he did what he always did. He just kept on going. But this time, with her by his side. More specifically, his back.

Then, he was hers. That was the most joyous occasion of his life. He’d drink fine wines with her, go on walks with her, and on more than one occasion, spar with her. He was grateful for her to give him this opportunity. To be with her in the courtyard, fencing, was the best experience in his life.

Then returned the crashing news of him never being able to do it again with her.

All that was left of her was dug up dirt and square stone in the ground somewhere. He cried out to her in the dirt, and even tried to dig at it, to tunnel to her. But his hands never picked up enough earth to get to her. He knew it was foolish. He wasn’t getting her back, not now, not ever. They were separated. No goodbyes, pats on the head, or even warm smiles. Just... gone. He’d have to carry on, strong for appearances, so the others don’t take the chance to fight him.

He just remained on the spot, guarding. In the time they spent together he knew he’d never forget the brave woman that was strong enough to take him under her wing. What he was afraid of was being forgotten by her. Finally being left in the dust, with her never looking back.

But that fear was unneeded. For she always looked back. Always waiting. Now, for him, he needn't do the same. For there was no Jeanne to look back and wait for.

So, he turned around, and started walking. Never looking back. No use to wait for those that will never catch up, anyway.