Burning Lilies Chapter 10Joan felt the cold stares pierce her back of the English men and women who have attended her court hearing. England sat in his large chair, staring down at her. He needed not to smirk, his eyes already said it. Joan sat down on the cold wooden chair, looking attentively at the Brit.
"Ms. Joan, is there anything you will like to say before I state my verdict?"
"But we didn't even have a trial! How can you pass a verdict without any evidence?"
"I have all the evidence I need. Don't play dumb. Didn't you say yourself that you were some type of prophet? Lies, I tell you. Making people believe in false hope. Isn't that one of the many sins of our world? Lies. Holy, they say? Ha, I think your spectators are only seeing a mere actress perform, but her act was too long. It's time to close the curtains. Anything you will like to say, Joan of Arc?"
Joan bowed her head and thought about his words. So much she can say if she was the sometimes hot-headed Francis, but she was just the farm girl Joan
Burning Lilies Chaper 1It all started with a girl.Burning Lilies Chaper 15 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
A girl, yes, and such a simple girl indeed. Her hair was a tangle of dirty blond and the fallen fur of various farm animals. She came all the way from the countryside, and it was so far. It was evident that she walked the whole way, since her shoes, if you dare call them shoes, were worn down and her large toe was peeking out from the right boot. She was waiting in a great room, requesting to talk with a man who wanted nothing to do with anything but himself.
A servant asked the girl to wait a moment and he scurried up an elaborately decorated set of stairs. He reached a room where a man sat in a detailed, fashioned armchair. The servant stuttered as he talked to his superior.
"Mo-Monsieur Bon-Bonnefoy. A g-g-girl is here to sp-sp-speak with you."
The man took a sip of the wine he had placed on the grand nightstand just moments before.
"Is she a beauty?"
The servant had a puzzled look, "Why do you ask, Monsieur?"
"I only talk to beautiful roses, like me, no?
Burning Lilies Chapter 2"Joan, you say?" said the pompous Bonnefoy. "You know, I am having a great deal of trying to believe you, but you are a simple peasant. Do you have proof that what you say is true?"Burning Lilies Chapter 25 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Again, he had gotten close to her, but this time she had no place to escape. Still, she looked him straight in the eye, not afraid of his larger demeanor. Francis, though as suave as he was with women of all ages, was astonished at her innocent beauty. What was that smell? Was it...flowers? More like...lilies...
She began to speak. "Monsieur Bonnefoy, the only proof I have is my faith in God. If you do not believe me, you can march right up to Italy and and talk to Holy Maria Herself!"
Francis never had someone speak to him in such a tone. Instead of dragging her by the hair out of his room, he was strangely attracted to her assertiveness, especially for being a woman. Still, he did not believe her story.
"Away with you. I have come to the conclusion that you are just a simple peasant trying to rise in rank
Burning Lilies Chapter 4Francis looked as if he saw a ghost. A woman...in war? Not just a woman, but a young girl at that? His mind was looking for all of the different ways to kindly say "no way" when she interrupted his thought flow.Burning Lilies Chapter 45 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"It wasn't a question. I'm going to fight no matter what you tell me."
Even more stunned, Francis had no choice but to submit to her power. He finally knew one thing about the mysterious Joan: when she had her mind set, there was no way of dissuading her. He stood, kissed her hand, and started to make his leave, when Joan said,
"Don't you need an army?"
"I already have men back home, Joan."
"But they will require a fee, when my people are willing to aid you in any which way for free."
France wondered. Why is she going to such lengths to help me? Why such concern? As if she read his mind, Joan answered,
"I love France, but I do not love you, Francis."
Francis stepped back a little in the shock of it. Love France but not love Francis? Had could that make sense? Wasn't he both Fra
Burning Lilies Chapter 6So much blood was on the once green fields of that pasture. It was pouring, and a blur of blue and red from the uniforms of the soldiers was spread across the battlefield. Joan was still on her horse, slashing away at British soldiers trying to hit her. She stopped, and for that moment, their was silence. She blocked out the sound of screams of hate and death, the hooves of crazed horses running across, and looked up into the dark sky. All she thought about was Francis, and how she left in such a great hurry. Arthur had come earlier than expected, and she needed to prepare the troops quick. She silently said sorry to Francis, even though he was not present, and put back on her helmet to continued the battle.Burning Lilies Chapter 65 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
As she fought, she said a prayer for every single person who was injured under her sword. She could not bring herself to kill, and she felt terrible just to simply stun the red-jacketed men. However, there was one man who she wanted to meet. Arthur Kirkland was somewhere
Burning Lilies Chapter 8Joan went into her loft. The large window was facing the front of her bed. Oh, how large this window is, thought Joan. The window was three feet wide, and reached all the way up to the ceiling. She left the window open, letting the cool breeze of the night sky seep in. It was as if the wind was caressing her hair, stroking it's ghostly fingers through her curls. Her locks shined in the moonlight. A full moon was in the middle of the sky. There was not a single star in sight. It was like the stars were letting the moon have the spotlight, so they left backstage and let the moon shine tonight. She went to her bed, and like every night before she went to bed, she said a prayer. A very simple prayer, like any other night. She crawled into bed, and stayed awake for awhile thinking about all those feelings. Light feelings of extreme happiness. Joan was in love for the very first time of her life, and she knew the man she loved had love for her to return. She fell asleep, thinking about theseBurning Lilies Chapter 85 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Burning Lilies Chapter 3Francis tried to come closer, but the weight of guilt and inferiority was too much on his knees, and he fell hard to the ground. There, the strongest country in the world, was on his knees, almost at tears, at the doorstep of a peasant. As he silently sobbed, she stood there, watching his tears dampen the ground beneath him. She leaned her broom against the outside wall of her shack and asked with a thundering voice,Burning Lilies Chapter 35 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"What do you want of me, Monsieur Bonnefoy?"
Francis suddenly looked up, surprised that she spoke. Tears were still streaming down his eyes. Even though she had such a voice, there was still a hint of tenderness.
"I...was...wrong. I never should have doubted you. You must see this, and see what you make of it."
He finally stood up, but there was definitely something different about him. He didn't have that cold exterior. It seemed he did want help. Francis went up to Joan, but not to close, and handed her a piece of paper embroidered in red, blue, and white.
Burning Lilies Chapter 7The sun was high above the sky. Joan was sleeping upon her horse when a soldier cried, "Mademoiselle Joan! Look! It's Paris! We're home!"Burning Lilies Chapter 75 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Joan, dazed, saw the grand buildings of the city and thought 'Finally, we have arrived.' She started a trot and led the handful of soldiers that survived the battle to the city. Joan was in a great hurry. She was waiting to see his face. That fuzz on his chin, those bright blue eyes, the way his hair was wavy, but never curly. She wanted to see him so bad. Joan has been through enough, this was her just award.
They entered the city boundaries, and was welcomed by the sounds of cheers, music, and flowers thrown in every which direction. She saw the cheerful faces of not only nobles and upperclassmen, but also the villagers of small towns far and near. She stepped off the steed, and hugged every person she came across. Not only was this a joyous celebration, but Joan had the lingering burden of explaining the families of lost ones what had happened. Af
Burning Lilies Chapter 5Joan had no clue what Francis was doing. They were walking through many hallways and through many doorways. The castle was vast, as if it was city within itself. In the back of her mind, she thought, but just for a brief second, what is the real motive of this seemingly long journey through the castle. Did he want to...with her...she shook off the thought. Joan now trusted this man, and she dare call him a friend. He wouldn't do something like that. Something had changed him in those past weeks, but what, she could not figure out.Burning Lilies Chapter 55 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
They finally reached a greatly ordained door. It was huge, going all the way to the ceiling. The crack under the door shone a great light, and conversations were going on inside. Francis opened the door just a crack and stuck his head inside. Why was he so secretive about this, wondered Joan. His head finally came out and he smiled at Joan. It was neither a smirk nor a smile of lust. It was a genuine smile indeed. Francis stepped to his side and said "Ladies
SpainxPhili - Enough is Enough"No! I... I had enough...!"SpainxPhili - Enough is Enough4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He couldn't bear to see her like this... To see the young girl he raised with all his heart... To see the girl he loved as much as he loved Romano... To see her bleeding with her blood pouring and flowing down to the ground... to her motherland... It was all too much for the Spaniard to bear.
Her eyes were glaring at him with determination and hatred, her bolo stuck to the ground as she used it for support to stand. The Spaniard could see that for every movement she did, more wounds reopened... wounds that were already there beforehand... wounds that he inflicted upon her...
He knew that he was the reason why she was suffering so much... but why...?
Why did she hate him so much?
How did she grow to hate him like this?
When did her annoyance become hatred?
Why...? How come he never realized this...?
"Why, Filipinas...? Why do you hate me so much?!"
"Isn't it... obvious...?" She spat. "You took my land... Claimed it as your own..." S
Burning Lilies: Chapter 14Gilbert and Antonio came rushing into the grand doors of Francis's castle.Burning Lilies: Chapter 144 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Hey, you, shortie. Where's Franny?"
"Ah, a Mr. Bonnefoy, senor."
"Ah, it seems Monsieur Bonnefoy is...busy."
"Busy? What can that guy be doing at a time like his? I mean, he should at least be-"
Two delicate hands pushed the two men away. Maria came in between them, still in perfect condition considering the storm outside. The servant bowed quickly.
"Ah, Madame Madonna, I am so sorry for my insolence, I-"
"Hush, sweet brother. If his own best friends cannot see him at this moment, may I? They will accompany me, of course."
"Ah...yes, I suppose."
Maria was walking up the spiral stairs, Spain and Prussia right behind. A small voice was heard.
"I warn you, Madame Madonna, you will not be pleased with what you will see up there."
"No worries, I trust my Francis."
She made her way up the stairs, the two young men following behind.
They reached the Frenchman's room. There was no sounds from t
There Was A GirlThere was a girl, maybe 3 or 4 years oldThere Was A Girl4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
And she didn't understand how real this world was.
This girl lived life happily, until one day.
One day, her daddy left her
And her sister.
And her mommy.
She watched him turn his back.
And all she heard from him was
"I give up. I can't handle you crazies anymore."
Her mommy cried.
Her family cried.
Heck, that little girl cried too.
But not because he left, no.
Because she thought it was her fault.
She thought she hurt everybody.
Was it because she didn't like her daddy?
Is that why everyone was sad?
She lived life like that for awhile.
Thinking she caused pain for others.
She was quiet, scared to talk, scared to stand up for herself.
Her daddy always told her that she was better off with him in her life.
Always telling her that her mother
Who worked from 9 to 5 and came home to cook the dinner
Wasn't doing a good job.
She hated herself as a mother.
She thought she wasn't a good daughter.
A good sister.
A good friend.
Then, she realized
BombsIBombs4 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Running through my veins,
Like marathons, it rolls
Down my spine
Up again along that line
Heading towards the crook of my neck
I got to make sure
That I'm all set and checked
Like the bomb I am.
Because this heart
Is just too big
And this soul
Is too large
For this small,
Body to take.
Take them down
Take them all down
Because this world spins too fast
And I can't make it last.
It's too loud for you guys to take
The ringing in your ear might make it break.
It's just fascinating!
Thousands of pieces fly
Making their places in the earth, wind, waters, and sky.
My words are that powerful
I will reach you with my lines
I don't need any other sign
Before I blaze
Ten years old
Nine years to come
Eight years gone
Seven years lost
Six years remembered
Five years forget
Four years gone
Three years my return.
Two years done.
There is always one more year to go.
Jeanne d'arcAt nineteen-years-old, she was already his world. The only sun to be seen in those darkened times was the sun reflected in her gaze. The only warmth was the warmth found in her embrace, as she embraced all of France. France, in turn, would embrace her.Jeanne d'arc4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The rose petals fell to the ground, becoming singed with the heat of the orange embers. The blonde fell to his knees, watching as the woman he loved opened her mouth to scream, yet no ethereal sounds escaped them, hands and limbs thrashing as much as the bounds allowed.
Arthur stood silently, watching as his chaos unfolded, a small curl of his lips decorating his face, fingers furling and then unfurling as the flames continued to lick the female form. His eyes lowered to the French man shook beside his feat, too proud to give way to the tears threatening in his gaze.
Hands wrapped around Francis' shoulders as he was tugged up, Arthur meeting his gaze. His own gaze flared with hatred, a frown marring the usually perfect fea
Why Can We Be Friends?China's hand flew straight up.Why Can We Be Friends?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Ah! Yes! What's your idea, Yao?"
"Yes! America, aru! I was thinking that maybe we can have a dumpling sale to support the troops!"
England interrupts, with, as always, a face of great dissatisfaction.
"A dumpling sale, Yao? Are you serious? Please, I don't think selling fried dough and vegetables will ever support all those troops-"
"Well, I thought it was a great idea, da?"
A great chill grew in the room. All the countries turned to see the menacing country of Russia smile at his seat. China had felt something unsettling crawl up his back.
"You know, aru, it wasn't such a great idea, so there's no need to agree Ivan, aru..."
"But it was indeed an excellent idea, Yao."
The tension growing, England stood, looked at an imaginary watch on his wrist, and said,
"Well, would you look at the bloody time, my tea is about to spill over, got to start heading home!"
"Yeah! I need to watch this documentary about...about....aliens! Yeah, that's it, aliens..."
France - May 30France didn't think about the date. He did his best to forget the date. It wasn't a conscious effort, since that would have made such a feat impossible. Now and then his thoughts would stray and he would sense he was forgetting. Then he would remind himself that was probably exactly what he was trying to do and find some other task to occupy himself with.France - May 305 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He was very good at this. If he thought about it (which he didn't--because that would defeat the purpose) he would notice it was often around certain dates, and always on one in particular. There was no mark on the calendar, no note. France didn't keep a regular calendar, much to the annoyance of his coworkers and the other Nations.
Oh well. Wasn't that what a good assistant was for? After all, France paid good money for a competent, discreet assistant. They kept track of such days for him and maneuvered his schedu
Burning Lilies Chapter 9The room was cold. Joan's hands weren't free, but she can feel on the tips of her fingers the hard, slimy stone of the dungeon. She had no clue where she was nor had any idea why she was here. Joan was slightly bruised, wincing as she fidgeted in her shackles. They had put her in a scraggly looking dress bearing patches and tear-stains. Yet, she herself did not cry. Joan was not to give into these kidnappers' terror, and if she did, she would have lost. Finally, a bright light shone. It was the large heavy door of the prison opening to reveal a man in a large overcoat of burgundy and purple. He bore a scruffy beard, but he was bald, and he had a menacing look on his face. He stood there, smirking with his arms crossed and staring down at the unwavering woman.Burning Lilies Chapter 95 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Who are you, monsieur?"
"Burgundy. The Kingdom of Burgundy. I'm surprised that my men didn't go as far as to cut off your arm or something. A couple of bruises is nothing compared to what they have done to previous victims. I'm h
Burning Lilies Chapter 11Joan was barefoot. The sunset was indeed beautiful, probably the most beautiful she has ever seen it. However, it was hard to enjoy with the strong hands of British guards grasping her arms and the shouts of rioting English men and women. Children spit upon her, mothers threw spoiled food, and men had torches, only bringing the flame so close to her skin that it scared her. Yet, Joan's gaze was like stone, looking ahead at the pile of hay and straw. At the top of the man-made hill was a long, jaggedly cut piece of wood with a tiny platform at it's base. My tomb, Joan thought. She put her head down and said the prayers that have comforted her since childhood. The Our Father, the Lord's prayer, a couple of Hail Mary's...God, do you hear me, she thought. Can you hear my voice? Make room up there, because I think I'm coming earlier than expected.Burning Lilies Chapter 114 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
As she reached the mountain of straw, she saw a smirking Arthur in very formal wear.
"Dressing for the occasion, my dear. Men, take he
France x Joan of Arc - MemoireFrance x Joan of Arc - Memoire4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"I fight for you, and yet, I know not of your name. Pray tell, will I ever be given the chance to have the honor of learning what it would happen to be?"
Joan smiled softly, her shoulders hunching slightly as she eyed the taller blond that stood before her. Cerulean upon cerulean locked for a long moment, her softer shade contrasting greatly with the surprised, nearly wide-eyed look the ageless male shot towards her. "I take it that I'm still not worthy of such...?"
When his eyes flickered from her's, the blooming pangs of regret began to ebb at her stomach. Perhaps it was too much to ask for after all, she was nothing more than a lowly servant working under this man. This man, whom God had asked her to fight for, to serve without question, and to protect to her very last breath
The last thing she wanted was to upset him. Surely, doing so would displease her Lord.
"You already know of my name," he answered, unable to meet her gaze again. "France. Onc
If I tell you that I love youIf I tell you that I love you,If I tell you that I love you4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Will you say it back to me?
If I tell you that I love you,
Will you run away and scream?
If I tell you that I love you,
Will you think it's a nightmare?
If I tell you that I love you,
Will you think it's just a dare?
If I tell you that I love you,
Would you kiss me in the rain?
If I tell you that I love you,
Would you become a greater pain?
If I tell you that I love you,
Would you stop and kiss my hair?
If I tell you that I love you,
Will our hearts become a pair?
If I tell you that I love you,
Would you love me with all of your soul?
Or will it take me forever to realize
that you let me fall down on my own?
What's Never SaidA life on repeat is hardly worth living. Submitting to the same when all she wants is different got her nowhere. Keep things interesting, she would say. Go left when the map says right, get up an hour early to see the sun rise. School drove her crazy with its set schedules and guidelines for every class. Every rainbow was a target, and the same kids every day shot an arrow. Being unique doesn't make you strong, and maybe she would have been better off if she had been gifted with the latter.What's Never Said4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Was it wrong to be angry? No one knew, and so no one said a word. They laughed together at the memories of her, but cried on their own. Had she realized the silence she forced on those she loved, maybe the dearly departed would have stayed. But she didn't, and so the silence settled into their throats. The questions they never asked (Was it because I wasn't there enough? Did she think I didn't care? Would she have stayed if I hadn't called her weird?) became answered with personal yeses, and all the