Archive of Our Own

He had his pride and his light as a York. He carried on his father's name. He was the pride of his father and his mother's sin. But after what his mother had revealed to him just a moment ago, he felt he was nothing but a sin.

He had suffered much, but at least he had been a York. Now, he wasn't even that. Richard felt as though the sun stopped shining and dark, colourless autumn started that moment. The battle drums played a requiem for his soul, not a tune for his victory. The troops he was leading towards the battle against Henry Tudor seemed no more than ghosts to him, marching in a funeral progression of their king.

Richard turned his tired eyes up to the sky, feeling numb from pain. He felt as though the weight of his armour could crush him. He felt as if his horse was not going onwards, but rapidly sucked into the ground, as if some devilish forces of Hell had finally come to claim their prey - its rider.

Everything was gone. Everybody he ever loved was gone. A black veil of sadness dimmed his eyes and he felt shaken, grief clutching his heart so hard it brought him into tears.

The fact that Edward was safe was his only consolation.

Richard closed his eyes, wishing for a soothing rain. The crown on his head felt so heavy, earlier he could've never imagined it could weigh so much.

- You were right, Henry..., he whispered.

Had he left Henry alive on that dreadful day many years ago, might he still have some light now? He was already to be killed the second time, but now not only his soul, but his body would perish as well. And then he would see if he found himself from the gates of Hell. A suitable punishment for his sins.

Richard closed his eyes and dreamt he was in a cottage in the woods. He tried to imagine beautifully smelling flowers, gentle wind in the trees and the birds singing. But it seemed to him that he could only see blood soaking the land and the flowers and trees withering, while the chirping of the birds had turned into raw cawing of the crows.

Richard startled as his horse suddenly stopped and neighed. He fell back from his thoughts and looked to the road ahead, but at first he was blinded by the sunlight, as though something unreal had stood there before him.

A blue-eyed man, with his left eye scarred, stood there and looked at him. White, flowy hair framed the man's angelic face, which looked so familiar it hurt. Richard knew this man: an assassin called James Tyrrell.

It seemed as though the man was glowing in the sunlight. Richard felt as though flowers suddenly bloomed again, the trees were green and the crows were silenced, overwhelmed by the beaty of a nightingale's song.

Henry.

Richard was completely overwhelmed by warmth.

- Who are you? he asked, tears brimming in his eyes. - If you say you are James Tyrrell and not the person I think you truly are, I won't believe you.

Yes, he was sure of it. This was his light. His eyes were not deceiving him. Richard felt as though here, on his way to his doom, he suddenly returned to life again.

The wind waving his raven black hair felt fresh like a soft breeze after rain. The feeling of warm nostalgia filled his heart as he watched fallen leaves flutter around the beautiful man. He was so taken by the feeling he could burst from it.

- Halt, he said. - The troops wait here. Catesby.

- Yes, Your Majesty?

Richard dismounted and glanced at his trusted man, as if to ask if he was dreaming.

Are you thinking the same as me?

Catesby nodded at him and then moved his gaze back to the assassin.

Richard felt wobbly as he started to approach James Tyrrell. They spoke not a word in front of the others, but moved into the shadows of the woods.

- Answer me now, said Richard then, - Are you Henry?

- I am what became of the ruins of Henry VI, replied the assassin with tears in his eye.

- How...?

- I knew not until a while ago, when I started to remember. But you never left my heart even though I had no memories, my dear Richard.

Richard brought his hand to the man's scarred eye.

- I also might not be the person you knew, he sobbed. - I am the ruins of Richard, son of York, now known as Richard III.

Henry brought his hand down and held it tight. He carefully dried the tears of the younger man.

- You've stayed in my heart all these years, Richard continued, - but I died the day I killed you. Like a ghost you came back to me, but I could not see it, because my heart was ruled by darkness. I feel as though I have been ravaged by an endless storm in which I lost everything. But now, with you standing here, I feel it has finally subsided.

- I've found you, I've come back home, Henry whispered. - Come with me. Let's vanish into the mist and live as we always wished to live.

- I have so many questions to ask you. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry for what I did, Henry. All these years, all that happened on that terrible day, I--

- My memories of that day are still quite blurry and confused, said Henry. - But I forgive you, and God knows, I'm sorry too.

Henry pressed his forehead against Richard's and kissed his hands.

- I have to go, said Richard. - I have a battle to win.

- Richard, do you really want to do it?

- For my kingdom, I have to. Be it victory or honourable death, I must defend my right to the crown.

- Richard...

- Even though it has taken everything from me, Richard cried, - and even though I'm not sure if I have the right to it anymore.

- Don't let yourself be destroyed by it, said Henry.

- But I am! I am already destroyed by it.

- No!

- I have to go, said Richard, trying to move away from Henry. - Oh, what a beautiful dream this was... just before the end.

- Wait, Richard! If you really have to go..., Henry started, - and if that's truly what you want, then... fight bravely, but...

- But?

- When the time is right let me come and take you away from there. I'll look after you in battle and when it seems you might be losing, I'll act.

- And then?

- Let's leave behind your crown, as though you were killed in battle, and run away.

- They'd wonder why my body can't be found. I'm the king, they need my body to prove their victory.

Henry looked at him hopelessly.

- Please, Richard...

- I think... there might be a way to stage my death, the younger man said then, - If I told our plan to Catesby, he could be able to take care of it.

- Is it settled then?

- Yes... it is, Richard nodded.

- If you're in a pinch during the fight, give me sign, just in case, said Henry. - Shout something, anything, so I know I have to hurry to your side.

- Alright. I'll shout "A kingdom for a horse!", then come and get me.

- And tell your man, Catesby, to follow us later on, if he is able to.

- Poor Catesby, said Richard. - I hope he'll be able to get away. I'll tell him where to meet us if everything goes well. We must wait for him, Henry.

Henry nodded.

- May God be with you, my dear Richard, he said.

They parted, only to meet again later. Richard pulled himself together and returned to his troops. Sunlight glittered in the leaves of the trees, the colours were back.

- March on! he shouted after mounting his horse.

His heart pounded from the thrill, from the new hope that had awaken in him. He felt as though he was about to grasp his light again.