- 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒, 𝐸𝑚𝑝𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑙𝑙 -
It's the year 1485 and King Richard III has been slain at the battle of Bosworth along with his beloved wife and Queen, Marian of Lancaster. Their eldest daughter, Lisbet, is given little time to...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Both Lisbet and Francis shot up from the covers at the sound of the screams and it was not long until the scent of smoke intoxicated their noses, making them cough slightly.
"Christ" Lisbet hissed as she grabbed her chemise and rushed to the entrance to her tent, pulling the flimsy garment over her head.
Yanking the fabric back, Lisbet pressed a hand to her mouth as she tried to suppress a scream of terror as the scene of the Yorkist camp set ablaze met her gaze.
Horses broke free from their teachers and dashed to a fro wildly, whinnying in distress while they tried to look for their owners. Soldiers with flaming torches in their hands ran around in a frenzy, evil grins on their faces as they set fire to the Yorkist tents before running onto the next, slaughtering every unarmed man and woman in sight.
"Tudors!" Lisbet cried behind her and flung the tent flaps shut, her heart beginning to pound as the terrified screams of Yorkists filled her ears "shit!" She cried, grabbing her shirt and trousers before heading over to her armour and gesturing for Francis to do the same "put it on! And then go and find my mother and Anne! Do it now, Lovell!" She yelled upon seeing her husband hesitate, caught between her orders and his instinct to protect her.
At last, with his armour clumsily strapped on, the duke fled the tent, his sword drawn as Tudor soldiers ran toward him.
Lisbet wiped the tears from her eyes as she struggled with her gauntlets it's all falling apart' her mind screamed at her desperately 'and it's all my fault' another scream filled her ears and she could not help but let out a yell, her voice breaking slightly as she placed her battle axe in her sword belt and grabbed her blade.
Hearing a small tweet as she began to run, Lisbet spun around and yanked Bailaríns cage door open. "Fly!" She cried and her bird did as he was told, darting straight into the deadly fray before he disappeared from sight and the Duchess followed; immediately began to choke on the smoke that filled her lungs and stung her eyes.
Focusing on the task at hand, Lisbet set off to find her family, striking down every soldier that came her way as she called out the names of her kin.
"Ned! Mama! Anne! Bianca! Cathy! Ed! Where are you?!" Clutching at her throat, she coughed again and felt her wound from the battle rip open slightly as she raised her sword to cut down a Tudor. Crying out at the pain, Lisbet only just caught the sound of her name, only registering it when the person called it again. Anne.
The girl was hiding behind a tree, her bloodied sword in her hand while she clutched at the front of her slashed nightgown.
"Lisbet!" She cried, trying to wipe away the tears that streamed down her cheeks which were blackened from smoke "Lisbet!" She yelled more desperately than before and saw her sister turn; run towards her. Without a second thought, Anne threw herself into her arms, clinging on for dear life "sweet Jesus, what's happening?!"
