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8 Months later…
In the Palace of Placentia, Greenwich, Every single person was in a hassle. The nobility and commoners alike waited for the birth of the heir and future King of England. The Queens chambers were isolated from the rest and only a few important figures were allowed to stay in the antechamber that led to Anne's birthing room. The King impatiently stomped through the waiting room, awaiting the birth of his son. His precious Queen was been bedridden for months and the agonising labour had gone on for 3 days. He had ordered the best physicians and mid wives to attend to his wife and yet none of them could hurry up the birth of his long awaited son. All of the royal physicians and astrologers had predicted a son and the French king had already been asked to stand as his godfather.
Impatience was growing and Henry's famous Tudor temper bubbled inside of him "Bloody Hell! How long must this take?!"
Thomas Boleyn who stood nearby the King, bowed and responded "Your son is on his way, your majesty. He will soon be born, patience is vital."
Henry growled and continued to stride around his privy chamber, gnawing his fingers intolerantly.
Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon exhaled and poured the King another drink. He tapped his fingers on the wooden table, everyone was convinced the child was to be a male and so was he. Many skilled astrologers told the King his next heir would be his long awaited heir and son. Charles wondered if they were lying to please the King or truthfully being honest.
The Queens screeching yells could be heard and Henry perked up every time as if her pain was a great blow to him.
"Damn, child birth is a pain in the ass" hissed Henry, taking a gulp of the red wine.
"Aye, it is, Majesty" muttered Charles.
"I want my son named as Edward" said Henry, his eyes gleaming, imagining a strong and hearty son to play with. It was a dream Henry always had as he gazed at his and Catherine's still born sons.
"A fine name for an heir" said Charles Brandon, refilling his goblet with wine. "But I'd prefer Charles" he joked.
Henry grinned at his friends jest "Nah, Edward is a finer name. He will be christened after his great grandfather"
And what if the child isn't a boy? Charles thought but he sustained to share the King's joy.
"Or name your son after his father's long-time friend?" teased Charles.
Laughing, Henry patted him on the back "In your dreams, Charles"
After what seemed like ages of waiting, a chamberlain burst through the room and gave the King in the privy chamber a stroppy curtsy.
"Your majesty, The Queen is currently in labour, your son is near-term" cried the man.
King Henry roared in delight and pulled Charles into a hard, ecstatic embrace. "My son is on his way, Charles. Come we must make our way to the Queen"
Nodding, Charles stood as Thomas Boleyn and his son followed Henry out. King Henry almost ran through the corridor to reach Anne's chamber.
The four men silently stood outside Anne's birthing chamber. Her squeals were quenched as Thomas Boleyn reassured Henry that Anne was currently giving a safe delivery.
Charles leaned around the glass window pane, watching the commotion ahead of him. Henry was busy pacing outside Anne's chamber, his expression filled with both excitement and joy. Thomas Boleyn, the ever single-minded, ambitious man beamed at the King and George Boleyn remained elated, taking deep breaths.
Finally, the sound of a screaming new born infant packed the air and Henry breathed a sigh of relief and content. As Charles continued to witness the ordeal, he began to wonder why the midwives were not yet carrying the King's son to present the next heir of England to his father. Finally, Charles understood why.
It seemed like the whole world remained still as one of the grim physicians sauntered out of the Queen's chamber and loudly proclaimed that the Queen had delivered a healthy daughter.
King Henry remained quiet and motionless as the old physician delivered the unwanted information. It was clear that the news of his daughter's birth came to him as a heavy blow and yet Henry looked on expressionless at Anne's chamber. On the king's right, Thomas Boleyn looked absolutely shocked and bewildered but hid his discontent behind a mere, simple smile.
Charles eyed Henry and was surprised to see a fleeting smile cross his features. Entering the chamber, Henry grinned at Anne and declared "If god can give us a healthy daughter, with his good grace he will bless us with a healthy son"
Gingerly, Henry picked up his daughter and looked over her delicate features. "A beautiful princess she will be." He muttered.
Anne who lay on the bed, extremely and utterly exhausted from her confinement, took a hold of Henry's hand and proclaimed "I want to name our daughter after your mother, Elizabeth."
The King smiled at her words and kissed Anne's brow. "A fine name for a true born princess"
As the Duke of Suffolk observed the royal couple, he decided it was time to pay a visit to the nearby brothel. He was in desperate need of a whore's company to satisfy his quarreled mind.
Margaret felt like her windpipe was being crushed by a painful, harsh weight. She couldn't breathe or talk, not a single word could escape her mouth as it was all covered in pants and gasps. The pain was excruciating beyond belief, her stomach felt like it was twisting in knots. Margaret had been bedridden for weeks before Charles departed. Their relationship had ended in a rocky, difficult situation. They both yelled at each other until their throats were harsh and raw. In an angry fit, Charles had departed with Henry to Greenwich for the birth of the King's son.
It was still deep in the night and as Margaret tried to call for help, hoping a maid would awake and would quickly arrive to save her. But Margaret could not call for help as bile filled her throat and she spat out blood in numerous amounts.
"H-h-h-eel-p" rasped Margaret, reaching towards the door knob. She tried to pry open the entrance but nothing could come ado. She gnawed on the wooden door praying for someone to come and rescue her. Yet, no one came. The servants were asleep and Charles was gone. Most likely laying with another woman who satisfied his lust.
Fury at the thought with Charles with another woman filled her bosom. Her knees began to wobble and her legs could no longer hold her weight. Margaret fell on the hard, wooden floor, writhing in pain and agony.
Flashbacks of her past passed her eyes.
Margaret's mother, Elizabeth cradling her when she had come crying after Arthur's death.
Her sister Mary who currently ruled Scotland as Queen, bidding her farewell to the young eight year old Margaret.
Henry and Arthur sword playing in the courtyard in their country side home.
Her father, Henry the 7th presenting Margaret with a white mare for her eleventh birthday
The night of her and Charles on the voyage back to England…
The luscious oak trees that overpowered her small figure as she ran past the meadows of Greenwich palace.
"Countryside… I want to go back to the country side…" Those were Margaret's last thoughts as her soul passed on to the other world.
Her body was not discovered till the next morning.
The September sun beamed high in the sky, the light rays radiated a warm light in the meadows by felltern. Maria sat outside the old, crumbling stoned house and knitted a warm sweater for little Arthur who was now a year old. His next birthday was in two months and Maria wanted to spoil the little boy rotten. The wet nurse, Betty was no longer needed to breast feed young Arty yet she continued to stay. Betty had taken a great liking to little Arthur and wish to continue serving the household by staying as a maid. Maria was glad for her assistance and the extra helping hands. Money was running low and no one fully supported their house hold. The King had never sent any money to take care of Arthur so Maria was left to struggle by herself. Thankfully, Catherine's old jewels had been a great profit and the money Charles Brandon had given her was a great advantage in the long run.
Little Arthur came trotting from the gardens, with Betty trailing behind. His black curls bounced as the little toddler giggled and ran as far as his chubby legs could carry him.
"Come 'ere" roared Betty, pretending to falter and lose grasp of Arthur.
Little Arthur squealed in joy as he stomped in a muddy puddle, his clean clothes staining in dark brown dirt.
Displeased, Maria muttered "I just washed those clothes".
Arthur looked towards her with such innocence; Maria couldn't help but not feel angry. Carefully, she picked up the young boy, keeping him at a good distance away from her so he would not get her filthy but her efforts proved foolhardy as Arthur reached towards Maria's face and smeared his muddy gasped onto her cheeks.
Maria gasped at Arthur's lurid action and glared at Betty who tried desperately not to break into humorous laughter.
"Very funny…" drawled Maria as Betty sniggered behind her hands.
Taking young Arty inside, she had prepared a small warm bath for little Arthur. Maria washed away every drop of mud on Arthur's small body and fed him peas and carrots mush for dinner.
Night fall fell and Maria had Betty take Arthur back to his nursery for nap time. Maria kissed little Arthur good night and watched as Betty cautiously carried the weary young boy to bed.
Maria sat by the fire hearth, drinking hot cider to sooth her aching head from the stress and weariness of everyday life. Money was running low and there were not enough supplies left to support a young babe at Arthur's age. The cook could no longer be afforded, it was only Betty and Maria left in the household. Maria found comfort at night where everything was still and quiet, not a single noise could be heard except for the crackling sound of the warm red fire.
Closing her eyes in exhaustion, Maria began to pray for god's good graces to aid her on this difficult piece journey in her life. As she prayed, A sharp knock came from the entry way. Maria flinched and hesitantly stood upright.
"Who comes to visit in the middle of night? A beggar?" wondered Maria.
Walking very slowly to the door, Maria gazed out the nearby window and saw a man clad in dark black clothes. She could not see his face but due to his well-dressed attire, Maria could tell the man was far from a mere beggar.
Cautiously, Maria opened the door and asked the man "Who are you, sir? What brings you here?"
The man raised his face and Maria observed his features. The man had greying hair with a small beard that began to recently grow from his chin. His eyes seemed warm and kind that had Maria doubting he came to do harm.
"The name's Thomas More, I have come here in private. Do you by any chance harbor a young boy around his early stages in life?"
Stunned by his question, Maria contemplated whether she should tell the truth or not "Why ask such an absurd question?" she inquired.
The man who called himself Thomas More smiled "By your tone, I'm taking it as a yes."
Maria was thoroughly astounded by his prudence before she could tell him to leave, Thomas More said
"I come here in peace, Ma'am. I'm an old friend of the late Queen, Catherine of Aragon."
Hearing those words, Maria immediately led him inside. "Any friend of Catherine is welcome in this household, Sir Thomas"
"Thank you for your hospitality" he returned, taking off his black cloak and sitting his self by the fire to warm his body after days of travel.
"I'm here to enquire of Catherine's bastard son…" said Thomas.
"I'm afraid Arthur is currently asleep" responded Maria.
Thomas More raised his eyebrows at the boy's name. It was a fine name for a young lad and hearing the boys forename made his desperation to see the child grow to an intensifying amount.
"I hate to be farsighted but it's for the better that I examine … Arthur" Thomas More said.
Maria sulked and with regret answered "That would not be wise, Sir. He's but a mere child and sleep is of much importance at his age"
"I shall not wake the child, I merely had come to see if the child is truly the legitimate son of Catherine and Henry."
Maria considered what the man said and continued to decline his request but after a few arguments, she decided to allow his intent. "I will escort you to the nursery, but please sir, keep silent I do not want a commotion"
Thomas More laughed and countered back "I too have a young daughter of my own; her wailings are the death upon my ears"
Grinning at his jape, Maria led the man through the dusty corridors towards Arthur's tiny nursery. In a silent motion, she opened the creaky door way and directed Thomas More inside.
The man entered and hungrily eyed the crib that lay on the far corner of the room. Oh, how he waited for this day, for months he carefully planned his expedition. His thirst to set eyes upon Catherine's and Henry's child was strong beyond redemption.
Thomas tip toed to the cribs edge and gazed down at the sleeping boy. The baby boy had dark black curls flowing from his skull in a messy bunch due to his constant moving in his sleep. Arthur's features were perfectly similar to those of King Henry's, it was perfectly clear that Arthur was the King's son.
"By mighty god… he's most certainly the King's own son!" muttered Thomas, stunned by the strong resemblance.
"Of course he is! Catherine would never commit adultery" whispered Maria, not wanting to stir Arthur.
She had then led Sir Thomas More out of the nursery where the young child slept and into the dark, cold corridors.
"Have you been sent by the King?" Maria asked curiously.
His grim expression told her she was mistaken. "No, I have come on my own accord. I had once been the King's chancellor but resigned from office recently" he responded.
Maria frowned, speculating why he would have come "Then tell me, Sir, why have you come?"
Thomas More sighed and proclaimed "I wanted to meet the son of the alleged son of Catherine and Henry and I am pleased to find not an bastard but the true born son of the King"
Dismayed by his words, she inquired "What do you plan to do with the information, Sir Thomas? The King has publically declared Arthur as not his son and last I heard, Queen Anne was with child"
Sir Thomas smiled at her words, that surprised Maria even more "King Henry had made a grave mistake announcing his only son a bastard and further more, Queen Anne had given the King a daughter three weeks ago"
Maria wondered if she should feel happy of the newfound news or simply frightened that the man might plan to take Arthur away.
"The Queen could nether the less still produce an male heir." murmured Maria.
"No one can tell of the future, Ma'am. The Queen has many enemies and the dissolution of Monasteries has created an uproar with the public, she is known throughout the Christendom as the King's whore" answered Thomas More.
Maria breathed a sigh of discontent and shook her head "Poor woman..."
"Arthur is the key source to restore Catholicism as the true faith once more and regain the papal supremacy" he declared, his eyes shining with anticipating joy.
Scowling, Maria snapped "You will not use Arthur as your object for your personal gain, he is but a mere babe who does not yet know of the cruelties of the outside world"
Ataken back by her sudden anger, Thomas calmly responded "I shall do no harm to Arthur. I plainly hope that the King would announce Arthur as his heir and return to the old period of time"
"I apologise for my outbust... If you are able to persuade the King to change his mind on Arthur's legitimacy, then I would be very thankful towards you"
"I will try my best to influence the King to visit his son, Arthur." replied Sir Thomas.
"May god bless you..." she prayed, happiness filling her bosom
"I must return to the south, Until I return...Keep Arthur safe" the man called Thomas More beared farewell to Maria and disappeared into the dark night.
As Maria locked the door, she began to think of the danger Arthur might soon be facing and prayed throughout the whole night for his safety.
First of all Rip Margaret. I'm guessing most of you might've guessed after the last chapter.
Anyways, I wanted to fast forward to 8 months because I was running out of plot ideas and wanted Anne to hurry up with her birth. I'm sorry that I did not give her an son like some of you guys have requested (Kittenallie) but I wanted to stick with the original plot line with only Elizabeth born.
So tell me, what do you think Thomas would do? Would he be able to persuade the King to finally meet Arthur or will everything go downhill?
Thank you, for all the lovely reviews!