Endurance

This was inspired by the dinner scene between Anne and Henry in Season 2, Episode 6: The Definition of Love.

"You must shut your eyes and endure, like your betters have done before you."

"Will you come to my bed tonight?"

An intimate dinner was prepared for the King and Queen in the Queen's chambers. The usual pomp was absent, the King and Queen sharing but a modest table dressed with faint candlelight. The ladies in waiting served the royals and bowed quietly, gracefully out of the room. It was only after her attendants left that Queen Anne voiced her query.

Henry stared blankly at Anne. He took a sip of his wine and shook his head slowly. "No." He sounded pointedly disinterested. In effort to hide her chagrin, Anne drew a breath and raised her chalice to her lips. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, and the couple endured a painfully silent dinner. Henry had no objection to the silence; he had much on his mind and little to say. Instead he sat across from his wife, filling and refilling his cup with wine as the evening wore on. Anne searched for something to say, something to garner Henry's attention, but in the end she held her tongue.

So quiet was their evening that Anne was startled when Henry excused himself. He stood abruptly and gulped down the last of his wine, slamming the goblet on the table. She looked up at him, searching, hoping he might reconsider her offer, but Henry said nothing as he strode out of the room.

After the evening rituals of preparing for sleep, Anne excused her attendants and thought briefly of climbing into her bed. She stared at the voluminous pile of pillows and blankets, but could think only of how lonely it looked. Henry had not visited her bedchamber in weeks and she longed for his touch, as well as the reassurance his presence would bring. While she spent her days worrying about Elizabeth's legitimacy and her own duties as Queen, she spent her nights worrying about the marital duties she was no longer sought to perform. There was once a time when Henry's appetite for her was nothing short of voracious; there was a time when he wanted her fully, completely, unashamedly.

Feeling her frustration turn to sadness, she ventured into her main chamber and briefly considered distracting herself with a book. Instead, the glowing fireplace captured her attention and she watched it, mesmerized. Anne tried desperately to clear her mind of Henry and Elizabeth and the legitimacy of her marriage, of Katherine and her damned daughter Mary. Her thoughts then turned to Henry's affairs, bringing a new wave of nausea that forced her to take a seat.

With no need to fight them away, Anne allowed hot tears to fall down her cheeks. Softly, quietly, Anne cried, covering her face with her hands. The entire world could stand in opposition to her and she would care not, so long as Henry stood with her. They were once a united front, Anne and Henry; they were once the best and worst in each other all at once. But now, the King's icy demeanor and distance confirmed her fears that he was losing interest in his Queen.

Footsteps in the adjacent corridor broke her concentration and she hurriedly wiped the tears from her face, breathing deeply to calm herself. Anne listened intently, noting the rustle of fabric that accompanied the footsteps. As the visitor drew nearer, Anne turned to face the doorway.

At last, Lady Margaret Sheldon appeared. Lady Sheldon cleared her throat before meekly addressing Anne. "Majesty?"

"Yes?"

"The King is here."

Note: This is my first attempt at Tudors fic, so if you spot any glaring errors please feel free to point them out. Thanks for reading!