sewing flowers | tewkesbury ✔︎

xii. the beginning of the end

I dragged myself over to Enola, who lay right next to Tewkebsury, collapsed in exhaustion.

After all our pain and hard work, we had managed to save Tewkesbury's life. For good, this time.

Tewkesbury rustled, helping himself up, seeming dizzy and breathless but otherwise alright. I laughed slightly, bringing the three of us together in a warm but messy hug, savouring the new peaceful mood.

The man in the bowler hat grunted, somehow still alive. He could hardly move, with his head injury so bad it was a wonder he wasn't dead yet.

Enola scrambled towards him, her eyes blazing with fire, and shouted at him.

"Who do you work for? Who do you work for!?" She shouted mercilessly, hands scrunching up the bloodied fabric on his chest.

The man's eyes were blank, little trace of life inside them. He reeked of death, which hovered around him, waiting to pounce. Waiting to take him from the clutches of life.

"England." He snarled, taking one last heaving breath, shuddering, and falling limp.

I stood up with all the strength I had left, tearing myself away from Tewkesbury, and hovered my foot above his head, before smashing it into his face.

"Just for good measure." I snarled, while Enola drew back, turning around at something I couldn't see.

I turned around as well, after noticing the fear in Enola's eyes. What possibly could happen now? We had gone through so much, and now there was more? When would this end?

The tip tapping sound of a cane resounded through the silent hall, and just in the distance, I noticed an elderly woman, dressed in rich cloth and undeniably born from rich blood.

"Grandmother?" Tewkesbury whispered, his face blank, but pale as a sheet. His eyes betrayed his blank face, showing all the betrayal and emotion in his mind. I could almost see the gears working away at his head.

"Yes..." Tewkesbury's grandmother whispered, the hints of pain lacing her voice overcome with resigned determination, "...I'm afraid so."

"It seems if you want a job done, "She continued, stopping before the rifle on the ground, "You have to do it yourself."

I moved to protect Tewkesbury, realising that the threat of his death still looked over us. He put his arm out in front of me, shaking his head. This was something he'd have to do alone.

"Where's my mother?" He said, all joy and relief gone from his voice.

"In London, along with your uncle. Looking for you." She said, picking up the rifle advancing. "They never understood."

"I'm so sorry, my darling." She whispered, but her face had no guilt, no love. "The future of the country is at stake."

I panted, moving to stand beside him, every bone in my body screaming at me to help him. Tewkesbury shook his head once more, leaving me to stand beside Enola, tears trailing silently down her face.

In a second, Tewkesbury's grandmother raised the rifle with remarkle speed, and almost instantaneously, fired the gun, sending a bullet right into Tewkebsury's heart.

"No!" I shouted in unison with Enola, rushing to Tewkesbury's side. His body thudded to the ground, eyes closed and arms limp.

I stayed beside him while Enola raged with fury, tearing herself away from Tewkesbury and running at Tewkesbury's grandmother, blazing with grief.

Tewkesbury's grandmother shot at Enola, and for a second, my heart raced. Not Enola, no. Not her. I can't lose another, I can't, not when a boy was laying limp in my arms.

But I was worried in vain. The gun clicked, empty of ammunition, and there were no extra bullets around. She lowered her gun, and Enola glared at her, tears threatening to spill out, before laying her hands on the rifle, taking it away from the grandmother.

"It is done." Tewkesbury's grandmother whispered, her face slack with a hint of grief. "It is done."

Enola threw the gun aside, realising there was no more threat, and rushed back towards me, shouting for Tewkesbury. I stepped aside slightly, letting her mourn. I laced his hand's with mine tightly, gripping it with no intention to let go, while Enola grabbed the other, tears falling onto it.

I sobbed, the death starting to fully set in. With my free hand, I desperately pressed it against his heart, begging and pleading. Begging for a movement of his lungs, a beat of his heart, or a shuffle of his body.

Enola frantically whispered, pleading alongside me. "Please," She began, tears now freely trailing down her face, "Please wake up."

I felt no pulse, only a cold body, and gasped. "No...no..." I lay my head down, resting my forehead on his, overcome with grief.

This is not how it ends.

I gripped his hand, racked with silent sobs, willing for a miracle to happen, for anything to happen. Enola mourned next to me, her hand still holding Tewkesbury tightly as well, pleading silently.

And then it came. Gentle at first, so gentle I thought it was a hallucination. His hand gently tugged mine, tightening his hands around mine. Enola gasped, for the same happened to her hand.

His gentle hold turned warm and fierce, his eyes waking up and his chest breathing. It was miraculous, the sound of his beating heart and the warmth of his hand.

With help from Enola and I, he forced himself up, and unbuttoned his coat, revealing the armour chest piece he had shoved under only a couple of minutes ago.

Of course, I smiled, pride racing through me, How could I forget. He's-

"-Not entirely an idiot, you know." He grinned, arms spread outwards, inviting us to embrace.

I gladly did so, my shuddering breaths replaced with calm ones as I looped my arms around Enola and Tewkesbury's, my body shaken with relief.

Tewkesbury pulled back, now standing up alongside Enola and I, glaring at his grandmother with resolution and determination.

"This is the end." He whispered, but his words carried all throughout the hall. "Your time is over."

-

author's note:
yayyay they did it!

word count: 1017 words