Disclaimer: I do not own "The Tudors" or the actual historical people the show is based on. I own the idea though. Please, do not sue me.

Author's Notes: Of all Henry's wives, Jane's always been a favorite – and after her, Anna of Cleves. i don't know why I liked Jane, perhaps it's because there is such a mystery behind her and what she was really like.
Could she really have been a cold and ambitious woman whose luck becoming Queen was timing – and that she died before who she was at heart could be discovered? Or was she really as submissive and quiet as she's been written? Was this by choice, by fear of the King and going against her family, or perhaps, was she just painfully shy as I am? Is it also possible that, far from being illiterate and uneducated, she had some rudimentary education? After all, her first audience with Chapuys was in French ("Six Wives: The Queens of Henry VIII" by David Starkey).
I had wondered if it was possible for Anne and Jane to become friends if they had met before all the hoopla happened. May be I'm too influenced by the Betty and Veronica friendship of Archie comics fame. Anyone who knows the comics may see certain similarities between the two different pairings as I have. I have to admit that "Wicked, the Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West" and the friendship between Elphaba and Galinda (Glinda) also had a hand in it.
But it seems to me possible that they could be friends based on an idea that Anne had formed a friendship with the young Queen Claude of France - a shy, rather plain looking girl when they met. And Claude was rather strict with her court and ignored her husband's philandering ways. What if Jane had come to court about the same time Anne (a Maid of Honor, age 16+) did – as a Maid of the Court, young girls between the ages of 10 and 15? (Anne had been a Maid of the Court to the Archduchess Margaret of Austria before going to the Court of Francis and Claude.)
Thus, this story was born.
I will accept constructive criticism and help for it is the only way to improve as a writer. Flames against me or Queen Jane or Queen Anne will not be tolerated. They will be reported as abuse.

If you do not like nor care for Jane Seymour or Anne Boleyn, this story is not for you. There is a back button, use it.

Historical Notes about the Tudors:
There is some debate about the years the Boleyn children were born in. I chose to have Mary be the eldest and born in the year 1501. George came next in 1504 with Anne bringing up the rear in 1507.
Jane Seymour was born in 1508.
Anne was recalled in 1521, her father arranged for her to join her sister, Mary at Court in 1523 as a Maid of Honor. Jane was there as a Maid of the Court.

***

"You can't leave me, Jane," Anne was hard pressed in keeping her voice steady. Even breathing seemed difficult for her as she listened to the rattling, ragged sound of Jane's breathing in the quiet, still room. "I can't do this alone, don't leave me with the wolves."

There was a discrete cough from the door as the doctor entered. He had been taking care of Jane since she fell ill and felt a great deal of pity for the Queen. Not prone to listen to rumors when he'd first come to Court, he had watched the Queen and the Lady Jane carefully, noting the deep friendship between them. The two were so disparate in personality and religious beliefs that he couldn't quite understand how they had become friends.

And yet, they were good friends. It was puzzling.

"I pray thee, good sir, allow me just a moment more," she pleaded, not moving from her kneeling position. Her dark eyes turned up towards him, beseeching him for a moment of compassion. Of mercy, "Please, I wish to stay with my friend for a few minutes more."

His graying head shook, blue eyes not unkind or unfeeling towards her plight. "I am sorry, your majesty, but the risk to your own health is too great. I cannot allow you to stay any longer."

"Please, sir, she's the only friend I have," she tried to argue, weariness clinging to her. The cause was hopeless, she knew, but she didn't want to leave. Jane hated being alone in a strange place. And this was not the Court palace nor was it White Hall.

"It is too dangerous," he firmly repeated. "Think of your child, the Prince Edward. You do not want him to become ill, do you?"

Anne winced. Edward was sixth months old and still rather frail, ill of health. With a torn sigh, she rose, glancing down at Jane. "Fight death, my friend for I cannot stand alone again. I've grown used to having you by my side." The words were whispered low, only for Jane's ears.

For while she trusted the doctor, she did not trust the walls.

Her close friendship with Jane – a lady so unlike herself – had caused many to regard them with suspicion. Much like the other relationships she had at Court. Should Henry pay heed to the poisonous gossip, there was none to intercede on her behalf. For with the only legitimate son he had in ill health, the last of her supporters had trickled away.

It seemed her only saving grace with the King and the people were the heir – and Jane, both of whom were sick with the illness that had struck much of the Court.

"I pray thee, take care of her," she repeated her earlier plea, though the desire was changed.

"I shall endeavor to do my best," he did not add, though he was aware that she knew, that the fight was in Jane's hands. There was nothing more he could do for her. As with all of the others who had fallen ill, there came a point when the medical mind could do nothing and it was in the hands of God.

Anne swallowed back the sharp retort that instantly sprang to her lips. It was not his fault that Jane was ill. Blame could not be assigned to anyone. The pain twisted deep in her gut at the idea that there was no one to lash out at. Even if it was foolish of her, she really wanted to punish someone for what had happened to those in the Court. "Thank you, Doctor Ford."

"Anne," the name sounded in the room on a voice harsh with disuse, raspy with debilitating coughs, and ugly with the wheezing breaths painfully drawn in.

Yet Anne had never heard a more beautiful sound in her life.

The Doctor reached out a useless hand in an attempt to stop her but she was by the bedside before the first twitch of his hand. A smile fighting its way through tears, "I thought I told you to call me your majesty."

"Humor me," she replied, a cough racking her body.

Doctor Ford intercepted the Queen's move, lifting Jane's head so that she could sip some lukewarm water. "Slowly, now, Lady Jane. Too much and you will set your healing back," he soothed her in a quietly commanding voice. His look was pointed at Anne who – for once – was quick to obey.

Still, she couldn't fight the glee that filled her to have Jane back. "Just this once I shall indulge you," she haughtily informed her.

"Most gracious and kind of you, dear Lady Queen," she murmured.

"I shall return later, to see if you have regained your manners," Anne continued as though Jane hadn't said a word.

Jane finally opened her eyes, a feverish look in the intermingled with affection and laugher. "You will have a long wait then for I have no manners where you are concerned. Something which is entirely your fault," she added.

"We shall see about both of those shocking charges," a smirk twisted her lips. Inclining her head to the doctor, she left. Pausing only once at the door to look one more time at Jane, she shook her head at the sight of the young woman, nearly swallowed up in the bed covers. A soft smile crossed her face as she thought about the shy girl she considered dearer than family – even closer to her than George, her beloved brother.

Who could have guessed that Jane, being so shy, could temper her fiery steel so much? For had anyone dared to mention the possibility of it to her when they had first met, she would have considered them more than ready for bedlam. There was nothing about the mousy girl that appealed to her – and yet, there was something to her that Anne found intriguing.

Her mind travelled back to the day she had first seen the girl and taken her under her wing, thinking that she would make a good project until she could figure a way out of the web her father was spinning about her.

***

TBC - but sporadically b/c I have a great deal of unfinished works.