roses are red, roses are white

by Forever in Your Heart

remember this as a tragedy, as a warning for those who covet the throne. a crown is always paid for in blood and no king or queen ever lives to see happily ever after. (but do not forget our glory, our victories, our heroics. history will record our failures, follies, weaknesses. you will witness our triumphs) gadge. historical au

7. a lullaby from the sea part one

AN Hi! This was supposed to be only one chapter, but it definitely got away from me so I split it up. The second half should be up in a few days, I'm just finishing it up. This is an interlude (so technically not part of the main story), but I really think it's important for what's to come. I've been really excited to write it and as soon as it's done, we're off to part 2: the thorns of Lancaster, so I hope you enjoy!

---

roses are red, roses are white
interlude
a lullaby from the sea
part one of two
fairy hearts

1470

Annie clutches tightly to Robert the squire as they make their desperate flight from Rochester, Haymitch's words ringing in her ears.

We're the rebels

Her heart thuds heavily in her chest, worry clashing with hope.

What does that mean? Could it...could it be...Finnick, are you finally coming home?

---

1455

Annie is almost four when they meet for the very first time.

A lazy June is fading into a rainy July when a letter arrives from the Earl of Pembroke asking if he may avail himself of their hospitality. He is passing by her father's Great Canfield Castle on his way home from somewhere up north and her parents leap into action, cleaning and cooking and preparing. The whole castle buzzes with activity and Anne isn't entirely sure why they're so excited; they never are when Uncle George and his great gaggle of children come to visit (not that Anne is either, her cousins are very annoying). Still, she can't help being a little eager too; after all, the only people she's ever met are relatives or servants.

The long awaited (or at least it feels long to Anne) Earl arrives on a Tuesday and her governess Mags laces her into her best dress, the blue one with the pretty bird pattern, and then ties ribbons in her hair.

"Don't you look lovely," she says fondly and Anne preens. She feels lovely and she skips down to the entrance hall, her poppet Lizbet held snugly in her arms. I wonder what this earl is like...I hope he's nice. Her parents are already there, her daddy pacing about in dark velvet and her mummy running her hands over her round tummy (apparently there's a baby in there, not that anyone will explain to Anne how it got there).

"Their rooms are ready?" her daddy demands and Mummy purses her lips.

"Yes, my lord."

"The cook is prepared?"

"Of course."

"Everything must be perfect Mary," he says sternly and Mummy's eyes narrow.

"I know John," she replies, tone annoyed, and they glare at each other. Anne squeezes Lizbet and though she doesn't understand it, she certainly feels the tension in the air around them. It's not an unfamiliar tension, her parents rarely seeing eye to eye, but thankfully their guest comes cantering through the gates and her parents transform into the perfect hosts, all smiles and good cheer.

(maybe they should have guests more often)

The Earl of Pembroke rides in on his horse, looking just like a great Earl should Anne decides, but he is not alone. Just behind him comes a boy perhaps a year or two older than Anne, his hair shining bronze in the sunlight. She stays focused on him as the Earl dismounts, her curiosity piqued. The only children she's ever met are her cousins and this boy, whoever he is, is immediately interesting for not being related to her. The Earl shakes her daddy's hand and then kisses her mummy's, while a groom helps lift the boy down from his horse.

"Welcome to Great Canfield, Lord Boggs. It is an honour to have you here," her daddy says and Boggs smiles warmly.

"It is my honour Lord Oxford. It has been a long ride and we appreciate the chance to rest."

He gestures then for that boy to come forward and he does, Boggs dropping a hand to his shoulder.

"And my nephew, Finnick," he introduces and Anne runs his name over in her mind. Finnick.

"Ah yes, and this is our daughter, Anne," her daddy says and pulls her forward. She hugs Lizbet close and looks at this Finnick, with his chubby cheeks and green green eyes.

I wonder if I'll like him...

---

Her parents and Boggs go off to do grown-up things, leaving Anne and Finnick to Mags' care.

Anne feels shy, too shy to say anything, so she hides her lower face behind Lizbet and stares at him with big eyes. He's only a tiny bit taller than she is with a round face, tanned skin and coppery hair that curls around his ears. That hair's a bit messy from the ride, his nose is reddened by the sun and the only thing he seems to have in common with his uncle is his pretty pretty green eyes. Boggs is taller (but then, he is much older), has no hair and his skin is a dark brown, but his eyes are just like Finnick's and Anne wishes she knew more words so she could describe that special shade of green. He turns to look her over and she feels her face heat up, an embarrassing wave of bashfulness washing over her. He looks at her a little warily, as if she might bite, and Anne cannot help but wonder if he's met many girls that do.

"The king is my uncle," he says suddenly and Anne's eyes go wide. She's never met the king, but she's heard her parents talking about him before and she's understood enough to know that it's impressive for Finnick to be related to him.

"My uncle's a knight," she offers, mumbling into Lizbet's hair, and Finnick leans in with a frown.

"Huh?" he asks and Anne ducks her head, her skin burning. He continues to look at her and she shakes her head, too nervous to say anything else. Thankfully, he accepts this.

"My cousin Cato's going to be king someday too," he says, though he doesn't sound very excited about it. Anne just continues to stare at him, her tongue useless in her mouth.

"Oh no," Mags sighs, "I've broken my needle, I'll have to get a new one. I'll be right back."

They watch her leave and as soon as she's out the door, Finnick turns to Anne.

"Can we go outside?" he asks and Anne frowns. Mags never said we couldn't...

She nods.

"Lizbet think so," she murmurs and he grins.

"Great, let's go!"

He heads straight outside and Anne trails after him, Lizbet hugged in her arms. The ground's still muddy from last night's rainfall and Finnick stops just outside the doors, peering around with his hands on his hips. Anne almost asks him what he's looking for, after all, this is her daddy's castle and she knows it fairly well, but the words get swallowed up in her throat. She'd been so excited to meet this new boy but now that he's here, she's never felt more timid.

"Aha!" Finnick says, perking up suddenly. He hurries forward and Anne struggles to keep up, her shorter legs and long skirts slowing her down. She stumbles over the sloppy, uneven ground but Finnick just charges ahead, leaving her behind just the way Cousin Georgie does.

Anne is not impressed.

Her boot sinks suddenly into a squelchy, wet puddle and she squeaks as her foot disappears into the muck. She tries to pull it out but can't, frustrated, angry tears starting to burn in her eyes. She stomps the foot not trapped in goop and Finnick actually stops rather than running off without her. He turns but he doesn't laugh or even say something snotty like Cousin John would (that's the problem with being the baby of the family (except for Ursula, but no one plays with Ursula, she's only two), everyone is always older and never very fun). He winces, his green eyes filled with distress.

"Oh no," he says and hurries back to help. Anne looks at him in bewilderment as he takes her hand (and it might've been easier if he'd held both, but it's not as if she could put Lizbet down) and pulls, her leg leaving the guck with an awful suctiony noise.

"Sorry," he apologizes, "I shouldn't have gone so fast."

Anne just stares at him.

"Anne?" he asks anxiously, as if afraid she might be cross and she shakes her head.

"Lizbet doesn't think it was your fault," she says (even though Anne herself kind of does, but then, Lizbet's always had the better manners) and he blinks, looking down at Lizbet in her arms.

"Oh," and then he smiles, "thanks Lizbet."

Anne bites her lip but wants to smile too, and Finnick doesn't run off this time, he stays right by her side. He leads her all the way to the river and then peers down into it with a grin, his whole face glowing. The sunlight flittering through the clouds makes the water glitter and Anne looks down at their reflections, the light breeze making their faces ripple. She feels a little breathless as the river slides by, something magical about it that she can't quite put her finger on. Finnick sits down on the wet grass and yanks off his boots, fumbles with his belt and then tugs off his hose, his tongue sticking out of his mouth. Anne watches him in confusion and he looks up at her with sparkly eyes.

"Do you wanna put your feet in?" he asks, "I do it all the time back home."

Anne blinks a few times and then nods shyly. She sits beside him, the damp soaking through her skirts and she pulls them up over her knees. She frowns at her boots and it takes both her and Finnick to figure out how to unlace them. As soon as they free her feet she plunges them into the water, gasping a bit at the cold. Finnick follows suit and smiles at her.

"Can you swim?" he asks and she shakes her head, feeling silly.

"I love swimming, I could teach you," he offers and Anne feels something happy bloom in her chest.

"Lizbet would like that," she whispers and he nods, looking up at the sky.

"Okay, but maybe when it's warmer. Hey, doesn't that look like a rabbit?"

Anne follows his eyes and stares up at the clouds.

"Lizbet thinks so."

"Good, cause rabbits are lucky," he says and then he looks off to his left and gasps. Anne looks too and there is a great big rock, gray and mossy. Finnick stands and rushes over to it, his boots and hose forgotten. He immediately clambers on top and Anne watches with wide eyes as he scrambles up and stands, wobbling slightly, before nodding.

"I can see France from here," he declares and Anne's mouth drops open.

"Really?"

He nods and then looks over at her.

"Would Lizbet like a look?" he asks and Anne's heart thunks. She nods and stands, walking slowly over to him. Her bare feet sink into the mud and she tentatively hands Lizbet over. Finnick puts her on his shoulder and then holds her legs so she doesn't fall off.

"See, right over there," he points and Anne follows his finger but can't see France, though maybe it's because she's on the ground. Finnick peeks down at her.

"Do you wanna come up?" he asks and Anne bites her lip before nodding slowly.

"Okay," he says, "but remember, I'm almost six, so you might not see it."

Anne nods because that seems sensible and then he takes her by the elbow. He helps haul her up and her bare feet scrabble on the rock, trying to climb up.

"Anne Cresta! What are you doing? Get down!"

Finnick's face goes pale at Mags' shout and Anne slides down into the muck. She turns and Mags is running towards them, her face very red. Finnick slips off the boulder to land beside her, Lizbet squeezed in his hands.

"What were you two thinking? I go off for five minutes...oh, look at you," Mags says with a sigh and Anne looks down. There is mud all over her dress and she can feel it squishing between her toes. Mags shakes her head.

"And you," she says to Finnick, dirty legged and in his breeches. She sighs again.

"Alright, let's go and get you cleaned up before your lady mother sees you," she says and takes Anne's hand. She gathers up their discarded clothes and Finnick follows slowly behind, his head bowed. They go up to the nursery and Mags sits Anne down on a bench, her arms full of gucky boots and Finnick's hose.

"Stay here," she tells them sternly as she goes to fetch clean things and Anne looks over at Finnick. He's biting his lip, eyes on the floor and Anne frowns.

"Finnick?" she asks and he flinches.

"Sorry," he whispers and she looks at him in confusion.

"Why?"

"Cause I got you in trouble. I don't want you to be in trouble."

Anne shrugs.

"Lizbet doesn't mind," she says and he looks up at her in surprise.

"Really?"

Anne nods.

"Yes, she had fun."

Finnick grins and Anne's tummy feels warm.

"Me too," he says and Anne smiles back at him. He sits beside her, Lizbet in his lap and right then and there, Anne decides she is very, very happy he came to visit.

(he's much better company than her cousins)

---

After dinner they play cards, Mags watching them much, much more intently.

She's meant to be stitching but all she does is stare at them instead, as if expecting trouble. Mags has always told her staring was rude, but Anne decides not to mention it, since Mags was nice enough not to tell Mummy or Daddy about their fun in the mud. They don't get up to any trouble but since she's never actually played cards before, it falls on Finnick to teach her. He is very excited to show her something new, his eyes bright and sparkly and he is very patient every time she forgets a rule (which is more often than she'd like to admit). He even deals a hand to Lizbet, though she's not very good at all. Anne looks down at her cards and then at Finnick, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Lizbet is glad you're teaching us," she says, "your lessons are much more fun than Mags'."

He grins.

"Yeah? I hate lessons; they're so boring. I don't think my tutor Master Sprindrel likes me very much."

Anne frowns but Finnick just shrugs.

"I don't like him much either, he's very stuffy."

"Lizbet likes Mags," she says, "though her lessons aren't always very fun."

"Lessons never are," Finnick sighs and Anne nods, "but Uncle Boggs says I have to do them."

Thinking of his uncle, a sudden thought occurs to her.

"Where's your mummy and daddy?" she asks and he blinks at her, before looking back down at his cards.

"My father's with God," he says and Anne nods. She's never sure what that means, though her parents have said the same thing about her grandparents. All she does know is that people with God never seem to come back.

"I never met him," Finnick continues but then lights up.

"He was locked up in a dungeon before he left for heaven," he says and Anne gasps.

"Wow," she breathes. "Why?"

He shrugs.

"I dunno, but it must've been for trying to fight some great evil or something. Uncle Boggs always tells me he was a hero."

"That's...Lizbet thinks that's amazing," she tells him and he grins. She furrows her brow.

"What about your mummy?"

He frowns.

"She lives with her new husband, Plu-tarch Hea-vens-bee," he says slowly, separating each syllable.

"I thought only mummies and daddies were husband and wife," she says in confusion and he shrugs.

"I guess not," he says and another question occurs to her.

"But why aren't they here?"

"Why would they be?"

"Don't you live with them?"

He shakes his head.

"I live with Uncle Boggs."

"Why?"

"I dunno, the King thought it'd be better like this. I'm glad though, Plu-tarch's got this nephew, Darius, and he always follows me around. It's annoying."

Anne nods and how odd, not to live with your mummy or daddy.

"It's your turn," he says and she looks back down at her cards. All her other questions start to disappear, all her focus swallowed up by the game.

(and perhaps that's the best part of being young, it is so easy to forget all your concerns)

---

The next morning it's already time for them to leave and Anne cannot help but pout.

It's been fun having someone other than Lizbet to play with and she doesn't want to say goodbye. She watches sullenly as they load up their things, Lizbet clutched tight against her chest. Her parents and Boggs talk to each and Finnick wanders over to her, not looking nearly as upset as she feels.

"I guess this is goodbye," he says and she nods, squeezing Lizbet.

"I had fun, thanks!" he continues brightly and a little bit of her bad temper vanishes.

"Lizbet too," she murmurs and he grins. A groom comes to lift him up onto his horse and he waves, his smile wide.

"Maybe we'll see each other again," he says and she nods, lifting up Lizbet and making her little hand wave. He rides off and I hope so, she thinks, I really, really hope so.

---

1468
March

Finnick had always known that exile was a possibility.

He'd never said it aloud of course, his uncle would've had his head, but defeat was always an option. Someone had to lose and that could be either side, he'd acknowledged that. He didn't know if the Yorkists had any intention of offering pardons, but it didn't really matter where he was concerned. He was the king's nephew, damned by his own blood and there would be no pardon offered to him, no forgiveness. This war could only end one of three ways for him.

Victory, death or exile.

Well now it's over and he rides as hard as he's ever ridden, trying to outrun death itself.

Exile it is.

(and there's a moment when he thunders across England that he thinks of all he's leaving behind and almost turns right around)

(this isn't the end)

(I'll be back, I swear)

---

1457

Finnick is a few months shy of eight when they see each other again.

"How would you feel about company this summer?" Uncle Boggs asks one night over dinner and Finnick perks up immediately. And then wilts.

"Cousin Cato?" he asks, unable to cover his pout, and Uncle Boggs laughs.

"No, not cousin Cato. Do you remember the Earl of Oxford?"

Finnick shakes his head.

"We visited him in Essex two years ago. He has a daughter about your age, Anne, I think."

Finnick's eyes go wide and he does remember her, of course he does.

"And Lizbet!" he says, remembering her very favourite poppet too. Uncle Boggs frowns.

"No, he only has the one daughter."

Finnick shakes his head.

"Lizbet's her poppet," he corrects and Uncle Boggs look at him strangely.

"Right. Well, I mentioned to the Earl that we'd be spending the summer at Hadleigh and since his Hedingham Castle is so close, he thought he might bring his family for a visit. What do you think?"

Finnick nods eagerly. He loves company (as long as it isn't Cousin Cato) and Anne was nice he remembers.

"Wonderful," Uncle Boggs says, "I'll let Earl John know right away."

---

It is June when they all meet up at Hadleigh and Finnick bounces up and down as the Oxford family rolls through the gates with a great train of horses and baggage carts and a fancy looking litter. A man that must be Earl John swings off his horse and Uncle Boggs goes over to shake his hand. Finnick ignores them as they talk, much too busy trying to find Anne. A servant opens the litter's door and helps down a lady that must be Anne's mother, her hair covered up by one of those silly hats ladies are always wearing. Uncle Boggs bows and kisses her hand.

"Lady Mary, welcome," he says and then finally Anne comes out of the litter. She looks just like Finnick remembers her, dark haired and big eyed and clutching little Lizbet in her arms. He hurries over while she peers about in wonder, her arms tightening on Lizbet.

"Hello!" he says excitedly and she looks at him, her whole face lighting up.

"Finnick! Lizbet missed you," she says and he grins. He thinks of Uncle Boggs and Lady Mary and wanting to look grown up, he takes Anne's hand and kisses it. He's not really sure what the point of it is, but he feels very gentlemanly. Not wanting Lizbet to feel left out, he kisses her tiny hand too. He looks back at Anne and she beams, her cheeks a pretty pink.

"Lizbet's very happy to be here," she says and he smiles.

"Me too," he says and then Uncle Boggs leads everyone inside, Lady Mary holding onto his arm. Finnick watches them go and bites his lip. He looks at Anne, looks back at Uncle Boggs and Lady Mary and then nods. He puts his arm out in front of Anne but she doesn't take it. She merely blinks at it and then at him, clearly confused. Finnick feels his face go hot and he gestures at Uncle Boggs and her mother with his head.

"Oh!" Anne says, eyes wide, and then she takes hold of his arm. He pulls her after the grown-ups, feeling quite grown-up himself. They go up to the rooms the Oxfords will be staying in and when Anne goes to unpack, Finnick knows he was right.

It's only been a few minutes, but she's already much better company than Cato.

(not, to be fair, that that's very hard)

---

He tries to teach Anne a new card game after supper and her kindly-faced nurse is supposed to be watching them, but most of her attention is taken by some little baby that toddles about and babbles nonsense.

"Who's he?" Finnick asks and Anne turns to look.

"Oh, that's Aubby," she says and he frowns.

"Aubby?"

Anne goes pink.

"Aubrey. It's just Mags told-" she pauses for a moment and swallows, "me once that when people like each other they sometimes make up nicknames, so I've started calling him Aubby. He's my brother. He's not very fun, though he's better than he used to be. He talks sometimes and he can move and play some easy stuff, he used to do nothing but sleep. And cry."

She talks very fast and Finnick nods, thinking this over. She peeks at him through her lashes and it's the very first time she's ever said "me". He thinks for a minute more and then, "Can I call you Annie?"

Anne's already big eyes go even bigger.

"Annie?"

"I like you," he says, "so Annie can be your nickname."

She goes pinker than pink, like that perfect rosy colour at sunset, and nods, biting her lip. She shuffles her cards together until she drops them suddenly, clapping her hands.

"Ooo, you can be Finny!" she exclaims and if she's giving him a nickname, that means she must like him too. He nods, a fuzzy feeling in his chest, and then, because he's seen Uncle Boggs do this every time he makes some sort of deal, he takes Annie's hand and shakes it.

"Annie," he affirms and she nods.

"Finny," she agrees.

They smile at each other, hands still joined and just like that, they're friends.

---

He hasn't been to Hadleigh since he was very small, so he, Annie and Lizbet go exploring.

(of course, they can't go anywhere too exciting, Mags always following behind them so they stay out of trouble)

They wind through hallways and peek in every room, store rooms and bed rooms and rooms Finny could never guess the purpose of. They find a dusty room full of old costumes for Twelfth Night celebrations and they try them all on, funny hats and glitzy masks and pretty wings that sparkle.

"You look like a fairy princess," he tells Annie as she spins around in glittery wings and a tiara made of beads. Her whole face lights up and she smiles brightly, putting the sun outside the window to shame. She drops into a curtsy just like a real lady (except maybe a bit more wobbly) and he takes off his oversized hat to bow, holding it up against his heart. She giggles and he grins, putting the floppy hat back on his head. It might be a farmer's hat, the brim wide and limp.

"Here," Annie offers, holding out a prop of a farmer's tool, "it'll go good with your great hat."

Finny takes it with a beam. They head off again, still dressed up, and Mags' eyebrows go straight up when she sees them.

"And what's all this?" she asks, gesturing at their outfits.

"I'm a fairy princess," Annie says happily, hugging Lizbet tight, and Mags smiles warmly.

"And a beautiful one too," she says and Annie's cheeks turn pink with pleasure. Finny thrusts out his tool.

"I'm a farmer," he says and Mags grins, bouncing Aubby on her hip.

"Oh, are you? Well, shouldn't you be ploughing a field then?"

Finny nods and turns to Annie.

"Come on Annie, let's go plough!"

They hurry off outside, Mags laughing softly after them. Of course, as soon as they get there they both realize they have absolutely no idea how to plough.

"We could roll down the hill," he offers instead and Annie nods. They race up to the top, Finny tripping over his stupid farmer's tool and falling face first into the grass. He is more embarrassed than hurt and Annie kneels down beside him, her face all painted over with concern.

"Are you okay?" she asks and he nods quickly, not quite able to meet her eyes.

"Fine," he mumbles and she touches his arm lightly. He turns and she holds out Lizbet.

"Here, Lizbet always makes me feel better."

Finny looks at her and she smiles, soft, sweet and in all his years going to court, he's never met anyone quite like Annie.

"Thanks," he says, taking Lizbet and he does feel better. Annie stands and holds out her hand. Finny takes it and she pulls him up, his smile blooming to match hers. They run up the rest of the hill together and then roll down it, their laughter rising up to the sky. They go again and again, grass in their hair and leaving stains on their clothes. They pick flowers because Lizbet loves bouquets and Annie teaches him to tie them together, making a necklace for her and crown for him.

"Lizbet thinks it's very pretty here. Your Uncle's very lucky," Annie says with a smile, her eyes sparkly.

Finny frowns.

"This isn't my uncle's castle, it's mine."

Annie stares at him.

"Yours?"

He nods and puffs out his chest.

"Yup, I'm the Earl of Richmond," he boasts and Annie's eyebrows draw together.

"I thought only daddies could be earls," she says and Finny shakes his head.

"Nope."

"Huh. Mummy says if I'm really good and act like a lady, I'll be a countess someday."

Finny ponders this and Annie pulls up grass with her fingers, her skin starting to turn green.

"Do you want to be my countess?" he asks and Annie looks up at him.

"Really?"

He nods.

"Yeah, I like you best of all the girls I know, so better you than them."

Annie presses her dirty hands to her cheeks.

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Glimmer Mowbray's mean, she stole my tart."

Annie gasps in outrage.

"How rude! Why would she do that?"

"Cause my cousin Cato told her to."

"Why?"

"Cause he's mean."

Annie shakes her head.

"I'd never steal your tarts, no matter who told me to," she promises and he nods.

"I know, that's why I'd pick you over her. Or Clove Clifford, she's also mean. And everyone else is too old or too young."

Annie thinks about this for a moment and then nods.

"Okay, I'll be your countess Earl Finny."

He smiles and then, because it seems like something an Earl should do for his Countess, he reaches over and brushes the dirt from her cheeks. Annie's eyes go wide but then she straightens his doublet for him, smoothing down the arms with her fingers. They smile at each other until Mags comes over to lead them back inside and Finny stands and offers Annie his hand, pulling her and Lizbet up to their feet.

He doesn't let go until much, much later.

---

June goes by much too quick but then it's July and Earl John decides to head home.

Finny doesn't mind his leaving, but he is upset that he's taking Annie with him. He kicks at the dirt while they pack up, Earl John and Uncle Boggs guffawing together by Annie's litter. She and her mother come outside and as much as he hates it, that means it's time for goodbye. Finny tries to be a grown-up and keep the pout from his face, but it isn't easy. Annie looks as downtrodden as he feels and Lady Mary curtseys to his Uncle.

"Thank you so much for having us, Lord Boggs," she says and he kisses her hand.

"It was a pleasure; you are all welcome any time," he replies and then helps her up into her litter. Mags and Aubby go in next and Finny turns to Annie, his whole body feeling heavy.

"Goodbye Earl Finny, we'll miss you," she says, holding Lizbet's arm and making it wave. He takes that tiny hand and kisses it like a real lord's supposed to and then takes Annie's bigger, warmer hand and kisses it too.

"I'll miss you too Countess Annie, Lizbet."

Uncle Boggs comes over and drops a hand on his shoulder.

"Countess Annie?" he questions and Finny nods.

"Yes, Annie's my countess," he explains and Uncle Boggs starts to laugh, Earl John joining in. Lady Mary doesn't laugh; her face goes sour instead and she gives him the same look his mother always gives him when he does something she doesn't like. Finny frowns and wishes he knew what was so funny, but he doubts they'd tell him. Grownups never do. Annie climbs up into the litter with her mother and she holds Lizbet up to the window. Finny watches her leave and he's almost eight years old, an earl and he definitely doesn't want to cry.

Definitely not.

---

At the end of November, her daddy has a very exciting announcement.

"We're going to London for the festivities this year," he announces as they break their fast and Annie drops her apple slices.

"To see the king?" she asks in awe and Daddy nods, patting her on the head.

"Indeed. We weren't able while your mother was with child nor when Aubrey was so young, but I think it's time."

Annie nods and licks apple juices from her fingers, her mummy watching her with a frown.

"Stop that Anne," she says sternly and Annie does, her cheeks turning red. Mummy dips her head at her husband.

"An excellent idea, my lord. When do we depart?"

Annie rubs her fingers on the tablecloth while no one's watching and her daddy thinks.

"A week or two I think. I trust you to have everything ready," he all but commands and his wife dips her head again.

"Of course, my lord."

Annie watches them and thinks she and Finny have much more fun being Earl and Countess than her parents do.

I wonder if he'll be at court.

---

They leave early in December and Annie bundles Lizbet up against the biting cold, wrapping her in thick scarves and a little shawl Mags made her for last New Year's. There's a thin white sheet of snow over everything, a chilly wind nipping at her nose and Annie bundles up too, Mags dressing her in a thick, wooly cloak and a pair of dark gloves. There's a hood to pull up over her head and then she climbs up into the litter, Mags making sure to tuck a cozy blanket around her. Her mummy sits across from her and Mags beside her with Aubby in her lap, fire warmed bricks placed beneath their feet to try and fight the cold.

Annie is almost too excited to manage, her heart pounding with thrills. She's never been as far as London, nor has she ever been anywhere as wonderful as a royal palace. This is the greatest adventure she's ever had but Aubby seems determined to ruin it, his pudgy face screwed up into a pout. He starts to cry only moments after they leave, his fists flying as he shouts. Mummy pinches her nose and "no, no, no!" Aubby wails. Mags coos in his ear, strokes his back and Annie frowns, his voice very shrill. Her happiness starts to evaporate, ground down by his shrieking and why, why, why are brothers so annoying? It takes forever to get him to quiet and it never lasts, a new fit of temper coming over him every time they make a stop. Nobody shouts at him though and Annie wants to throw her own fit, because that's not fair. If she had a tantrum, she'd certainly get a scolding.

They're all very surly by the time they arrive at Westminster (except her daddy, who is lucky enough be riding on a horse), its towers tall and dark against the sky and Annie is too busy closing her eyes and covering her ears to take in London, that sprawling city filled with soldiers and criminals in chains.

(would it have made things better or worse if she had?)

With Aubby momentarily hushed, Annie opens her eyes and is immediately entranced. Her daddy has many great castles, but none as magnificent as Westminster and Annie hangs out the window in awe, Lizbet squeezed against her chest.

"Stop that Anne, you must be on your best behavior," her mummy reprimands and Annie wilts before settling back in her seat. She pouts and Mummy gives her a sharp look.

"None of that Anne. You must be a lady and ladies do not pout."

Annie wants to sniffle but doesn't, Mummy's eyes narrowed as they watch her. She swallows her unhappiness and buries her nose in Lizbet's soft hair, Aubby starting to fuss yet again. Her mummy sighs in frustration and Mags starts to make shushing sounds in the hope of keeping him calm (which seems unlikely, judging by their entire miserable journey). This is no fun at all, I want to go home.

Luckily for all of them, they've reached their destination and grooms help them climb down into the courtyard. Mags sets Aubby down and he totters about with a big smile, his little hand held tight in hers. They go up to their rooms to unpack and Annie looks around in wonder, her petulance forgotten, everything here so much more lavish than she's used to. The king must be very rich indeed. She peels off her gloves and cloak when they reach their rooms and can't wait to go searching for Finny. The king's his uncle, he must be here. She's just about to head out to find him when her mummy's sharp voice stops her.

"What are you doing Anne?"

Annie turns to her and frowns in confusion. Mummy sighs.

"You can't take that doll with you," she says and Annie's arms tighten around Lizbet.

"But-" she starts and never finishes.

"Anne, you mustn't argue. This is the King's court; we must make a good impression. You need to behave like a lady, not a child. You can either leave that toy here, or you can stay here yourself until you grow up."

Her words broker no argument and Annie wants to stomp her feet, wants to cry and shout. Mags frowns.

"My lady," she begins but Lady Mary cuts her off.

"You coddle her Mags, she must learn to behave appropriately."

Annie squeezes Lizbet and fights back her tears. She is six years old and as much as she likes to pretend she's all grown up sometimes, she's not. Lizbet has been her bestest, only friend for as long as she can remember and Annie doesn't feel safe without her. Mummy makes an aggravated noise.

"Fine then, stay here," she says and turns to sweep from the room. Annie bites her lip and steps over to the bed. Her hands shake but she sets Lizbet down, tucking her under the covers and smoothing down her hair. It's okay, I don't need Lizbet. I have Finny now, he's my friend. She repeats this to herself as she follows Mummy, but it still feels like she's left an arm or a leg behind, her whole body feeling off and exposed. Mags squeezes her shoulder.

"Just think of all the exciting things you'll be able to tell her about later," she whispers and Annie nods, adding that to her mantra. Lizbet will be so happy to hear all about Finny, she missed him very much. They make their way down the stairs and Annie wonders where her daddy's gotten to, because he's nowhere to be seen.

(this isn't all that surprising though, he's always somewhere else)

"The Prince of Wales is about your age Anne, I hope the two of you will get along," Mummy says and Annie wrinkles her nose.

"He's mean," she says and Mummy stops suddenly. She whirls around, her cheeks red and Annie recoils from her fury.

"How dare you," she hisses, "how dare you say such things. Where would you even hear such an awful thing?"

"Finny told me," she mumbles, feeling small and Mummy's nostrils flare.

"I don't care what that horrid little boy tells you, I never want to hear you say anything like that ever again. Is that clear?"

Her voice is harsh in a way Annie has never heard and she nods, tears starting to sting in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispers and her mummy's eyes narrow.

"You should be. He is your future king Anne, you must show him respect."

Mummy turns back and starts to walk, Annie trailing miserably behind her. Mags strokes her hair tenderly and Annie barely restrains a whimper. She wipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands and though she's sad, there's also a kernel of anger in her belly.

Finny isn't horrid, he isn't

how dare you mummy, how dare you

---

Mummy wanders off to gossip with ladies in great tall hats and Annie is left to her own devices. She drags Mags all over the palace, peering in every room for Finny. He must be here somewhere...

"Countess Annie!" a jubilant voice calls and she turns, clapping her hands in joy when she sees Finny rushing towards her. He nearly trips on his feet and she laughs, forgetting all the day's unhappiness in an instant.

"Earl Finny!" she greets and then drops into her best curtsy. His face is red when he reaches her but he bends into a bow right away. He goes to take her hand but then frowns.

"Where's Lizbet?" he asks and Annie feels her heart ache.

"Mummy says ladies do not have poppets," she says and tears get caught in her throat. Finny folds his arms across his chest and scowls.

"That's stupid," he says firmly and Annie feels her heart bounce.

"Well hello Lord Finnick," Mags greets as she comes around the corner with Aubby. Finny grins.

"Hullo!" he says and then nods at her brother. "Aubby."

Aubby ignores him, far more interested in tugging on some fancy curtains. Finny turns back to Annie, his whole face lit up with excitement.

"You've never been here before, right?" he asks and she shakes her head. He beams.

"I've been here loads of times," he brags and Annie's eyes go wide.

"Wow," she breathes, suitably impressed. He grabs her hand.

"I'll show you all the best spots," he promises and then they're off. Mags smiles fondly and follows after them, Aubby doddling beside her. Finny takes Annie to see the great hall with all its big, long tables and then outside to the gardens covered over in shimmery white snow.

"Oh," she says softly, entirely enchanted, and Finny squeezes her hand.

"You should see it when it's warmer," he says and then they're off to Finny's room and its magnificent views. Annie looks out the window and gasps, all of London sprawled out beneath her.

"I can see Essex from here," Finny says and Annie looks up at him in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods.

"Uh-huh, just over there."

He points and Annie follows his finger, squinting her eyes.

"I can't see it," she sighs and Finny shrugs.

"Well, I'm eight," he says and Annie nods because that makes perfect sense. He wanders over to the bed and flops down on it, his arms stretched above his head.

"I'll take you to the stables after; you won't believe how many horses there are!"

Annie nods and sits beside him.

"Lizbet's very happy we came," she says and he turns over to look at her. He smiles and really, she thinks, he has the nicest smile in the world.

"Me too," he says and she feels warm down to her toes. He bounces up then and grabs her hand, his fingers wrapping snugly around hers.

"Now come on! There are horses to see!"

He leaps off the bed and takes her with him, and yes, Annie thinks as they laugh through the halls, I'm very happy I came.

---

"Are there any other kids here?" she asks much later when they're heading to dinner and Finny wrinkles his nose.

"Yes," he says sourly and Annie frowns.

"What is it?"

"Nothing," he mutters and she raises an eyebrow at him. He scowls.

"There's my cousin, Cato. He's only five but he's always bossing me around and acting like a...like a jerk. I'm older but he's always I'm a prince Finnick, you have to do what I say Finnick, I'm going to be king Finnick, I could cut your head off Finnick."

Annie covers her mouth in horror.

"Could he really?" she whispers and Finny shrugs.

"Not until he's actually king, but I don't want him to complain to his father. I hate it when he's cross; he always does nasty stuff when he is."

Finny's voice takes on an odd, unhappy tone and Annie feels her heart shake.

"Oh no," she says softly and Finny shrugs again.

"Most of the others always do what Cato says, which means never doing anything nice. I hate having to play with them; they always make fun of people and trip servants in the hall. They're..." and he lowers his voice, "gits, all of them."

"I don't think I'll like them," she says and his eyes widen.

"They're not all bad," he hurries to assure her, "Henry Holland's okay and so's the Earl of Salisbury's son, not that he comes around often. Oh, and the Duke of Suffolk's son John, though he's only five...and um, I've never actually talked to the Duke of York's daughter, but I'm sure she's nice."

He trails off and looks at her anxiously; as if afraid he's scared her off. She smiles and takes his hand.

"I'm sure, but even if they're not, I've got you. That's enough."

He blinks at her and then smiles sweetly, his fingers tightening on hers.

"Yeah?"

Annie nods without even a little bit of hesitation.

"Definitely."

Finny beams.

"You're enough too," he says and she grins. They head into the great hall together and there are more people milling about inside than Annie has ever seen. She feels suddenly shy and draws closer to Finny's side, wishing desperately she had Lizbet with her. Finny leads her over to the farthest table where all the children are gathered and she hugs his arm in concern. Finny is enough, more than enough, but that doesn't mean she's not afraid to face Cato and his group of meanies.

"Finnick!" a voice calls and she turns to see a boy hurrying towards them. He's maybe seven with a freckly tanned face, light brown hair, hazel eyes and dirt stains all over his boots. Finny grins.

"Hullo Henry," he says and this must be Henry Holland.

"Were you outside?" she blurts and then blushes. Henry glances at her and Finny laughs.

"Henry practically lives outside," he says and Henry sighs.

"I wish," he says with glittery eyes before giving her a thoughtful look.

"Can you climb trees?" he asks and Annie has to shake her head, feeling somewhat stupid. Henry looks appalled.

"You can teach us," Finny offers and Annie feels a little less dumb. Henry nods.

"I'll have to," he says very seriously and Annie smiles. Finny squeezes her hand and they reach their table. They sit and there's a knot of children about their age clustered at the far end. Finny narrows his eyes at them before leaning over to whisper in her ear.

"That's Clove Clifford," he says, indicating a short girl with very dark hair, "and that's Glimmer Mowbray", a tall girl with silvery blonde hair and pale skin, "and that's Marvel Abernathy," he finishes, pointing out a boy with muddy brown hair, vibrant green eyes (though not as pretty as Finny's) and very light brown skin. Annie looks them over and cannot help but hope they'll be nicer than Finny described.

"I hope supper comes soon," Henry sighs and then "Finnick! Finnick! Finnick!" an excited voice practically squeals. Finny wilts and Annie looks behind them to see a boy of perhaps five streaking towards them, his cheeks rosy, his eyes wide and his hair the brightest orange she's ever seen.

"Hello Darius," Finny says and Darius bounces up and down, looking at Finny with awed adoration.

"This is my friend Annie," he introduces and Darius looks over at her like she's fallen straight out of heaven.

"Hello," she manages, waving slightly, and Darius beams.

"Hi," he breathes and his whole face lights up. "Finnick's my cousin! Step-cousin actually," he amends, though his enthusiasm doesn't dim. Annie nods.

"Why don't you sit over here, Henry'll move, won't he?" Finny asks and Henry shrugs. He scoots over to the next seat and Darius practically vibrates as he climbs in next to Finny. He just sits there and smiles widely, three of his teeth missing. She wonders if Aubby will be so impressed with her when he grows up.

"And who are you?"

She'd been so caught up in Darius she hadn't noticed the other children coming over and Annie jumps in her seat. The question is from that blonde girl, Glimmer, who looks down her thin nose at Annie. She ducks her head immediately, her hair falling over her face.

"Anne," she mumbles.

"What was that?"

"Anne of Oxford," she says a bit louder, because she has nothing to be embarrassed about. Her daddy's an earl and that's impressive, her parents told her so. Glimmer lifts her chin to think about that and the other girl, Clove, thrusts herself forward.

"Never heard of you; I bet your father's only a knight," she says as if that'd be the worst thing in the world and Annie feels offended on Uncle George's behalf.

"He's an earl actually," Finny says angrily, "which is better than your dad the baron."

Clove turns very red and Annie squeezes Finny's fingers beneath the table. His cheeks are stained crimson, his eyes are narrowed at Clove and he's the best, she decides, the very best.

"My daddy's a duke," Glimmer declares, looking at Annie like she's something grubby on the bottom of her shoe, and Finny opens his mouth to say something but Henry cuts him off.

"So's mine," he says, "which means I get to be a duke someday too. But you don't right? You only become a duchess if a duke marries you."

Glimmer scowls at him.

"So?" she asks and Henry looks her dead in the eye.

"I wouldn't marry you," he says firmly, "and I doubt you'd want Darius, unless you like babies that is."

Clove gasps and Glimmer's eyes go very wide, her lips clamped together so tight they almost disappear. Big, huge tears start to gather in her eyes and then she drops suddenly to the ground, a high pitched wail rising from her mouth. She rolls around, arms waving and Clove backs away like she's diseased. Marvel Abernathy looks over at her from his spot near the head of the table and rolls his eyes. Annie stares at her in alarm.

"Is she okay?" she asks Finny and he rolls his eyes too.

"She does this all the time," he says and Annie frowns. Glimmer's just like Aubby except she's six, not two.

"Or maybe you do like babies, since you act like one," Henry says and Annie's eyes go very wide. Just then a great horn sounds and everyone immediately scrambles to stand up, Annie following suit in bewilderment. Three figures come striding into the hall and she gasps. At the head is a man that must be the king, a glittering crown on his head. Wisps of white hair sneak out from underneath it and his clothes look very heavy, all velvet and jewels and a fur lined cape. His face is parchment coloured, papery and wrinkly like a prune but his lips are very red, almost like he's bleeding.

Annie's not sure why, but she suddenly feels very cold.

A lady who must be the queen follows him, her very dark hair woven through with shiny gold thread. Her skin is a warm sort of brown and she smiles, her teeth unusually sharp. Her dress is also heavy looking with costly gems and then comes a boy that must be Finny's cousin. He's blonde and smiling smugly, his dark eyes bright. They head to the dais at the front of the hall to sit at the head table and this is her first glimpse at England's royal family.

Sadly, it won't be her last.

---

"Finnick!" a sharp voice calls as he walks Annie back to her room and he stiffens all over. Annie looks at him in concern and turns to see a lady coming towards them, everything about her severe. She is dressed in sombre colours, her grey eyes are narrowed and she's plucked her forehead and eyebrows, all her hair pulled tightly back into a caul. Finny inhales sharply.

"Hello mother," he says, eyes duller than Annie's ever seen. She gasps a little and looks back at the lady in surprise. She doesn't look like Finny at all. She looks meaner. Finny's mother sweeps her eyes over Annie in disinterest before focusing on her son.

"Why aren't you making an effort to befriend your cousin? How many times must I tell you Finnick, you will never achieve your great destiny if you don't become close to your royal relatives."

Finny rolls his eyes like he's heard this all before and Annie frowns. Great destiny?

"I don't like him," Finny says and his mother purses her lips like she's just eaten something rotten.

"God has told me you will achieve greatness Finnick, but you must seize it," she insists and Finny scowls.

"I don't want to. Cato's mean and I've got Annie now, she's better."

Annie feels something happy flutter in her tummy until his mother turns to look at her, her lips curling back over her teeth.

"Annie?" she echoes and Annie feels small and useless under her withering look. Finny squeezes her hand.

"Yes, she's my countess."

His mother laughs shortly, but it isn't a nice sound at all.

"You are the king's nephew, your countess will be someone of far more importance than this Annie," she says and her voice drips with something nasty and cruel. Annie almost wants to cry and wishes she had Lizbet to hug.

"Oh there you are Anne, I was worried," comes Mags familiar voice and they all turn to see her walking towards them. Her smile soothes Annie's hurt but her eyes widen when she takes note of Finny's mother and she drops into a curtsy.

"Lady Alma," she says and the lady in question barely even seems to notice her. She turns back to Finny with a frown.

"I see I will have to have a talk with your uncle, Boggs is not raising you as I would like," she says and Annie doesn't say it, but she thinks that might be a good thing. Finny merely glares at her. Lady Alma gives them both one last harsh look before she leaves and Finny seems to wilt as soon as she's gone.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles and Annie shakes her head.

"It's not your fault. And what does she mean by destiny?"

Finny bites his lip.

"God talks to her," he says in a tone that suggests he doesn't believe it at all, "and He tells her that I'm going to be someone amazing someday. Except I always ruin all her plans."

He sounds sad and Annie frowns. She squeezes his hand.

"I think you're amazing right now," she says and his eyes go very wide. For a moment Annie thinks he might cry but then he smiles.

"You're amazing too," he says and she feels all of Lady Alma's rudeness melt away. Mags reaches out to stroke both their heads.

"Alright you two, it's best you get to bed. It's been a long night."

She leads them off and Annie decides right then that she doesn't like Lady Alma at all. Anyone who makes Finny sad is bad and never in her life has she ever been surer of anything than she is of that.

---

All the festivities over the next week are incredible, but nothing is better than presents on New Year's.

Annie gets a fancy comb and brocade for a new dress from her parents, while everyone at court has to give the king something amazing and expensive. He gets golden cups, sparkly jewels, yards of velvet and fur lined cloaks, even a new horse from the Duke of Exeter.

"Henry's dad," Finny whispers to her and she nods. The king has a great, big mound of gifts when it's all over and something awful occurs to Annie.

"I didn't get you anything," she tells Finny mournfully. "I'm a terrible Countess."

"I didn't get you anything either," he admits and taps his chin. His eyes widen.

"I know, here," he says pulling off one of his rings and handing it to her. It's silver with a pretty pattern of swirls and Annie cradles it in her palm.

"I love it," she says and pulls off one of her own. It's gold with one little pearl and Finny smiles.

"Thank you Countess Annie," he says and puts it on his pinky. Annie pushes his onto her thumb.

That night she curls around Lizbet in bed and stares at that ring, her whole body warm and happy.

This is the bestest bestest new year's ever

ever ever

---

It's sad saying goodbye, but Finny promises they'll see each other again soon. Annie holds onto that as they roll away from Westminster and she cannot wait.

soon

---

1458

It turns out to be much sooner than either of them would have guessed.

In February, on Saint Valentine's Day, Annie wakes to the sound of screaming. It is a wailing, wretched, heartbroken sound and she is frozen in her bed, far too terrified to go see what's going on. She curls around Lizbet and listens to that shrieking, male and female, her heart hammering in her throat.

What could it be?

It sounds like it's just beyond her door and then something shatters, like a vase against the wall. Annie flinches and her fear doubles, a sick feeling bubbling in her stomach. More sounds of destruction follow, over top of weeping and Annie cannot even guess what might be going on. Only six and terrified, she thinks the world is ending.

In a way, it is.

Aubrey Cresta, two years old, is dead.

He'd had a cold, but no one could have predicted this, could've imagined it would become so much more deadly overnight. His little body is clammy when they find it and it is Annie's mother that wails so loudly, tearing at her hair and clothes. It is her father who rampages, sobbing as he breaks everything in sight. Mags merely cradles her poor lifeless boy, weeping into his chest and there is no heartbeat there, nothing at all.

(Annie sits in their nursery later and cries her own tears, because it is quiet, so quiet, no Aubby to disturb her peace. His muddy shoes sit by the door, a wooden horse lies sideways on a shelf but there's no Aubby.

There never will be again)

Castle Camps becomes a tomb, filled to the brim with grief and darkness and tragedy, spun over them like an intricate web. Little, tiny Aubby is prepared for burial and there is not a single smile to be seen, no laughter heard at all. Everything is misery and something important dies with Aubby, something they'll never get back. Her parents lock themselves away, away from her and away from each other, their sorrow too heavy to carry. Annie sits with Mags in the hush death has brought to their home and feels oddly empty. Mags strokes her hair, kisses her head and tells her Aubby is gone to be with God. She is still too young to fully grasp what that means, but she does know it means he's gone and never coming back.

Her whole family comes to the funeral, her uncles, aunts and cousins and her parents look at those children with wounded, hostile eyes. Neither one of them ever looks at Annie. Other people she doesn't know come too, each one with sympathetic words that never seem to soften her parents' broken edges. Boggs and Finny arrive on the day of and Finny holds her hand throughout the ceremony, the Latin floating up and over Annie's head.

Soon

I had wanted soon

I shouldn't have

Mags sobs into her hands, her father falls to his knees and her mother sits there in silence, tears streaming down her face. Annie looks at them and feels as if she is drowning in their mourning, Aubby's death like a puncture wound into the bubble of their life.

Oh Aubby, why did you go?

(she's so caught up in her parents' agony, she doesn't even realize she's started crying until Finny wipes the tears from her cheeks)

---

They leave Castle Camps after that and Annie wonders if they'll ever be back. Aubby's ghost lingers there and she doesn't think her parents could ever survive the haunting. Finny hugs her goodbye and his arms are warm, his embrace as comforting and safe as Mags'. She breathes him in slowly, his skin smelling just like summer, and she wants to stay here, where it feels like nothing bad could ever touch her.

"I'll come visit as soon as I can," he promises and she nods, the harshness of her pain softening just a bit. She rests her cheek on his shoulder, tears tickling her eyes.

"He was so small, what will he do all alone?" she murmurs, fear thick in her veins, and Finny tightens his hold on her.

"Don't worry," he whispers, "my Dad'll look after him."

Annie closes her eyes and breathes a little easier.

"Thank you, Earl Finny," she says and he squeezes her.

"Anything for you Countess Annie."

---

Soon after that, their lives fall into a pattern.

They spend every summer together, bathing in the river no matter the consequences, rolling down hills, catching frogs and fighting invisible dragons. They laugh together, sneak cakes from the kitchen and it's perfect.

(or as perfect as anything can be in Coriolanus' England)

They meet up again in time for Christmas and there's hide and seek in the king's grand castles, magnificent pageants to enjoy and lovely new year's gifts to exchange, a brooch she gives him when she's eight, fabric for a new dress for Lizbet, a deck of cards, a beautiful book of hours from him when she's ten.

(you're ten now, that's a milestone, right?)

He regales her with the thrilling tale of his grandparents' love, the Welsh servant and the widowed queen who eloped in secret. He tells her how they'd defied the law forbidding a queen to remarry without the king's permission, how his grandmother had fought parliament itself to have his grandpa Owen granted the rights of an Englishman and how his grandfather had been arrested but managed to escape Newgate Prison and flee. It's better than any made up story or romance, full of adventure and love and Annie sighs, eyes bright.

How romantic, I wonder if anyone will ever love me that much

I will, he promises her at all of ten years old, I'll love you even more than that.

They grow up side by side but there are shadows of course, lurking just beyond the summer sun's bright rays.

There is a hole in Annie's home, Aubby's death followed by another miscarried boy tearing her family apart, and the chill in their halls never seems to warm. Her father spends so long away, away at court, at his other castles, just away, that Annie wonders if he even recognizes her when he's finally home. Her mother is sharp and jagged, brittle and no matter what she does, Annie can never make it better.

(put that doll away!)

(grow up Anne, stop being such a child)

Annie lies in bed and thinks of little Aubby, his chubby cheeks and mud stained shoes, and oh Aubby Aubby, why did you leave us?

(and under all that, she thinks, did my parents love him more than me?)

There is a weight on Finnick's small shoulders, one growing heavier as he grows older, as every day passes. There is Cato hounding his steps with sharp words, taunts and Finnick bites his tongue, letting every wound fester until he thinks he might pop.

(you must make him love you Finnick, how do you think you'll ever achieve your destiny without royal favour?)

There is his uncle, the King, glorious and vicious and vindictive. Executions in every city he visits, cruelties lavished on all who displease him and his darkness looms over everything Finnick does, breeding fear in his heart and suffocating him under the pressure to live up to royal expectations.

(you are my nephew Finnick, you are a part of this family. Every mistake of yours is a mistake of ours, your failures reflect on us. You wouldn't want to disgrace us Finnick, you may trust us on that)

At eleven, Finny loses his grandfather, Owen Odair, the Welsh servant who won the heart of a Queen. He had been kind, friendly and Finny had adored him. He'd taught him to speak Welsh (always be proud of who you are Finnick, no matter what anyone else says), told him the best stories of fighting in France and all about the royal grandmother Finny'd never met (she was beautiful, but more than that, she was clever. Catherine always beat me at everything, from cards to horse racing. I think she passed those skills onto you).

He'd never had anything but love for his grandfather and Annie mourns with him when he dies, holding him as he cries for days afterward. King Coriolanus doesn't bother to attend the funeral and he denies Owen the chance to be buried beside his love with a mocking laugh. A Welsh servant has no place amongst the kings he says of his step-father and so Owen is laid to rest in Boggs' chapel, far from the woman he'd risked everything to be with. It's tragic Annie always says, but I'm sure they're together now anyway.

And there are whispers too, about unhappiness and discontent in the countryside, in the towns, a rumble of terrible things to come. Riots flare up here and there, followed by bloody, violent punishments, and the whole country is just waiting for a chance to erupt. But there is also Mags and Uncle Boggs to love them, Henry to teach them to climb trees, little Darius to coo in awe at every little thing they do, and perhaps best of all, there's each other.

It isn't perfect, not really, but they are young and the world around them still seems wide open with possibility.

(if only it could stay that way)

---

1468
March

Scotland.

After spending a lifetime listening to his uncle call the Scots savages, barbarians, little better than dogs, it is Scotland that provides their refuge. The teenaged King James III welcomes them with open arms and provides them with much needed shelter and sustenance. He is far more gracious than Finnick himself would be if faced with his greatest enemy begging for help and looking at the two kings before him, it is pretty clear who the savage is.

(not that he'd ever say such a thing aloud of course)

Finnick knows he should be grateful he is alive after the massacre at Towton and he is, really. But Annie is still in England, alone and at the mercy of the Yorkists and it is only Uncle Boggs keeping watch over him like a warden that stops him from fleeing back to England. He can barely breathe with fear for her and how could I leave you?

"She is safer in England. The Yorkists won't harm her, she hasn't done anything wrong. Their grievance is with her father, not her. If you'd brought her with you, she would be in danger. Exile is a perilous life; we will be hunted and slaughtered if we are ever caught. You did the right thing," Uncle Boggs keeps telling him and he repeats it to himself but never believes it. Annie is alone in hostile territory and if anything happens to her...

Be safe Annie, please be safe

---

1462

Everything changes the year she turns eleven.

Their visits usually happen in June or latest July, but this time Finny only shows up mid-way through August, three days after her eleventh birthday. He'd written of course, explained that the king wanted him in London, but Annie would be lying if she said there wasn't a curl of uneasiness in her stomach. Mags merely laughs fondly and strokes her hair.

"He'll be here soon," she murmurs and Annie nods.

Maybe I'm just being silly.

(if only)

She is waiting outside when he finally arrives at Hedingham, his bronze hair shining in the sun. He beams when he sees her and leans forward in his saddle to wave. Annie smiles and feels her heart bouncing happily in her chest. He leaps neatly off his horse, all his limbs longer than they used to be, and Annie flings her arms around him, his own coming around her in a hug. He's taller than he was at Christmas, not a lot, but definitely taller. He pulls back and she looks at him, all the baby fat that had clung to his cheeks seeming to have melted away.

"I missed you," he says and happy bubbles fill her up.

"I missed you too," she tells him, unable to keep down her smile, and he squeezes her.

"I'm sorry I missed your birthday," he apologizes, "but I brought you a present!"

Annie smiles, fondness coursing through her like a river, and even though she's older, she still can't think of a single word to truly describe the perfect green of his eyes.

"You didn't have to," she says, "you're present enough."

She says it like she's teasing but she isn't and he smiles, her favourite, slow, corner-of-the-mouth smile that makes her every bone warm beneath her skin. Her mother clears her throat loudly.

"Perhaps we should move this inside," she says with a particularly sharp look at Finny and Annie. They do and Annie loops her arm through Finny's, practically skipping towards the doors.

"Come on," he whispers just to her, "I want to give you your present."

Her heart hums with excitement and she nods, tugging him off towards the stairs.

"Anne!" her mother calls in annoyance but she doesn't stop.

"I'm just going to help him unpack," she shouts back over her shoulder and the two of them pick up their pace to make sure no one stops them. They hurry into his room and thankfully his trunk is already there, Finny immediately heading straight to it. He flings open the lid and digs through it, tossing things out of the way. A stray pair of hose hits her square in the face and she laughs, winding the legs around her wrists.

"Is this my gift then?" she teases and he turns in confusion. He rolls his eyes when she holds up the hose for him to see and she laughs again.

"Very funny," he says and turns back to his digging.

"Did you forget it?" she asks and he briefly looks at her to stick out his tongue.

"No, I just made sure to put it right in the middle, so it'd be cushioned on all sides. I didn't want anything to happen to it."

A thrill runs up her spine and she squeezes the hose, the anticipation driving her wild. What could it be?

"Hah!" he crows in triumph and then turns, a lovely little box in his hands. He bounces over to her and she might be vibrating. She takes it and he sits beside her, watching her eagerly as she lifts the lid.

"Finny," she gasps, her eyes stretching wide. Sitting in that box is the most beautiful necklace she's ever seen, so beautiful she's almost afraid to touch it. It's three strings of pearls interspersed with emeralds and from the center hangs a golden filigree heart with the loveliest emerald of all right in the middle.

"Do you like it?" he asks and she can barely speak.

"It's...oh Finny, it's beautiful, too beautiful," she murmurs in awe and he bumps her shoulder with his.

"Just like you then," he says and her heart beats fast.

"I love it," she whispers and he smiles

"Do you want to try it on?" he asks and she nods, pulling back her hair. He clasps it behind her neck, fingers soft when they skim her skin and she gasps at herself in the mirror.

"Oh Finny," she says and then flings herself on him. He catches her and laughs, squeezing her around the middle.

"Happy birthday, my Countess."

And it is happy, though not because of the necklace. It's because of him. She'd meant what she said before.

No gift, no matter how grand, could ever be as perfect as Finny himself.

---

"What did the King want?" she asks later when they're lying side by side in the grass, their fingers linked. Finny sighs.

"To tell me what a disappointment I am," he says and Annie bristles in outrage.

"What?" she demands and Finny squeezes her fingers.

"As the King's nephew, it is my duty to befriend the next generation and ensure their loyalty to their sovereign lord. I am not nearly charming or amiable enough."

"I think you're very charming and amiable," she says, still smarting at the King's rudeness. Finny grins.

"You're the only one who thinks so, apparently. According to the King I am nothing but a social failure. From now on, I must be the model courtier, hobnobbing with all the noble children. Even if I hate them, I have to lie and smile and act as if we're all the best of friends."

His voice is bitter and Annie frowns.

"Why?"

"I'm supposed to win their affection, all to bind these up and coming nobles more closely to our royal house. And if they prove resistant to being bound, I am to gain their confidence so I might learn all their secrets. He wants me to kiss ass and then report everything back to him. He wants me to be a liar and a spy."

Annie doesn't know what to say to that so she scoots a little closer, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly and he shrugs, his smile false and his laugh fake.

"Ah well, that's the price you pay when you're related to royalty. Actually, I was hoping you might do me a favour."

"What?" she asks and he pauses a moment as if embarrassed.

"Well, um...couldyoumaybeteachmetodance?"

It comes out in a breathless rush and Annie blinks, not having caught a single word.

"Huh?"

His face turns pink and he breathes in deeply.

"I don't know how to dance," he admits and her eyes go very wide.

"Really?"

"There just always seemed to be something better to do, but now my uncle's insisting I dance with every girl at court and I'm going to make an absolute fool of myself. I know you've had a dance tutor, so help me? Please?"

Annie props herself up on her elbow and looks at him, all earnest and anxious. She nods.

"Alright," she says, "I'll teach you."

"Really?"

She leans over him, her hair falling around them like a curtain.

"Of course," she says, mock-offended that he would doubt her, and he grins. He pulls her down on top of him in a hug and Annie nestles into his chest with a smile. She loves hugging Finny; she always feels like she's exactly where she belongs.

"I don't know what I'd do without you Annie," he says and she can't help a cheeky grin.

"Make a fool of yourself at court," she teases and he laughs.

"I would. Thank you. And as a show of my appreciation, I'm going to ask you to dance first. Not just next time we're at court, but always. Until the day I die, you'll always be my first dance."

She lifts her head up a little to look at him in surprise.

"Really?"

He nods.

"I have to dance with everyone apparently, but you're the only one I really want to dance with."

Annie feels her heart smile.

"And I'll always say yes," she promises and he grins, squeezing her. She lays her head back down on his chest and listens to his heart beat.

If everyday could be just like this one, well, everyday would be perfect wouldn't it?

---

She spends the next two weeks teaching him every dance step she knows and he is naturally graceful, so unlike the clumsy Finny he used to be. It's fun, the two of them spinning around (though they never have any music, Finny much much too embarrassed to ever allow anyone else to know what they're up to) and Annie doesn't want it to ever end.

But then, she never wants her time with Finny to end.

It does though, it always does, but this time it comes far sooner than she could have expected. Only two weeks after he'd arrived, the King calls Finny to join him at his Leeds Castle. Annie is furious.

"You only just got here," she says angrily as Finny packs and he sighs.

"I know."

"He just saw you."

"I know."

"This isn't fair," she snaps and Finny sighs again. Most of the time, nearly all the time, she barely notices that Finny is two years older than her. But sometimes, like now, he seems older and she feels childish in comparison.

"I don't have much of a choice," he says and Annie does everything within her power to stop from pouting. A great many petulant, whining thoughts rise up inside her but she forces them down. If Finny can be grown up about this, then so can she.

"I know, but I'd hoped you'd at least stay until your birthday."

"Me too, but what the King commands, I obey."

He says the last bit bitterly and Annie feels something hard settle in her stomach. Oh Finny. She throws her arms around him and squeezes tight.

"I'll miss you," she murmurs and he nods, holding her closer than he ever has before.

"I'll miss you too," he whispers and Annie doesn't know it of course, but this is just the start of the King taking Finny away from her.

(she'll learn soon enough)

---

Finny does everything his uncle wants of him.

He smiles, charms and laughs with every young noble at court, even as he hates himself for it. He is a liar, but worse, he allows them to say and do awful things, all to convince them he's their friend. He laughs when they trip servants in the hall, ignores the people they hate and agrees easily with every insult they throw at those not in their little circle.

"Ugh, I can't believe George Neville asked me to dance, his father's only a knight. Like I'd ever stoop so low," Glimmer Mowbray says in disgust before fluttering her eyelashes at him and Finny grins.

"You deserve much better than that," he says and she beams.

It's the same as every day and Finny makes himself sick, but carries on anyway.

(not that he's allowed to do anything else)

His uncle's eyes follow him around every room and so Finny acts just the way his uncle wants, even though all he really wants to do is tell Glimmer and her ilk that they're awful, rude and deluded if they think their titles make them so much better than everyone else.

They're not better than anyone. But then, neither is he.

What have I become?

(you don't want to know)

---

Christmas arrives and thankfully, so does Annie.

She is a like a breath of fresh air and Finny yearns so badly to run off with her, to have everything go back to how it used to be. Just him and Annie and Henry and even little Darius. He can't of course, he must continue his charade but still, if he could have Annie beside him, it would be so much easier to bear.

But he doesn't have her.

Annie flutters at the periphery of all their gatherings, always watching him but never once trying to approach him. When he manages to get a moment with her, even away from all the others, she is shy and quiet, so unlike the smiling, affectionate Annie he is used to. He is almost too afraid to ask why; terrified she will tell him she is disgusted by him. It takes until the final ball of the festivities before he is able to pluck up the courage.

There is a magnificent feast and Annie spends it all with some blonde girl he doesn't know. He tries to convince himself he has nothing to worry about, that she is not avoiding him; she is merely making new friends. After all, he can see his birthday gift hanging about her neck, as lovely as he'd knew it'd look on her, that must mean she still likes him, right?

He sits at the head of the table, smiling and chatty, but that worry eats at him all throughout dinner. When they migrate to another room for dancing, Finny knows the time is now. He searches through the crowd until he sees her, her eyes sparkling as she looks at the dance floor, and he heads right over, determined and terrified. He bows when he reaches her and smiles as best he can.

"Lady Anne, may I have this dance?"

She doesn't meet his eyes, her cheeks flushing a deep, dark pink but she nods quickly and he takes her pale hands in his. He leads her out amongst the other dancing couples and still she won't look at him, a horrible sinking feeling in his stomach.

"So, who's your new friend?" he asks, trying to sound nothing but mildly curious. She smiles.

"Madge of Bedford."

Her voice is warm and happy as she says it and Finny cannot help but smile too. The name is familiar and it takes him a minute to figure out why.

"Oh, she's my cousin," he says and Annie finally does look up at him, her eyes wide.

"Really?"

"Well, first cousin once removed. Her mother, Margaret, is my actual first cousin. Which is weird, since she's old enough to be my mum."

"Oh. She's very nice, Madge is," Annie says and even though he's still a little sick with worry, he cannot help being happy for her.

"My mother thinks I should marry her," he mentions and Annie's eyes go very wide, before she drops her head, eyes turned straight down to the floor.

"Really?" she asks, her voice at a much higher pitch than normal.

"Uh-huh. She's the richest heiress in England by a huge amount, no one but the King has more land and money than her father. She's also set to inherit two dukedoms, not to mention her royal blood. I bet nearly everyone in England wants to marry her."

"Oh," Annie says quietly, "well, she is lovely."

"I'm sure she is, but I don't want to marry her."

Annie looks up at him in surprise.

"Why not?"

"Well, I'm happy being an Earl, I don't need a dukedom. And really, what would I do with two of them? I think I'm rich enough on my own and I already have royal blood, I don't need hers. I mean, I've never even spoken to her. And anyway, I already have a countess."

He says it with a smile and Annie just stares at him, her eyes very wide and her cheeks red. Finny feels like he may be sick.

"Have I done something wrong?" he asks quietly and he's so, so terrified she'll say yes. She tilts her head a bit.

"Wrong?"

He nods.

"You've been avoiding me."

Annie bites her lip and drops her head again, looking flustered.

"I haven't, I...well, you're making all these new friends and I've never been very popular with people like Glimmer, I didn't want to get in the way."

Her voice is very small when she says it and Finny shakes his head, both relieved and flabbergasted.

"Annie, you could never get in the way. Never. No matter what happens, I'll always want you with me. You don't have to sit with me or spend time with me if you don't want to obviously, but just...don't ever think I don't want you to. I do, of course I do. You're my countess, my best friend, my Annie." He pauses then and swallows, his nerves nearly eating him alive. "That is, if you still want to be."

He can't help sounding vulnerable, all his worries crowded in his mouth and slipping out, but Annie looks at him shyly, her eyes bright.

"Of course I do, I always will. But your mother, she...doesn't like me."

Finny rolls his eyes and can't help but smile, buoyed by her words.

"My mother doesn't like anyone. It doesn't matter anyway; she's not in charge of me. I still like you best of all the girls I know."

"I like you best of all the boys I know," Annie says, her smile starting to unfurl and Finny feels his heart bounce in his chest.

"That's what matters most. And anyway, think how jealous Madge or anyone else would be. You'll always be my favourite girl, not to mention I promised you'd always be my first dance; that might be awkward at my wedding."

Annie giggles a bit and he grins, spinning her around.

"See? It's better for everyone if I marry you," he says and she laughs, the sound lifting his spirits up to the roof.

"Okay. I'll be your countess Earl Finny, happily."

"Good."

They grin at each other and the dance comes to an end, Finny not quite ready to let her go.

"You're not very good, are you?" comes Cato's harsh voice and both Finny and Annie look over at him.

"My most sincere apologies, your Highness," Madge of Bedford says with a curtsy, possessing far more grace than Finny is sure he'd have if he were in her position. Cato stomps off and Annie puts a hand over her mouth in distress. People whisper and point while Madge tries to keep her head high, moving to the edge of the room with as much dignity as she can muster.

"Well, I think I've found my next partner," he says, hating Cato for heaping this humiliation on Madge's head. Annie looks up at him with a grateful smile.

"Idiot!" the King bellows and Annie jumps, her nails digging into Finny's arm. Finny himself feels his heart thump and he watches his uncle strike a serving boy across the face, sending him and his wine jug crashing to the floor.

"Useless cur!" his uncle roars and Annie hides her face in Finny's chest. He holds her, too horrified to look away and his uncle kicks that boy, over and over and over again.

"Did I say you were allowed to stop?" his uncle barks at the minstrels and they start playing again, their music slightly hysterical.

"Remove this filth from my hall!" the King shouts at two guards who yank the bleeding boy up. Finny fights the urge to be sick.

"Lord Brutus, see that the wretch is properly dealt with."

The Duke of Somerset, the king's cruellest noble, swaggers forward, his expression hungry.

"As you command, my king."

Finny watches as the terrified serving boy is hauled off for some horrific torture and cannot help remembering the gruesome executions that had kicked off the festivities this year.

England is dying

He thinks it only briefly, that thought much too dangerous to be allowed to linger. He is the king's nephew but it would only take one wrong word to send him to the torture chambers, to have him dragged through the streets in chains, even to find his head on a pike on the gates.

I wonder, will we ever be safe here?

Or are we to live our whole lives in fear?

---

1468
March-August

The Yorkists may have won England, they may rule it now, but King Coriolanus has no intention of letting that stand.

Almost as soon as they reach Scotland, the Lancastrians begin making plans to retake the kingdom, all with the support of James III of Scotland. He has promised to aid them in their struggle against the Yorkists, though this cooperation does have a price. Finnick is not made privy to all the clauses in James' proposed treaty, but he does find out that James would like to seal their alliance with the marriage of his sister Margaret to Cato, Prince of Wales. Margaret is thirteen and seems pleasant enough, but Cato is beyond unimpressed. Finnick isn't exactly surprised. He has never liked his cousin, in fact, he doubts very much that he ever will, but he does have to admit that when it comes to fidelity, Cato has always been true to Clove Clifford.

(though a part of him wonders if that's because Clove Clifford seems the type to punish betrayal with a great deal of pain, if not outright death)

(honestly, he's not even slightly surprised they get along so well)

Their liaison is an open secret, mostly because they don't seem to have any understanding of the word "discretion". Everyone on the entire bloody island has probably walked in on them in some intimate act; Finnick himself has witnessed their lovemaking so many times he's given up counting.

It isn't surprising that the Prince of Wales has a mistress, most would expect it of him, the surprise is just how blatant he is about it. Besides ravishing each other everywhere they can, they are nearly glued at the hip, Clove accompanying Cato everywhere except to his most important meetings. He showers her with jewels and gifts and he even listens to her, something Finnick never would've imagined possible. He suspects the king only allows the affair to continue because he assumes it must be a purely lustful arrangement, if he had any inkling Cato cared at all, Finnick is sure he would order it terminated. Clove is the daughter of a baron and not at all suitable as a wife to a future king, something Princess Margaret most certainly is.

The king despises the Scots with a flaming passion and has often mused aloud how he'd love to carry on Edward I's great work and crush them to dust, but he is very low on options right now. James III knows this, Finnick is sure, and fully intends to press his advantage.

The Lancastrian exiles have almost nothing except for what King James sees fit to give them, they are entirely at his mercy. Some did manage to gather some riches before they fled England, but most, like Finnick, have nothing but what they wore into battle that day. He has a horse, his armour and what he'd worn beneath it and that's all. To make matters worse, reports from England have confirmed what he'd known was coming, he has been attainted and everything he owns now belongs to Queen Katniss of York. He is officially destitute.

Enobaria and Cato did manage to take coins and jewels with them when they'd made their flight from Westminster (and Finnick is both disgusted and unsurprised to learn King Coriolanus abandoned them and tried only to save himself), but it is nowhere near enough to keep them all housed, fed, clothed and to fund an army for invasion. King James is their only hope of regaining England and it is on his generosity that they live. It is a bitter pill for his uncle to swallow, but it is the truth. With that in mind, the king consents to the engagement and so alongside their plans for conquering England, the betrothal ceremony of Prince Cato, heir of England and Princess Margaret of Scotland is planned.

Cato is furious over the whole thing and if Cato were anyone else, Finnick would certainly be sympathetic. He is sure it is just awful to be forced into a marriage with someone when you are so deeply attached to someone else, but sympathy for Cato has always been difficult to come by. Especially at moments like now.

"So, how is the monkish life suiting you?" Cato cackles at him, one arm wrapped snugly around Clove's waist. Finnick inhales sharply but swallows his words. No matter how tempting, he is not allowed to knock Cato's teeth in.

"You're little fiancée in England must be so charmed that you're being so chaste," he continues and Clove smirks cruelly. Finnick bites his tongue and this mocking of his faithfulness is rich coming from Cato, who has never touched any woman but Clove.

"Or perhaps it isn't a choice, perhaps your little prick doesn't even work."

Cato and Clove both laugh as if that's the funniest thing in the entire world and Finnick barely manages to stop his eyes from rolling. His manhood works just fine (and it isn't little, so sod off) but there's no one in the world that could ever tempt him away from Annie. Cato's just trying to get a rise out of you, ignore him. Finnick does, but then he's had a lifetime of practice.

"I wonder if she's being quite so virginal," Clove says nastily, dark eyes fixed on Finnick but he doesn't allow her the satisfaction of a reaction. She can taunt all she likes, if there's one thing he trusts, it's Annie.

Annie, oh Annie

He misses her with a fierceness that scares him and he dreams of her every night, dreams of seeing her again, holding her, talking to her and...well, let's just say it's a good thing the Earl of Oxford can't read thoughts, or Finnick might find himself missing a crucial part of his anatomy.

Sometimes though, his dreams are nightmares.

He's been going out of his mind with worry, so much so he can barely function. He has no idea where she is, how she is and now with her father attainted, she will have nothing and no one. Sometimes he wakes cold, sweaty, with his heart galloping in his chest and it's because of Annie, because of all the horrible things that he imagines happening to her. Her only hope is that someone takes pity on her, a relative or friend or even the Yorkists, if not she'll be left homeless and starving.

And that's if she even survived.

Word had reached them that the Duke of Buckingham had burned Hedingham and Finnick had actually puked when he'd heard. Annie was at Hedingham and God only knows what Darius had done with her. It was almost inconceivable that his step-father's little nephew could have turned on them so entirely, but he had proved it rather convincingly. In any other circumstance, Finnick might have cared about that betrayal, but all he can feel is his fear for Annie, tormenting him day in and day out. The only thing that keeps him sane is focusing on their planned invasion, pinning all his hopes on the idea that he will soon be back in England, soon he'll be able to find her and make sure she's safe.

She has to be

Please Annie, please be safe

---

1463

Of all the castles she's been to, Finny's Dunstanburgh Castle in Northumberland is by far her favourite. It is a great big fortress on the coast and from the moment she'd first visited, she'd been enchanted. There is something about the sea stretching out before them, about the salt in the air that's just stunning. She feels...alive here in a way she never does anywhere else.

"Annie!" a hearty voice calls and she beams, turning around in her saddle to see Finny headed down the castle's front steps. He is taller yet again, broader and, well, handsome. Annie blushes but it's true, he seems to grow lovelier every time she sees him. His skin has a sunshine touch of gold, his hair shines bronze and there's something about his face, something she could never hope to describe. A groom helps her down from her horse and she throws herself on Finny, breathing in his smell of sea and summer.

"It's good to see you," he whispers and his breath is hot on her ear. She shivers a bit and squeezes him as tight as she can.

"Oh Finny," she sighs and he stiffens for a just a moment. She pulls back to look at him and there's a shadow in his eyes, one that flits away almost before she recognizes it.

"I'm a bit old for Finny, don't you think?" he laughs and she blinks.

"Oh, okay. Finnick."

It sounds a little off on her tongue, a blot of melancholy appears on her heart and she keeps thinking about that shadow in his eyes.

"Should I call you Anne?" he asks and she shakes her head.

"No, I like Annie best."

He nods and that shadow is back, dark and sad as it flutters over him. It's gone a moment later and he's all smiles, tugging her by the hand.

"Come on, I'll help you unpack."

(what she doesn't know, what she can't know, is that what he wants to say is I'm still Finny, I'll always be your Finny)

(but then he remembers his uncle, stern, unforgiving and his words It's time for you to grow up Finnick)

(no more tears, no more childish games, it's time you became a man)

---

"I'm scared," Annie admits later while they float around in one of the castles meres. He'd taught her to swim here years ago but now she finds herself feeling shy, almost afraid to touch his bare skin like she never has been before.

"Of what?" he asks, shaking his head like a dog. The sunlight makes the water on him sparkle and for a moment she is distracted from what she'd been thinking.

"Annie?"

She pinches her arm and grasps at her former train of thought.

"There are riots, Finnick, all over the country. What if they get worse?"

He frowns for a moment and she lingers over those lips, a steady heat growing in her face.

"They won't," he says firmly and she looks up into his eyes, lovely and perfectly green. "Local riots are one thing, but it's not as if these people are going to start rebelling against the King. They're just a little upset, it'll blow over."

Annie nods but deep down, she's not so sure she believes it.

She's not sure he believes it either.

---

They were right not to.

Rebellion, real rebellion, breaks out in September.

Uncle Boggs is ordered to help stamp it out and Finnick is sent off to join Annie and her mother at Great Canfield Castle. It's a relief in a sense, he's not sure he could have survived the worry all by himself. Her father is also off to fight and he knows the minute he sees her that she is taking just as much comfort in him as he is in her. Still, they try and behave like this is any other visit, like death is not lurking just beyond their walls.

"Please Mags, oh please can't we?" Annie begs and Mags raises an eyebrow.

"I'm not sure your lady mother would approve," she says and Finnick grimaces. Annie's eyes widen with perfect misery and she clasps her hands.

"Oh please Mags, just for an hour. I swear we'll be good," she promises and Mags rolls her eyes with a fond smile.

"Oh alright, just don't get into any trouble," she says with mock sternness and Finnick grins.

"Never," he swears, hand pressed to his heart and Mags laughs.

"Oh go on then," she says and they do, smiling as they run off hand in hand. They rush down to the river and the air is sticky and warm, absolutely perfect for a swim.

"I've been dreaming of this," he says and means it, "there's nowhere to swim in London. The Thames smells rank; I'd probably catch the plague swimming in there."

Annie laughs and Finnick grins before he pulls off his belt. Annie reaches behind her to undo her girdle as Finnick tugs off his boots and he can't help but notice the slight red tinge to her skin. She turns so he can unlace her houppelande and his fingers fumble with the ties, a strange sort of heat fluttering in his belly.

"Dresses should be easier to get out of," he mutters and she shivers a little with his breath on her neck. He finally gets it and then the kirtle beneath it until she's in nothing but her shift and boots. His stomach feels all the hotter and just like over the summer, he can't help but notice how different she looks. She's taller than she used to be, but then so is he. Her shift leaves little to the imagination and he can see her every curve, ones that definitely didn't used to exist. She sits down to take her boots off and he shakes his head. He pulls off his doublet and then his hose, the feel of Annie's eyes on him making him feel twitchy (though not really in a bad way). She stands up and he yanks off his shirt. Annie gasps.

"Oh Finnick," she breathes and reaches out to touch his back. He shivers at her touch, her fingers soft on his skin and he knows without asking what she must have seen.

"Oh, right," he says with a laugh, as if he'd forgotten all about it. He knows she's seeing thin white scars on his back, each one trailing diagonally from left shoulder to right hip.

"What happened?" she asks and he can't look at her, his easy smile only barely staying on.

"I might've told Cato to take his head out of his arse, which as it turns out, didn't make him all that happy. It's my own fault, I should've known better. He complained to his father, the king took exception with me disrespecting our future sovereign and a lashing later, well I've definitely learned my lesson."

He laughs again like it's no big deal, like it's nothing at all. He doesn't mention his terror at the king's ice cold fury, the pain like no other when the lash had struck him. He doesn't mention how hard he'd cried nor Cato's laughing taunts (hah, what a girl you are, crybaby) nor his mother's harsh condemnations (stop snivelling, Finnick, these tears are disgraceful. You're an embarrassment). He doesn't mention Uncle Boggs' rage at the king, the king's threats should Boggs defy him or the violent guilt that had swarmed him at the thought of Uncle Boggs being harmed.

After all, he has learned his lesson.

(respect, loyalty, duty. If you cannot follow these three principles, than there is no use for you, nor for those who would defend you)

(remember that)

(he'll never forget)

He chances a glance at Annie and she has her hands over her mouth, her eyes bright with unshed tears. He grins.

"Come on, weren't we supposed to be swimming?"

He dives in before she can answer and she just watches him, her heart breaking down the middle.

(he doesn't say a lot of things, but it doesn't matter)

(Annie knows him, she always has)

---

They spend three weeks together and fear looms over them, poisoning what could have been a happy visit. No matter how hard they try, they can't forget what's going on in England, cannot forget the danger both Uncle Boggs and her father are in.

"It will be over soon, won't it?" Annie asks quietly as they stand out on the ramparts, looking out over the land and Finnick swallows, a cold lump in his chest.

"I hope so," he says and Annie takes his hand.

"Do they...do they really want to get rid of the King?" she whispers and it seems impossible that anyone would try anything of the sort. And yet...

"Maybe," he murmurs and she inhales sharply.

"What does that mean for you?" she asks and he can feel her terror. He squeezes her hand and tries his best to smile.

"I should be fine. I'm pretty far down the line of succession."

The wind picks up briefly, blowing her flowery scented hair in his face and she frowns.

"How? You're the king's nephew."

"Yeah, but it's a bit more complicated than that. He's only really my half-uncle, remember? He and my dad share a mum, but not a father, and it's my uncle's father, King Henry IV that gives him his claim to the throne. So through my dad I'm the King's nephew, but I've no claim to the English throne. I do have one to the French throne though. I think King Louis is my first cousin once removed."

He tries to keep his tone light to smooth over her insecurities, but she continues to frown, concern bright in her eyes.

"But you do have a claim to the English throne?"

Finnick nods.

"Through my mother. She's descended from Edward III, so I guess I am too. But Cato's first in line, then the Duchess of Bedford, then your friend Madge, then the Portuguese royal family, then the Castilians, then me. After that I think it's Uncle Boggs, the Duke of York and then the Duke of Buckingham. So yeah, I don't think I'm much of a threat to anyone, unless the Duke of York wants to take over," he jokes but Annie doesn't laugh.

"He wouldn't right? The Duke of York? Or the Duke of Buckingham?"

She sounds genuinely afraid and he tries to give her a comforting smile.

"Be a little difficult. He's way down the list, think of how many people he'd have to get rid of. It'd be hard to justify a grab for the throne. Well..."

"Well what?" Annie asks and he shrugs.

"It's just that he could I guess, but he wouldn't I'm sure. I mean, Edward III had a lot of sons. His eldest Edward, his line's died out. The King and me, we're both descended from his third son John. The Duke of York is descended from both the second and fourth sons, so he could technically try and insist he has the better claim. But, Edward III's will barred his second son's line from inheriting. So I mean, they could say they have the better claim, but that's only if you disregard Edward III's will."

"They could though, couldn't they?"

He shrugs again.

"Yeah, but wouldn't they have done it already? If they had the better claim, they always would have, so why wait until now?"

Annie bites her lip and then nods slowly. She hugs his arm.

"I'm sorry; I'm just worried is all. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Well, don't worry. I'm a little too far down for anyone to care I think."

Annie smiles and what he doesn't say is that maybe he is in danger. He's the king's nephew, his title, his lands, his riches, they're all gifts given by his uncle. No one will ever believe he'd stand against him. Everything he is, he owes to King Coriolanus, not to mention their close blood tie. No one hoping to seize the throne would ever trust him.

If they come for the King, they'll be coming for him too.

---

The rebellion is put down and for a moment at least, everything seems to go back to normal.

(if only if only if only)

---

That Christmas is more extravagant than any Annie can remember and she wonders if the King is trying to send a message. Rebels have tried to pull him down but here he is, standing taller than ever. Silk banners hang on every wall, gold and purple with red roses and the King's crowned wolf stitched in with glittering thread. Garlands, wreaths and boughs of holly are everywhere while minstrels play in every room, dancing and singing through the halls. There are pageants, plays, hunts and tumblers to entertain them, acrobats and fire breathers and dancing girls in barely-there costumes. There is more food than she could ever describe, heaps of it on golden platters and wine fountains flow in every corner of the great hall, jewel encrusted goblets overflowing in every hand. There is a masque, great contests with showers of coins as a prize and endless dancing, even to the morning hours. It's magnificent, truly, but it's a little too much for Annie. Too loud, too crowded, too over the top. She thinks she'd prefer a quiet Christmas, one with only those she loved best.

Finnick is as glorious as he was last year and all the younger guests cluster around him, all of them wanting to bathe in his golden glow. Prince Cato glowers from the corner, seething with jealousy and only Clove Clifford seems to prefer his company to Finnick's. Annie feels her heart warm at Finnick's success and she's glad they've all finally realized just how fantastic he really is (though his constantly improving looks may be helping too). He tells a joke and everybody laughs, little Darius practically in tears.

I'm so happy for you Finnick

Madge hasn't come back this year and Annie can't help but be disappointed. Still, she has Finnick when he can break away from his admirers and Henry too, so she can't be too upset. The music swells and the King orders everyone to dance, people hurriedly finding partners before he unleashes his wrath upon them. Girls look at Finnick longingly but he walks right up to her, bowing low.

"Lady Anne?" he asks, a smile in his voice, and she can feel so many angry eyes on her.

"Of course, Earl Finnick," she says and he grins, pulling her out into the middle of the dancers. She can feel the warmth of his hands even through her many layers and when he spins her, she can't help but notice all the dirty looks directed her way.

"I think every girl here wants to dance with you," she laughs, though she doesn't really find it funny. Finnick shrugs.

"I'd rather dance with you," he says simply, sweetly and Annie might be made of jelly. For a moment when they move around the floor, she forgets about jealous girls, about rebellions and wicked kings. There's only she and Finnick, her Finnick.

Of course, every song ends and he kisses her hand when theirs does, a sparkly tingle travelling up her arm. Glimmer Mowbray practically throws herself at him for the next dance and he shoots Annie a grimace over her head. She giggles and then Henry is there, a determined look on his face.

"Finnick says you taught him to dance," he says and she nods.

"Would you help me?" he asks and she blinks. "I know how, I'm just not sure I'm very good."

"Of course," she says but she can't help being confused. He takes her hand and they move through the appropriate steps, his eyes focused on his feet.

"Why this sudden interest?" she asks and he doesn't look up.

"My father says he's trying to convince the Duke of Bedford to let me marry his daughter-"

"Madge?" she interrupts in shock and Henry shrugs.

"I guess. If the Duke of Bedford agrees, I want to be a good husband. Mother says a good husband is a good dancer."

Annie tries to process this and feels surprise thick like syrup in her veins. Lady Alma will be so disappointed if this works out. Even still, Annie herself can't help but be pleased. Henry and Madge are both nice, she's sure they'll make a lovely couple. And if Madge marries Henry, she can't marry Finnick. Annie blushes.

They finish their dance and Henry looks at her in worry.

"So?" he asks and she smiles.

"I think you're great. Madge will be very pleased, I'm sure."

Henry grins.

"Great, thanks. I was thinking of getting her a present, do you think she'd like that?"

Annie nods. "Oh yes, I'm sure she would."

Henry nods, still smiling and then Finnick sidles up beside her.

"Mead?" he offers, holding out a goblet and Annie takes a sip. It's warm and spiced and she smiles.

"My favourite."

"Of course," he says and his fingers weave through hers.

"Henry might marry Madge," she says and Finny grins as Henry nods in confirmation.

"I hope she likes to climb trees," he teases and Henry looks absolutely horrified as he contemplates the fact that she might not. Annie giggles, Finnick bumps her shoulder and even with every problem in England, for now at least, she feels nothing but happy.

---

(it never lasts though)

(it can't)

---

Goodbye always comes too soon.

Finnick holds her and she wraps her arms around his waist, her cheek resting against his shoulder.

"I hate saying goodbye," she sighs and he nods.

"Me too. I'll try and convince Uncle Boggs to let me visit before summer," he says and her heart leaps at the possibility.

"Come along now, Anne," her mother says sternly and she pulls away reluctantly. She touches his cheek softly.

"I'll miss you," she whispers and he puts his hand over hers

"I'll miss you too," he says and kisses her palm. She feels a shiver travel throughout her body, her blood pumping suddenly faster.

"Anne," her mother says sharply, a warning in her tone and Annie forces herself to walk away from him. She climbs up into the litter and leans out the window, watching him as they ride away.

Oh Finnick, I wish we could stay together and never ever have to say goodbye.

---

1468
September-October

The invasion begins in September.

Bankrolled and with their numbers swelled by the Scots, two Lancastrian forces march into Northumberland, determined and hungry to retake it. Even King Coriolanus rides out with them, confident that he will soon see his enemies burning and bleeding before him. It is easy at first, towns and castles surrendering without a fight.

I'm coming Annie

And then the Yorkists come.

Marvel, Earl of Northumberland collides with one section of the army outside the town of Hexham and it is a bloodbath. He moves too quickly, catching the Lancastrians off guard and the entire right detachment flees into the town before a single blow is struck. The rest are left outmanned and with no room to manoeuvre. They are driven back into the Devil's Water and slaughtered. Many drown, some are crushed as they try to climb the banks and escape but most are merely cut down, the river clogged with bodies and dyed red.

The army quickly surrenders, but pompous Marvel, that boy Finnick grew up beside, shows no mercy, executing over thirty of the leaders.

Finnick's half of the army is caught at Hedgeley Moor by the Earl of Warwick. It starts out the same as every battle, archers exchanging arrows and Finnick forces himself to be calm.

We can do this.

They can't, as it turns out. The Lancastrian army collapses when the Yorkists slam into them and it is chaos, pure and simple. Finnick isn't sure if he hears or imagines the command of retreat in the carnage but soon everyone is fleeing the field, tripping over the corpses left behind. Finnick rides as hard as he can, not even tasting their defeat, not yet at least. For now all he can think of is survival.

(later he'll hear that a few didn't flee the battle and led by Sir Ralph Percy, they made a brave last stand)

(none survived)

And just like that, by the end of October, they are defeated.

Again.

---

1464

Rebellion comes again in the last week of March.

It flares up in Devonshire and Uncle Boggs has to go out and fight again, risking his life to keep the king on his throne. Finnick knows he is supposed to be strong, knows he's too old to show fear or cry, but inside he is terrified.

What will I do without you?

Uncle Boggs squeezes his shoulder and Finnick grins, nothing but excited at this prospect of battle.

(he's not allowed to be anything else)

"Would you like to pay the Countess of Oxford a visit? The Earl will be joining me against the rebels, but he says you are welcome to Canfield, should you like," Uncle Boggs says and Finnick nods.

"Annie's probably worried sick," he says because she's allowed to be and Finnick wonders if Uncle Boggs can tell that what he's really saying is I'm worried sick. Uncle Boggs claps him on the back.

"Good man, look after her."

(and what he's really saying is look after yourself)

"I will," Finnick promises and he hates watching Uncle Boggs ride away, hates that he is too old now to be anything but brave.

(these tears are disgraceful Finnick, you're an embarrassment)

(hah, what a girl you are)

(men do not know fear and they do not weep like children)

---

He arrives at Great Canfield Castle on the first day of April, the rain finally, finally letting up.

It had been a long, long ride and he swings off his horse with aches in all of his muscles. He is sopping wet, cold to his bones and starving, but all of that vanishes the minute he sees Annie. She is waiting just inside the doors of the entrance hall, bouncing from foot to foot, and he grins, even his fear for Uncle Boggs taking a momentary break. He takes the front steps two at a time and she smiles at him, bright and sunny.

"Hullo Annie," he says and her eyes shine.

"Good day, Earl Finnick," she greets, her voice overly formal and she drops into a curtsy, one much too deep for an Earl. Finnick follows suit, removing his drenched hat and holding it over his heart.

"Greetings, Lady Anne," he says and sweeps into a flourishing bow. They stay that way for only a moment before their laughter breaks out, all of Finnick's tension just melting away. I missed this.

"It's good to see you," he says and her cheeks turn a pretty pink. She looks him over and frowns.

"Oh Finnick, you're soaked. Come, you must change or you'll get sick."

She takes him by the arm and practically marches him up to his room, puddles left behind in his wake. There are already servants there with some of his luggage and Annie flings open his trunk to riffle through for dry clothes. He grins.

"I am old enough to dress myself you know," he teases and she pauses, her blush moving down her neck.

"Of course, yes, I know," she mumbles and steps away, face hidden behind her hair. He laughs and walks over, squeezing her arm as he passes.

"What about this one?" he asks, holding out a blue doublet for her inspection. She nods and takes a tentative step closer.

"I think it would look very fetching with the white hose," she says quietly, pointing at the hose squished in the corner of his trunk. He nods and he very much likes the idea of Annie thinking his attire fetching.

"Thanks," he says and bumps her hip. The pink of her cheeks starts to darken and then she steps away again, moving back towards the door. Finnick pulls off his cloak and shakes it out, water droplets flying in every direction.

"Watch it!" Annie laughs, shielding her face with her hands and he grins in apology.

"Sorry, m'lady, I'm an absolute menace."

"You are," she agrees and he sticks out his tongue. She laughs, a sweet, happy sound that makes him feel very warm. He undoes his belt and her laughter starts to fade, her skin suddenly flushed.

"Mags wanted to know when you arrived, I'd best go and tell her," she says quickly, her voice high and Finnick blinks. Before he can say a word she is gone, the door thudding shut behind her. Finnick stares at where she'd been and that was odd, wasn't it?

I wonder what's gotten into her…

---

His hair's still damp when he comes down to eat and Annie won't look at him, her face very red.

I don't get it, what did I do?

There is something horribly cold in his stomach at the thought that he might've done something to upset her and he wishes he knew what it was so he could apologize. He sits across from her and she keeps her head down, her eyes focused on her plate. He feels anxiety roll over him in waves and I'm sorry Annie, whatever it is, I'm really sorry. Lady Mary arrives and the food comes out, but Finnick has barely any appetite. He pokes at his supper and Lady Mary watches him with hawkish eyes, a general sense of disapproval wafting off of her. He's old enough now to recognize that she's never liked him and as much as that rankles, he's much more concerned with Annie.

"Well," Lady Mary says when they're done, "time to get back to your embroidery Anne, don't you think?"

Finnick feels something hard settle in his stomach.

"Oh," he says, trying and failing not to sound disappointed, "I was hoping Lady Anne might join me for a round of cards."

Lady Mary's face sours and he knows she is about to refuse.

"What a lovely idea, after all, someone should entertain our guest," Mags interjects helpfully and he can't help but smile in her direction. She winks.

"Of course," Annie mumbles, still not looking at him and Lady Mary can't refuse now, it would be the height of rudeness. She gives him a poisonous look.

"Very well," she says tightly and leaves, at least one weight falling off Finnick's shoulders.

(though really, what's her problem?)

Annie and Finnick sit across a little table from each other and Mags settles in the corner to sew. Finnick casts a glance at her and then leans over towards Annie as he deals.

"Annie-"

He never has the chance to say anything else, Annie quickly backing away from him, her chair scraping over the stone floor. Finnick blinks and honestly feels as if she's punched him in the gut.

"Have I done something to offend you?" he whispers, though it might come out as more of a hiss. He winces at his own angry tone but can't help feeling hurt. Annie covers her face in her hands and Finnick sits back down heavily in his chair. He glares at his cards. What could I have possibly done to make her hate me so?

(and if he's angry, it's only because he's so afraid)

"Would you like to start, Lady Anne?" he asks stiffly and she doesn't answer. He looks at her and she lowers her hands, carefully picking up her cards.

And then she throws them under the table.

Finnick's eyes widen as he stares at her and her face is cherry red and burning.

"Oh no, I seem to have dropped my cards," she says loudly, "would you help me pick them up, Lord Finnick?"

And then, before he can answer, she dives under the table.

Has she gone insane?

Have I?

He looks over at Mags but she doesn't seem to have noticed anything odd. He looks back at the table and nearly jumps out of his seat when Annie grabs his ankle. He scoots back in alarm and she pops up between his legs.

"Come on," she hisses and slides back under.

I think she has gone insane

Oh hell

Finnick slips under the table and Annie is on her hands and knees, her face still quite red. She rocks back to sit and he just stares at her.

"What's going on?" he asks, perhaps a bit more annoyed sounding than he'd wanted and she grimaces.

"I'm sorry."

"For what exactly?" he asks, and again, his voice is much colder than intended. If possible, Annie's face seems to darken.

"Well, you…well it's just…you took off your belt."

Finnick stares at her.

"I don't understand. I've changed in front of you plenty of times."

"Yes, yes I know. But that was before. I'll be thirteen soon, you'll be fifteen. We're old enough now to be married; you can't exactly get naked in front of me," she explains quickly and he can practically feel the heat from her face.

"I wouldn't even have thought of it myself," she hurries to continue, though he's not so sure he believes her, "but Mother brought it up. She thinks it's inappropriate how much time we spend together and oh, I'm so sorry, really. I couldn't help but think of what she said when you took it off and I panicked, I'm so embarrassed. She's worried you see, worried you might…well…" Annie trails off and despite the blush he can feel on his cheeks, a spurt of annoyance shoots off inside of him.

"She doesn't trust me," he says flatly and Annie winces. "She thinks if we are left alone I will attempt to rob you of your virtue. I'm not an animal, I'm not going to attack you," he snaps and Annie reaches over to squeeze his hand.

"I know you wouldn't, but she'd put all these thoughts in my head and the minute you took that belt off, well, I couldn't help thinking of you…well, in ways I shouldn't. I was mortified. I never thought for a moment you were going to do anything."

He's relieved to hear it, really, but there's something else she's said that catches his attention.

"Thinking of me?" he echoes and her eyes go very wide.

"No, I wasn't-I mean, what I meant was..." she takes a deep breath, "I know nothing of the sort was going on, but no one would have believed us if they'd walked in. It's not as if I was…imagining things."

"Of course not," he agrees and wonders why he feels so hot. And really, he's not sure what she would imagine. He has only the vaguest idea what people might do without their clothes and he's never given it much thought.

(though, after this, he's definitely going to)

"I'm sorry," she says again, "and if it helps, she doesn't trust me either. She's certain that should you ever attempt to rob me of my virtue, that I would…give it willingly," she whispers, her eyes shyly turned to the floor and there's something entirely unwelcome going on in his stomach. He clears his throat.

"It does help actually," he says and Annie grins.

"Am I forgiven?" she asks and he rolls his eyes.

"Like I could ever stay mad at you."

She beams, his stomach does that thing again, and he looks down at her scattered cards.

"Here," he says, gathering them up, "this is why we're under here, isn't it?"

He goes to hand them to her only she's moved forward to take them from him and suddenly their faces are very, very close. Her cheeks starts to flush and he thinks of everything she'd just told him and then everything her mother'd apparently said and he rockets backwards, his head cracking on the underside of the table. He falls back down with a loud curse, clutching at his head as it splits right through with pain. Tears immediately spring to his eyes but he forces them not to fall and Annie squeaks in shock.

"Finnick, oh Finnick, are you okay?"

She scuttles over to him and Mags hurries over, having heard all the commotion.

"What's going on under here?" she demands and Finnick can't answer, his teeth biting down on his lip to bottle up a cry of pain.

"He's hurt himself," Annie reports anxiously and Mags drags him out from under the table to examine him.

"You've cut yourself," she says and Annie gasps, "I'll have to go fetch something to fix it up."

She hurries off and Annie comes up to his side, her hand rubbing his back.

"Does it hurt terribly?" she asks and what he wants to say is yes, yes, yes, but he knows boys, men do not wilt under pain.

"It's fine," he says instead even as those tears continue to burn in his eyes.

"You look like you're about to cry," she says and immediately he feels his defenses rise, his uncle's accusing eyes boring into him.

I won't tolerate a disgrace in this family Finnick

"I'm not about to cry, that'd be pathetic," he says and he sounds so much like his uncle he wants to puke.

"Finnick…"

"Boys don't cry," he tells her (and maybe himself) and she furrows her brow.

"Why not?"

"Because they don't," he snaps, his uncle swimming before his eyes, and then instantly regrets it.

"Sorry," he murmurs and she frowns.

"You can cry as much as you like, I don't think it's pathetic," she says firmly and he stares at her, waiting to see the lie in her eyes. But there's none and he feels something odd in his chest. She means it, she really does, and she might be the only person in all the world who'd think him strong even if he cried. He swallows, the urge to cry now greater than ever (though for a completely different reason), but he knows he can't. Annie may not hold it against him, but he knows everyone else would. They would call him weak, embarrassing, shameful. They already have.

(but still, it's nice to know that if ever he is weak, at least Annie will not abandon him)

---

Over the next few days, Finnick decides it might do them well to spend some time apart. They don't avoid each other or anything, but he spends more time alone than he ever has during a visit with Annie. He hates it, he really does, but every time he's with her, there's something tight in is body, something uncomfortable. He pushes through it mostly, the thought of being without Annie too awful to contemplate, but he isn't as glued to her he'd like to be.

I hate this

He goes to the river and even though it's slightly chilly, he strips off his boots and hose to stick his feet in the water.

He could use the cool down.

He drops his head into his hands and groans, his whole body feeling hot. Why did Lady Mary have to think such awful things? I feel like a deviant and I haven't even done anything. Not that I would, I'm not a criminal. And what would we even do? Kiss I suppose and-

"Finnick! Finnick! FINNICK!" Annie screams from behind him and for a moment Finnick is positive they are under attack. The rebels have come to Canfield and they're going to siege us. Before he can sink too deep into terror, he turns to see Annie running towards him, her hair and gown streaming out behind her. She does not look frightened in the least, in fact, she looks jubilant. Her eyes are bright, her smile wide and Finnick jumps up from where he'd been sitting on the river's edge.

"They've won! It's over; father and Boggs are coming home!"

She flaps a letter at him and he starts to grin, relief nearly making him sway. Thank the Lord. Annie laughs and flings herself at him in her joy, her arms wrapping around his neck. He catches her and as happy as he is, he thinks to spin her around. He starts to, but as he'd just had his feet in the river, they're slippery and wet and he very quickly loses his footing. His eyes widen in alarm and he shoves Annie from him as he falls, still desperately trying to find purchase on the wet grass. Annie shrieks, he shouts and then he lands with a splash, the water much colder all over him than it had been on his feet. He swallows half the river and kicks for the surface, his clothes dragging around him.

"Finnick!" Annie yelps and then she's down on her knees reaching for him. She grabs his arms and pulls, the both of them managing to haul him from the water. He flops over like a fish and coughs, Annie hovering by his side nervously.

"Oh Finnick," she says as all the water he'd swallowed comes back up. She rubs his back and he starts to shiver.

"Ugh," he manages.

"You're freezing, we should get you inside," she says and he nods, another shiver running over him. She helps him up and they both freeze in sudden horror.

He isn't wearing any hose.

He'd taken them off to wet his feet and her mother's concerns come racing back to him, the whole accusatory torrent. Annie's eyes are round and focused on his bare legs, her cheeks dark and red. His face burns and he remembers how she'd jumped into his arms, remembers holding her tight. I'm in my breeches, I held her while standing in my breeches. Oh God, I wasn't wearing anything but my breeches (and his shirt of course, but that doesn't seem to register through his profound horror). She whirls around quickly.

"I'll go and have Mags make you something hot," she offers, high pitched with embarrassment and he nods.

"Great, thanks," he says and his voice is much higher too. He winces and she sets off, practically fleeing from him. This is mortifying. He looks about desperately for his hose and scrambles into them, nearly tipping himself back into the river in the process.

Thank God her mother didn't see that, she'd never forgive me

never

---

Mags has a nice hot bowl of soup waiting for him after he changes into dry clothes and she is kind enough not to ask how he got himself so wet. Annie won't look at him and he can't really blame her. Did I really hug her in my breeches? Her parents would skin me alive.

Maybe I can't be trusted.

Mags leaves them alone for a moment and he wishes she wouldn't. What am I supposed to say?

"Thank you…for uh, pulling me out," he mumbles around his spoon and Annie turns crimson.

"Oh no, it was my fault you fell in in the first place. I'm so sorry," she says, fingers winding nervously through her hair.

"No, it was the spinning that did it and that was all me," he says and then they fall into silence, his lack of hose just hanging between them. Slippy feet, no hose and a dip in the river, it's like a comedy of errors, he thinks sullenly. How ridiculous.

And really, it is ridiculous, so ridiculous in fact that he starts to laugh. He can just picture himself flailing about in the river in his underthings and God, what an absolute lunatic he must have looked like. Annie stares at him for a moment as if he's lost his mind and he thinks of her red face and how she actually ran from him and he laughs all the more, so hard he nearly chokes on his soup. Annie bites her lip and then she nods, laughter starting to spill from her lips. Soon, she is laughing as hard as he is, clutching at her stomach and what a pair they make, two fools if ever there were any.

And that's how Mags finds them, sitting in the kitchen laughing themselves to tears. She doesn't bother to ask why; she just leans on the door and smiles.

They are ridiculous, the both of them, but she's not sure she's ever loved anyone more.

---

Finnick is beyond excited to go home and see Uncle Boggs, but that doesn't make goodbye any easier. In fact, every goodbye with Annie seems harder than the last.

Mags packs him more food than he'll ever need for the journey back to Wales and Lady Mary glares at him as if she expects him to try and ravish Annie right there in the dirt, but he barely notices.

"I'll miss you," he says, both her hands held in his. She turns that pretty shade of pink again and that strange something happens in his stomach. He ignores it and grins.

"Even if you did push me in the river," he teases and she laughs.

"And here I was thinking you were a gentleman, taking all the blame yourself. I guess I was wrong."

"I guess you were."

They smile at each other and he wishes he could just take her home with him, though he knows Lady Mary would never allow it. She'd probably assume he meant to defile her. As if on cue, she clears her throat.

"I am sure Lord Boggs is eager to see you," Lady Mary says pointedly and Finnick barely restrains his sigh. He forgets about Lady Mary and focuses instead on Annie, giving her his best grin. He squeezes her hands and presses a kiss to back of each one.

"I'll see you soon," he promises and she nods.

"Very soon."

There's a stray hair fluttering by her cheek that he'd love to tuck behind her ear, but with Lady Mary still looking at him like he has the plague, perhaps he shouldn't. He climbs on his horse instead and I wish we never had to say goodbye. He spares one last look at Annie before he rides off and she is waving, her smile bright and lovely.

He tucks that smile in his heart and carries it with him all the way to Wales.

---

Finnick does not throw himself on Uncle Boggs like he wants to, nor does he tell him how absolutely thrilled he is that he made it. The king would never approve so instead he drinks in the sight of his uncle, a happy hum in his heart.

"What happened?" he asks, excitement warming his voice but Uncle Boggs doesn't smile. His eyes are grim as he drops a heavy hand on Finnick's shoulder and fear, sudden and ice cold, starts to bloom inside him.

What? What is it?

---

(Uncle Boggs makes it home safe and whole, but not everyone is so fortunate)

(Henry Holland, Earl of Huntingdon, fourteen years old and always good for a laugh, dies on the battlefield, a rebel sword slicing through him from shoulder to hip)

(Finnick swore he'd be strong, promised himself and the king that he wouldn't cry or ever show weakness, but he does that night)

(he finds the tallest tree he can out on the grounds and sobs beneath it, can almost imagine Henry in the branches above him)

(this isn't fair, this isn't right)

(and how sad then, that this is the England he has sworn to defend)

---

In the months that follow Henry's death, Finnick buries the boy he used to be.

He will be strong and brave, unwavering, unflinching. He trains every day, until sweat coats his skin and his muscles ache. He will be the best rider, the best swordsman, the best jouster. He ends his days cut and bruised, but he is back out the next day, determined and driven.

"You needn't push yourself so far," Uncle Boggs tells him, a current of worry in his voice, but Finnick pushes himself even harder. The rebels who killed Henry must be stopped, the instability in England ended and most important of all, his uncle must be appeased.

King Coriolanus has made it very clear that he expects Finnick to be ruthless and devastating on the battlefield, loyal, unquestioning and without fear.

It is your duty to fight for us, here in England or in the homes of our enemies.

He expects Finnick to smile, laugh and charm, but never to show true affection, to never get caught up in feelings or emotions.

You must win them, but never let them win you. Charming on the outside, hard on the inside.

Finnick knows what he has to do.

A man like that, he might keep those he cares for safe. Any other kind, well, tragedies are known to happen.

(but maybe, just maybe, the old Finnick, the boy he used to be, isn't quite so dead)

(you can cry as much as you like, I don't think it's pathetic)

(maybe he's just hiding, wrapped up in a shell, and waiting for when it's safe to come out)

---

1468
October-November

Their failed invasion not only costs them England, but everything else as well.

The King is captured by the Yorkists and James of Scotland decides he has backed the wrong horse. He is kind enough to let them leave rather than handing them directly over to the Yorkists, but still, they are driven from yet another kingdom. Enobaria takes command with her favourite Brutus, Duke of Somerset beside her and orders them to make for France and her cousin King Louis. They have no choice but to do so, but now they are kingless and headed even farther away from their goal. And if King Louis turns them away...

Finnick watches the coast recede and there is a hopelessness in him, one he cannot fight down. Uncle Boggs rests a comforting hand on his shoulder but it does little good. He has never truly believed in the Lancastrian cause, nor does he support the Yorkist usurpers. His uncle is evil, purely, entirely but he sees nothing in the Yorkists except ambitious, greedy liars willing to plunge the country into war to win themselves a crown. In his mind, neither side is right. He'd fought for the King because he'd sworn loyalty to him and because he'd known he had no other choice. His uncle would never allow him to sit out the conflict, the Yorkists would never have trusted him (not that he'd ever have joined then anyway) and what good, he'd asked himself, would my dying do anyone? Because that's what would have happened had he done anything other than ride to war for his uncle, a gruesome painful death. He'd wanted a quick end to the war, safety for his loved ones and maybe, maybe his uncle would be humbled by this threat, maybe he would learn to be kinder.

Now, sailing even farther away from Annie and home, he begins to think he might've been better off standing his ground and denouncing his uncle. At least then he would have died defying evil, now he'll spend his whole life fighting to win it back its crown.

Forgive me Annie

He fingers the chain around his neck and kisses the ring on the end, one his hands had outgrown long ago. It is gold with one solitary pearl and it is all he has left of her, his countess, his Annie, the other half of his heart.

I don't know how, but I'll find my way back to you

I swear Annie, we'll be together again

some day