March, 1485
It should have been spring. By rights the trees should have been starting to grow their leaves, the sun should have been beginning to shine brighter. It should have been warmer. 734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7nBKBndO2i
And yet Richard still awoke each night shivering to feel the empty, cold space beside him beneath the sheets. Each night he opened his eyes in the small hours, turning to his side hoping to see her fair brown hair and slender figure sleeping softly next to him. Each night he hoped it would be different, that just once she really would be lying there. That just once she would sense him, and awake herself. That just once she would giggle like she used to, and sleepily say, "Stop watching me whilst I sleep Richard. It's rather unsettling."
This night he awoke, but kept his eyes tightly closed. He did not dare to hope.
Eventually he cast aside the silken covers and rose. He lit a candle, and sat by the dying light of the fire. He inhaled deeply, and rested his head in his palms. He was not used to sleeping alone. Of course, he could send for a local whore and spend the night with her, but even the very idea sat uncomfortably with him. How could he even consider another woman, when he longed so desperately for his wife, for his Anne?
He leaned back in the velvet armchair. His arm was raised, his elbow resting on the armrest. His forehead, creasing with worry, rested in his palm. His eyes were closed. He was wishing he could sleep. He was wishing for peace, for Anne, and for solutions to the problems that plagued him and disturbed his slumber.
He sat until after the sun rose, and the inevitable knock at his door sounded not long after six o'clock.
"Enter." He said quietly. A young boy pushed open the heavy oak door and peeped his head around the frame.
"Your highness, do you desire breakfast? Or would you rather a late start today?" He asked, attempting - and failing - to mask the pity in his eyes. Richard hated that, their pity. He wanted it not.
"No. Prepare me a bath. There is no use in a late start, I cannot possibly sleep."
The squire nodded. He left the room silently, hurrying down the corridors to carry out the king's orders.
The moment he had gone, Richard rose from his chair and dressed himself quickly. He abhorred the insistence of the squires to help him dress. He had managed for thirty-one years before he had became king and assumed the throne. He was pretty damn sure he was able to dress himself.
"They're trying to help." Anne had said when he spoke to her of it in the past.
"I know," Richard had replied. "But it's so bloody infuriating! Can I not button a doublet? Are my hands old and withered?!"
She had shook her head with a smile.
"It is to save your hands from performing menial tasks. After all, they are royal hands. They have more... important... duties to perform." She said gently.
She took one of his palms in her own. His were rough, with ink stains from signing papers and lingering scars from battles long past. Hers were soft and gentle. Her fingers stroked the life line in the centre of his palm. She traced it from the bottom of his fingers to his wrist, and when she was finished, she turned over his palm and straightened the rings on his fingers that he had twisted. He twisted his rings - particularly the one on his littlest finger - when he was nervous, when he was angry, when he was bored...734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡw1vX4ypLiE
The ruby on his little finger was facing to the right. Anne turned it. Richard laughed.
"What on this earth would I do without you?" He asked. She shrugged.
"You'd get along." She said nonchalantly. "Although..." She began. "You wouldn't look nearly as presentable." She continued mischievously. She straightened his collar as he laughed. He wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Aye, that is true." He admitted. She untangled herself from his arms, and left to sit on the grand four poster bed.
"Will your highness be joining me this evening?" She asked with a smile. Richard grinned.
"Of course, my love."
"He's an idiot." Francis said by Richard's side.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡv7MhmESphP
It was dark, and Richard sat deep in conversation with his closest friends and advisors - Francis Lovell, Richard Ratcliffe and William Catesby.
"Hastings is a traitor." Catesby said bluntly. "Not an idiot, Francis."
Francis' eyes burned.
"I didn't mean he isn't a traitor. I'm not defending the man." He said sharply. Richard sighed.
"The pair of you stop your bickering. You are starting to sound like an old married couple, for Christ's sake."
His head was in his hands, as it usually was when he was stressed or concerned. Catesby had informed him that Hastings, a man whom Richard had known since childhood, a man whom had been so loyal to his family, had been conspiring against him. Richard was still new to the throne. He could not afford to allow traitors to live.
"You know what you have to do, Richard." Ratcliffe spoke up from the corner. Richard shook his head.
"I know." He replied grimly.
The next morning, Hastings was dragged from a council meeting and executed immediately. No trial. No nothing.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡaX8n5RqmVD
Richard was exhausted.
"What on earth did you think you were doing?!" Anne said angrily in his chambers. She had been waiting for him, and when he entered she immediately began calling him out on his mistakes. "Without a trial?!"734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwQQZEtUUVC
She had fire in her eyes and venom in her tone. She was furious.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9vxtNoAM99
"I had to, Anne." Richard said wearily. "The man would have deposed me. Deposed us."
"Maybe that wouldn't be such a terrible thing." She said bitterly. Anne had never wanted to be queen. She was happy when it was Richard's brother on the throne, when they lived on their estate in Yorkshire with their own son and Richard's two bastard children.
Richard took her by the shoulders and looked her deep in the eyes.
"No." He said bluntly. "They would not allow me to live. I would be executed, and you... you would either be sent to a nunnery or married off to someone else or poisoned in secret in the Tower." He looked into her brown irises, wordlessly begging her to understand. "I did this to protect us. To protect you."
She sniffed. She knew arguing further would achieve nothing.
"I need you with me on this, Anne." Richard begged.
She sighed heavily before nodding silently.
"Where else would I be, if not with you?" She replied.
He breathed in relief, kissing the top of her forehead.
"Anne?" He asked as she turned to leave. She paused and turned. "You know I love you, don't you?"
"Yes, Richard." She said softly. Her anger appeared to have melted. "I love you too, my love."
He nodded, watching her leave.
Richard abruptly stopped himself from reliving the memories of the recent past. It was no use. Half the people in them were dead anyway.
The squire returned.
"Your bath is ready, sire." He said with a bow of the head. Richard thanked the boy.
He went for his bath, allowing the hot water to soothe the pain in his back. He had developed the problem in his teenage years. His spine had begun to curve, and now it bent sharply to the right. Anne had never minded.
"Is it hurting again?" She would ask. Richard would try to ignore it, to say it wasn't that bad, but she always knew. She would have the large copper bathtub brought to their bedroom before he was king or to his chambers after he was. She would have it filled with scalding hot water, because that was exactly how Richard liked it. She would stay whilst he lay there, kneeling by the side of the tub. She would occasionally dip her fingers in the water, admiring the ripples she made. 734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ9XPUbHjdfS
If she was in an exceptionally good mood, she would flick the droplets at her husband. Richard recalled with a smile one particular time when he had kneeled in the tub, taken her by the waist and pulled her - fully clothed - into the water with him. They had both collapsed in laughter, especially when the squires entered to take away the bath and saw their king and queen acting like children in the water.
Richard leaned back against the copper. Anne was not here now. He longed for her presence, and vowed that later today he would go to her and demand that the doctors allow him to see her. Contagious or not, Richard thought, I will see my wife.
"Your highness, perhaps it is best for only a brief visit." The doctor, William Hobbys, advised. Richard sighed stubbornly.
"I shall stay as long as I wish." He said bluntly. Hobbys dare not argue. Richard might be a fair King, but he did not allow himself to be crossed.
Hobbys nodded and opened the door to allow the king inside. Hobbys motioned to the maidservants, instructing them to leave.
"There is nothing more we can do, sire." Hobbys said tentatively. Richard nodded stiffly, kneeling by his wife's bed. "It is consumption... she... ah... may not have long." He said softly. Richard breathed in deeply, swallowed, and nodded. He had expected nothing else. Anne had been deteriorating for months.
She was lay in the large four-poster bed. Her limp frame was propped up by at least a dozen cushions and pillows, and the thick blankets used to keep her warm almost buried her beneath their weight.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡOAJUBmTLM7
The image of her stabbed at Richard's gut. He brushed a stray dark hair from her forehead, and almost recoiled at the temperature of her. She was running a fever, and a bloody high one at that. He was going to send for the doctor, but he knew they would say any effort would be pointless. Instead, he pulled out a kerchief from his own doublet and dipped it into the jug of water lying by her bed. He dabbed it on her forehead, and her eyelids fluttered.
"Richard," She muttered. He smiled weakly as her eyes opened fully. "You're here. The doctors... they let you in."
"A whole army couldn't stop me." He whispered. She attempted a smile, but was struck with violent coughs. Her whole chest vibrated, and her hand, encased in Richard's palm, gripped him tighter whilst the coughing fit endured. Richard attempted to mask his worry, but succumbed to panic when his wife raised a handkerchief to her mouth during a cough and when she brought it away, it was spattered with blood.
She saw his concern, and shook her head.
"I'll be fine." She insisted. Richard said nothing.
"Anne," He said softly after what felt like an eternity. "Don't leave me." He said almost inaudibly. Tears were burning in his eyes.
Anne smiled.
"I won't." She said. Richard choked on a small laugh. He sniffed. "Not if I can help it, at least." She added. Richard smiled sadly.
"I need you."
"No you don't." She said. It was her turn to attempt a laugh. "You will be the most fair king this land has ever seen. You don't need me. You can do brilliantly all on your own."
"I can't rule without you." Richard insisted.
Anne tried to scoff, but, again, it caught in her throat and turned into spasms of coughs.
"I can't laugh with anyone but you. I can't be me with anyone but you." He said. Anne was silent. "I need you." He said again, begging her to understand, as if his words alone could save her.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡW00GmQRWW9
"I love you." She said. Richard gripped her hand tighter, hoping to anchor her to this world. Her eyes had grown dull.
"Anne, no," He began. "Please," he said, more desperately now. "I beg you. Don't... don't. I am... I am nothing without you."
He was surprised she was not crying out in pain, he was amazed that his grip was not breaking the bones in her hand. He was holding her so tightly, praying so fervently that he could heal her.
Then suddenly the room grew dark. The sun outside had gone out. It was covered, as though God had thrown a blanket over it. Richard panicked. What in the hell?734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbqnU5xyPJE
He turned to Anne for her to reassure him that the phenomenon was real, that he wasn't going mad, but when he turned, he saw her limp arm over the bed covers and her parted lips as she took her last breath.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡVickUYJ8ik
He clenched his fists as the sun emerged again. The tears rolled freely down his cheeks.
"Sire, the sun..." Hobbys said, bursting into the room. He stopped short when he saw the scene before him. The queen, her eyes closed and her chest unmoving, and the king, deep in the throes of grief, begging her to come back to him.
Hobbys turned and gently closed the door on the cries of the king. Even with the door closed, the doctor could hear from outside the heart wrenching sobs and the repetitions of a desperate, broken man that had lost the last thing in the world that meant anything to him.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbv5bouons2
"I am nothing, Anne. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing."
A/N - Richard III loved Anne Neville dearly. There was a solar eclipse at the moment she died, and it was said to be a sign from God. This prompt reminded me of this couple because without Anne, Richard really was nothing. His son and heir had died not too long before, and without a wife he had no hope of having another heir. The throne remained perilously insecure and it simply didn't look good after Anne's death. He was facing invasion from Henry Tudor, and just six months after her death he died in battle and lost the crown.734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKIR8lN8Bo9
(Title from the song Just Past The Point of Breaking by Fatherson.)734Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡAuqaqG4Tmi
