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“I had the dream again,” the little boy whispered to his brother, shaking him violently awake. “I think I really felt it this time.” He hugged his older brother tight as the other sat up and rubbed his face. The little boy blinked rapidly to rid himself of the tears in his eyes as his brother rubbed reassuring circles into his back.

“It was just a dream, Richard,” he insisted to the nine-year-old. “It’s nothing to worry about.”

“But it was scary!” Richard protested. “The lopsided man came in the room and he grabbed me by the throat until I couldn’t breathe!”

Richard,” his brother growled at the sound of the man’s given moniker. “I told you to stop calling him that.”

The boy pulled away and crawled to the end of the bed, lower lip trembling in a pout.

“Well that’s just what he is,” he mumbled. “His shoulders. They’re at at different heights and that makes him look really funny.”

“I know that, but it’s still not nice to say,” his brother scolded the boy with a sigh, crawling after him. He wrapped an arm around the younger boy and let him lean on his shoulder for comfort.

“When are you going to be king, Edward?” the little boy asked with a frown, turning his head to look up at the twelve-year-old.

“Soon,” Edward said, getting to his feet. “It’ll be soon.” He wandered over to the window, looking out over the grounds of the tower. It was quiet, dead quiet, but Edward was certain the guards were alert at their posts. “I’m sure of it.”

“You said it’d be soon when I got here, and that was two months ago,” Richard pointed out, his expression changing from that of disappointment to that of irritation. “And before that you were here a month already!”

“It’s not up to me,” Edward called back, refusing to look back at his brother. He hung his head and let out a heavy breath, fists unclenching. “We’re here until they coronate me. They’re going to have to do it sometime. They can’t keep us in here forever.”

“What if they never do?” Richard asked, sitting cross-legged. “What if the lopsided-”

“He’s our uncle, Richard, you need to stop calling him that, no matter how he looks,” Edward growled, spinning on his heel and glaring at the boy. “I bet he wouldn’t be very happy to hear you say that about him.”

“I’m sorry,” Richard said, looking down at his feet as a flush covered his face.

Edward let out another sigh and climbed back into bed. “It was just a dream, Richard. Please, let me go back to sleep and get some rest yourself. We’ll ask about coronation tomorrow.”

Richard’s eyes lit up in the moonlight. “Really? You promise?” he asked. Edward laughed and nodded, patting the spot on the bed beside him.

“Of course. Now come on.” Richard worked himself back under the covers and the brothers fell back asleep.


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In August of 1483, Edward V and his brother, Richard, stopped coming out of the Tower of London. Edward V's coronation never occurred, despite his placement in the Tower assumed to be for that purpose. Some claim that their uncle, Richard III, spine deformed by scoliosis, murdered them to secure his place on the throne.

To this day, no one quite knows for certain.

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Written by XAstromothx

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