The Letter
Disclaimer: I do not own Showtime, The Tudors, or the people they were based on.
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Christmas 1536
Mary was in her rooms at the palace waiting for her stepmother Queen Jane when there was a knock at the door. 'Enter!' she called.
A woman walked in, her cloak on and her hood over her face. Mary rose in alarm – she was alone and the stranger could be here to harm her – but to her surprise the woman placed a paper in her hands and left as silently as she had come.
With some trepidation, Mary opened the paper. To her utter shock, she recognised the writing. It was Anne Boleyn's.
Dear Mary, it said.
If you have received this letter then I am dead. I am writing this letter in the Tower awaiting my execution. Do not try and find the messenger, it will endanger her life as much as yours.
No doubt you celebrated my death. We were always enemies and death will not change that. Yet it may surprise you that you are the one I think of most in the Tower, second only to my daughter.
And this is where I must ask your favour. I beg of you Mary, whatever paths your lives take, whatever you do, whomever you marry, you do not put the sins of the mother upon the daughter. You may hate me and do so forever, but do not condemn Elizabeth. She is innocent in all of this and the blame should not be attached solely to her when others were involved.
There are some issues I wish to clear up however. This letter is my confession. I acknowledge my faults, especially in my behaviour towards you, which was certainly not the behaviour of a Queen or any noblewoman, although I was not the person who ordered you to wait on Elizabeth, who deprived you of servants or dignity, or who sent men to threaten you. Those orders, I regret to say, were the command of your father.
Most importantly, I am innocent of the charges against me. I may not have been the best wife to your father, but I did not commit adultery or incest. My true crime was my inability to produce a male heir, as others before me have struggled and will do so long after I am dead. On my immortal soul, I swear this is true.
My last words to you are those you do not wish to hear. But you must listen anyway. Sign the oath, Mary. To keep yourself safe. Your father overthrew the Church of Rome to marry me, then condemned me to die on faked evidence, executed his friends, bastardised both you and my daughter, threatened to kill or imprison you and exiled your mother. If he can do this to people he adored, what will he do to you if you keep refusing?
Goodbye Mary. Look after my daughter. And if I have sinned in life, I am surely atoning for it in my death.
Anne Boleyn
P.S. Burn this.
Mary stared at the letter in disbelief. The audacity of that, that witch to write to her! She read it through a few more times. Then following the logic, she placed it in the fireplace and watched as the flames curled around it, reducing it to ashes. She sat back in her chair, her mind racing.
Three thoughts came forward. Was that woman guilty? Probably. But swearing on her immortal soul...risky, except she was a heretic anyway and her word could not be trusted.
Elizabeth. She could, regrettably, see the harlot's point. Elizabeth was innocent. But every time she looked at the child all she saw was Anne Boleyn. No, she could not forgive Elizabeth for what she represented, although she might manage to feel sorry for another motherless child and try to treat her well.
And the oath. It would break her to do it. And it had. Mary had signed two months previous after Chapuys had said exactly the same thing as the harlot. Maybe as her last act towards her, the Boleyn whore had tried to be kind.
Mary shook her head. No. She did not believe the harlot's letter. It was a last ditch attempt to beat Mary into submission. She would always believe Anne Boleyn was guilty, that she had corrupted Mary's father and turned him against his rightful queen and daughter, as well as her beloved church. However, she might deign to show Elizabeth some kindness. After all, no one else in the country would.
With all this in her mind, Mary stood up to welcome Queen Jane with a smile as she swept into the room.
FIN
My first Tudor fic so Please Review!