Work Text:
It. Was. Suffocating.
She couldn't breathe. That was the first thing that entered her mind when she finally got off stage. The moment she was behind the wings and out of sight from the audience, she bolted.
The others sent her worried glances, some even trying to stop her, but she dismissed them. Pushing her way through the exit, not even bothering to change out of her costume. Shoddy looks were thrown her way when she passes through throngs of people as the frigid air of London numbs her, but not what she feels. She continues to run.
She's not even sure what caused it. One moment she was enjoying the show as usual, the next she was hit by a sinking feeling in her stomach. By then, it wouldn't leave her.
So of course, the logical solution was to run and to not share what she felt to the others. They already have enough on their plate already, they don't need her problems piling in on that. Trauma from sharing the same husband would do that to you, as well as being used and abused throughout her first life.
Feeling her legs give way, she collapses on the nearest steps on whatever place she decided to find comfort for this time. A quick look around the area, it relieves her that she's the only one there at the moment. So she sits there, thoughts running amok in her mind.
So what did bother her that she ran off so suddenly? Just an innocent thing really, but it wasn't their fault anyhow.
A mother and a daughter sharing an embrace right after the Megasix. The woman giving the girl a sweet smile as they walk out of the auditorium hand in hand.
She doesn't know why she felt what she did because of it. It can't have been from personal memories, she has few of those with her.
It was no secret that her own mother had already passed before she can make a lasting impression in her life. Then again, even if she did, she was too young to remember. All she knows was that she was a woman that happen to gave birth to her and her plentiful siblings.
At least, that's what she knew of Jocasta Howard neé Culpeper.
Katherine heaved a sigh once more and faced the place she decided to take solace, at least for a little while, before going back to the upgraded theater that now houses the show of the queens. It was a mausoleum of some sort, an ivory color scheme coated the little stone-like catacomb and thanks to the door having left open behind her, a sliver of light from the setting sun lit up her way as she caught a glimpse of the inside.
Apparently she wasn't paying attention when she dashed off from the other queens and had accidentally entered private property. Hopefully she won't get thrown into jail for a second time for what she's about to do.
Curiosity taking over, Katherine stands up and enters, squinting in the darkness as she tries to make out who were the souls that were laid to rest. Names flew by her sight, making her idly wonder why they were put here of all places. Until one name catches her eye.
She ran her hand at the emblazoned insignia of the tomb, feeling the familiar pattern of the arms of the House of Howard. Below it was the engraved letters, to be sure gibberish to anyone from modern times. Despite the difference of spelling and the early version of English (which she is still quite adept at, as does the other queens), there is no doubt that this particular crypt belonged to her mother. Glancing at the other tombs, she belatedly realizes that the others must have been later generation's in her family's lineage, each of them having the same crest embedded into their slabs.
Though her main priority right now is the one bearing her mother's name, a mere whisper of a woman in her father's and step-grandmother's households.
After four hundred and ninety-nine years, this is how we finally meet huh?
The teenage queen laughs dryly.
I'm not exactly sure what to think of you, but then again, what am I supposed to think about you? It wasn't your fault that you were gone before I even get to know you. Father barely spoke a word, while my brothers and sisters weren't much help and step-grandmother had nothing to say.
She wipes a hand to her eye before the tear falls. "Just... Who were you?"
Katherine manages to return to the Vaudeville right before the evening show starts.
She goes through the usual routine of the show, cues and lines right on time, her body practically going on autopilot. She ignores the glances the others threw at her, even after they all changed and piled into the car and drove home.
Right after finishing a late dinner, courtesy of Jane, the fifth queen excuses herself and goes up to her room. She only got a few seconds of silence before there were a few rasps on the door.
Mumbling a "come in," Anne peeks her head through before entering the quarters. She barely noticed how one side of her bed dipped as her cousin threw her a concerned look. Katherine was not meeting her eyes, as she was currently staring at the bare ceiling.
"So," she starts off casually, "are you going to stare into space for the rest of the night and brood or are you going to spill on why you bolted?"
Katherine remains silent.
The two queens stayed in that state for quite some time. Anne gave the room a once over in those moments, despite practically seeing it every other day; salmon walls, a bay window, a white colored door to her walk-in closet (of course the force that brought them back spared no expense in luxury for the six of them), a vanity sharing the same color scheme, and of course the magenta bed the two were on.
She did this for who knows how many times now when the younger of the two finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper.
"Anne, how close were you to your mum?"
Boleyn did a double take, not expecting the question. "I'd say fairly close, but that depends on your definition of it." Truth be told, Anne was not completely sure on where her relationship with her mother stands. Majority of her life (well, first life that is), she spent it in a different country, completely detached from the woman. By the time she was recalled back to England, a different person now filled the void that was supposed to be occupied by Elizabeth Boleyn neé Howard.
A questioning look graces Katherine's face as she turns to pay full attention at her. "What'd you mean by that?"
"Well," Anne leans against the fifth queen's headboard, "I wasn't exactly that close to my mum, but not far enough that we're strangers you hear?" She could see her younger cousin nod at this. "We kept each other in arms length and I can't say I don't blame her. She was barely there when I was a kid and even when I came back from France, we were a bit formal with one another." The second queen picked at the bed's comforter. "Although to be completely honest, I'd prefer her over my father any day. Thomas Boleyn could rot in hell for all I care."
Katherine sat silent, digesting her cousin's words. At least Anne had not one, but two mothers, albeit in a different sense, but still cared for her all the same. Talk about lucky.
Meanwhile, the fifth queen's experiences were limited to practically none existent. She tries to think back to her earliest memory with her mother but could only come up empty handed. Though, in the nights where she actually sleeps peacefully and not plagued by pesky nightmares, she could swear she hears a sweet voice in her dreams. A familiar and, at the same time, unfamiliar comfort makes her at ease whenever she hears that voice.
"Did you wish she was there more in your life?" Came Howard's second question.
Anne opened her mouth before closing it again, contemplating the question. Staying silent for a few moments, she thinks of the appropriate answer. Taking a deep breath, she finally says, "Yes."
"Why?"
"I don't even know," Anne drags a hand frustratingly through her hair. "Maybe it's because I wanted her to be there in important moments in my life, wished she was the one who taught me what I know, wished that I was closer to her. Just a general sense of..." She trails off, before muttering quietly, "actual presence in my life."
"But she was in your life, wasn't she?"
"Kit, there's a difference between being there for someone and actually being in their life."
Katherine's lips pressed into a thin line as she thought about her cousin's words. She does raise a point.
Unaware of the teenager's dilemma, Anne's brows furrowed as concern once again fills her being. In a soft voice, she asks, "Katherine, is there any reason why you brought this up?"
The teenager played with the tips of her ponytail, gaze locked on it as she tried to lightly braid it. "You'll probably think I'm silly if I told you why..."
"Try me?"
At Boleyn's genuine tone of enticement, she sighs and undoes the small braid she created.
"It's about..." Well, here it comes, "it's about my mum."
Anne raised a questioning brow. "Your mum?"
Katherine nods, hands now fidgeting the permanent azalea band on her left ring finger, waiting for her reaction.
"Well what about her?"
"It's just, well, it's just," she stops twisting the ring for a moment and breathes through her nose heavily. "I don't know. I don't know how to explain it. But I just felt like there's something... Missing? A missing feeling I think? I'm not really sure." She goes back to fiddling with the small jewelry.
Anne opens her mouth to respond only to close it just as fast. The teenage queen is apparently experiencing the lack of maternal presence in both of her lives, and she just happens to process it in her second one. She contemplates about what she's going to say for once, since Jocasta Howard was one of the few Howards she actually liked, and the role she should have taken in young Katherine's life.
"Listen, I've only met your mother a few times but I'll say this: Aunt Joyce has got to be one of the sweetest people I've met." Though that's not a high bar if I'm being honest.
"Really?" Anne swears the amount of hope in the teenager's voice just makes her want to wish she could have protected her back then. She nods in place of an answer, which made the younger queen's curiosity pushed further.
"Tell me more? Please?" Rose-colored eyes were practically pleading her senseless against her emerald ones.
Giving a chuckle, Anne obliges. "Alright, what do you wanna know?"
It took Anne about an hour and a half, and maybe then some, to tell Katherine what she knows about her late mother. Of course she started from how the two met ("Typical arranged marriage in the family," she explained with a shake of her head), some snippets of what her own mother told her about them, and then some personal stories from her own experience from interacting with the woman.
After all was said and done, Katherine sat still for a few moments. "Wow..."
"Yeah."
"Well I'll say this then."
"And that is?" The second queen raised a questioning brow.
Katherine merely shrugged. "Guess I know where I got my penchant for music from now."
"Makes sense now that I think about it," Anne remarked, remembering how she always hears some type of melody whenever she swung by the estate (whether by her own accord or not). She can practically see it on her mind's eye as Jocasta's hands seemingly danced about the keys of the harpsichord as she plays, her stomach swollen but her expression being at peace.
"Also explains why classical music is also your go-to whenever you're working on something eh?" She lightly shoved the younger woman teasingly. The fifth queen huffed in annoyance but made no denial in the claim.
"What? It's calming and one of the few things that actually can be recreated from our time..." She then muttered quietly, "the fact that my mum also used to play just makes me feel closer to her now."
Anne hummed in response as she started to stand. Stretching and rolling her shoulders, she regarded the younger queen. "Well, hope that makes you feel a bit better about your mum Kit, I just thought that the stories might help a bit more." She stops extending her arms, "it did help right? Because if it didn't and just brought up bad memories I am so sorry -"
"No, no, it's fine Annie. The stories actually do help." Stifling a yawn, Katherine glances at the clock and cringes at the time. "Welp, as much fun story time was, guess it's time for bed now."
Her cousin was now the one glancing at the clock. "Yeah I guess it does."
Ruffling the younger queen's hair, Anne made her way out of the room. With one last look, she sent a smile to her cousin. "Sweet dreams, Kit."
"You too Annie."
The sound of a door clicked shut as Katherine tucked in and turned off her light.
When the other queens asked about what she dreamt last night, she'll reply that a kind woman with a heartfelt expression was playing an instrument from their time. Along with her was a kid sitting on her lap as she look at the woman in wonder.