#which would mean henry might not have cared about richard's deposition and been like 'oh boy now i'm going to be king :D :D :D :D'

[une-sanz-pluis]

I think a lot about Isabelle of Valois and Henry of Monmouth during Richard II's deposition. Two children whose lives were picked up and turned around, changed irrevocably by the deposition. There were other children caught up in, of course. The children of those executed in the Epiphany Rising. The children of those executed and murdered as part of Richard's revenge against the Lords Appellant. The teenaged Humphrey of Gloucester dying around the same time as Richard was deposed.

But none are quite so central to the story as Isabelle and Henry. How personally traumatic it was for them is unknowable and perhaps, in Henry's case, debatable. At the very least, it seems reasonable to assume that the deposition constituted a loss of childhood innocence for both of them. If Richard II's court was defined by a "culture of childhood", as Deanne Williams and James Simpson suggest, perhaps its destruction with Richard's deposition and Henry IV's assertion that the ideal king was one who had matured into manhood finds its ultimate symbol in the lives of Isabelle and Henry, uprooted by the events of 1399.

[swanqueeneverafter]

Sins of the Past Pt.2

The Fields of Dun Broch. (Merida stands in a field alongside David and Kristoff.) Merida: "Look at this. (Hands Kristoff a dead wheat stalk:) Every single ear has died. We’ve received reports that it’s the same throughout our lands. I rode through this valley only yesterday. The crop looked healthy enough then. Our farmers can't explain it." Kristoff: (Examining the stalk:) "No disease could have done this overnight." Merida: "What could kill all the plants other than a disease?" David: (Looks around:) "It is not killing all the plants. The trees and hedges around the crop fields are unharmed. Unfortunately, you can’t eat trees and hedges." Merida: "It’s only killing plants we can eat?" David: "It appears so." Merida: "So if it’s not a disease, it must be magic. It seems we truly are cursed." Storybrooke. Mayor's Office. (While Emma stands rocking Maria in her arms, Regina has called Will Scarlett into her office.) Will: "I already said I was sorry, it's not like I meant to do it." Emma: (Scoffs:) "Well first of all, you never apologised and second-" Regina: "Knocking my wife over in the street while running to win a bet is not something I'm prepared to take lying down." Emma: (Sensing Will is about to make a joke:) "Don't. Trust me, just don't." Regina: (As Will promptly closes his mouth:) "I swear, if my niece wasn't in love with your sister, you'd be nothing but a pile of ashes on the floor by now." Will: (Straightening his jacket, casually:) "But since that practically makes us family, you can't be doing that." Regina: "No. No I can't. But what I can do is have you make amends for your actions." Will: "Well hey, (Turns to Emma:) if you want me to kiss it better for you, I'm more than willing to-" Emma: (Cutting in:) "That's not what we had in mind." Will: (Smiles:) "Pity. (Sighs, turning back to Regina:) All right then, what do you want me to do?" Regina: "We'd like you to accompany Ella on her journey to Wonderland." Will: (Relieved:) "Is that all? No problem." Emma: "Across all areas of Wonderland. Parts that didn't make it into the story books." Will: (Eyes widening:) "Y-you want me to take her to... No, no I'm still a wanted man down there. You'd be signing my death warrant. (To Regina:) I'll take the pile of ash option before I go there again." Ella: (Entering the room:) "Please, Will. (Will turns to face her:) Henry and I, we've looked for my mother all over the realms with no sign of her. I know she's out there somewhere. (Moving closer to him:) I know how long it took you to find your way back to Alice. All I'm asking for is the chance to be reunited with someone that I love. Won't you help me?" Will: "You don't realise what you're asking, none of you. (Looking around the room, sighs:) All right, I'll do it. If your mother's out there then of course I'll help you find her. (Ella pulls Will into a huge hug, which Will returns until he sees the looks on the faces of Ella's would-be mother in laws. Pulling away, clears his throat:) Of course, I'm gonna have to ask Tiana before I can go anywhere." Ella: "Oh, I already asked her, actually it was her idea." Will: (Flatly:) "Oh, good."

Regina: "Then it's settled. No time like the present." Will: "N-now?" Emma: "Unless you've changed your mind about option A?" (Will shakes his head.) Ella: (Smiling:) "Oh this is going to be so great. I'm so excited." (Will allows himself to be pulled from the room as Emma watches them go with amusement.) Emma: "You know, (Turning back to Regina:) you're still pretty hot when you go all 'Madam Mayor' on people." Regina: "Why thank you 'Miss Swan'." Emma: (Bites her lip:) "Don't start." (At that moment the phone rings and, after giving her wife a flirtatious smile, Regina answers the call.) Regina: "Hello, Mayor Swan-Mills speaking. What? Where? Oh for god's sake. I'll be right there." Emma: (As Regina hangs up:) "Problem?" Regina: "Of the Charming variety. Come on, I'll explain on the way." Kingdom of Valencia. Marketplace. (Chef Vincenzo and Gwynne the maidservant are buying supplies in the marketplace.) Chef: "Look, I know a hook-up from your boss isn't the smoothest thing, but... I don't care. Because, truthfully, I think we could be great together.” Gwynne: "But love isn't meant for people like us." Chef: "Oh, I beg to differ." (Taking Gwynne's hand, the pair proceed to dance together through the marketplace.) Chef: ♪ If I could share my life with you ♪ ♪ Just think how happy we'd be ♪ ♪ We'd share our hovel built for two ♪ ♪ Complete with vermin for three ♪ (Gwynne chuckles.) ♪ We could while away each hopeless day ♪ ♪ Comparing open sores ♪ ♪ Yes, life would blow, but much less, though ♪ ♪ If I could share mine with yours ♪ Gwynne: “No, I can't. It's impossible! (Chef moves to turn away, disheartened when Gwynne pulls him back.) ♪ If I could share my life with you ♪ Chef: ♪ Admit it, it would be nice ♪ Gwynne: ♪ We'd share one cot, one chamber pot ♪ Chef: ♪ Plus trench mouth, tapeworms, and lice ♪ ♪ We would have a dozen kids ♪ Gwynne: ♪ And maybe one won't die ♪ Chef: ♪ And the plague ♪ Gwynne: ♪ The runs ♪ Chef: ♪ Invading huns ♪ Both: ♪ Just think how time would fly ♪ ♪ If you could share your life with me ♪ ♪ I'll Cherish every foul breath ♪ Gwynne: ♪ The filth ♪ Chef: ♪ The rot ♪ Gwynne: ♪ The leprosy ♪ Both: ♪ The painful, lingering death ♪ ♪ Thank the Lord our life expectancy ♪ ♪ Is merely thirty two ♪ Gwynne: ♪ Yeah, it might be sweet misery ♪ Both: ♪ To share what's left with yo-o-o-u ♪ Chef: “So, me, you, dinner tonight, my place. You bring that pretty little smile of yours, and I'll supply the rest. (Gwynne nods and hurries away. To himself:) Yes!” (Turning, Chef bumps into a creepy looking man.) Jonas: “Please, we seek King Richard. Where can he be found?” Chef: “I…” (Jonas presses a seal into Vincenzo’s hand.) Jonas: “We have urgent business with the King.” Chef: “I’m sorry, any business you have with the King will have to be pursued through the usual channels. (Chef looks at the seal:) But this is the seal of the House of Tregor. Where did you get this?” Jonas: “It does not belong to me.” (Jonas turns to a woman, who pulls back her hood.) Catrina: “It belongs to me.” Chef: “My Lady.” (Vincenzo bows.)

Storybrooke. Granny's Diner. (Ella and Henry talk about heading back to Wonderland.) Ella: "I just know my mother is still out there. Now with Will as our guide through Wonderland I can't wait to resume the search." Henry: (Hesitant:) "Well, if anyone knows the secrets of Wonderland, it's definitely Will... or Alice for that matter." Ella: "Why do I sense a 'but' coming?" Henry: (Takes a deep breath:) "Do you really think this is the right time for us to drop everything and continue looking for your mother? I mean we were barely saving any money with three jobs between us and now-" Ella: (Nods:) "I know, I know. But this is my family we're talking about, how can you ask me to-" Henry: "Woah, wait. I would never ask you to stop searching for your mom. I just think that maybe the time isn't right for 'us' to start the search again." Ella: "What are you saying?" Henry: (Taking her hand:) "I'm saying I love you and I think you should absolutely go with Will to Wonderland." Ella: (Frowning:) "Without you?" Henry: "Ella, I can't quit working right now. I'm trying to build a future for the both of us. To put a deposit down on a house of our own." Ella: "You know I don't care about those things." Henry: "But I do. I want to be able to provide for you, for our family, both future and absent." Ella: "Are you sure about this?" Henry: (Nods:) "Go find your mom, I'll be right here when you get back." Elsewhere in Storybrooke. (The Charmings, Robin Hood and other volunteers are working to help the people of Dun Broch.) David: "We've set up tents in the woods and surrounding areas." Emma: (Handing Maria to Snow:) "Exactly how many people is this?" David: "Around half. Queen Guinevere and Lancelot have offered to shelter the rest, but given Dun Broch and Camelot's history..." Snow White: "Not everyone was receptive to the idea." Regina: (Nods:) "So Storybrooke has the lion's share." (Running a hand through her hair, Regina walks away from the table, a concerned look on her face.) Emma: (Following:) "Hey, 'Gina, wait up. This is not the end of the world. So it might be a little cosy around here for a little while." Regina: "It might be a long while unless Merida can lift the curse on her land." Emma: "Well, she is a queen, it's not like she hasn't faced challenges before." Regina: "Yes, but no-one as far as I know has ever been stupid enough to kill a unicorn. Who knows what challenges Merida may have to face." Emma: (Shrugs:) "Sucks to be her, I guess."

Regina: "Excuse me?" Emma: "Oh come on, you can't tell me you're not just a little excited by all this." Regina: "By what, Storybrooke being inundated with refugees?" Emma: "No, think about it. Henry and Ella are headed to Wonderland, so we finally have the house to ourselves for awhile and, on top of that, there's a new curse." Regina: "So?" Emma: "So? Regina, for once we have nothing to do with what's going on. We can just sit back and watch how things work out." Regina: (Thinks:) "You want us to do nothing and let someone else lift the curse? (Emma nods:) So you want us to become your parents?" Emma: (Raises an eyebrow:) "I want to use this opportunity to show people that they don't have to come to us all the time to solve their problems. That they can do things for themselves. Ever since we united the realms of story, people have been coming to us to defeat the latest snow monster, gorgon or wayward god that threatens them." Regina: "Because our magic is the most powerful in all the realms." Emma: "Yes, but if Merida succeeds, it just might mean that our time as heroes can finally come to an end." Regina: (Finally catching on, smiling:) "You're talking about retirement?" Emma: (Smiles:) "I think we've earned it, don't you?" Regina: "Well I can't say I haven't thought about it." Emma: (Knowingly:) "Mmhmm. Although, if you're worried about us turning into my parents, you could always join me behind those trees over there. (As Regina glances back over her shoulder:) I'm pretty sure they wouldn't approve of what I have in mind." (With a sultry smirk, Emma walks past Regina deeper into the forest. Running a hand through her hair once more, Regina spares the gathered mass of people one last look before following her wife into the forest and out of sight.) Storybrooke Heritage Park. (Mulan and Xena are sparring with Ruby and Gabrielle watching on.) Mulan: "You're mine now, Warrior Princess." Xena: "You know what, Sweetie? You talk too much." (The sounds of swords clashing and various battle cries travel up to the hill on which Ruby and Gabrielle are sitting.) Ruby: (Wincing:) "They do know this is supposed to be for fun, right?" Gabrielle: "Oh, Xena likes her fun to be on the rough side of things. She says it gets her juices flowing." Ruby: "Not just hers though I'll bet." Gabrielle: (Her cheeks reddening:) "No comment." Ruby: (Laughs:) "Are you blushing?" Gabrielle: "No, I... I just don't usually talk about my private life with anyone but Xena is all." Ruby: "Mm I can understand that. There couldn't have been many chances to talk with other women on the road, huh?" Gabrielle: "Not unless you count barmaids or psychotic blonde warriors trying to kill either of us, no." Ruby: "I bet you're glad those days are over now." Gabrielle: (Inclines her head, considering:) "For the most part. Xena and I have never really been homebodies, although I think Xena's finally showing signs of wanting to slow down a little. (As she says this, Xena performs a perfect triple mid-air somersault, knocking Mulan to the ground with two feet to the chest before landing with a flawless back flip:) Or maybe not."

(Riding on horseback, Merida arrives calling for Mulan.) Merida: "Mulan! I need your help." Xena: (Steps forward as Mulan picks herself up off the ground:) "Anything we can do?" Merida: (Shaking her head:) "No, I need someone I can trust." Gabrielle: (Walking alongside Ruby:) "No offense taken." Merida: "Sorry, I... I need the help of my former mentor." Mulan: "Why, what's happened?" Merida: "Dun Broch is cursed and as Queen I need to make amends before it can be lifted." Xena: "Sounds like quite the problem." Ruby: "There must be something we can do?" Merida: "Aye, there are refugee camps set up at both Storybrooke and Camelot, they need volunteers to look after the sick and the elderly while I do my damnedest to lift this curse. (Offers her hand:) Please, Mulan, there's no time to lose." Mulan: (To Ruby:) "Go on, help the villagers, if we need you, we'll know where to come find you." (With that, Mulan takes Merida's hand and allows herself to be pulled up onto the horse before riding off into the distance. Twirling her sword a few times in frustration, Xena sighs, then walks past Ruby and Gabrielle to take a seat on a nearby tree stump. Exchanging looks, they follow Xena with Gabrielle taking a seat beside her.) Gabrielle: "So, should we go see if your medical skills can be put to good use?" Xena: (Casually checking her sword for signs of damage:) "Hm? Oh, sure. I mean it's not like I'm doing anything else important now am I?" Ruby: "Well, helping those in need is kind of your thing, right?" Xena: (Looking to her briefly:) "Of course." Gabrielle: "Are you all right?" Xena: "Never better. Who wants adventure in their lives anyway, right? Certainly not us anymore." (Watching Xena walk away, Gabrielle smirks up at Ruby before standing.) Gabrielle: "The tougher the warrior, the more they pout when they aren't invited to play." Xena: (From a short distance away:) "I heard that!"

Kingdom of Valencia. (After dropping a customer off in his cab, Henry takes a moment to stretch his legs and decides to walk around Valencia feeling a little down.) Henry: (To himself:) "Once upon a time I was the Author, now I'm not even a decent writer. I have no magic, no real discernible skills. I can sword fight but I'm not the best. So what then? Am I destined to be a cab driver all my life? (Sighs:) Honestly, I have no idea what I am. (Notices something:) Oh! (Stands watching a blacksmith at work.) ♪ If I were a jolly blacksmith ♪ ♪ What a happy guy I'd be ♪ ♪ I would do all kinds of blacksmith stuff ♪ ♪ In my blacksmithery ♪ ♪ I would hit the thing with the other thing ♪ ♪ Till I made a different thing ♪ ♪ If I were a jolly blacksmith ♪ No, I'm not feeling it. Besides, I'd get filthy. There must be something better. Ooh! (Henry walks over to a market stall:) ♪ If I were a friendly farmer ♪ ♪ Wouldn't that be, oh, so sweet? ♪ ♪ I'd be planting greens and lots of beans ♪ ♪ And other things to eat ♪ ♪ Then I'd plant some eggs, then a couple pigs ♪ ♪ Then a yummy chocolate cake ♪ No, that's not right. Besides, any moron can plant a cake. I want to be special, needed, liked. I've got it! (Arrives at the beer stall:) ♪ If I were a merry brewer ♪ ♪ That would be a grand career ♪ ♪ I would pick the grapes and peel the grapes ♪ ♪ And stomp them into beer ♪ Damn it! (Sighs:) I don't know how to do anything. ♪ If I'm just a jolly nothing ♪ ♪ What am I supposed to do? ♪ ♪ Don't know where to go ♪ ♪ Don't know how to fit ♪ ♪ Don't know who to even be ♪ ♪ If I were a jolly ♪ ♪ Tailor ♪ ♪ Juggler ♪ ♪ Barber ♪ ♪ Wet nurse ♪ ♪ Cesspool worker ♪ Ugh, what difference does it make? ♪ I would still be me ♪

Meanwhile In Storybrooke... (At the exact moment of her son's existential crisis, Regina Swan-Mills can be found against a tree thoroughly enjoying herself. Cradling her wife's head and balancing with one leg over Emma's shoulder, it is all the mayor can do to keep her cries of ecstasy as quiet as possible. That is until both women hear a branch snap somewhere nearby. Scrambling to their feet and trying desperately not to fall over each other, both women stand ready for whomever or whatever is coming their way. Staring at the place where they’d heard movement, they watch astonished as a strikingly beautiful yet haunted looking woman staggers out from behind a tall oak tree.) Storybrooke Campsite. (Having joined Snow, David and others distributing food to the refugees, Queen Guinevere turns at the sound of a commotion coming from the tree line. When first seeing Emma and Regina emerge in a disheveled state, most people's attention returned to their own business as this sight was a common one in and around Storybrooke. Upon seeing the woman following behind them however, Guinevere's reaction causes everyone to stop what they're doing and take notice.) Guinevere: "Morgana!"

[themalhambird]

Hello! For the word fic ask thing- either #35 or #100 (or both- whatever you're feeling). Can you tell I'm needing angst? >-

It’s pissing down with rain. Which means, because the Captainis a bastard and the sergeants just as bad, Tom- as the youngest- is the sod whohas to go take their prisoner for a walk, because no one who had a choice andwasn’t simple would ever choose to go out in weather like this and certainlynot on to battlements, which is where the warden insists that the prisoner bewalked each day. No way of escaping, off the battlements. No way of escapingfrom a dungeon deep below the earth, either, but the King’s orders are that hispredecessor be given daily exercise and air, so battlements it is. Tom stompshis way down to the cells, blesses his sister for sending him that thick woolcloak for the new year, but otherwise sets together a string of bitter cursesagainst whitebeards who get to lounge in front of the roaring fires whilemaking other people do all the hard work. His footsteps echo as he descends;the further down the stairs he gets the more clearly he can see his own breathin the torchlight. It’ll be miserable, he thinks, for Richard of Bordeaux to besoaked to the skin and then deposited back down here. Maybe he’ll get a cold and die, Tom thinks, and save us all the bother.

The cell door consists purely of iron bars. If it’s been anespecially boring shift, Robin likes to set the food down on the stairs-side ofthings, and make the old king try and reach through the bars for it. He’s gotlong arms, and pretty, slender fingers- he normally reaches. Whether he’s ableto drag it back towards himself without tipping it over on to the stones isanother matter, though he eats it all the same. The king of England, eatingscraps from off the floor like a dog. It’s funny to watch, though Tom never doesit himself. The Captain’s threatened to whip anyone he catches tormenting theircharge. Punishment’s one thing- torture’s another.The warden doesn’t mind it,but then- the warden wasn’t at Crechy with Richard’s da. Tom pauses to unlockthe door, fumbling with the keys a bit. His fingers are cold. He can seeRichard through the bars, huddling in the back right hand corner for warmth, rubbinghis arms as he shivers. Tom finally gets the door unlocked and pushes it open.It creaks on it’s hinges, and Richard flinches, but doesn’t look up. “Come on,”Tom says from the doorway. “Walk time.”

Richard’s shoulders tighten. He doesn’t move, except to raisehis head long enough to through Tom a look of utter contempt and draw furtherin on himself. Tom grits his teeth, anger flaring. So it’s like that today, isit, making life difficult for everyone- hisself included, just because for aprisoner he’s also a proud stubborn bastard who the warden hasn’t had strung upand whipped lately enough to keep him tame? Or maybe he’s just too cold to carewhat happens- well Tom doesn’t want to go outside either, but he’s got hisorders and Richard of Bordeaux can fucking well remember his place; Tom stridesacross the cell to him, grabs him by the front of his shift and hauls him upwards.He slams him against the wall and kicks the back of his left knee as hard as hecan manage. The knee slams in to the stone with an audible thud and a yelp. Tomflips him back around. Richard stares at the ground, head bowed, the model ofsorry obedience. His shift’s torn- His knee’s grazed- there are flecks of bloodwelling up. “Come on,” Tom says again. “Let’s get this over with.” He stepsback and gestures for the prisoner to go ahead- the man knows the way it goesby now. Richard goes ahead and Tom follows behind. At the top of the stairswill be the warden, waiting with the chains.

It takes a long time to get to the top of stairs. Partlybecause there’s a lot of stairs, partly because the prisoner’s limping. Tom chivviesand curses him- but only in his head. It’s his left leg the King’s favouring,and that’s partly Tom’s own doing. Not that he feels guilty, because he doesn’t,but still.

The Warden is not a particularly striking man, not at firstglance. He’s the stocky kind of thin and on the taller end of average height. Brownhair like anybody’s. But then you take a second glance- and a third, and afourth, and you can’t stop looking. There’s something about him that makes itimpossible to look away, to ignore him. Tom doesn’t know what it is. Though onthis particular occasion, Tom thinks it’s probably the way he’s dangling twopairs of manacles from his hand. “Tom, isn’t it? Short straw for you, I’mafraid- the weather is terrible. Bring him to me when you’re done, he’ll need achange of clothes.”

Tom nods, tries to pretend that being so close to the Wardendoesn’t make him swallow his own tongue from nerves, and manages to say, “Yes, SirPiers,” without stumbling. Sir Piers Exton turns to Richard, and clicks histongue.

“Hold these, your grace.” he says, handing Richard one setof the chains. Richard takes them wordlessly. Exton kneels down and fastens theother pair around Richard’s bare ankles. Tom doesn’t know why the Wardeninsists on being the only one who puts chains on the old king, or takes themoff again, though he thinks, perhaps, the humiliated blush on Richard’s cheekas Exton stands again, takes the chains from Richard and bids him turn around withhis hands behind his back might have something to do with it.

The rain’s pissing down.

It’s impossible to hurry: Richard can’t do much more than hobble.He’s soaked to the skin before they’ve gone three yards, shift clinging to him,long hair plastered across his face and shoulders and neck. Between theshackles, and his bare feet, and his leg, and the fact he’s bent over againstthe elements, it’s hard going. Tom keeps a firm grip of his arm- the last thingthey need’s him falling and hurting himself more. At length, they complete thecircuit, and Tom- anxious to get to his own dry clothes- enlists Wat’s help-since Wat was just lounging by the door instead of guarding it, the lazy sod-to carry him to the Warden’s office. Richard doesn’t struggle, which shows howmiserable he is- normally he at least attempts to kick when someone tried to grabhim by the legs. Tom knocks on the door, shoves Richard through it, and is gladto be dismissed instantly.

Richard stands before his gaoler, and tries to relax himselfenough that Exton will be unable to have the satisfaction of seeing him shiver,or hear his teeth chattering together. It’s a futile effort: he was coldbefore, now he’s freezing, and the sudden switch in temperature between hiscell and the battlements, and the Warden’s warm study is enough to make hisfingers and toes tingle in an unpleasant, burning sort of way. He’s grateful whenExton unchains him at once, and hates himself for being grateful. “Out of that,”Exton says, meaning the dripping, tattered shift, and Richard obeys at oncebecause the last time he hesitated when Exton told him to get undressed, thewarden had the clothes torn off him. Exton hands him a sheet and Richard wrapsit tightly around himself, once more pathetically grateful that he’s beenallowed a modicum of comfort. “Sit,” Exton tells him, and Richard sits on thestool opposite the warden’s desk, as the warden goes around to the other side,sits in the chair, and rests his elbows on the desk as he steeples his fingerstogether. “Your cousin has sent you some things,” he says, “ A nice, warm setof clothes, complete with a cloak; also a pair of boots.”

Richard fights to keep his face neutral, because grimacing, scowling,glaring, or otherwise looking unimpressed at the mention of Henry Bolingbroke’sname has a tendency to get him slapped. Not that he supposes he’ll ever see into a mirror again, but he would prefer to keep his face as undamaged aspossible, just in case…

“The king is very generous,” he says politely, because Extonseems to be waiting for him to say something.

“Yes he is,” Exton agrees, “But it wasn’t the king I wasreferring to.”

Richard’s heart skips a beat. The warmth from the fire blazingaway in the hearth  seems to have spreadinside his chest; for the first time in a long, long while Richard feels…happy?“Edward?” he whispers.

���The Duke of York, yes.”

“The Duke of-“ Abruptly, the warmth vanishes ,and Richardfeels his insides crumpling like paper discarded by a frustrated student. “MyUncle is dead?”

“Hm? Oh, yes, the Duke’s father died last year, didn’t youknow?”

“How could we possibly know, we were not informed!”

For the briefest of moments, Exton looks startled. Richardis himself startled by his sudden blaze of temper- a fire sprung up out ofnowhere from ashes they had both long thought were colder than death itself.But then, Richard has never handled losing people well, and there were athousand things he wanted to say to Edmund of Langley, and a thousand thingsthat he wanted to hear from Edmund of Langley, and now it is all too late, toolate…and Ned has lost his father, and Richard is not there to comfort him, andRichard loathes Bolingbroke as he has never loathed before. They should havetold him. They should have let him go to him.

Exton masks his surprise quickly enough. “Sit. Down.”  he says softly, and Richard realises that hehas shot to his feet.

He sits, because he wants to cling to the anger inside him.It is so much better than apathy, so lovely to be feeling something again, andif he stays on his feet and gives defiance to his captor, it will be beaten outof him in a matter of hours, flames of temper quenched by pain and misery andfear. “Forgive me, my lord” he whispers, lowering his eyes to the floor beforeExton can say anything else. “It was the shock, I had no idea-I’m sorry, I’msorry-“ he mumbles, and bites the side of his hand to show that he’s anxiousand afraid, because there is no Court for him to hide such gestures from,anymore.

“You are forgiven, your grace.” Exton says, and Richardlowers his hand to his lap, and looks up. The tears prickling at his eyes arefor York, and not his own misconduct, but Exton will see what he wants to see,which is King Richard broken for Exton’s master Bolingbroke so-called Harry thefourth. “As I was saying, the Duke of York sent you some things-“ he pauses, asthough considering something. “Prove to me that you can behave,” he says, “fora week. Just so that we can be sure that little outburst of yours was, indeed, justthe shock, and not the start of a return to old ways. Then you may have theclothes that your cousin sent you. For now, I’ll find you another shift. Youcan sit in here until your hair is dry; I don’t want you catching a cold.”

‘Then don’t force me to walk out in the rain,’ Richardthinks contemptuously, ‘and don’t lock me up in hole that’s colder than an icehouse at Christmas.’ Outwardly, he bows his head  once more and whispers: “Thank you, my lord.” Healmost means it. In a week’s time, he will have the things that his Edward sentto him- for the now, he knows that Edward is alive, that he is (surely) well. Yorkis dead, and Richard is sad, but now the shock is over, and the assurance thathe has not been abandoned, he has not been forgotten, is starting to warmRichard all over again.