Ficlet: something in the heart (Shadow of the Tower/ Historical RPF)
Title: something in the heart
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 680
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth of York/Henry VII
Notes/Warnings: This fic is solely based on the portrayal of the two in the 1972 BBC drama. (And also borrows from some lines, mostly from ep 1 “Crown in Jeopardy” and ep13 “The King Without A Face”)..
Summary: Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, at the beginning and at the end…
For
akashasheiress in the 500 Prompts Meme - #9. I’m glad you’re on my side - Elizabeth of York/Henry VII (Shadow of the Tower)
Also written for the Trust & Vows square at
trope_bingo
***
“He’s not like the Plantagenets, he’s a Tudor. There’s nothing secret about the Plantagenets, they know what they want and they try to get it. But the Tudors... there is always something in their hearts which is a mystery to themselves and to everyone else.”
*
The promise to marry him was given long ago and not by her - she had no say in this or any other such arrangement. It was not the only one that was made; it is merely the one she is now fated to keep.
When she makes her own vows and promises to solemnise that agreement, she has very little more choice in the affair. She is Elizabeth of York: true heir to the throne of England, regardless of declarations made to the reverse. She knows it, she believes the people know it, and yet she is passed about the country in the protection of first one usurper and then another.
Yet there are still choices that are hers alone, and these no one can take from her. She may never be crowned Queen of England, but she will seek power of her own. It is a secret power, a matter of the heart, a paradoxical power that can be held only as long as it is never used. She marries the king, but she sees the face beneath the crown and reaches for the man.
He is careful in all things, but she will have his trust, his faith, his love, the match of that which she gives him. She knows her duty, she will do her own work and what she believes to be right, but she will also strive to be, at least in part, that security he has never had.
They are joined now: their hands close together against the uncertainties ahead, the enemies around them. That, she thinks, is but the start, and she has more to do.
And while some - nearly all the country - would say he has as little choice in this marriage as she, she believes that is not so. He is careful in all things, yes, and he has chosen her. In return, she chooses him.
She is a Plantagenet, after all: she knows what she wants and she will have it.
*
He is glad of her; in many ways, he is certain of her. He knows well her loyalty, her faith, her duty and discretion. His children are her children: she is his unshakeable ally there. His trust is not given easily, though he often says it is. He is alive only because he has been careful, so it has been all his life. And yet, and yet - so it goes, the doubt that hides in him.
A usurper fears all men, the true king need fear none. It is a truth he speaks and a lie that lives in him: he believes in his right to rule (and has not God proved it in his victory?), he has been told it is so since he was a child. The fear of the usurper, though, lurks in his heart, like a traitor: banished but never truly gone.
Yes, fear is the unacknowledged traitor in the heart and yet now it seems it also was a liar. She sees not the King, the faceless King, she sees the man who wears the crown, she looks upon his features that are by no means as decorative as the gold above and finds them dear.
He has the crown, has power, wealth; he holds the kingdom and its treasury, yet he believes more and more that nothing he gives to her, not jewels, not even land, can match the value of what she has given him.
He knows she never chose this, never chose him. He thinks she is not unhappy, does what he can to make that be so, but never delves too much further for fear of the answers he might find.
He is almost amused at the irony, that in these dark times, and after all these years, that something trembles within him at daring at last to trust in the unlikely truth: that he has her love, and always had.
When he first came here, years ago, she was in many ways the greatest treasure in his new kingdom; how odd it is to find that still is so.
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there:
Author: lost_spook
Rating: All ages
Word Count: 680
Characters/Pairings: Elizabeth of York/Henry VII
Notes/Warnings: This fic is solely based on the portrayal of the two in the 1972 BBC drama. (And also borrows from some lines, mostly from ep 1 “Crown in Jeopardy” and ep13 “The King Without A Face”)..
Summary: Henry VII and Elizabeth of York, at the beginning and at the end…
For
akashasheiress in the 500 Prompts Meme - #9. I’m glad you’re on my side - Elizabeth of York/Henry VII (Shadow of the Tower)
Also written for the Trust & Vows square at
trope_bingo
***
“He’s not like the Plantagenets, he’s a Tudor. There’s nothing secret about the Plantagenets, they know what they want and they try to get it. But the Tudors... there is always something in their hearts which is a mystery to themselves and to everyone else.”
*
The promise to marry him was given long ago and not by her - she had no say in this or any other such arrangement. It was not the only one that was made; it is merely the one she is now fated to keep.
When she makes her own vows and promises to solemnise that agreement, she has very little more choice in the affair. She is Elizabeth of York: true heir to the throne of England, regardless of declarations made to the reverse. She knows it, she believes the people know it, and yet she is passed about the country in the protection of first one usurper and then another.
Yet there are still choices that are hers alone, and these no one can take from her. She may never be crowned Queen of England, but she will seek power of her own. It is a secret power, a matter of the heart, a paradoxical power that can be held only as long as it is never used. She marries the king, but she sees the face beneath the crown and reaches for the man.
He is careful in all things, but she will have his trust, his faith, his love, the match of that which she gives him. She knows her duty, she will do her own work and what she believes to be right, but she will also strive to be, at least in part, that security he has never had.
They are joined now: their hands close together against the uncertainties ahead, the enemies around them. That, she thinks, is but the start, and she has more to do.
And while some - nearly all the country - would say he has as little choice in this marriage as she, she believes that is not so. He is careful in all things, yes, and he has chosen her. In return, she chooses him.
She is a Plantagenet, after all: she knows what she wants and she will have it.
*
He is glad of her; in many ways, he is certain of her. He knows well her loyalty, her faith, her duty and discretion. His children are her children: she is his unshakeable ally there. His trust is not given easily, though he often says it is. He is alive only because he has been careful, so it has been all his life. And yet, and yet - so it goes, the doubt that hides in him.
A usurper fears all men, the true king need fear none. It is a truth he speaks and a lie that lives in him: he believes in his right to rule (and has not God proved it in his victory?), he has been told it is so since he was a child. The fear of the usurper, though, lurks in his heart, like a traitor: banished but never truly gone.
Yes, fear is the unacknowledged traitor in the heart and yet now it seems it also was a liar. She sees not the King, the faceless King, she sees the man who wears the crown, she looks upon his features that are by no means as decorative as the gold above and finds them dear.
He has the crown, has power, wealth; he holds the kingdom and its treasury, yet he believes more and more that nothing he gives to her, not jewels, not even land, can match the value of what she has given him.
He knows she never chose this, never chose him. He thinks she is not unhappy, does what he can to make that be so, but never delves too much further for fear of the answers he might find.
He is almost amused at the irony, that in these dark times, and after all these years, that something trembles within him at daring at last to trust in the unlikely truth: that he has her love, and always had.
When he first came here, years ago, she was in many ways the greatest treasure in his new kingdom; how odd it is to find that still is so.
***
Crossposted from Dreamwidth -- Comments there: