Thorn of a Tudor Rose
She's the daughter of a Time Lord and a Tudor, though she wasn't supposed to exist, both in history or canon. And that's not to mention the memories of another life floating through her head. (Reincarnated!OC)
"What was that?" Margaret asked, as Henry removing her necklaces from her, then she removed the cross for him. "Why was the metal burning?" She took their pieces of jewelry and placed in in the small bag she had attached around her middle, under the stomacher.
"God's judgment," Mary wiped a tear from her cheek, "he is punishing us for our sins. Children," her hands clutched onto Henry and Margaret's shoulders, "we must repent. I cannot lose you too."
"No, no," the Doctor shook his head, giving Susanne Meyer a sad look, "this is not God's punishment. This is murder."
Henry, who had hardly spoken at all, sniffled, "Is Rose going to be like that?" He clutched Mary's hand, whose own was shaking, her face pale. Margaret felt bad, she must have looked to be rather… annoying in the eyes of Rose Tyler and the Doctor, and she knew that if she had seen her on-screen she'd hate her, but Rose was missing, unexplained things surrounded them, and there was nothing else to assume than it being God's will.
"Not if I can stop it," the Doctor's face was very serious, "but we must alert the Queen. Children are going missing her Palace, and her mother is found dead." He looked at Margaret, who stared back at him with brown eyes swarming with emotion. "I'm sorry, Lady Margaret, but we have to tell your mother."
That was what she was afraid of. Her mother having to talk to him, either alerting the Doctor that he, in the near future, married Queen Elizabeth I, or turning into a rage when she realized he did not know her. She had to come up with something quick, so she stood straight and narrowed her eyes, nodding her head in understanding, "May I speak to her first?"
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Margaret stood before her mother, feeling like a scolded child. "Mama…" she played with her fingers, nervous, "something has happened."
Her mother turned to face her. Her hairline was just recently shaved, and it always took a few days for it to look typical again. Her face was covered with a layer of white paint, though a small patch had been wiped away, showing the discoloring from the lead beneath. Margaret pursed her lips and reminded herself to inform her, before she was embarrassed by someone else doing it.
"My…" the words didn't want to come out of her mouth, but she made them, "father is here." Elizabeth's blue eyes flashed with alert, "but he doesn't know us. And he travels with a blonde girl."
The Queen sighed, hands being pressed against her stomacher, as she did often when exhausted. "Your father does not follow the rules of time," she knew this already, but nodded, allowing her mother to continue, as she knew she wasn't supposed to know.
So she stood and listened as her mother explained how her father traveled in time and space, and how he is brilliant, and how he changes his face — which caused a small moment of panic for Margaret. Would she also change her face? She rather liked this one.
And, when her mother was done explaining and Margaret gave her a sad smile, she said, "Mama, Catherine Stalker has gone missing,"
The Queen rather liked the Stalker children. She was only claimed to be Margaret's godmother, but she acted as if her siblings were her nieces and nephews, and had hand-picked the Governesses assigned to the children old enough. When Little John was sick with the illness that took his hearing, she called upon the best doctors England could produce.
Though, Margaret presumed a lot of it was thanks to that Mary raised her.
The Queen looked horrified, her hands lifted from her stomacher and to her mouth, mouth wide in horror.
"So," She eyed her mother, "you won't act like you… know him?"
Elizabeth squared her shoulders and looked firmly at the door, as if the Doctor himself was stood right there to greet her, "I cannot allow something as fickle as emotions to go before the safety of my people."
Margaret almost laughed. That was not how her father and sister ruled before her.
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Elizabeth walked proudly. She held her head up, kept her eyes focused forwards, and moved with confidence that could only come from a Queen beloved by her people. Margaret held her hand and led her to the hallway, where stood Henry, the Doctor, Rose Tyler, Mary, and two servants laying a sheet over the body of Susanne.
"Boy!" The Queen called, and the younger of the two servants, no older than ten, with red cheeks and a head of blonde hair, looked up and automatically bowed. "Stand," he did, "what is happening?"
"Your Majesty," the boy started, obviously trying his best not to look nervous, "Wife of Arnulf Meyer, from Germany. Her body was found by servant Matthew Connel, covered in wax, my Queen."
If her face was not already coated in white, Margaret is sure her mother would have paled considerably. She turned her eyes to the Doctor, who grinned at her, "Ah! Good Queen Bess," he reached into his pocket and pulled out what looked to be a blank piece of paper, flashing it towards her, "John Smith, here is my credentials —"
"Good sir Smith, I daresay it says that you have been appointed my personal protector."
The Doctor checked the paper himself, frowning, "So it does."
Rose Tyler laughed from beside him, "What? The second time?"
Margaret figured that saying her full name would get annoying, so Rose Tyler was now dubbed Rose, and her Rose would be called Catherine.
Confusing.
Like how she saw the paper as blank. That meant something, she knew this, but her memory fell short to recall just what it meant. So, she didn't think about it.
"I don't understand," Margaret spoke, "you're English, surely you have not met another Queen?" Queen Victoria, she was pretty sure. Or maybe Queen Anne? But Queen Victoria was the more famous one, so probably her. The Doctor had a thing for famous historical figures.
Her mother gave her a look, reprimanding with her eyes, most likely mentally chiding her for asking questions she knew the answer to. Margaret blushed in response, dropping her eyes to her shoes. Her toes brushed the end, they'd need to be molded again.
"My Majesty," Mary spoke, brushing tears off of her cheek with the back of her hand, "the safety of Lady Margaret has been endangered," her eyes flickered over to the sheet covering Susanne, "I can no longer promise her security in my care."
"Mother?" Henry looked aghast, "I thought the man spoke makebelieve when he claimed Margaret to be the princess?"
"Not now, Henry —"
"But Mother!"
"Henry." Mary's stern look silenced him, other than a small apology for speaking out of turn, and all eyes turned to Elizabeth.
The Queen eyed the Doctor harshly, "You will explain yourself. You are not a member of the court, my apparent protector, and at your mysterious turn-up, my subjects go missing or end up dead."
The Doctor, apparently, wasn't listening to her. He was lucky he's an alien, because you can't just be rude to the Queen of England. "You," he faced one of the servants who placed the sheet on Susanne, "where would one find wax?"
"On candles, sir."
"Right, right," he turned to Rose, "where would one find candles?"
She stared at him, "Uh… on the walls?"
"No, no, no," he tapped his fingers against his forehead, "candles, candles, candles. Candle wax. Wax, wax, wax." His eyes moved from candle to candle, the unlit ones that littered the walls, meant for when it became dark. Then, he straightened out, "Right! A candlemaker!"
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this was so hard to write and i have no clue why? idk! the pacing just seems weird and i know what i want to happen but it fell short. Hm! its definitely shorter than i had hoped for