-𝑂𝑛𝑙𝑦 𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑖𝑡 𝑎𝑙𝑙-
It's the year 1466 and King Edward IV is on the throne of England. His wife and Queen ,Elizabeth Woodville, has just given birth to her first daughter ,Lizzie, but not all is w...
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Light, dark, light, dark, light, dark again...
Marian's unconscious minds swirled round and round and round, images flying here and there, memories mingled with fantasy and she was dragged into a world of delirium...
Light again... A young Marian watched on as Margaret of Anjou knelt weeping in a pool of blood that flowed like a river around her, splashing onto her face...the woman looked up at her daughter and the little girl realised that her mother too was young again...had the bloom of youth once more, dark hair flowing down her back without one streak of grey...
Marian tossed to the side, letting out a small whimper.
"Ma mére..." the child breathed, reaching out a small hand and stumbling towards her mother and the pool of blood, collapsing beside her as Margaret brought her hands up to her face.
"Mon fils, mon doux fils doux. Mon Henry, mon doux Seigneur" - My son, my sweet sweet son, my Henry, my sweet Lord - she was whispering in her native French repeating the words over and over as she clutched the sides of her head until the sentence finally changed and her hands dropped away from her face, revealing a now ageing woman...the woman in the tower "Mon Marian, mon doux traître... ma fille, notre ruine" - My Marian, my sweet traitor...my daughter, our ruin.
Marian tossed again, body shaking.
Suddenly, Marian and Margaret were back in the tower...Marian had aged just as Margaret had done; was now a young woman. "No, ma mére!" She cried as Margaret held her dagger to her neck...it was happening...it was happening again...but it was different... "We would have won Barnet, we would have won the war if you had not turned against us! If it weren't for your treason you would still be a Princess; your brother and father would still be alive..." the old Queen screeched as she had done on that May afternoon.
"You blame me for their deaths?!" Marian heard herself yell back. "Of course I do! For it is your fault!" The door to the cell banged open and Marian turned her head, expecting to see Richard, hoping he had come to save her as he had done before but it was not Richard standing in the doorway...It was Warwick and George, Duke of Clarence. Margaret suddenly changed again...she was still pressing a knife to Marian's throat but no longer looked like a worn prisoner. She looked like a Queen once more, dressed in robes of crimson with a heavy ruby pendant adorning her neck and a glint in her eye which spoke of triumph and prosperity "Now you shall pay for your crimes, ma chérie...Tu es mort pour moi" - you are dead to me - Margaret hissed in her daughter's ear before throwing her to Warwick and George who grabbed her roughly and began to drag her down the halls of the tower.
Despite her struggling, the two men had dragged Marian out onto the green with next to no effort and then dragged her up the steps of the scaffold that had appeared, flinging her down onto the hard wood. She gasped for air, trying to raise herself up again but found her body did not have the strength. A pair of hands suddenly gripped her hair, yanking and pulling her head up. .
