Henry was furious, how dare they accuse him of being a horrible husband. As he stared at the women who he once loved so dearly he began to notice a bright light walking towards him.
"Henry" a female voice floated through the air. It was sweet, loving...
"Mother?"
"I am here my darling boy."
"I do not understand why they feel so much anger towards me."
"Henry, you must let go of your rage. It is clouding your mind." Henry couldn't understand how this was his fault. He was the King, and his will was law. Only Jane had not disappointed him and yet he saw her as the one attacking him the most.
Elizabeth of York stopped in front of Henry and bent down kissing his forehead. The light surrounded him bathing him in love.
"Remember, Henry, remember what they truly mean to you. And then you will see your heart's desire. I love you my son."
As the tears began to run down Henry's face he looked up to see the four women, not as dark shades filled with hate, but angels glowing with love. He noticed one burned brighter, her smile brought him shear happiness. He knew what he wanted, what he needed.
"I wish..." as his eyes began to close, his world seem to fade around him. He just knew he was dying. His eyes closed for what only seemed like a brief moment in time.
He felt his body begin to move and his eyes fluttered open.
"Anne" he faintly called out. He felt strange, somehow lighter. But he couldn't focus very well at first.
"Go send word, Henry is awake" a female voice ordered to a blurry man in the doorway.
"Henry" a hand grasped his tightly. He looked hard at the face trying to focus. His heart sank, it was not Anne before him.
"Katherine." he mumbled as he noticed Katherine clasping his hand, the jewels of the Queen around her neck. He wanted Anne, she was the one he wanted the most. He could still remember how she glowed, her eyes sparkled and the love they shared. Suddenly he noticed another man in the doorway, he couldn't tell who it was. Charles. Wolsey. Thomas More.
"Well glad to see you back with us, brother." Brother, could it be. Henry's eyes strained to focus. "But where is Anne?" he
whispered.
"Henry, your wife can not come to you now." Wife, so he did get his sweetheart back. His Anne.
"Why?"
"Henry, dear brother, Anne is in labor. Don't you remember she is pregnant with your first child?" Henry could only shake his head.
"Henry, you gave us quite a fright. You have been unconscious for two days now. We did not have the heart to tell Anne, with her so close to giving birth. Arthur knew you would want someone there for her, so he has been standing watch since your accident."
"Accident?" Henry asked.
"You fell from your horse and bumped your head. The physicians have checked you over and found no lasting affects, except for you being unconscious."
"Your majesties, Princess Anne has given birth." Henry looked up to see Mary Boleyn in the doorway. "Prince Henry, you are awake."
Arthur helped his brother up, and down the hallway to Anne. Anne, his beautiful Anne, she was alive. Henry hadn't even noticed yet that he was young again. When he looked at Anne, he realized she was about nineteen, younger than when he first met her. She was holding a tiny infant, he could just barely make out the tufts of red hair.
"Henry, your daughter." Henry looked down at the little girl. Anne was about to ask him about a name.
"Elizabeth." Our Elizabeth he thought.
Author's note : should I continue?
