[FICATHON] An Excellent Moral, for lareinenoire
Title: An Excellent Moral
Author: angevin2
Play: Richard III
Recipient: lareinenoire
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Princess Elizabeth, Jane Shore
Rating: gen, nothing objectionable.
Notes: Your real fic will be up on Saturday. This flashfic was written really quickly in the interests of everyone getting a little something off the bat. Title is actually from Henry V.
Summary: Princess Elizabeth gets advice on queenship from an odd source.
When her mother came to tell her that she would be the next Queen of England, Elizabeth was paging listlessly through her book of hours and wondering if she could ever get used to reading it all the time when she went into the convent like Mother said she would.
It was not as though the world outside of sanctuary had much to offer her. Her father was dead, and her wicked uncle Richard, like a serpent poised to sting, had coiled himself about the kingdom and struck to the death her brothers, her uncles, her aunt; she had no illusions that she and her sisters, her mother and her grandmother, would truly escape his venom.
She pictured her mother, gone mad like old Queen Margaret. It made her smile, a little. Then it made her cry.
She thought of the beggar-woman she had met in the streets of London on the way to sanctuary; the woman knelt at her feet with the usual abjectness, but she fixed her blue eyes on Elizabeth with an intensity quite incongruous in someone of her station.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, "but I haven't any alms to give you."
"I'm not looking for alms," said the woman, and seized her hands. "I only know that you will be Queen someday, and I want to tell you how it is."
"How can you know that?" Elizabeth said, drawing back in astonishment.
"I was not a queen," said the woman, "but I ruled like one."
"How can you have been like a queen?" Elizabeth was appalled.
"Dame Fortune is also a queen," the woman said, her lips twisting into something like a smile before she continued, "but, no, I don't suppose this was wholly her fault."
"What are you talking about?"
"Let me tell you, your Highness, how it is, so that when you are Queen you'll know. It's not about you, your Highness. They don't see you at all. When you love a powerful man, you can convince him to help others in your name, and men will say he is great and good, and if you outlive him, Dame Fortune turns her wheel, and there you are at the bottom."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "But you've still helped them," she said.
"It's true," the woman answered.
"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked.
"My name is Elizabeth, like yours," she said. "But men call me Jane."
At that point, Mother and Grandam caught up to her and bustled her off, saying that it was no time to talk to strange people on the London streets. You could never tell who was a spy, these days. But Elizabeth thought of the encounter often, and so she had had some time to prepare for it when Mother came to her to tell her that she was to marry Richmond.
She did not fear Fortune's wheel. She felt that she had already seen the bottom.
Author: angevin2
Play: Richard III
Recipient: lareinenoire
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Princess Elizabeth, Jane Shore
Rating: gen, nothing objectionable.
Notes: Your real fic will be up on Saturday. This flashfic was written really quickly in the interests of everyone getting a little something off the bat. Title is actually from Henry V.
Summary: Princess Elizabeth gets advice on queenship from an odd source.
When her mother came to tell her that she would be the next Queen of England, Elizabeth was paging listlessly through her book of hours and wondering if she could ever get used to reading it all the time when she went into the convent like Mother said she would.
It was not as though the world outside of sanctuary had much to offer her. Her father was dead, and her wicked uncle Richard, like a serpent poised to sting, had coiled himself about the kingdom and struck to the death her brothers, her uncles, her aunt; she had no illusions that she and her sisters, her mother and her grandmother, would truly escape his venom.
She pictured her mother, gone mad like old Queen Margaret. It made her smile, a little. Then it made her cry.
She thought of the beggar-woman she had met in the streets of London on the way to sanctuary; the woman knelt at her feet with the usual abjectness, but she fixed her blue eyes on Elizabeth with an intensity quite incongruous in someone of her station.
"I'm sorry," Elizabeth said, "but I haven't any alms to give you."
"I'm not looking for alms," said the woman, and seized her hands. "I only know that you will be Queen someday, and I want to tell you how it is."
"How can you know that?" Elizabeth said, drawing back in astonishment.
"I was not a queen," said the woman, "but I ruled like one."
"How can you have been like a queen?" Elizabeth was appalled.
"Dame Fortune is also a queen," the woman said, her lips twisting into something like a smile before she continued, "but, no, I don't suppose this was wholly her fault."
"What are you talking about?"
"Let me tell you, your Highness, how it is, so that when you are Queen you'll know. It's not about you, your Highness. They don't see you at all. When you love a powerful man, you can convince him to help others in your name, and men will say he is great and good, and if you outlive him, Dame Fortune turns her wheel, and there you are at the bottom."
Elizabeth was silent for a moment. "But you've still helped them," she said.
"It's true," the woman answered.
"Who are you?" Elizabeth asked.
"My name is Elizabeth, like yours," she said. "But men call me Jane."
At that point, Mother and Grandam caught up to her and bustled her off, saying that it was no time to talk to strange people on the London streets. You could never tell who was a spy, these days. But Elizabeth thought of the encounter often, and so she had had some time to prepare for it when Mother came to her to tell her that she was to marry Richmond.
She did not fear Fortune's wheel. She felt that she had already seen the bottom.