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sheenianniTitle: Out of the Dungeons (Epilogue)
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sheenianni
Fandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
EPILOGUE
They had clam soup, rabbit with redcurrant sauce and finally a tuna, with honey-dipped fruit for desert. It was far from the opulent feasts in the Royal Palace, but better than Peter had had during most of his campaigns with the army and way better than the slop they fed him in the dungeons. But even as his stomach clutched with hunger, he knew better than to eat too much, too fast. His head was swimming, the wine already making him dizzy, and Peter knew he might be sick unless he was careful. So he took small bites, chewed carefully, and indulged himself with fantasies of the breakfast tomorrow, the lunch after that, and the dinner next evening.
And just like that, he spent the evening laughing at Neal’s jokes, drinking wine and eating, making small talk once Captain Ellis came to join them for dinner, and trying to be a good companion despite the thoughts that plagued his mind.
Traitor or not, he was still supposed to be a gentleman.
“Excuse me,” he said suddenly. He stood up, putting away his napkin and hurriedly walked out of the cabin to get some fresh air before nausea caught up with him.
His unsteady feet brought him to the side of the ship. He really shouldn’t have drunk all that wine… Swallowing, Peter put his forearms on the railing. The last time he had been at sea had been about a year before he had met Neal. Now, the salty smell of the ocean felt foreign and yet familiar. Watching the sea waves crash against the ship’s keel, Peter let their sound sooth him, smooth over the sharp edges of his pain and regret.
Minutes, hours passed. When the sun had set, Peter stared at the black ocean, willing the darkness to swallow him.
He stiffened a little when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
“If you wanted to do some stargazing, you picked the wrong night. There are too many clouds tonight.”
Captain Ellis.
Turning around, Peter came face-to-face with the woman. “I see I left in the middle of our dinner. Pardon my manners, Captain–”
“You can save the pleasantries, Lord Burke–”
“Call me Peter, please.”
The Captain smiled. “Of course, Peter. And it’s Sara.”
This time, Peter wasn’t so surprised that she didn’t offer him her hand to kiss, instead settling for a friendly smile and leaning against the railing next to him.
He tried not to stare, even though the sight of the captain was still quite surprising. Sara wasn’t wearing skirts or a dress, which would have been impractical at sea, instead opting for a white shirt, a dark green vest with simple but beautiful embroidery, tight dark trousers and a pair of knee-high leather boots. Whether noble or commoners, very few women dressed like this, and for a woman to become a captain of her own ship was almost unheard of – at least in Peter’s country. But Peter knew better than to question the state of things when it had been Sara’s ship and her crew who had picked them up and saved him from death, whether it had been by execution or drowning.
He turned back to look at the ocean. The moon was just a tiny crescent, barely visible behind the clouds. Speaking of the clouds…
“There’s a storm coming,” said Sara, following his gaze.
A bad storm at sea could be quite an event. “Is there anything you need from me or Neal?” asked Peter.
Sara smirked a little. “Just stay out of our way once it starts.”
Well, he could easily do that. “All right.”
“How are you holding up?” asked Sara after a moment of silence.
And wasn’t that a loaded question.
But he wasn’t willing to discuss it with a stranger. “It’s of no concern. I’ll be all right,” said Peter dismissively. He cleared his throat. “As grateful as I am for your rescue, may I ask where you plan to put us ashore?”
Sara raised her eyebrows. “Are you already so eager to get off my ship?”
“I’m merely curious,” said Peter with a shrug. “Neal never got that far in his explanation. Obviously he told me that we would be leaving the country, but–”
“Ah.” The captain paused. "We’ll be stopping at several ports; you can leave wherever it suits you. Maybe you should read your letter before we talk about your departure?”
Right. The letter.
Peter almost asked again how did anyone even know to contact him, but something about Sara’s expression stopped him. He hesitated.
The sound of thunder not too far away startled him and broke him from his thoughts.
Sara frowned. “The storm’s nearly here. We have to reef the main sail before it hits us.”
“Of course. I’ll take this inside, then.”
As he closed the door to his cabin, Peter could hear Sara barking orders at her crew. He stilled when he noticed Neal dozing in one of the armchairs, no doubt exhausted by the long swim and his injured foot.
It hit him suddenly that Neal was essentially free now. For a moment, Peter wondered if Neal was going to stay with him, or if he was going to leave now that Peter’s life wasn’t in danger anymore. He recalled that Neal had once had a lover where he came from, and she had probably gotten married since, but maybe she had waited for him. And Peter had always thought that Neal was made for the life of a spy, but maybe after what had transpired so recently, he would miss his country and the previous, simpler life. Since they had escaped and he wasn’t bound to Peter anymore, would Neal choose to leave?
If that was what he really wanted, then Peter wouldn’t try to stop him.
Quietly, Peter picked one of the lamps in the cabin and settled himself in the opposite armchair. The storm reached the ship just as he broke the nondescript seal on the envelope.
Peter reached into the envelope, pulling out a stack of parchment. Then he froze.
It was a second envelope, but this one had a seal that he recognized.
The Royal Seal. One that belonged to Queen Elizabeth.
What was that seal doing there?
Peter ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter. The handwriting was Elizabeth’s – she often dictated her letters to a scribe, but he had seen several of her personal letters and it was undoubtedly her penmanship. And that signature… he would recognize it anywhere.
With shaking hands, Peter stared at two separate sheets in front of him.
The first one was a variation of the same document that he had seen several times in his life, declaring him a diplomatic envoy with full rights to negotiate on the behalf of his country. But the second…
For his loyal service in securing a treaty of alliance and trade with the Southern Empire on the behalf of Our kingdom, We, Queen Elizabeth IV of the House Mitchell, hereby forgive any crimes committed by Lord Peter Burke, grant him a full pardon from any previous punishment, and restore to him all property and titles.
Signed by the Rightful Queen Elizabeth IV Mitchell,
Daughter of King Alan I Mitchell,
19th October 1697
The letter fell on the floor.
Peter swallowed as it all clicked in his mind. Hastily, he bent down to pick up the parchment. Once again, he read both documents. He then moved to crumble the envelope so he could burn it in the lamp and with it the incriminating seal, but stopped at the last moment. He needed to show it to Neal, who had long ago surpassed his abilities in spotting fakes. If the letter was real…
It meant that Elizabeth, clever, gorgeous, ambitious Elizabeth was planning a coup. She was going to take her throne back from King Ruiz, either by intrigue or by force. The task she set out for Peter – to get the support of Empress June Ellington of the Southern Empire – was likely just one of her many steps. And if the King’s men found out…
Heads would roll. Reese, Lord Blake, Lord Siegel… the King wouldn’t care whether they knew or not. The lucky ones would simply be beheaded, whereas the rest of them would be tortured for more names – real, made up, it would matter not. Their wives, their children and friends, all would pay for their supposed part in the conspiracy, because this wasn’t a difference of opinions or careful opposition – this was the highest treason against the true and rightful King. Elizabeth herself would likely spend the rest of her days in the fortress that Peter had just escaped, and that was if she was lucky and Ruiz still didn’t dare to kill her.
The documents, the signatures and the seal on the envelope had the potential to ruin hundreds of lives. And the Queen had trusted him with that.
That was, if they were real. It could be a trap, even though Peter’s instincts were telling him that this was truly the Queen’s work. But if he were wrong…
Peter stared at the terrible, terrifying letter and hesitated. Did he dare show it to Neal? Did he trust Neal with something this deadly?
On a personal level, absolutely. But Peter had responsibility towards his country (and he was on Elizabeth’s side; he couldn’t not be, not when it was Elizabeth, who, unlike Ruiz, was born in their Kingdom, who was merciful and clever, who should have never had to give her Crown away to protect her people) – Peter was going to support Elizabeth, no matter what it cost him. But Neal hadn’t been born one of them, he had in fact been tortured and imprisoned during Elizabeth’s short reign, and if he had ever wanted revenge, he would never get a better opportunity than this. And even if Neal merely decided to leave, would he keep the secret? As the Queen’s man, did Peter dare to trust him?
And then Peter chuckled, because the answer was so obvious, it wasn’t even a choice.
Clearing his throat, he gently shook Neal’s arm.
“Neal? Wake up. I need you to look at something.”
* * *
Three days after Peter had showed him the Queen’s letter, Neal was sitting on a random box at the starboard, enjoying the gentle breeze of wind and still a bit in awe from the vast space of blue around. The sun was shining, no signs of a storm ahead, not that he could really tell with his (lack of) knowledge of seafaring. But as of the moment, it was a lovely day.
Neal grinned.
His ankle had turned out to be merely badly sprained, though walking was still an effort. Therefore, he had spent part of the morning watching Captain Ellis, until she noticed and shot him a displeased look. Mozzie had warned him that Sara was proud of her accomplishments, and it was clear that she wanted to be seen as a captain and navigator first and foremost. Neal liked that about her; her determination and abilities, her smarts and wit that only added to her beauty. He was looking forward to getting to know her, if only as a friend. Despite Mozzie’s warnings, Neal didn’t think Sara would really throw him overboard if she thought he was acting inappropriately, but he was smart enough not to test it – he had had enough experience with drowning to last him for a while.
As he observed the sailors on the ship, Neal once again marveled at the look of some of the crew members. As much as he tried not to stare, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by their dark skin, their dark brown eyes and curly hair. Once again, Mozzie had warned him – and Neal had heard stories and even seen two such people before once during an audience in the Royal Palace – but he had never spoken to any of them, and so it had been a unique experience when he finally talked to Sara’s first mate, Clinton Jones.
And… damn.
Neal smiled sheepishly and waved a little as one of the sailors caught his look. And he really needed to nip this in the bud right now, because Peter asked him to accompany him to June Ellington and the last thing they needed was to insult the Empress and her husband by staring at them like they were some great spectacle, thus causing a diplomatic incident.
It was a mission that couldn’t fail, because Peter’s future and the future of his country were probably depending on it. While Neal still didn’t have much love for Queen Elizabeth, he also had no particular loyalty towards King Ruiz, and at least it seemed that the Queen was on Peter’s side. That was enough for him.
Neal frowned.
Two days ago, Peter had asked him whether he intended to leave now that they had successfully escaped their Kingdom. Neal had barely hesitated before giving his answer. Maybe in the first year or two after Peter recaptured him, it would have been different – even knowing that he had already lost Kate, he still could have gone back to his country, back to the life of a carpenter. But now there was his friendship with Peter, and the simple life of a commoner also no longer held any appeal for him. For better or worse, Neal was in this for the foreseeable future – and he was only glad that he had good friends around him, people like Peter or Mozzie who had his back. And he had theirs.
Yesterday he had woken up Peter from his nightmares, only to have him return the favor a few hours later. They had lit a lamp then and played some cards, both of them unable to sleep anymore. And in those early hours before sunrise, they had talked about the dungeons, about their past and future, about mercy, friendship and trust that had grown where there should have been none.
The wounds Peter still bore from the dungeons made Neal’s blood boil. But they would heal, and they were free now, their future was in their hands.
And they were going to make the best of it.
* * *
Queen Elizabeth, Consort of King Ruiz, was sitting comfortably in an armchair while a servant was brushing her hair. She was just sipping lemonade from a crystal glass when she heard the commotion from outside: sounds of yelling, arguing voices and the clatter of arms. She took another sip of her lemonade and remained unmoving.
Suddenly, the door to her chambers burst open and her husband walked in. All the servants bowed immediately.
“My King,” said Elizabeth politely.
“Peter Burke has escaped,” said Ruiz without preamble.
“Burke? But how?”
Instead of answering, Ruiz stared into her eyes, as if he was searching for something. Elizabeth held his gaze.
Finally, her husband looked away. “My men are looking for him. They will catch him before he gets far.”
“That’s good,” said Elizabeth firmly.
Ruiz searched her face again before leaving without a word.
Elizabeth waited until the servants finished her hair before sending them away. Once she was sure she wasn’t being watched, she allowed herself a victorious smile.
When she had first heard, all those years ago, that Lord Burke had saved Nicolau d’Haldren’s life, she had come within an inch of having d’Haldren executed and Lord Burke cast out of the court. She had been truly angry at Peter’s defiance of her authority and at the risk that he had taken by releasing a possible spy instead of bringing him back to the dungeons. But in the end she had allowed it, mostly because of her fondness for Peter, and she had never regretted that choice. In the years that followed, Peter and Neal had served her loyally, the secrecy twice that important once her marriage to Prince Ruiz came to be.
And now Neal Caffrey had done her the biggest service yet when he broke Peter out of the dungeons and saved him from the death sentence that was a terrible mockery of everything that was just and right.
Once again, Elizabeth felt a wave of rage.
She had always cared for Peter Burke; she appreciated him as a friend, because politics dictated that was all he could be and Elizabeth was a Queen first. She had allowed Ruiz to take the Crown from her to protect her Kingdom, and for years she had stood in his shadow, letting him take that power rather than risk a civil war… until he crossed the line.
Ruiz had let Peter be sentenced to death; he had refused to grant him clemency, decided to take everything from him, including his life.
And Elizabeth was done playing nice.
Luckily, her old friend had informed Elizabeth the moment she had been hired to aid Peter Burke’s escape. Sara Ellis (formerly Sara Wickham) had been Elizabeth’s maid until age thirteen, when she had run away to escape an arranged marriage, a fate that had brought such unhappiness to her sister Emily. Over a decade later, Sara was a captain of her own ship and one of Elizabeth’s most loyal agents. Elizabeth knew she could count on her to get Peter out of the Kingdom and to pass her letter to him.
With Peter well and out of harm’s way, Elizabeth could focus on the next step of her plan.
The alliance with June Ellington would help strongly, but it wasn’t an absolute necessity. Getting her husband to abdicate… that would take some delicate work. At this point, Elizabeth was not planning her husband’s death – not yet – but she would go that far if Ruiz left her no other option.
Because she was the Queen, and Ruiz had dared to mess with Peter.
She would have help, of course. Lord Hughes, Lord Siegel, Lord Blake and Lady Covington were just a few names that came to mind.
She was getting her Kingdom back. And maybe if she was lucky, Peter would one day come back as well.
Straightening her dress, Queen Elizabeth put on a smile and went to join her husband in the throne room.
THE END
Author:
sheenianniFandom: White Collar
Notes: See Prologue
___________________________________
EPILOGUE
They had clam soup, rabbit with redcurrant sauce and finally a tuna, with honey-dipped fruit for desert. It was far from the opulent feasts in the Royal Palace, but better than Peter had had during most of his campaigns with the army and way better than the slop they fed him in the dungeons. But even as his stomach clutched with hunger, he knew better than to eat too much, too fast. His head was swimming, the wine already making him dizzy, and Peter knew he might be sick unless he was careful. So he took small bites, chewed carefully, and indulged himself with fantasies of the breakfast tomorrow, the lunch after that, and the dinner next evening.
And just like that, he spent the evening laughing at Neal’s jokes, drinking wine and eating, making small talk once Captain Ellis came to join them for dinner, and trying to be a good companion despite the thoughts that plagued his mind.
Traitor or not, he was still supposed to be a gentleman.
“Excuse me,” he said suddenly. He stood up, putting away his napkin and hurriedly walked out of the cabin to get some fresh air before nausea caught up with him.
His unsteady feet brought him to the side of the ship. He really shouldn’t have drunk all that wine… Swallowing, Peter put his forearms on the railing. The last time he had been at sea had been about a year before he had met Neal. Now, the salty smell of the ocean felt foreign and yet familiar. Watching the sea waves crash against the ship’s keel, Peter let their sound sooth him, smooth over the sharp edges of his pain and regret.
Minutes, hours passed. When the sun had set, Peter stared at the black ocean, willing the darkness to swallow him.
He stiffened a little when he heard the sound of footsteps approaching.
“If you wanted to do some stargazing, you picked the wrong night. There are too many clouds tonight.”
Captain Ellis.
Turning around, Peter came face-to-face with the woman. “I see I left in the middle of our dinner. Pardon my manners, Captain–”
“You can save the pleasantries, Lord Burke–”
“Call me Peter, please.”
The Captain smiled. “Of course, Peter. And it’s Sara.”
This time, Peter wasn’t so surprised that she didn’t offer him her hand to kiss, instead settling for a friendly smile and leaning against the railing next to him.
He tried not to stare, even though the sight of the captain was still quite surprising. Sara wasn’t wearing skirts or a dress, which would have been impractical at sea, instead opting for a white shirt, a dark green vest with simple but beautiful embroidery, tight dark trousers and a pair of knee-high leather boots. Whether noble or commoners, very few women dressed like this, and for a woman to become a captain of her own ship was almost unheard of – at least in Peter’s country. But Peter knew better than to question the state of things when it had been Sara’s ship and her crew who had picked them up and saved him from death, whether it had been by execution or drowning.
He turned back to look at the ocean. The moon was just a tiny crescent, barely visible behind the clouds. Speaking of the clouds…
“There’s a storm coming,” said Sara, following his gaze.
A bad storm at sea could be quite an event. “Is there anything you need from me or Neal?” asked Peter.
Sara smirked a little. “Just stay out of our way once it starts.”
Well, he could easily do that. “All right.”
“How are you holding up?” asked Sara after a moment of silence.
And wasn’t that a loaded question.
But he wasn’t willing to discuss it with a stranger. “It’s of no concern. I’ll be all right,” said Peter dismissively. He cleared his throat. “As grateful as I am for your rescue, may I ask where you plan to put us ashore?”
Sara raised her eyebrows. “Are you already so eager to get off my ship?”
“I’m merely curious,” said Peter with a shrug. “Neal never got that far in his explanation. Obviously he told me that we would be leaving the country, but–”
“Ah.” The captain paused. "We’ll be stopping at several ports; you can leave wherever it suits you. Maybe you should read your letter before we talk about your departure?”
Right. The letter.
Peter almost asked again how did anyone even know to contact him, but something about Sara’s expression stopped him. He hesitated.
The sound of thunder not too far away startled him and broke him from his thoughts.
Sara frowned. “The storm’s nearly here. We have to reef the main sail before it hits us.”
“Of course. I’ll take this inside, then.”
As he closed the door to his cabin, Peter could hear Sara barking orders at her crew. He stilled when he noticed Neal dozing in one of the armchairs, no doubt exhausted by the long swim and his injured foot.
It hit him suddenly that Neal was essentially free now. For a moment, Peter wondered if Neal was going to stay with him, or if he was going to leave now that Peter’s life wasn’t in danger anymore. He recalled that Neal had once had a lover where he came from, and she had probably gotten married since, but maybe she had waited for him. And Peter had always thought that Neal was made for the life of a spy, but maybe after what had transpired so recently, he would miss his country and the previous, simpler life. Since they had escaped and he wasn’t bound to Peter anymore, would Neal choose to leave?
If that was what he really wanted, then Peter wouldn’t try to stop him.
Quietly, Peter picked one of the lamps in the cabin and settled himself in the opposite armchair. The storm reached the ship just as he broke the nondescript seal on the envelope.
Peter reached into the envelope, pulling out a stack of parchment. Then he froze.
It was a second envelope, but this one had a seal that he recognized.
The Royal Seal. One that belonged to Queen Elizabeth.
What was that seal doing there?
Peter ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter. The handwriting was Elizabeth’s – she often dictated her letters to a scribe, but he had seen several of her personal letters and it was undoubtedly her penmanship. And that signature… he would recognize it anywhere.
With shaking hands, Peter stared at two separate sheets in front of him.
The first one was a variation of the same document that he had seen several times in his life, declaring him a diplomatic envoy with full rights to negotiate on the behalf of his country. But the second…
For his loyal service in securing a treaty of alliance and trade with the Southern Empire on the behalf of Our kingdom, We, Queen Elizabeth IV of the House Mitchell, hereby forgive any crimes committed by Lord Peter Burke, grant him a full pardon from any previous punishment, and restore to him all property and titles.
Signed by the Rightful Queen Elizabeth IV Mitchell,
Daughter of King Alan I Mitchell,
19th October 1697
The letter fell on the floor.
Peter swallowed as it all clicked in his mind. Hastily, he bent down to pick up the parchment. Once again, he read both documents. He then moved to crumble the envelope so he could burn it in the lamp and with it the incriminating seal, but stopped at the last moment. He needed to show it to Neal, who had long ago surpassed his abilities in spotting fakes. If the letter was real…
It meant that Elizabeth, clever, gorgeous, ambitious Elizabeth was planning a coup. She was going to take her throne back from King Ruiz, either by intrigue or by force. The task she set out for Peter – to get the support of Empress June Ellington of the Southern Empire – was likely just one of her many steps. And if the King’s men found out…
Heads would roll. Reese, Lord Blake, Lord Siegel… the King wouldn’t care whether they knew or not. The lucky ones would simply be beheaded, whereas the rest of them would be tortured for more names – real, made up, it would matter not. Their wives, their children and friends, all would pay for their supposed part in the conspiracy, because this wasn’t a difference of opinions or careful opposition – this was the highest treason against the true and rightful King. Elizabeth herself would likely spend the rest of her days in the fortress that Peter had just escaped, and that was if she was lucky and Ruiz still didn’t dare to kill her.
The documents, the signatures and the seal on the envelope had the potential to ruin hundreds of lives. And the Queen had trusted him with that.
That was, if they were real. It could be a trap, even though Peter’s instincts were telling him that this was truly the Queen’s work. But if he were wrong…
Peter stared at the terrible, terrifying letter and hesitated. Did he dare show it to Neal? Did he trust Neal with something this deadly?
On a personal level, absolutely. But Peter had responsibility towards his country (and he was on Elizabeth’s side; he couldn’t not be, not when it was Elizabeth, who, unlike Ruiz, was born in their Kingdom, who was merciful and clever, who should have never had to give her Crown away to protect her people) – Peter was going to support Elizabeth, no matter what it cost him. But Neal hadn’t been born one of them, he had in fact been tortured and imprisoned during Elizabeth’s short reign, and if he had ever wanted revenge, he would never get a better opportunity than this. And even if Neal merely decided to leave, would he keep the secret? As the Queen’s man, did Peter dare to trust him?
And then Peter chuckled, because the answer was so obvious, it wasn’t even a choice.
Clearing his throat, he gently shook Neal’s arm.
“Neal? Wake up. I need you to look at something.”
Three days after Peter had showed him the Queen’s letter, Neal was sitting on a random box at the starboard, enjoying the gentle breeze of wind and still a bit in awe from the vast space of blue around. The sun was shining, no signs of a storm ahead, not that he could really tell with his (lack of) knowledge of seafaring. But as of the moment, it was a lovely day.
Neal grinned.
His ankle had turned out to be merely badly sprained, though walking was still an effort. Therefore, he had spent part of the morning watching Captain Ellis, until she noticed and shot him a displeased look. Mozzie had warned him that Sara was proud of her accomplishments, and it was clear that she wanted to be seen as a captain and navigator first and foremost. Neal liked that about her; her determination and abilities, her smarts and wit that only added to her beauty. He was looking forward to getting to know her, if only as a friend. Despite Mozzie’s warnings, Neal didn’t think Sara would really throw him overboard if she thought he was acting inappropriately, but he was smart enough not to test it – he had had enough experience with drowning to last him for a while.
As he observed the sailors on the ship, Neal once again marveled at the look of some of the crew members. As much as he tried not to stare, he couldn’t help but be fascinated by their dark skin, their dark brown eyes and curly hair. Once again, Mozzie had warned him – and Neal had heard stories and even seen two such people before once during an audience in the Royal Palace – but he had never spoken to any of them, and so it had been a unique experience when he finally talked to Sara’s first mate, Clinton Jones.
And… damn.
Neal smiled sheepishly and waved a little as one of the sailors caught his look. And he really needed to nip this in the bud right now, because Peter asked him to accompany him to June Ellington and the last thing they needed was to insult the Empress and her husband by staring at them like they were some great spectacle, thus causing a diplomatic incident.
It was a mission that couldn’t fail, because Peter’s future and the future of his country were probably depending on it. While Neal still didn’t have much love for Queen Elizabeth, he also had no particular loyalty towards King Ruiz, and at least it seemed that the Queen was on Peter’s side. That was enough for him.
Neal frowned.
Two days ago, Peter had asked him whether he intended to leave now that they had successfully escaped their Kingdom. Neal had barely hesitated before giving his answer. Maybe in the first year or two after Peter recaptured him, it would have been different – even knowing that he had already lost Kate, he still could have gone back to his country, back to the life of a carpenter. But now there was his friendship with Peter, and the simple life of a commoner also no longer held any appeal for him. For better or worse, Neal was in this for the foreseeable future – and he was only glad that he had good friends around him, people like Peter or Mozzie who had his back. And he had theirs.
Yesterday he had woken up Peter from his nightmares, only to have him return the favor a few hours later. They had lit a lamp then and played some cards, both of them unable to sleep anymore. And in those early hours before sunrise, they had talked about the dungeons, about their past and future, about mercy, friendship and trust that had grown where there should have been none.
The wounds Peter still bore from the dungeons made Neal’s blood boil. But they would heal, and they were free now, their future was in their hands.
And they were going to make the best of it.
Queen Elizabeth, Consort of King Ruiz, was sitting comfortably in an armchair while a servant was brushing her hair. She was just sipping lemonade from a crystal glass when she heard the commotion from outside: sounds of yelling, arguing voices and the clatter of arms. She took another sip of her lemonade and remained unmoving.
Suddenly, the door to her chambers burst open and her husband walked in. All the servants bowed immediately.
“My King,” said Elizabeth politely.
“Peter Burke has escaped,” said Ruiz without preamble.
“Burke? But how?”
Instead of answering, Ruiz stared into her eyes, as if he was searching for something. Elizabeth held his gaze.
Finally, her husband looked away. “My men are looking for him. They will catch him before he gets far.”
“That’s good,” said Elizabeth firmly.
Ruiz searched her face again before leaving without a word.
Elizabeth waited until the servants finished her hair before sending them away. Once she was sure she wasn’t being watched, she allowed herself a victorious smile.
When she had first heard, all those years ago, that Lord Burke had saved Nicolau d’Haldren’s life, she had come within an inch of having d’Haldren executed and Lord Burke cast out of the court. She had been truly angry at Peter’s defiance of her authority and at the risk that he had taken by releasing a possible spy instead of bringing him back to the dungeons. But in the end she had allowed it, mostly because of her fondness for Peter, and she had never regretted that choice. In the years that followed, Peter and Neal had served her loyally, the secrecy twice that important once her marriage to Prince Ruiz came to be.
And now Neal Caffrey had done her the biggest service yet when he broke Peter out of the dungeons and saved him from the death sentence that was a terrible mockery of everything that was just and right.
Once again, Elizabeth felt a wave of rage.
She had always cared for Peter Burke; she appreciated him as a friend, because politics dictated that was all he could be and Elizabeth was a Queen first. She had allowed Ruiz to take the Crown from her to protect her Kingdom, and for years she had stood in his shadow, letting him take that power rather than risk a civil war… until he crossed the line.
Ruiz had let Peter be sentenced to death; he had refused to grant him clemency, decided to take everything from him, including his life.
And Elizabeth was done playing nice.
Luckily, her old friend had informed Elizabeth the moment she had been hired to aid Peter Burke’s escape. Sara Ellis (formerly Sara Wickham) had been Elizabeth’s maid until age thirteen, when she had run away to escape an arranged marriage, a fate that had brought such unhappiness to her sister Emily. Over a decade later, Sara was a captain of her own ship and one of Elizabeth’s most loyal agents. Elizabeth knew she could count on her to get Peter out of the Kingdom and to pass her letter to him.
With Peter well and out of harm’s way, Elizabeth could focus on the next step of her plan.
The alliance with June Ellington would help strongly, but it wasn’t an absolute necessity. Getting her husband to abdicate… that would take some delicate work. At this point, Elizabeth was not planning her husband’s death – not yet – but she would go that far if Ruiz left her no other option.
Because she was the Queen, and Ruiz had dared to mess with Peter.
She would have help, of course. Lord Hughes, Lord Siegel, Lord Blake and Lady Covington were just a few names that came to mind.
She was getting her Kingdom back. And maybe if she was lucky, Peter would one day come back as well.
Straightening her dress, Queen Elizabeth put on a smile and went to join her husband in the throne room.
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Date: 2016-02-13 09:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-14 11:56 am (UTC)I was very happy that I could insert Sara into the story, even in a small role. I think she has quite a bit of sympathy for Peter's situation and there would be an interesting relationship between them. And once I decide to include her, I really wanted to write more backstory for Sara, because it definitely had to be difficult for her to get where she is now and it must have been quite a challenging journey... but there simply wasn't space for it in this fic, as the story was mostly Peter and Neal's (and to a lesser degree, Elizabeth's).
Thank you for your review and I'm glad you enjoyed the fic :)
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Date: 2016-02-14 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-14 02:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-20 11:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-21 04:24 pm (UTC)Thank you for your review :)
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Date: 2016-02-21 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-21 04:33 pm (UTC)Thank you for your review!
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Date: 2016-02-22 03:52 am (UTC)Glad that Peter will be pardoned. We know how much it means to him. :)
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Date: 2016-02-22 07:13 am (UTC)LOL, Pirates of the Caribbean are probably the one movie that I didn't think about at all when I was writing this. There are bits of Le Comte de Monte Cristo (I love the books and the miniseries with Gerald Depardieu, so I tried not to rip it off too much), and also a flashes of the Temeraire series (bits of Peter's personality in this were influenced by Captain Lawrence, who is the protagonist of those books).
Well, either Elizabeth will succeed in overthrowing Ruiz and Peter will be pardoned, or her coup attempt will blow up in her face - in that case, they will all move to June's Empire and start a government in exile, or they will cross the ocean, found a new country and live happily ever after :D
Thank you for your review :)
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Date: 2016-02-25 02:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-02-25 03:01 pm (UTC)