**Due to the lack of any Thomas Cromwell-Anne Boleyn fics, I felt compelled to contribute.
AU universe-don't freak out. I changed some things up. Does not follow TV series. I don't own the Tudors, though I wish I owned a certain Privy Seal. Mmm...Cromwell. Enjoy. **
Summer 1533
The sky was clear and blue above Hever Castle. However, Anne Boleyn's mood was quite the opposite. Silent and apprehensive, she moved quickly through her house, determined to avoid her father for as long as possible. She reached her bedchamber and darted inside, bolting the door behind her. She marched over to her window and tried to think. However focus eluded her. She had heard rumors about her sister; rumors that disturbed her to say the least. And if they were true, Anne was sure things would go badly for her.
What could have happened to Mary to make her write home so suddenly? She has been at the King's court for five months now, with nary a word.
She sighed deeply and began pacing her room, desperate for something to ease her mind. As she tried to think, a loud knock was heard at her door, followed by her father's harsh voice. Anne reluctantly moved to unlock the door and barely had time to move her slight form out of the way before her father stormed in, panting and fuming.
"I have looked everywhere for you, girl", Thomas Boleyn snarled, "My patience with you and your childish games of hiding is at an end."
Anne's father was a solid middle-aged man with gray hair and cunning eyes. He had a malicious temperament and a calculating mind. He wore oversized robes to make himself look more intimidating to his enemies and his lessers, a fact which helped de-humanize her father. Boleyn was not a father that had his children's well-being in mind. He used his own children for his own means to an end. He was most certainly a man not to be underestimated.
Eager to diffuse the situation, Anne strategically played to her father's egotistical side.
"Father, I hear you are to be made Earl of Wiltshire in honor of the service you have given the King. That is a wonderful accomplishment!"
Her plan seemed to backfire, however, when Boleyn's eyes darkened.
"You would think so, but because of your sister, our family could be in ruins very soon. You have no idea of what she has done, do you? "
Anne paled, fearing the worst. She had heard tales of the King's flippancy and irrational temper. However, her fear shifted quickly into anger as her father divulged the whole sordid tale to her and how with Mary's failure, the Boleyn family will look to Anne to secure their political power. Anne was beyond frustrated. She had always known it was just a matter of time before her father used her as a pawn in his twisted political schemes. She had hoped she could escape her father's machinations when her elder sister, Mary, caught the eye of the King. Anne had prayed to be overlooked, to be allowed to live a life she wished to live, without expectations. However, her hope was short-lived, as her sister turned out to be just another mistress, used up and thrown away by King Henry VIII of England. Anne truly loathed the King, though she knew better than to speak her mind, but she despised him and everything he stood for. The young twenty-five year old king had been ruling barely a decade and was ridiculously spoilt, in Anne's eyes. He must be exceedingly arrogant to assume he can just bed any woman that walked in front of him. The nerve of that man! He thinks that just because he is King every woman in Britain is just dying to leap into his bed.
"Well, here is one woman who is not!!" Anne exclaimed vehemently. He probably does not even know what love truly is. And that is what Anne longed for. Love extending beyond the bedchamber. Love for her spirit and her mind, not just her body. But with a father like hers, having such dreams was a waste of time.
"Anne! Anne, are you listening to me?" Anne was snapped out of her reverie by several harsh shakes of the shoulder. She turned her sharp gaze to her father and tried to piece together what he was saying.
"What do you mean? The King has turned Mary out from court?" she asked sharply. Anne moved to stand by her window, knowing what was to come next, but dreading it all the same.
"Your sister has lost the favor of the King, so therefore you are to become this family's means to achieve our goal. Just think Anne, if he likes you well enough…if you can keep him interested, you could become his royal mistress…perhaps someday Queen! If you can accomplish this, our family will be rewarded and honored above all." Boleyn's eyes took on a sinister gleam as he appraised his youngest child. "If you could conceive a male child, our position would be indisputable."
Anne clenched her fists and whirled around to retort, only to find her father has lessened the distance between them and was now towering above her petite 5'5 form. As if anticipating her response, Boleyn roughly grabbed her by her collar and pushed her back against the window.
"You will do this, Anne. It is not about you, it is for your family", he hissed at her, "you may not be as pretty as Mary, but your charm and wit may very well make up for it. Keep the King entertained." His unmistakable threat lay close to the surface of his words.
Anne squeezed her eyes shut to stop the tears. Her father was a frightening man when his prestige and wealth were at risk. He was willing to sacrifice his daughter's happiness for his ambition. She shook herself free of her father's unforgiving grasp and moved to the table in the center of her ever shrinking room. She gripped the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white, and she knew what she must do. She could not escape, she must obey. Her blue eyes bright with unshed tears, she turned to face her father, resolute.
"If that is your will, Father." She replied icily.
Anne bowed stiffly and bolted from the room, anxious to be anywhere but there, her long brown curls flying behind her. She ran as she had never run before. She fled from her house and across the green meadow to the border of the forest which surrounded her house. Daring from a young age, Anne swept up her skirts and climbed the nearest oak tree. Determined to not act her 23 years of age, she planned on never coming down. However, she soon realized this was not to be her most brilliant of plans, for though the skies had been clear not an hour before, they were most certainly a threatening black now. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Anne shivered as the whole weight of her father's plan can crashing down on her. She would be made to seduce the King, a snake like charmer, who would most like use and abuse her as he had her sister. Anne was not so blind as to miss the faint bruises on Mary's upper arms and legs when she had visited months past. Whether they were from violent discussions or violent love-making, Anne cared not. Filled with these dark thoughts, she trudged towards her home just as the rain began to pour.
Damn England, with its damn weather and its damn King. She thought blackly. Soaked to the core, Anne slipped into her room before her father could berate her for endangering her now "precious" life. She immediately moved toward the fire, dutifully set by her chambermaids. Slowly she peeled off her soaked layers and hung them by the fire. She grabbed a towel and went to stand in front of her mirror. Examining her pink cheeks and slightly fevered head, Anne tried to pat her hair dry. Her thoughts returned to her father.
"Oh, the insufferable man!" She thought out loud. He had even had the gall to insult her looks. She knew full well that she couldn't rival Mary's enticing brown eyes, so dark they literally pulled men in, or her silky golden curls. To Anne's smaller petite frame, Mary was taller and more curvaceous, with an extremely ample bosom. Sometimes Anne felt as though they were not even sisters. Anne tilted her head to the side, looking herself over. She wasn't ugly, she thought to herself.
Besides, I want to be loved for myself, not my chest. She thought rebelliously.
With a shake of her head, she went to bed with her melancholy thoughts, only to dream of a faceless man trying to reach her.
Anne! Stay with me!
Alarmed, Anne awoke with a start as lightning streaked across the sky. She moved to the side of the bed and splashed cold water from her basin into her face.
"What was that?" She asked herself. All of this nonsense about men has my head spinning.
She fell back to sleep, her dreams full of this faceless man with his panicked voice, unaware of what the next day would bring her.
The following morning Thomas Boleyn ordered the house to be closed and all of their things made ready to be moved to court. Anne was distraught at the speed with which her father was moving to place her in front of the King of England. Honestly, Anne was frightened. Besides being a notorious ladies man, Anne had heard that the King had a horrible temper and has seen the evidence of his instability in the bruises dealt to her sister, Mary. She was well aware that the King was not afraid to put even the closest of those around him to death, should the fancy ever strike him.
The only good thing to come out of that morning was the arrival of her sister Mary. Mary was to return to Hever Castle indefinitely, following her banishment from court. Her father wanted nothing more to do with her, perceiving her to be the "disappointment" of the family. Anne, however was overjoyed, and rushed to greet her beloved sister as soon as she recognized her form step from the carriage. Anne was greeted with smiles and a tight embrace.
"Mary! Oh, I have missed you so!" Anne said happily. She stood a little taller to whisper in her sister's ear. "You have no idea how unbearable it has been with only Father and George around." Mary smiled sympathetically. They both knew their brother could be as bad as their father when they were together. Luckily, George was just left for court, to help the Boleyn family progress in the eyes and favor of the King. Anne was so relieved to see her sister, her true friend and ally, that she was more than willing to forget all of the issues between them. Anne had greatly disapproved when Mary had become His Majesty's bedmate. She loved her sister, dearly, but Anne secretly sided more with the plight of Queen Katherine, who silently stood by as her young husband had his affairs. Anne greatly believed in being faithful to the one you love, and that was what horrified her even more about what her father wanted her to do.
"My dear, dear Anne, I am so happy to see you looking so well." Gushed Mary as she played with Anne's long braid.
Anne clasped Mary's hand anxiously and began to pull her towards the house.
"Sister, we have much to discuss. Things have happened since news of what happened between you and King reached here. Father has adapted his plan and things are progressing quickly. I desperately need your support."
Mary, instantly solemn, nodded and followed Anne inside. Anne explained what she was now ordered to do, against her will and heart, and waited for Mary's reaction. She was not disappointed. Mary ranted and raved in true Boleyn fashion, at the injustice to Anne and the lack of faith her father held for her. Once they both had said their peace and could say nor do no more at the present; Mary promised Anne she would be there to give her advice and to try to get her out of this predicament. Anne bravely smiled and decided to change the subject to the topic that had always interested her: The inner workings of the royal court. Because of the growing wave of Protestantism and the threat the Catholic Church saw it as; Anne always bothered Mary for information regarding politics and religion. Anne was a follower of this new found faith, secretly, and she desperately wished for the fall of the Catholic Church. To lighten the mood Anne resorted to it now.
"Tell me, sister, what news of the court?
"Ah, my dear Anne, you will be most surprised to learn that His Lord Privy Seal, Sir Thomas More has resigned. He said that the King's growing sympathies with the Lutherans went against his conscience. His Majesty replaced Sir Thomas More with a man who has no noble blood, probably an undercover Lutheran spy!"
Anne's heart unconsciously leapt in her chest and for some strange reason she thought of her faceless man.
"Tell me Mary, what is his name?" she asked curiously.
Mary paused, as if to recall his name and then flippantly waved her hand.
"Someone called Thomas Cromwell."