So sorry for not updating sooner! I hope you enjoy this! The second part of the Competition will be in the next chapter, I swear!
Enjoy this chapter, though! :-)
"I AM BUSHED!" Ned yelled as he stormed into his dressing room. Everyone had their own private dressing room in which to change and dress in, but everyone mainly hung out in the large lounge room. Ned splashed some water on his face to refresh himself and then headed out to the Lounge.
When he got there, some of the others were already there, helping themselves to the food assembled on the tables.
"So, we have a 1 hour break before we go back on," Ned addressed to no one in particular.
"The Judges have a 15 minute break, but yes, we do," Richard replied as he sat down in a chair with a can of Diet Coke in his hand. "Literally everyone's gone to have a rest in their dressing rooms. I might join them with that."
"I'm going to eat something first; I'm starving!" Ned replied, eagerly digging into a plate of mini-pizzas.
"Hey, don't hog it all!" Hal grabbed the plate to pick two up and put them on his own. "Yorkist pig!"
"That's rich!" Ned laughed, smacking Hal on the back of the head as he walked past. "Coming from the man who ate an entire tub of chocolate ice-cream yesterday without sharing any with me!"
"That tub had my name all over it!" Hal retorted back. "And besides, my wife helped me eat it. As did Tudor and Harry, so shove it. You were going to eat all of those mini-pizzas by yourself if I hadn't intervened."
"No, he wouldn't; I would have stopped him," Richard lazily replied, slouched over in his chair with a magazine over his face.
"Says Mr. 'I'm too lazy to even sit up straight with a correct back posture'." Hal snickered. "Don't blame it on your scoliosis, Richard."
Richard threw his magazine at the Lancastrian, which Hal stealthily ducked.
"By my father's beard, I am starving!" the door slammed open to reveal Thor in the doorway. He marched in, grabbed a handful of crisps and shoved them all messily into his mouth, crumbs flying everywhere.
"Nice. And I thought I was supposed to be the messy eater!" Ned remarked.
"I never said you were messy; just that you were a hog," Hal retorted back.
"I'm the hog, actually," Richard piped up. "My symbol is the White Boar."
"Yeah, aren't you just a bore!" Ned laughed.
"Move aside, you overweight buffoon!" Loki came in and playfully shoved Thor aside to get at the table.
"Overweight?!" Thor spat. "Oh can it, you tea-drinking, wizard wannabe!"
"BURN!" Hal cackled.
"That's rich coming from a man who still has problems with cutting up his food and has to have Mother do it for him."
"Ouch!" Ned chuckled.
"At least I'm not a Mummy's boy!"
"Oh really, Thor, that's the oldest jibe in the book!"
As the brothers argued, pushing each other back and forth playfully, Sigyn slapped them both on the head as she walked past to get into the room. "Oh, can it both of you!" she sighed, tired from their bickering. She sat down on the large sofa and hold out a hand. "Chuck us a can of Diet Coke, Loki," she asked, leaning back into the sofa.
Loki blinked, surprised at being smacked, and nodded. He leaned over his brother's arm to grab a can and threw it at her, which she caught. He grabbed a plate, filled it up with sandwiches, crisps, cocktail sausages, a mini-pizza, then his own plate and a can of Coke for himself, and went to sit down next to her.
"Tired?" he gave her a small smile as he handed her the plate he had filled up.
"Who knew that English life was so exhausting?" she replied, taking the plate from him.
"English life?" Hal echoed. "Why, what's Norwegian life like then?"
"More relaxed than this," Loki replied, singling an arm around the girl to pull her closer to him.
"It would be more relaxing if you and Mr. "Look at my muscles over there" would stop bickering." Sigyn smirked.
"Did you just insult me?!" Thor exclaimed. "You foul wench!"
"Did you just call my girlfriend a wench?!" Loki shot back. "Shut your ignorant, arrogant pie hole!"
"Seriously? You're the Silver Tongue and you come up with that pathetic excuse of a jibe?" Thor laughed.
"Well-" Loki was about to retort when Sigyn placed a hand on his shoulder.
"No arguing for the rest of the day. Thor: Sit down and shut up. Loki: Eat your food." Sigyn sighed again and shook her head. "Honestly, it's like I'm looking after two children!"
"Mummy, I'm a bad boy, please spank me," Loki gave her a flirtatious smirk and she playfully smacked him on the head.
Ned burst out laughing and slapped his thigh. "I like where this is going!" he sniggered. Richard threw another magazine at him.
Thor also burst out laughing but blushed with embarrassment. "I do not need to know or see or hear that, Loki!"
Loki cast a cheeky glance in his direction. "Jealous, Brother? Do you want spanking, too?" He conjured a whip out of thin air. Ned's eyes widened.
"Holy hell! Where did that come from?" he exclaimed.
The Norse Gods glanced at each other. To Midgardian eyes, they couldn't see Loki's magic, they just saw a blur of motion.
"I hid it behind the sofa..." Loki coughed. "And now, Thor, prepare to be spanked!"
Thor leapt up off his chair and ran around the sofa as Loki chased him, waving the whip like a wand.
"Tuae in gratia... Calumnia!" Loki chanted, and the whip extended in great lengths to wrap around his brother's ankle to pull him to the floor. Again, all the Midgardians saw was a sudden blur.
"No!" Thor laughed as Loki leapt at him and proceeded to tickle him and hit him with the whip. "I give in!"
"The Great Thor gives in? To me? Wow!" Loki smirked. "Repeat after me: I am a dirty boy who needed to be punished."
"I am a dirty boy who needed to be punished!" Thor was in hysterics as he was being tickled.
"My brother is the greatest trickster in all the universe and no one can compare to his greatness."
"My brother is the greatest trickster in all the universe and no one can compare to his greatness!"
"Therefore, anything I do against him deserves a punishment."
"Therefore, anything I do against him deserves a punishment!"
"So I expect to be beaten."
"So expect to be beaten!"
"In anything I do."
"In anything I do!"
Loki grinned and climbed off of him. When he looked around, everyone was in hysterics.
Thor took the opportunity to tackle his brother to the ground and proceeded to tickle him relentlessly and mercilessly.
"NO!" Loki howled with laughter. "I'm squeamish! I'm ticklish! I'll throw up! Stop it! THOR! Please! I'm going to-"
He began to go red and blue in the face and started to choke, when Thor placed a hand over his neck to tickle his collarbone.
"Guys, I think he's choking! Thor! Stop!" Hal cried. "THOR! He's choking! Stop it!"
He leapt onto the floor and shoved the musclier man off of him. Loki was blue in the face, his eyes were closed and he was limp.
"Brother?" Thor frowned when he realised that the other man wasn't responding.
Hal placed his head onto Loki's chest to listen to his breathing. "Shit..." he whispered, when he didn't hear anything.
Slamming his hands on Loki's chest, he began to perform CPR while Richard went to get a bowl of water.
"Come on, you identical look-alike of me..." Hal growled. "Come on."
Thor was in tears. "I know he has a history of choking, but I didn't think I was hurting him!" he cried.
Suddenly, Loki's eyes popped open and everyone gasped. His eyes weren't green, nor was his skin pale. His eyes were a bright ruby red and his skin was a deep blue, alined with ridges and markings.
Whipping out his phone, Ned took a picture of him just as his skin began to fade back to a normal pale colour, and his eyes their normal green.
Loki sat up, only to vomit in shock. He began to cough and Hal smacked his back. Richard came back with the water and knelt before the Norse God, dipping the washcloth into the warm water and wiping his face with it. Sigyn went to get a cup of water and handed it to Hal, who gave it to the teen.
"M-m-m-y, t-th-thank-k-s," Loki stuttered, shivering profusely.
"Are you alright?" Hal asked, frowning in concern and placing a hand on the lad's shoulder.
Loki turned to stare into the electric blue eyes of his look-alike and nodded.
"Dude, that had to be the weirdest reaction to choking I've ever seen!" Ned exclaimed.
Loki frowned.
"Your skin went blue and your eyes went red. You had weird ridges all over your face." Hal gently explained.
"Odd..." Loki whispered. "That's n-never happened b-before..."
"Here," Ned leaned over and showed him the snapshot he'd taken.
Loki peered at it: his face was blue, covered in strange markings and ridges. His eyes were a ruby red.
He looked like a Jotun.
He couldn't possibly be a Jotun? No. No, of course he wasn't. No.
He pushed the thought of out his mind.
York pushed the buggy along the pavement, whistling cheerily as he strolled pass. Neddie was gently sleeping. The man wondered how his sons were doing; the competition was today and he hoped their efforts paid off - they'd been working so hard after all.
As he strolled down towards the duck pond, he noticed a group of three youths huddled near a tree. He frowned as he realised who they were.
"Oi, York!" Somerset yelled. "How's the hunch-back?"
"York! How's Ned's brats?" Northumberland sneered.
"York! How's that Rutland boy of yours?" Clifford's eyes gleamed.
"Shouldn't you be taking care of that prince of yours?" York spat back. "If he ever wakes up, that is..."
"No help to your Clarence and March!" Somerset spat.
"Murderers!" Northumberland scowled.
"Awww, is this your new little grandson?" Clifford cooed, motioning to Neddie - still asleep in his buggy.
"Isn't he Gloucester's brat?" Somerset asked.
"Pity he's Gloucester's, our Edouard needs an heir..." Northumberland sighed in regret.
"Still, he got to that Neville girl before Gloucester did. I wonder what Gloucester was thinking when he got to duck her himself. He must have been disgusted, looking at her body and knowing that Edouard had already touched her. He must have bedded her out of pity..." Clifford wondered, smiling.
York growled, but let it slide; he had no need of a quarrel here, or anywhere for that matter.
"No tongue, York? You've gotten old!" Somerset crowed delightfully.
"Poor York. So useless..." Northumberland grinned.
"It must be sad to see your sons ruin your business, York," Clifford laughed. "Then again, March is all lust and no brain, and Rutland... Such a pretty boy. Pity he has no backbone and only looks. He's more of a model in a display case than anything else."
"Big mouths must compensate for little brains." York stated. "Grow up, little boys, and come speak to me when you have the minds of men with talents and skills to live independently instead of scrounging off of their parents for nappies and dummies."
With that, he turned and strolled away, Neddie still asleep in the buggy.
"Richard?" Anne knocked on the door and opened it. "Richard?"
"Anne?" a voice called out in the dark and the light flickered on as the switch was pushed up. "Anne, are you alright?"
"Yes. Are you okay? It's dark in here."
"Just resting."
She saw that his shirt was off and could see his back. It was twisted; his left shoulder was higher than his right and it looked very awkward.
"How's your back, Richard?" she asked.
"Sore. How's our boy? Has my father said anything?"
"He told me today that he encountered Clifford, Somerset and Northumberland while taking him for a walk."
"Oh my God! They didn't get hurt did they?!"
"Thankfully, no. I'm worried for Edmund. Clifford seems to be aching for his blood."
"Call the fucking police, then!" Anne cried. "I don't want Edmund hurt!"
"What about Edmund?" Ned stormed into the room. "I heard someone mention that bastard Clifford and Edmund. What about them?"
"Dad took Neddie for a walk and he was jeered at by Clifford, Northumberland and Somerset. Clifford seems eager to get Edmund and I'm worried."
"Call Dad back. Tell him the minute we get back home, we're going on an all out watch."
"What the fuck will that do us?" Richard asked, frowning.
"It will buy us some time before I kick that Lancastrian's arse back to hell." Ned growled. Do it, Dickon. Now."
Richard sighed and picked up his phone.
"Helloooo haaannndssoommeee!"
The minute he step outside to get some fresh air, George felt a pair of arms launch themselves around his neck.
"GAH! Knock it off, ya git!" the American yelped.
"Aw c'mon!" Hyde grinned, laughing. "I'm just saying hello!"
"Man, that hurt!" George groaned, rubbing his neck. "Be more careful next time you say hello, you insane psycho!"
Hyde giggled and leaned against the wall with his arms folded across his chest. "So. How's the competition going? Need me to gate crash it for you?"
"That would be hilarious..." George chuckled, leaning against the wall beside him. "But no thanks. We're good."
"Are you good though, George?"
George frowned and turned to face him. "What do you mean by that?" he asked.
"You know what I mean..."
George turned away. "It doesn't need saying..." he sighed. "You know everything that's happened, and you know me too well for me to repeat the facts."
"Life does get better, though, right? It has to."
"Not always. Some people kill themselves because they can't take the pain anymore. Like you've tried to do many times."
Hyde continued to stare at him with his florescent green eyes. "Would you ever try to kill yourself?"
"I don't know..."
"If you do, I will kill myself too."
"Dude, that's fucking deep."
"But it's true," Hyde stepped away from the wall and stood in front of the teen. He moved forward so that he had him pinned against the wall, but he didn't touch him. "If you tried to kill yourself and succeeded, I'd take him and myself with me."
Him again.
George looked up at him and sighed. "Don't worry yourself then," he replied, 'because I won't kill myself. Not yet at least."
Hyde scowled. "Because of him? Or me? Or both of us?"
"Both...Of course."
Hyde grinned and stepped away. "Good," he chirped, then frowned. "Good..."
"Edward, say 'mama'!"
"Mama!"
"Good boy!"
Bess Woodville clapped her hands and twirled her son around in her arms. Edward screeched with joy and pulled at his mother's golden hair so similar to his own.
Lizzie sat at the table, drawing a picture contently to herself. Little Dickon was sleeping upstairs in his crib.
Uncle Anthony smiled when he walked in and sat down next to his niece. "Lizzie, what are you drawing there?" he asked politely. "May I see?"
The girl looked up and slowly nodded after a moment, and Anthony took the picture into his hands.
In the middle of the drawing was a very well drawn building of a hospital to the spitting likeness of Middleham Hospital. Sitting nearby on a bench was a young girl, Lizzie, and an older boy was sat next to her. The likeness to each person was uncanny...
"Why, we have a genius in the family!" Anthony beamed. "You have talent, Lizzie! You could be a very good artist someday!"
He pointed to the boy. "Who is this lad?" he asked. "Edmund? Clarence? Richard?"
Lizzie bit her lip and glanced at her mother, who was now looking at the picture as well.
"It's brilliant, dear," Bess smiled. "Who is the boy?"
"..."
"Lizzie?" Bess frowned.
"...Henry Tudor, Mother."
"Oh." Anthony gasped. He looked at the picture. "I can see that now."
"Lizzie...Why have you drawn Henry Tudor?" Bess was frowning more.
"He is my friend, Mother."
"Since when have you had Lancastrians for friends? Especially the Tudors?"
"Since he helped me find my way around the hospital when Uncle Gloucester's son was born."
Bess sighed. "Anthony, what do you think?"
"Me?" Anthony glanced up at her, then back to Lizzie. "What should I say?"
Lizzie sighed and took the drawing back. "He is my friend, Mother," she repeated again.
"I don't think it's best for the Princess of York to be friends with a Lancastrian heir," Anthony frowned. "It would seem...unseemly."
"You don't like him, do you, Lizzie?" Bess asked.
"He is my friend, of course I like him," the 11 year old replied.
"No, I don't mean it like that- oh, never mind..." Bess sighed.
Lizzie frowned in confusion and glanced over at her baby brother, who was now wriggling to be put down. "I'm going upstairs, Mother," she announced.
"Okay, dear, keep quiet though. Dickon is sleeping."
Lizzie thankfully left the room and heard snippets of her mother and uncle talking.
"She's only 11-" her uncle said.
"She will need to be married off soon, though-" her mother replied.
"To Tudor? Are you serious?" her uncle then retorted.
"I don't know what to do right now, Anthony. Edouard is still in that coma, and should he wake, he would want to have his revenge on Clarence and Ned, and the others who got involved in the attack before the prison fire."
"They still don't know who caused that fire, do they?" Anthony asked.
"No, most likely they never will. Anthony, if any of the Lancasters come after Ned's heirs, tell me that you'll look after Edward. He is Ned's heir - a Prince of Wales, like the current monarchy has Charles - tell me you'll take him into hiding and keep him safe."
"With my life, Bess, if needs be, but what about Dickon?"
"I would send him away myself - to Flanders. My mother has a friend there. AJehan de Werbecque. He would look after him."
"And Lizzie?"
Lizzie cling to the top of the stairway bannister, listening intently.
"She will stay with me. We'd go to Sanctuary Hotel and stay there. We'd bring her sisters with us."
Sisters? What was she on about? Lizzie has no sisters...
"Are they faring well currently? In the countryside?" Anthony asked carefully.
"They are well there. When Ned comes to inherit his birth right, I'll call for them to be brought home."
But that would mean the death of Grandpapa York... And Lizzie did love her Grandpapa York very much.
"You think that Lizzie could help end these wars?" Anthony asked.
"How so?" Bess replied.
"If she married a Lancastrian, it would unite the houses and end these wars."
"So it would if I married one of her sisters to a Lancastrian heir..."
"She is the York heiress, York's princess. It would be popular with the people."
"You suggest I betroth her to Tudor?" Bess laughed.
"Who else? Hal has no son of his own yet. Edouard has no child of his own. He has no brother. Neither does Harry or Tudor. Harry's practically a monk. Edouard's likely dead, and a monster. Who else?"
"...I'll discuss it with Ned..."
Lizzie frowned and headed towards her room, when she decided to see Dickon. Edward was practically a stranger to her, maybe Dickon would be her friend?
She gently approached his crib. The newborn was tiny, but she knew that he would be strong. She could sense a greatness of nobleness in him.
"I hope you can choose your own life, Dickon," she sighed. "I know I can't."
The Gang slept peacefully in their rooms, recharging their batteries. However, Edmund couldn't sleep. He was worried that something terrible would happen when he would go back to England. He could sense it in his gut, his fingertips and his bones...
Richard couldn't sleep either, though everyone else seems to be sleeping well. He was nervous too; what he had heard today had scared him. His father and baby son could have been hurt. The thirst for Lancastrian revenge over Edouard's attack was growing more and more and Clifford's threats towards Edmund were becoming increasing worse by the day. He leaned over and grabbed his iPod, placed the headphones in, and pressed play. Ah... Thank God for acoustic guitars...
Loki was literally shaking with fear. He couldn't get that magic TV picture of himself on that strange device of Ned's out of his mind. Why was he blue, with eyes so red? He had looked just like a Jotun. But he couldn't be a Jotun, he was an Odinson, brother to Thor, he was not a Jotun! They were monsters. The monsters that parents told their children about at night. The very same monsters that he and Thor had feared so much when they were younger. The monsters Thor had once, in his memory, gleefully, eagerly and confidently sworn to destroy when he would be King of Asgard. Loki had grinned at him then, in that throne room, as a boy with an impish smile of certain mischief. He knew then that he would follow his brother to the ends of the Nine Realms themselves; he had loved his brother so much then.
He looked over at Sigyn he lay beside him on the tiny bed as she napped. He stared at her dorm with his green eyes, almost willing her to wake with his mind. Almost. If he was a Jotun, he would kill himself. He wouldn't want her to be affiliated with such a beast, a monster that could only hurt and destroy, not love and nurture. Maybe that would put an end to the constant arguments and tears that he had fought with Odin over her. Would it be any loss to anyone if he did jumped off the Bifrost Bridge? He would spare them all this heartache that he was causing them: the black-sheep of the family. Of Asgard. Of the universe.
"I'll end it all soon, my love," he thought, gazing down at her beautiful form as he lay his head back down on the pillow beside her. He wrapped his arms round her and closed his eyes. "I promise you with sincerity of that, for sure."