Author's Note: Welcome back to King Arthur II! I didn't think I'd have this chapter up ready to go so soon, but here it is. As always, don't forget to review and tell me what you think! Also a huge thanks to everyone who has reviewed or favorited or alerted this story. You guys are so supportive! I have some bad news though; my updates may not become so regular anymore. I go back to school the fifth and I am usually quite busy during the week, but I will try to update every weekend.
Huge thanks to ReganX who continues to help me whenever I need it. You're the best!
Without further ado (no historical note this time! I'm getting better) here's the eighth chapter. Enjoy!
Richmond Palace
March 30, 1510
Boleyn was confused. One of his daughters was soaking wet, her hair matted and even a few pieces of some kind of water plant were sticking out of it. Her gown was soaked and was dripping onto the fine floors of the royal chambers. The other had a deep cut in her arm and had torn her finest gown, and was clearly dismayed. George was cooing with worry at Anne, making sure that she wasn't going to catch a cold. Their nurse, Mrs. Orchard, stood before him with a look of pure terror. "What has happened?" he asked, kneeling down to Anne's level, whose face was also wet with tears. He whipped them with the sleeve of his doublet and patted her head.
Anne had hoped that Mrs. Orchard would just take her back to her rooms without fuss, and change her into warm gown and allow her hair to dry instead of ushering her back to her father, who would be naturally upset at the interruption of his important meeting with the King. Mrs. Orchard did not have the same thoughts as Anne though, knowing that she couldn't hide this whole affair, she hurried straight to where Thomas Boleyn was. To her dismay, Prince Harry and Charles Brandon followed closely behind, wanting to protect Anne and take the blame for themselves. Luckily, Prince Arthur was taken back to his rooms by his wife to change back into dry clothes so he wouldn't catch a chill. If Anne got the Prince of Wales sick, her father could possibly get recalled from his coveted post, and Mrs. Orchard wanted to hide his involvement, knowing that she could share the blame.
"I would like to know the same thing," Henry requested, looking at his son, whose clothing was in a state of disarray and then looking to the little Boleyn girl, who was shivering with fear and because she was wet inside of a cold palace.
"Your majesty," Brandon began, knowing that he should explain because he was the oldest and he didn't want Harry to get in trouble because he had chased Anne into the pond. "We were playing a game that required running, and Anne was running to close to the edge and she slipped and fell into the pond. His grace was going to get her, so he began to take off his clothing so he wouldn't be weighted down. Prince Arthur saw that the girl was drowning and so he hoped in after her," Brandon explained, noticing the dark look on Harry's face at the recollection of the event.
"Send for the Prince and Princess of Wales and tell them to come here," Henry commanded, sending a page to go run the errand. They had enough things to worry about with Arthur's health without him running into a pond, and certainly he wouldn't have done it on his own, knowing his weak health and he was never one for chivalry, which was always Harry's forte.
Arthur and Katherine came as soon as they were summoned. Arthur had changed into dry clothing but was still shivering and his blonde hair was dripping wet. Katherine stood next to him, resting her arm in the crook of his elbow with a look of worry etched on her face.
As soon as Boleyn saw the way the King and his mother looked at Arthur, he knew that he couldn't let Anne go unpunished, even though he felt bad for her. She was terrified, and knew that her papa was more likely to be angry than pleased. He loved her, and hated to do such a thing, but he wasn't going to allow his position as an ambassador to be compromised by something as trivial as this. "Anne, look at what you have done! You should have been more careful and listened to Mrs. Orchard! Now you may have gotten our dear Prince of Wales ill by coming in and saving you, when you could have just avoided trouble!" he grabbed her arm harshly, pulling her closer when she had backed away from his yelling. "When we get home, I will give you a thrashing you won't soon forget!" At this proclamation, Anne began to sob.
Arthur opened his mouth to protest, but his grandmother spoke before he could. She moved to Anne's side, wrapping her skinny arms around the girl's shoulders. Anne was forced to look at her, scared by the woman already. "Now, Sir Thomas, there's no need to punish little Annie here. She is the youngest of the group in any case, and surely it was just an innocent accident and she didn't maliciously mean to put the Prince in harms way, isn't that right sweetheart?" Margaret asked, smiling down at Anne when she nodded her head, her blue eyes wide with terror.
"My lady is right. The girl didn't mean to, she's only three," Henry agreed, but not sparing a smile for the girl like his mother. Instead, he gazed over at Arthur and his wife with a thin frown on his face.
"Yes, the King has spoken sweetheart. Here's a sweetmint for you," Margaret said lovingly, passing over a small candy into the girl's hands and patted her head. Harry and Arthur looked at each other at this declaration, having the sense of humor to be amused at their grandmother's behavior. She never acted that way towards them when they were younger, always serious and would have never given them any sort of candy. Harry's face was grim with jealously while Arthur's was ripe with amusement.
"Thank you," Anne replied weakly, bobbing a clumsy curtsy. The King's mother scared her, and she wanted to leave and go back home, to Hever, into the warm sunshine, or at least into a dry gown while she was still a dreary Richmond, but another frown enveloped her face. She was going to the Netherlands soon, not right away of course, since she was only three and her sister was only five, but once she came of age.
"Anne, Mary, George," Boleyn called, his two oldest coming up to eagerly, hoping to get out of the place, while Anne was a bit more sluggish, still frozen with fear. "Go with Mrs. Orchard back to our apartments. Mrs. Orchard, change Mary and Anne into new clothing and do something about Mary's cut," Boleyn commanded. Mrs. Orchard all too eagerly rushed the children out, relieved that her master was not in trouble and that he wasn't angry with her.
"You may go to Sir Thomas, and enjoy yourself in the Netherlands. I look forward to forming an alliance with the Low Countries with your help," Henry said, dismissing Boleyn, who was also eager to leave. With his wife on his arm, he took his leave of the King and of England for a while.
"Arthur, what came over you? You've never done anything so foolish before, you should have let Harry handle it, he is more physically able. You just got over being sick, the last thing I want is for you to get more ill," Henry chided mildly, more worried than angry.
"Forgive me father, it's just, Harry is still a young boy, I didn't want him hurting himself or worse, drowning…" Arthur paused for a moment, his voice rattled with fear and nerves. The last thing he wanted was to get into more trouble. "Katherine saw little Anne drowning and Harry about to save her, so I had to hope in and take care of matters," Arthur finished, dropping his head down.
"Ahh, so this was Katherine's doing," Margaret smoothly replied, passing the blame from Arthur's head to Katherine's. "Shame on you for allowing your husband to put himself in harm's way, your highness. You should have known better then to let him do that," Margaret chided.
"Grandmother, will all due respect, I choose to save Anne. Katherine alerted me but I could have ignored it," Arthur dismissed his grandmother's notion, before turning to his father. "Father, isn't the duty of all Kings to protect their subjects? Isn't little Anne Boleyn my subject, along with her father and mother, who would have been grieved by the loss of their young daughter?" Arthur asked, trying to impress his father with thoughts of heroism, chivalry and the duty of a king.
"Still, you could have been hurt or taken ill, all because your wife wouldn't let the more healthy of our two heirs take care of it," Margaret stepped in before Henry could reply, accusing Katherine of ill-wishing Arthur. Margaret hated Katherine with a passion, more than she thought she could hate any person. Katherine defied her, and influenced Arthur in bad ways.
"Madam, you speak nonsense. I would have never presumed to put my beloved husband in harms way. Besides, he is not ill, just a little chilled that is all. He was a hero today, you should be proud," Katherine retorted, angry that the King's mother was insisting that she would purposely harm her husband. She loved Arthur dearly and would never jeopardize his health.
"We are proud of him, mother. Your reward is to go back to Ludlow tomorrow morning, to resume your life there. I think you have learned your lesson, my son," Henry commanded before his mother could speak again. He knew that she hated Katherine, and was eager to use this situation to her advantage. However, he knew that Arthur saved Anne because he cared for his future subjects, something that should be encouraged, he thought.
Arthur bowed to his father, offered Katherine his arm, and walked out of his throne room, glad to be gone. He was angry at his grandmother, who insulted his ability as a person because Harry was more robust and healthy than him. He knew that Harry was healthy, and that he had narrowly escaped death, but he couldn't let that hinder him becoming a great King. He also knew that his grandmother hated Katherine, and wanted to do anything to destroy her.
Margaret turned her attention to the two boys that were still standing there. She knew that Harry having a playmate would be a bad idea, and she hoped that this would prove it. "Charles Brandon, you should have never let Anne Boleyn play with you two. You are the oldest one of the group; I figured you would have enough sense to go easy on her at least, so she wouldn't fall into the pond. Shame on you," Margaret chided. If she couldn't nail Katherine of Aragon for ill-advising Arthur, she could at least get rid of the boy who distracted Harry.
"My lady, it was just that she was a girl and all, it wouldn't be very nice to tell her no. We were just trying to be nice," Charles defended himself. Harry had told him once that his grandmother was a sour old woman, who didn't care about very much but praying and involving herself in everything the King did. He figured that she would assume that he was trying to cause trouble because he had said yes to the adorable little girl.
"Yes, but she was so young. Perhaps you shouldn't be allowed to play with the Prince anymore, since you have proved yourself to be so irresponsible," Margaret suggested darkly.
"No, madam, please!" Charles pleaded, dropping himself at her feet. He had really begun to enjoy his lessons, and although theology was a boring subject, the Cardinal was a nice man who sometimes gave them treats for figuring out a hard passage. His mama was very impressed with his Latin. Also, he had begun to be close to Harry, and he enjoyed his friend's company.
"Mother, that's quite enough. Boys, be more careful next time. Charles, best run along now, so your mother doesn't worry. Harry, go back to your rooms and have Mistress Luke re-dress you, so you don't look foolish at dinner," Henry commanded, giving a sharp look to his mother after the boys had dismissed themselves. "That was unnecessary," he chided her.
"It's clear the boy isn't fit to be a companion to Harry, he isn't nearly as clever," Margaret explained, unhappy that her idea of thwarting Charles didn't work. She wanted to save some money as well, and providing his widowed mother with a pension, servant's wages, and apartments at Richmond didn't help matters. "The mother is draining our pockets too. She should get a job in the Queen's household so she's at least EARNING the money. Better yet, she should get a job in my household," Margaret suggested. She didn't think the young Mistress Brandon had done anything but lose her husband for her to earn money, and Margaret Beaufort knew that husbands could easily be replaced.
"That's not necessary either; I promised William when he died his family would be well taken care of. It would be selfish of me to withdraw my promise, and very sinful," Henry replied, disgusted with his mother's offer. Money could be taken out of pocket elsewhere, and he highly doubted that they were short on money. He was frugal with his spending and never went to war.
"Well in any case, the boy should find another schoolroom companion. The Prince deserves an unhindered education without thoughts of play or friendship," Margaret harshly suggested.
"No, and that's the end of it," Henry raised his voice, only to cough afterwards.
Margaret dropped her head to show her obedience, although inside every inch of her wanted to scream in protest. "Shall I send for the physician?" she asked sweetly.
"No, I'll be fine, I just need to rest. You can go now mother," Henry dismissed her with a curt wave of his hand, indicating that their interview was over. He began another fit of coughing while she was leaving.
It was only after she left did he pull his linen handkerchief from his mouth to find it crimson stained with his own blood.
Greenwich Palace
August 2, 1510
Harry had been seven now for nearly two months, and he was still pleased with all of his birthday presents. Every morning when he woke up, he had something fresh to look forward to.
Theology lessons with Thomas. Lessons in archery with his new tutor. Lessons in riding with his father's Master of the Horse. Riding around on his new horse whenever he wanted, usually with Charles Brandon's old horse. Taking out his falcon to show off to his new friends, William Compton and Anthony Knivert, who were both new to court. Being able to ride alongside the court on royal progresses, which they were on that summer.
Life was a lot better after he turned seven, Harry had had decided.
Of course, some things stayed the same. Arthur was the heir and was feted as such.
Katherine was still Arthur's wife, and Harry was still never going to have a wife. His mama hardly was allowed to visit anymore because his stupid grandmother took up all of his time.
And he never saw that girl, Anne Boleyn, to apologize for what had happened. She returned to Hever Castle, her family's home, after their incident by the pond. He still remembered her sweet laughter and her daring boldness. He would probably never see her again, Harry figured sadly, since her father was now stationed in the Netherlands, which were far away from England, and she would be joining him when she turned nine or so, to have her education there. By the time she returned to England, Harry would probably be a bishop or something, all because of his father.
His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the sound of female wailing outside his doorway. He curiously poked his head outside the door, to see his grandmother, in a rare moment of weakness, crying outside with a groom trying to calm her down. "Coughing blood?" her shrill voice questioned, tears streaming down her face.
"That's what the physician has said madam, hopefully he will only be bedridden for a few days and it will pass," the groom in Tudor livery tried to dissuade her, only to fail. She refused to move from the doorway from the King's rooms, and she had forgone all of her dignity by kneeling beside his door, pounding on it relentlessly.
"You don't understand. The girl, that Spanish girl, she will ruin all of my son's work. I have to see him!" Margaret exclaimed, looking up at the poor groom outside of his door, her face pathetic looking.
"Grandmother, what's wrong?" Harry asked, bursting out of his adjacent rooms. His father had commissioned his chambers to be close by his, in absence of Arthur he wished to control Harry.
"His majesty is coughing blood and was not able to rise from his bed this morning to go to his Privy Council meetings, although he insisted that they meet in his bedchamber. This stupid servant will not let me inside his room to see my son!" Margaret answered Harry with a distant look in her eyes, not even making eye contact with her grandson.
"I command you to open those doors. I wish to see my father," Harry addressed the groom, raising himself to full height and puffing out his chest a little bit. He was still the King's son and exercised some control as a Prince of England and the highest peer in England, after his father, brother, and mother. Not even the King's mother ranked higher than him, although she often acted as if she did.
"Forgive me, your grace, but Dr. Linacre forbids anybody that is part of the royal family to be in contact with the King. It is his majesty's orders as well that his beloved sons and daughter, along with mother and wife, be out of harms way," the groom explained, smiling kindly at little Harry. Although Linacre had tried to be hopeful around the King's mother and the poor Queen, who despite her husband's ill treatment of her still loved him, the groom and Linacre both knew that it was the King's iron will that had allowed him to hang on as grimly as he had been. Apparently, Henry had been coughing up blood for quite some time now, but had not told anybody until this morning, when he felt so weak he could not rise from his bed.
"Has the Queen, my mother, been summoned or at least told?" Harry asked, hoping that his mama wouldn't be too upset, and he also hoped that she would come. That way, he could at least see her, since he hadn't seen her since his birthday celebrations in June. He saw his grandmother involuntary cringe at the mention of his mama, which made him angry, too angry to react because if he did he would certainly kick the woman again.
"She has already come, and been denied entry because of Dr. Linacre's probation. She is still in her rooms, as far as I know your grace," the groom explained, a frown enveloping his face at the memory at how the gentle Queen reacted. She did not allow herself to succumb to hysterics, like the King's mother, but she did allow a few tears to fall down her face before turning around to head back to her rooms, where she could cry in private.
Harry nodded and thanked the groom, deciding to use this opportunity while his father was indisposed and his grandmother beside herself to go and visit his mother unhindered. He made his way down to the Queen's apartments at Greenwich, which he was a little bit unfamiliar with. When he reached her rooms, he straightened his doublet and flattened a non-existent wrinkle before entering. The last thing he wanted was his mama to be displeased with him.
"Your majesty, the Duke of York is here to see you," one his mama's ladies announced to her. He smiled widely when he heard her voice gracefully allow him entrance. After a clumsy bow he ran to his mother's chair where she had temporarily set down her needlework to give him a hug, and motioned for him to sit across from her.
"Are you okay, mama?" Harry asked, noticing that her eyes were bloodshot and puffy, which he presumed was from crying.
"I'm fine Harry, just worried about your father that's all," Elizabeth admitted but refrained from telling him the whole truth, that she was terrified. Henry had visited her chambers last night for a while, not to sleep with her, but just to talk idly, mostly about their daughter Margaret, who was dearly beloved by the Scots. He seemed healthy, and although he coughed a few times, she thought nothing of it. He kissed her goodnight and left to sleep in his own chambers. Had she made him sick? Was it going to make her sick? What was going to happen if he died while Arthur was so young? Who would protect her from her evil mother-in-law?
Who would kiss her goodnight and tell her that he loved her?
"When can I get up man?" Henry asked Linacre, impatient with the physician's restrictions. He was anxious to get up, and return back to Richmond. If he was going to die, he wanted to die at his home, not at Greenwich on summer progress.
"Your majesty can be put in a carriage tomorrow morning for your return back to Richmond. I advise your majesty not to overexert yourself when you get back to Richmond, and get plenty of rest. I see no reason why you cannot receive visitors, even your family, for your disease is not contiguous. However, I advise your majesty to stay in bed " Linacre explained, gathering all of his instruments to depart from the King's rooms.
"I don't want them to see me like this, but I suppose it's necessary. I have things I need to tell Arthur," Henry stressed, going to sit up but his head felt like lead and it dragged him down. He didn't want to die without his succession being firmly placed in his oldest son, and he wanted to thank his mother and wife. He wanted to die peacefully and without regret, and at Richmond.
Ludlow Castle
Katherine fingered the message given to her by the King's messenger. It was written by Dr. Linacre, the physician who attended Arthur when he had the sweat. The King was ill. The King was coughing blood. It was most likely the King was going to die.
She could taste it, it was almost there. She could feel the weight of the crown being passed onto her head. She could feel the fabric of her coronation gown smooth against her skin. She could feel the carriage ride through London at her coronation with the banners "A.K." streaming down all the buildings. She could almost see Arthur's blonde head with St. Edward's crown firmly on top of it. She could hear the people cheering their names, and the men tipping their hats the new King and Queen.
She was raised to be the Princess of Wales. Ever since she was a three year old girl, instead of playing or being read stories by one's mother, Katherine was schooled in the ways of a monarch, in the ways of a Catholic Monarch. Her mother raised her to be the future Queen of England, to protect the interests of her inherited country as well as the country of her birth. Despite being away from her home for a long time, Katherine could see the smile on her mother's face when she would hear the news that her youngest daughter had fulfilled her destiny.
It wasn't that she hated King Henry. She was sorry to see him die. Arthur was fond of his father, despite his sometimes harsh treatment of his wife and children and his blind love towards his mother. It was just that the death of King Henry was the end of her life under the protection of a watchful parent monarch and the fulfillment of her destiny given to her by GOD. It was the beginning of her reign as Katherine, Queen of England, and those were the four sweetest words ever to come out of one's mouth.
King Arthur. Queen Katherine. The young Catholic King and Queen. The beginning of a new era in England. The ending of a frugal and miserly King and his evil mother.
Katherine intended to be a just ruler and intended to aide Arthur in the creation of a second Camelot. Their court would set a standard of entertainment, youthfulness, and justice for all of Europe; even the invincible French Courts would be in awe of Queen Katherine and King Arthur's court. They would maintain peace and order by keeping true to the treaty with the Scots. They would protect England from the Moors, and protect the interests of all of Christendom.
Dreaming about her England was morbid at the time of another King's death, but Katherine couldn't help it. She couldn't even bring herself to go and see the dying King; for fear that her smile would be too wide and would anger the temperamental man. She was at Ludlow in any case, so her absence and Arthur's wouldn't be noticed until the court moved to Richmond. Arthur was summoned to his father's time of dying, and as his wife, Katherine would go with him.
She willed herself not to smile when she came to Arthur's chambers to comfort him, even though it was clear that although Arthur did love his father, his death meant one thing.
Margaret Beaufort, the dragon lady, would be seriously downgraded, and neither of them were displeased about that.
She frowned and hugged him when he said how sorry he was to hear his beloved father was nearing his time, but he couldn't even bring himself to cry because he was aware, like Katherine was aware, that their time was approaching.
They were both ready.
Alright, well that's all for this chapter. King Henry VII is sick, but since this is AU, nobody knows when I am going to kill him off! Next chapter will be MUCH longer (since this one is a dud) and it will include a jump in years.
Until next time, your reviews and feedback are greatly appreciated! Thank you for reading!
