Chapter Text
June 1496 - Florence, Republic of Florence
After fighting countless battles, Harry believed he has had a rather large number of near-death experiences. It was not until he was actively bleeding out on his bed, life slowly filtering out of his corporeal form that he realized he had been grossly wrong. Thinking back on it now, Harry knows he was just moments away from death. He was lying there helplessly, the children he nearly gave his life for in a different room. But he was lucky, luckier than most people because he has a husband who would do even the craziest thing possible to save his life.
"You won't be an easy one, will you?" Harry chuckles as he tries to once again tuck Clarissa's hand into her blanket. "Refusing to be tamed from the very beginning, are you?"
Clarissa coos and blinks at Harry. He gives up trying to swaddle her properly and picks her out of her crib. Technically, he's still on bed rest. If anyone saw him walking right now, they would probably call him a heretic. But he's restless, considering he has fuck all to do but spend time with Fleur and Clarissa and infants aren't much fun. He would have his hands full if he took care of them alone but of course, he doesn't. He's a King, he's never had to change out a soiled diaper. To be quite honest, he's not sure he would even know how.
"I love you so much," Harry whispers as he holds Clarissa close to his chest and kisses the top of her head. "Even if you nearly killed me. It's not your fault, baby. Thankfully, your Papa wanted me to stay with all of you for many more years and he wasn't afraid to chance making a foolish decision. I can't even imagine how miserable he would've been if I had died."
He sets Clarissa down next to Fleur on the bed and sits down in front of them.
"But I'm still here so I don't have to think about that, do I?" Harry chuckles softly and lets Fleur grab his pointer finger. "I'm going to be here and watch you grow big and strong. You're going to be so smart and kind and incredible. I'm never going anywhere, sweethearts, I promise you that. I never wanted to leave you. Even when I was scared when I had found out, well, about just one of you being on the way. I was miserable at times but I was happy too. That is life, isn't it? Things aren't perfect. Not always, anyway. You are my blood, my flesh, I could only be happy to have you here. You came to be out of love and not duty. That is important to remember. You are my duty, some close-minded people would argue my only duty as a King, but to me, everything is a choice. And I made that choice," Harry's heart still for a brief moment when he remembers drinking from that chalice two weeks ago. "I have also made a choice that might hurt me one day."
Harry realizes that not only does he get to see his children grow up, he will also see them grow old and die. It is aeons away now but he already knows how much it will hurt, seeing the children he brought into this world, seeing the children he bled and nearly died for, grow weathered with age and eventually leave this world for good, while Harry will be stuck in time, never getting older. He wants to doubt Nadežda's spell but he has seen enough magic in his life not to doubt it.
"I'm going to cherish every second with you, my darlings," Harry says quietly and kisses Fleur and then Clarissa. "With Philippa and Cassian too. Time is relentless and unforgiving and before I know it, you're all grown up living your own life. God knows how quickly the last few years have passed. Philippa was just a little girl running around, learning how to speak and now she's learning how to be a Queen. Unfortunately, with how things have changed, she will have to ascend to the throne much earlier than she would've normally. Papa and I will tell you everything one day. We won't leave you so soon. We will find a way."
Harry moves the babies up the bed and lies down too, figuring that soon enough someone's going to come check up on him. He lies on his side and watches the girls squirm around, cooing from time to time. He's so happy to be able to do this. Before Zayn brought in Nadežda, Harry was convinced he was going to die before he even got to hold Clarissa. Fleur was in his arms just for a short moment too. Now he's healthy and he can be with his children as much as he likes.
Fleur starts fussing around and within moments she starts crying.
"Oh, darling," Harry frowns and picks her up, sitting up in the bed and rocking her against his chest. "Don't cry, it's alright. Are you hungry? You were fed not that long ago. Are you tired, is that it?"
Of course, at barely two weeks of age, Fleur doesn't answer him. But she does fall asleep on Harry's chest a short moment later and that's a response enough.
The door opens then and Harry expects one of the wetnurses or someone but it's Philippa coming into the room.
"Hello, Father," she asks quietly, seeing that the babies are both asleep. "Can I come in?"
"Of course, sweetheart," Harry smiles at her. "Come on in. You can sit on the other side of the bed, but be careful so you don't wake Clarissa."
Philippa joins them on the bed, being very careful as she climbs up on it.
"Daddy?" Philippa asks, her face a little sad.
"What is it, baby?" Harry asks her, frowning now. "Are you alright?"
"I am," Philippa nods a little. "I came from my lessons and I was told I would need to marry if I want to be the Queen or else Cassian would be the ruler because he's a boy."
"What?" Harry squawks, before quickly realising that he has two sleeping babies in the room. "Who told you that, Philippa? That is false, completely false. Before your brother was born, we issued a new decree that is law and cannot be broken, that no matter if you're a girl or a boy, if you're the firstborn, you will be on the throne. You will be the Queen, darling, after Papa and I are gone, no matter what. You could have twenty brothers and you would still be the Queen. You don't need to marry anyone either. There is no rule about it. Who told you such nonsense?"
"Messer Ignacio," Philippa replies. "He said that he thinks it's useless for a woman to learn about being a ruler but that you and Papa are paying him a lot so he has to teach me."
"Oh God," Harry scoffs. "That old bastard. You will not see him again, honey, don't worry about it. Was he ever a ruler? No. Don't listen to such drivel. You will have better teachers when we are back in England."
"I want Grandma Melisende to teach me about being a Queen," Philippa says. "She was a Queen, wasn't she?"
Harry smiles, silently proud of how smart his daughter is. "Yes, she was. She technically still is because your Papa, her son, is the King now. But I think she would be very happy to teach you. She's smarter than all these teachers either way. And I do believe Aunt Helen would gladly give you some sword-fighting lessons. She's one of the best fighters I've ever raised a sword against."
"Thank you," Philippa smiles, her face lighting up. "When did you start learning how to be a ruler, Father?"
"Well," Harry sighs. "I was quite young. My Father died when I was around ten years old. But it was only after your Papa's Father died in the war that your Grandma made me learn about politics and train to fight in the war. I think I was twelve. But as a part of any regular education, I started with the general things your brother is learning when I was maybe six. You started learning things a bit earlier but it was only because you wanted to do."
"Did I?" Philippa frowns a little. "I don't remember it."
"Yes, you did," Harry smiles and reaches over with one hand to brush her hair out of her face. "One evening when I was reading you a story you said you want to know how to do it yourself because you always see Papa and I reading and you wanted to know how. That's why I got you a teacher when you were four. Then I got you some more because I was maybe a little too excited about how smart you were."
"Oh, alright," Philippa nods. "Father?"
"Yes?"
"How are babies made?" Philippa asks with a completely innocent face, ready to learn more as she always does when she bombards her parents with questions her teachers won't answer.
"Oh, darling," Harry laughs softly. "Do you really want to know?"
"Yes," Philippa looks at him as if he's fallen out of a tree. "I would not have asked otherwise."
"Alright," Harry breathes in deeply, trying to come up with a way how to tell his eight-year-old daughter a child-appropriate story of procreation. "See, when two people love each other very much, sometimes they... do things and they make a baby. Then the baby is growing a belly for nine months and then it comes out. But it's only for grown-ups, sweetheart."
"I had biology lessons, Father," Philippa frowns a little. "Girls and boys are different so how do they make a baby? You and Papa are both boys. How does it work?"
Harry sighs deeply. "Dear Lord, Philippa. You're too smart for your age. Yes, girls and boys are different and because they are different they can make a baby with their... different parts. And some boys, like me, can also have babies. I promise I will explain it to you once you are older."
"It's fine," Philippa shrugs. "I will ask Grandma once we are home."
Harry raises his brows but he doesn't say anything. Frankly, he's amused. And pretty sure that Melisende will explain the circle of life better to Philippa than he could ever.
"I don't want babies, anyway," Philippa continues as she plays some made-up game with her own fingers "It's scary and dangerous. I was just curious. I want to knows things, I don't want to be clueless. I saw how Clarissa was born and it was so bloody. And you were in pain, Daddy. I don't want to go through that. I would rather lose a fight and have a cool scar on my face."
Harry can't help but laugh. "It's your decision, darling. But you don't have to be scared, it's natural. It hurts, yes, but when you were born, it was really easy, actually. It's not always as hard as what you saw. There were two babies then and it's not very common."
"Perhaps," Philippa lets on. "But I will have to rule a Kingdom, I don't want to risk it."
"It seems like you're already smarter than your Papa and I," Harry laughs a little. The smile quickly drops from his face, however. "Do you want to rule, Philippa? Or do you feel like you have to?"
Philippa looks at Harry, her face open and honest. "I want to. I think it's really exciting. You and Papa fought all these wars and you're always meeting people and travelling. I want to be a good Queen, like you two are. I want to take care of our people, protect them from wars and poverty and famine. I can see that both you and Papa care about England a lot. You also care about each other. And you care about me and Cassian. The babies too now. My friends say they never spend much time with their parents but we do. When those bad men took us, you found us. Cassian was crying so much but I knew you would come for us. I was telling him all the time that Papa and Daddy will find us."
Harry bites the inside of his cheek because tears are threatening to spill out of his eyes. "I love you so, so much, Philippa," Harry whispers and carefully leans over to Philippa and kisses her face multiple times. "You are such a special girl. I'm so proud of you. You're gonna be a wonderful Queen one day. I love you."
"I love you too, Daddy," Philippa says and clumsily hugs Harry over the babies. "I just want to be like you and Papa. And Grandmother too because people listen to her more than to you two."
Harry chuckles wetly. "Yes, they do. She can be scary, right?"
"Not really," Philippa muses.
"Well, I was scared of her when I first married your Papa," Harry says. "But that's a very long story for another day. Do you want some lunch? We can let the babies sleep and have the servants bring us lunch here."
"Alright," Philippa agrees easily.
Harry gets out of the bed with Fleur still sleeping peacefully against his chest and tucks her into her crib. Philippa, being possibly the best person ever born, carefully hands Harry Clarissa from the bed. He puts her into her own crib and gets back to bed.
"Can we read for a bit together first?" Philippa asks.
"Of course," Harry gives her a smile and invites Philippe to lay down next to him. She joins his, tucking herself into his side and Harry hugs her with one arm, holding the book open in front of them with his other hand.
From the very first moment she was born, in the middle of a battle, Harry knew that Philippa was special. With each and every day, she continues to prove it and honestly, Harry can't wait to watch her rule and flourish even more.
xxx
The following week, Harry and Zayn plan to sneak out of the Medici Palazzo in the middle of the night. It's both because Harry is being driven stir crazy thanks to Bernadette and her bed rest rule, and to see how the preparations for the christening of Fleur and Clarissa are going.
Harry was napping with the girls dozing off on his chest, an arm wrapped protectively underneath their bums when Zayn woke him up in the middle of the night, already dressed in his black cloak. They got a wetnurse to watch the babies, coming up with the story about how Bernadette is being too careful with everything and that Harry feels fine now to leave for a little while, but in secret so he doesn't piss off Bernadette. Honestly, it would only end up in her imposing even stricter bed rest on him and worst-case scenario, she would want to do a physical examination to see if he's fine. She would be rather shocked to see that there is not a single trace on his body of the event that nearly took his life.
"Do you think we could get some wine somewhere?" Harry asks Zayn as they walk through the dark streets of Florence, sneaking around like that one time on their first visit to the city. "Bernadette doesn't let me have any, she says it could make me bleed again. She's not wrong, if I was at risk of that. But I'm healthier than I've ever been."
"I wouldn't risk going to a tavern," Zayn replies. "They would certainly recognize us. I could ask for some and if she sees, I'll say it was just mine."
"There would be two cups then," Harry says.
"Then we'll drink from one," Zayn rolls his eyes with a smile. "Are you too prudish to exchange spit with me, Virgin Mary?"
"We've exchanged way more than just spit before," Harry laughs. "I hope I don't go to hell for this but how awful was that to her? God just making her pregnant out of nowhere. How is that fair? The least he could've done was like, come down to Earth and properly sleep with her."
"Isn't fucking a sin?" Zayn muses. "Unless it's with the intent to conceive a child? Or is it still sin? I will admit that I have been slacking on the Bible study during my entire youth. My Mother isn't particularly religious, apart from the bit where the King is anointed by God. In that case, God is her best friend and of fucking course he would pick her son."
"We're going to hell then," Harry declares and then sighs. "Ever since... you know, I have been thinking about just how life works. We are literally fucking immortal. Do we need to adhere to any religion? Is it even real? I have not seen a single miracle performed by God or an angel but I have seen a good deal of magic in my life. Magic that is based on ancient religion that the church views as evil. So what is the truth?"
"This would get you beheaded, my love, if someone heard," Zayn chuckles a little. "I understand what you mean. I have been thinking about the same thing. We may never see what happens after death."
Harry doesn't reply. Both because it hurts to think about this particular topic a bit too much and because they're nearing the Duomo. Lorenzo gave them a key he has for his personal use and they get in through a side door that opens directly to the stairs to the cupola. They're not here to climb all those steps tonight. Maybe one day, but not tonight. They walk into the main part of the cathedral, seeing its massive interior illuminated only by a few torches. They've been inside many times but never in such darkness.
They come to stand underneath the dome, just a few meters in front of the altar. The walls of the dome are bare, disturbingly so.
"They should paint something on the inside of the dome," Zayn notes offhandedly as he looks up. "Maybe we could commission some young artist with it as a gift of gratitude to the Medicis."
"Would they let outsiders mess with their city like that?" Harry asks. "But perhaps if we asked Sandro and he recommended someone from Florence. We could ask Lorenzo about it. Perhaps he would like the idea and show off his power even more."
"It's possible," Zayn agrees. "God, I wish we were home already."
"Soon, my love," Harry says and wraps himself around Zayn's back, nuzzling his face into his neck. "Should we go to the baptistery now?"
"We could, yes."
They detangle from one another, only to let their hands link together as they leave the Duomo and walk its length to the baptistery. The baptistery looks even more magnificent than the cathedral. The ceiling is covered in the gold mosaic and it's truly breathtaking.
"This is beautiful," Harry breathes out, his head tilted back as he observes the beauty of the domed ceiling. "I can't wait to see it in daylight."
"I've heard the cathedral in Venice looks like this," Zayn says as he wraps an arm around Harry's waist. "We could go see it one day. We have more than enough time."
Harry lets his head fall back down, his face dropping. He tries not to think about their limitless life but at times, he is faces with these unescapable instances.
"You know," Harry says, looking down at the floor. "I have been saying that I nearly lost my life but I have lost my life." He turns his head to Zayn, who is watching him intently. "We both have, Zayn. Our lives were meant to end in a few decades. We were meant to rule, grow old together, have grandchildren and then die, like anybody else. Now we are faced with this eternal existence that seemingly doesn't have an end. It doesn't have an end if we are careful enough, lucky enough. Please, do no think that I am blaming you." Harry puts a hand on Zayn's cheek. "I will forever be grateful that you saved my life, that you gave me the chance to see our children grow up. But now, we will both not only see them grow up but also die. It will be hard, it will be so hard but we cannot lose each other. We need to stick together. I know that forever is a very long time and I do not ask that of you, if you do not wish so. But we will need each other. We have already lost one child that didn't even get to live properly and we both remember how it hurt. We need to accept this new life together."
What Harry doesn't expect is Zayn grabbing his cheek gently and leaning in for a kiss. And of course, Harry never protests a kiss from the love of his life. Their lips move together in unison, a perfect dance and it sparks up feelings in Harry that were dormant for the couple of last months.
Zayn pulls away a little, their foreheads pressed together. "I've already accepted it. The moment Nadežda told me she could save your life and how she would do it, I accepted it. I know that one day, we will have to see our children grow old and pass away but we can get through it together, love. It will be at a point where they have all lived long and happy lives, and even if we will go on living, at least we will live with the knowledge that their lives were fulfilled. I will bear that pain because no pain could challenge the pain I would've felt if you had died."
"I love you," Harry whispers and kisses Zayn again vigorously. "I love you so fucking much," he gasps out between kisses, pushing their bodies together. "You're the love of my life, Zayn. You're my soul, my destiny."
"I'm so in love with you," Zayn whispers into Harry's lips in a short break for air as they kiss. "I would kill an army myself with a single sword before letting you die."
"I want to make love," Harry whispers, kissing up Zayn's cheek and neck. "It has been too long. Months and months without touching you properly. I've missed you so much. It was torture not being able to make love to you, not even wanting to because I felt weak and horrible."
"We can't do it here," Zayn chuckles softly and kisses Harry's cheekbone. "Wait a little while until we are back."
"Back in England?" Harry exclaims.
"No, you fool," Zayn laughs. "Back in the Palazzo. Where there are beds. Or would you rather do in here on the marble or on the hard pews in plain view of the altar?"
"Alright," Harry chuckles and kisses Zayn again. "We have waited long enough, a couple more minutes is nothing."
xxx
It's July when they finally return back to England. Smelling the humid, sea-heavy air again makes them more homesick than ever. But at last, they are home.
They arrive to Windsor around midday. Philippa and Cassian are restless, finally wanting to see Grandmother and frankly, Possie. When the carriage stops in front of the main entrance, they run out towards the welcome committee without a second thought.
"We're home," Harry says, sighing a little, looking over at the tall walls of Windsor castle. "I didn't think I would get to see this place again."
"We are home now," Zayn says and when Harry turns his head to him, he finds him watching him with a small smile. "Are you ready for peace again?"
"More than ever," Harry smiles and takes Zayn's hand and they leave the carriage together.
A rather small group of people is waiting for them, considering everything. They wanted to keep their return low-key until the official celebrations. A war was won after all. The people have missed their Kings. But now it's just a couple of their closest friends from court.
Melisende is crouching down and swarmed with hugs from Philippa and Cassian. Helen is standing near her with a gentle smile on her lips. There are a few people missing, like Frederick who has stayed over in France to 'help' Agnes with governing the territory and may or may not be planning to ask for her hand in marriage, even as she vehemently protests yet continues to sneak around with him. But it's enough for now.
"Finally, I can go on holiday," Melisende says as she stands up. "Have you boys finished playing war and are ready to take care of your Kingdom again?"
"Yes, we are done, Mother," Zayn laughs and hugs her. "We've all missed you. Of course, we are very much grateful for taking care of the Kingdom while we were gone."
"It would've been fun ten years ago," Melisende scoffs as she pulls away and brings in Harry for a hug. "How are you, dear? These crazy Italians sent me a letter that you were dying. Then, the following day, a different rider brings another one that you are completely fine."
"Oh, yes," Harry clears his throat awkwardly, pulling from the embrace. "They were exaggerating. I was bleeding for a while and they all tried to bury me already. I guess I'm at fault too because I was being dramatic and telling everyone I was dying. Thankfully, Zayn saved me from those thoughts and I'm more than alright."
They exchange a look and a secretive smile. They will tell Melisende one day but with her skepticism, it might take a lot of wine and persuation.
Helen hugs them so hard Harry nearly feels his ribs shifting. She was in France for a little while because she brought Philippa and Cassian over to them but it has been a long time since they've seen each other.
"I'm getting married in fall," Helen tells him with a smile. "She finally got through to me."
"Oh, I am so happy for you," Harry sighs and hugs her again.
Just at that, the babies wetnurses bring Fleur and Clarissa to them and they're all the talk from then on. Everyone groups around and tries to guess who looks like who more and so on and so on. It's quite entertaining to watch.
But then Harry notices a familiar figure standing by the entrance door. He looks over after glancing at familiar long, blonde hair and sees his Mother standing there, away from anyone, looking at him. When their eyes meet, she gives him a small uncertain smile. Harry's heart misses a beat before he quickly comes over to her and hugs her as hard as he can.
With all the hardships Julianna has brought into his life, all of it was done with only her best intentions. She can't be help accountable for the actions of other people or the results of things she did in good will. Harry has long forgiven her becase she is his Mother, he loves her and despite all the bad things, they have happy memories together as well.
"I have missed you so much," Harry says quietly into her shoulder. "I didn't think you would come back."
"Oh, my darling, of course I would," Julianna says and rubs Harry's back. "I have already missed so much time with you for foolishness. I am getting older with each day and I don't want you to remember me as the woman who brought the man who nearly killed you into your life. I want my grandchildren to remember me once I'm gone. I want them to know me, not only from stories. I love you and I am sorry for everything that I have done to you. I am sorry for not being there for you when you needed me. I will never make those mistakes again."
"I am happy you're back," Harry says sincerely when he pulls away, their hands still linked together. "I have already forgiven you, Mother. I just wanted you here, no matter the past. I know now that you never meant to harm me."
Julianna searches his face for a while before lifting her right hand and cupping Harry's cheek. "You have changed. I can see that you are a different man than you were before you left."
"I am," Harry agrees. "A lot has happened. A lot has changed. I will tell you about it soon and you might not believe me, but I am hoping you will."
"You are a good man, Harry," Julianna smiles at him, caressing his cheekbone. "All I ever wanted for you is to be good and happy. As long as you have that, I could not wish for anything else."
"Are you happy, Mother?" Harry asks, squeezing her hand gently.
"I am now," Julianna smiles lightly. "I will do better than before."
Harry just smiles a little. "I believe I have two more granddaughters for you to meet."
He gets a servant to bring him Fleur and Clarissa too a moment later. Harry lets Julianna gold Fleur, who's watching everything with wide blue eyes that seem like they contain whole universe.
"I think Fleur will have your hair," Harry chuckles as he takes Clarissa from the servant. "Either way, they're both beautiful. Absolutely lovely."
"That they are," Julianna laughs and gently plays with Fleur's fingers. "But you were blonde when you were little and look at you know. The one thing you inherited from your late Father was the hair."
This is a moment Harry thought he would never get again - simply showing his children to his Mother and there being no tension in the air about the first baby that never got to live. He didn't think he would ever see his Mother smile at her grandchild without tears threatening to break. But there she is, having forgiven herself for the crimes of another man. Happy, with her family where she belongs.
As he watches Julianna talk to Fleur in a baby voice, he feels something by his legs. When Harry looks down, he sees none other than Possie, rubbing herself against Harry's shin.
"Oh my god, Possie," Harry gasps out and immediately squats down, adjusting Clarissa so he can pet Possie with one hand. Possie purrs so, so loudly and buts her hand against Harry's hand. He honestly feared that she would forget them all but he was truly underestimating her.
He truly couldn't have asked for a better reunion.
xxx
Later that night, they're finally in their bedroom alone. They're truly home now, as they can lie down in their own bed that has seen fights, laughter, love and much more. The day with their families and friends was incredible but as any other day, Harry and Zayn are happy to just be alone, together at the end of the night.
"Do you think we will get at least a semblance of peace now?" Harry sighs as he undresses. "Can we just sit on our thrones and rule without anything getting in the way?"
"The life of a King is never truly peaceful," Zayn says as he kisses Harry's neck from behind. "Our reign will not be easy, no reign is. However, I think that as long as we manage to end our reign without any more wars, we will be alright."
"I fear that we will leave Philippa with a crumbling Kingdom and a war on the brink of eruption," Harry sighs and puts his hands above Zayn's on his stomach. "We are leaving her the burden of the Crown, I want to make it as easy for her as possible."
"Philippa is smarter and stronger than both of us," Zayn mumbles into Harry's skin. "She could handle this war we just fought and she was just a child. Trust me, she will be fine. Besides, we will not be truly gone."
"I know," Harry breathes out. "I think she will hate us for a while, for lying to her. For leaving so soon. She might not speak to us."
"I'm sure of that," Zayn chuckles softly. "She will get over it, though. She is stubborn but she is smart too. We will be here to help but I do not think she will need our help. Perhaps with menial things such as asking about a lover or how to train a cat. Never with her reign."
Harry smiles. "She's going to be incredible."
"She is," Zayn says. "May the rest of our lives be too."
xxx
Present Day
"Today, on another episode of The Interesting Lives of English Kings and Queens, we will be taking a closer look at legends of English history and famously the most successful pair to ever rule over the British Isles, King Zayn I and King Harry I. Reiging from 1485 to 1515, England enjoyed three prosperous decades before their eldest daughter took over the throne and became Philippa I, starting another iconic reign that would end with her untimely death."
The TV presenter is walking around the courtyard of Windsor Castle, while dramatic music plays in the background. Then its cuts to footage of him walking through a street in York.
"They started off as enemies, destined to kill each other since the very moment they were born," the presenter says while standing in front of an old pub. "The wars of the roses raged for generations, the white rose fighting against the red rose, up until it changed with Harry and Zayn and it all started one fateful January night in this very pub, which now fittingly bears the name Pink Rose. The love story that has inspired countless legends, books, films and TV series started right here in York, when the two young men met unexpectedly and fell in love at first sight."
"Okay, that's bullshit, I wanted to kill you."
"Yeah, sure, and then twenty minutes later you went and fucked me."
"Shut up and watch. You put this crap on."
"Their love grew and flourished in York and then they continued their illicit affair with love letters, only one of which has been found. Fighting against their families, each one with their different goals, they didn't give up even as the date of the day when they were meant to face each other on the battlefield inched closer and closer."
The scene shifts to a field, the presenter standing in the middle of it. Fake sounds of a battle are soundtracking the footage.
"Right here, in near a small town called Market Bosworth, on May 22nd 1485, the Battle of Bosworth took place. Red rose against white rose. Lover against lover. But they were smarter than their feuding families. Historians argue that in their letters, they schemed together to stop the war. Neither Zayn nor Harry were hurt in the battle. They did face each other, raised their swords on one another but not a single bruise was inflicted by them. Later that night, they both ran away from their armies, their families. Together."
"No shit, historians aren't complete dickheads."
"Right? Who else would we run away with?"
The scene then shifts to an old abbey, the footage also cutting between images of the sea nearby.
"The following day, not yet Kings, Zayn and Harry arrived here, in Binham Abbey, where they were wed in secrecy by then Abbot Dominic. What they did was so bold and brave, no such thing has been done since by Kings or Queen in our history. With the simple oath of marriage and promise of love, two eighteen-year-old Princes ended a decades-long war that has costs thousands in both lives and pounds. Their love was stronger than iron and blood, stronger than two armies, stronger than their very inluential Mothers and the power-hungry Lord Warwick."
"We didn't realize at the time that our lives were literally a soap opera."
"I'm glad that Warwick is remembered for what he was - an utter cunt."
The present appears in Windsor again in the next cut. He is holding a white and red rose in his hand.
"Without doubts, they are the most interesting Kings that have ever ruled over England. They ended the Wars of the Roses. They inherited half of France, fought a war to keep it and won. Their bloodline managed to keep on for centuries, the current Queen being their direct descendant and still bearing the name they re-established with the birth of their daughter Philippa in 1488 - Plantagenet. Many quiestions remain even now that historians have been mulling over for at least decades. Was their marriage secretly orchestrated, causing this whole love story to be a sham?"
"As if, your mom nearly killed me."
"I've lived with you since before fucking America was discovered, if this was fake I would've poisoned you after our second kid."
"Why second?"
"An heir and a spare, duh."
The presenter continues, now inside the Great Hall in Windsor Castle.
"What about their curious friendship with the Medici family and other Florentians?"
"Uh... Florence was a cool place to be in and the Medicis were our mates?"
"Imagine having friends, can't relate."
The presenter now stands in front of multiple portraits of them and their children.
"Who were the Kings that perhaps saved England from ruin? Why were their minds so set on Philippa becoming Queen? What about the dark history of their first unborn son, poison and Lord Warwick? Was Queen Julianna involved? Were they truly faithfull to each other all thirty years of their marriage? Who was Lucrezia d'Medici then? We will try to answer these and many more questions on this episode. Join us as we follow the steps of the peace-preaching Kings that changed the course of English, and world history. From their youth to their untimely death in 1515, with just months between their deaths. This is The Interesting Lives of English Kings and Queens."
"God, what a load of bullshit. I'm turning this off."
"What do the historians even do? We've made it so fucking easy for them so they don't spread any bloody rumours about us."
"I don't know but I'm not gonna listen to them talk shit about us for an hour. Imagine if they made these fucking shows with the consideration that the people who it is about would watch it. It's like... bloody Daily Mail but historical and the dead people can't sue you for defamation of character."
"Remember that one documentary about Philippa? How they said she had syphilis?"
"Don't even remind me. What a load of shit."
"You know what's gonna be really fucking funny? When they go excavate our bones one day and they're not gonna find shit in the tombs."
"Oh, yeah. That's a conspiracy I'm gonna join in on. My take is that we faked our deaths, which is true, but then we lived out the rest of our days in a whore house in Florence, since they love to complain about our visits there so much."
"Good one, babe. You wanna go see a film tonight?"
"Yeah, but nothing dumb. I sacrificed enough brain cells for today watching this crap."