A/N: I decided to post early this morning. Here is the new chapter, everyone and I do thank Guest, princessElizabethtudor, justice, Guest, tricorvus, gabbygrl247, and Robin4 for all of the kind reviews on the previous chapter.

Guest: I do agree with you there. Perhaps I am a touch biased, but I too feel like Anne gets a little too much hate in regards to Henry's behavior and choices. He made those choices both before and even after Anne on his own volition. One of the few things I disliked about the Tudors in particular was that they made Jane out to be this pure, wholesome, and angelic pinnacle of virtue who could do no wrong. Yes, Anne did dally with a married man, but if we're being realistic so did Jane. Neither woman could claim innocence in that matter. And Jane also did show more favor both in-series and in-history to Mary than she ever did to Elizabeth. So yes, I do agree with your points wholeheartedly. Sadly, back then Anne was blamed for Henry's shortcomings, many of which had nothing to do with her, simply because no one was brave or foolish enough to call Henry himself out. But then, how does one criticize a king without ending up a head short?

justice: Male twins? Did you somehow get your hands on my Fanfic idea notebook? If so, please do not inform the other readers of what I have planned for the next chapter, let them be surprised. Lol, jk. But seriously, I commend you on the great guesswork there.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors, Showtime does.

...

May 19th, 1536

The last remains of Henry's patience evaporated as he glared at the young groom.

"Well?" he shrieked frantically. "What of the queen!?"

"Her Majesty has delivered..." the groom's face broke into a pleased smile, "Of a healthy son."

At this news, the world seemed to come to a stop.

"I have a son?"

Henry looked to the groom and then to Charles and then upward, a shocked expression on his face as the realization of those words sank in.

"I have a son..." he repeated breathlessly, unable to believe it.

Charles was a bit disgruntled that Anne had succeeded where Katherine had failed, but he was pleased for Henry's sake. He of all people knew how happy his old friend was to finally be blessed with a son.

"Congratulations, Your Majesty," he placed a hand on the king's shoulder.

Henry's booming laughter echoed about the room as he clapped his hand on Charles's shoulder, just like when they were but boys.

"I have a son!" the king shouted joyfully.

Suddenly, the door opened and another groom came hurrying into the room, and after observing the protocol, he took a deep breath.

"Your Majesty...the queen..."

Henry's grin faded. Had something happened to Anne?

"What is it?" his voice became agitated.

"Another child, sire," the man spoke quickly albeit more composed than the first groom had been. "The queen has delivered a second son."

Henry let out a breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding.

Twins? That was rare for anyone, let alone monarchs. And yet, here he was with news that his wife had given him not one, but two sons. His heir and his spare all in one fell swoop.

The king immediately sank to his knees, silently thanking the Lord above for such a blessing. Surely this would not only secure the future of the Tudor dynasty, but also show that Anne truly was his lawful wife and queen. How else could such a miracle be bestowed upon them?

"Fetch my lords Norfolk, Wiltshire, and Rochford," Henry instructed the first groom when his prayers were finished and he has risen to his feet. "And Master Cromwell as well. Preparations of the celebrations for the birth of my sons must begin immediately."

"Of course, sire," the man bowed and departed.

"And you," he turned to the other groom. "Send some heralds into the city to tell them the news."

"Majesty."

Henry turned to Charles, now once again wearing a boyish grin.

"Your Grace," he chuckled. "I must go and see my queen and our two new little princes."

...

"They are so beautiful," Madge cooed softly as she stared down at the infants laying side by side in a silver cradle. Only one baby had been expected and so the single cradle would have to suffice until a second one could be crafted.

Both babies had been cleaned and swaddled while Anne's bloodstained gown and bedding had been carried off for cleaning and replaced with fresh linens and another gown. Her damp hair had been washed and plaited and Dr. Linacre had coaxed a tonic down her throat, followed by a goblet of wine with herbs.

Now the queen lay in the refreshed bed, exhausted from the birth, but she smiled as she caught sight of her sons nestled in their cradle beside her bed.

Words escaped Anne as she gazed at her two little blessings. The firstborn prince had a ribbon of purple velvet around his wrist while his brother had a blue one around his, the colors of their mother's livery. No matter how many times she said prayers of thanks, it would never be enough. Her prayers had already been answered; her son...no, sons, were alive and Dr. Linacre and the midwife had assured her that both of them were healthy.

Though the ribbons were to differentiate the pair, Anne was able to tell them apart anyway. Both princes had dark, nearly black hair and blue eyes, but the eldest prince resembled their father while his younger brother seemed to take more of his appearance from Anne herself.

"Well done, sweetheart."

Anne's ladies curtsied and she herself inclined her head as her husband entered the chamber. He seemed to instantly appear at her bedside as he took her into his arms and kissed her tenderly before turning to the cradle, his expression ecstatic.

"We shall have to have a second cradle fashioned," he mused in a mock-grave tone.

"Yes," Anne nodded, forcing herself to smile.

Henry might be content to pretend that all was well between them now, but Anne could not bring herself to do so. Not after he had hurt her and betrayed her so, not when she and her children had nearly lost their lives in the aftermath of her husband's selfishness. Things could never be as they once were.

Henry however was now solely focused on the infant princes. Ever so gently, he lifted the boy wearing the purple ribbon.

"Our firstborn son," he whispered softly as he kissed the boy's downy head. "Bless you, sweet child. What shall we name him, my dear? Henry or Edward?"

Henry had decided long ago that he wanted his heir to be named one or the other and now he would have both at once.

The last thing Anne wanted was to name her son after the man that had hurt her, even if the man in question was his father. But she also knew it would further emphasize that the boy was truly a living image of his father. And so she nodded.

"Henry," she murmured softly. "Like his father."

"Our own little Prince Henry, Prince of Wales and the future king of England," Henry felt his heart soar as he uttered these words and set his son back in the cradle and lifted his brother.

"And now our Prince Edward," he smiled.

"No," Anne stated with such vehemence that Henry's eyes widened slightly. And then a darkened look came over his face.

"Does the name displease you, madam?" he asked.

"It is an unlucky name," Anne answered, thinking quickly. She knew the wench Jane Seymour had a brother named Edward and it would be a cold day in hell before she consented to let her child bear the same name as that man. But she couldn't say that, so she would instead appeal to her husband's superstitious nature. After all, plenty of past princes and kings with the name Edward had indeed met with unpleasant fates, one in particular had been one of Henry's own uncles: Elizabeth of York's brother Edward the Fifth.

This seemed to work as Henry pondered for a moment and nodded.

"Very well," he sighed. "Then we shall have to find another name. Perhaps Thomas for your uncle and father?"

Thomas might have been a suitable name, had it not been an unspoken command of her father that George father and heir and that was to be the name. And even then, Anne knew that name too was tainted, by Master Cromwell, who had once been her allie before he began using the Reformation as a means for his own benefit. He also had thrown his lot in with the Seymours, even offering his rooms to them so as to encourage Henry's dalliance with Jane. And in addition to that, Jane herself just happened to have a brother by the name Thomas. No, Anne would not allow her son to be cursed with that name.

She hurriedly thought of the names in her family tree, before finally settling on one in particular that appealed to her.

"Geoffrey," she said with a slight smile as she looked down at her younger son.

Henry stared at his wife in bewilderment.

"Geoffrey?"

Anne nodded. Her great-grandfather had been a hatter, but has rose to prominence as a Lord Mayor of London before being knighted by King Henry VI. And besides, it was not a common name within the royal family and so would help set the boy apart. The twins would each bear a name of their ancestry, Tudor and Boleyn.

While it did seem to Henry to be an odd name for a Prince of England, it was a surprisingly refreshing choice as no English princes bore the name and while it wouldn't have been very acceptable for a firstborn son, it would suffice for a second son.

"Prince Geoffrey, Duke of York," Henry spoke aloud and found it to be quite appealing. "What a pair these two will grow up to be. Don't you agree, sweetheart?"

"Yes," Anne answered before sighing wearily and lying back against her pillows.

"Rest, my darling," Henry had settled the infant Geoffrey back into the cradle and had now take Anne into his arms and kissed her again as he ran a hand over her plaited her. "You must be exhausted. We will talk more later when you are up."

Those same words, he had used before. Only now they were meant to be affectionate.

In truth, there was nothing to say. Not this time.

Had things been different, Anne would have lost little Henry and poor little Geoffrey would have been lost without anyone knowing he had even been there until...

The queen's eyes flew open as she frantically turned to glance at her sons, her arms madly thrusting toward the side of the bed.

"It's alright," Henry whispered, gently taking her wrists and placing them over her stomach, kissing each one as he did so before wiping away a tear that escaped her eye and rolled down her cheek. "Don't weep. Our boys will still be right here when you awaken."

No matter what tender words and sweet reassurances he uttered, Anne would never forget the day that she had found him with Jane perched upong his knee, the pair in the grasp of a passionate kiss, the kiss of lovers. She would never forget the pain he had made her feel. NEVER.

As her eyes drooped, she felt Henry tuck the silken sheets and coverlet around her.

"You are tired, sweetheart," he whispered into her ear. "You must rest. Our sons will be hear, safe and sound.

With a weak nod, the queen allowed the embrace of sleep to engulf her.

...

"I shall entrust the arrangements for the banquets, masques, and jousts to celebrate the birth of my sons to you," Henry stated to Norfolk, who gave a pleased grin as he inclined his head.

"It would be my great honor and pleasure, Your Majesty," the duke replied.

"Lord Wiltshire will assist you as well," Henry gestured to his father-in-law, whom Norfolk saw swell with pride as he gave his brother-in-law a wry smirk before turning and bowing to the king and stating what a pleasure in would be to take part in the celebrations honoring his royal grandsons.

The celebrations for a son were marvelous, but these celebrations could be nothing short of spectacular given that Anne had given Henry two sons at once. Such a miracle could not go unnoticed, and even if the people of the realm held no love for Anne herself, both Norfolk and Boleyn were shrewd enough to know the English people had waited so long for a prince to succeed their beloved king that they would rejoice at the prospect that the royal nursery yielded two princes, as well as a princess, so there would be assurance of an heir to the throne, rather than a foreign monarch as there would have been if the Lady Mary had been the only successor.

Henry himself had already decided that King Francis would stand as godfather to the Prince of Wales, with the Ambassador Jean du Bellay as his proxy. But now he must find someone to stand as godfather to the Duke of York. Emperor Charles was of course out of the question as he continued to insist that Henry restore the Lady Mary as his legitimate daughter and heiress and forsake his sons, deeming them bastards. Henry also distrusted Ambassador Chapuys, whom he had heard, had occasionally smuggled letters between Katherine and Mary and he had even intercepted the man's correspondences to his master, beseeching him to intercede on the pair's behalf, all the while referring to Anne as a harlot and a concubine and their children brats and bastards, even going so far as to suggest Anne had lain with another man and the twins were merely cuckoos that she hoped to pass off as the king's sons to secure her position as queen.

Henry knew such treasonous words warranted severe punishment, but if he were to confront Chapuys on the matter, it could not ony cause further conflict with the Emperor, but also lead to the cunning ambassador finding another network to send the letters through and he did not wish to be unaware of what the Spaniard had to say.

With a sigh, he forced himself to push those unpleasant things from his mind. After all, there were grand celebrations to be planned. Soon, all of England would be filled with cannon fire, the pealing of church bells, and the cheering and singing of te deums as the people celebrated the birth of their future king. Food and wine would be distributed, after all it was the people's celebration as well. Too long had they waited for a prince to prevent the threat of another civil war, and now they had him and another as well. Henry did not want to think of the possibility that one of his sons could die before reaching adulthood, but it was a very real one. At least he could reconcile himself that there would be another should such a thing come to pass.

This however caused another thought to take form...

Henry had always felt like a bit of an afterthought to his father. Arthur had been the heir and he had been but a second son, bound for the church, which wouldn't have been so horrible. But the idea that he always felt that he was less important just because he wasn't the firstborn had been a very unpleasant feeling in itself.

At that moment, the king resolved that little Henry and Geoffrey would be nothing like he and Arthur had been. No, they would both be loved and treasured like the blessings they were. His and Anne's little princes, their little miracles.

...

No one needed to tell Mary that the harlot had delivered her child, nor did they need to state the infant's sex.

The ladies of Elizabeth's household were hastily packing the princess's clothing and other assortment of belongings in preparation for a journey to Whitehall.

Lady Bryan had received word earlier that day that the king had commanded that his daughter be brought to court right away in order to gree her new sibling, as well as partake in the celebrations.

Mary, as a member of the household, was obliged to attend as well, regardless of her personal feelings on the matter. Had she not been treading soft ground with her father at the present, she would have refused to go and be forced to show her stepmother and stepsister the deference they pretended they were due as queen and princess. But Mary knew the truth, Anne was nothing more than her father's mistress and the children she bore were illegitimate by birth.

Her poor mother would be fortunate in this regard to still be at the More. While the conditions were, from what she had heard from a reluctant Chapuys, dreary and in no way the proper accommodations for an anointed queen, at least she would be spared the indignity of having to appear before the court as a servant as Mary would soon have to do.

"Lady Mary!"

Mary flinched unwittingly as her young half-sister Elizabeth came hurrying into the room, her eyes ablaze with a child's excitement.

"Mama had my new little brother!" she exclaimed in her clear, soft voice. "And we get to go and meet him, isn't it wonderful?"

"Yes," Mary answered a little more coldly than she had intended. She didn't blame Elizabeth for being happy about having a sibling, but she also could not bring herself to be pleased with the fact that her father would see this as proof that he was right to go against Rome, to forsake his true wife and daughter, and carry on in this farce of a marriage he was currently indulging in. And the worst part was, in being born alone, the new baby had usurped Mary's title. The baby would now be the Prince of Wales, and while Mary herself had never been formally declared Princess of Wales, it had been a courtesy title for the longest time as it had seemed her mother was unlikely to bear another living child.

And now, Anne had won. She had borne Mary's father the son he had craved for so long and in doing so cemented her pretended claim to the title of queen. And Mary found that she hated even more than she had previously for it.

As she listened to Lady Bryan bark orders at the other ladies and herself, Mary felt a sense of dread begin to form in her chest. Despite Lady Bryan's claims of her being defiant and disrespectful, Henry had ordered that she come as well. She knew why; to show the courtiers and by extension the common people as well that he no longer saw her as a legitimate heiress, just another bastard who was lucky to be favored enough to lay claim to the courtesy title of Lady. It had to have been Anne's influence, surely her loving father would not want to hurt his trueborn daughter, whom he had always loved and doted on in her childhood, in such a vile way. Anne already had a son and the assurance that she would remain queen, what more did she want?

...

"God, of His Almighty and infinite grace, give and grant good life and long to the noble Prince Henry, Duke of Cornwall, and to the right high, right excellent Prince Geoffrey, Duke of York, dear and entirely beloved sons of our most dread and gracious lord, King Henry the Eighth!"

Neither Anne nor Henry attended their sons' christening, as per tradition, but nearly everyone else at court had.

Mary of course had been placed near the back, so as to not cause unrest.

It displeased her to see that Anne had borne not one, but two princes. One would have been bad enough, but now even Mary and her mother's most ardent supporters would now turn against them in favor of what they believed to be a secure succession. Even the most devoted supporters would prefer a boy on the throne as opposed to a girl, and while Mary couldn't deceive herself to believe otherwise it did not lessen the sting of the knowledge.

...

Anne was sitting up in her bed, dressed in a splendid gown of dark purple silk embroidered with gold and a crimson robe trimmed with ermine. Her hair hung loosely about in lustrous dark curls, and her normally piercing blue eyes were tired, but Henry could see them liven immediately as her twin sons were brought before her.

"My darlings," she murmured softly, placing a kiss on each of the infant's foreheads as they were placed into her arms. A part of her ached as she knew she would only see them for a short time before they were removed to Hatfield with their older sister, but it still pleased her to no end that she would see them during visits and in the future, progresses.

"I can never thank you enough for them," Henry whispered to her. "My love..."

It dismayed him when Anne smiled, but said nothing. He couldn't understand why. Why would she scarcely speak to him unless the occasion required it?

Reminding himself that she was unwell, Henry decided that perhaps Anne was still tired. After all, the labor had been very taxing for her. Thankfully they had not had to cut open her belly as he had feared, but her present condition still concerned him. His poor darling who had struggled to bring their princes into the world. She had survived the sweating sickness before, so surely she must persevere through this as well, for indeed that was what she was; his Lady Perseverance...

Anne herself had no idea of the thoughts that coursed through her clearly distracted husband's mind, but she honestly did not care. At the moment, her only concerns were her sons, and the moment the door opened, her daughter.

"Elizabeth!" she greeted the three-year-old girl happily. "Oh, my own heart, I have missed you so!"

"I've missed you, Mama," Elizabeth spoke as she curtsied before Lady Bryan could scold her on deportment. "Papa says that I have two new little brothers."

"Indeed you do," Anne smiled. "Would you like to meet them?"

Nodding eagerly, Elizabeth toddled over to the bed to get a close look at the two wriggling bundles in her mother's arms.

"They look like you and Papa!" she declared.

This pleased Anne more than anyone could ever know, for at least it meant that no one, not even the most adamant of those that supported Mary and Katherine, would be able to claim neither child was sired by the king.

"Yes, they do," Anne smiled before indicating the babe on her right side. "This is the older twin, his name is Henry, like your papa's but we will call him Harry. And the other is Geoffrey, he is named for your great-great-grandfather, Geoffrey Boleyn."

"Harry and Geoffrey," Elizabeth allowed the names to roll off of her tongue before giving an approving nod. "I like that."

"Ah, we are fortunate, sweetheart" Henry remarked jovially as he lifted the little princess into his arms. "The Princess Elizabeth has given her seal of approval."

Elizabeth giggled and Anne smiled as her sons both gurgled softly and nestled closer to her. All was well until she yawned and blinked her eyes rapidly, as though willing herself to remain awake.

"Mama, are you sleepy?" Elizabeth asked softly.

"I'm alright," Anne assured her. "Just a little tired..."

She felt Henry reach for the princes and instinctively she tightened her hold gently, as though it would prevent him from taking them away.

"Anne, it will be alright," he whispered. "They need to be fed and you need to rest. There will be time later after you three have been attended to."

As she felt her eyelids droop once again, Anne reluctantly handed the twins to Nan and Madge so they could be given to their wetnurses, and once more, everything went black...

...

...

Well, that was a long chapter. I do hope everyone enjoyed it, and I have a little announcement; I have decided to begin updating this story, as well as a select few others, every Monday. Therefore, the next chapter will be out on Monday, November 12th. Until then, everyone.