A/N:
This will contain harder adult themes. Don't like don't read, I warn you will be hard and a lot of things like love, hatred as well as God's existence and the Church will be put into question.
(And yes I do admire JFK, as you see, haha lol)
Here you go, courtesy of me and my coauthor PrincessAnna:
Chapter 9: "Illusions"
"When power leads men towards arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the areas of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of his existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses" - JFK, Speech at Amherst College, Amherst (October 26th, 1963)
--
I don't know what is worse. To be betrayed by your family or to betray yourself. I guess in the end it does not matter anymore.
The rain drops from the place I was staying at started to bother me. The men who promised me and my husband John, to clean up and fix this mess had cheated us of our money once again. It was not fair. While my father was enjoying his stay with his precious little Meg at her wedding, I was forced to stay here with a good-for-nothing-husband, practically living in penury.
Anne another thorn to my spine; she had won over Meg and all the Country with her false smiles, she was just like the King's mother, they all were. They pretended to love the people and be loyal to their husbands, but from the inside they were just as ugly as every human being on the face of Christendom.
I dropped a small cross that I was praying on, it belonged once to my father, the ex-Chancellor Sir Thomas More, I hated that he could not be here with me, and Meg; even though she always bothers me with her perfect attitude, I still miss her. I cannot believe they did not let me attend her wedding, I would have behaved and caused no mayhem there, but dear father saw it fit for me to remain alongside my husband.
'How I hate him.'- I think with passion how he always does this to me; casting me aside, and leaving me for that awful sister of mine, little Miss Chastity, Meg Roper-Locksley nee More, who has always been the shadow and love of my father's heart.
When my mother lived, my true mother and not Alice; I was the favorite one, the one with prospects and future. My father would use to hang me around in his strong arms, then show me off to my mum and say to her that they both had begotten the most beautiful child on Christendom. Sometimes my mother even went further with exaggeration and excitement, and said that I was the most beautiful child in all the world, that my blond hairs like hers shone with the light of the blessing of the Virgin Mary herself.
It was pure extasy, we were all happy, and me and Meg were best friends. But it all changed when my mother died. My father became farther and farther away from me, and turned his attentions to Meg.
My brows tensed as well as my body as I felt a kick coming from my belly. I reached my hand for my stomach, and I could feel the life inside of me, a life that was growing and nurturing from the inside of my womb. The more I heard kicks from the creature that inhabited me, the more I knew that God had sent me a blessing in disguise through my half brother, Henry. The passionate Henry VIII who like me was always misunderstood by father.
My father never really took care of his children, he thought he did, but he never did. The only good memories I have of that man is when my mother lived, Joanne, with her beauty and smiles she would always soothe my father and his favor would always be found in me, not Meg. Back at that time; he also forgot about his lost son Henry. When John, the last surviving son my mother ever bore to him, came into the world; my father forgot about the King, his works, Katherine and his writing. He dedicated half of his life to us, his new and true family.
I have always seen John as a weakling, nonetheless; he was a great company when nobody was there for me, when Alice came and took our father by surprise. I don't have anything against Alice, she was a good woman, but lately my parent's troubled marriage has left scars on all of us. Alice will not let him go, and Thomas will not let go Katherine, and there in lies the question, of who will give up who first.
Whether it's my father giving up his old love for Katherine; or my mother Alice giving up her true love of Thomas, my father, it really is a question that has no answer or end to it.
I picked up my cross and watched it, the only reminder I have of my father. He has made no attempt to visit me, when I went into his home he saw me, but that was it, there were no hello attempts or warm welcoming. Alice just led me to a small guest room, then they told me both they were going to see Meg's wedding and that I was to stay at Chelsea for the remainder of my visit, before I came they expected me to leave, especially my father.
My bags and chests containing all the clothing that I was supposed to bring to stay at my father's place; were all neatly packed. He did not want me there, and Alice as long as she could be with her husband, didn't want me there either. I left and returned to my bitter home with John. He barely noticed me, he was always to enthralled in his day dreaming, much like my father, that he hardly payed any attention to me or the children.
When the child inside me would be born, Anne, my former ugly Mistress; was sure to snap out of her patience -('if she had any' I thought wryly)- and send all of her family dogs after me and my child, the only security I had was that my brother Henry would hear my plight and ignore his crazy wife's rantings, to help me through this ordeal and perhaps give my baby a royal name and title to survive in this cruel world that his or her parents lived in.
1533
May 13th, Richmond Palace.
Anne was in the waiting room. After many hours and moments of pain, she had finally delivered England's hope, a healthy baby boy. Anne couldn't be happier.
She finally had the future of England in her hands, and not only that; but also the salvation that would secure her position along with Elizabeth's. Now Henry had no reason to deny her, or deny their daughter's future cravings and desires, they now had an heir for England's throne, Henry's much desired-for-boy.
After so much exhaustion, Linacre, the Royal Physician had told Anne and the midwives that it was best to let her rest and leave her in peace. She sighed in relief as she felt all of the people in the birth room leave her.
--
1533, May 14th.
Richmond Palace, King's Quarters.
To say that the King was happy was falling short of words. The King was not only in living ecstasy, he was filled with joy and a sense of greatness as he held his newborn son in his hands. He was so beautiful, and he was Henry's.
The King laughed with joy and madness as he screamed to the heavens and to God that he finally had a son. As if feeling that God had answered his outburst he turned to Cromwell who smiled at his King's happiness, and Henry, gave the baby to one of the midwives to take care of him.
Chancellor Cromwell, now his most trusted advisor and right hand to his Kingdom, knew that the King's position and his dynasty were now secure and safe, to continue with the Reformation and rid England of the Papist threat that had ravaged England for many centuries.
The Archbishop Cranmer and Cromwell now stood side by side to the King in all of his biddings, they convinced themselves that it was all for the good of the Country and for the good of the people, (who had been mocked and laughed at by the own Church that claimed their salvation by the Pope, a bishop foreign to their worries who made himself richer with every tax he imposed to his Catholic dominions, while leaving the poor people to wallow in their missery), and this was what both men were trying to protect in the end, the people. Whose salvation through the blood of Christ laid not in the Pope or the Churches built by men, but by believing in only in God and in Jesus Christ. Cranmer fully grew up with this belief that like Luther, God should be a force reacheble to all men, not just those who preached in His Name.
Cromwell; on the other hand, thought differently, he viewed the importance of having Lutheran beliefs within the old Church, but did not necesarily see it fit like his fellow Cranmer, to abolish all canon law and immediately replace it with Luther's. People needed their symbols, because more than just images they represented an ideal, something that could never fail to inspire people to be better and strive for greatness.
Yet their beliefs in the end were just that, beleifs. None of them were King or Pope to decide what they would do to England. That lay in the hands of politicians and the King himself, who at this moment, the birth of a son left him to the mercy of his new wife, the Queen, and his Counselors.
Henry however; knew he had to take care in every new decission he made, so far he had been succesful in the dissolution of the old monasteries and transfering the riches to him, but his daughter Mary and previos marriage to Isabella had weaken his position considerably to the people. They no longer saw him as the young vibrant King who was so full of promise and joy, instead they now saw him as power hungry tyrant like his grandfather, Henry VII of the Tudors. The King of England and protector to the Tudor Dynasty knew that he had to watch his back carefully now if he ever wanted his Country to be at peace once more. 'Peace'-Henry thought, seemed more now like an illusion than ever before.
More Household:
Chelsea State, Kent: England.
Mary Tudor, once the Heir Pressumptive, then apparent to the throne of her father and future Lady of Ireland, now seemed more wallowed in defeat. Since the horrible news when she arrived to the More that she had been bastardized and declared an illegitimate daughter of her mother's (but not her father's), Mary was left with a broken family portrait of her life. It was impossible to think that her father, the man who always loved her and showed her off to all the noble men in the Country now rejected her claiming she wasn't his daughter.
It was the strongest blow Mary could ever receive. And then there was her grandmother, Katherine of Aragon who lay in seclusion and was not allowed to write or visit Mary or any of her grandchildren. For her grandmother Mary knew it was a harsh blow too, but none more harsh than what Mary felt, if it wasn't for her grandfather, her true grandfather - Thomas More- present at the moment that Thomas Boleyn gave her the news, there was no question what she would do. Thomas More, her grandmother's fling and true grandfather, had been a great help for Mary in this past month through the sadness and and the hard nights when she would wake up crying and wailing for her mother or grandmother to come. He was always there for her, him and Alice who she secretly called in private Step Grandmother. The woman was more than happy to abide to Mary's wishes whom she felt obligated to.
Mary was happy at Chelsea, every day discussing with her grandfather about theology, books and God. He had become sort of a theist recently, while she remained ardent to the old ways, she told Thomas that it was the only thing she had left of her mother to remember her by.
A/N:
Hope you like it. Expect more drama and yes Mary is staying here with Thomas because not only does Anne want her far, but she sees Mary as a threat and being away from Elizabeth is what settles her at ease. Henry however; does not plan to let go of Mary easily.
As to why did I put JFK's quote like that? Because in other chapters you see a Henry who is hungry for power, arrogant and mallicious, most of the characters we see their darker side taking hold of them. And like Kennedy once said that if power corrupts men - in this case Henry and the characters- poetry or the beauty of life can bring them back from the illusion of their arrogance, that is that healthy baby that Anne bore to Henry brought him closer to his humanity and briefly from his hold on Power that was displaying his arrogance. The same goes for Mary.
