Once Bitten, Twice Shy

16

The days passed and the air turned cold, winter had arrived, bringing with it it's icy bite. The days fell short and the nights grew long, and the drafts floated through the poorly insulated house, causing involuntary shivers at every corner. It was a time of big, puffy coats and fluffy blankets, and an excuse for Jane to keep everyone in the household amply supplied with steaming cups of tea to fend off the chilling cold.

It used to be Anne's favourite time of the year.

She'd loved the frosted streets, and the dormant trees, and the way her breath condensed into a cloud of smoke. She'd loved the crisp winter air and the smell of cinnamon that always seemed to linger after Jane baked cookies. She'd loved curling up in front of the fire and watching the rain patter on the windows as she sat, cosy and content and safe from the cold. She'd thought winter was beautiful.

Past tense.

But now the darkness and the storms and the bitter winds didn't feel like they were locked outside anymore.

"Knock, knock." A soft voice called through the door and broke her from her thoughts. Jane emerged, holding up a mug. "Special delivery." She smiled weakly and placed the drink on Anne's bedside table.

"Thanks Jane." Anne attempted a smile, but it was clear it wasn't real. She just didn't have the energy anymore. Jane patted her knee in comfort and turned to leave, catching sight of the sketch cradled in her arms. It was an image depicting a snow covered house, surrounded by ferns and in the middle sat a window from which a child peered out in joy. She felt her heart sink for the Anne and tried to hide the worry that passed through her face, the poor girl didn't need any more grief. So instead she plastered on a kind smile and let her be.

Anne only sighed and turned to her window - discarding the mug of warm tea as usual, knowing it was only Jane's excuse to check up on her, rather than keep her hydrated - and watched as the rain fell from the murky sky. She felt it perfectly mirrored her feelings, the grey clouds reflecting the haze in her mind, as if her life was a movie and this was all just a dramatic scene before the sky cleared and birds started to sing, she kept waiting for the plot twist, for the big reveal that it wasn't true and she could have her baby back safe and sound. But each day the reality hit hard and diminished those dreams.

She kept waiting nonetheless, not knowing what specifically she was waiting for but preferring that answer to accepting the idea that maybe she wasn't waiting at all, just letting her life pass by with no real purpose. She didn't like that thought.

But she also wasn't sure what else to do.

She didn't want to face the problem and risk another conflict, having always been more of a peaceful soul, but the thought of Parr's face was so painful that she feared she wouldn't always be able to keep her control. Granted, the majority of her hatred was towards the bastard she was married to, but she couldn't take her anger out on him, and so Parr had become an easy target.

That being said, letting it all out hadn't been as helpful as she'd imagined. She'd felt a release for a second before it all came tumbling back again, the pain piling up on top of her until she couldn't breath. It was a long time coming and was bound to happen at some point in her life, she just hadn't expected it to hurt so much. She also hadn't expected that person to cause that pain would be someone she'd once thought couldn't even hurt a fly.

"Anne please!"

Parr had been at the dining table writing, everyone else scattered in various places around the house. She was silent when Anne came in, wishing she could say something but didn't have the words. So she kept her head down. But when Anne had kicked her chair on her way past, the writer flinched slightly at the thump, before shooting up from her chair in a moment of desperation to talk to the girl.

Anne whipped round to face her. There was so much pain, so much anguish in her eyes, and so much questioning. No matter how hard she had tried, she couldn't begin to comprehend Parr's reasoning for her actions.

There was only one word that formed in her mind.

"why?"

Parr furrowed her brows.

"You heard me." She stated flatly. "Why did you do it?"

"Anne I..." The words never came.

"That's the only thing I have to say to you so don't waste my time."

Parr was silent, no matter how much she'd practiced the words in her head, standing in front of Anne made them all fall back out again. She was beginning to get impatient, and as the seconds passed by and Parr continued to stumble over her words, she could feel the anger building all over again. She didn't want to snap, not again. So instead she pushed it down, and stormed out the room, knocking Parr out of the way in the process and leaving the girl stuttering behind her.

She found herself lying on her back, staring up at the blank ceiling for lack of anything better to do. Her sketch lay forgotten at the end of the bed and the cup of tea was now stone cold. She had no motivation, she had no thoughts; the only activity inside her head being memories replaying at random. Some from days of her previous life, some reminding her of events no longer than a week ago. But the hours passed by with no real change and night eventually fell.

She couldn't sleep. It was ironic because the only thing she'd felt throughout the day was crushing exhaustion, and yet, when the time came to let herself rest, it wasn't needed.

It was funny how night worked; everything was magnified. Thoughts that were mere inklings in the back of her head during the day suddenly became blaring sirens threatening to split her skull with their screams, and the wondering of what happened after she died got too much, curiosity got the better of her.

Leaning down to grab her laptop, she winced at the bright light of the screen against the darkness of the room as it turned on, and let her brain pour out into the search bar, every fear, doubt or question she'd had was answered - whether for better or worse - telling her the tales of her daughter's reign. Numerous articles had been opened and forgotten again as she went through page after page of information; over fifty years of history that she hadn't been there for. All of them recalled the same things.

The Golden Age: A time she would never experience.

Good Queen Bess: The hero she had never known.

Queen Elizabeth I: Her lizzie, all grown up and leading her nation to glory without the hand of her mother to guide her.

She wasn't sure whether to feel proud of her daughter's accomplishments, or disheartened at the fact that she didn't appear to have been missed. Elizabeth had grown into one of the most successful monarchs in history, pushing past the issues from her messy childhood and thriving. She had defeated empires, conquered worlds, beat conspirators at their own game; and Anne's absence didn't seem to have affected that. She hadn't needed her advice or her knowledge. She hadn't even needed her love. And that thought left a hole in Anne's heart that she feared would never be filled.