Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
A/N: WARNINGS: Crossover, character death.
Based off the sciencie fiction book "threads" where anne and henry are reincarnated in the future and they meet again.
I want to thank Caro (DarkLadyrosathena1) and AestheticNarcissist with her crazy tomkat pairings, they and doc's fic inspired me to do this though I am not a fan of how this chapter turned out, I hope you all like it.
1536-7
Henry paced back and forward. He threw his cup of wine, it landed next to his fool Will Sommers, too drunk he barely noticed the King's rage was directed at him.
"Why did they, I mean she have to die! Why Will, Why?"
Will Sommers ears made his perked up, drunk and laughing with the crazyness he and His Majesty had created on his Chambers shook his head, how the hell was he supposed to know what the wench Anne Boleyn meant to him! How was he supposed to comfort him, a man who was supposed to be above any man, woman or even their God and Lord Jesus Christ!
The King! Sommers thought wryly, was a man-God, he was the reincarnation of everything Holy and indestructible, he vowed he would become immortal and so he had!
No woman in Christendom had not been aware of his infamous reputation. One wife divorced and died of loneliness, her heart black as night, they said she died of a broken heart, others said she was poisoned. The other one, the one the King cherished once had been beheaded for adultery, treason and witchcraft, and finally the only love of Henry's His Majesty had died of child fever.
Why, oh Why, he heard the King moaning over the name of Jane, it escaped his lips for a moment the name Anne, he admitted to Will under the influence of alcohol that he missed the bewitching Boleyn girl's eyes, her eyes he said fanatically, almost in ecstasy remembering the first time in Calais they'd finally became lovers (in every sense of the world), only a daughter but the King had been gracious, he said they would have more and more and so many sons, but later he turned back to his old mischief with the ladies, like her predecesor Anne could not stand being put aside and she got herself into more trouble. Where Katherine was a powerful woman of noble birth, Anne Boleyn had been a commoner descendant of merchants through her father, she had vice-verse enemies in the higher spheres of power. If only she could've had a Cromwell, Thomas Moore or Emperor Charles V like her major rival Katherine of Aragon, she would not have been so unlucky with her fate.
The Lady's death still carried deep within Henry a regret that had been building up more since Jane Seymour's death, her son's mother. The only woman who had bewitched him, he says, the only woman who posessed the secrets of his heart. His alter ego, his female counterpart, how he missed her bitching, her bewitching smiles, her eyes.
"It will all come to pass Your Majesty ..."
"It all comes to pass" Will Sommers kept repeating but Henry wasn't convinced, he knelt to Will and started weeping for the women who had ever been loyal to him.
It all comes to pass
But what if it did not? What if he would live with this pain for the rest of his life, or worse yet, the next?
HAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJ
Henry VIII had passed away on 1547, his nearly forty year reign had ended in bitter tears, now it would be the boy-King, his precious son's Edward's turn to step up for his father's goverment, he represented Henry and his mother's legacy, and it better be, Henry made him promise on his dying bed, a great Kingdom. His son was all that Henry had, but the salvation for England had not died with Edward as Henry would have thought, quite the contrary it had been carried on by their last descendant, Edward's half sister -Elizabeth I and it was a glorious Kingdom she brought up from the phoenix ashes of Edward and her father's legacy.
HAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJHAHJ
A/N: TOMKAT/JANE/HENRY/ANNE AND MORE CANNON, NON CANNON COUPLES. You won't know exactly (if you are reading this) who Tom, Kat, Anne, Henry, Jane or other tudors are until the middle where each will start remembering small pieces of their past.