O Death, a tudors fanfic

O' DeathO' DeathO' DeathWon't you spare me over til another year

"You've come for me," she said as the stranger walked in.

She heard the familiar chuckle. The laugh she had not heard for over five hundred years ago. Her heart lept from her chest. The thought of seeing him made her grip the table in fear.

Would he hate her?

She didn't want to see his face. That loving face that haunted her dreams. She pictured what their son would say if he was here.

But he had said he had wanted to forget their love.

She let the cruel smile cross her lips. This was death's way of a cruel joke. She felt the tear slide down her cheek. Surely he never wanted to see her again. This could not be her king.

"What cruel joke do you play on me death?"

But what is this that I can't see

with ice cold hands taking hold of me?

"Death is a lady," his voice sounded like it had back then; Full of sexual lust and power.

She brought her eyes up. Finally coming face to face with her tormentor. A soft moan escaped her lips as she found his features. He was just as she had pictured him. A picture of complete health. He had fine auburn hair and ice blue eyes like hers. Those eyes that could hook you in and never let you go. The same eyes that had enchanted so many and left them defenseless. She shuddered at his image. The image of the king she had lost so many years ago.

"She would never disguise herself,"

"Then why have you come?" she asked. She was still staring at him. "Why shade have you come to torment me?"

He shook his head at her words. The seductive and loving smile she had grown to love crossed his lips. She wanted to kiss those lips. Oh how her body heated up at the thoughts of their first night together as husband and wife. He had known what to do, had guided her through the steps of love making. Her eyes fell from his godly presence and back to the desk she sat behind.

Was this her punishment for all she had done in her life?

She let her gaze come back up to him. Sucking at her lip she watched as he flexed in the chair. Still a lion in mating, she thought stifling a chuckle.

"I am no shade," he spoke, "I am your choice. The gift given to you from god…. That is if you choose to have me."

His last words surprised her. He had come here out of the love between them.

"You do not hate me?"

He raised his eyebrows. The question had caught her former lover off guard. Then as quickly as the shocked expression had crossed his face had it vanished. Still ever the King with no emotion. She found her composure then.

He is still the man of England. The King that had beheaded her best friend because of that whore.

"What choice did God grant me?"

"A choice between Athain and me," he replied.

His eyes caught hers and did not let go. She wanted to look away from his gaze, but in the end she had been caught by him.

Athain! Where is he?

The man she loved when she was barely a newborn magic. She had been careless to show her mother that she retained any good in her. That had been her first mistake; her second had been to loose Henry; her son. She thought of him then. He was the exact image of the man that sat across the room from her. Except his eyes had been a brighter blue then even hers.

I lost the only thing that reminded me of him. To her!

"Where is our son?" his question caused her to look away.

"He goes by Jonathon now," she said. She cast her eyes to the ground, not daring to show him her shame, "He doesn't want to be called Henry anymore."

"I see," he seemed to be unfazed by her words. Well that was all she could tell by the tone of his voice.

"I'm sorry," she stated trying to hold back a sob, "She got her hooks into him before I could send him away."

She looked up at him and saw that he was not frowning at her. This man before her had changed from the man she had known so many years ago. He seemed to actually care for what she spoke of. She felt the tears rise and fall before she could stop them. She was too proud and as a result she wiped them away too quickly.

"Sweetheart?"

She looked up at him. The pet name he had not called her since that fateful day made her heart wrench with pain. She gasped as she grasped her heart. The pain, it was as if a thousand needled stabbed her heart. She watched as he stood from his place in the corner.

When God is gone and the devil takes holdwho will have mercy on your soul?

Let him love me still.

She felt his strong hands grab her shoulders. At one time they would have been less loving; less caring in the way the held her, but now they were gentle. She was pulled into his chest. She melted then the way she had melted every time she had been held by him. A kiss fell on top of her forehead. She moaned and gripped him tighter. She had been so foolish as to have let him go.

Don't let this be a dream.

"What is your choice?" he asked.

She wasn't going to let go of him just yet. This was too much for her to handle. She felt the heat rise with the lust and want for him. He must have caught on to her body's needs and brought his lips down on to her. She crumbled. The tears flowed freely as the kiss surmounted into more passion. This is what death should feel like, she thought.

O' Death

She forgot about all of her trials; all of the things her and her sister had gone through in the name of God. All that mattered to her was the way she felt now. Happy. She let him have his way. His kiss lengthening. She let his tongue explore her mouth with forgotten passion. They shared each other's heat like they had on that first night.

The night I conceived a son. The night I felt truly in love for the first time.

"My choice," she couldn't think well enough to give a straight answer as his mouth trailed hot kisses across the top of her bosom and across her jaw.

He had always known how to make me melt into his will.

He pulled away. Allowing both of them to compose themselves. She took deep breaths, calming both her nerves and her sexual lust down. She was a full devil now. It could kill him to have sex. But then her womanhood heated at the thought of him entering her again. She stifled a moan at the thought and gazed up at him. He was smiling. His cheeks were red with the blood that had not rushed to his other area. And she knew that he was excited. It had never been a problem between them. A glance downwards and she knew. She let her trademark smile cross her lips.

"Your choice?"

No wealth, no ruin, no silver, no gold

nothing satisfies me but your sou

lO' Death

"You," she said.

He moved towards her then. His entire body tense and ready to entertain her. She let him then. Their bodies pressed against each other.

"Anine…" he whispered in her ear, "You are my rose full of thorns. The queen of them all. The rarest gem and my only true love."

The same words he had said on their wedding night. The same words that had caused her to cry with everything she had. She melted again. Her body going into trembles from the sobs and tears she was letting go of. He knelt before her. She had frightened him; worried him.

I love this man.

"Henry," she whispered, "You are the one man I will always hold in my heart. You open the door to both heaven and hell and I will follow you either way. For in the end I am your slave."

"No…." he said, "You are my Queen"

Well I am Death none can excel

I'll open the door to Heaven or Hell

O' Death