A short while after Jeanne had fallen asleep, Francis heard a knock at the door to his hotel room. He glanced down at the girl to be sure she was still there before hurrying to the door to let Arthur in. He was scared that if he left her for even a moment, she would disappear.

Arthur carried a heavy satchel filled with all different kinds of books. As he sorted them out on the kitchenette table, Francis noted that they ranged from large to small, yellowed to new, and ornate to plain. Arthur must have dug through everything he had on or relating to the subject at hand and Francis felt a wave of gratitude wash over him. He knew he wasn't Arthur's favorite person, but he was so happy the man was willing to help him in this time of need.

"What are all of these?" Francis asked curiously as he gazed over the books.

"Spell books, history books, anything I could find that might help us," Arthur explained as he picked one up and leafed through it. He marked a page by folding the top corner down and set it back on the table with a glance to the taller man. "Is she asleep?"

"Yes, she's right this way."

Francis led Arthur to the bedroom where Jeanne still lay asleep. The British man came over and felt her forehead for a brief moment before standing back. Francis watched with curiosity as Arthur focused himself on the sleeping form before him. Arthur's eyes closed and he took a deep breath in, then out, feeling the energy in the room. There was his and Francis', immortal and plentiful. There was some energy coming from the plants that both decorated the room and the balcony outside the window. Some specs of energy floated from living organisms Arthur could sense both inside the hotel room and outside, such as the birds flying through the air.

But Jeanne's energy had a different kind of taste to it. Now that Arthur could really focus on her, he was surprised he had missed it. While all living things on earth, even nation personifications, had a sort of "earthy" energy, Jeanne's had a very divine flavor. It was unlike anything Arthur had felt before, but it was weak and fading fast. The trip over had worn her out and he sensed that being in a plane, closer to the heavens than she had been in a long time, had shocked her system.

Arthur realized that it wasn't a matter of Jeanne being unable to replenish her energy. She wasn't fading as one does with old age. The problem was that she wasn't able to use the earthly energy around her and convert it for her own needs. She needed heavily energy. The nations were connected to the earth in a very deep way, and therefore did not require replenishing of energy, thus rendering them immortal. But Jeanne was not connected to the earth anymore; she was connected to the heavens, and so she couldn't use the earth's energy as her own.

"Ah." Arthur said as his eyes snapped open. He turned to Francis and opened his mouth to explain everything he had just discovered, before realizing that the Frenchman would have no idea what he was talking about and no real use for the information if it didn't come with a solution.

Francis arched an eyebrow and Arthur gathered his thoughts. "It's complicated," Arthur said. "But simply put, Jeanne is indeed fading, and she's fading fast. I expect her to wake up once more for a brief period before falling back asleep, if we're lucky. Then she'll remain for another few days before she fades into nothing."

Francis felt his heart sink, and with Arthur offering no solutions, he feared this meant he only had a few moments left with his sweet Jeanne.

"As I said, it's complicated," Arthur continued, sensing Francis' despair. "Jeanne can't use the earth's energy because she's not from earth. She needs heavenly energy, which she can't get here. What we need is a way for her body to be able to convert the energy."

"Can you do that?" Francis asked immediately. Surely in all those books Arthur had brought, the answer was somewhere.

Arthur left the room and returned with one of the older, more worn out books. The pages were not only yellow, but crinkled and torn around the edges. When Arthur opened the brown cover, Francis could tell that some of the words were faded and written in a language that was neither French nor English. Arthur leafed through the pages gently, but with intent before he landed on the page he was looking for.

"Here we go. There's an ancient story from a civilization lost to history long ago about a deity with a similar problem. He longed to remain on Earth forever, but couldn't, and had a medicine man in the village he had come to make him a potion that would allow him to convert the energy from the Earth into energy he could use." Arthur paused, looking ahead in the story. "The ingredients aren't too difficult to find, it's the spell that's a bitch to cast…" He trailed off again before frowning and shutting the book.

"What is it?" Francis asked, hating to be left in the dark. Arthur was giving him a very serious look and he knew there was a price. "Will she lose her memory of me? Or of who she is? What is it?"

"No, no, nothing like that," Arthur said with a sigh as he set the book down on the nightstand. "She'll remember you in both this life and her previous life. However… it's risky. The potion will wreak havoc on her entire spiritual system, affecting her body in a very physical way. She could die."

"Well, she'll die anyways as it stands!" Francis said. "I don't want to see her in pain, but she can handle it. She's tough."

"I know," Arthur said, growing aggravated with being cut off. "And I have no doubts that she's a strong woman. But if she doesn't survive, she won't return to Heaven. In the story, the deity did not survive the potion and he was banished to purgatory for the rest of eternity."

Francis froze for a moment before shaking his head. "Well, the Catholic Church doesn't even believe in purgatory anymore." He said.

"It doesn't matter what some man-made institution believes!" Arthur argued. "I'm not saying the story is completely correct, but the risk is still there. We've established there's a Heaven. It sounds like a nice place, and if Jeanne doesn't make it through this, she won't be able to go back. It's a huge risk, Francis. Purgatory is no Hell, but no religion that has ever existed on this earth has ever painted purgatory as a great place to be. It's a risk, Francis. A huge one at that."

Francis knew Arthur was right, although it pained him to even mentally admit it. He looked over at Jeanne, still sleeping peacefully. She had the right to go back to Heaven, where she could be happy forever. But she also had the right to stay here on earth where she would also be happy.

"You said I may be able to wake her up once more?" Francis asked. "I will ask her."

Arthur nodded. He wasn't sure where he stood on this. He didn't mind casting the spell. He had cast plenty that took much out of him, but it would be worth it in this case if it carried no risks. But all major spells carried risks, and he didn't want to be the cause of a girl being banished from eternal happiness forever. On the other hand, deep down, he wanted Francis to be happy, at least in this instance. After all these years, he deserved it. And if he didn't deserve all kinds of happiness, he at least didn't deserve to have the love of his life ripped from him for the second time.

"I'll go gather the ingredients." Arthur said as he picked the book back up. "Ask her, but be sure to explain all the risks."

Francis nodded as the other man left the room. He sat down for a moment to gather his thoughts before even beginning to wake Jeanne.

Jeanne's eyes fluttered open as the felt herself being gently rocked back and forth on the bed. Part of her wanted to remain asleep for as long as possible. It was peaceful and calming, nicer than the hectic world outside the room. This was unlike her, as she used to have so much energy. The thought of spending the day in bed frustrated her, but she was too tired to care.

"Jeanne?" Francis whispered softly.

She let out a sound that was halfway between affirmative and annoyed.

"I must speak with you." Francis said. "I know you're tired, I will let you sleep soon." Jeanne nodded and moved to sit up, but couldn't gather the energy to do so. Francis helped move her up against the pillows and took her hand.

"Arthur was here. He knows what's wrong." Francis started. "Your body isn't fit for Earth. It would take more explaining than we have time for, and I don't really understand all of it, but Arthur has a way for you to remain here with me. It's a potion and a spell."

"Witchcraft?" Jeanne frowned. Such things were against her beliefs, and she also found it bitterly hypercritical that she was condemned for what Arthur now practices freely.

Francis nodded. "Yes. I know your opinion on the matter. Mine doesn't differ much from yours anyway. However, it is a way for you to remain here, with me. But… There is one thing." He paused for a moment and sighed. "Arthur told me that creating the potion and casting the spell can be done with ease, it's the effect the potion will have on you that is the problem. The potion will change the way your body processes energy and will be very painful."

"I have been burned alive, Francis," Jeanne said. "I can handle the pain."

"Yes, I know. I have no doubt you can handle the pain. You are strong. But should something take a turn for the worse, you could die."

"I will whether I take the potion or not, it seems."

"You will not return to Heaven. Arthur believes that, should the potion cause your death, you will not be able to return to Heaven and will spend forever in purgatory."

This made Jeanne pause for a moment and glance down at the covers. Purgatory was a frightening place. One might even consider it worse than Hell. There is nothing, no stimulation, no feelings. At least in Hell you feel the suffering and heartache. In heaven you feel peace and happiness. But purgatory is nothing. It is simply existing without purpose. And to have no chance at ever feeling anything again would be a terrible fate.

Jeanne also knew that her Heaven was here on earth with Francis. To never be able to see him again in the physical sense would cause her great pain. She also knew it would hurt him, and to have to watch from afar while he reverted to the state he was in after her first death would make even the sweetest concept of Heaven no longer worth it.

"Jeanne?" Francis asked, worried she was about to fall asleep again. She glanced back at him and squeezed his hand.

"I understand the risks involved, and I do not like the idea of using spells and witchcraft." She began. "I worry that this will not be God's will, and that He will not be happy if I participate in this. However, I also don't believe that God would make this possible if making the decision interfered with His plan. So I will take it. If I am to be sent to purgatory for the rest of eternity, then so be it. But I assure you, Francis, I may not have much energy in me, but I will fight. This will be my final battle on Earth and I assure you, I will stop at nothing to be the victor."

Francis studied her face for a long time. Dark purple bags had formed under her eyes, a physical representation of the tiredness she could not shake. Her grip, though present, was weak and fading. She didn't have a lot of conscious time left. Her breathing was slow, her lips parted just barely as she struggled to keep herself upright and awake.

But despite all signs of her about to crumble away, her eyes shone with the determination of the woman she had been centuries ago. As she would enter into every battle, she gave a speech similar to the one she had just given Francis. She let the soldiers know the pros and cons of entering into battle and gave them the option to bow out. They had families, many had small children. She never blamed nor judged them for their decision. But she would also explain God's will in a way that would inspire even the firmest nonbeliever. Her faith was as strong as the walls they often surrounded, but could never be shaken by even the strongest of armies.

As he had centuries before, Francis believed her. She was the strongest person he had ever known and also the most stubborn. Even if he had wanted her to reject the potion, he would never have convinced her otherwise.

"I know." He finally said. "And I will be with you the entire time. When you wake up, you will see me. Here. I have all the faith in the world in you, my dear. I know you can do this."

"I do love you, Francis." She said. "I have for centuries. I never truly left you. I hope you know that." Francis nodded. At the worst of times, he often felt her presence from beyond, though it wasn't until now that he let himself believe it had actually been her. "And I do not know what the future will bring, but I can only pray it includes us together here on Earth." Her last few words were whispered softly, her energy fading by the minute.

As Francis pulled her into a tight hug, Arthur returned with the potion and a large spell book. "Good, you have her awake." He said, noticing the woman's eyes were still just barely open. "It will make taking the potion simpler. Have you made your decision?"

Francis nodded, knowing Jeanne was too weak to speak. "She will take it."

"Alright then." Arthur nodded. "First, we need to get back to where she first appeared. I know she appeared near Paris. We don't need to be at the exact spot, so your home will do."

Francis asked. "I don't think we have time! And if being so close to the heavens sucked the last of her energy, we will surely be too late by the time we get back to my home. Besides, why does it matter where the spell is cast?"

"And that is why I know teleportation." Arthur said, slightly aggravated that a question that doubted his abilities was asked. "I know it's a strange requirement, but I don't make up the spells. If that is what the spell calls for, then that is what we must do. I suppose, though, it has something to do with harnessing the energy of the… spawning point, for lack of a better term."

Francis nodded as Arthur got to work on casting the teleportation spell. This was a spell the man was well practiced at and could cast with great accuracy. With Francis there, he would be able to get right into the home. Francis lifted Jeanne into his arms and checked to make sure she was still awake.

In the blink of an eye, they were standing in Francis' kitchen. The Frenchman was amazed at how quickly the spell had been cast and how easily it had taken them to his home. But, they didn't have time to discuss Arthur's improved magical abilities. Instead, they hurried up to Jeanne's room where the woman was propped up against the pillows in the large and much more comfortable bed.

Arthur produced a small blue vile from his bag and handed it to Francis. He examined it for a moment before looking back to Arthur who was mentally preparing himself to cast the spell. "Give that to Jeanne," the shorter man explained. "It won't take effect until the spell is cast."

Francis uncapped the bottle and lifted it to Jeanne's lips. "Are you ready?" he asked and received a weak nod in return. He took a deep breath and tilted the bottle back gently so the liquid slowly trickled into her mouth and down her throat.

"Lay her down." Arthur said. "I don't know how she'll react, and would rather have her not hit her head against the back of the bed." Francis nodded and helped her lay down under the covers as her eyes started to flutter shut.

"Go on and sleep," Francis said softly. "When you awaken, I will be here." With that, Jeanne's eyes closed and she drifted back into her peaceful sleep.

Arthur nodded to himself once he saw that she was settled. He drew a chalk circle on the hardwood ground and set himself in the middle. Francis watched curiously as blue light, the same shade as the potion had been, began to form around the circle. Arthur spoke in a language that Francis had never heard before, but he could feel the power pulsating off of the words. The blue light began to fill the room and grew brightest over Jeanne's head. Francis knew the potion would be activated soon.

It only took a minute for the spell to be cast. Once Arthur was finished, the blue light faded, except for a small flicker above Jeanne. The Englishman stood when he was done and weakly leaned against the wall. "As long as that light is blue," he explained. "She is fine. If it turns red, she has taken a turn for the worse. If it becomes black, she is gone. It will take a few hours. You should stay to comfort her. This is said to be excruciating and, though I don't think she will be able to feel your comfort, there is no harm in trying."

"You look exhausted, my friend," Francis said. "There's a spare room next door. Go lay down."

Arthur nodded and gathered his things. "I'll be alright after a light rest. If Jeanne makes it, she will need a few weeks of recovery. Hopefully the worst will be over soon."

Francis nodded as the other blonde left the room. He turned his attention to Jeanne whose peaceful face had begun to scrunch into one of pain. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed. Francis felt her forehead which seemed to be growing warmer and warmer. He braced himself for what was about to happen. It surely wouldn't be pretty.

Francis was correct in his assumption. An hour later, Jeanne's face was pale, but flushed with a fever and she twisted and turned unconsciously from an invisible pain. Francis tried his best to keep her still, but he feared Arthur had been right. No calming touch nor soothing word could quiet Jeanne.

Yet, Francis noted, her light was still blue, but had grown increasingly purple as the hour went on. Every now and then it would turn bright blue, then fade back into purple. He worried this meant the light would soon turn red… then black. But he had to keep himself from those thoughts as best he could and focus on calming Jeanne.

Then, about two hours after the spell had been activated, Jeanne let out a terrible scream as the light turned to red. Francis could do nothing as he watched her writhe with pain he couldn't even imagine. As the flame began to darken, Jeanne began to calm and before Francis checked the light, he thought it might have turned back to blue.

He was curious as to why she had stopped moving, but realized that the pain she was in had become so great, it left her completely immobilized. Her breaths came out in short puffs and her face was burning to the touch. He knew that her weak body wouldn't be able to take much more of this.

As the second hour dragged on, Jeanne's breathing became more and more feint and Francis had to resign himself to losing her once again. He contemplated getting Arthur, but he knew there was nothing more the man could do for them. He took Jeanne's hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze.

"Come on, my darling. You can do it." He whispered. "Please, don't give up. This is nothing like you. This might be a new century—an entirely new world to you—but you're still the same Jeanne d'Arc. The same girl who came to be bright eyed and ready for a fight all those years ago. Who wouldn't take no for an answer when my general said a woman couldn't fight. Who led an army with no training better than my men ever could and ever have since. Who would fight and argue with me on every little thing. If you can fight with me, you can fight this. Please."

Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he began to give up. The red light was turning darker and Francis knew she had only a few moments left. He leaned over her still form and gave her the lightest of kisses on her warm lips. "I'm so proud of you," he whispered. "You fought so hard, and for me. I will always love you, my angel."

Jeanne let out the last breath she had and lay still. Her light turned black, but didn't fade away. Instead, it began to lighten and glow brightly until Francis was blinded by a bright, white light. It faded almost as quickly as it had come, but left the flame flickering a soft blue once more over her head. Francis felt her hand twitch and her eyebrows once again twitch with slight pain, but it was nothing like it had been just an hour before. She began to breathe again, deep wonderful breaths of air that Francis took as peaceful sleeping. Her head was still warm to the touch, but he brushed away all of the pained tears that littered her face. He felt her warm breath on his wrist and knew that she would be alright.

The blue light faded, and Jeanne continued to sleep as Arthur entered the room. "I see she's still here. The magic has left me," he said. "It looks like she made it."

"I told you, Arthur," Francis beamed. "She's the strongest person on this Earth."

Arthur nodded and came over to the bed. He placed his own hand on her forehead and lightly touched her cheek. "She had quite the fight. I could feel it. She almost didn't make it, hmm?" Francis responded with a silent nod. "She's weak, perhaps weaker than before. But, she'll be alright. She needs all the rest she can get, though, so don't be surprised if she doesn't wake up for a few days. Be patient, but I can assure you, she's here to stay."

For the next three days, Francis barely left Jeanne's side. He was partially afraid her fever would get worse, partially worried she would wake up with him gone, and extremely fearful that she would disappear the moment he left. Arthur assured him for the two days he stayed to recover that Jeanne was indeed as immortal as the two of them were, and would not be leaving any time soon, but even with that reassurance, Francis couldn't help but be cautious.

Jeanne had a lot of recovering to do after the battle she had won against herself. Her body worked to fix itself and rebuild within a new energy system that had taken root. Her fever remained high and Francis would gently pat a damp cloth around her face to clear up the sweat that often formed on her brow. He also gave her water to be sure she didn't dehydrate and pushed back all of his appointments so he could be there.

By the third day, Francis was afraid she would never wake up and called Arthur to ask him. The Englishman explained that he had never cast this spell before and didn't know anyone who had, so he couldn't tell him what the side effects were, but once again explained that the woman was extremely weak and to give her a week before calling Arthur back.

Francis sighed and hung up the phone, knowing that he had held onto the hope that Arthur could present a quick fix to the problem. But, he had to be patient, so he returned to Jeanne's side and opened his fourth new book in the three day span she had been asleep.

About an hour into reading, he heard the bed creak softly and the covers rustle. Glancing up at the sudden noise, he placed a book mark in between the pages and set the book aside. He took Jeanne's hand as she slowly regained consciousness and began to explore the feeling of the comfortable bed she was laying in. The covers felt warm over her, but her body also felt too warm to be considered well or normal. Outside, she heard birds chirping and knew she was still on Earth. That made her happier than she was able to express in her current state and she relished in the fact that she had won. She also felt a pressure on her hand and knew that Francis was there, but also knew that he had more than likely not left her side for however long she had been asleep.

"Jeanne?" Francis finally whispered as he let his impatience get the best of him. "Hey, you're still here. Come on, my dear. Wake up."

Jeanne really wanted to punch him. If she could open her eyes, she would, gladly. The world was dark and being blinded frustrated her. Francis' pleading didn't help much. She took a deep breath in and squeezed his hand in an attempt to let him know she had heard him and was trying. Unfortunately, it ended up being just a tiny twitch of her finger, but Francis felt it and understood.

Finally, Jeanne was able to crack open her sleep crusted eyes… And then immediately shut them as the bright afternoon sunlight caused her great pain. Francis noted this and closed the blinds to help her better adjust to the world around her.

"Hey, how are you feeling?" Francis asked, eager to hear her voice. Jeanne let out a tiny sound as she exhaled, trying to show that she was alright, but not anywhere near full strength. Francis understood and fell silent to try and let the woman regain her bearings.

"You've been asleep for three days." Francis explained after she had kept her eyes opened for a minute or two. Jeanne was startled by this, but wasn't exactly surprised. Although her sleep had caused time in her mind to go by quickly, she remembered very vividly the pain she had been placed under and didn't doubt that her body had and still needed a great deal of time to recover.

"I'm so proud of you." Francis said after another minute of silence. He was met with the biggest smile Jeanne could muster—a tiny upward twitch of the lips. Francis brushed back a lock of her hair that was damp with sweat and grease from her fever and not being able to bathe properly. "You did it. You're alive and here."

"I told you," she whispered out on an exhaled breath before breathing in again sharply and exhaling again. "I wouldn't fail."

"I know," Francis said and put a finger to her lips. "Shh, you need to save your energy. Are you hungry?"

"Thirsty," Jeanne replied ignoring him. Francis helped sit her up as slowly as he could and grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand. He placed the rim to her lips and helped her drink until her thirst had been quenched.

Being awake for so long, speaking, and drinking had taken all of the energy Jeanne had at the moment. As soon as Francis laid her back down, she was asleep, but he was at least comforted knowing she was alive and had been awake.

Arthur was not wrong in his assessment of her recovery time; even two weeks after the incident, she was only able to be out of bed for a few hours a day, but had gotten into a relatively regular nap and sleep schedule. Francis took care of her very well, although that did annoy her slightly. She took it in stride, though, knowing she would be back to work as soon as she could be.

Arthur came to visit about two and a half weeks after the spell had been cast to be sure she was recovering well. Francis made tea and the relationship between Jeanne and Arthur didn't seem as strained as it had been before. Friendship might be a relatively extreme term, but the two had a lot of respect for each other.

"It's amazing she puts up with you." Arthur joked lightly after Jeanne had fallen asleep on Francis only an hour into their visit. The other man laughed and wrapped a blanket around Jeanne while shifting to allow her to comfortably rest her head on his shoulder.

"It truly is," he said. "She's one amazing woman. I swear, she can fight her way through anything." Arthur nodded with a light smile. He was glad to see Francis was happy, although he wouldn't blatantly admit it.

"I don't mean to pry," Arthur began as his curiosity got the best of him. "But has she expressed the same… feelings for you that you have for her." Francis was slightly taken aback by this question, but smiled and nodded.

"We've discussed the possibility of a relationship, but only in passing. She falls asleep so easily, it's hard to carry a conversation. But she seems open to it, though a little fearful. Relationships are much different now than they were back in her day."

"And you?" Arthur asked with a raised eyebrow. Both men knew he was referring to Francis' extensive dating history.

Francis smiled lightly. "If Jeanne will be the only woman in my life for the rest of eternity, I will be the happiest man on Earth." Arthur nodded and returned the smile. He knew Francis would remain faithful to Jeanne. He felt happy that he helped the man keep his love on Earth. Although they would continue to bicker at meetings and over silly plights, they would forever share this connection.

Jeanne recovered fully after two months and she and Francis fell into a sort of awkward relationship. Their love for each other was clear, but Jeanne's old fashioned values mixed with Francis' usual embracing of mainstream relationship ideas made for an interesting time. They held hands in public after five months together, had their first kiss at a year, and even shared a bed at a meeting after about two and a half years. Francis proposed near where he had first met her centuries before on the fourth anniversary of him finding her on the street. She said yes.

A wedding was starting to be planned, but neither Jeanne nor Francis were in any rush. After all, they had all the time on Earth.

And there you go. It only took be four years and a sudden stroke of inspiration. Hope you enjoyed!

-Kat