Work Text:
Sometimes he still felt it.
Sometimes it was as if he was still right there.
The rope, so tight around his wrists he could feel it cutting in. Knowing if it ever came off the marks of every singular thread would be imprinted on his skin for days.
The heat of the flames licking further up the bonfire around him. Any second now it would catch up to him and take him down with them, probably screaming.
But mostly, he couldn’t forget Jane.
He cried out for her as she was paraded through the sea of people. He could’ve screamed himself hoarse. But that was exactly what they wanted. The reaction.
She looked too calm. Too peaceful. Too accepting.
If she wasn’t going to be angry, he could be even angrier for her. And he was downright fucking fuming.
Her eyes met his across the roaring crowd. Maybe he was wrong. The orange of the flames reflected more stars in her eyes than usual. Tears. Tears she dare not let shed. Tears she wouldn’t give anyone, especially not Mary, the satisfaction of being shed.
His chest heaved. He felt sick. He fought against the ropes as he had been before, desperate to be released. He had to do something, he couldn’t just let this happen. He couldn’t be responsible for the death of someone else he loved again. Pain flared through his wrists as the rope cut in deeper. A flame hissed closer by his feet and he could almost feel the heat through the leather of his boots.
The removal of her cloak revealed the simple white gown she’d been given to wear. It showed everything better. And gods forbid Jane Grey’s execution be anything less than a fucking good show.
And even in the most dire of circumstances, gods she looked so beautiful.
His Jane. His brave, enigmatic, beautiful Jane.
She held eye contact with him as the executioner spoke to her and he hoped she told him to fuck all the way off. He had always thought the concept of forgiving the person literally about to chop your bloody head off was complete bollocks.
The blindfold had clearly completely obscured her vision as she knelt and started desperately reaching around her, clearly unable to find the execution block. His heart battered against his ribs even harder, if that was at all possible at this point. It felt like it would either give out or explode in his chest at any moment.
He couldn’t look as she found the block, looking anywhere except her. Even Mary’s beaming face was better than that. But the guilt-ridden face of Margaret next to her only made it worse. He choked back a sob.
The swing of the large axe being hoisted into the air was crystal clear even above the clamour of the crowd. Or maybe that was just his focus on it.
Once.
The executioner prepared.
Twice.
Making sure he had the right spot.
“Guildford… Guildford!”
Guildford awoke shaking. Every inch of his body was trembling and his breath was stuck in his windpipe.
“It’s ok, I know, it’s ok.”
Jane’s hands were warm as they cradled his head to her chest, one gently placing itself on his own.
“You’re here.” He gasped. Earlier that evening, Archer had informed them of a last minute recon mission to observe Mary’s new guard patterns. Charles, who was still inside the palace undercover, had informed them it had changed again, probably to throw them off whenever they rose back up against her. They wanted Jane to go with them, given out of all of them she knew the grounds best, and Edward very well couldn’t go. Jane had the smarts Edward simply never had the chance to acquire. It was supposed to be an overnight mission. She wasn’t supposed to have been back until the morning.
He feared for her safety but The Pack also feared sending both of them at once on certain missions and trips would do more harm than good. If they couldn’t keep both of them around, one was better than nothing. A living (now former?) Consort was still more useful than a dead Consort.
Guildford gripped at Jane’s back desperately, fingers sliding under her cloak and pressing firmly against her back, just wanting to feel the movement of her shoulders, the press of her diaphragm against the side of his head. He oftentimes found it was the only way to regulate himself again. Not only to match her breathing but to make sure he could feel it. To know she was here. To know she was safe.
“Breathe with me, I know it’s hard. I know. I know.” She murmured gently in his ear.
The back of his shirt was soaked through, he could feel it sticking against his skin. Nightmares weren’t a new thing to him. After his mother’s death, they started to plague him viciously. The uncertainty of whether he’d been the reason for her death, not being able to do anything more if it wasn’t. Either answer didn’t settle right in his chest and he couldn’t find peace with it for a long time. Turns out it was the latter, his father graciously confirmed. But reassurance from him that it was a complete accident and no one held any resentment towards him for it, just the same pain as him for the loss they endured, as anyone would, made the years long guilt ease a little. But only a little.
The nightmares had started to lessen a few years ago now, even if the guilt didn’t. Guildford thinks it’s because he learned mostly sleep in his other form, wanting to enjoy the bare few moments he could actually feel human during the night in any way he could. He knew the reputation he’d garnered for himself by doing that, fighting, drinking, fucking, but he never cared. He never expected to end up in the situation he ended up in. He never expected to ever make it this far to begin with.
The first time Jane was shaking him awake, pure panic in her voice was in the Ethian camp not long after The Pack had rescued Jane and himself from their execution.
“Jane,” He’d choked out her name, barely even able to do that. He’d gripped the sides of her face, staring into her deep brown eyes. His hands clambered down to the sides of her neck, pressing gently just to feel the skin under his fingers. A little blemished, but definitely still attached.
“I’m here.” She confirmed gently.
It took at least ten minutes before he’d caught his breath back again. “I’m sorry.” Guildford had whispered.
“It’s ok. Susannah said it happens a lot with newcomers.”
“Still sorry. It’s the third time this week.”
Jane smoothed his hair back from his forehead. “Is that sensitivity from the unconscionable Guildford Dudley?”
Guildford snickered. “I think we’re far past that now, indomitable Jane Grey.”
She laughed softly, tightening her sweet hold on him. She went quiet for a moment, he knew that meant she was thinking, then took a gentle breath before saying: “May I ask… what it was? I mean, I can gather some sort of idea but if you’re comfortable telling me we might be able to do something about it. I- I don’t know if there’s any medicinal ways I can help but if there’s the option, I’d like to try because I don’t like seeing you this way-”
Guildford moved as she spoke, angling his head up and capturing Jane in a kiss mid-sentence, if only to stop her rambling. He meant nothing malicious by it, he just knew she got herself worked up and then couldn’t stop.
“I’d like that.” He smiled against her mouth.
No medicinal cures had worked.
Jane had tried everything she knew, and she knew a fair fucking bit.
Unfortunately, the only thing that had seemed to have any effect in lessening the regularity of the nightmares had seemed to be… talking?
Susannah, for the little Guildford knew of her prior and her rather intense distaste towards him (which was completely fair enough looking back at how he acted), was an incredible person to talk to.
She understood hating her own skin just as well as he did, a way none of the Verities surrounding him ever could through no fault of their own.
“You know, it took me a long time to accept it.” Susannah sipped her beer by the bonfire. Guildford watched her warily. “You said your family told you it was your only flaw and I get that. Mine acted like it was mine too. It’s an incredibly strange feeling to go from loved to hated in a matter of milliseconds, right?”
“Absolutely.”
“But what actually is it that makes it a flaw? Personally, I’ve got great eyesight and I can defend myself in ways no Verity would ever be able to. And I can fly because I am literally a fucking hawk. That’s cool.” She snorted. “There comes a point where hating yourself just becomes so bloody boring. What you do about that can vary but I decided to actually try and make some change with it.”
Guildford nodded slowly. He understood what she meant. Years of forced changes were so mundane and boring now, he was sick of hating it and hating his life. Then he met Jane, and hope slowly crept its way in.
“So what perks do you have?” Susannah prompted him.
“I… am very strong I guess and I have a great memory? Because I’m a… horse?” Guildford still struggled to say it out loud.
The day changes came and went less regularly than they used to. It used to be a daily thing, something Guildford had no control over, but since that night at the execution, it only seemed to be after a really bad night did he lose control of his body and find himself suddenly on four legs again. Usually that was when Jane was away for the night. Luckily, on any mission they’d sent him on so far he’d managed to retain control.
“You have to find the good in it, like everything in life.” Susannah encouraged him. “We can’t change the past, as much as we would like to. I don’t like that I got thrown out on the streets before I was even a teenager, but if I hadn’t I wouldn’t be here changing the country with some of the best people I’ve ever known.”
“I worry for Jane too. I don’t know if that doesn’t help.”
“Maybe. But everything happened so recently that I’m not surprised. I told Jane it’s fine, I’ll tell you too. It’s so normal here. All of us have a story.”
Guildford nodded. “I just mean I worry that she’s keeping it all in to not burden me. I know she has nightmares too. She’s just quieter. I can feel when she wakes up and whenever I wake up with her she just tells me to go back to sleep. I try to help her but she won’t accept anything I do.”
“Ah.” Susannah’s voice softened. “She’s ok. Yes, she doesn’t want to worry you. But she’s talking. She knows other people here the way you don’t, not your fault, just how it is. You’ve got a lot to deal with by yourself so she’d rather not worry you more she says. She’s lucky, I think, that it doesn’t come out the same way it does for you. But it still isn’t fun. It was like that for me too for a while when I first came. It’s a bitch to not be able to do anything about it by yourself because you’re asleep. But Jane has been talking to me and a bit to Archer. Edward too when he’s around. She’d let one of us know if it got too much. Or you. But don’t think you’ll ever be too much for her. You could never be.”
Guildford chucked. He was glad Jane had so many people in her corner that cared for her. That could be there for things he couldn’t. But if someone had told either of them just a matter of weeks ago on their wedding night that one of them would never be too much for the other, they’d have cackled directly in their faces. But Susannah was right. She’d never be too much for him. He’d take her rampant chaos over the mundane routine of trying to feel alive that he’d fallen into before meeting her any day of any week.
“I just want it to stop.” He whispered into her hair.
“I know.” Jane replied. She’d gently helped him take off his soaked shirt and it now lay folded over the makeshift clothing rail in the corner of their tent. With still shaking fingers he’d offered to help unlace her dress and she quietly let him. Jane knew if he focused on something else it would help ease his mind.
Guildford went quiet again. Opening his mouth, he second guessed himself, then closed it again.
“What’s wrong?” Jane asked, turning to look over her shoulder.
“I just,” He sighed. “I can’t stop picturing it. It’s like I’m right there all over again and I can’t do anything to stop it. It’s like I’m reliving what happened with my mother all over again.”
Now it was Jane’s time to be silent. She turned fully, taking in the view of Guildford’s forlorn face. She’d never seen him look so… upset.
“I get that too.” She breathed. Sitting on the bed with her dress half undone, Jane took Guildford’s chin in her hand and met his eyes with hers. “Sometimes I still feel the execution block in my hands. I can hear Mary’s cackle, above everything else. I see Margaret’s face. I don’t think she’s ever felt guilt in her life but she felt enough in that moment for the rest of it. I couldn’t even think about how I was to leave Katherine to the mercy of my mother again now our name was tarnished because of me and you.”
Guildford could almost see the scenes reenacting in her eyes as they slowly unfocused.
“I wish you would tell me these things.” He reached up and squeezed the hand that gripped his chin.
“You’re dealing with enough by yourself.”
“But you lived it.” Guildford countered. “I just saw it.”
“Guildford, if I died, I wouldn’t know it.” Jane tapped back into reality, eyebrows knitting. “One second I’d be here, the next, gone. But the retaliations that has on my family, on you… that’s the part I can’t deal with sometimes.”
“I was happy to die if it was for you. I’d still be happy to die if it was to save you.” Gently, their fingers at Guildford’s chin interlocked and his other brushed Jane’s hair away from her face.
“Well, hopefully our futures involve a lot less potential to die for each other in it.”
“Once we get Edward back on the throne.”
“Yes, once we get Edward back on the throne.” Jane laughed softly.
They went quiet once more, just appreciating the moment between them.
“I love you.” Guildford barely whispered. “You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.”
“And you me.” Jane replied, voice no louder. “I love you.”
The noise in either of their heads didn’t stop for a long time.
Even once they were back home in their own bed, safe, Edward back on the throne, where he stayed for years and years to come, Ethians steadily rising in both status and rank.
Years more had passed, but both Jane and Guildford knew no matter how much time came between their almost deaths and their current lives, if any remnants of darkness still crept up in the small hours of the night, they had each other.
Jane knew exactly how to soothe Guildford, breathing as one body.
And eventually, she also let Guildford in. She hadn’t quite realised just how much weight would leave her small body by it. At the end of the day, she was only human after all.
But a regular night was just quiet.
After dinner they would mostly retire to their chambers, wanting to spend time alone together unless called upon by friends like Edward, or Susannah. Jane would often curl up by their fireplace with her current read as Guildford carefully plucked each and every pin out of her hair from the day before brushing it until it was sleek down her back.
Or, they’d study a new language together. Jane had desperately wanted to learn the Alberti Cipher and who was Guildford to deny her.
They poured hours over books, music, games. Together.
It was an easy life. One they both had always wanted.
They slept, they drank, they ate, they partied (sometimes).
But most importantly, they loved.
And on those now rare nights, love was all they needed.