In case you don't get it the SGA AU is stemmed off a alternate History I have previously written called "Perks of Being a Monarch" and The More you are reading from comes a different alternate canon in time. It will be explained further in the series = D If you want me to explain some points I gladly will. And guys don't be shy to review!
Utopia:
You wonder why I start this story at its end rather at its beginning. There was something Harry once told me when I first began my tenure as his tutor, that he believed that it's better to start a story at its end. I wondered why that was. After all…you are revealing the ending. I have come to realize, to know what the events will lead to, will make the little details more intriguing.
After all, in order to get to the heart of a tale….you must get back to the beginning.
Run, run
The story starts back at home where I am spriting as fast as my feet could carry me through the woods. Behind me are masked men waiting to attack me. I don't know who they are...agents of Luther? Agents of my enemies. But I do not focus on them, I focus on my survival.
My guess it was adrenaline from the fact that I almost died once again that had kept me on my feet. I am so close to safety. I can see the barrier of Whitehall on my Horizon. And there is a flash. A white bright light blinds my vision and then...nothing...
I thought I was traveling to heaven, but really I was traveling to a world far beyond my own...just as the Hero Raphael had done when he traveled to Utopia.
Major John Sheppard made a deep sigh as he put his bags on the ground. The day was long and winding filled with, aliens, portals that could send a human from galaxy to galaxy in the matter of moments, an ancient gene and a city that rose from the depths of the ocean. He was left weary and tired from today's events.
Part of him still wondered if this all was a manifestation of his imagination. That this Atlantis and the wraith were things he made up to escape the world he was living in. After all just days ago he was a disgraced fighter pilot in Antarctica who did nothing but transport important people from point A to point B and was suddenly the ranking military officer in this advanced ancient city in space. Maybe he was board. But as he knelt the floor and opened one of the bags something snapped him back to reality and told him it was all real and not some odd Alice in Wonderlandesc dream.
It was the first thing that popped out at him, his most prized possession that his passed down in his family from generation to generation. It had been his mother's and it had been bequeathed to him after her death.
It was medium size rare portrait of his Ancestor Sir Thomas More. It was done only a year after the "trauma" as he was supposed to refer to it as (as it was a big family secret). He knew the story...it amazed him that even after what he went through that he still kept the very same determined gaze as he did in the earlier Hans Holbein portrait. It was why he admired him. It was why when his world went to shit he would look at that portrait. It was something he strived to be.
But he knew he never would. The way he felt every time something went wrong even if he was an indirect cause...was a far cry from the brilliant and resilient man that had served under the king.
The way he felt about the death of Colonel Sumner was a prime example. Even as he looked at the portrait as a way to try to calm himself and make him forget...it didn't help not for a moment, John making the final shot that killed Sumner burned in his mind. Everything from that moment from the Colonel's pained scream to the way he looked at him that final time telling him to end it all.
John's thoughts were interrupted when his door opened automatically. The damn city and it being in sync with everything that moved or thought. It told him that he was never going to get private time he so often needed, especially after what he had been through just hours ago. Maybe if he politely told the intruder he needed his space...
"Hello John," He immediately froze. It was the voice that changed everything every time he heard even if he just met her only a mere two weeks ago. Her name was Doctor Elizabeth Weir and she was the one who was foolish enough to put such faith in him, more than the others that had entered his life over the years. But it was that fact and her exotic beauty which included her green eyes, her slightly tan skin, her thin structure, above average height for a woman and her reddish brown hair ...that had drawn him to her. And the feeling he tried to avoid became even stronger each time he saw her.
Something that was dangerous for John Sheppard because of his fragile psyche and tendency to enter bad relationships. But he couldn't resist. It was like she was a bright flame and John was the moth attracted by its beauty and flying towards it.
"Is that Sir Thomas More," She asked immediately gesturing towards the painting in John's hand.
The major made a charming smile and stood up, taking a spot next to her. He put the portrait in between their views so they could each take a glance at it.
Elizabeth ran her fingers over the painting, maybe to test if it was a duplicate or actually authentic. She looked over to him impressed.
"I've only seen duplicates of this certain one," She said nodding her head with a cheeky grin, "the only ones you can see in person is the one done by Holbein in New York and the one of his family in the National portrait gallery in London. They said the owner couldn't part with this one."
John smiled.
"I would never give this baby up for anything," He said, "despite the fact each of Sir Thomas' kids got a different portrait since 1536, they said only one survived through time. I mean they could be stashed in someone's attic, but for now it's special. After all, it's an awesome feeling to know that someone in my lineage made such an incredible mark on history."
"Sir Thomas More is your ancestor?" Elizabeth responded even more impressed than she was before, "I didn't realize you had such a pedigree, I wonder if he has the Gene as well."
John couldn't help but chuckle it was the first time he laughed whole heartedly all day. He couldn't help but the man walking around the city and touching some ancient piece of technology then think of it as witchcraft. The fact she was the cause of him to smile like that, only sunk him deeper into the romantic feelings he had been trying to fight off to no avail all day.
"I'm impressed" especially since you are related to someone I have been fascinated with over the years...I did a report on him in college for my history, class on his lost years...and my doctorate was on Utopia and how it inspired many of our modern political systems today." She paused and looked away slightly blushing, "I didn't know what made me so fascinated by him but I am guessing it was because I was a bit of a romantic and was enamored by his and Katherine of Aragon's love story."
"You don't say?" John said raising an eyebrow. Of course the woman he was slowly but surely beginning to have feelings for would say that. "So why you are you here? Is it just a friendly visit...?"
John walked away and began surveying the room figuring out where to put the portrait. When he was younger the portrait was in the hallway next to his bedroom. He would stare at it for hours. He didn't know what it was, maybe he felt safe looking at it when his mother who supported his endeavors like his dream to fly? Or just that he was just impressed his family had quite a history. But when his bastard father caught him, he thought this was odd behavior and decided to move it into his son's room so he wouldn't look awkward standing by the doorway.
At first it was a good thing. He felt like the spirit of his guardian that was long gone was watching over him, making sure he was safe and protected. But then he married his first wife Nancy. Usually in the past his roommates from college to the air force did not mind having the portrait in their dorm room (as John took the portrait with him wherever he went). But Nancy felt creeped out making love to John while as she put it "a long dead guy with heavy Catholic Morals looked down upon them in scorn." So John had no choice to put it in the hallway once again, even when he was bachelor.
"I thought I would come to check on you," Elizabeth said interrupting John from his thoughts, "I mean I figured you lived a few doors down from me I wanted to see how you were settling in...I mean after your long day..."
It seemed as though she was going to mention Colonel Sumner and his untimely demise by the wraith...but almost as if she sensed it (it seemed that Dr. Weir was the only one who could read him like a book) she didn't mention it.
"I mean it is different," John said, "if I were to write an essay when I was 15 years old about where I would be ten years from now, certainly in a city in another galaxy would be the last place I would think of...though there was a time I did want to be an astronaut."
Elizabeth laughed.
"To be honest I didn't think so either," She said "I thought was going to be running for congress by now. Not being the leader of a space expedition, but hey I am not complaining for a minute."
John walked over by the door that would enter the bedroom and placed the portrait against the wall.
"What do you think?" He mused, "right by my room….so he's guarding me."
"Why don't you put it in your room then?" Elizabeth said walking over, the moment she took a step by the door it opened like magic. Not even hesitating she stepped inside. "I saw the room's John, they have a nice view of the ocean but they could seriously use some decor...AHHHHHHH!"
John let the picture fall to the floor, and didn't even bother to check to see if it was damaged. Hell it was a painting and it could always be restored and by the advanced alien technology they had here in the city. Something was in that god damn room and there was a possibility that it was hurting Elizabeth and he made a vow, for having such faith in him, he was going to protect her no matter what the cost would be. Whipping his gun from his thigh holster he clutched it tightly and made his way into his bedroom.
"Is everything okay," He said looking around the room, quickly he spotted the source of her Elizabeth
There was a man, no older than forty five lying face first on the ground. He was wearing dark, what looked like renaissance clothing. It was strange...he thought the ancient's clothing would be at least like that he saw in the movies. But he didn't dwell on it; John slowly put the gun in his pocket and knelt down onto the floor.
"I thought you said there was no one in this god damn city!" He said shocked.
"I swear there wasn't supposed to be anyone over here!" Elizabeth said her hands were folded over her mouth. She didn't know whether to be shocked or excited that there was a strong possibility that there was an ancient here. Maybe he could help them in their fight against the wraith. Well, that is if he was still alive! But it left the mystery on why his body didn't deteriorate after years of being deceased.
John reached over and checked his pulse as it was protocol. It was surprisingly strong.
"He's still alive," John said beginning to gently turn the body onto its back. As soon as he finished he began to gently shake the unconscious man. "Sir wake up."
The man took a sharp breath as his eyes slowly fluttered open. He groaned and sat up abruptly. Once John got a look at his face, he jumped back, rising to his in shock.
It was too much...no...exactly like the portrait that was lying on the floor of his room.
"No fucking way," He said blinking.
"Didn't Teyla say the wraith make you see things," Elizabeth said. She slowly eased her way next to John and squeezed his arm for comfort. Okay, at least he wasn't crazy...she was seeing exactly what he was seeing.
"Yeah but she didn't say anything about feeling things as well," John said keeping the grip on his gun. "I felt his god damn pulse."
"For the love of all things holy," The man on the floor said again, "does your heresy lack respect for god that you must speak his name in vain...look I am not going to argue." He paused rubbing his eyes before raising his eyes to meet what he thought was his abductors, "but if you don't let me go and the king finds me in your clutches the King is going to have your-"
And the moment he met John's eyes, his mouth suddenly gaped open.
The moment my eyes had met John's my panic ceased. Even though I was somewhere I was very unfamiliar with, a stranger in a strange land this place began to seem like home to me. I already knew he was going to be a significant part of my journey. Everything about him had some familiarity and in that moment I was drawn to him. Not in a way two lovers would, but in a way a father would love his child. It was instant and unconditional.
"I don't you what is," The man had said to John causing him to blink ever so slightly. "but there is something about you...that's...I know...you so much like me when I was younger."
The Major turned his head to Elizabeth before turning it back to the man on the floor.
"Sir you mind telling me who you are," John said remaining as stern as he possibly could, "and how you got here? Were you one of the people lived here?"
"Lived here?" The man replied as he looked around the room, "when I served the king he didn't have rooms like this." His hand slowly ran over the floor. "Is this silver?"
The evidence was piling up. It seemed crazy to even think this man was actually WHO he thought he was, but the fact he said that he served the king caused him to shake his head violently.
"Sir," John said biting his lip. "Could you please tell me who you are?"
"Who am I?" The man responded, "for people who are supposed to be my captors, you are quite dim minded...I'm Sir Thomas More, formally your Lord Chancellor."
Elizabeth stepped away from John and raised an eyebrow.
"I'm calling Carson," She said.
"Yeah," John said, "I think that's a good idea."
Before they took me to this Carson fellow, they had me change at the time were these odd clothes. Back in my time were wore fancy clothes with linen undergarments and tight pants. To be quite honest the moment the moment I put these set of clothing on, which was John's black t-shirt and sweatpants I felt comfortable. It was loose unrestrictive. I found it to be one of my favorite things about this "new life". Well that and a lot of other things...but you'll see that as the story progresses.
"I am sorry Lad it's going to be a little tight," The Doctor, the two strangers called Carson said as he finished tying off this weird material they obviously not had back in his time around Thomas' arm. It felt rough on his skin and he cut off his circulation. In fact he felt as though his arm was beginning to go numb from the lack of blood flow. But that was the least of his concerns. Thomas was trying to figure out where he was, why half the people's accents were odd and what kind of bloody witchcraft was making these items work without any sort of crank. Whoever these captors were, there were from a country far more advance than theirs. In fact it would make Harry scoff in envy.
But what intrigued him was that the good doctor had a thick Scottish accent. Usually physicians came over board.
"Ah I see you are from Scotland." Thomas said with a grin, "How is the Queen Dowager the Princess Margaret."
"Son she's dead," Carson said, "she's been dead for hundreds of years."
"What, preposterous!" Thomas responded, he turned his head to John, who was gesturing Carson to stop, the boy he just met, who bared the same name as his Son was the only one he had felt comfortable with at that moment. Even if he was one of his abductors the familiarity this boy had hell the fact he looked like him, made him feel safe. "Tell him he's mad...tell him this the year 153- OW." The physician had pricked his arm without warning him. "Have you no ounce of respect? You could have warned me!"
"Sorry," Carson said, "the major said you were very sensitive to pain."
Thomas' eyes widened. Not because his blood was spilling into a vial in what was possibly some vile ritual these heretics performed. The boy...John seemed to know him so well. Did he do his research so he could can someone use it to break him?
"How do you know so much about me," Thomas said narrowing his eyes.
John was quiet for moment but when Carson pulled the needle out of his arm causing him to hiss; he slowly pulled up a chair and took a spot next to his side.
"It should take a few moments to get the results Major," He said.
John nodded his head as he folded his hands onto his lap. He looked at Thomas sternly for a moment before looking down to the ground at his shoes.
"I don't know how to say this," John said before lifting his head to looking at him, "but if you are who you say you are-"
"But I am!" Thomas interrupted appalled. What did John mean if "he wasn't who he says he was"? He had to have known it was him! How could he have any doubts?
"Would you let me finish," John said again, Thomas sat up a little. He might as well give the boy some room to talk, after all it wasn't like he wasn't like Master Kingston who locked him a cell and hoped for the best. He gave him clothes and took an interest in him. "You are not in the year 1535...in fact you are half a millennium away...I'm...I'm your 12th great grandson."
I remember hearing those words and everything in me froze. I wondered how could this be possible as I closed my eyes and prayed to the grace of god I would wake in bed with Katherine the woman who was soon to be my bride after years of praying and hoping she would be my beloved. The moment my eyes opened I was still there. But at the same time the cold hard realization hit me like a stunner. One of the many discussions was how the world would be hundreds of years from now. We did believe that one day would have to physically waste our energy to get an object to work; it would do it for us. And as I looked around me it proved our theory to be right.
There was another fact that frightened me at the time. My friends, like Harry and Erasmus, I was so excited to be released from the Tower because I could reconnect to them and catch up on lost time. My children and my grandchildren I would never know what would happen and never see them continue to grow and thrive, especially my youngest also named John. I have yet to see him get married and have beautiful children of his own to continue on the legacy I have behind. And Katherine….she sacrificed everything, her reputation just so she could save me the man she loved from the tower. We only had one night….one beautiful night together before this all happened and now I am forever left wondering what could have been between them. But they were all dead.
But as much as I was saddened by these events, I knew there was John Sheppard. I had a funny feeling that he could somehow be related to me. After all he had my dark hair, kind eyes and broad shoulders and the fact I felt so connected to the young man immediately! I thought if I could never go home again….I could at least become close with the only thing I had left from my bloodline. I had made a vow that I would dedicate all my love to him that I would never give my children again.
"You mean to tell me all my friends and family..." Thomas said sullenly, "are dead?"
"Yeah," John said running his hand slowly through hair.
Carson cleared his throat; both men turned their heads to face him.
"The tests are inconclusive," Carson said with a shocked gaze on his face. "He shares some of your DNA. The same amount a man would share with his ancestor past 12 generations...should I call Rodney? Maybe he could figure out how he got here and maybe if came through the gate we could get him back through there?"
"Nah" John said shaking his head, "we all had a long day and I think he did too... we all need to rest" John said turning his head slightly over to Thomas. "You mind if we find some quarters for you to sleep or do you."
"Well if you have a spare bed pallet in your quarters," Thomas responded, "I would like to stay with you...that is if you don't mind...I would like to get to know my descendant."
John nodded his head.
"Does he need a check up or anything Doc?" He asked Carson.
"We could always give him a check up in the morning." The Scotsman responded with a smile.
"Well then Gramps," John said with a smile, "follow me."
"You don't mind if I unpack while we chat," John said as he pulled his bag into the room, "I only got here a day ago."
Thomas sat on the bed. It was rather small, just like the one he slept in at the tower of London. But the sheets were much more comfortable beneath his fingertips. He looked around the room. It was completely empty as if no one ever inhabited there. The only thing decorative was the view of the ocean out the small ornate little window.
"Not at all, how often does your king hold court here?" Thomas asked raising an eyebrow, "or was this palace just built and are you just inhabiting it for the first time?"
He never been inside a freshly erected palace other than that at the field cloth of gold, which was only made of makeshift fabric and torn down once the summit was over. But his father had. Before their relationship had deteriorated due to the death of his mother, he had told about how it exciting it was the room smelt fresh like spring morning. But the smell of the ocean that filled his nostrils was something he had to get used to.
His thoughts were interrupted by John's slight chuckle. He looked up and the young man was rummaging through his bag.
"Believe it or not this Palace as you call it is pretty old," John said, "thousands of years old in fact. It's hard to believe because you see these kinda things in science fiction movie."
"Science fiction?" Thomas said raising an eyebrow. "Science is literary scholarly work and truth not fiction."
"It is literary Gramps," John responded as he put some clothes on what looked like a funky looking dresser. "It's just fiction based on scientific elements like new technology and what not."
Thomas hummed in intrigue. It seemed the interest of human beings changed with time. He wondered what left of his new world still remained. Did they still joust? Did they still have a king or lived in a free republic? What new worlds have they found? Did they still practice Roman Catholicism? Judaism? Islam? Or were they all heretics now? He didn't know. But he wanted to know.
"Do you like this Science Fiction?" Thomas asked again.
John chuckled as he opened the drawer and placed each of his clothing inside. Thomas noticed it was a lot like his…dark and black. Just like him John Sheppard was a man of simple tastes there like he was.
He wondered what interests did John inherit from him. Of course because science fiction did not exist in his world it was not one of them. But he wondered if he had a love of writing and reading like he did.
"Of course I do," John said walking over to his bag once again. He pulled out a rolled up portrait of this man...god man who had done it was brilliant. It was almost life like. John jumped on the bed behind him and hung the portrait against the wall before he jumped down in front of him in surprising grace. "Han Solo from this movie Star Wars, one of my favorite fictional pilots of all."
"I am sorry for all the questions," Thomas said as John took a chair and sat on it oddly. Instead of sitting with him resting against the back rest, the chair was facing backwards. He leaned his torso against the spine of the chair rather than his back. His legs were straddled as if he was riding a horse. And his arms rest on the top of the chair. "I mean it's not every day you come to this city amongst the stars and you come face to face with your 12th great grandson. Like all my family John, I would like to get to know you."
"Hey gramps," John said with a bright smile, "it's fine, along with your sarcasm and handsome looks, I also inherited your patience."
John as I would come to learn was a very troubled young man. While to the rest of the world he was this happy go lucky man who everyone wanted to be, women wanted to bed and even his enemies seemed to envy his heroism and his handsome good looks. But beneath the charm and the good looks, was a man who doubted himself. Who like me didn't believe he deserved what was rewarded to him like love and titles. And who like me when everything went wrong did not blame the outside mitigating factors...only blamed himself.
He only bared this side of him to his eventual beloved Dr. Elizabeth Weir, the leader who I believed would have better skills of being a monarch than most of the Kings I read about in history. Only the two of us can tell when John Sheppard's smile was being forced or when it formed on its own. But when he smiled, he truly smiled h would send a warm feeling down my spine...for smile was something he shared with me. It made me think of me when I was young and so ambitious.
"So do your friends around this...palace..." Thomas aid tilting his head inquisitively.
"Actually it's a city believe it or not." The Major said casually tapping his hands on the table, "much bigger than...what was the biggest city in your time...Florence? Rome? Believe me I would compare it to one of the many cities from the Country where I am from. But...I will teach you about them eventually but one thing at a time...I haven't even gotten to the part where carriages are no longer driven by horses, and we can actually travel by air."
Thomas crossed himself. By god, he had envisioned the world would have much more advanced than the items Leonardo Da Vinci had created from his mad mind, but carriages that moved with ought the need o horses? And people could actually FLY by the air? Was this because god granted them with a secret pair of wings?
"So you are telling me you can actually fly?" He said, "fascinating. Do you have wings or you just...leap?"
It was silent for a moment between them and then John let out a long lengthy and hearty chuckle it was much sincere than his small little bouts Thomas had heard before. At one point he rested his head in his arms before lifting. his head to face him again.
"Have I said something amusing?" Thomas said tilting his head.
"Yeah," John said between his chuckles that were dying down, "the fact you thought humans in the future actually fly is somewhat adorable...but...as a pilot I wish I had wings...to be able to feel the wind in my hair, to feel the air beneath my fingertips...is a dream...but when I fly a plane...a plane by the way is basically a carriage you could fly through the air..." Thomas nodded his head at that. He was the type to absorb information quickly even it seemed rather absurd. "I feel safe, like I belong there, like I am home."
Thomas was quiet as he watched John explain his love for flying an instrument called plane. The way he explained it told him he had something he was passionate about.
"The way you feel about flying these planes," He said, "is exactly how I feel about writing. You definitely are my descendant."
John smirked and looked down to his shows before looking back up.
"I think it's too much of an honor to even compare me to you after all..." He said before pausing turning back to look at the portrait on the wall. It was strange to Thomas. He knew it was him he could tell by his eyes and his determined smirk...but the man in the portrait was much older. Yet the man in the portrait looked a bit weary and worn as if he suffered such trials and tribulations that were unspeakable. He could tell by the slight scar on his forehead that not even the bangs covered did justice to cover it.
Yes Thomas was in the tower, but he wasn't tortured, beaten by his jailors. The worst he seen was monks being burned and a friend beheaded from his window. But nothing that made him look that...worn down. Hell he didn't even have time to sit down after he was released from a portrait like that. Maybe it told him about his future, maybe he will that scar from here during one his future adventures...in a story he could tell his children and grandchildren. Maybe it was him...from an alternate version of his lifetime but it still...seemed very puzzling to him as did this whole world. he would figure out the answer one day but for now he would have to stay in the present.
"I am not as incredible as you," John finally said biting his lip.
Thomas reached forward and touched the younger man's shoulder as a sign of comfort. He could tell in his eyes, he didn't have the luxury of having the one person who told him he could do incredible things. It almost made Thomas think of his life before he went into the Apprenticeship of Archbishop Morton. His father made him believe that was just going to spend the rest of his life ruining everything he touched over and over again. But when the old and kind Archbishop said he was going to do incredible things...well maybe not land in a galaxy far from his own...but it gave Thomas a reason to live...a reason to thrive.
Though it seemed John achieved most of the dreams he had sought for he did not have his own Archbishop Morton to tell him he could be incredible. And even when he did achieve those dreams he didn't even cherish them as well as he hoped for. Maybe Thomas had to be not only John's father figure but be his Archbishop Morton as well.
"Something you also inherited from me," Thomas said squeezing the other man's shoulder gently, "yes I admit with the harm I've done I do not deserve the luxuries I have received from the king...but I am sure John, if you can fly...horseless carriage in the sky you are incredible."
"You sound like Elizabeth," John said with a smirk, "you are putting faith in someone who doesn't even deserve it."
"But I am not...Elizabeth...I am your family," Thomas said, "I may have had raised you but you are my child now as my blood runs through your veins and I will not let you feel the way you do...never again."
"I guess I am going to have to get used to having a father in this city now," He said chuckling, "and being in a city in space wasn't weird enough….I do have one question though…..before you came here….were you….imprisoned at all?"
Thomas tilted his head in confusion. It was indeed an odd question, but then again there were probably a lot of things he wanted to know….and there were some things….whether it be something that could damage his reputation or was too painful to even describe he could not keep in any of his journals. The horrible abuses he suffered at the hands of his father were one such example. But it was understandable….had the tables been turned and his ancestor had been sitting in front of him, Thomas would have a lot of questions as well.
"I thought it would be in your history books in the future," He finally responded, it was a subject he vowed to avoid if he did make it out alive…but just like he finally admitted to Bishop Fisher, may god rest his poor soul, in confession about what his father did to him, he would have to touch on the subject eventually, "but I was one of the people who was imprisoned in the tower for refusing to sign the Oath of Supremacy. But I was released due to a deal between the King and Queen Katherine. It was how I stumbled upon this place accidently; I was most likely being chased by heretics who were rather angered that I, their ultimate enemy, was not punished for my crimes against their people by being executed by the King, escaped. Did you not know of this?"
"I did," John said but he could tell by the subtle shocked look on his face and the tone of his voice, the little subtle things that Thomas often noticed when reading another human being, that he was lying. This little "sense" as he called it made him an affective lawyer, "I was making sure…..since it seems you are going to be here….uhh permanently. That you coming here did nothing that affected history dramatically. A lot of sci fi movies have that. There's this theory that if you go back to the past and kill a fly you can cause catastrophic consequences, I don't want that happening here."
Thomas would take that answer for now, but there was something he was not telling him. He opened his mouth to speak, when suddenly he heard a voice, it was not John's for it was a female voice. It was soft but distorted but it caused John to sit up and tap his ear very gently a gesture that looked very strange to Thomas but it must have been one of the weird new technological advances this world had had.
"Yeah Dr. Weir," John said causing Thomas to tilt his head in fascination. So their technology also extended to the point where people can communicate to others without being in the same room...interesting. But he sat quiet and just watched. "Okay mother," He said seeing a much different smile form on his lips. It was the same smile Thomas often bared when he thought of Katherine. "Alright, alright, I'll go to bed…I'll see you tomorrow at breakfast?" John's smile became wider, "See you tomorrow."
Thomas couldn't help but smirk about how happy John looked talking to Elizabeth, though he still was trying to comprehend how he managed to talk to Elizabeth without her standing there in the room. It was obvious he liked her or at least thought she was beautiful like Thomas thought when he set his eyes upon his beloved Katherine years ago.
"That was the boss," John finally said, "as thrilled as I am to be talking to the man I looked up to over the years she just ordered us to go to bed…..obviously since this is my first night here…..I would like to sleep in my own bed….there's a couch out there you can sleep on for the time being."
Thomas nodded his head and stood up; he slowly made his way towards the door. He stopped and turned his head towards his descendant. He was slowly taking off his shirt and his pants.
"I have one question," Thomas said.
John hummed as he walked over to the drawer and pulled out a clean t-shirt.
"You and the lady Elizabeth," He said….
"Go to bed Gramps…." John responded with a chuckle.
"Good night," Thomas said with a sincere smile, "and as I say to all my children, may god keep you through the night and always…."
And with that Thomas disappeared into the next room.
I did not sleep that night. It always happened to me when I settled into some place new. When I was first in court I spent the night staring blankly at the ceiling. I was trying to get used to the sounds the life and the hustle and bustle at court. It tended to have a lot of noise at night. Sometimes you would hear the sound of the guards boot steps walking on the stone floor of the castle. Other times you would hear the sounds of lovers giggling; sometimes even making love with each other.
Just there was too much noise.
I spent the night staring into space my first night there. Some hours I started to plan my next novel or my next work of art. Others I would think about my family and my children, or talk to god.
When I spent my first night in the tower that changed. The room was cold. There was barely any light and even with the light that came through the window it brought dark shadows on the stone walls. They were dark and they were terrifying. Not to mention the sounds of the prisoners. Sometimes they were crying. Other times you would hear the sounds of the torture devices working through the night. Followed by the sounds of the pained screams of the victims. The night of my arrival someone a woman, was to be executed that next morning. All night I heard the sounds of her screams and her wails begging god to spare her.
I couldn't stand it. Mostly because I wondered if that would be me the night before mine. After all it seemed very inevitable that I was to be executed by the King's hand because there was no way in heaven or n hell that I was signing that oath. I was a man who faced everything stoically without an ounce of fear. But when it came to death and pain I feared it because I dealt with so much of it in excess as a child and since I hadn't felt such agony in years...I thought it would be worse than it was before
But god's miracle I was able to survive. But instead of celebrating my freedom and my second chance at life by enjoying what was to come, more years with my children and my grandchildren and growing old with Katherine after years of dreaming and wondering what life with her would be like...I would finally experience it...I was facing a new uncertainty.
I was now in a world far from my own. Where technology was far more advanced than I could possibly dreamed. Where values and thoughts and dreams must be vastly different from my time. Where everyone I knew and I loved ever so dearly was dead. I doubted...no I was certain that I was never going home. That I was going to die in a city far beyond the stars Harry and I would gaze at for hours on the roof of the palace. Where my name Sir Thomas More was just a name in the history books.
How was I going to survive? How was I going to cope with the fact that I would NEVER see my beloved children again? And how in god's name would I guess to such outrageous advances this world had to offer like flying carriages with no need for horses or simple machinery that could faster than the speed of light could detect if someone is related to you just by the tiniest prick of blood.
All these thoughts kept me wide awake. I tried to close my eyes and revel the sound of the ocean that roared outside my windows. It something you rarely heard unless you traveled overseas, which I had done when I traveled as Harry's emissary. But that didn't calm me. So I opened...no actually reached for it before it impressively opened on its own, and let the ocean air in. The salty air of the sea calmed me slightly but it wasn't enough.
I turned my head to John's room and then I remembered...all those times I found myself in someplace new, like Harry's court, a bed in France or a pallet made of straw in the tower...as these things had one thing he had in common...I had to deal with them alone. But here it was different. I had someone to help me through it. John was my 12th Great Grandson, only a fragment of a memory of my children, probably my Elizabeth because of his vast sarcasm and sense of humor.
But despite being so far in time and in generations he was the only thing I had left to family. So I tipped toed into his room. It was a ritual I would so often do with my own children when they were younger. I would sneak into their room and watch them sleep. It was somewhat calming to know that when they were sleeping nothing in this sometimes very cruel world bother them.
It would give me a moment to see how they grown throughout the years and make me wonder what god had in store for them.
When I made my way inside I pulled the chair John was sitting on just hours ago during our brief conversation. I made sure it did not make a single scratching sound that would wake him from his slumber. It was successful. John had not stirred.
Settling down in the chair which was the only thing I seemed to be used to because it was alot like the ornate chairs from home. From this position he looked very comfortable there was not a single once of emotion on his face telling me despite the fact he was starting a new journey like I was, he was at peace with it. He lied on his side, his thick dark hair messier than it was before.
I couldn't help. But run my hand through it. It was soft and full just like mine and just like my son's, along its color was a signature trait of a More child. John took a sharp breath and turned over. His unique hazel eyes giving me a look as he raised an eyebrow.
"You're watching me sleep now," He yawned before falling back into his postion, "you're lucky you're related to me or you wouldn't be able to get away with this without me thinking you were somewhat creepy."
I couldn't help but smirk at that. Another trait of mine he had inherited, having a snarky comment for everything.
"Don't stay here all night," He yawned again, "you plenty of rest for..." another yawn, "people showing you around."
It wasn't long until he was deep in slumber once again. I remained looking down at him again. It was then I made my vow, a promise. I may never go home again. I may be in a place that was far from what I dreamed of when I dreamed of Utopia. But I had a purpose here. This place seemed to be dangerous. I would be fighting to keep my beliefs my morals and my sanity. But as long as my faith and my integrity my two most important intangible values, remained intact and every night John, my family remained safe hopefully, happy in this bed then I would live through this.
Looking ahead to where I transformed to a man I feared, if only I fought harder to keep my vows.