The Private Chambers of Elizabeth... admittance only by her Majesty's Wish

*flees to her bedchamber in the next room for a moment to indulge her tears while there is no-one to see*

*senses there has been a change and sweeps across the gardens to find Sir Nicholas, when she finds him she boldly stares into his eyes*

Sir Nicholas,

You are not in love with Marie, do not fool yourself. Can you truly look into my eyes and tell me that she is the one you long to wake up to every morn. Is she the one you think about when you day dream, nigh - and dream about? Is she the one you have nightmares about losing?

Your heart is not the only one at stake here, you must think how Marie will feel. If you truly do love her then perhaps I am mistaken. But as far as I am concerned - Elizabeth Tudor has a tight grip on that organ and always will.

*turns abrubtly and almost canters away so that he will spend his time thinking not devising a suitable reply*

*His first thought is to catch up to her and explain but he sighs and takes a deep breath instead*

I do love Marie *he says to the empty air* but I also love another , but in time, I will love Marie more.

*Continure on his way and follows Elizabeth's orders and then returns to her chamber asking for admittance*

*Elizabeth hath composed herself and had a moment to get her mind back on track*

Enter my lord!

*explains to Kat Ashley - her old governess and now first lady of her bedchamber - that she ist to provide chaperone to herself and Sir Nicholas as they hath matters to discuss long into the night. Though Kat ist a notorious gossip she is loyal to Elizabeth. She also knows Sir Nicholas's secret and wilt not dare risk his vengeance.*

Sir Nicholas. If it wudst please thee to take dinner with me privately this evening whilst we discuss matters I wud be most honoured.

*speaks firmly in the voice she doth use to issue orders*

I believe good Kat Ashley doth tire early of late and wilt retire to her bed in mine chambers for she doth find matters of state lacking in entertainment.

*retrieving her lute, Elizabeth doth sit by the fireside playing a pretty tune to ease her heart of it's burdens*

As you wish your Majesty

*his demeanor is no longer cold, it is almost devoid of any emotion whats so ever*

*the music threatens to ease his brooding but he pushes it soothing tones away, not yet ready to let go of his pain*


*he pushes food around on his plate while he waits for the business to continue*

*Elizabeth pauses in her tune*

I hope it doth not grieve thee further if I speak my mind dear Nicholas, but I wonder sometimes if I often find thine company most calming because thou dost usually keep thine emotions in check as I do mine?

It pleases the court to flourish in flurry of emotions, and as the one at the helm it always seems best to remain calm and keep my eyes upon our course and merely issue directions. I expect you understand that meaning my lord?

I do not truly wish to deminish or dismiss thine kind words, thoughts and deeds, but emotions of love send the screams of Kat Howard thundering though mine ears once more as she pleaded for her life when I wus but a child. Her death reminds me of the fate also of mine monther Anne.

Love hath killed many, including *bites her lip just in time* at least one of Marie's husbands. I wudst not have it kill either you or I... or our friendship.

Though I long for thine comfort Sir, I fear mine heart would bleed too heavily were I to open it to anyone now... and I am sure thou wudst not have a Queen prostrate at thine feet sobbing like a child for all of the night.

*raises her eyes questioningly to his at that thought*

I do love thee sir, but mine life is not mine own. God hath given me another path. And twud please me to see you have the happiness I cannot claim for myself.

*Elizabeth, like a hag over a cauldron, begins to think up various spells and enchanments before releasing the perfect one*

Aha! *she laughs*

*Elizabeth draws a piece of parchment and simply writes:

"Elizabeth Tudor, Sir Nicholas Rhodes"

She then folds it up into something that roughly resembles a heart before setting it alight and tossing it into the river*

Mother Melusina! Dearest Mother I pray thee help me, one of your daughters needs help!

Make all emotions clear. Allow them to speak without fear. Let not shed a single tear. My mother I pray - this you hear!

*The heart has turned into ash that simply lies in the oceanic fortress*

If this won't help them, nothing will.

*sigh*

*his heart warms at the mention of her love, but he quickly whisked it away*

*sighs once more, but this time lets his brooding go*

I do understand, I always have, and thus have always ... as you put it ... kept my emotions in check. I know your life is not your own and I am sorry that I let my myself slip and say things that could do nothing but bring about pain for us both.

Please speak your mind my friend and I shall take your word with understanding and respect

*raises and walks to the desk, unlocking a drawer and taking out the letter she was reading earlier*

*with a heavy sigh she sits on the floor at Sir Nicholas's feet, gazes at him with the eys of a lost child and hands him the letter*

Tis from King Frederick of Denmark. He hath Marie's husband Bothwell under his care and wudst write to ask mine wishes for him.

Bothwell didst murder mine kin and Marie's second husband Darnley and is by the law of our realm condemned for that.

As you can see from the correspondance, Frederick hath offered to carry out the due sentence for me. He was long my suitor and doth still wish to carry some of the burden of my office for me, but without taking my crown.

*smiles faintly that someone out there doth hold her in enough esteem to do as such*

Currently Bothwell is free to return and reclaim his wife if he dare risk his life to do so.

*gazes at the floor*

With one letter from me Marie cudst be free to marry thee, and I will issue the letter comdening his life for that of my murdered subject Darnley if thou wishest it.

Or if thou hath not the taste for such cruel descisions of the heart and soul as are laid at my doorstep each day I wudst suggest thou ask for guidance from Marie's heart on this matter. If she knows of mine interfereance or knowledge she wilt use it against me so I cannot confront her about it alone.

This is mine gift of love to you in that I will clear the path for thine marriage to Marie or give thee the chance to hand her the ammunition she may use to destroy me.

*looks down at her with such love and devotion in his eyes* I would never allow her to destroy you never *he says boldly*

*gives some thought to the matter at hand*

I should not like this man's fate in my hands, nor do I like the thought of such things being laid at her your feet either, though I know it is your lot in life.

But this news is troubling *sighs* She told me she was free to marry, that the marriage is null and void. She still professes this to be true though I tried to press the matter. I have no talent for politics how shall I approach this in away which will not lead trouble to you?

I hath not met the man whose life hangs in the balance myself, but know him to be a thieving, murdering and meddlesome Lord who preys upon the attentions of weak minded women then casts them aside when they have no longer the riches he desires.

I also hear he is mighty attractive and that there was great passion between he and Marie. All tales of their times together rage between that of passionate love and hateful arguing...

*begins to realise a pattern but hopes Sir Nicholas doth not recognise it too and trouble his heart with it*

That said he didst ride to her aid, was long her council since her time first married as the Queen of France and may well have murdered my lord Darnley to save Marie herself from the hateful man-child.

I know not whether she doth love him or hate him. She wudst never tell me the truth, she wudst bend it to suit her aims. I wudst suggest thee to ask her - as her future husband - how her heart didst tend toward her previous lovers. Her answer may be warped to suit your vanity, but it will give us our answer of how to proceed with the fate of Bothwell. Her words will decide his fate.

*sighs yet again*

I will do as you advise. Why can life not be more simple *flashes a weary smile*

I do often wish my lord that I wast truly the cast aside bastard child of Henry Tudor with no claim to the throne and no power or riches to throw me into the path of suitors who cudst never love me.

I was not born to have love or life of my own.

I admit my anger towards Lettice Knollys is not truly that she didst marry my sweet Robyn. I see my face in hers as she dances merrily in my cast aside court gowns with her red Tudor hair flowing around her shoulders. I cudst have been her... carefree, safe, loved.

That she curses me daily and took away mine Robyn was but the final curse of it all.

When she ist near me I wish to tear out every stranf of red hair from her pretty little head... but when she ist gone and no-one doth mention her in spellbound terms I think quietly on her and wish her all that I cannot have.

*frowns in understanding*

Though I am grateful, Sometimes I wish you had never brought me here. I think I shud have perished alone. But then I know I am only giving into brooding self pity *chuckles*

I shall talk to her, though it wont be easy ... why do I always choose love in the most difficult of places ? *grins*

I often feel that God doth test us, seeing if we truly deserve that which we long for by putting us through such strife. Either that or doth wish to use ud for good end or to teach us a great lesson.

Perhaps this ist your quest for true love. Or perhaps tis God's way of proving to you that your lot is not the most wretched one of all.

You have me wondering if tis easier to have the curse of bloodlust than the curse of a crown.

Immortality doth not seem the worse pain to me. My constant fear is that I will die before I have done my duty... but then I know not your life as well as you are now learning ours.

*leaves Sir Nicholas to his task and throws herself wearily upon her bed, closing the curtains tight round her and shutting the world and it's politics out for some short blessed hours of sleep*

God grant me the strength to do what is best for all, and please ease mine load with but a few hours of blessed dreams.

*lingers quietly outside her door for a moment and quietly prays she finds some much needed solice*

*In his mind he says th elast words he wished to say but could not ...* I will marry and leave your realm if you wish it, but you shall forever have a place in my heart*

Good night my dear friend *he says softly and takes his leave*

*after battling through the wearisome pains of a broken heart and the tortures of endlesly calculating matters of state, Elizabeth finally falls exhaustedly into the realm of dreams*

she is young again and senses the impending happiness of a marriage between her brother Edward and Marie of Scotland. Tis a good match. Their union brings together the neighbouring realms of England and Scotland as well as quelling the quarrels between Protestant and Catholic. Any issue of theirs will inherrt a strong place upon the throne and prevent further wars among the peoples of the kingdom for matters of rule or religion. Tis a most happy thing.

Elizabeth waves her sister Mary goodbye as she sets sail to become Queen of Spain alongside her beloved Philip. She will miss her beloved sister dearly but great joy fills her heart knowing Mary is being given what her heart truly desires above all other.

A strong arm folds around her as she waves goodbye, tis her sweet Robyn. She hopes that his father will be successful in begging her brother the king's blessing on their union. Robyn's brother hath already married Lady Jane Grey and Elizabeth is but the bastard daughter of King Henry so she hopes her bother's wishes for any diplomatic marriage will be ruled out so she can marry her true love.

*Elizabeth murmours and turns in her bed as the sweet dream doth take a dark threatening turn*

she is confined for her own safety within the walls of the Tower of London. Her guards, loyal courtiers and protectors surround her and she holds this royal palace as a fortress not a prison. Outside the castle walls she can hear the screams of battle, the death wails of her own people as the wars rage in earnest once more.

Her brother the King is dead, slain by his wife's lover Bothwell. Marie hath an army of her own formed by the Spanish royalty to slay every Protestant subject in the land. There is nothing Elizabeth can do. She hath no claim over the throne. It belongs rightfully now to her Catholic sister, Queen Mary of Spain and is placed in the hands their cousin Marie, the Queen Consort though she ist now stained with the blood of King Edward.

The Spanish armies hath broken through the defences, the protective castle walls are no match when there are traitors within. Elizabeth runs screaming through the halls searching for her Robyn. She ist to die now and would die within his arms at least.

She finds him locked in an embrace with Lettice Knollys, Lettice who is great with child... Robyn's child. All is lost to Elizabeth.

*a letter slips under the door, the envelope sealed and embossed with the seal of the House of Rhodes*

Your Majesty,
I have given much thought to our discussions the previous evening concerning a certain prisioner's fate. I hath questioned those involved and believe the informtion gathered to be true. Thus I believe he should indeed pay for his sins. If thou wishes that we disscuss the matter further summon me forth at your command.


Your Humble Subject,
Sir Nicholas of Rhodes
Marquis of Pembroke

*as if aware of the etheral and loyal presance nearby, Elizabeth's dream alters once more*

She is running within the fortress walls now, past the Beauchamp Tower. The chaos within is now so great that no-one pays heed to the Princess Elizabeth as she flees. No-one even stops to loot the coins that were lately minted on the street through which she runs.

As her feet fly over the cobles of Mint Street she finds herself truly flying above the ground. She fears not for he is with her, carrying her to safety as his green eyes flash with anger at those who wudst do her harm.

Placing her gently down upon the battlements of the Bell Tower the icy wind whips at her hair and skirts and she can smell the intoxcating salt of the sea upon the wind's whispery breath. She turns to him. The preternatural gleams of rage in his eyes dim and he is once more likened to the Nicholas she knows.

..though now she sees there is blood at his lips and splashed across his shirt. He hath not come here but to see her, he hath already joined in the battle for her realm in his own way. She hath not time to think who's life he's chosen to end tonight in a violence not usually befitting of him. She knows he will have chosen his victim well, he doth not fight blindly in petty battle like the rest.

'Come with me' he issues gently, but tis an order and he wilt not take no for an answer. The very mention is but his usual chivalry. He will not take her by force but he wilt give her the illusion she needs that she can make her own decisions.

As she stands above the tower, the wind carries the cries of pain to her ears once more and her heart bleeds for her people. Knowing her thoughts he already quells her pain. 'You will die here tonight if you remain. The country needs a Queen to rule it when the battle is done. You cannot rule if you are dead and you cannot join the fight. You are to sail away with me til others work here is done.'

*a sigh of great relief issues from Elizabeth's lips as her dream gives her a taste of the freedom she can never have within her waking hours*

the mighty crash of the waves thunders around her. All is dark but the twinkling of the stars and the silver stream of moonlight that catches upon the flourishing peaks of the waves.

The wind runs freely through her hair and her heart beats fast with the thrill of the ocean and the warmth of the welcomming emptiness that surrounds her.

She sense he is nearby though she knows not how. Her every sense is heightened and though her heart doth no longer seem to care, a small part of her old mind wonders if he hath changed her in a way that means she can never go back.