Golly, I can't believe how long it's been since I updated this! This chapter is most definitely dedicated to Vivien and all the others in the Gospel Choir, because it was the fact that this bunny kept pestering me every time we sang this song that finally pushed me into writing this...Thank you so much, everyone!

"Elizabeth, please!" Robert whispered, his voice husky with emotion, "You made me Earl of Leicester. I thought...I mean, you promised..."

It was the wrong thing to say. She tossed her coppery head and her sharp black eyes snapped furiously as she wrenched herself away, as though she could feel an imaginary restraint encircling her.

"I promised you nothing, Robert. Nothing! And now that Mary is dead and I am Queen...can you not see that we would never work?"

"No."

The single word hung in the air between them. For one long moment, Elizabeth seemed to hesitate and then, rather than dismiss him, she herself turned away.

Unable to help himself, Robert flung his arm out and caught her by the wrist.

"Liza..."

At the sound of her childhood nickname and the feel of the touch of his hand, she froze. She turned her head to look at him and their dark eyes met, locking for an instant or two.

Something flickered in hers and then she had herself back under control, though she didn't move from his hold. Instead, she merely held herself taut and coolly gazed at him, waiting for him to remember where he was, who he was dealing with.

He didn't. Too caught up in the moment, too caught up in the delight of actually touching her, he didn't.

"We're not in the nursery anymore, Robert."

When I look into your eyes
It's like watching the nightsky
Or a beautiful sunrise
Well, there's so much they hold
And just like them old stars
I see that you've come so far
To be right where you are
How old is your soul?

He sprang away as though he'd been burned. The indifference in her dark eyes cut him to the core.

"Who are you, Elizabeth Tudor?" he whispered, "Who the Hell are you?"

She didn't answer. Or rather she didn't answer that question.

"Go home, Robert," she said softly, her voice suddenly drained, "Go home and marry a girl who can love you the way you deserve."

Before he could even begin to formulate an answer to the finality in her voice, she turned away and strode from the room, shoulders set.

The door swung shut behind her, leaving Robert standing in a room that suddenly seemed to both swallowing him up in its vastness and pressing down on him, amplifying his distress and mental turmoil.

"I'm not leaving it here, Lisabelle," he swore, "I'm not. I'll do your bidding and marry if I must, but I'll do it for love of you. For love of you and for no other reason."

Well, I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up

"The Earl and Countess of Leicester!" The herald's dulcet tones rang out above the crowd's rumbling conversations.

At once, utter silence fell as Robert and Amy stepped over the threshold of the Banqueting Hall and approached Elizabeth where she sat at the high table, her cousins Catherine Knollys and Henry Carey on either side of her. A collective intake of breath rippled through the surrounding courtiers as every eye flicked to Elizabeth and the pair making their deepest obeisances to her. She might have told Lord Leicester to find himself a wife, but at the same time, she was both a Howard and a Tudor. Everyone knew both how capricious and vain she was. Was she really going to accept the new Lady Leicester, now that she was being confronted with having her kneeling before her at Richmond and not buried safely somewhere in the Norfolk countryside?

To everyone's surprise, Elizabeth smiled winningly, relief clear in her eyes,and leaned down from her chair to help Amy to her feet.

"Lady Leicester," she greeted happily, "I can't tell you how pleased I am to meet you at last. I love your dear husband as much as I loved the brother I lost at far too young an age. Let me kiss you and call you sister, as I would have done Edward's wife, had he lived to have one."

Amy flushed and submitted to Elizabeth's embrace.

Elizabeth laughed at her discomfort, "You're a country mouse born and bred, aren't you, Lady Leicester? Never mind. My cousin Cate will look after you. We'll make a courtier of you yet."

"You're too kind, Your Grace," Amy whispered, then took a seat beside Lady Knollys as the copper-headed sovereign waved her to it.

Forgetting Amy as easily as she had showered her with affection, Elizabeth turned to Robert, who still knelt before her.

For a few moments, looking down upon that handsome dark head, she forgot herself.

"So you've come back to me, have you, my gypsy?" she murmured.

Taking that as his cue, Robert sprang to his feet and snatched at her hand, pressing his lips to it far more fervently and for far longer than protocol commanded.

"I have, my Lady Queen. And I have brought my wife to serve as your Lady in Waiting, as you commanded."

The words were formal enough, but the actions were far too passionate for so public a space. Elizabeth winced ever so slightly.

"Indeed you have. I thank you, Lord Leicester. I look forward to getting to know Her Ladyship better."

And when you're needing your space
To do some navigating
I'll be here patiently waiting
To see what you find

Amy cringed inwardly for her husband as the Queen retreated from her playful flirtation to a mask of formality as hard as ice. His love for the Queen was simply far too obvious. Sometimes she wondered if he'd chosen to marry her, out of all the girls he could have had, simply because she was the absolute antithesis of the Queen. Looking at him now, as he visibly flinched at the way the Howard coquette transformed so easily into the Tudor sovereign, she realised he probably had. The realisation sent a knife through her heart, as though someone was trying to sever the strings.
For she loved him. He was dark and dashing and dangerous and everything she'd both always hoped her husband would be and yet not dared to dream she might deserve and she loved him so much she thought she might break apart if he ever took another woman besides her.

Half of her wanted to burst into tears at the sight of his clear infatuation, yet the other half throbbed with rage as Her Majesty waved him off so easily. How dare Her Grace treat her Robert like that? Queen or no, how dare she hurt him so much?

He flung himself down beside her gracelessly and she put a hand over his tentatively.

"It'll get easier, my Lord," she murmured, "You'll get used to it. We both will."

"I thought...he hissed, unable to stop himself. Then he glanced towards her and pulled himself together abruptly, "Never mind what I thought. I'm sure you're right, my love."

His gaiety was forced, his words insincere. But Amy took them gratefully anyway, only too aware that even false words would be more than she could reasonably expect from him now, with the love of his life sitting not three seats away yet ignoring him as though her life depended on it.

And when they fell into bed together later, when he thrust himself inside her with strength so great she was aching for hours, she pretended not to notice that it was Elizabeth's name, rather than hers, that left his lips. She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself betraying her choking sobs and pretended not to notice.

"After all, she told herself, "You're the one with the Dudley ring on your finger. You're the one who's going to birth his heir. No one can take that away from you. No one. Not even the Queen herself."

'Cause even the stars they burn
Some even fall to the earth
We've got a lotto learn
God knows we're worth it
No, I won't give up

I don't wanna be someone who walks away so easily
I'm here to stay and make the difference that I can make
Our differences they do a lot to teach us how to use
The tools and gifts we got, yeah, we got a lot at stake
And in the end, you're still my

friend at least we did intend
For us to work we didn't break, we didn't burn
We had to learn how to bend without the world caving in
I had to learn what I've got, and what I'm not, and who I am

Unbeknownst to Amy, however, the Queen was actually in her corner. As such, she could only take so much of Robert's blatant flattery and attempts to secure her undivided attention before she snapped.

"You have a wife, Robert! For goodness sake, will you pay her some attention for once?!"

"Why? Why should I, when you're still here, as beautiful and as passionate and as wonderful as ever?"

"It's a matter of propriety!"

"Damn propriety!" Robert was on his feet in an instant, anger coursing through his veins, "Propriety can go hang, for all I care!"

"I care!" Elizabeth screamed straight back at him, apoplectic with fury, "My God, Robert, I gave you everything, money, titles, favour, even my love. What more do you want?"

"You know what I want, Elizabeth!" He spat, clenching the table beside which he stood in an attempt to keep himself from vaulting towards her and wrenching her into his arms, "Did all those days at Ashridge, at Hatfield, even the Tower not make that perfectly clear to you?"

"And did I not make it crystal clear to you, Lord Leicester, that I would never marry? Do you not remember me swearing that?"

"You were a child of eight!"

"A child of eight traumatised by the death of her stepmother! And even if I was going to go back on that, even if I was, I couldn't marry you, Robert. You have a wife, you are far too low-born. God, you're of traitor stock for two generations! The country would never have accepted our marriage!"

"I am not my father! Nor my grandfather!"

"And I am not my mother!"

The words fell into a suddenly pregnant silence. The two of them stared at one another, flushed with fury, yet unable to believe things had broken down this far between them. Between the pair that had once been LizaandRobin, who had been the closest confidantes that Ashridge's walls had ever seen. Between the glorious Tudor Queen and her Sir Loyal Heart, her own trusted Gypsy.

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up, I'm still looking up.

Robert spun on his heel. Hand on the doorknob, he paused and looked back at her, committing the way her copper locks curled round her slight, elfin face to memory. The way her onyx eyes were burning with an indescribable mix of emotions. The way her cloth-of-silver and diamond-encrusted was heaving as she struggled to regain control of her breathing.

"You are still my Elizabeth," he said quietly, yet so fiercely it gave her pause. "You are still my Elizabeth and nothing can change that. Not Amy, not any diplomatic marriage Cecil might manage to force you into. No amount of scandal or disgrace or war. Just remember that." He could feel his voice beginning to catch and so cleared his throat forcefully, before going on, willing himself not to break down in tears despite how much he wanted to. "When it starts to feel like the whole world's against you, when that crown of yours starts to get too heavy for you to carry on your own, when the rest of your allies and family turn into snakes and betray you, just remember all those days at Ashridge and Hatfield and all we were to each other. Just remember that I am still your Robin and you are still my Elizabeth."

Well, I won't give up on us (no I'm not giving up)
God knows I'm tough enough (I am tough, I am loved)
We've got a lot to learn (we're alive, we are loved)
God knows we're worth it (and we're worth it)

I won't give up on us
Even if the skies get rough
I'm giving you all my love
I'm still looking up