Chapter 21- Bound by Loyalty

Author's Note: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE LAST FEW CHAPTERS DO NOT READ ON!

So here we are, after 2 years and a bit here comes the final chapter of Falconmaster. To recap: Clara was kidnapped by Macabrius, so Richard, the Doctor and a few others set out to save her. All, but Richard, Clara and the Doctor fell in Market Bosworth and Richard was mentally and physically wounded after his stand off with the real Macabrius. He told his friends to run while he slows down the impeding Lancastrian regiment.

Now the Doctor and Clara need to tell the others and make away with Megan and Ed. There is a little twist at the end, and I wasn't planning on that until the last minute, but here we will find our way back to modern day Britain.

Once more, I want to thank YOU ALL for allowing this story to happen by reading and reviewing. This was a really tough chapter, as my initial goal when I planned this was the last chapter! Hopefully, it's not too bad!

Here goes the final chapter: "Bound by Loyalty". :)

"Doctor, tell me this is a joke?" Jack de la Pole said quietly. They were in a gloomily lit room in Nottingham.

"It's not a joke, lad," Francis answered grimly. He had done his crying, his anxious pacing at ungodly hours. It was Jack who this wound was the freshest for, who wanted so badly for a messenger to arrive and declare that the King was requesting their assistance at Leicester. Even failing that, Jack expected his uncle to march through the gates of Nottingham with Tudor's head.

Francis heard a soft sob, but was too deflated to confirm who it belonged to.

"So, in other words, my uncle died because he was trying to save you?" Jack demanded icily.

"I-I am so, so sorry, Jack!" Clara cried.

"Careful, lad!" Francis snapped.

"You can't blame Clara for Richard's death!" the Doctor said. "It was the Lancastrian soldiers that drove their swords, daggers and pole arms into him, not Clara."

Jack nodded but said nothing, before looking away out of the window.

"I knew Dickon from childhood," Francis began, his voice breaking. "Lady Clara, believe me when I say that what he did for you today, that is a true token of his loyalty and his character, the true token of the man I knew all those years ago."

"I know," Clara said wistfully. "I will never forget that, I am so glad that I will never find out what Macabrius would have done when he discovered who I really was." She smiled painfully, wiping her eyes.

"Live a good life, Clara, live a brilliant life... and remember my uncle Dickon," Jack said.

"I will, I'll never forget as long as I live," Clara assured. I'll be as brave and selfless as Richard was, or at least try my hardest to be.

"I dreamed that he had died," Francis admitted. "Tell me... was he happy, in the end?"

"Happy?" Jack cried, offended.

"He saw Anne," Clara said simply.

"What?"

"Before he died, we used the remaining Cryastium to build a gateway," the Doctor explained.

"So before... it happened Richard would have Anne to take him and be with him," Clara said. "We saw him when he saw her and when he lifted her up and walked through the gateway. He was happy."

"And at peace," Francis stated as a tear fell from his eyes. "I think we're going to need some food and drink if we will make this night." He cracked a smile, before rising and opening the door to ask a servant to bring supper. But there was no servant that stood outside, it was a young girl that looked as pale as chalk, almost as if her tender body was submerged with hypothermia.

"How long have you been there, Megan?" Francis probed evenly. "How much have you heard?"

Megan looked down, before holding back sob, as the realisation hit them all.

"Megan, come on," Jack said, putting an arm around her. "It's best you get to bed." Megan looked crestfallen and froze.

"She's lost her uncle!" Clara snapped.

"As have I, Lady Clara," Jack said evenly.

"He was like a father to her for nine years. Don't send her away now!" Clara beseeched. The Doctor looked at Jack, who in turn looked at Francis. The redheaded viscount nodded.

Megan slowly trailed inside and had seated herself between the Doctor and Clara, when she said: "It's my fault."

"Why do you say that?" Jack asked.

"I blessed him before he went to war, like Auntie Anne used to do, only I couldn't do it right, because he's dead." Megan had started to cry again. "I'm sorry, I-I know I shouldn't..."

"It's OK, darling," the Doctor consoled hugging her tight and kissing her head, while she held him back and began sobbing quietly. "It's not your fault. In fact let me tell you something: I think your blessing might have saved us all.

"Your uncle had to make a difficult choice today- he could have chosen to live and curse us all by becomming a puppet of a vengeful and powerful man called Ares Macabrius. But your uncle chose his people, and you, before himself. And that's how he died."

"So what now?" Jack said after a long pause.

"Richard asked to take these two to Burgundy," Clara informed. "He said you, Francis, would know what to do militarily."

Francis looked shocked, but then nodded. "Yes, I have an idea, but tell me this first Doctor: what of Bess and Cecily?"

The Doctor shifted uncomfortably, before glancing at Clara, who gave him an uncertain look that told him they may as well tell the truth. He then looked down at Megan, a child, an orphan, who had just lost her last father figure, and a firestorm of ache struck his hearts.

"Richard ordered me to keep them all separate, so it will be harder to track them down," he answered.

"Very well, Ed will be better off with us, I think," Jack said. "We will need him to fight for his birthright."

"Jack, he's hardly cut out for how bad the world is, he wouldn't last fighting against Tudor or any of the other pretenders," Francis disagreed.

"I..." Megan began.

"Ed is a little boy, he's not some piece in a game of chess!" Clara reminded.

"He's going to have to learn if he wants to rule," Jack replied. "He is the son of George of Clarence, a direct blood relation of the House of York."

"I don't want him..." Megan mumbled.

"That may be, but he will be taken advantage of by everyone as a boy king is," Francis pointed out. "He's afraid of his own shadow, I've seen him, I see how withdrawn he was before he became the ward of Richard and Anne, I've seen him gain a slight confidence, but it's not enough! He won't be able to cope with what's happened."

"So what do you suggest?" Jack asked.

"We put you forwards as Tudor's challenger from the House of York, it wouldn't hurt to have Ed by our side to appeal to those loyal to that side of the family, but you are the kingship material," Francis implored.

"Excuse me, Megan has something to say!" the Doctor declared. He smiled encouragingly at the girl who was suddenly fell silent and defensive, as the room looked upon her. "Go on say what you need to, he is your brother after all."

Megan took a breath and spoke. "He is only ten years old, but has already lost our parents, Aunt Anne and now Uncle Richard, and now you want to take gamble with his life? Has he not been through enough at his age? What's the point of a stupid crown if it costs us everything and everyone we love?"

Francis sighed with a look of resignation.

"Because we are linked to that crown and there are those who will kill us because of it," Jack muttered. "Don't you see, Megan, we have to do this, so does Ed, eventually."

"He can do it when he's old enough, and right now he's not!" Megan exclaimed.

Jack looked at Francis, who cracked a smile and nodded.

"She's right," the older man said.

"So Megan and Ed will go to Burgundy," the Doctor confirmed. "Bess and Cecily will be kept seperately, and you two will lead the resistance?"

"That's correct," Francis said, rising. "Jack, I think it's time you take Ed and bring him here, so the Doctor and Clara can take these two to safety. Take Megan with you."

Jack took his younger cousin by the hand and walked out leaving the three together. Francis waited until the two were out of the hallway before slowly closing the door. He took a long sigh.

"I dreamed of Richard dying," he croaked. "I dreamed that he made a reckless charge at Tudor, while William Stanley hacked him down from his horse."

"I'm so sorry, Francis," Clara said.

"Don't be, my friends," Francis assured, a tear coming to his eye. "After Anne died, he became a different man, being unable to properly grieve. I always worried he would do something too reckless, and I couldn't help him.

"But you two did something that brought him back. Richard might have died, but his last act wasn't a futile charge, and I think I find that strangely comforting." He turned to face them, the moonlight falling on his face, extending on his eyes that looked into Clara and the Doctor's, eyes that engraved the sincerity of the words and the wistful smile that followed.

"Dickon was very blessed to have friends like you, and so was I, so am I," Francis continued. "I know there are somethings you cannot change, but the little things you did they meant the most. Like your leaf, Clara."

Clara nodded uncertainly, before she could ask if Richard had told him, Francis shook his head.

"All things must come to an end, and so must this. I suppose that this is goodbye. Goodbye Doctor, Earl of Gallifrey; goodbye Lady Clara." He streched out his hand and the Doctor shook it. The viscount took Clara's hand, bowed and kissed it.

"Goodbye Francis," Clara said. "And thank you."

"Good luck, my friend," the Doctor said. "For the future, and for the days ahead."

Francis opened the door for them and looked like he was about to say something. "Likewise Doctor," he said simply. "Likewise."

The French style gardens of Burgundy were supposed to be amongst the most beautiful in the world, but Clara floated through them like a ghost with a heavy heart, as she climbed back through the doors of the TARDIS, with the Doctor following behind. They had delivered Edward and Margaret Plantagenet to their remaining aunt in Burgundy, who had graciously accepted them and thanked them for their service.

Meg had beseeched them to regale the story of how her brother had died. The Doctor preferred to see it as the story of how Richard had lived to his final moments and beyond. Meg had listened intently and at the end asked the two to promise her to never forget that story of how Richard had lived.

During the journey to Burgundy, Ed was asleep for most of it. Megan had clearly seen the interior but was too overwhelmed with quiet pain to comment. The Doctor had tried to comfort her and asked her if she wanted to sleep, but Megan had her own questions.

"This is for our safety, isn't it?" she had asked. "Just for the time being?"

"Are you having doubts, Megan?" the Doctor had responded.

"No, it's just that I don't want to hide forever."

"Well, maybe you won't have to hide, maybe you'll go back," the Doctor had said quietly. "Or maybe Burgundy will be your new and better life."

"My uncle didn't hide away from his enemies, he faced them."

Clara had sighed, sensing Jack de la Pole there.

"I know, Megan, but if you're too reckless, you and your brother can be executed by your enemies, so just be careful," the Doctor had advised.

"I will be. But if they want to execute me, I won't go meekly, I won't! I'll refuse to kneel and I will fight them just like my uncle did!" Megan had declared.

The Doctor had not only been surprised by this change of tone, but Clara could tell he was saddened. "You are your uncle's niece," he had croaked before getting up.

Now that was done, their goodbyes were said. Clara dreaded asking the next question, but the silence of not knowing was even more excruciating. Megan and Ed were no longer two people in a history book, but real, living children who the Doctor and Clara had just left behind. Real children who had smiled, laughed, cried and played with them.

"What happens to them?" Clara asked as the TARDIS flew into a steady orbit.

"Clara," he protested.

"Please, Doctor, I need to know, the whole truth," Clara insisted.

The Doctor sighed. "They eventually go back, when Ed is old enough. He, Jack and Francis attempt to retake the throne. Jack is killed in battle, Francis presumably too... Ed doesn't get to even wield a sword before he is taken captive and executed by Henry VII."

Clara nodded, expecting as much, but each word struck her heart nonetheless.

"Megan survives as far as Henry VIII, but is later remotely linked to a conspiracy, and the king is becoming very paranoid and jealousy guards his throne. He orders for her arrest, all because of a tapestry produced by Thomas Cromwell supposedly implicating her. A few years later she is ordered to be executed.

"Megan stays true to her word: she refuses to go with the executioner, she refuses to kneel and has to be forced. Even after the first chop, she-"

"Doctor!" Clara cried out. "Please!" Clara was shaking with tears, as she curled up on the stairs of the TARDIS.

The Doctor, to his credit, got of the main platform and sat right next to his friend, before holding her firmly yet comfortingly with his arms. "I'm so sorry, Clara, I wish I could tell you otherwise. But the point is, Megan was defiant until the end."

"Yeah," she croaked, drying her tears and composing herself. "The little things we did made some difference." Though she looked unsure. "Right, Doctor?"

The Doctor's eyes wanted to release those tears, but he swallowed and took a deep breath. "The curse of the Time Lord is knowing you can't save some people and it's hard. Don't wollow in mourning for the dead, cherish the living. That means you, your family, Archie and Angie, and all those other people that are alive."

Clara nodded, considering that he was right. The Doctor was over 900 years old, how often had he been forced to let go of the dead? He was now looking it her straight with those genuine and sincere eyes. The same eyes that warmed her heart when he had asked her if she felt safe travelling with him. The answer was yes, emotionally and physically. Cherish the living, that's right, she thought.

She pecked him on the cheek, next to his mouth, and he was returning the affection, and it felt right- what else could they do when the people they had grown to love were dying, but cherish the living?

They broke apart without igniting too much passion and Clara leaned into an embrace, where she tucked underneath the Doctor's chin and let out a heavy sigh. "What now?"

"I need to stop over in Portugal and deliver something to Donatella Meduro and then we'll stop over at your timezone.

"Why?"

"Because we have something very important to do there."

The hum of engines sounded like a growl to Clara's ears as she marched through the streets of Leicester with the Doctor at her side. The Time Lord had today exchanged his bow tie for a sombre black neck tie.

Clara wore a black dress with a blazer jacket, on the lapel was a small white rose, akin to what many of the spectators were wearing.

A tower clock chimed at the hour and the crowds fell into a respectful silence. Clara saw the Doctor wave a psychic paper to a carriage master, who swiftly handed the reins over to them.

A black car slowly emerged behind them and came to a steady halt. An elderly man in a black tweed jacket and beret with a white falcon stood before the boot. He supported himself on a cane, but called in a loud Yorkshire accent: "Bearer party, stand by!" A group of men in falcon berets stood to attention. "Three steps forwards; lift the coffin! Full turn! Step forwards eight steps!" The pallbearers edged towards the carriage, placing the coffin of their friend on the back, and the carriage pulled away en route to Leicester Cathedral.

Our friend, Clara pondered. To all these people here- the bearers, the spectators, the woman who had found him under the car park months ago, and even his supporters- he was a just a historical figure, who they have read, heard and debated about.

But to us, he is our friend Dickon. Who we spoke with, dined with, laughed and cried with, saw deep into his soul, fought alongside and were with him in his final moments. And now he's gone. Clara realised she was shedding silent tears, she quickly tried to wipe them away but the Doctor, luckily only the Doctor, saw. He comforted her with a smile and held her hand, like a warm buzz or a hum in the deafening silence, and she smiled back.

In the cathedral, the pallbearers took the coffin and lay it to rest, while a choir sang hyms over Richard's body. The vicar gave a service about finally being able to rest in peace.

"To honour my namesake, we have Professor Sirius Keeper, from the University of Leicester, who would like to share with us a discovery that is fitting for Richard's funeral," the Duke of Gloucester announced after a while. "Let me hand you over to Professor Keeper."

It was then the old man with the black tweed jacket, who had commanded the bearing party took the podium. For one moment, it seemed like his eyes glanced at the Doctor and Clara as they were seated in the pughs, but he quickly darted his eyes to the other end.

"Ladies and gentlemen, about two years ago, over five centuries after that fateful day on Bosworth Field, we discovered what were the remains of King Richard III. Since then there has been a surge of fascination into the life and death of this man. Here, at Leicester Cathedral where we bury Richard once more, I find it fitting to share a discovery with yourselves, for the whole nation and world to see.

"With me, I have a copy of a contemporary letter that was archived by Donatella Meduro in Portugal, however, for a long time this was ignored because Ms Meduro was a woman and considered ignorant of these things. I, for one, am really thankful for her efforts, despite all that. It is a letter written by the Earl of Gallifrey, speaking about Richard."

Clara looked wide eyed towards the Doctor, who winked at her. She guessed that's what his stop in Portugal involved and now it was confirmed.

"Many who write about King Richard III, of the House of Plantagenet, have never met him or do not know him personally. I have had the fortune to see Richard on his darkest of days, and the blessing of having him by my side through one of my bleakest of hours.

"Far from being an ambitious, usurping and cruel murderer, he was a man with his flaws, but a good man. A man we can all learn from about loyalty, love, courage and honour. His personal motto was 'loyalty binds me'; I write this today because I too am bound by loyalty.

"On the 22nd day of August 1485 Richard Plantagenet, along with Sirs Robert Brackenbury, Richard Ratcliffe, James and Robert Harrington, Michael Mason, Thomas Huddleston and William Catesby, set out because of loyalty. Richard gave his life to save a very dear friend of mine. He chose to do that instead of becoming a slave to a tyrant of a puppet master. He chose to do that knowing he would most likely die and what would be written about him for generations. He chose to do that because his people meant more to him than his crown.

"He had the heart of a king and this heart and soul were bound by loyalty."

As Keeper read on, his voice broke at some points. When he reached the end, visible tears fell from his eyes, tears that the Doctor and Clara shared. In that moment, the old professor looked up and shared a definite and wistful gaze with the Doctor and Clara, as the congregation gave a golfer's applause. He nodded.

After the service, the two excused themselves from the after drinks and made to head back to the TARDIS, as the red glow in the sky signalled the setting of the sun, akin to that moment at Bosworth when Richard said goodbye to them.

"So, where to now?" the Doctor asked softly.

Clara looked at him sadly, that question confirming the inevitable: the sun was setting on this chapter of their lives. She wondered how glorious it must be for the Doctor to meet and know all these people from the past, present and future, yet so painful knowing eventually he will have to say goodbye- to her included. That thought stung.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

Clara forced herself to smile and nodded.

"Clara."

She sighed. "No, but I will be. Doctor, I think we should go to my home."

"Home?" the Doctor said.

"Not Maitlands' home, but my home up North," she explained. "Home, home. But not forever, no, no, just a stop over," she elaborated quickly as she saw the Doctor's worried face. "I just need to see my dad, you should come... if you want."

The Doctor grinned, for he thought for a moment he was already losing her. He had just said goodbye to one friend, he didn't need to say it to another. But no, his feisty and bubbly Clara was still here.

"What's so funny?" Clara demanded, making him grin even brighter.

"Home home, but not forever, with your dad? Why thank you Clara Oswald; I accept your invitation!"

"Answer me this- who was that man, who read out the letter?"

"I have no idea, but that's a story for another day!" the Doctor waved off.

"Don't you know it's rude to talk about someone behind their back?" a voice scolded.

"Professor Keeper!" the Doctor exclaimed, both turned to face him with a panicked look, but the old man gave a warm smile.

"Don't tell me you don't recognise me?" he said. "Have I really aged that badly?

"The last time we spoke, I told you that I was blessed to have friends like you," he continued.

"Francis?" Clara cried as the penny dropped and echoed through the sky, she then her arms around him, and then the Doctor jumped up in joy and joined in the hug. By some miracle Francis Lovell was stood before them and alive!

"Dearie me, I'm still an old man!" Francis cried out.

"How?" the Doctor asked. "You're like 600 years old!"

"And you're 1000 years old!" Francis shot back. "You chose the name: Doctor, why? Because you made a promise to heal the sick. I chose to be the Keeper because that's my calling, to keep custody of the truth about Dickon."

"But, but, that means you're a Time Lord?" Clara questioned excitedly. "You are, aren't you?"

"Part Time Lord," the Keeper corrected. "I have been here, in the shadows, for a long while, until I decided I fancied myself as a legendry warrior. After being impaled with a lance at the Battle of Stoke, I was forced to regenerate and realise that I was meant to keep the truth safe, to gather knowledge and information as many around me spread ignorance and falsehoods. Then a day would come hundreds of years from now when I would share what the truth I had guarded, when the world was ready."

"But that means there's two of us!" the Doctor exclaimed jovially. "Two of us with similar goals, similar promises, from the same planet- how could I not have seen that? Why didn't you say what you were sooner?"

"Because I wanted to keep that secret, even from you, Doctor," the Keeper admitted.

The Doctor froze and his enthusiasm deflated like a balloon loosing air. "I see."

"It was nothing personal, my friend, I had my reasons, my own work to do!" the Keeper explained.

"Work you gave several lives, centuries and generations to do?" Clara said. "Richard would have been really proud."

The Keeper smiled, but then his eyes glistened. "Work that is done now."

"What do you mean?" the Doctor said.

The Keeper sighed. "For hundreds of years, I have worked to protect the truth about Bosworth, what happened between Richard and Macabrius. Now it's time for others to take the helm, and the time for me to sail. Everyone must accept their time will end, and I know mine has.

"It's not as bad as it seems," he justified, seeing the sadness in Clara and the Doctor's eyes, as they were reining back the tears. "We are all stories, if you think about it- stories that we write and act, stories that others tell of us long after we return to the dust."

"And that's part of our legacy," the Doctor croaked.

"Aye," the Keeper assented. "And this chapter in my story is coming to an end, but this spark will inspire thousands of other stories- including those of you two."

"So what now?" Clara whispered.

"Now, we must accept that this is the end of this road for me, my friends," the older man said softly. "If you want to do something for me, remember me, remember Richard and all those friends you have made- keep our stories alive. Goodbye, Lord Gallifrey, and Lady Clara." The jubilation that the two had felt came descending to the ground after only minutes high in the clouds- this was the real goodbye that Francis would share with them.

The Keeper turned to leave, he felt overwhelmed that this was over, his centuries of hard work being what drove him. Living on had lost it's novelty when all his loved ones- Anna, Richard, Ratcliffe, Jack and even Megan and Ed had died and left him to float through life. At least Richard got only one year of agony before he found Anne- I want that... I want it so bad... He quickly scuttled away, before the Doctor and Clara could see his tears.

"Wait!" the impossibly stubborn girl called after him. "What if there's something you can do for us? What if you still have work?"

"You're too kind, my dear," the Keeper said. "I am an aging man, already past my prime, having already done what I was here to do-"

"No, listen!" Clara snapped. "You told me it's the little things that can mean the most, right, you told me that when we left for Burgundy? Do one thing for me, come with me back home. I'll tell my dad to save another seat for our table. Tell us of some of your stories!"

Her voice was breaking as she spoke, but the Keeper's voice was inaudible when he tried to speak, and he had to force his throat clear.

The Doctor and Clara looked into the eyes of the Keeper and saw Francis Lovell looking back, smiling and shining with a tear. Through those eyes, they saw the snapshots of the stories in his soul, of Richard, of his family, of one Dame of Maitland and Earl of Gallifrey, and of 500 years of patience, bereavement and waiting.

The final splendour of the setting sun brought a natural spotlight on Francis. "Aye, I could that. For one more story, one more adventure!"

THE END

Author's Note: Thank you once again, to every single one of you- you're support, criticism, reviewing and favouriting really helped me to write this. So thank you.

But now is the end of this story. It's not perfect, but I hope it inspires your own stories, not just on FanFiction. :)

I did not plan anything with the Keeper until the last minute! Who else knew it was Francis? Historically, he disappeared after the Battle of Stoke. Some say he had died, others say he fled to Scotland or Burgundy, but purely for the purpose of this verse: he regenerated.

For the next few uploads it will normally be fluff I work on, I need that, and then I'll continue Lone Cats and Wolf Pack. Once again, thank you so much and Happy New Year!

Please let me know what you think.