bitterfic (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} bitterfic) wrote,@ 2009-07-23 18:32:00 |
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Change of Heart: Elizabeth- The Golden Age Drabb;e
Author: Bitterfig
Title: Change of Heart
Fandom: Elizabeth – The Golden Age
Pairing: Elizabeth/Bess
Beta Reader: Fedink
Word Count: 173
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Author's Note: Written for femslash_today's Fireworks09 porn battle for the prompt "change of heart."
Change of Heart
A Queen is a complicated thing, a five act play that is history and comedy and tragedy all in one. I am both Gloriana – the painted icon of a Protestant Madonna – and a woman of flesh and blood. A childless woman, mother of thousands. A virgin, loved by all. A Queen is more and less than herself.
A Queen is a complicated thing.
I imagined being Bess was infinitely simple and easy. I thought she was clear water and sunlight, that I could look into her heart and there was nothing to see but my own reflection. I fancied she was content to be vestal to the divine Virgin.
I trusted her because she knew me as both woman and Queen but seemed to see no divide between the two. She loved me and for that I loved her.
Now it seems she loves another.
Yet now it seems that even a soul as fresh and straightforward as a meadow in spring can harbor secrets. That even the most steadfast heart is changeable.
Author: Bitterfig
Title: Change of Heart
Fandom: Elizabeth – The Golden Age
Pairing: Elizabeth/Bess
Beta Reader: Fedink
Word Count: 173
Rating: PG
Warnings: None.
Author's Note: Written for femslash_today's Fireworks09 porn battle for the prompt "change of heart."
A Queen is a complicated thing, a five act play that is history and comedy and tragedy all in one. I am both Gloriana – the painted icon of a Protestant Madonna – and a woman of flesh and blood. A childless woman, mother of thousands. A virgin, loved by all. A Queen is more and less than herself.
A Queen is a complicated thing.
I imagined being Bess was infinitely simple and easy. I thought she was clear water and sunlight, that I could look into her heart and there was nothing to see but my own reflection. I fancied she was content to be vestal to the divine Virgin.
I trusted her because she knew me as both woman and Queen but seemed to see no divide between the two. She loved me and for that I loved her.
Now it seems she loves another.
Yet now it seems that even a soul as fresh and straightforward as a meadow in spring can harbor secrets. That even the most steadfast heart is changeable.