D' Arc || The King

Chapter I

25 October 1415

King Henry V wandered through the carnage, the moans and cries of the wounded barely cutting through the hollow buzzing that filled his ears as he looked around at the field. This land used to be a grassy field of green that hid the lake of mud, but now it was more blood and gore than wet dirt. There was a squelching of shoes against the mud and his head whipped in the direction of the noise.

A girl ran across the field, barely avoiding a puddle made from more blood than mud, her white veil fluttering after her. Henry watched curiously as she knelt down next to an English soldier who groaned in pain. She gripped his hand and murmured something, her lips moving quickly. 

"You need to stop struggling." Her calm voice reached past the ringing in his ears as he walked slowly over to them as the man shook his head frantically. "No, no, no! I'll be fine! Please don't, it hurts too much already!" She leaned down and touched his cheek with her free one, turning his face so he could see her. "It will only get worse, Monsieur. You must let me do what is needed or else your wound will become worse." He thrashed in her grip and she looked up at Henry, her blue eyes almost helpless before she looked back at the man, tilting his face so he could see her properly. "Do you want to see your family again? Your siblings? Your cousins, mother, and father?" He nodded, his eyes hazy with pain.

"Good, then you must listen to me and do as I say, please."

He trembled and she smiled softly down at him. "Just imagine you're with your family. I will make it as quickly as possible." She waited until his thrashing stopped and she looked up at Henry and motioned for him to hold the man down as she placed a strip of leather in the soldier's mouth. "Bite on this, Monsieur." She turned away as he knelt down and held down his man. Then there was a sickening noise as steel cut through flesh and then bone.

Henry struggled to hold the now screaming man down as he looked up in shock at the girl. Her face was more concentrated than disgusted as she worked on sawing off the man's leg. Blood splattered on her face, but she didn't show any emotion other than blinking. Her lips were pursed and her eyes didn't move away from the task at hand. All the while the man was screaming and thrashing around, trying in vain to worm away as Henry's grip held him down.

When the deed was done and the soldier's now decapitated leg was cleaned and bandaged, the girl stood and picked up her basket, mud dripping off the bottom of the tightly woven object. "Thank you." She said, her accent finally reaching his ears. Their eyes met and her lips quirked up.

"Vous savez, c'est considéré comme impoli de regarder."

"You're French." Was all Henry managed to cough out. "I am," she said matter of factly. "Is there a problem with that?" He shrugged and looked across the battlefield. "I just thought that a woman wouldn't be here." She followed his gaze and sighed. "I do what I can. Most of these men will not live to see the sun tomorrow." "Why is that?" She looked at him like he was an idiot, one eyebrow arched up. "Rot, bleeding out..." she swallowed. "Steel, men. That's what will kill them." His face darkened and she looked away from him. "But I do what I can to ease their pain." 

"By cutting off pieces of them," Henry said in a flat voice. "It's less painful than dying from infection." She snapped back before they lapsed into silence.

"I'm surprised you didn't faint when you saw the battlefield." He said, attempting to break the long and extremely awkward span of quietness that they sat in. "Girls see more blood than boys." She said, crossing her arms, her fingers covered in drying blood. "Perhaps only the women in your country faint at the sight of their monthly bleeding." She retorted and Henry felt a flare of indignation. "What do you mean by that? Are you saying we are weak?" He demanded as she smirked at him. "Maybe. But is invading France the only way for you to show power?" "Your king-" he stopped himself when she arched an eyebrow at him again and he let out a huff. "Never mind. What do you mean by the sight of their monthly bleeding?" He questioned, trying to turn their conversation away from the invasion.

She just stared at him. Then she let out a snort. "Seriously?" She snickered. "You have no idea what monthly bleeding is? Don't you have sisters who complain about this stuff?" She looked at his face and realized he was serious and she stopped. "Mon Dieu, vous les Anglais avez la tête épaisse." She muttered before straightening. "Nothing. Nothing at all." She waved her hands in the air.

"I should get going. I have a home to return to. It was a pleasure to met France's invader." She smiled before turning around and began to walk away. Henry suddenly felt alone without her by his side and he called out, "The man was lucky that you were here." She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled. "I know," she called back. "He was unlucky that you were." She laughed at the look on his face and disappeared down the path.

Author Note:

I am not French.

I do not speak French, so I apologize if there is anything wrong with the translation. If you have any corrections, please tell me. Anyways, thank you for reading my story!

"Monsieur."- Mr.

"Vous savez, c'est considéré comme impoli de regarder." - You know, it's considered rude to stare.

"Mon Dieu, vous les Anglais avez la tête épaisse."- My God, you Englishmen have a thick heads.