Malleus Maleficarum [The Meddler/OPEN]

[Jehanne D'Arc]

Jehanne opened her mouth to address the peculiar people standing before her when the second man spoke up. Thank the Lord! She turned to him, a relieved smile on her face. “Yes, you certainly may help me.” Perhaps he could make these strangers understand. Or at the least tell me where they are from. Her nose wrinkled slightly as she observed them. Where had they come from? The same place as the others? And how to ask him? If the fellow was a Burgundian, this could get complicated quickly. Yet I am certain he is not one of mine. Surely I would have recognized him.


She turned her gaze back to the second fellow, the one who had addressed her in French.”Tell them”—gesturing to the first pair—“that I require their immediate surrender. They will be well taken care of, my men will not harm them, and they will be ransomed as quickly as possible.” There now. Mayhap things would go more smoothly. At the least they shall know what I have said.


She nodded to the woman who spoke to her. Odd that a French fellow is traveling with an English woman but if he is a Burgundian, perhaps that is why. If he was a Burgundian, perhaps she should require his surrender as well. But I cannot be certain that he is not one of mine, or mayhap he is from Compiegne. “Are you of the king’s party or do you support the English?” Jehanne asked. Best to learn it now.


Jehanne eyed the blonde woman currently standing behind the fellow who had addressed her. She, like the red haired woman, was dressed in odd clothes. As to that, so was the man. What place is this, that all of these people come from? “Who are you? Where have you come from?” Doubtless, her fellow captains would wish to know that as well. She glanced again at the red haired woman’s weapons. “Tell her she must surrender her weapons. They will be returned to her upon her ransom. Tell the man the same, if he is armed.”

[The First Doctor]

Leaning on his cane, smiling pleasantly at "the Maid" (a name that seemed to ring a few bells, somewhere), the Meddler listened and processed.

He glanced at his niece out of the corner of his eye, and noticed her faint look of puzzlement. "You aren't getting any of this, are you? Remind me to turn the translation circuits back on, next time I'm in the control room."

The Maid and the two newcomers - time travelers as well, from the look of them - chattered away in rapid French. "She's insisting that we surrender, that we will not be harmed, and that we will be ransomed," he translated.

More discussion. "She's also asking them if they support the king, or the English."

The woman with the sword looked back at them, and spoke more. "She's also insisting that you disarm yourself, and you'll get them back if we're ransomed. Oh, and I have to as well."

"The Maid" gestured for the newcomers to translate.

"Here goes nothing," the Meddler said. He decided to try French again.

"Nay, good Maid. Thou art comprehended, and if mine speech seemeth strange to thee, I must crave thy pardon. I hight the Meddler, and yon fair maiden be mine sister's daughter and a boon companion. It is that we be far wanderers, and knew not that into thy lands had we intruded. We are no adversaries of thine."

The words, at least, comprehensible this time.

[The Phantom]

"Are you of the King's party or do you support the English?" The French lady with the sword as them.

"... Neither? Actually I'm not sure what the correct answer would be in this particular situation." Maria trailed off getting more confused as the time passed.

"Who are you? Where do you come from?"

"Hello I'm Maria and as to where I'm from.. I'm from a place very very very far away. And Rio here, I believe is from France." Maria started before looking up at Rio and asking. "Right?"

She didn't fail to notice the other man accomping the redhaired woman speaking french to the french lady with the sword.

[Rio Keâts]

After the woman gave him directions, he turned to the two strangers, prepared to serve his job as a translator. However, the man beat him to the punch. He raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances with Maria. “If you knew the language,” he began, trying his best not to appear rude, “why weren’t you speaking it?” Riocard asked curiously, placing his hands behind his back. He was beginning to take a disliking to these two travellers, but he was quite willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Vivid green eyes narrowed in on them, his friendly smile a stark contrast to his obvious distrust.

Perhaps there would have been a day when he would have immediately struck up a friendship with the odd pair – when he would have thought they were exciting and not dangerous. When he would have overthrown the entire country if they’d asked him to join along. And maybe he still would, but certainly not with the Phantom still around. He knew that she was stronger than she let on, but he was still wary to put the girl in danger. She was like the little sister he’d never had the chance to have, even if she was older than him.

“Are you one of the king’s party or do you support the English?” the woman asked. He laughed smoothly, quite used to this line of questioning from his work in various rebel groups. Realizing his laughter may be misconstrued, he stopped himself, preparing to apologize.

“Neither?” Maria suggested. He winced. “Actually, I’m not sure what the correct answer would be in this particular situation,” she admitted. Riocard remained dutifully silent, waiting until his friend finished before he swooped in with a suave recovery. “Hello I’m Maria and as to where I’m from… I’m from a place very very very far away. And Rio here, I believe is from France. Right?”

And now he was caught in a dilemma. It was quite obvious that this was during one of his country’s wars – against the English, but that wasn’t such a surprise since the French and the English never got along very well – and he, as a Frenchman, was quite obviously supposed to help his country. “We are here to aid in any way we can, friend,” he volunteered, glancing over towards Maria.

Remembering she’d said something about how languages translated automatically for her – and for most people, but Riocard really hadn’t noticed that yet – he nudged Maria gently and leaned closer. “Do you remember when we are?” he asked in rapid Russian. “We’re in what? Fifteenth century France? A girl wearing armor? I don’t know much about history, but I know a lot about saints,” he said, tugging on his friend happily.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

"No indeed, French has never been my greatest subject I'm sorry to say" she said sarcastically.

Sisi wasn't sure whether to be outraged, shocked or insulted. This little chit had the nerve to tell her to surrender, come away to be ransomed and give up all her weapons? Who the hell did this little girl thought she was? What was she doing on the battlefield at her age anyway? Sisi turned back to the Meddler.

"Can I disarm her, pretty please?" She hissed in the language of the Tuatha Dé, knowing a TARDIS would not translate it. To the others, the language of the Tuatha Dé Danann almost sounded like a mix between ancient Gaelic and song, whispering on the wind. Just then a smile suddenly crept on her face and she leaned in. "Or I could always do the golden halo trick." She raised her brow.

Or she could always grab the Meddler by the hair, drag him into the TARDIS and get the hell away from this place.

Weird guys, those French.

[The First Doctor]

Riocard raised an eyebrow, exchanging glances with Maria. “If you knew the language,” he began, trying his best not to appear rude, “why weren’t you speaking it?”

The Meddler lifted an eyebrow. "Faith, sirrah," he responded in his oddly-archaic French, "Thou art wrong to make such warrants. 'Twas Frankish thou heards't from my lips, good Frankish and true, learned at the court of William Dux Normandie. Tis not a fault of mine, that yon Maid spake it not."

Sisi, meanwhile, was fuming. "Can I disarm her, pretty please?" She hissed in the language of the Tuatha Dé. Just then a smile suddenly crept on her face and she leaned in. "Or I could always do the golden halo trick."

"Patience, my dear," he responded in the same language. "For it is in her domains we find ourselves, I believe, and it is that we have come here without her leave." He considered the Maid. "Let us reason with her first, and not give her cause to believe that we are devils or sorcerers."

[Jehanne D'Arc]

"Nay, good Maid. Thou art comprehended, and if mine speech seemeth strange to thee, I must crave thy pardon. I hight the Meddler, and yon fair maiden be mine sister's daughter and a boon companion. It is that we be far wanderers, and knew not that into thy lands had we intruded. We are no adversaries of thine."


Jehanne arched a brow, choking back a laugh. Mayhap this fellow is some wandering noble? Those at Charles’ court often spoke this way. Jehanne had spent the better part of the first several months simply trying to follow the conversations that buzzed about her. She opened her mouth to reply, however the other fellow spoke before she could answer, questioning the other’s use of French. Jehanne listened to the exchange, gaze flickering between the two men. Frankish? William of Normandy? Her head began to swim. All at once, the younger fellow spoke up, offering his assistance. Abruptly he bent down and spoke to the woman with him. Jehanne simply stared at them. Where have they all come from? The red haired woman spoke then and Jehanne jerked her head toward her. This tongue is even stranger than the other. The fellow in the grey replied in the same tongue, before turning back to Jehanne.


The young French girl swept into a bow. “Eh, my lord, these are not mine lands. They belong to the King of Heaven and His steward, Charles, who doth hold them in fief for The Lord.” She cast a glare at the red-haired English woman before turning her gaze back to the man in grey. The Meddler is an odd title! Mayhap he is a jester? But why should he speak so? Surely he is some fine lord.“What is thy companion called?” She had learned a good deal about fine speaking from the nobles at Charles’ court. Never would I have imagined that I should find their odd speech useful! “I am called Jehanne, The Maid. I am pleased thou art not mine adversaries.” She nodded toward the town. “Yonder is Compiegne, at present besieged by the English and Burgundians. My troops and I have come to relieve it.”


Turning to the younger pair, Jehanne said, “Thank you for your help. I am not certain what shall be required of you yet.” She smiled at the blonde woman. Neither, eh? Jehanne snorted. "You are indeed from very far away if you have not heard of the troubles we have had with the English."

[The Phantom]

Maria replied to Rio in Japanese. "I think it's May in 1430 France. What do you know about the saints?"

She couldn't help but eye the older man curiously, along with his heavy armed companion. There was something strange about them, not counting the man's french. The Phantom tilted her head to the side, trying to figure out this traveller's mystery.

It didn't take long for her to start grinning widely, it was obvious they were time traveller's, judging by the redhead's weapons. However she didn't see a vortex manipulator which meant they had a much better form of transportation.

"Hello?" Maria asked in Gallifreyan, knowing that it wouldn't translate for anyone who didn't know the language. The only reason why she used her original language was simply out of curiousity, and if the other two time travellers couldn't understand her. Well then there was no harm done.

"Thank you for your help. I am not certain what shall be required of you yet." The lady with the sword told her and Rio. She smiled at Maria, who in turned smiled back.

"You are indeed from very far away if you have not heard of the troubles we have had with the English." The french lady added.

"Extremely far away.." The Phantom quietly stated, starting to feel a bit homesick. "Oh! I am Maria Johnson, it's nice to meet you."

[Rio Keâts]

“Faith, sirrah, thou art wrong to make such warrants.” What the hell was this guy going on about? Riocard stared at him blankly, lips curled into a bemused smile. He could understand the words well enough to understand that the man was chiding him for leaping to conclusions. “’Twas Frankish thou heards’t from my lips, good Frankish and true, learned at the court of William Dux Normandie. Tis not a fault of mine, that yon Maid spake it not.” Oh, this was just priceless. Riocard covered his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter. The woman seemed to be amused by his rather stiff, overly formal speech.

Maid.

While the woman was busy speaking with the other two travelers, Maria answered his question in just as rapid… Japanese? He stared at her skeptically, wondering when he’d learned enough Japanese to understand what she had just said. Nonetheless, he managed ‘May’ and ‘1430’. He stared at the Time Lady, slightly aggravated that she wasn’t quite catching on to just who this girl was. He looked critically at the two others.

But if they weren’t from Earth, then why would they have any reason to know of this woman? How would they understand the significance Jehanne d’Arc?

“I am called Jehanne, The Maid. I am pleased thou art not mine adversaries. Yonder is Compiegne, at present besieged by the English and Burgundians. My troops and I have come to relieve it.”

His suspicions confirmed, Rio’s countenance fell considerably. He was about to witness one of his country’s greatest heroes get captured and, subsequently, burned. He looked over at Maria, who still didn’t seem to understand his dilemma. He leaned back closer to her. “Maria,” he whispered in quiet German, “Joan of Arc,” he finished. He stared at her, wondering if her English name would make it click.

“Maid,” he said, unsure of how to address her, or even of how to speak. Should he use the formal speech that they had been? “I volunteer to serve you in any way I can.”

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

Sisi really had trouble keeping her face straight as the Meddler spoke in a type a French that sounded comical even though she had no idea what he was talking about. Yet, when the young woman still holding them at sword point snorted at his speech, she gave Robin a side long 'you just had to go and do that' glance. Sisi gave the young woman before them most brilliant smile she had in her arsenal when she was glared at, right back at ya you little chit she thought behind the plastered smile. Oh she was so tempted to just drag Robin back into the TARDIS by his fine well kept chestnut hair, but sadly he did prove a point. They were on her soil, so they were going to have to play by her rules.

Well bloody great.

She chuckled softly behind her hand, trying to keep her face straight at Robins words about devils and sorcerers. Her eyes positively glittered behind her hand as she replied back to him in their language "But we are devils and sorcerers, Robin. I'm a Sidhe offspring and you're the bloody Puck" She said with a grin.

[The First Doctor]

"Compiegne," the Meddler echoed, thoughtfully. "Jehanne, also known as the Maid. I should recognize those names..."

Sisi chuckled softly behind her hand, trying to keep her face straight at Robins words about devils and sorcerers. Her eyes positively glittered behind her hand as she replied back to him in their language "But we are devils and sorcerers, Robin. I'm a Sidhe offspring and you're the bloody Puck" She said with a grin.

"Hush, you," he answered in the same language. "I spent the eleventh century trying to convince superstitious peasants that I wasn't a warlock, and I've no desire to repeat the experience."

And then the newly-arrived woman spoke, and the Meddler rocked back on his heels in shock. It was a single word, "Hello", spoken in a language that had never existed.

"What?" he demanded Gallifreyan, stepping forward. "How do you know that..?"

[Jehanne D'Arc]

Jehanne arched a brow at the older fellow. What an odd jester this is! “Indeed, my lord. Mayhap you have heard of our wars with the English?” She turned to the younger man and gave him a smile. He seemed rather in awe of her, as if he was not quite certain what to say. “Thank you very much for your offer. Do you know aught about yon town?” She jerked her head toward Compiegne. Perhaps he could tell her how the inhabitants were faring, or report on the movements of the English and Burgundian troops. “Do you hail from these parts or do you come from far away as your friend does?” How odd that two of them to know who I am and the other two do not. It is most strange. She flicked a glance over all of them again. They were all dressed so oddly. Where could they have come form? And how did they arrive here? She saw no horses nor any other means by which they could have come. “How did you all get here?” There was that odd hill—she was almost certain that had not been there before—but beyond this, nothing else seemed amiss. How utterly strange.


She glanced up as the younger blonde woman spoke in yet another strange tongue. The strange lord seemed just as surprised as she, although he replied in the same language. Jehanne simply shook her head. Mayhap they truly are demons. Still, they appeared harmless. Odd—but harmless. Even the woman with the weapons. Mayhap she was the old fellow’s guardian. He had introduced her as his companion after all. She turned her gaze back to the blonde woman, who had claimed to come from very far away. “Where are you from?” Jehanne asked. Could it possibly be that none of them knew of the wars between the French and the English over the throne? She shook her head. No. Surely such a thing was not possible.

[The Phantom]

"Maria," Rio whispered in quiet German, "Joan of Arc."

Maria nodded as it clicked for her. This was not so good, seeing as what the date was, and what was going to happen. She ignore the red-head girl's and the man she was traveling, until he addressed her.

"What?" he demanded Gallifreyan, stepping forward. "How do you know that..?"

"Like I said, I'm from very far away." Maria answered back in the same language. "The Meddler was it? Timelord, am I correct?"

Well at least she confirmed one thing, the older man knew her language. It was nice to see one of her people, if he was in fact a Timelord. After all someone could've easily taught him Gallifreyan, though that seemed unlikely.

"How did you all get here?" Jehanne asked them. "Where are you from?"

"We walked. Love the walks. As for where I'm from..." Maria answered quietly, getting a sad look in her eyes. "My home is long since gone my lady."

[Rio Keâts]

“Thank you very much for your offer,” Jehanne told him. Riocard smiled at him, slightly laced with sadness. The Phantom had told him – all that time ago – that she couldn’t get directly involved with a historical event. Well, that didn’t mean he could it, now did it? “Do you know aught about yon town?” she asked, motioning towards Compiegne.

If there were ever a time that Riocard wished desperately he had gone to school, it would be now. He wasn’t an idiot by anyone’s standards – but he only knew about his religion and the languages he picked up during his travels. He wouldn’t be able to lead Jehanne away from her ultimate downfall, because Rio himself didn’t know it. All he knew was that she would get captured and burned at the stake. And if they stopped her death, what would the future hold?

He bit the inside of his cheek. “They need your help. Compiegne is loyal to France, but… not every city is,” he said awkwardly, trying to help without having Maria hang him by his toenails for obstructing history.

“Do you hail from these parts or do you come from far away as your friend does?”

“I am from here.” He cut himself off from giving her an exact city name. His hometown wasn’t founded until the nineteen hundreds. And the closest large city – Nice – wasn’t part of France until the late eighteen hundreeds. (It was on their flag, and Riocard could remember things that he saw). And she was interrogated by the clergy in Paris because they supported the English – so that was a lie that couldn’t fly. “Orléans.”

All right, so it was a bold-faced lie, but he decided that it was the only city he knew for a fact would be French at the present moment and time – truly French, and not brainwashed by the tea-soaked brains of the Brits. And to her, the savior of Orléans, it would explain why he was willing to volunteer. Well, he hoped she’d go that conclusion.

“We walked. Love the walks,” Maria said beside him.

“Walks are beautiful,” he interjected helpfully.

[Sisilaya Vulmecura]

"If you're not the Warlock here then I surely am, because I'm about to start foaming at the mouth any minute now" Sisi replied back sarcastically in the language of the Tuatha Dé. She sighed and rested back, still letting Robin do all the talking. The medieval French gibberish made no sense to her whatsoever.

Yet what the other younger man said in German she understood clearly, even though her German wasn't all that fantastic she was no fool.

Joan of Arc.

Sisi's gaze snapped back to the small woman before them again as she gasped, seeing her in a new light instantly as it dawned on her who she really was. That little chit was bloody Jeanne D'Arc!

No wonder she had such an ego, she actually could back it up.

Taking as step closer to the Meddler she leaned in to whisper in his ear, even though it was in a language neither here could understand save for them she somehow felt the need to be quiet about it. "Robin that chit is bloody Jeanne D'Arc!" She hissed in his ear.

Then she went quiet suddenly as her eyes widened, she looked back into Robin's eyes as a plan calculated in her mind. That woman was bloody Jeanne D'Arc, one of the most famous women of history, a rolemodel for many women to come coming centuries.

And she was to die soon.

Are you thinking what I'm thinking?

She didn't even have to say it, her facial expression said enough in itself. A small smile spread on her face. The girl was light enough to lift..