#my beta reader called me sick for including that microphone in the execution but to be fair i think monokuma did that. for 'accessibility'

[sixqueendom]

One-Shot: All My Love, Catherine

This one-shot was inspired by this drawing by the talented Zara (@you-need-a-jello-shot). It depicts a sleeping Anne and Kitty in front of a laptop in bed, however before I read the caption the drawing automatically made me think of Cathy and Kitty, so I decided to roll with it! Side-note: I know from doing research that Thomas had apparently asked for Elizabeth's hand in marriage within a month of Henry's death, before being rejected and going on to marry Catherine. I decided to overlook this fact for the sake of this fanfic, wanting to keep focus on Cathy's feelings for him (it's not clear whether she ever knew about Thomas's proposal to Elizabeth). A huge thank you to Blue (@pen-and-a-microphone) for being my dedicated Beta-reader for this fic and for all your help and support throughout! She deserves full credit for Cathy's love letter, which she helped me write in a mix of modern/Tudor script, through looking into Catherine Parr's actual letters. As always, the link to read on AO3 is included below if you’d prefer to read on there.

AO3

Fanfic Masterpost

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Cathy had known it would be a bad idea.

 And yet, here she was, wide awake at 3am, engrossed in an online article. Realising she wasn’t getting much writing done, she’d had every intention of going to sleep, resigning from her desk to the warmth of her bed. That was, until she’d let her mind drift momentarily to the past once more and flipped open her laptop, spurred on by a silent yearning to see their name, to read those familiar words and remember. As if those words would be enough to satiate her grief, to bring her some comfort. Oh, how she regretted her decision now, as a solitary tear trailed down her cheek; that ever familiar ache, that hollow emptiness, forming in her chest.

 It was then that she heard a hesitant knock at the door, as the youngest of the Queens tentatively poked her head in. Kitty knew that she could always rely on Cathy to be awake at this ungodly hour of the morning, and occasionally sought out the writer for solace when she was struggling to fall asleep, not wanting to disturb Anne. 

 “Hey,” Cathy said softly, giving a weak smile as she quickly brushed away the tear, praying Kitty didn’t see. “Can’t sleep?”

 The younger girl shook her head as she approached the bed. 

 “I have never understood how you can sit up reading and writing at this hour…”

 Eyes wide, her heart skipping a beat, Cathy frantically closed the article she’d been reading. 

 But not quickly enough.

 She didn’t miss the flash of concern in Kitty’s eyes.

 “Cathy…”

 But already, even with her head bowed, Kitty could see the writer’s lip trembling, her hands clenched into fists as she struggled to fight the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. As she let out a sob, Kitty immediately slipped into bed beside her, wrapping her in a hug. 

 “I can’t help it. I just…”

 Cathy felt like a schoolgirl, caught in the act. What a disappointment she was. An immense sense of guilt suddenly weighed down on her shoulders and she squirmed slightly at Kitty’s touch, feeling disgusted with herself. 

 “It’s okay,” Kitty reassured, rubbing her arm. “You don’t need to justify anything to me. You have every right to miss him.”

Cathy had to admit she was surprised by Kitty’s mature reaction. Sure, the girl was an adult, but she’d only ever experienced men as predators. Cathy didn’t think Kitty would be able to comprehend how she felt, not about Thomas. But the reaction, though calming, did nothing to quell her disappointment in herself, her frustration.

 “Do I?” Cathy’s face twisted into a grimace. “After everything he did?”

 It was somewhat of an emotional tug-of-war for Cathy, something she found herself constantly fighting with. Of course, undoubtedly she missed him, her true love. Nothing could ever dispel the love she had for him. Yet, that love was something she’d always felt guilty about. It felt wrong, disrespectful even, to yearn for him. Despite showing such care and compassion for her, he’d also committed some admittedly wicked deeds, earning him an egregious reputation with her fellow five Queens, all of whom despised him to varying degrees. If they knew what she was doing, they would be appalled. How could she possibly still harbour feelings for a man who was so cruel, particularly to one specific girl in his care? 

 Yet, despite all that, here was sweet Kitty, being so understanding and impartial. True, she had never had any involvement with him, but surely she felt some discomfort on the subject, given it had concerned Anne’s beloved daughter? Everyone knew she would come to her cousin’s defence. 

 Realising how selfish she was being, Cathy made a feeble attempt to compose herself, exhaling shakily. After all, it had been Kitty who was seeking her comfort.

 “I’m sorry,” she sniffed, wiping away the tears that stained her cheeks.

 The younger girl only nuzzled in closer, resting her head on the writer’s shoulder.

 “Don’t be silly. Your feelings are valid, Cathy. You’re allowed to miss him just as much as you do Mae. You’re allowed to grieve. Just like Jane is about Edward, or Catherine about Mary.”

 Cathy noted how she’d carefully missed out Anne and Elizabeth in a bid to be sensitive.

 “But they were innocent.” Cathy gripped her bed cover, balling her hands into fists once more, gravel in her voice.

 Even soft, kind words couldn’t douse the burning resentment in her chest.

 Kitty took a moment to contemplate. She couldn’t forget that, despite the events that had transpired later, Cathy had been devoted to Thomas well before Henry appeared on the scene. She had fallen head over heels in love with him, yet, upon Kitty’s execution, Henry had found himself requiring another Queen. And that honour - if you could ever call it that - fell to Cathy. She’d had no choice in the matter, unless she wanted a swift exit via the executioner’s axe, in which case, there’d have been no hope of reuniting with Thomas later on whatsoever.

 She’d married Henry to survive. 

 After the King’s death, Cathy had finally been reunited with her love and her life seemed so much brighter, filled with so much promise. They’d started making plans for their future together. But fate had other ideas. Just days after delivering their beautiful daughter, Cathy would succumb to what would later be known as childbed fever, the very same fate that took Jane. Once again, Cathy had been ripped away from Thomas. Only this time, it had been permanent.  

 It was just never meant to be. Life could be so cruel and twisted like that.

 Despite all of this, Cathy hated herself for missing him and their potential future together, all the “what could have beens”. So, she locked herself away in her bedroom, where she searched tirelessly for any information on her little girl, and, like tonight, anything to remind her of Thomas.

 Kitty rested a gentle hand on hers.

 “He may have done some bad things in the past, but it’s not like you condone his actions. Besides, you can’t keep dwelling on what happened; it’s done now and there’s nothing that you can do about it. It was almost five hundred years ago! This is meant to be our fresh start.”

 When the Queens had initially been reincarnated, relations with Anne had been stiff and difficult. Cathy had tried to avoid contact with her as much as possible, distancing herself and trying not to initiate unnecessary conversations, fully understanding her bitter resentment. From the corner of her eye, she’d often caught Anne casting a sharp glare at her, and she’d always thought she deserved it. Eventually, Anne had confronted her, throwing all of her feelings about Cathy and Thomas out into the open, tearing open old wounds. Cathy had acknowledged all the terrible things that Thomas, and she, though unintentionally, had done. Much to her relief, they had called a truce and decided to put their differences aside. Now they had a rather amiable friendship, although deep down Cathy knew Anne would never be able to fully trust her. Not that anyone could blame her. How could she expect her to after what had happened to Elizabeth? What Cathy had allowed to happen?

 That autumn day still haunted her; she could still see Thomas struggling with Elizabeth as they fought over one of her dresses. It hadn’t taken long for him to overpower her, snatching the dress from her grasp and cruelly shredding it into pieces, all whilst the girl sobbed. It made her feel sick now, having stood and witnessed it all, restraining Elizabeth as her husband ruined her favourite gown. She could still hear the girl’s distraught cries echoing in her ears. 

 She’d never forgiven herself.

But it didn’t stop her from missing him. How, when she had served in Princess Mary’s household, they’d exchanged love letters; how’d she’d look forward to receiving them, her heart fluttering as she carefully opened each one, reading his sweet words, over and over. The letters inevitably stopped once she married Henry. Thomas was consequently removed from court and sent away to war. She had desperately wanted to write to him, but it was just too risky. Any hint to suggest promiscuity and she’d be next in line to be executed; she’d learnt that lesson from Kitty’s unfortunate demise. Yet, Thomas had still waited for her. He waited four years for King Henry’s death, to be reunited with her.

 Despite Kitty’s reassurances, Cathy found it impossible to forget, to put what happened aside and focus on her, in the here and now. It was true: they had clearly been reincarnated to have a second chance at life, since each of their previous lives had been corrupted by Henry and his abuse. But with a new life came old memories. They had never faded. Everything remained vivid, as clear as if they’d only happened recently. And Cathy clung to them dearly; she didn’t want to forget. She never wanted to forget the beautiful daughter she’d brought into the world, but never got the chance to see grow up. She never wanted to forget Thomas, his kindly face and sweet letters. She didn’t want to forget the blissful life they had started to create together, before her untimely passing. How could she, when it all made her who she was today? Thomas had shown her what it was to be a true wife, to be loved unconditionally. Mae, her sweet little girl, ultimately made her a mother, albeit for the shortest of time, but also drove her motivation to write and research. With Thomas, she had finally been able to breathe. For too long, she had been silenced by Henry, stifled. Unable to be herself. But Thomas had loved her for who she was.

 Exhausted, Cathy released a weary sigh.

 “I just wish it wasn’t so hard,”

 After a moment, she wriggled free from Kitty’s comforting touch, delving underneath her bed. She lifted up a loose floorboard, revealing a stash of neatly folded papers. Letters.

 As Cathy clutched one in her hand, slumping back on her bed beside Kitty, the girl recoiled a little. She’d already guessed what they were, who they were to and how personal they would be. But to her surprise, Cathy offered her one.

 “I sometimes write to him or Mae when I can’t sleep,” she admitted, her lip twitching. 

 When Kitty didn’t move, Cathy gave a reassuring smile.

 “It’s okay. You can read it.”

 Kitty tentatively took the letter and unfolded it carefully. As she began to read Cathy’s elegant writing, she felt a lump form in her throat.

My Dearest Thomas,

 As Lord Tennyson once wrote: “‘Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all”. I make likeness with him when it comes to my feelings for you, for I regret not one moment we were together. I was truly blessed by the time we had, though it may not have been as long as we desired. Though, I do ask myself, would forever have been long enough? I don’t think so. I am, therefore, eternally grateful for the time we had, to have been blessed with your love and kindness for so long. 

 Every day I awake to birdsong, and I think of you. How I would rise eagerly as early as the sun, waiting for your letters. Your words, written not only in ink but most truly impressed on the heart, were treasured by me.

 Now, I wake and realise, with most wondrous sadness, that you are no longer with me.

Some comfort I may take through these letters, as they impress upon me a sense of calm, a grounding force amongst a chaotic world. The 21st century is breathtaking and frightening, somehow all together. How fast, loud, and massive the world has become cannot be written, nor relayed in terms you might understand. Yet, the sun still rises and falls, and the stars still shine. I only wish you hither, in my arms, to share in these beauties. 

 I can only pray we are reunited again. This time, I hope it is for eternity.

 All my love, Catherine

 As she read the last sentence, Kitty sniffed loudly, moved to tears. Cathy’s words were so eloquent and beautiful, resonating deeply with her. Quite frankly, it broke her heart. Was this true love?

 She finally got the courage to glance up at Cathy, who was still staring, glassy eyed and longingly, at the letter in her hand. As if she thought reading her words would make them become real. Kitty solemnly rested her head on Cathy’s shoulder.

 “You’ll see him again, someday,” she murmured. “I know you will.”

 At that, she closed her eyes, drifting off to sleep. 

 In the darkness, Cathy nodded, nuzzling close as she finally found peace. 

 She found herself running through sunflower fields, the sun streaming down upon her, the warm heat of summer on her skin, a little girl’s squeal of laughter in the air. Every so often, she caught a flash of a white dress billowing in the breeze; black curly hair in pigtails. 

 “Can’t catch me!” the girl cried with a giggle. 

 As she reached the edge of the field, Cathy stopped in her tracks, holding her breath. Only now, in the stillness, could she hear the birdsong. And there, in front of her, their little girl atop his shoulders, was Thomas.

  Her family.

Finally, she was home.