Title: Broken And Mended
Rating: G for this chapter (T for some future chapters)
Summary: Set in 1507, pre-show: Frustrated 16-year old Henry knows that being Prince of England isn't always what it's cut out to be. Charles, his favourite page, decides to help him out and get Henry what he wants. But things don't always go as planned...
Main characters: Teenage Henry Tudor, teenage Charles Brandon
Secondary characters: King Henry VII., Catherine of Aragon, William Compton, Anthony Knivert, Jane Popincourt, Princess Mary, Thomas Brandon.
Author's Notes: I have taken a lot of liberties with Charles here. I know historically he was about 6 years older than Henry, but I've deliberately made them the same age in this story, because I always felt they were portrayed like that in the show and... because I wanted to. :P On the other hand I have gone with history and not the show in the case of Henry's sister. She's Mary here, not Margaret. Mary's attendant Jane Popincourt was a real person, rumoured to have had an affair with Henry in 1514 and so known for being loose that the French king refused to have her come to his court. Finally I hope no one is confused that Henry is called Harry in this quite often. He was commonly called that in his youth to distinguish him from his father.
Broken And Mended
Chapter 1
From up on the gallery, hidden behind a heavy curtain, the king watched his son wrestle. Harry's group of companions was gathered around him, standing in a semi circle in the hall, cheering and yelling excitedly as their young master was locked in a furious battle of wills with another boy.
"Come on Harry!" a red-haired youth cried and the prince, spurred on and muscles straining, doubled his efforts to throw his opponent to the floor, an excited cry coming from his throat. He wasn't fully grown into his body yet, his limbs sometimes gangly like that of a young colt and his face still round and sweet as a girl's. But he was a fine youth and the king could already see the man his son would soon become. He smiled, full of pride for the boy's strength, his health and lively spirit.
Yet his pride was hampered, because at the same time this glowing health and over-bounding energy often frightened him for the boy's life. Harry had been rambunctious even as a small child and now that he had grown into a vigorous, able-bodied teen he loved nothing better than to test his strength with others, clamouring for the manly glory of winning at the joust and all the other various sports young men took part in. But those were dangerous activities for the king's sole surviving son and heir. Too dangerous.
"Throw him down, Harry!" the red-haired boy yelled again and his son gave an almighty cry and almost threw the other boy to the floor. At the last moment he caught his footing and brought some distance between them, then they immediately threw themselves at each other again and the other boy was grappling for purchase around Harry's waist, trying to push him off balance, the same determined look to win on his face as the prince. It was William Brandon's son, Charles, he saw now, one of Harry's favourite pages, the one it seemed he kept around him day and night. The two boys were about the same strength, the muscles in their slim young bodies straining with effort, but neither boy gave the other even an inch to gain, fighting with everything they had as only teen-aged boys could.
Still, neither of them gained any ground for some time and as often happened lately the king's mind drifted off to dark brooding. Seven children his wife had borne him, he thought, and that should have been enough, but now she was dead and he was old and he had only this single son left and two daughters. His eldest girl had been gone and married these past 5 years and he doubted he would ever see her again and his beautiful little Mary would go the same way as her sister in a few years and be comfort to him no more. He had just concluded the negotiations for her betrothal.
But this boy, his second son, was his to keep. And he would not bear to lose him, like he had lost his eldest. Oh, he had cried too when the others, the little ones had died, his darling girls and the rosy-cheeked boy he'd thought would grow into a strong Duke of Somerset. But that had been nothing compared to the pain at the death of Arthur, his first-born, his pride. His death had broken him, changed him in very profound ways, he knew that, and ever since, he was so fearful of anything happening to Harry too, that it sometimes threatened to choke him. In the months before his 16th birthday he had even repeatedly woken in a cold sweat, a scream on his lips, thinking that Harry had suddenly died just as Arthur had, cold and dead in the ground at 15, never even to see his 16th year.
The boy was in robust health though, as always. And nothing had happened to him. But still... the fear would not go away. And now Harry wanted to joust and hunt as the other boys his age did, as the king himself had done at that age. But he would never allow that. He could not bear to let him participate in such dangerous sports. He was too precious for this kingdom to lose. He was too precious to him. Harry greatly chafed at the restrictions he put on him though and there were ever more fights between them over it, which wearied and saddened him and he suspected that the boy thought his old man was keeping him away from his fun out of simple maliciousness. Quite often he felt bad over for it.
A few months ago in a fit of guilt he had presented him with a fine stallion for his birthday just to see him smile at him for once. It had been but a fleeting pleasure. He regretted the present now, for Harry had ever since not ceased to beg him for permission to joust in the upcoming May jousts with his new prize. Overwhelming fear for his son's life chased away any guilt every time he even thought about such a thing as letting him joust among the rugged war-hardy men that frequented the tournaments. He was determined not to relent and to sit his son out until the May jousts were over even if he grew completely grey-haired in the process. It was becoming a greater strain every day to resist his son's dogged demands and frustrated accusations though!
"Throw him down, Harry!"
He was distracted from his thoughts by a sudden yelling and cheering erupting amongst the boys down in the hall. The prince's youthful eagerness to win finally had prevailed and he looked just in time to see Harry gain the upper hand over his opponent and force Charles Brandon to the floor in a smooth, rather genius wrestling move. For a short, stunned moment he lay on top of his friend, breathing heavily, sweat running down his bare back. Then the other boy stopped struggling, realising his defeat and Harry rose, victorious, throwing his arms in the air, shouting out his victory and glowing with glee. The other boys ran up to him grinning and clapping him on the back cheering loudly.
To the king's soul it was like balm to see his son so happy and without that indignant frown marring his face which he so often directed at him these days. If he had to sneak behind curtains like a beggar to see it, then so be it.
Let the boy have his small victories at least, he thought. And me an old man's indulgence.
He smiled and left, unseen.
"What was that about, William!" Charles exclaimed indignantly and punched the red-haired boy's shoulder hard as they walked out of the hall into the courtyard after their wrestling, returning to the prince's chambers.
"Throw him down, Harry, throw him down! I thought you were on my side!"
Henry, who was walking a little ahead, turned and laughed. "He just knows which horse to bet on, Charles. Face it, I'm better than you!"
"He is." William said with a comically fake apologetic expression on his face, but yelped a moment later when Charles pulled him into a headlock. "I'm still better than you." he said, not really angry but conscious of saving the remains of his bruised pride in front of the other boys after he had lost the wrestling match.
William snorted as best he could in his position then punched him in the stomach in retribution and an impromptu wrestling match in the middle of the courtyard started. Amused, Henry stopped.
"Oh, leave him alone Charles, he's just telling the truth." He teased, shaking his head but he had no intention of breaking up their little fight and when all of the other boys gathered around them to watch, too, he started bets on the winner.
"Exactly…" William choked. "You are… such a… sore loser!"
"I'm not a-" Charles started but the fight was suddenly cut short, because Anthony Knivert's excited exclamation made everyone pause.
"Look, boys!" he hissed. "There is Lady Catherine with her ladies!" Charles and William let go of each other immediately and everyone else turned too. At the other end of the courtyard Lady Catherine was leaving the chapel, a train of young girls, her attendants, following her. It was such a rare sight, that they all stood rooted to the spot and stared open-mouthed, drinking in the appearance of the girls.
"She is looking even more beautiful than the last time I saw her," William muttered.
"How can you even tell from such a distance? Or have you had a chance for closer inspection?" Charles whispered sarcastically and a moment later all the boys were whispering lewd jokes to each other.
At that moment one of the girls noticed them too and pointed and they all stopped and did much the same as the boys had done, first staring, then excitedly whispering and giggling among themselves.
Only Catherine took no part in her maid's chattering, instead she silently looked at Henry, who ignored his companion's jokes and bragging as well and returned her gaze with the same intensity. Both of them were uncertain what to do now. Neither of them made a move to approach the other yet neither made a move to leave either and after a short moment all of the girls and boys fell silent again and waited to see what their master and mistress would do now. When it became apparent that neither of them knew what to do and the mood grew awkward Henry suddenly was the first to think of something and made a sweeping chivalrous bow to Catherine. After a fashion all the boys followed suit. Catherine smiled brightly and returned Henry's greeting with a deep elegant Spanish curtsey, her hair gleaming in the sun as she bowed her head to him and Henry's face lit up.
"Why don't you go and talk to her, you are technically married to her!" Charles urged him quietly, breaking the silence. Like all the other boys he wanted a chance to talk to her maids-of-honour.
"I-" Henry looked at him, seemed to consider it for a moment, yet hesitated. They all knew he fancied Catherine and actually had done so since before she had married Prince Arthur and then been widowed by him and the king had betrothed her to Henry instead.
"Come on, use the chance! Two fiancés talking to each other on a lovely morning in the courtyard with servants present isn't unusual." Charles wheedled, among agreeing murmurs from the other boys.
But things where more complicated than that and they all knew it. Catherine's father still had not paid the second half of her dowry and in turn Henry's father had not fulfilled his promise of Henry marrying her when he turned fourteen. Henry had already turned sixteen now, there had been no marriage and the king purposely prevented any contact between them that was away from his watchful eye. They were pawns in their father's hands and Henry might get in trouble with the king if he even talked to her now in an unscheduled meeting.
"It's perfectly modest." Anthony reasoned. "It's not like you are secretly visiting her bed-chamber at night or something!" The boys snickered at that, but Henry's eyes flashed and his jaw clenched. He was just about to speak some angry words to Anthony, when suddenly Catherine seemed to come to a decision, bunching the green taffeta of her strange Spanish dress up in her hands and starting towards them, a look of modest shyness on her face that nonetheless showed some steel beneath it.
"Oh yes!" Charles whispered, grinning, and William suppressed an excited laugh.
Henry's face took on a pleased and hopeful expression and he immediately moved to meet her halfway. The other boys stared in eager anticipation at the girls, who were obviously debating if they should follow their mistress, then-
"Por dios! Qué es estos?"
Everyone started, as a shrill voice echoed through the courtyard, indignantly exclaiming a stream of words in Spanish. Feeling caught, they all turned to see Dona Elvira, Catherine's governess appear from the chapel, her black dress dragging through the mud as she virtually ran across the courtyard, angrily gesturing and ranting.
Dona Elvira crossed the courtyard surprisingly quickly for a wrinkly, little old woman and grabbed Catherine by the arm none too gently. She gave Henry a perfunctory curtsey and an accompanying glare and before they knew what had happened she had bustled Catherine and her maids through the nearest door into the palace. Before she was pushed inside, Catherine's eyes sought out Henry, an expression of longing and regret in them, then she was gone.
"Damn!" Anthony exclaimed and a collective breath of disappointment went through the group of boys.
"What did she do that for?" William said, "She behaved as if she had caught her in bed with Harry not trying to talk to him in the courtyard." That elicited snickers of dirty laughter among the boys and Henry angrily blushed a little, but pretended to still stare at the door through which Catherine had disappeared.
"Such a pity, did you see that pretty dark-haired maid, the one in the red dress? Man, I'd like to talk to her." Anthony said with a leer.
William laughed. "Get in line behind me then, I got her to give me some of her womanly favours in a quiet corner off the hall last month, she knows a real gentleman when she sees one! You better stay with that milkmaid I saw you kissing last week."
Anthony hissed in indignation. "You promised me not to tell anyone!" Everyone laughed at him, except Henry who was listening with his back still turned towards them. Embarrassed Anthony turned to him to try and quickly change the topic. He punching Henry's shoulder and said. "Hey, Harry, you should try arranging a private talk with Lady Catherine!"
But Henry was far from amused. He suddenly turned on Anthony with such a dark, furious look on his face that Anthony shrank back even before Henry roughly pushed him in the chest, making him stumble backwards.
"And you should watch your tongue, Master Knivert!" he hissed, virtually vibrating with rage and slapped him hard across the face. The other boys quickly fell silent and averted their eyes as Anthony stammered.
"I- it was just a joke...," but that seemed to enrage Henry even more.
"A joke." he said dangerously. "You think this is funny, Anthony?"
Anthony just stared at him like a rabbit facing a snake, completely taken aback by Henry's unexpected violent outburst.
"No, your Grace, I-"
"How dare you even speak of such things in my presence!" he said, raising his hand to slap him again but just then Charles and William stepped in and held him back.
"He didn't mean any harm." William said into his ear.
"Let go of me!" Henry hissed, his jaw clenching and struggling to get rid of them. They didn't budge however and Henry, breathing hard was left to just glare at Anthony. He stopped struggling and a long tense moment followed, every eyes on Henry then Charles suddenly spoke up.
"Why don't we go for a ride after supper, Henry?" he said into the stunned silence. "Can I ride your new horse?"
Henry blinked and looked at him, incredulous. "What? No."
"No to the ride or no to me riding your horse?" Charles asked, keeping the out-of-place conversation up without even blinking.
"No to the horse!" Henry roared and finally managed to shake both Charles and William off. "I said, let go of me!"he reiterated, but everyone could see he had already calmed down a bit.
"Oh come on, just one time!" Charles begged, reaching for his arm again. "Don't you love me?" Henry just stared at him, then he suddenly shook his head and started laughing.
Charles and everyone else joined in in relief and even though it sounded a little strained, they knew the prince's temper tantrum was over, when he let Charles put an arm round his shoulder and lead him towards the door to the palace.
"Give it up, Charles, my father won't even let me ride my horse, why would I let you have it?" Henry's muttered words echoed in the courtyard.
"He let's you ride it every time you want, just not in a joust." Charles countered and looked over his shoulder at Anthony, winking as he steered Henry towards his chambers.
They disappeared inside the palace and most of the boys slowly followed, except for William and Anthony.
"What in God's name got up his royal butt?" Anthony whispered to William, holding his red cheek.
William shrugged. "No idea."
But Anthony saw him avoiding his eyes and said suspiciously. "You know, sometimes I think you and Charles know something I don't..."
After supper everything was back to normal again and as Charles had suggested they went for a ride in the extensive deer park near the palace to blow off some steam, racing each others horses for fun. Henry's birthday stallion won as he had done every time so far and Charles was rebuffed again when he asked to ride the beautiful animal. Henry who normally gave freely and generously of everything he had to those he liked seemed to feel he did not fully possess that horse until he had ridden it in a joust and he didn't want to let anyone else have it before that. So Charles gave up for the time being.
Later at night when Henry was lying in bed he started to brood however, thoughtfully twisting a ring on his finger. It was new, a gift Catherine had sent him when he had returned from his ride. A precious thing with a small diamond set in gold, that glittered in the candlelight. The pretty girl in the red dress had slipped it to William during evening mass. It was far from the first gift Catherine had sent him and while such tokens pleased him in some ways, they mostly only served to aggravate his frustration with his father.
"Do you think he really... slept with that girl, Charles?" he suddenly asked. Charles, who was attending on him tonight, paused midway in stretching up from his pallet beside the prince's bed to snuff out the last candle on the night-stand.
"Who?" he yawned, confused, his face illuminated in the light of the flame.
"William."
Charles's face instantly took on a more awake expression and he grinned slowly. "Maybe. But I don't think so. I've tried and she wouldn't budge." He laughed a little, then moved again to snuff out the candle, but Henry stopped him.
"No, not yet."
"Al right," Charles said curiously and settled himself comfortably on his pallet, almost disappearing into the shadows when he left the circle of light from the candle. He could tell that Henry was in one of his moods and wanted to talk and that meant he probably wouldn't get to sleep any time soon. He didn't mind though, because he enjoyed their late night talks.
"So you think William was just bragging?" Henry asked with pretended lightness, looking down at his ring, as if he wasn't really interested in the answer.
Charles snorted. "Of course. He's hiding behind bushes with milkmaids and servant wenches as everyone else is. None of Catherine's ladies will do anything more than flirt." That stupid governess Dona Elvira made sure of that. And because since the queen's death the king had not remarried, there were barely any other women at court, unless one counted the ladies of Henry's young sister Mary. But that was dangerous territory with the king's mother around to chaperone them.
"Hmm," Henry replied, still twisting the ring and not looking at Charles.
"It's a really nice gift, that ring." Charles offered.
Henry looked up and snorted. "For all the good it does me!"
He left the ring alone suddenly, groaned and threw himself back into his pillows with force, staring at the canopy. "I hate this! I can't even talk to her. I wish her father would just pay that other half of the dowry or my father would forget about money for a second and just let me marry her."
He beat the pillow at his side repeatedly in frustration. Charles didn't know what to say, because there wasn't really anything new to say about it and he had heard this complaint many times before, but luckily Henry didn't dwell on his frustrated amorous ambitions and went right onto another grievance.
"And to make my life worse, I'll have to leave with the king for Westminster the day after tomorrow. He wants me to attend parliament with him again." He turned his head to Charles, an angry pout on his face and Charles's only thought was: Oh no! Not so much out of pity for Henry but for himself. He groaned, perhaps a little too loud, because Henry suddenly laughed and said into the half-dark: "I don't even have to see your face to know what's on it right now." He propped himself up on his elbow and looked down at him. "I don't know what you have to complain about! You aren't the one getting a lesson in statesmanship!"
He grabbed a pillow and with a grin quickly brought it down on Charles' head. Charles's gave a surprised yelp when it hit him and Henry chuckled. But Charles quickly retaliated and and threw it back and Henry wasn't quick enough to duck so it hit him right in the face. Charles crowed in triumph.
"You aren't the one who has to stand in the same spot for hours!" he said, shuddering at the memory of the last time the king had taken Henry with him to parliament. "You get a seat at least!"
Henry grunted indignantly as he peeled the pillow from his face, then hurled it at Charles's head again, but he missed and it hit Charles's chest instead.
"You don't have to pay attention to anything that's being said or done at least! I get grilled by my father with questions about everything that happened afterwards! He wants me to watch fifty people at once! Did you see that earl there? What do you think he intended?", he aped the king. "Be careful of that one, he just wants to slip out of my grip and make so-and-so king instead. "
His face contorted in the same pinched expression the king often wore and Charles broke into sudden laughter at Henry's rather accurate impersonation of his father's nasal, heavily-breathing way of speaking, even forgetting to throw back the pillow. Henry joined in after a moment until they were holding their sides with laughter.
It took a few minutes before they calmed down, conscious of the fact that the person who was the butt of their joke might hear them. Ever since prince Arthur had died the king had his chambers right next to Henry's with a door connecting them so that it was impossible for anyone to come into the prince's rooms without going through the king's first or for Henry to leave without the king noticing. The walls were thick but sounds still carried through the door sometimes.
"Do I have to-" Charles finally asked more seriously, but Henry cut him off, already knowing what he was going to ask.
"No, don't worry, I won't be taking you along again." Charles didn't bother to hide his sigh of relief this time. He had really started to dread that he was going to have to go along to this parliament session. "Not after what happened last time! I'll take William with me. At least he won't fall asleep standing up when I want him to fetch me a drink!"
Charles blushed a little and smoothed down his pillow-tousled hair in embarrassment. "Will you ever let me live that one down?"
"No." Henry laughed.
"I really don't know how you can stand those boring old men droning on and on and talking about such tedious stuff for hours without falling asleep," he mumbled. "I can't."
"That must be why God has made me Prince of England and you only the son of a knight." Henry said a little haughtily. "He must have thought you would not need the ability to withstand boring talk, which shall be your only excuse for falling asleep." He grinned and since the pillow was out of his reach he accompanied his last words by a playful smack to Charles's head with his hand instead.
"Ouch!" Charles exclaimed indignantly.
"Don't be such a girl." Henry gave back, smirking.
"Don't smack me with that ring on your finger!" Charles said, glaring. He gingerly felt the back of his head to see if the diamond had cut him and Henry sheepishly looked at Catherine's ring.
"Oh. I forgot I had that on."
There was a moment of silence in which Henry pointedly did not apologize and Charles made sure his head was fine, then he looked at Henry mischievously. "Or is that your way of making me share in the pain of your unfulfilled love?" he asked teasingly.
He could immediately see that he had hit the wrong note with that joke, because Henry scowled at him, grabbed his pillow from the pallet and angrily lay down, turning his back on him. For a short moment there was the same rage in his eyes as this morning with Anthony, before it simmered down to a mere scowl. He half expected to be told to blow out the candle now but Henry remained silent, ignoring him.
Charles sighed. Most of the other boys didn't know it, but... Henry had never lain with a girl.
The king's refusal to let the prince do any of the sports they liked to indulge in was becoming ever more grating for him and this particular kind of "sport" was an especially delicate matter and sore spot for him. Charles knew he hated that he could never join in on any talk about girls because he had no experience in the matter. Anthony had unknowingly stepped into dangerous territory this morning, but Charles knew better and it had been stupid and mean to tease him about Catherine, he thought.
Henry usually tried to paper over the cracks whenever talk of girls came up, yet Charles could see very well how humiliating it was for him that he was the only one of his companions who hadn't had a girl yet... and he pitied him for it.
The king was controlling everything in Henry's life and ruined for him all of the things that were the most fun – sports and girls. He'd never have a chance to have a girl like that.
But Charles suddenly felt determined to tip the scales of those he moved closer to the bed, where Henry was lying with his jaw clenched, crossly staring at the canopy. He crossed his arms on the rich bedding and rested his chin on them, then poked Henry's arm. Henry turned his head, glaring at him.
"I can get you one, you know," Charles said in a cajoling half-whisper, a conspirative twinkle in his eye.
"Get me what?" Henry asked testily.
Charles hesitated just a little before his next words. "A girl."
For a moment Henry froze, a mixture of surprise and blushing embarrassment on his face. They had never openly talked about the fact that he envied the other boys for their experience with girls. But Charles looked back at him earnestly and after a moment he relaxed.
"How?" he asked, tentatively.
Charles allowed himself a small self-satisfied grin.
"You know Jane Popincourt, right?"
"Yes." Henry's eyes sparkled with interest immediately, a slow grin spreading on his face and Charles had to suppress a chuckle.
"Well... I think I can arrange a meeting. She likes you." Charles whispered. Jane was very pretty, a lady to Henry's sister Mary and not much older than they were.
Henry moved closer to him on the bed, their faces only inches apart.
"But my father... and my grandmother! She is always watching my sister and her maids like a hawk. How could I meet her... alone?" he whispered. They were whispering now suddenly, maybe afraid someone could hear the forbidden things they were talking about, maybe a little awed by their daring.
"I know." Charles replied, starting to feel a little nervous about it. If they were caught they would be in big trouble. "But tomorrow your grandmother will leave for Dorset, remember?"
"Yes! I'd forgotten." Henry chuckled. "Mary was so excited about it." And she wasn't the only one. All of the girls in princess Mary's household were eagerly looking forward to running a little wild while she was away. Henry laughed in delight now and Charles knew his idea had fallen on grateful ears. Charles was thinking it through quickly. "After your lessons tomorrow, instead of going back to your chambers say you want to take some air in the gardens and then go to the laundry house instead. I know a quiet little closet there." Charles had bedded there more than one of the girls from the nearby village that the laundress always hired to help on laundry day… He winked and Henry blushed at first but then a huge smile spread on his lips and Charles smiled back, happy that he had made Henry happy.
"Ha! And father would have me cloistered up until my wedding day!" Henry said. They grinned at each other, snickering in the dark and whispering about it for some time more, making plans. When they had talked it through to exhaustion and it was long past midnight they were finally too sleepy to stay up any longer.
Charles moved to blow out the candle on the night-stand but Henry suddenly caught his wrist.
"Are you sure you can do it?" he whispered, his voice sounding a little anxious and afraid his chance could still be snatched from him.
"Of course I can." Charles whispered back smugly. He paused, then raised his eyebrows and added cheekily. "Do you love me enough now to let me ride your horse?"
Henry was surprised at first, then chuckled breathlessly. "If you can arrange this I will love you forever!" he said and rolled his eyes. "Al right. You can ride him."
"Yes!" Charles exclaimed in excitement.
"But for one ride only!" Henry added quickly.
"Al right, alight!" Charles said and then they were shaking hands as earnestly as if they had just made an important peace treaty.
It was a deal. A girl for a horse.
to be continued
