Authors Note: (CN: this story contains references to child abuse (physical and sexual) and trauma - if you need more specific warnings it is totally fine to message me and I can give more details)
March 1536
"Your majesty, I really must leave" Tom says and any formality is swept away by the fact he is resting his head against Henry's chest and while Anne is a sleeping presence on Henry's other side one of her hands is firmly twined with Toms. "It is to carry out your orders after all" he says and attempts to sit up, before Henry pulls him back down for a kiss.
"I think you can stay a little longer, my love. In fact I think the Queen and I really cannot spare you" Henry kisses Tom again, softly and reverently, treasuring the other mans soft smile that is only for him and Anne.
"We need you in our arms and our bed, my raven. Our raven. I do not wish you to leave"
Anne wakes, smiling. "I have to agree with Henry - I do not think we can do without you" and she trails her hand up Toms arm and across his chest in a way to makes Henry breathless at how beautiful they are and that they are his.
They all know of course, that Thomas must go - there is no one else as able in such matters but it does not mean they have to like it or that they cannot keep him a little longer.
"Your…" Thomas starts to say and then stops with a laugh. "Anne, Henry - unfortunately I must for my Lord Norfolk would be even more wroth with me than usual if I delayed his departure"
"Let him wait, for I say this is much more important" is what Henry says but it is Anne's "It will do my uncle good to have to wait for once" that draws out Toms laughter as Anne draws him to her.
(They do end up making Norfolk late and he is indeed most wroth, barely mollified by Thomas explanation that his majesty had detained him on unexpected business. Ralph Sadler, who is being taken along for the expedition, barely manages not to laugh aloud).
May 19 1536
Anne's son is born at just past eight in the morning at the same time that, in another world, she would have left it. There are times, during the labour that she feels she is dying, as short as it is - worn out from the pain and the months of worry and sickness leading up to it.
She has her sister and her ladies and she is so glad for them but...she wants Tom to hold her hand and Henry too, despite everything.
Anne knows he is a son immediately after she slumps back on the pillows, utterly exhausted because Mary lets her know delightedly but Anne feels she would have known regardless - the elation in her ladies eyes is all she needs to see to know.
She wants to hold her baby immediately and demands him as her ladies fill a bathtub for her to wash and so her son is laid in her arms.
He is the image of Henry and no one can deny that - from the smattering of red brown hair, to his nose and the shape of his curious brown eyes and Anne is overwhelmed with love, just as she was with Elizabeth.
(Anne fancies too that there is something of Tom in this tiny new prince - something that can only grow as he grows but started with the love his parents shared blooming outwards).
She wants Tom there and of course he cannot be - not now, not immediately but Anne wants him there, wants her raven to see the child he has helped live. She wants Tom but she can't so Anne bites down on her impatience and submits to letting her ladies wash her and her son while the bed linens are changed and the bed remade and finally, her son is returned to her arms as her sister rebraids her hair.
And Anne waits.
Henry comes to Anne's rooms at a run, barely stopping to acknowledge any of the congratulations offered to him. He only wants to see their child. Their son. But at the door he hesitates a moment, until Anne beckons him forward with a wide smile.
"Henry, come and meet your son" she says and Henry feels he is in a dream, almost. Until he looks down at his newest child.
The little prince is clearly a robust healthy baby, (Henry thinks he is already taking notice of the world) and he is the image of Henry entirely and Henry wants to weep for the gifts the lord has given him and the realm. For the gifts that Anne has given him, that Tom has given him. They are truly his and truly his blessings, his dark haired loves.
Looking into the baby prince's eyes Henry considers names. He had thought to name his first son after himself once, but now it seems ill luck. Perhaps Edward, but that does not seem right either so...
"Thomas" Anne says firmly, responding to the question in his eyes. And then, in a whisper meant only for the two of them "He should be Thomas, for our raven." and Henry entirely agrees. Little Prince Tommy. Thomas, Prince of Wales. King Thomas The First. For the saint, for Anne's father is what they will say. Perhaps to family they will say 'for our trusted counsellor and the princes godfather' and they will all be true. For our love, is what they will say to Tom.
Thomas Cromwell looks down at his namesake, at the future king of England and the tears in his eyes are not of those things but of joy as...he feels a father to a new child, for all that he has no ties to this little one by blood.
("He is as much yours as Anne's and mine, love" Henry had said. "Come and see your son, my heart" Anne had said with a smile).
All three of them share a bed that night, simply holding each other as the festivities continue outside Anne's chambers and their son sleeps peacefully and safely.