FRAGMENTS OF A DYNASTY
Summary: the relationship of Elizabeth and Robert Dudley. Pairings: Elizabeth/Robert, mentions of Robert/Amy, Elizabeth/Thomas Seymour, Elizabeth/Philip of Spain, parental Elizabeth/Henry VIII/Anne Boleyn/Kat Astely/ William Cecil. They had met one dull day in the school room. Their surroundings were dull, the weather was dull, and the particular subject had been dull. And yet she shall remember it well because he had been dazzling. He was the striking, young, handsome boy with a cheeky streak and bright intelligence. And yet he shall remember it well because she had been dazzling. She was the beautiful young princess with wit, intelligence, and great skill with a sword. They would banter, laugh, fight, and occasionally dance. It was all wonderfully sweet and only friendship back then when they were children. The King dies. The lords and gentlemen of the Court fight over power as she is shunted aside and he is off to rebel against his father by marrying for love with a sweet girl. The King dies. Lady Jane is locked up for treason and so is he. The days get darker as he watches people being brought into the Tower on various charges of Treason only to be dragged out for execution – his brother, father, and sweet tiny sister in law were amongst the many to have their head cut off. She is brought in. Radiant as ever, her red hair glowing like a halo, her skin pale, her dark eyes dark with fear and sadness. They do not speak to each other but they take great comfort in knowing they are near one another and share so many understanding looks, comforting looks, small sad smiles, and the sighs of relief that they made it through another day whenever they pass one another in the corridors under heavy guard. The Queen dies. Long live the Queen! He is by her side now. Handsome, cheeky, and brilliant as ever and she is the beautiful intelligent Queen that everyone cannot help but admire. They touch now. Innocent little touches, brush of fingers, the occasional hand holding during dances, the slight brush of hand against clothing, and oh! They stand so very close to one another that she could hear his breathing quicken just a little bit and feel the warmth of his solid strong body. She had once sworn to never allow herself feel such desire after Thomas Seymour – it was disgusting, dirty, and shameful. But Robert Dudley! Oh he was the perfect specimen of manhood! He made this passionate urge to kiss and shred clothing to feel nothing but perfection. He scolds himself every night because he has a wife that he loves. Though the love has faded and died as Amy becomes nothing but nuisance who cannot understand that he is needed at Court if she wishes to have living and home of her own. He thinks about his wife but suddenly the blonde turns into a vibrant silky red in his hands, the sweet pale blue turns into desire filled dark brown, and the plain clothe turns into velvet and silk beneath his very fingers. He finds himself masturbating at the thought of the Queen instead of his wife. May God, England, and Bessie forgive him. Bessie...he is the only one who still calls her that and that is only in their most private moments. He sometimes forgets she is Queen. She sometimes forgets she is Queen. There are days she wishes she was nothing more than plain old Bessie Dudley. The wife of Robert Dudley. She thinks of all that love, companionship, the martial bed, and the children they would have. They would be handsome children with both hers and his dark looks. She thinks of names, shamefully so she acts like a love struck maid and thinks of her four children all named by after the people she loves most, Anne and Katherine, William and Robert. They might have more children, she almost giggles at the thought. She loves him so very much. He is the only man she has ever loved so desperately. True she loved her father but her fear of his temper drowned it out. She loved her brother but they grew distant. She never loved Thomas Seymour though she once sort of thought she did. She never loved King Philip of Spain who protected her from her own sister out of lust. She loved William Cecil in a way one would love a father, and while she has many male friends and relatives vying for her favour she does not think of them much. Her heart was solely Robert's. But her soul was England's and England won out in the end. He shall always be her one true love. But like he had been trapped in his marriage with Amy, and then the scandal of her death, she was trapped in her solemn vows to be a good Queen to England. They could never be. They could only hope to have a chance in another life. They kiss – desperately, filled with desire, hurt, love, hate, and passion. His lips are soft and wonderful against hers as he clings to her tightly. He will always be her one true love.
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