Author's note PLEASE READ: I realise that is going to be rather long, and I do apologise, but I thought I'd better explain a few details before we get any further into the story.

This is a slightly AU fic, although I shall try to stay as true to History as possible.

I have set Mary Boleyn's date of birth in 1505, Anne's in 1508, George's in 1510 and Eleanor's in 1515. Therefore they are now 19, 16, 14, and 9. Mary has already been the mistress of Henry VIII, and given him a daughter, Katherine, but he is now tiring of her, so the family have brought Anne home from France, to see whether she can catch his eye.

And now; on with chapter 2!

Chapter 2

Reunion – Return to Court

The next few days were difficult for all of us, as we learnt to shake down together and get along. Anne preferred George's company to that of the rest of us, and so those two would often disappear for hours on end, riding over the fields together, chattering and laughing.

I, deemed too young to go along, would watch from the castle windows, overcome with jealousy, as they mounted their horses and clattered off out of sight, perfectly happy, needing no other source of companionship except themselves.

Resentment always flared in my heart when I saw them together. Innocent as I was, I had honestly believed that George would take me with him when he went riding with Anne, but why would he? Being only nine years old, I was just a child to him, a child to be spoiled and petted, but otherwise ignored, and I couldn't deny that, not to my brother, whom I idolised, nor to my sister, who was a grand young lady of 16 years, old enough to be married.

"I don't care! I don't!" I told myself. "Let them ride out without me. They're only going round to see the farms. What do I want with that?"

But I did care, and I knew I did. Secretly, I longed to be accepted by my brother and sister, to be allowed to ride out with them, to be privy to the secrets they shared. Besides, if George and Anne ignored me, the only other person I could talk to freely was my eldest sister Mary, and she was always busy with her four year old daughter, Katherine.

Deprived of any other friendships, I withdrew into myself, relying more and more upon my fantasy Anne to keep me company throughout each day, wishing with all my heart that the real Anne would be more like mine from time to time.

****

She was. Eventually, she was. I heard her footsteps on the stairs one morning, and presumed that she was just hurrying out to go riding with George again, but instead she put her head around the door of my schoolroom.

"Eleanor. The rest of my gowns have arrived from France. Do you want to come and see?"

"Yes please!" I breathed, scarcely daring to believe my luck.

"Come on, then, sweetheart."Anne smiled at me warmly, holding out her hand. At once, I sprang to take it, revelling in the attention. We rushed upstairs, tripping in our haste.

As soon as we got inside Anne's bedroom, we slammed the door and panting, glanced at each other, and promptly collapsed into peals of helpless laughter.

"Come on, we'd better get this unpacked." Anne groaned, gesturing at her trunk, which was almost bursting at the seams. "Want to start?"

I needed no second invitation. Almost running across the room, I fumbled with the lid of the heavy trunk.

"Let me" Anne knelt down beside me, deftly opened the lock, and then graciously allowed me to fling back the lid, and take out the first gown, which I did, exclaiming with delight as I did so.

"You were fine enough in France, sister!"

Anne nodded, surrounded by her dresses, cloaks, jewels and hoods.

"Which one's your favourite, little sister?" she asked, as we took out the last dress, and laid it on the bed. Leaning against her shoulder, I surveyed the glittering dresses critically, before stretching forward and making my choice.

"This one." I told her, stroking the fabric of one of the richest gowns gently.

"Try it on." Anne helped me out of my dress, and then left me to step into the other one while she sorted frantically through her vast collection of hoods.

Picking up the one the matched the dress, she laced me up at the back, and then set the hood on my head. Smoothing out my curls with her hand, she stepped back to take me in.

"A veritable Princess – worthy of any court!"

"I knew her words were treasonous, but I didn't care. Basking in her praise, I twirled around the room again and again, showing off to Anne, making her laugh.

From that moment, we were sisters. Not strangers, but sisters.

****

A few nights later, I woke up late in the evening, thirsty. I crept downstairs to get myself a drink of something, when I overheard my brother and sisters talking.

"We'll be off to Court tomorrow, Anne. You do know what you've got to do, don't you?" Mary asked.

"Put myself in the King's way, interest him, hold out for a while, and then let him try to get me pregnant with a bastard – like he did you." Anne replied calmly. I gasped. Mary had only had one child – Katherine. Was she really the King's daughter? She bore the name of Mary's husband, Sir William Carey. Was he not her father? And was Anne now supposed to take Mary's place in the King's affections? I couldn't believe it. It seemed impossible.

Mary, meanwhile, had heard my sharp intake of breath.

"Who's there?" she cried, leaping up out of her seat. Shamefacedly, I stepped into view.

"It's only me. I – I was thirsty." I stammered.

"Go back to bed, Eleanor. I'll get your drink." Anne said quickly, scrambling to her feet. I did as I was told.

A few moments later, Anne came into my room, a cup of hot milk in her hand. Sitting up, I took it from her, smiling my thanks. As I sipped it, Anne sat down at the foot of my bed.

"Are you looking forward to Court tomorrow?"

"Yes. It'll be the first time that I'll be there officially, though I've visited before, of course." I answered.

"Hmm. You'd better get some sleep, darling. We'll be riding hard tomorrow."

Anne took the cup of milk from me, tucked me in, and kissed my forehead.

Then she turned for the door.

"Anne?" I couldn't resist. I had to know. "Do you mind having to go to Court with the express intention of seducing the King?"

Anne did not even bother to turn around.

"No, not really. I'm a Boleyn girl, a Howard girl, and Howard girls just have to do what they're told. I've been ordered to try and seduce the King. When you're older, you'll understand how this family works."

So saying, she left the room, the weight of her words hanging in the air behind her.

****

We were up early the next day, as we had to ride to Greenwich Palace by supper-time. It was a gloomy day – grey, overcast, with a steady drizzle which drove into our faces, half-blinding us as we struggled to stack our things on the carts and mount our horses, ready to go, but our enthusiasm, fervent as it was, kept our hearts light and our spirits up, even as our riding habits, hats and cloaks became sodden and heavy.

We dined well, but hurriedly, at a monastery along the road, and then swung back into the saddle in order to continue our journey.

Anne rode beside George for the best part of the morning, but after lunch, she dropped back to join me.

"Worst sort of weather for a journey, isn't it?" she asked. I nodded absently, half my mind on the lively grey pony I was riding.

"Yes, but the destination makes anything worthwhile."

"That's true." Anne agreed, before lapsing into silence for a while, as we trotted along, merry once more, every step taking us closer to Court. Suddenly Anne raised her voice in a song,

"The ash grove, how graceful, how plainly tis speaking,
the harp wind through it playing has language for me.
Whenever the light through its branches is breaking
a host of kind faces is gazing on me.
The friends of my childhood again are before me,
each step wakes a memory as freely I roam.
With soft whispers laden its leaves rustle o'er me,
the ash grove, the ash grove again alone is my home."

To my delight, I realised I knew the song, and so, when Anne began to sing the second verse, I joined in, blending my voice harmoniously with hers.

"Down yonder green valley where streamlets meander
when twilight is fading I pensively rove.
Or at the bright noontide in solitude wander
amid the dark shades of the lonely ash grove.
Twas there while the blackbird was cheerfully singing
I first met that dear one, the joy of my heart.
Around us for gladness the bluebells were springing
the ash grove, the ash grove that sheltered my home.

My laughter is over, my step loses lightness,
old countryside measures steal soft on my ears;
I only remember the past and its brightness,
the dear ones I mourn for again gather here.
From out of the shadows their loving looks greet me,
and wistfully searching the leafy green dome,
I find other faces fond bending to greet me,
the ash grove, the ash grove alone is my home."

We sang it over and over again, delighting in a pastime we could both do so well. We were still singing as George led us in through the ornately carved gates at Greenwich. Mary scowled at our lack of decorum, as, laughing, we slid gracefully from the saddle, and tossed our reins at the stable boys, before pausing to collect ourselves, smoothing down our gowns , and only then rejoining our siblings. We fell in behind them as George gave Mary his arm, and led us from the courtyard.

Many a young man gave Anne an admiring glance as we passed, on our way to Queen Katherine's chambers. Young as I was, I wasn't blind to them, and although Anne tried to keep up a steady flow of light-hearted chatter, as we traipsed up the stairs, I could tell she wasn't either.

George stopped outside a grand gilt door, and nodded to the man guarding it, who flung it open, and announced "Sir George Boleyn, Lady Mary Carey, Mademoiselle Anna-Maria Boleyn and Lady Eleanor Boleyn to see you, Your Majesty."

As I strode forward with my sisters and brother, and sank into a deep curtsey, I heard the guard pulling the door shut again.

This was it. There was no going back now.

We had arrived at C ourt.