Work Text:
Summer of 1472
“What is it?”
Richard smiled as he looked down and stroke the bed sheets. He just felt so happy. He felt full of hope. Ever since the war, he thought that there would be no way that he could be familiar to his beloved Anne. But everything changed. Now it was different
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Summer of 1468
It was a beautiful day. The sun glimmered, while the birds sang their song to the sun. She had taken a walk around the garden on her own, while her Lady Mother watched her from afar.
She loved taking walks through the gardens. She liked to see the butterflies, and the dragonflies. She loved to see the bees resting in the flowers. As a summer child, she loved it. Spring had made them grow. Now, during summer, she felt that she could enjoy the view, and scent.
From the window, the young Duke of Gloucester saw her as she danced. He could not help it but to smile. She danced as if no one was watching her. He felt a little guilty since he was watching her. At the same time, there was no guilt. It was a pretty sight. She was a rose, the most beautiful of roses in that garden, or in any garden in England.
He took a step back from the window and turned around. There he saw his brother the King who smiled at him.
“Why are you smiling, Dickon?” The King asked him.
“Nothing, brother.” Richard smiled, “May I be excused?”
The king extended his hand pointing towards the door, “Yes you may, Dickon.”
It felt good to have peace back in England. His brother George had calmed, though the Queen was still angry because of the deaths of her brother and Father. Still, he enjoyed the peace in England, and he prayed that it lasted long.
It was not usual to the Lady Anne Neville to be at court. The Earl of Warwick liked her to be in the North, with her mother so she could be away from the sinful ways of the Court. Yet, Anne could never be sinful in his eyes. Many would say that she was a little vain to dance in a garden, but he knew that she was just happy to be around beautiful flowers. He made his way to the garden. First, he stopped to and kissed the hand of Lady Nan, who in the past acted like his second mother.
“May I speak with the Lady Anne?” Richard asked Anne’s Lady Mother.
“What of?” The Countess asked.
“I– I saw her from the window which reminded me from my time at Middleham. I wish to see if she remembers.” The young duke said.
The countess nodded at the young duke. The countess was not dumb. She new him very well, and she was well aware of his affections towards her daughter.
“Tell her to come.” Lady Nan said, “It is time for prayer.”
Richard made his way to the little maze. He could clearly see Anne. Her hair fell back in soft curls. It was loose, and she was only wearing a small diadem, probably of gold. He did not know. Maybe it was of silver and her hair reflected its shine to it.
“Lady Anne!” He called for her.
The Lady Anne turned back and dropped in a little curtsey.
“I am sorry for startling you.” Richard said.
“Richard. I have not seen you–”
“I know. Time has passed. I am glad that you are at court.”
Anne really did not know what to say. For a time, she thought he would be her husband and that she would be his beloved duchess. It was different now. Isabel got to be a duchess. She was still only Lady Anne.
“No for much longer, Your Grace.”
“Since when you call me Your Grace, Lady Anne?”
Anne did not answered.
He took the liberty to push a curl that fell in front of her eye back, hooking it to her ear.
Her hair was soft. It had not changed. It instantly took him back when he was being trained at Middleham and he would pull her curls just to bother her. No girl in his life had ever dared to hit him or to push him to the floor. The lady in front of him had dared. Probably would if he pulled her hair now.
“Huh?”
Anne did not answered his question. Instead, she just smiled.
“I saw you dancing.” Richard said, “It reminded me when Lady Nan would supervises the dances.”
“You should have not watched me. You violated my privacy, Dickon.”
Dickon. She called him Dickon.
“Dickon?”
“Then Your Grace!”
“No!” Richard shook his head, “Dickon is fine. Dickon is perfect. Here!” He said as he pulled a rose from, cutting it with his bare fingers.
It was a white rose stained with a little bit of blood.
“A White Rose of York for the Lady Anne of Warwick.” He smiled.
“Thank you.” Anne said as she took the rose, “But you are bleeding.”
“Oh it is okay. Knights must have scars to prove to their damsels that they are strong.”
“But you are already strong.” Lady Anne said as she gave him her handkerchief, “Why would you need to prove it?”
“Thank you, Lady Anne.” He said, “For the handkerchief. I would guard it always against my heart. As for your my need to prove it. Ladies, damsels, they must always know that their is a gallant knight fighting for her.”
“Who are you fighting for?” Anne asked. Richard smiled at her innocence. It was pretty. He wanted to kiss her, maybe steal a little of her innocence perhaps.
“A really pretty lady.”
“Do you know her well?” Anne asked.
“Oh I do. Better than myself, I may swear.”
Anne felt a little pain, which she disguised by pressing her finger against one of the thorns. She winced in pain, which Richard quickly noticed.
“Here.” He said as he looked inside of his pocket. He took the rose and placed it on the rose bush. With his handkerchief, he took her hand and wrapped his handkerchief around her finger which he then placed a tender kiss as he looked at her, straight in her eyes.
“It will heal soon.” He told her.
“I should go to my Lady Mother.” Anne said, forgetting the rose. She took hold of her skirt and ran towards her Mother. He remembered the old days, and he wished he could have more of those days. He took the rose, and then went back up to his chambers. He placed the rose inside of one of his books and the handkerchief, he just placed it in his pocket.
“Lady Anne.” He smiled.
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“Richard, was is it?” He looked up from the bed and smiled at her. Her long hair was covering her naked breasts as she leaned towards him.
“I was thinking about something, Anne.” Richard smiled.
“What was it?” Anne asked. As a newlywed bride she felt curiosity on her husband’s thoughts.
“You.” Richard said as he pushed her hair back, “I am always thinking about you Anne. Some things, Anne, sometimes they never change.”