"For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you.

Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning.

Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tenderest branches that quiver in the sun,

so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth"

(Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet)


The journey to the coast was unpleasant. Mary brooded as she looked out at the rain that was hammering down the side of the carriage. It was not safe to travel in this weather, but they had no choice, her father would not be far behind them.

The thought of him caused her stomach to twist painfully as she considered her actions. She had not been directly involved in the plot to kill the harlot. But she had heard Chapuys, had seen the letters, she had known a plan on her life and her bastard was imminent. She had known, and done nothing, in fact she had silently supported him. And now Brereton had named her. Her father's anger was legendary, and it would follow her.

Now she was fleeing in dangerous conditions with what seemed her only friend in the world helping her. Chapuys had always been on her side, he was loyal and devoted to her, if he said she was in danger, then she believed him. But she struggled to think of her own father actively trying to harm her. He had once called her his pearl, his only heir and treasure. And now he was trying to capture her to interrogate her.

She supposed she did feel some guilt for her actions. Although she did not care for the harlot, the child she carried was of her blood, it was royal blood, and she had tried to extinguish it. But it was also of the witch's blood and that made the child dangerous. Who knew how far the harlot would twist the child's mind. But any violence against a new-born disgusted her, but again she had done nothing and kept silent. She felt guilty, but her actions she decided, were justified.

The carriage lurched suddenly and she gasped flinging a hand out to brace herself.

'I'm sorry Princess,' Chapuys said, grimacing at the awful conditions they were driving in.

'It can't be helped,' Mary replied.

'We will soon reach Dover,' Chapuys tried to reassure her, 'and I have sent word ahead for my man to sort our crossing into France.'

'This man can be trusted?' Mary asked, worried that word would get back to her father.

'He is loyal,' Chapuys assured her.

'What if someone recognises me, and tries to stop me?' Mary asked.

'People only see what they expect to see, they will not see a Princess when we arrive in Dover, and your appearance is not genuinely known to the lower classes.' Chapuys answered.

'Very well,' Mary agreed.

'Be of peace of mind, Princess, we will re-group in Spain, and I am sure you will be back in England very soon.' Chapuys said.

Mary smiled and nodded in reply, but inside her stomach turned again. She was sure she would indeed come back to England one day, but she did not know under what circumstances. She hoped it would be to cheer and applause, as she came back to rescue England from heresy, and her father from the clutches of that harlot. She would restore her parents' marriage, and in time she would be a beloved Queen.

But, She feared that it would only be through war that she would return, that blood would need to be shed in order to bring god's will to her home country. That her father couldn't be rescued from that woman, and that the child, her own flesh and blood would be her enemy.

She shuddered to think of it, and forced herself to think of other things.


Anne was in her chambers waiting to hear news from Henry, his best riders were currently racing through England trying to track down the missing traitors. She knew though, in her heart that they were too late. Undoubtedly Mary and Chapuys were on their way to Spain, with news of her new-born child, ready to tell the Emperor. A child who was not catholic, a child who would one day sit on the throne of England and unite it's people and lead England to a golden age.

She knew Charles feared an openly protestant England. He was the holy roman emperor, favoured by the Pope and deeply devout. He knew that a free England, free of Rome's control was dangerous. For England could make her own rules, control their finances better, and make their own decisions, without Rome's constant influence. She knew he would do everything in his power to stop England heading on that road, and the simplest way to stop it was to promote Mary as Henry's rightful heir.

She knew that there still was some people who were sympathetic to Mary and Katherine, although she hoped that those numbers would soon dwindle, after the assassination attempt on her and her unborn child. However, she needed to secure Thomas's succession, and the best way to do that would be to give him a brother, someone to succeed him. She knew it was too early to consider having another child, with Thomas barely a few weeks old. But she feared what would happen if Spain turned to War, if Charles decided that the only way to secure the English throne was to forcefully put Mary on the throne. A girl who had his own blood, Spanish blood running through her veins, who was deeply devout and loyal to him and to the pope.

Anne knew the best way to prevent this would be to put as many of her own children between Mary and the throne as possible.

That wasn't what Anne wanted though. Both she and Henry wanted a family, not just bodies to fill a royal nursey. But a family, that was filled with love and happiness. A family that looked out for each other and wasn't constantly trying to better the others. Being Queen shouldn't prevent her having that. And nor should Henry be denied the right to lovingly raise Thomas, to teach him to ride, and how to shoot his first arrow, and the beginnings of politics, all because he was too focused on keeping Mary from the throne.

Anne sighed and rubbed her head, and walked towards her vanity set, to gaze at her reflection in the mirror. The marks on her neck had faded now, but she still feared being left alone for any length of time. Even now her sister Mary sat in the corner working on clothes for Thomas. She had guards outside her room, that were changed regularly, and George or Anthony stopped by when Henry couldn't, to check in on her. Not for their sakes, but to reassure her that she was not alone.

At night Henry was with her and there was nowhere she felt safer than in Henry's arms.

'My love?'

Anne started at the noise, and turned to see Henry in the doorway to her chamber with a hesitant and tired smile on his face. Thomas was in his arms, sleeping quietly and Henry rocked him gently.

Anne smiled at the picture they made, Henry was a devoted father and doted on Thomas, and often spent much of his time with him in his arms. He constantly questioned the nurses on his health and behaviour and when out of his or Anne's arms, his eyes would follow him around the room.

Anne didn't comment on his cautiousness, Henry had experienced more than his fair share of child deaths and heartbreak. And given Thomas's dangerous entry into the world it was no wonder that he was overprotective.

Anne walked over and kissed her son's forehead and murmured his name, smiling as he gurgled softly in his sleep.

'He's so perfect,' Henry whispered to her.

'How could he not be, when he was created out of our love?' Anne replied.

'I love you so much Anne,' Henry replied and bent slightly over Thomas to kiss her cheek.

'And I you,' Anne said, 'Is there any news on Mary?'

'No, Cromwell's spies and men at the docks says she is probably on her way to Spain by now,' Henry replied frowning slightly.

Anne sighed and turned away to sit on the bed and ran a hand through her hair.

'You mustn't worry my love, the further away she is the better,' Henry replied, 'If she comes back, she will be arrested for treason.'

'And what if she comes back with an army?' Anne whispered, her worst fears.

'She wouldn't dare,' Henry snapped.

'She might not, but her cousin would,' Anne said.

'If he does, we will deal with it at the time,' Henry walked over to Thomas's crib and set him down. And then sat next to Anne on the bed and put and arm around her shoulders.

'How? We can't defeat Spain Henry,' Anne replied.

It was on the tip of his tongue to tell Anne that she had no business worrying over such matters as a woman, but he refrained. He reminded himself that Anne was not just any woman, she was intelligent, more so than any other woman he had met, and if he was being honest most men. She was his equal. Of course she had an understanding of strategy and war, and with as much as she had travelled she probably knew that Spain's armies were much vaster than any England could boast.

'On land, no we can't,' Henry replied, and felt his heart skip a beat at the fear in her eyes.

'But, there is a sea between us and the rest of Europe my love, we have the best sailors in the world, and the best ships, they would need allies to get through my navy. And who will ally with them? The emperor makes enemies everywhere. Francis hates him, Italy hate him for his sacking of Rome, and most other countries embrace the new religion, which Spain would never ally with. I am confident, that no army will be coming to England any time soon.'

Anne smiled and felt some of her anxiety lessen, so Mary had fled to Spain, but what Henry said was true. England was unique in that it was cut off from the rest of Europe. Mary would not be able to usurp her son, or start an uprising any time soon.

'I just want him to be safe and happy,' Anne said, 'I never knew what it was to worry until I had a child.'

'He will be Anne, he is the most beloved Prince of England, the people will not stand for Mary taking his place, and neither will I.'

Anne looked into Henry's eyes and saw the devotion that was there, the look of almost obsessive love that he sent her. She vibrated with it, could sense it. She leaned forward and touched her lips to his framing his face with her hands and tugging him towards her so she could kiss him passionately.

She wanted this man, had waited for so long for him, and resisted and refrained for so many years, never fully committing herself to him, despite making Thomas. In the end she was just a girl who was a moth to his flame, her ultimate addiction. He made her angry, he made her rage, he made her cry and laugh, and sigh with exasperation… he made her feel so much.

He made her feel alive.

Henry moaned slightly into the kiss, and returned it fully, loving the way her tongue stroked into his mouth. A virgin Anne may have been when he took her in the woods, but he was certain she was no stranger to kissing. Part of him wanted to find the man who had taught her and murder him, but yet he couldn't deny that she was exceptionally talented at it.

He had always thought kissing was just something in order to get things moving and then to quickly move onto the more exciting sexual acts, but with Anne, the way she grasped at him, and sucked on his lips, and explored his mouth, made his body throb, made his heart skip a beat and his skin tingle.

Thomas's cry broke the moment and Anne pulled away from Henry with a small giggle.

'On second thoughts, perhaps he is not so perfect,' Henry laughed.

Anne smiled then sobered as passion still lingered in her blood. She didn't want to wait anymore.

'Come to my bed tonight,' Anne whispered to him.

Henry paused and looked at her.

'I always come to your bed at night.'

'No, come properly, no barriers, no restraint, just me and you, as it should have been so many years ago.'

Henry felt a thrill shoot through him, other than that glorious encounter in the woods he and Anne had not consummated their marriage properly. He had yet to fully engage in the act and fully insert his seed into her. He had longed to do so, to have a full sex life with his wife. He was sure he was the only man on earth who didn't enjoy sex with his wife. But their circumstances had hardly been normal.

'Are you sure my love?' He asked. Wanting to make sure she was healthy and fully committed, he would not have this be something Anne would come to regret.

'I'm sure,' Anne replied.


Let me know how explicit you want Anne and Henry's final consummation to be.

I was going to make a full chapter of it, but If that's not everyone's cup of tea, then just let me know.

Wizard x