~Coronation~

"Hold on, Liza!" Georgie called as Eliza waved to the crowds that cheered for her Aunt and Uncle. She elbowed him in the ribs and he grinned at her over his shoulder, steering their horse with an expert hand.

"I don't need to hold on, brother!" She said confidently and he chuckled at the endearment. They truly were like siblings! She looked up to him with pure adoration and followed him every chance she could while he swore to protect her with his life and (of course) aided her in every single bit of mischief her clever mind could come up with! "My Father used to say that a truly fine horseman did not need to hold onto their reins!"

"Your Father clearly never took a nasty tumble then, Eliza!" Isabella called as she clung onto Bess' waist. Eliza smiled at her, as fond as she had always been of her mother's little redheaded namesake "really, I think I should have been allowed my own horse!"

"At five!" Bess scoffed over the roar of the crowds, exchanging a look of doubt with Georgie and Eliza "There would be no chance of that!"
"How you do know?"
"I'm eleven, I know everything, Bella!"

"Your graces! Your graces!" Holding a hand up to shield her eyes from the glare of the golden sun, Bess looked up as they passed by another timbered house that had four young girls leaning out of the windows, all dressed in their best gowns with smiles on their faces.

Bess grinned and waved to them, they squealed and waved back and she giggled as she nudged her steed onwards. She would never be able to galavant around the streets freely as those girls would, she thought, her smile faltering a little even as a cloud of white rose petals were showered down upon the procession by cheering onlookers.

Not now that she was a Princess. No more sneaking out into the barn to play with the boys or wearing breeches and doublets. Now she must sit prettily in cold chambers, clad in gowns she hated!

"We can't play like we used to anymore" Isabella observed as if she could read her sister's thoughts and Bess nodded.
"We cannot" she admitted and felt her sister lean her cheek against the back of her golden gown. "But at least Mama and Papa are happy"

"Are they?" Edward asked from the horse beside theirs and he felt his twin sister adjust her arms around his waist, fiddling with his belt.

Throughout his years confined to his bed, unable to play with his siblings or friends, the seven year old had acquired a great skill for observation. He never missed a trick or an emotion that flickered across someone's face and could read people as easily as he read books. Now as he watched his parents riding ahead he inwardly sighed, though kept his smile on his face.

He could see they were not happy. Not truly.

Though they were dressed in the finery of Kings and Queens, cloth of gold and jewels that glimmered and glittered and held the people in a trance of majesty that made them cheer all the more, they were not happy.

There was unease in the glance that his brave Father passed the guards that accompanied them, sadness in the face of his beautiful mother as she reached out and caught a falling rose petal in her hand.

Eleanor sighed as she inhaled the sweet scent of the flower, bringing the soft petal to her lips for a fleeting moment before she let it fall from her hands to the ground. How strange, she thought, that things could be grasped by royalty, held to the light for a moment of glory, only to be cast away as the petal had been cast from her hand.

"Queen Eleanor!" She turned her attention to the crowds once more and raised a hand to wave, her rings shining on her fingers. Her wave sent up another loud roar from the crowds and she put on another dazzling smile, one that was sure to win their love.

Looking from face to face, she searched for the adoration that she and Richard needed to secure them on their throne. 'Well, Richard's throne' she thought, glancing to her husband to see him smiling and waving as she had been doing since they had left Westminster Palace almost twenty minutes before.

Up ahead, the spires of Westminster Abbey and towering stone walls, figurines and gargoyles of all kind engraved into them. She felt the urge to cower away from them and, despite the July heat, shivered slightly at the sight, feeling doubt and uncertainty flood her as the procession halted at the foot of the Abbey steps.

The crowds did not cease their cheering, in fact their cries of love and loyalty seemed to become all the more louder as the procession began to dismount. So deafening their voices were that Eleanor hardly heard the words Francis whispered to her when he gracefully swung her down from her horse. She was almost reluctant to let go of the reins.

"Have courage, Leena" he had said, his hands gently squeezing her waist "You shall be a Queen so great even God could not have foreseen it!"

Eleanor smiled at him, squeezing his hand as she took it and he led her to where Richard was standing at the top of the steps, still waving and smiling. Inwardly, she was grateful that the rest of the nobility were already inside of the cool abbey walls and that, at that moment, she and Richard were surrounded by their closest friends.

Anais and Marie escorted the children inside, nodding encouragingly as they passed. Eleanor felt her confidence grow a little.

Francis led the King and Queen inside the Abbey, sighing a little as the heavy doors closed behind them and the crowd's calls were softened a little. He went to collect the sword of state he was to carry in front of them, his pride in the task shown clearly in his puffed out chest and raised chin.

Rob carried the train of Richard's coronation furs while Harry fussed over his robes and Jack peered over heads to count the children.
Anne carried the train of Eleanor's furs, an almost childlike smile on her face.

Eleanor smiled again. This could perhaps be the last time that the group bound together at Middleham would all be together in what was supposed to be a time of happiness. Looking from face to face, she tried to not let tears fill her eyes as she felt her heart burst with love for each of her friends.

"Your graces?" Her attention was diverted as the Archbishop of Canterbury made his way towards her and Richard, bedecked in his finest robes and jewels, a smile lighting up his wrinkled and ageing face. He bowed low as he came before them "if you would permit me" he continued as he rose "I would tell you how your graces are to enter. The King shall be first, of course, and then...."

"Together" Richard interrupted, slightly startling the old man who raised his thin, grey eyebrows.
"Your grace?"

"The Queen and I shall enter together" Richard elaborated, a firm tone to his voice that dared for the Archbishop to question him. He did not "it is my wish for us to enter together and I shall have it so. Queen Eleanor shall walk beside me as she has done for near upon fourteen years now and shall always do no matter what tradition says must be done. She is my wife, my Queen and the mother of my children and she will walk beside me and be shown the same respect as I which I believe is no less than she deserves. Is that clear?"

The Archbishop nodded silently, bowing low once more before he hobbled away to get to the front of the Abbey, his robes rustling in his wake.

Smiling from ear to ear with a slight blush staining her cheeks, Eleanor took a small step so that she and Richard were side by side and glanced down as he took her hand, raising it slightly.

"I was never going to let you walk behind me" he murmured, tilting her chin up and placing a soft kiss to her lips "I will have you beside me as you have always been"
"Thank you" she whispered and he kissed her hand, a gleam of love in his eyes.
"Tu es ma force aujourd'hui, cher cœur" he whispered.

"You are my strength today, dear heart"

"As you are mine, Dickon" she replied and he sighed a little "what is it?" She asked as a look of nostalgia came over his face.
"We shall no longer just be Dickon and Leena" he answered wistfully and Eleanor smiled a little.
"We were never just Dickon and Leena now, were we, love? We were the Duke and Duchess of Gloucester"

"I know....but we had our own Kingdom, our own life and now it is if our lives belong to others. Dickon and Leena have been replaced with King Richard and Queen Eleanor, the monarchs of England"

'If you did not want that why did you chose to take the throne?' She thought but shook her head as a pang of guilt cut into her heart. He didn't need any reproaches from her, not that day. He needed her support and her love and reassurance.

"Well" she murmured, brushing her lips across his cheek "if you ever want to slip away into a land of just Dickon and Leena, the two people who love one another more than anything else in the world you know where to find it" he quirked his eyebrows.

"Where?"
Eleanor smirked.
"Between my legs of course"

"If you two don't kill me I genuinely don't know what will" Rob said from behind, shaking his head as he fought off the urge to laugh at Richard's reddening cheeks.
"Probably your own ego" Jack chuckled with a grin and Rob shrugged, brushing a bit of fluff from the ermine of Richard's cloak.

The call of trumpets made them all straighten up and Richard and Eleanor crossed themselves with their free hands as two Archbishops came to stand in front of them, hands clasped in prayer.

As they moved forward with slow, calculated steps, the King and Queen did the same, moving into the eyes of the court and nobility of England as they walked down the isle of Westminster Abbey. They kept their eyes on the bejewelled sword that Francis carried, the fixation a little calming to them instead of staring around at the people that stared at them!

The rustle of expensive material and flashes of jewels filled their ears and eyes as all rose and bowed or curtsied as their new rulers past, heads held high. As they passed by their children, the little ones waved and beamed, though stayed quiet even they seemingly understanding the weight the situation carried. To break its precious silence would not be allowed.

The Archbishops slowly stepped up the steps of the crimson velvet covered dais to where the two thrones of England lay and Eleanor and Richard stopped at the foot of them, slowly lowering themselves to their knees and bowing their heads.

"I love you" she heard him whisper and turned her head to the side a little, seeing the earnest look that filled his eyes as the sign of the cross was made over each of their heads.
"I love you too" she replied before they stood once more to their feet and walked up the steps, standing before their thrones while Rob and Anne moved away to the side.

They both hesitated, green eyes once again meeting worried blue. But there was no going back. This was not the time for second thoughts. They had made their choice and now it was time to go through with it.

Eleanor took a sharp breath as she turned as sat down at the same time as her husband, though she did not sit back on the great oak throne that was now her own; she perched on the edge, her heartbeat quickening with each second.

Her eyes fluttered close for a moment as the second of the Archbishops gently lifted the Pearl circlet from her head. She did not hear the sombre words of Latin proclaimed by the Archbishop of Canterbury and nor did Richard it seemed. They both stared forward, silent and regal as the ceremonial rings of ruby and sapphire were slid onto their fingers.

It was only as she felt the cold rod of gold that was the Queen's sceptre slid into her hand that she seemed to awaken from her trance, eyes snapping to the side as she watched the Archbishop of Canterbury grasp the King's crown and bring it forward, it's jewels glittering and fine.

How many times had she seen Edward wear it throughout her life? How many times had she pictured his son wearing it as she sat opposite him playing chess in the Tower?

But now, it was her husband that wore the crown and Richard glanced towards her for a moment.

"With this crown, the crown worn by each of the Kings of England, I proclaim you, Richard Plantagenet, King Richard of England, the third of your name since the conquest!" The crown was lowered and Richard bit the inside of his cheek as he felt the golden weight settle on his head, sighing a little "God save the King!"

"God save the King!"
The enthusiastic shouts of the people gathered in the abbey raised to the rafters, filled his ears as they called out to him and he looked from face to face of his friends below him.

Rob, Francis, Jack and Harry all grinned at him as they bowed, his children smiled and clapped their hands together. He was the King. The King of England.

And then a hush fell over the Abbey hall, all falling silent as the Archbishop took the Queen's crown into his ageing hands and held it above Eleanor's head. She stared forward at one of the marble pillars in front of her as he spoke, his words filling her ears.

"With this crown, I proclaim you, Eleanor Plantagenet, to be Queen Eleanor of England!" He placed the crown on her head and she shut her eyes as a shudder ran through her. She hoped no one noticed "God save the Queen!"

Her ears rang with the echoes response, with the chorus of clapping hands and shouts and the sudden chime of the Abbey bells that sent the crowd outside into a frenzy once more. As she opened her eyes she was met with faces smiling up at her, the roar of the people outside.

Her people now.

She wore Elizabeth's crown. Wore Elizabeth's coronation furs. Sat on Elizabeth's throne. 'They are mine' she thought 'they are all mine'

"I will be better than you" she promised herself in a hushed whisper "I will be a better Queen then you could ever hoped to have been, Elizabeth....upon my throne I swear it"

Glancing to the side she saw Cecily Neville, dressed in a gown of royal blue and cloth of gold, her silver hair bound in a high butterfly hennin. The older woman was smiling and nodded as her cornflower blue eyes met her daughter in laws. Eleanor recalled the time she had worn Cecily's old gown when at Ludlow. The gown of the true Queen of England. Had it been a sign of her future fate? True, Cecily had never been crowned and her husband had never been able to claim the throne.

But she had still been the rightful Queen.
Just as it seemed she was now the rightful Queen.
She was the Queen. And Richard was the King.

꧁꧂

Matilda swung her legs back and forth on the bench she and her siblings were sat at. Their clothes of cloth of gold shone in the torchlight that illuminated the great hall and smiles lit their faces as they watched couples dance and their parents laugh at the high table.

"Look at the men!" Matilda remarked, watching the noblemen of England dance elegantly around their partners "they dance better than Uncle Harry!"
"Everyone dances better than Uncle Harry" Bess scoffed with a grin, watching Katheryn dance with John "though I would willingly dance with him right now!"

"Why don't you dance with me?" Georgie offered.
"You and your two left feet!" Eliza teased, making him roll his eyes while Bess giggled.
"Very well my Lord! I accept!" She said and accepted the hand he extended, letting herself be led to the other dancers, waving to her parents as she did so.

"The men are so handsome, Bella!" Matilda proclaimed but six year old Isabella (who was beside her) sniffed.
"I think the ladies are far more beautiful!" She said, staring at a Countess with long dark hair "just look at how they dance, Tilda! They're so pretty"

She smiled and looked around until her eyes caught on a girl around her age sitting on the opposite side of the hall, a wary look on her face.

She had flaxen hair that tumbled down to her waist and she kept tucking it behind her ear, huffing when the silky strands slipped forward over her rosy face again. Isabella grinned, her heart beginning to buzz a little with something she could only think of as akin to excitement "in fact" she said, standing "I'm going to ask one of them to dance right now!"

"Her confidence never fails to impress me, I swear" George commented, watching with amused eyes as his little sister darted in and around dancing adults, making it to the other side of the room with ease.

"You and me same!" Eliza laughed "care to dance, dear cousin?" George shrugged his agreement and placed down the dice he was playing with, taking Eliza's hand and leading her to middle of the hall.

"Hello" Isabella said brightly smiling as a pair of deep brown eyes darted up to meet hers from where they had been trained on the skirt of their owners buttercup gown "I'm Isabella!" She raised an eyebrow as the blonde girl stood quickly and curtsied "really you don't need to curtsy to me!"

"I do, your grace"
"Who are you?"

The girl smiled slightly, though the wariness in her eyes remained, Isabella wondered why.
"Elizabeth, your grace, Elizabeth Hastings"
Isabella's eyes widened.
"Oh god" she said loudly, making a few people turn her way, she lowered her voice "William Hastings' daughter?" Elizabeth nodded "Christ. I believe my father may have....executed yours?"

The blonde girl nodded and Isabella suddenly felt her cheeks burn as red as her hair as she searched for words. William Hastings had been arrested along with her Uncle Anthony and her Uncle Edwards mistress and had been executed the same day. Oh lord.

"I'm very sorry" she murmured quietly "W-would you like me to go?" Elizabeth suddenly smiled, one simple action that made Isabella's heart flutter as it had never done before. She shook her head.

"It was not your fault" she said "and your parents, that is the King and Queen, have been very kind to my family, they even invited us to this feast! I miss my Father of course but....he was never with us....he was with the King or with other women" she shrugged a little and Isabella smiled again, her confidence returning to her a little. She held out a hand.

"Would you like to dance?" She asked quietly and Elizabeth's smile widened into a grin as she nodded, taking Isabella's hand.
"I would like that very much!"