AN: Set the night before Elizabeth's coronation in January 1559. Eleanor Boleyn soothes her niece's fears.
I remember tears streaming down your face
When I said, I'll never let you go
When all those shadows almost killed your lightI remember you said, Don't leave me here alone
But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight
"I wish you could be here, Anne. I wish you could see your daughter crowned Queen."
The words slipped from my lips before I could stop them. I was sitting in my luxurious rooms in the Tower, gazing out of the window at the very same green upon which my sister had had her head struck from her shoulders.
I could hardly keep the memories from overwhelming me; so strongly were they pressing in upon me.
Anne, wonderfully, exotically beautiful and beloved of the King of England.
Anne, starting the boat race and yelling for the Howards.
Anne, whirling me around in delight when we'd found out King Henry was planning to take her to France as his future bride.
Anne, marrying King Henry in the dead of night, with only myself, George, Henry Norris and Thomas Heanage for witnesses.
Anne, sitting in these rooms with my daughter Margaret on her lap before she went out to be crowned Queen of England.
Anne, slumping in my arms after she had failed to provide the King with the son she had promised him.
Anne, slumping in my arms as I forced her to take a sleeping potion to calm her after her arrest.
Anne, locking eyes with me as I knelt before her even as she was on the scaffold.
Anne, collapsing to the ground in a great spurt of scarlet as her slender swan-like neck was cleaved in two.
Tears began to mist my eyes over and I dragged my eyes away from the window. I couldn't afford to think like this. Not tonight. Tonight, of all nights, I needed to keep a cool head. After all, it wasn't every night your niece, the King's former Princess; his younger bastardised daughter, was on the verge of becoming an anointed Queen Regnant.
No. I couldn't afford to let the memories break me tonight. Elizabeth would need me. Elizabeth, who in an almost magical reversal of her mother's story, had risen from being a distrusted prisoner of her own sister to England's beloved Queen Gloriana. The memories would be just as strong, if not stronger, for her and she was younger; less sure of herself. She didn't have a Henry at her side to keep her strong. She would most definitely need me tonight.
Sure enough, I had barely taken a deep breath and steadied myself before my daughter Margaret, one of Elizabeth's favourite ladies, looked in.
"She's asking for you, Mama."
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
Elizabeth turned anguished eyes on me the moment I stepped into her rooms. Without her needing to say anything, I raised a hand and dismissed her other ladies. Mistress Ashley hesitated, her inability to help her charge clearly distressing her, but when Margaret curtsied and withdrew as well, she followed suit. If even my daughter was leaving, then we obviously really needed to be alone.
As soon as the door swung shut behind her, I pulled Elizabeth into my arms, stroking her rich copper curls as I had done a thousand times before.
"Oh, Lisabelle. Sweet, sweet Lisabelle."
"Aunt Eleanor!" She cried, burying her face in my shoulder.
"I know, I know," I murmured, "I know, Lisabelle. But it's all right. It's all right. I'm here. I'm not going to let anyone hurt you. I'm not. And anyway, you're Queen, Lisabelle. You're Queen. To hurt you is treason, especially now, on the night before your coronation. No one's going to try it. I promise you. I promise."
"No one's called me Lisabelle since I left your house," Elizabeth sniffed. "I've missed it."
I smiled, releasing her gently as she pulled away from my hold to pace to the window. I waited silently, knowing she had more to say, but not wanting to push her.
"My mother went from being Queen of England to a prisoner here. I go from a Prisoner to England's first Protestant Queen Regnant."
There was nothing I could do but nod. As if she sensed it, Elizabeth whirled round and came to me in two strides, gripping the tops of my arms in a vice-like grip.
"Would they be proud of me, Aunt Eleanor? Papa, who gave everything – everything – to have a son, would he be proud of me? Would he see me as his own, as his best girl Bessie, as the Tudor lioness I've always tried to be? Or would he still think I've failed him because I'm not a boy? Because I'm a Queen and not a King? And Mama? I cost her Papa's love, I cost her the crown, I cost her her life! How could she look down from Heaven and be proud of me, given what I cost her? And you! You brought me up and loved me as your own, yet I cost you everything. You were the King's beloved sister-in-law, the Queen's favourite sister, the second most powerful woman in England. I cost you that. I cost you it all. Yet you still stand there and tell me you're proud of me. How can you? How can you? If I had been a boy, how different things would have been! Oh that I had been a boy! Oh that I had been a boy!"
Don't you dare look out your window darling
Everything's on fire
The war outside our door keeps raging on
Hold onto this lullaby
Even when the music's gone
Just close your eyes
The sun is going down
You'll be alright
No one can hurt you now
Come morning light
You and I'll be safe and sound
In the face of Elizabeth's desperation, there was only one thing that I could think to do. I wrenched myself away from her and flung open the door.
"Margaret. The book. Now!"
My daughter looked up. Our eyes met. She nodded and was gone within the instant.
A few minutes later, she raced back into the room and thrust it into my hands.
"Thank you, sweetheart."
I turned back to my niece and shut the door again.
"Elizabeth. Elizabeth Eleanor Tudor. You cannot think like this! Do you hear me? You cannot think like this! Of course we're proud of you. I love you like a daughter. There's nothing you could do that would stop me being proud of you tonight. And your father. He loved you too. He may not have shown it much, but he did. I know he did. Of course he'd be proud of you. And as for your mother, your mother loved you! She loved you more than her own life and she would have done anything to see you mount your rightful throne. Anything."
"How do you know? She's been dead over twenty years. How can you know what she'd have done any more?
"She was my sister, remember? I was with her through it all. I was with her from the very first day she came home from France to the very last of her life. I know what she was like. I know what she'd have done for you and I can tell you she would have done anything. Anything at all."
Stepping forward, I placed the book into Elizabeth's hands. She glanced down at it, then back up at me, questions only too clear in her dark brown eyes. Her dark brown eyes that were the image of my sister's.
"I wrote it for you, Elizabeth. I wrote it for you years ago, when we were still at Alnwick. I wrote it for you just after your mother had died, "I explained.
"What is it?"
"It's your mother's story. The story of how she came back to England. How she enraptured your father, the King and married. And most of all, it's the story of how much she loved him. How much she loved you and how much she was willing to go through for the sake of that love. I've kept it all these years, meaning to give it to you when the time was right. Well, now the time is right. You're a young woman now. You're a young woman and you're about to become an anointed Queen in your own right. It's time you knew who you really were, Elizabeth. It's time you realised that you aren't just a Tudor. You aren't just a Tudor Rose. You're a Boleyn too. You're a Boleyn Falcon just as much as you are a Tudor Rose. I want you to know that. I want you to know that and to know that as long as you stay true to yourself, you're staying true to the Boleyns as well. By staying true to yourself, you're staying true to your mother's memory and that's what would make her proud of you. To know you're loyal to her, to our family, would make her proud."
Reaching up, I undid the necklace I was wearing. It was a locket, a locket containing a tiny braid of hair. A braid Anne had had made in the first weeks after Elizabeth's birth. It wove my hair with Anne's, with Mary's, George's, Margaret's and Elizabeth's. It wove our family, past, present and future together. I slipped it around Elizabeth's neck and kissed her tenderly on the forehead, the way Anne had always done with me.
"This was hers, Lisabelle. She'd want you to have it. I've kept it safe for you, but she'd want you to have it now. Will you wear it and treasure her memory? Always? For my sake?"
"Always", Elizabeth promised, returning my kisses warmly.
Just close your eyes
You'll be alright
Come morning light,
You and I'll be safe and sound...
I curtsied deeply, sweeping to the floor now for my niece as I had always done for my sister when we found ourselves together in public. I rose and was about to leave the room, when Elizabeth suddenly stopped me.
"Stay with me. See me into bed. Please?"
"Of course," I nodded.
Slowly, I helped her out of her long heavy gown of scarlet velvet and laced her into her night robe of cream velvet-lined linen, swept a silver-backed brush through her hair until it blazed like fire and then went to turn down the covers of her bed. She climbed in between the sheets and I drew them up around her as though she were still a little girl.
"Goodnight, Aunt Eleanor."
"Goodnight, Your Majesty."
Worn out with the emotion of the day, Elizabeth was asleep within minutes. As soon as I heard her breathing even out, I dropped the sewing I'd been doing by the fireside and went over to the bed. Elizabeth was lying peacefully, her creamy skin smooth and unlined by cares. Her hand had crept up to her throat so that her fingers had curled around the locket.
Smiling, I stooped to kiss her as she slept, "Sweet dreams, Lisabelle. God be with you, tomorrow and for always."
Then I slipped from the room to prepare myself for bed and for my niece's impending coronation.
Oooooo,
OoooOooo,
Oooooo,
OoooOooo,
Oooooo,
OoooOooo,
Oooooo,
OoooOooo,
Oooooo,
OoooOooo,
Oooooo,
OoooOooo...