Oh yeah I forgot to tell you there are four people being spared in this story. We already know one but I'll give you a clue on another one, he's related to one of the major characters of this story. Anyway Warning in this chapter is violence and some character drama.
From Enemies To Friends:
From Enemies To Friends
It seems this friendship reached it's end
-Blood-Spattered Sundress-Schoolyard Heroes
Thomas took leave instead of going to France and stayed home with Agnes Isabella and guess who went in his place. WILLIAM COMPTON. Poor Wolsey he will probably have to deal with Compton and Thomas Tallis shagging. Anyway as I was saying not even a day later news and gossip spread about this bizarre birth like they were the plague. But I care for them. It was Thomas and Katherine's mistake so they had to deal with it!
I was praying to god mostly that Wolsey settled my divorce in France. So I could marry Anne and we could have children and live the rest of my days in happiness. But what was I to do with Katherine after the divorce pulls through? She seemed rather content with Thomas More. Maybe I should permit them to get married. Then again the pope wouldn't permit such a marriage hell I bet he'd be laughing to find out Thomas More committed adultery in the first place. But wait? If he didn't permit their marriage what is to become of Anne and I? Oh the future confused me so!
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"So let me get this straight?" Knivert said who was so intrigued by this conversation that he was actually talking, "So Thomas More, who is all gun ho when it comes to the bible has your wife's bastard child and makes you the godfather of a child that is supposed to be yours?"
The next day Knivert, Brandon, George Boleyn (who I asked to join the group because he was going to be my brother and law) and I sat for dinner. I wished Compton were there, I remembered he was probably having fun with Thomas Tallis and I shudder when I say that. I took a swig of my wine and tried my best to bear the rather odd trauma that was going on around me.
"I knew that Thomas More wasn't a saint!" Brandon said laughing, "But hell who could blame him! Queen Katherine is such a beautiful woman I would make love to her day and night until she fucks me to death."
Knivert snorted. George did not know how to add into a conversation like this. And I sighed once again.
"Focus on my sister Charles not the soon to be Dowager Queen," I said.
Brandon laughed once again.
"Of course my dear friend did I tell you that your sister is with child once again!"
I slammed my fist on the table.
"OF COURSE SOMEONE ELSE IS HAVING A CHILD AND NOT ME!"
Everyone looked at me silently. Why was the lord mocking me with everyone having children? Then all of a sudden I heard that damn quack Bishop Fisher's voice ringing in my ears:
"This Birth should be a wake up call for you to see a physician and see if your well seed is working correctly because last time I checked Katherine's family is all fertile!"
Why was it mocking once again questioning my eh….er…um….essence? Was there really something wrong with my body? Was it really my fault for Katherine's miscarriages and the miscarriages that were to come ahead? How could it be? My father had five healthy children! I was really starting to despise Bishop Fisher more now that he brought the quality of my eh…er…um…essence into question.
I started to become dizzy. The room started to spin. My body was shaking. I felt beads of sweat pour down my forehead.
"Um your majesty?" George Boleyn finally said, "are you alright you don't look so good?"
Then out of nowhere I blacked out.
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It was a continuation of the same dream I had months ago where I found Thomas trapped in the tower. I immediately knelt to the floor and started to untie his feet, which were strapped to the chair by the ankles. He started to sob harder.
"Please…Harry," He whispered with a horse voice and quivering swollen lips his bottom lip was bleeding, the beating he got must have been terrible, "leave me, let me go to god."
I started crying when he said that. I tried to be strong as I then stood up and preceded to untie the ropes, which strapped his upper body to the chair.
"No Thomas," I said, "I can't leave you like this, it's my fault you are here. I should of protected you like I promised you, if this shall kill you, then die amongst your family that loves you not in this cold forsaken place."
And yes for once I took the blame for something for once. Finally he brought his head to his chest.
"Harry…. it's…a…trap"
I looked at him dumbfounded for a moment and then all of a sudden:
BANG!
I felt something rip through my back and lodge through my stomach. I clutched my stomach as the blood oozed out. The next thing I knew I fell to the floor dead. This whole time Thomas was used for my assassination.
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My eyes shot open to see Knivert, Brandon and George Boleyn staring at me in awe. I was lying on the dirty floor so it meant I passed out. I started to sob.
"Thomas More!" I wailed out forgetting he was back in Chelsea, "where is he?"
Knivert and Brandon looked at each other.
"He's in Chelsea sir remember his little mistress just had his child," Brandon said.
I sprung up off the floor.
"Well GET HIM HERE I WANT TO ONLY SEE HIM! I DON'T CARE IF YOU HAVE TO GET THE WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY!"
And then I stormed out of the room.
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I spent two hours in my bedchamber crying. I would see no one, not even my darling Anne Boleyn. I wanted to only see one person. That was Thomas More and Thomas More alone. I sobbed into my pillow face down on my bed. I was confused. What did this dream mean? Was this my future? Was I going to save Thomas More but get killed in the process? Was Thomas really that important to me that I would die for him?
Suddenly the door opened lightly. I didn't even lift my head from my pillow to see who it was.
"Harry?" a soft familiar voice said.
I finally lifted my head from the pillow and slightly turned my head to look behind me. I saw it was Thomas standing with his hands crossed in front of him. I said nothing and brought my head back down on the pillow. I simply then heard the door close behind him. He seen me cry many times before, but not this much. Not since I was 12 when Arthur died. I felt exposed and humiliated that I was a grown man crying like a fucking child.
I then heard footsteps walking towards the bed. It was silent for a moment only with the sounds of my heavy breathing and sobs. Suddenly I felt the bed sink in next to me. It must have been Thomas sitting to the empty spot next to me. All of a sudden I felt his soft hand rubbing my back.
"I'm s-s-sorry that I m-m-made you g-g-go away fr-fr-from your n-n-newborn," I stuttered.
Thomas told me to hush and continued to softly rub my back. My cries died down a little.
"Agnes Isabella is in good hands, Katherine's a good mother remember."
I sobbed harder once he said Katherine. The woman that could have a healthy child with any other man but ME! Thomas told me to hush again. My sobs died down again.
"Sorry," he murmured, "tell me Harry what's troubles you now that I am now over here at a unholy hour."
I looked him. He was trying to give me a reassuring smile. Thomas always had the nicest smile I wish he did it more often. The room seemed to light up when he did. I just quietly whimpered and brought my head down on my pillow.
"I collapsed once again," I finally said, "and when I did I had a nightmare with you in it. You were tied to a chair, whimpering, sobbing and pretty beaten up. I went to free you from your bindings. As I gingerly worked at the knots you told me to leave you there and let you go to god. I said I wasn't leaving you there to at least die alone. Then you told me that it was a trap and then someone shot me and I died in front of you."
Thomas cringed and his smile faded. He continued to rub my back. I brought my head back on the pillow. I could feel him shaking. But he wanted to be strong for me. Everything Thomas feared about his future became worse.
"You believe me now Harry?"
I sat up and cried harder.
"Unfortunately I now do."
My cries then turned into full out wails.
"Oh Harry it's going to be okay!"
He grabbed me and pulled me in. I started to sob into his chest. He rocked me back and forth. He ran a hand through my hair. I heard his heart nervously beating. It seemed to relax me a bit. My sobs started to die down. I started to drift off to sleep. Then my cries were just simple whimpers. And finally just like that I fell asleep in Thomas' arms.
Looking back on that night it made me realize much I appreciate Thomas More. The only man who I can call my father.
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I wanted to emphasize the way Henry looks at Thomas as a father.
