Ok, so this is a short fic about Henry's thoughts before and after the execution of Anne Boleyn. Please R&R, even though it's short, and a bit...well, lacking in focus.
I own nothing, funnily enough.
She's guilty, officially. Of course, since I am King, it doesn't matter whether she is guilty in truth. After all, I AM the King. My will is God's will, or so Wolsey told me. Or was it Anne that first told me that? Funny, how much they despised each other, how much they sought each other's ruin, yet how similar they are...were. Both had strong, even extreme views and opinions. Both tried to do their best for me – I see that now – but ended up failing, and failing spectacularly. Wolsey, who fought tirelessly on my behalf, started to champion Katherine's cause, while Anne, who promised me everything a wife can give a man, killed my son. Her toxic body poisoned my innocent, unborn son.
Both were arrested on charges of treason, when they could not fulfil their great promises. The main difference was that Anne stood trial for the treason she didn't commit, while Wolsey didn't have to answer for the treason he did commit. Anne will stand up in front of her peers, men who have bowed and scraped to her, men who have promised undying devotion to her as their Queen, and she will bare her neck in front of these invited peers. She will bare her beautiful, long, white neck and a Frenchman – how fitting – will wield a sword and forever mar the creamy white skin by separating beautiful, tempting head from neck. Anne's dark, dancing eyes will lose their light, and her voice, her husky, slightly French voice, will soon be only a memory in my dreams, and in the dreams of Elizabeth...but only for a while.
Elizabeth. Elizabeth, the child I staked all my hopes on. I broke with Rome for her. I cast aside Katherine for her. And what will she take from her mother? Will it be her hair, her raven's wing hair? No, for her hair is as red as mine, as red as any Tudor's. There is no chance she is any other man's.
Will it be the eyes, those eyes that always hold – held – no, hold, a hint of promise? Or the unbreakable spirit – and everyone knows how I tried to break Anne's spirit, but to no avail? Or will Elizabeth possess that which is so dangerous in a woman – the ability to fascinate men so entirely that they are physically unable to think of anything else but her? Seeing the way she charms the members of her household, I find it hard to believe she has not inherited this wonderful gift from Anne.
I also think she'll inherit Anne's wonderful mind, though it remains to be seen whether it will be as sharp as Anne's. I hope it will. Though she will never be called upon to rule – and Jane will have a son, I am sure of it – I hope Anne's spirit lives on in Elizabeth, our issue.
After the execution
She's dead. Her nagging voice will never bother me again. Her bewitching eyes will never cause me to lose myself again. I will never be so humiliated again. But I fear I will never be so loved again.
I am to marry Jane in 9 days time. The length of our courtship amuses me, when I think of how long Anne kept me at bay. How long I waited, and how worth it she was. To own her, body and soul was beyond delight. It was impossible to describe...it was impossible. She was impossible. And now she has learnt that no one says 'no' to their King and gets away with it.
Yes, it is short, and a little lacking in direction towards the end, but I wanted to show how Henry had connected, in his mind, loving and desiring Anne, with having her executed.