Finch, Rosy

[theannamp]

Part 3

The screams and cries of the wounded haunting the air. Each voice seeped into my bones, echoed in my ears. There were hundreds of them. Threads of their garments stained by the toils of war. Their raw scars sealed beneath my needle. I had watched their eyes close. Some in peace, others in torment. But the House of York, whose banner we toiled, had claimed victory on this blood-soaked field. So no matter how many clothes I've washed, wounds I've stitched, and friends I've lost, I should still be grateful. But my heart, hollow and numb beneath the weight of everything I've seen. It beat with dread, with no light of joy. Archie, where are you? Something in me stirred, invisible pull of a strange instinct. A force urging me to find him amidst this chaotic sea of glory and blood. I kept hoping that he's still out there somewhere, whole, withstood the storm. --- The day came when he was found, cold and lifeless. My world stopped turning. A body without its light, just a borrowed shell of the soul I once knew so well. As if something reached into my chest and tore out my heart, punched the air from my lungs and left me burning from the inside. But I didn't die. Just kept going, breath by breath, carrying a grief too heavy to name. My whole life flashed before my eyes. A thousand of memories bloom like wild roses within my mind. Rushing back, sharp and cruel. There's so much we never got to do, many words I never said, days we thought we'd have. My castle crumbled, left my soul homeless. Dear God, What did I do to deserve this? Was I truly so unworthy of his love, that You had to tear him from me in such a cruel, final way? You didn’t even spare me the chance when there was still life clinging to him. He slipped through my fingers, before we ever had the chance to become what we were meant to be. What more did You want from me now that I left with nothing? •••

[theannamp]

Part 2

My hands are bound by the chains of duty. So long has it been since my bare feet dance across the soft, flowery hills. I cannot recall the last time earth truly kissed my skin.

I am no longer the woman I once has, yet I know I am not alone in this hollow ache. In the middle of war, countless souls bear wounds far deeper than mine. For I am, a noble lady with countless blessings to my name, should be more grateful and count them with grace. My suffering in truth is just a single drop of rain in a river of wrongs and sorrows. And yet in a world stripped of peace, lacked of warmth and love, you were there. Archie, You saw me, not as title, not as a symbol of duty, but as a dreamer. As a woman whose heart still dared to beat with hope. With you, I was no longer a shadow behind my golden curtains. I was a child again, laughing, unburdened, whole. And for you, I was strength. When the world bore down heavy upon your shoulders, pressing against the weight of your shining knight’s armor, it was my words, my heart, soft and wise, that made you feel light once more. We were each other’s solace, each other’s fire and calm. But the iron rule, with it's cruel demands and suffocating laws stood between us. A man made for war, a soul destined for sacrifice. You, My Archie, Though I cannot change the shape of this world, I often dream of one untouched by swords and sorrow, a world where we could have been free. Free to walk those hills again. Free to love without fear. But that world is only a dream. And dreams are too often taken from me. •••

[theannamp]

Part I

The feel of the wind as I ran barefoot across the green hills, my laughter carried far and wide like a song of the moor. When I was young, I was a joyful child. But my father, a man of stature and sharp ambition of the Yorks court, tethered me with books instead of reins. He made me read of laws, lands, war and politics. He taught me to keep my chin high even when the weight of the world pressed against my shoulders. He said it was my duty. To move with grace. To speak with elegance. To hide steel behind silk. My heart was cold, relentless as tempered iron. My thoughts pierce like a sharp pointy maiden's sword. Wise, but cut deeper than most people would dare. Disciplines were no strange thing in the house of Finch. Yet behind my father’s lectures and grand speeches, I saw the truth. My old man was up to no good when he'd do anything to keep his name and family be at his King's good grace. He was a man of hunger. Hunger for power, for status and for the King’s favor. And for that, he would do anything. Even if it meant spilling blood by dooming the innocent.

One thing for sure, there’s a beam of light who kept me strong. Rare as the glimmer of a comet in the sky- Archie, Not even Jupiter, and all it's celestial magnificence, could fill the aching hollow that has lingered my soul since the day you slipped away from the world. •••