Hallelujah

'Your love leaves me cold'

Under The Tongue by Damien Rice

Warning: Intimate examination, masturbation and voyeurism…

6th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

Tearful dark eyes, with bruise-like shadows smeared under them, observed the tall tanned Spaniard in front of her, watching as he carefully palpated her tender stomach. His hands were gentle but still she winced, her mind casting back to the bloodied sheets and her husband's terrified face. At the thought of Edward, a tear tracked down her thin face. Just when she thought they were making progress, she had to miscarry their baby.

"Ma'am, I must examine you intimately. Mistress Howard and Lady Boleyn will remain by your side to offer you support and to chaperone this medical inspection" the physician's gruff voice broke through Anne's thoughts.

She nodded at him, shuffling down the large bed and laying still. Jane Boleyn stood rigidly by the doctor as he washed in hands in an alcohol solution, her eyes staring at the wall in front of her, pink tinging her cheeks. Little Kitty, kind as she was, sat by Anne's side, her tiny hand holding Anne's as she whispered cheery gossip to her cousin about other courtiers. Anne tensed as she felt Doctor González' prodding fingers enter her, cringing, at the sting of the alcohol on her sore muscles. He felt around gently, murmuring to himself in Spanish, before withdrawing his fingers.

"Ma'am, I do not think you lost the baby. I think the bleeding was merely from overstimulation to a sensitive cervix. I would advise you to refrain from sexual intercourse for six weeks… I would also suggest that you rest often and eat well. My daughter is here with me at court. I have taught her many things about anatomy, she is a quick learner and very skilled with…women's issues. I can arrange for her to join your retinue until you give birth and she can administer my elixirs to you and take care of your general health. I, of course, will still do weekly appointments with you", his hooded eyes stared at the lady before him, noting the gleeful smile that spread across her angular face.

"Of course, Doctor González, your daughter will be most welcome in my household. Please do inform my husband that our child is healthy", she grinned at him, her slender hand cupping her small bump, tears of happiness rolling down her face.

XX

7th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London

Elizabeth was excited. Today was an important day, today she turned three. Three was an odd number, she was too big to be carried around by her ladies and too big to call her governess 'Muggie' anymore but too small to be allowed to attend the magnificent feasts that her father held. Baroness Bryan had told her that three was an important number for her mother had gotten her a special present, but Baroness Bryan had not told Elizabeth what it was. Which was very unfair as Elizabeth was a Princess and Princesses always got what they wanted. She skipped along the long corridor of her father's favourite residence, hopping over the slabs of stonework, laughing at the loud slap her satin slippers made as they hit the Reigate stone. She could not wait to see her whole family today and receive all her gifts. Baroness Bryan had told Elizabeth that her grandmother was travelling up from Hever to see her too.

She came to a halt outside the large doors, barring the entrance to the Throne Room. She held Baroness Bryan's hand tightly as she waited for her proclamation. At the sound of the herald's voice, Elizabeth step forwards, her dark eyes searching around the chamber of courtiers for people she recognised. She could see Uncle George and Aunt Jane standing by the large fireplace, smiling kindly at her, she gave them a beam back before her eyes continued searching. Grandmother and Grandfather Boleyn, Grandmother Agnes and Uncle Norfolk were gathered by the right-hand side of the group, appraising the Princess with pride. Frantic and excited waving drew Elizabeth's attention to her cousin, Kitty, who was with Elizabeth's step-aunt, Lizzie Seymour and Lady Nan. Her mother sat on a chair, pale and tired but beaming with pride at her daughter. As much as Elizabeth wanted, she knew she could not go straight to her mother. She had to greet her father, the King, first and show him her good manners.

"Bonjour votre majesté" greeted Elizabeth, remembering the small bits of French her mother had taught her.

"Non, mon père, ma belle princesse. Je me demande quel jour il est?" Henry smiled indulgently to his fair daughter, pleased at her intelligence.

"C'est mon anniversaire. J'ai trois ans. Je suis très excite", Elizabeth preened under the applause of her father and his court, her face flushing pink. Her dark eyes looked to her mother for approval, pleased to see her nod.

"My beautiful princess, we wish you a very happy birthday. I will take you to get your gift later, my darling".

Elizabeth grinned toothily, her dark eyes wide with excitement. At her father's dismissing nod, she curtsied first to him and then to his wife before walking over to her mother, careful to carry herself regally. Her mother looked poorly but her thin lips cracked into a large smile as she encircled her daughter, kissing her red curls.

"Lizabeth, this is for you" she whispered, handing over a carefully wrapped parcel. The toddler ripped into the present eagerly, squealing with delight as she saw beautiful gowns of gold and blue and purple. She threw her arms around her mother, thanking her profusely.

"That's not all, Lizabeth. I have ordered a new doll for you and it will be in your rooms when you return to the nursery. But this is my friend, Jean Belmain. Now that you are three and a big girl, Monsieur Belmain will be tutoring you in French. Now run along my darling and allow everyone else to wish you a happy birthday".

XX

8th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

Kitty was bored, so very bored. Anne had dismissed them, stating that she wished to be with her brother and sister-in-law, telling them to go and have fun. Lizzie had been beckoned into a family meeting. Kitty did not envy her there, Thomas Seymour was certainly not a nice person to be around, his eyes reminded her of Mannox. Nan had chosen to go into the town herself to pick up some vegetables for Anne.

She sighed heavily, drifting along the long hallway, looking at all the old stuffy monarchs in the paintings. She couldn't understand why the sitters didn't smile for their portraits. She entered the large garden, smiling up at the bright sun, enjoying it while it lasted.

"Katherine Howard, please come over her!"

The sharp tone of her grandmother made Kitty jump as she twisted round to look behind her. Spotting her grandmother sitting erectly on a wooden bench, she scampered along quickly.

"Grandmother, Aunt" she greeted, curtsying carefully. Her soft eyes glanced at the two unknown individual standing by her family. One was a tall, brown haired male with gentle green eyes and the other was a willowy, pretty, brunette with a sharp nose.

"Katherine, it is lovely to see you again, my dear" smiled Elizabeth Boleyn, her Howard blonde hair hidden by her French hood.

"Yes, yes, Elizabeth. There is absolutely no need for this ridiculous small-talk. Thank goodness, George and Anne take after their father. He understands the need to be precise" scolded Agnes in irritation, scowling at her step-daughter.

Elizabeth sighed heavily, "Step-mother, there is no need to be so rude. I haven't seen Katherine since she was seven".

"It's okay, Aunt Elizabeth. How can I help you, Grandmother?" Kitty inquired, fiddling with the sleeve of her rose-pink gown, she hoped her grandmother didn't have a task that was too taxing.

"The girl over here" Agnes started, prodding her cane at the pretty brunette stood by her, "is your second cousin. Her name is also Catherine. Her father was William Carey, a favourite of his majesty".

"Catherine is the eldest child of my daughter, Mary. She will be entering our Anne's service on the 16th but we were hoping you could show her the ropes and become friends. You are close in age too, Cathy is thirteen too".

"Okay, that's fine. We shall be off then. I'm going to pick flowers for the Marquess to cheer her up".

"Oh, and Kitty, please take this boy with you. He's loitering around and blocking my breeze" snapped Agnes, waving the tall boy away.

Kitty laughed, gesturing for the boy to follow them as they walked through the grounds, before apologising for her grandmother.

"Sorry about my Grandmother, she is rather like those sea dogs you hear the sailors in the markets go on about. I'm Kitty, one of the Marquess' ladies, and you've obviously met Cathy. What's your name?"

He smiled wolfishly at her, his eyes glinting in the sunlight, "Tom…Tom Culpeper".

XX

10th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

"Edward, have I upset you?"

The question shocked the tall man as his head shot out of his leather-bound bible, glancing at his wife in puzzlement.

"No, why? Have you done something that may upset me?".

Anne shook her head, her raven curls tumbling from its loose bun and falling round her shoulders, her slim fingers rubbing her stomach.

"Of course not. It's just that…well…you seem to be ignoring me".

His brow raised in question, as if it were protesting at her words. He snapped the book shut and regarded her heavy-lidded eyes.

"I'm not ignoring you, foolish wife"

"Yes, you are. I thought we were making progress before…"

"You mean before I almost killed our baby".

Anne sighed, her eyes downcast, focusing on the small stitching of the gown she was making for their baby.

"You didn't. It wasn't your fault".

"Wasn't my fault? Of course, it was. I let my stupid desire get the best of me. My mother had told me sex was to be abstained from during pregnancy and like a green boy, one look of you send me into a frenzy" he spat, red blooming across his sharp cheekbones.

"Edward, I wanted you just as much. I miss you"

"No, no, I will never again touch you".

"Oh Edward, don't be so dramat…OH" she gasped, clutching her stomach.

Edward jumped from his seat, fear bubbling in his stomach as he stared worriedly at his wife, trying to work out whether he should run for the physician.

"Edward, come here" she murmured, tears filling her eyes.

He crept towards her, heart pounding before she took his hand and placed it against her bump. He watched her face, confusion blurring his thoughts until he felt a small ripple against his palm. He jumped as he felt it again, his eyes shooting towards Anne's face which cracked into a bright smile.

"That's our baby. That's our little baby"

XX

12th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

Blue eyes glanced up at the foreboding palace in fear. She had never stayed at this one before. When she had been welcome at court, almost six years ago now, her father had favoured Greenwich or Whitehall. She looked up at the exquisite stonework, a carving catching her attention. An A and H intertwined, signifying the love between her father and his previous wife. The renovators had obviously missed this one.

She shivered, pulling her flimsy black cloak around her tightly, flinching at the way the rain bit at her ankles. The cloak, like everything else she owned, was old and much too small for her. Her gaze drifted back to the tall man behind her, noting the angry glare he gave her, and she reached for the heavy knocker on the door.

A single rap had the door pulling open sharply. In front of her was a wiry and calculating looking man with eyes as black as coal.

"Sir Francis" he greeted her chaperone first, a sly smile toying at the end of his lips. He allowed the man to storm past him, muttering about how irritating pretentious bastards were, before falling on the drenched young woman in front of him.

"Lady Mary, your father was so happy to hear that you were willing to sign the oath. His Majesty asked that you come to the throne room tomorrow and sign the oath. You will then be given your own lodging and new gowns, as well as becoming a respected lady to Queen Jane".

Mary nodded sorrowfully, following Cromwell. She felt like she was following the devil himself. No matter how much she wanted to, she would not allow any of them the privilege of seeing her cry. She was the daughter of Catherine, Queen of England, and she would make them remember that.

XX

12th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

Pale eyes watched the agitated man in front of her, picking at his food and throwing bits he didn't want to his hounds, Cut and Ball. She shook her head distastefully at his slobbering beasts, cutting into the chicken breast in front of her.

"You've been spending a lot of time with the Princess and her mother" she began, carefully keeping her eyes from contacting his.

"The Princess is a credit to me. She is the cleverest, any man would wish for a girl like her. I was very sad to see her go back to Hatfield today, but court is no place for a child" he smiled at his wife, daring her to argue.

"Yes, the Princess is a lovely girl, your Majesty. I guess with the Princess back at Hatfield, you will no longer need to fraternise with the Marquess" she simpered, taking a sip from her red wine.

Henry's steel blue eyes sharply regarded his wife before he waspily responded, "the Marquess and I will need to talk about betrothals for our daughter. You cannot expect the Princess' mother to have no say in her child's future".

"Of course not, but now with the Lady Mary willing to sign the oath, perhaps we could look at a marriage for her. She is, after all, of an age to marry".

"Must I remind you of what almost became of my previous wife".

Jane shivered, shaking her head quickly. Everyone had heard the rumours that Anne Boleyn was going to be investigated for adultery against the King and even she knew that adultery was an act of treason. Anne had escaped the executioner's block when she had allowed Henry to divorce her and marry her off. She glanced back at her husband, noting the tell-tale angriness across his cheeks.

"Your Majesty…I must mention I am rather craving oranges" she murmured, watching him perk up from beneath her lashes.

He stood abruptly from the table before rushing to Jane's side, kneeling beside her.

"Oh Jane, you've made me so happy. When will we have our Edward?" he smiled.

She froze for a moment, fear coursing through her. What if the babe was a girl? Or worse, what if the babe was stillborn? She trembled before collecting herself.

"March…The babe is due in the Spring".

XX

13th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

Anxiety sat in the pit of her stomach, twisting itself into knots. Cromwell, the snake, had not informed her that she would be required to sign the oath in front of the courtiers. She heard the herald announce her (well announce her incorrectly, for she was a Princess not a Lady). She took a deep breath, welcoming the fresh air, and squared her shoulders.

She entered the room gracefully, holding her head high. She was a Princess, the daughter Queen Catherine of Aragon, granddaughter of the Catholic Monarchs. She was twice as royal as anyone in the room, including her father. Although as she took in the fine dresses of the court ladies, a slight tinge of embarrassment stabbed at her. Mary knew how shabby she looked in her dour black gown that was two inches too short.

"Your Majesty" she curtsied deeply to the man she had once loved more than anything in the world.

"The Lady Mary is here today to sign the oath. We must credit his grace, the Duke of Norfolk for working the miracle" laughed Henry, letting the courtiers chuckle nervously.

Mary's blue eyes shot to the Duke. He was dressed finely in velvet robes, his mistress by his side. The old lady sat by him was his stepmother, the waspish Dowager Countess of Norfolk. She had been Mary's Godmother, but Anne was her granddaughter and well…loyalty meant a lot to the Howards. She spotted the sour face of Thomas Boleyn glaring at her, his wife stood beside him. Unlike Thomas Boleyn, Lady Boleyn's face was kind as she looked upon Mary. George Boleyn and his wife, Lady Jane were also present, much to Mary's annoyance. She had thought the Boleyn and Howard fraction had fallen but there were even more of them than before. She spotted two young girls of the fraction; one blonde and energetic, the other brunette and serious. She looked around for the woman who had taken everything from her, but she could not see her with her family.

Time passed by in a blur and then Mary realised it was time to sign. She itched with a desire to scream loudly "I AM THE RIGHTFUL HEIR OF THE ENGLISH THRONE". But she kept quiet, the quill in her hand felt as though it was on fire. Chapuys had promised that the God and the Pope would forgive her for signing but Mary wasn't sure if she could forgive herself. Carefully, she signed the parchment, a single tear rolling down her pale face. As she looked up, she spotted Anne stood with Lord Seymour, her hand resting on her small bump. Yet Anne's face held no sign of glee at Mary's signing, only sadness.

"Lady Mary, welcome home" congratulated Cromwell, his smug smile directed at Mary. Mary glanced at all the familiar faces around her before looking towards the Queen who seemed to be avoiding all eye contact with Mary. She is no friend of yours. You are all alone here.

XX

16th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

His head was pounding as he entered the large chambers belonging to his household. Family meetings always drove him insane. Lizzie was lucky enough to be excluded from most for not being 'trustworthy'. Father had deemed her friendship with Anne a betrayal. He felt like he was banging his head against a wall the entire time. At least this time, Jane had announced that she was pregnant with what they all hoped was a boy. But then their father had reminded them that the courtiers would be watching both Anne and Jane carefully, making their pregnancies a competition.

He closed the door behind him, slipping off his boots and tossing his doublet onto the large chaise sitting in their outer chambers. He could hear the excited nattering of the little blonde Howard and the shushing of his sister, Lizzie. As he entered the room, he nodded at the maids milling around, offering them a tight smile. Kitty waved back happily, and Edward had to admit that the teenager was growing on him. Cathy was sitting by his sister, braiding Lizzie's blonde locks into a new fashion from 'Paris' and Nan was reading out loud from the Tyndale bible.

"Anne, what on earth are you doing?" he asked, observing his wife slouched over the bureau scribbling frantically.

"Calculations"

"Calculations of…" he sighed, irritated with her lack of explanation. He came up behind her, his eyes sweeping over her calligraphy.

"You want to fund schools…in Hever, Pembroke and Great Bedwyn?".

She nodded, glancing up at her husband's furrowed brows.

"Do not tell me it is a stupid idea Edward. The poor are having their monasteries closed. We both know that I am a reformer, but Cromwell is closing them without a thought towards what he is taking from them".

He nodded in understanding, drawing a chair up beside her.

"Yes, those monasteries provided hospitals and schools for the unfortunate. If we are closing their help down, then they will not want to convert to the true faith. They will see us as heretics taking away things that help them".

"You understand. When I told Cromwell, back when I was Queen, he said I was sticking my nose into things I did not comprehend but I do. We must show the poor that we mean to help them by turning them away from the corruption of the Catholic church. That's why I want to open three schools for boys. And then if they prove successful, I have plans to open one for intelligent females in Pembroke and fund a place for them to go for healthcare in Hever" she smiled brightly at Edward, her ink stained fingers dropping piles of parchment on his lap.

"Anne, I cannot contribute money, or I would, but I can use my influence in the reformation to get others to fund your project. We would also need to go to a printers to get them to spread word around. If it works out, we could show his Majesty that the money recouped from the monasteries could be put to better use than to fill the coffers of his men".

They were interrupted by a knock on the door. Anne shoved the papers into the bureau. It would not do for Cromwell to discover her plans and muck around with them before she had a chance to put them into motion. With her husband's backing.

A petite lady entered the room, her gaze focusing on Anne. She curtsied carefully before introducing herself in a lilting voice.

"Your Grace, I am Bridget González. My father said you would be expecting me".

Anne observed the Spaniard in front of her. She was dressed simply in a country gown of cornflower blue. Her ebony hair was tied into a tight bun and her eyes were mesmerising; looking grey in some light but violet in another. A small beauty spot sat under her right eye.

"Yes, we were expecting you. You are very welcome, Lady Bridget. This is my husband, Lord Seymour and these are my ladies: Nan, Lizzie, Kitty and Cathy. They will make you feel very welcome".

At Bridget's confident smile, Anne felt assured that she was in good hands.

XX

25th September 1536, Hampton Court Palace, London,

It was the last day at Hampton before the court moved on its progress to Sudeley before settling at Whitehall before Christmas. Henry found himself in a joyful mood, life was treating him well. He had received a letter from Baroness Bryan stating how intelligent Elizabeth was and how well she was progressing in her French lessons already, Jane seemed to be happier of late too with her pregnancy. They were planning to announce it to the court on All Hallows Eve. Even his daughter, the Lady Mary was settling into her role as a maid of honour to Jane.

He was on his wife to Lord Seymour's chambers, wanting to make sure that the Marquess would follow them to Sudeley. He found himself missing her company since he had stopped seeing her once Elizabeth had returned to Hatfield. He planned to ask her to accompany on a slow wander around Hampton's gardens to discuss Elizabeth's possible betrothals. Although there was no need to get Elizabeth married off yet, especially with his son on the way, he just need an excuse to see Anne again. He found himself missing her more and more when confronted with Jane's meekness.

Arriving at the chambers he was surprised to see no guards outside until he realised they would be packing up the carriages with the Seymours' belongings. He pushed open the heavy oak door, noting the emptiness of the chambers. Henry reached the inner chambers of their bedroom and quietly opened the door. He noticed a large tin bath by the fireplace, ready for its occupant. His blue eyes darted round searching for Anne before falling on her.

He watched as she slipped the silk nightgown from her shoulders, revealing her beautiful ivory skin. At the sight of her perk breasts, he felt himself grow hard. He unlaced his breeches, gripping his hard cock and playing with himself. He watched as she delved into the hot bathtub, moaning as the water washed over her aches. He could remember her moans as he fucked her. At the memory, he felt himself spill into his hand.

God, he wanted her. No, he needed her. He would offer her the position of his mistress with the promise of legitimising any of their children. He would promise her the whole world if he meant he could be inside her one more time.

Besides he was a King. And Kings always get what they want.

XX

I hope the wait was worth it. I'm sorry the update has taken so long but my life has been overtaken by assignments and fun with my toddler. So, this chapter has introduced some new characters (hello to A New Rose's character, Bridget), announced another pregnancy and we have seen the bonding between Edward and Anne (Thanks for the idea Jen!), however Henry has decided he wants Anne again…and well a King always gets what he wants.

In 1889, William Stewart Halsted, the first chief of surgery at Johns Hopkins Hospital, invented rubber gloves to prevent medical staff from developing dermatitis from surgical chemicals. In the Tudor times, there was not an understanding of bacteria or germs, so they would not have realised that regular handwashing and wearing protection prevented the transmission of disease. Doctor González is a physician trained in Granada by the Moors, he has a better understanding of illness than the typical English doctors, therefore he washes his hands with a solution of alcohol.

I will also say that in Islamic medicine, even in the medieval times, women were found to practise medicine. Due to religion, male doctors often were accompanied by females to protect and respect the wishes of the female patient. It was common practise for males to refer their female patients to female physicians. In comparison, women in Europe were not allowed to be involved with medicine. They could be 'midwives' but were not given any respect and often viewed with suspicion.

DISCLAIMER – I am not a native French speaker. I can speak basic A-Level French but no more than that, so I apologise for any mistakes.

'Bonjour votre majesté.' – 'Bonjour Your Majesty'.

'Non, mon père, ma belle princesse. Je me demande quel jour il est?' – 'No, Father to you, my beautiful princess. I wonder what day it is?'

'C'est mon anniversaire. J'ai trois ans. Je suis très excité.' – 'It's my birthday, I am three. I am very excited'.

A sea dog is a shark. Sharks were not named Sharks until 1569 by Sir John Hawkins, when he displayed one in London stating it was a "Sharke".

Henry VIII had two hounds named Cut and Ball who liked to go missing A LOT. Henry often paid out large sums of 15 shillings (£225 now) to those who brought his beloved dogs home.

Mary Tudor's godparents were: The Countess Of Devon – Katherine of York, Lord Chancellor Thomas Wolsey and The Dowager Countess of Norfolk – Agnes Tilney-Howard.

Next Time: The Pilgrimage of Grace occurs and this will affect all of our main characters!