The Twelve Days of Christmas
Disclaimer: I am neither a Historian, a Theologian, nor a TV Producer; I therefore do not own anything.
Pairings: Anthony Knivert/Anne of Cleves
Chapter Two: Still, Still, Still
The air was full of thick, white flakes. They fell fast from darkened skies like stars an earth, they glowed in the moonlight and flew on the wind. The wind that whipped over the countryside and made the beauty of the new snow, a blizzard. The trees sparkled with a glaze of ice, branches twinkled and winked, enchanted.
Anthony Knivert did not care if freezing rain had given way to blowing snow. He was inside, Yule Log glowing in the hearth, warm Wassail in his hand. The blizzard was beautiful.
"Oh Tony," from beside him Anne of Cleves spoke, her soft German accent distressed. "Oh Tony, it…it is a Schneesturm! You are stick. I'm-" She was going to apologize, she always apologized and she never needed to. What did she have to be sorry for? That he wanted to come. That he wanted to be here, with her, to celebrate the season to be the family she had in England a person to fill the void of her relatives in Germany? No, she should not apologies; there was no reason for it.
He sat his glass on the window sill and pulled the heavy curtain around them both, blocking out all light save the moon and the stars lighting the snow.
"Shhhhhhh." Tony whispered taking the former Queen into his arms.
Still, Still, Still
One can hear the falling snow
For all is hushed,
the world is sleeping,
Holy star its vigil keeping
Still, Still, Still
One can hear the falling snow
Anne closed her eyes and sunk into the warm embrace. Tony held her close and snow continued to fall around them. It was peaceful. She was content. No longer lonely, without family or friend. She was warm, she was embraced, and if she dared dream she was loved. Anne opened her eyes and looked up at the man. He was no longer watching the snow he once found so beautiful. He was watching her. Christmas star reflecting in his deep, dark eyes. Snow, like the magic of the season all around them.
Sleep, sleep, sleep
'tis the eve of our Savior's birth
close your eyes
Let sleep surround you
Sleep, sleep, sleep
'tis the eve of our Savior's birth
Anne yawned, her breath soft and warm as he carried her up the castle stairs, her angelic, sleepy face tucked against his neck. They had stood for a long time in stillness, cocooned in their own little world of snow and each other, the rest of the household rushing by them as if they didn't exist. Which helped the world fall away around them. For a time it was just the beautiful Queen, the gentle Knight and the snow. It was nearly midnight now and the beautiful Queen needed her royal rest. So tired was she that she could hardly stand. Yet she fought him every step of his way to her chambers.
"Oh Tony," she whispered as he laid her on her bed. He remained bent over her, her arms still around his neck, half hoping she'd pull him down with her and spare him the self control as she talks. "Oh Tony, I am so sorry, your holiday is ruined, you are stuck here with me. Unable to go home, far from your friends." Her eyes mist and it kills him. It kills him every time she thinks she is a burden, not a woman.
"Annie," he whispers, tucking an errant curl behind her delicate ear. "I wanted to be her, I want to be with you." Her body is bringing sleep fast through her mind wishes to remain awake. She yawns again.
"When you're with me you always take care of me… you teach me Englisch, you kill the rats… you…. You carry me…" Her words jumbled and faded, some were English, others German. "Won't you ever get tired of looking after me?" Tony felt the answer in his heart.
"No." He whispered, "I will never tire of being your knight." Anne was already asleep.
The great clock began to strike the hour.
Dong, Dong, Dong
He wrapped a blanket tightly around her.
Dong, Dong, Dong
Dropping a lingering kiss onto her smooth forehead. Tony stood and snuffed the bedside candle before stoking the fire into crackling life.
Dong, Dong, Dong
Pausing at her door before making his way to the guest chambers he cast a final eye about the room. All was calm, all was still.
Dong, Dong, Dong
"Merry Christmas, Annie." He whispered.
Dream, dream, dream
of the joyous day to come
while guardian angels without number
watch you as you sweetly slumber
Dream, dream, dream
of the joyous day to come.