Author's Notes - Ok... so I found this plot bunny and it wouldn't leave me alone... I altered the timeline a little here. In the series, by the time this happens, Katherine is already dead. Not in this story, cause this will once again be a H/K story. Anyways, this was based on the plot bunny for Henry to have amnesia and thinks he's 18 again and married to Katherine. The joust seemed a good way for this to happen, so here it is. Hope you all enjoy.
"His Majesty, the king has entered the list and will now joust à la plaisance with Sir Henry Norris!"
Drums rumbled and the audience applauded politely as the king, in his shining armor and riding atop his favored white jousting horse, galloped on the list. The king raised his fist several times in the air, clearly indicating his determination to become the victor of this match.
"Do you have any idea why the queen chose not to attend the tournament today?" Charles queried in a low tone to his wife, applauding the king as he returned to his side of the field to ready himself for the joust.
"I was told she wished to avoid the excitements of the tournament that might harm the unborn child," Catherine replied, gazing over at the empty stand reserved for the royal couple. Before Charles could reply, the flag fell and both the king and Norris spurred their horses. Sand flew beneath the animals hooves, and lances were lowered and aimed at each other. A loud crash echoed throughout the stands as Norris' lance hit the king's shield on target. The white horse holding the king staggered beneath the blow and before anyone could react, it fell hard against the wooden beams separating the jousting lanes. The beams gave way with a crack and horse and rider fell to the ground, the rider half- buried underneath his horse.
Horrified, the crowd gasped, many of them rising to their feet to get a better look. The horse managed to pick it's self up and trot away but the king lay unmoving in the sand. Not hesitating for a second, Charles rushed forward, pushing various people out of the way in an effort to reach the king. "Is he dead? Is he dead?" George Boleyn's voice could be heard as if from a distance, though the other man was ahead of him.
Before George could kneel down to check the king, Charles shoved him roughly out of the way. "Let other's help him, you can't," he growled out, taking his place and kneeling in the sand beside the king. With the help of one of the royal physicians, the two men gently moved the king to lie on his back. With trembling fingers, Charles undid the lacings holding the helmet in place and removed it. His eyes were closed and blood ran down the side of the king's face, he noted dimly.
With the utmost care, the physician reached under the armor to check the king's pulse. Minutes seemed to run together endlessly before the man looked at the duke with utter worry creasing his features. "Take him, with all care, into the pavilion, where I may serve him better," he ordered, gesturing impatiently, "and pray for him!"
It was several days before the king woke at last. Dazed and utterly confused, he blinked his eyes open and gazed around. What had happened? He couldn't seem to remember a thing. His body felt like one giant bruise and his head throbbed painfully. A servant he didn't recognize gasped upon seeing him awake and ran quickly away, yelling for Dr. Linacre. When the doctor finally scurried into the room, he'd managed to slowly and painfully prop himself up on his pillows. "Your Majesty, really, you should not over exert yourself," he chided, rushing at once to the king's side. "You've had a very great fall."
Confused, Henry stared at the older gentleman. "I fell?" He repeated, looking at his doctor in confusion.
"Yes, Majesty, in the joust with Sir Norris," the doctor replied slowly before a thought finally occurred to him. "You do not recall? Tell me, sire, what is the last thing you can remember? For instance, what is the year?"
"Don't play games with me, Doctor, it's 1509 of course," Henry replied, frowning at the look on the other man's face. "Where is Katherine? Where is my wife? If I fell, she must be worried. Send her to me at once."
"Of course, your Majesty," Dr. Linacre replied softly, bowing his head in deference before exiting the room.
"Well, what news?" Thomas Boleyn demanded almost the instant the doctor stepped out of the king's bedchambers. He, along with Suffolk and Seymour, had hardly left their positions in the privy chamber just outside the king's rooms whilst they waited for the king to come to his senses.
"My lord, it seems that his majesty has sustained an injury to the head," the doctor began, "he seems to be in perfect health except for one small matter…"
"What small matter?" Suffolk piped up, rising from his seat. "You said he seems in perfect health, so what is it?"
"Your Grace, his Majesty thinks it is 1509 and that he has just married the Dowager Princess," Linacre told them, a helpless shrug lifting his shoulders. "He has asked to see her."
"What should we do?" John Seymour questioned, looking between Thomas and Charles. If his daughter could not displace Anne, better for him to go back to Katherine, he reasoned silently to himself. "Should we send for the Dowager?"
"What say you, Your Grace?" The title stuck like a craw in Charles' jaw but he managed. "Shall we send for her?"
"Gentleman, it could do more harm than good," Linacre cautioned gently but Boleyn waved him off with an impatient gesture.
"It looks as though we have no choice but to do so," he mused, rubbing a hand down his face. "We cannot tell Her Majesty about this, we cannot allow anything to endanger the future heir."
Seeing that he would not win, Linacre bowed to their will. This is not going to end well, he mused as the other men made plans to bring Katherine from The More.