Disclaimer: I do not own everything if I did I would be a millionaire producer and Goddess Supreme ^_^

A/N: Thanks to all my reviewers, everyone who has followed this story.

Happy New Year, hope everyone has been enjoying these first two weeks of '11, here as promised the next chapter of AW. Count the days we are coming close to the ending and if I get enough reviews, call it blackmail whatever you want :P I will update even sooner and include the aftermath of our main characters.

The song I recommend is Trobar de Morte: When the Night falls it works better as to feel the emotions in this chapter.

~VXLP


"Life is as miserable as it is. Why would someone in God's name seek to prolong it?"

Edgar Allan Poe in Abraham Lincoln: Vampire Hunter
by Seth Grahame Smith


1545,

Scyon House:

Mary, Mary oh Mary! How did you ever wind up like THIS? She thought shunning herself from disgrace of being touched by the sun's rays in fears they would burn her. She never felt this disgusted of her father, of her husband, of the land she called home, of herself above all! She covered her eyes from the blazing fire of the sun's rays and turned away from the chiding gazes of Susan and Elsa. There were her only women with her now and the only people she could trust. Jane Dormer by request of her strict father and uncle had been removed from her services. Being strict Catholics they adhered to the old customs and as true believers they preached chastity in a marriage, save only for the spouse, was the most sacred of all life's vows. To end a marriage like this was like setting fire to gardens of Eden. It destroys the soul -scholars preached. Mary, in the bitter end of her last days spent on Scyon did not know what to believe anymore.

Was she a witch, a fiend, a villain, the temptress they all spoke of? Had she driven Eustace and many others to commit sin and perjure themselves on trial? Eustace was not going to be on trial nor was he suspected for those who were aloof to the truth, about the true nature of their relationship. But in respect of his job, his dignity and his obedience to his highest master -God- she had put him on a delicate position. How would they, especially Eustace, explain when they would be judged on accounts of their fidelity to -while they had been bound to Earth- masters? What face would they show themselves with when final judgment came?

Mary looked down as if hearing God's voice now in shame. There was here the product of her sin and her punishment. Her children as her, were to be born in a world of madness and sin. They would become castaways as she was now one. Would Philip and her father immure them in a residence like the one she was now? Never to see their relatives? Never to be loved and bear the joys of being lifted by the loving arms of their aunts and uncles who would be there to kiss them good night before they went asleep? Would no one open their hearts for two little orphans?

No, Mary guessed not. How could they? They were the products of sin. No one would want to be associated with them. Hell, she doubted that if she was one of those noble ladies assigned to guard, at least one of these two little devils, she would accept.

She massaged her swollen belly and in doing the insolence from her two little ones ceased. They stopped kicking, their mother's brief contact and hearing the sound of her voice singing to them, calmed them down and also reassured them that no matter what -she would always be there for them. "No matter what" she repeated.

~o~

Susan watched but did not say anything. She kept her mouth shout these days since Jane's leave. Her parents, she told her elder companion before leaving, did not approve of a woman disobedient of her husband. And with the scandal that Mary's stained marriage was leaving, they were afraid of the Protestant faith growing stronger among former members of the true faith because of it. Susan did not blame Jane for wanting to leave, but could have her parents at least have some common sense and look at the facts in front of them? Did they not see that it was all another of Cromwell's schemes to bring the Lady Mary down and that he was succeeding by taking advantage of the naivety of indolent fools like Jane's parents?


1545,

Tower of London:

After Scyon had come the tower. It came in short notice and Mary didn't know what to make of this new arrangement. She guessed she and the others couldn't really complain now as they 'settled' in their new accommodations. Scyon had not been that bad after all looking at the stone and humid walls that were to be her new 'home' until, explained to her, she gives birth. Scyon had at least had windows in every corner of the room except for the kitchens, this last detail she never knew why but it mattered very little to her now. Her pension had not been diminished nor her furniture or clothing exchanged for more humble ones. In fact she had enjoyed little parties and organized a small feasting (while being watched by her father's private guard) to remind Susan and Elsa that this was not the end of their journey, merely just a setback.

Now there would be no reason for celebration. This was in fact a prison and her last judgment.

Her relationship with the Church was no longer good. They did not want to do anything with her by now. But through it all she never stopped hoping, praying, and holding dear the faith that had so comforted her mother, now comforted her.

Susan wondered if there was some truth in it. If the daughter of two fervent, or at least one of them, Catholics could still be the servant of the Church that had left her to venture alone in her quest for redemption? She didn't need to know anything of letters, philosophy, or the law to know that there never lived a more innocent but brave plain, and simple woman like was her mistress. That they believed her capable of seducing so many men and carousing like a mare with all of them was, it had to be, a sin.

Mary imagined the glory expressed in the Archbishop of Canterbury's eyes when the axe would be swung against her neck in the same fashion she now imagined, when she had been put to sleep by the babies' incessant kicking and the aches that came from it.

"Love will come to pass where wolves prey" she sang to her unborn. The children moved at the rhythm of their mother's voice. After she finished she bid them a farewell sensing, being after all a plain thinking woman, that this would be the last time she would ever sing to them. There would be no more music sweeter than the sound of her voice to comfort the two little -unknown to Mary- girls in the years to come. Her voice had been the antidote in the darkness and the obstacles that had plagued her mother throughout all her life in England. They would never find anymore comfort after they would be released from the warmness of their mother's womb.

Mary knelt to the floor and wept, damning herself for being a coward, for succumbing so easily to her feelings. God be damned, she did the impossible and damned everything from her parents to her celestial parents, God and the Virgin Mary. Susan came to kneel next to her but not Elsa, she instead stood silently next to them looking up at the large window behind them. It would be folly to place a hand on the Duchess' back and whisper words that they all know lead to nowhere -lies. If there was something Elsa hated more in this life was to be lied in the guise of sweetness with the excuse to bring comfort. Their mistress did not need comfort nor pity. The latter Elsa considered it the worse. But with Mary it was different, she had never stumbled upon such a woman who could be strong and valiant yet weak and extremely frail like a china doll on the outside when she was forced to beg. What had began as a simple relationship as Mistress and servant had evolved into one of friendship.

Mary never said it but she had come to love the oldest of her servants because she reminded her so much of tales her mother had told her countless times in their short time spent together during her childhood of her own mother, Isabel la Catolica [1], better known as the greatest Queen that Spain had ever had. Mary had found Elsa to be the epitome of friendliness. She never stopped smiling and she always had something to say. Susan had at first complained that she talked too much, but for someone like Mary who hardly had anybody to talk with during her tender years growing up in the Welsh Marches at Ludlow Castle and now being further immured, too much talk seemed no longer annoying.

Elsa finally broke from hearing more of her mistress' cries her stoic self, and knelt down to join Susan in bringing comfort to Mary. Night finally fell and the only light in the large room was the moon's. They had been provided with candles, a large bed was at the end, there was even a small stove, a place where to light the fire and cook and of course the only thing that Mary had requested and she was relieved her wish was granted, a table where the former Princess could sit on while she read her Latin bible, the dozen books that had been brought to her from her household on lives of the saints, Greek and Roman classics, and where she could also write. On the latter she had to be very selective since she had been given very little paper and ink. But when it came to light at the dead of night Mary would prefer to have the moon whenever it was visible to light the room. If the sky was clouded and there was no moon to shine its way through their only passage to the outside world then she would light only one candle, for darkness was the least of her worries.

"Are you not afraid?" Susan asked one day when she found Mary woken up early by one of her daily cramps. The former Princess looked at her best friend and companion shaking her head. "Was it another nightmare?" Susan asked referring to the reason why her friend had woken up so early.

Mary shook her head once more. "No, at first I" she went on to explain her eyes distant. "thought that light was my friend, that it would block the bad dreams at night, but when you live this long after so many tragedies you learn to appreciate darkness and the small moments that God dispenses his happiness to you no matter how short-lived they might be."

Susan shrugged. "I would rather stay awake all night with light than having to go to bed without it"

"Why? Is it because of nightmares Susan?" Mary inquired cocking her head slightly to the left, shifting her gaze at Elsa, who was still asleep and drew her attention back to Susan. "I do not expect to be hit with nightmares again and if I am I have nothing to fear of them"

Susan opened her mouth, Mary held her hand up stopping her from asking the evident.

"When you sleep you are just confined to illusion. Your mind brings the worst and best out of you when you are in Morpheus's land. But no matter how worse my nightmares become I prefer them by now because when I wake up I find myself face to face with a worse nightmare: life"

"Then why do you still hope?" Susan challenged "Why insist on sending letters to your father? Why insist on his seal for forgiveness? Why insist on your innocence?"

She didn't answer Susan. There were no words that could suffice Susan's answer, so Mary chose instead to respond by casting her gaze down at her stomach, the source of all her troubles.


"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain."
~Bene Gesserit Litany in Dune by Frank Herbert


(Eustace Chapuys POV)

London,

Imperial Embassy:

Like Mary, I gave in constantly in my work. What if there could be some way that I could snatch the last product of our union, the fruit of her hardship? I had something that my mind had been brewing for the past three weeks, but I wasn't sure if I was ready yet.

At the trial, I remember where she had faced her accusers and many familiar faces (mine among them) she had looked every inch the proud Princess I remembered her. It was as if the prison walls and the slandering she received from judges and clergy men had done nothing to bring her down and I found myself proud at the moment she spoke to John Dudley, better known as Lord Warwick and the thorn to the Seymours' side, for this particular courtier had been gaining a lot of attention and favor from their Majesties. His sons who were almost the same age as the Lady Elizabeth and the Prince respectively had been placed separately with the Prince's household and the Duke of Richmond. Unlike Seymour, Dudley was proving to be a better player and a better bystander.

Van der Defelt had been there with me. He was not the cleverest man I had ever known, but he was one of the more cunning and he knew when to speak and when to take advantage for himself and for our master Charles. He was undeniably dull when he spoke, hardly laughed like I did and hardly had a taste for jesting or making small private parties like I myself had done countless times to pass the time when there was nothing to do in this god-forsaking country, in his lodgings.

I told him that if he wanted to survive in this land he had to learn to laugh at everything, and accompany that laugh with strangeness, for the Kings in these land I emphasized love men of gay speech and gay manners. "The King loves to be amused and if reports of his little Prince carry any true to it, he will be another child who yearns to be pampered with jokes and good news. Any bad news the English have a great distaste for, you will do best by disguise it as simple inconveniences. Never think of them as lies, think of them as re-phrased truths" I advised him, and he looked at me oddly replying nothing.

I often asked myself if he knew the creature or creatures Mary holds inside whose fate is now in my hands, is really mine. He has given previous hints he does. Last week while I had been writing a letter, my dying wish if I was caught in the act while saving my unborn son's life; Van der Defelt had barged in not bothering to knock or asked for my availability. He had briefly looked on the letters written on my desk before his grave eyes shifted back to mine.

"What?" I had inquired clearly angry that he had come. It was not so much anger because he had barged in without bothering to knock first or ask of my health or if I was available. I had taught him of the politics by impressing upon him the importance of dissimulation, to survive in a court where wolves and rats mingled. I urged on the need to think first before striking a chord in an enemy's heart, if be that enemy had any, the least he could do was show some manners! But that was not sent my heart palpitating wildly, it was his eyes scanning the contents of the letter too quickly, but it was only for two seconds that he did. Surely he could not have seen anything, and I hoped not the more important content that revealed my and Mary's true relationship.

"The verdict just came in while you were writing and gout I am sure kept you today from showing up. In all there was nothing new except the final judgment, it was as you and I had expected. Guilty" My darling Mary were the only words that I heard being uttered inside my voice. I did something afterward, hardly recalling of the words that me and Van der Defelt exchanged that day after he told me of the verdict, that I had not done in years: I bargained with God. I would gladly trade my happiness, my own accomplishment for the life of my unborn child that Mary still carries.

"Please Lord watch over it, I beg" no, he rephrased "I demand, let him or her live. Do not punish him or her for the grave sin of adultery, if you need to punish anyone, punish me Lord. Make me your puppet, send me to hell even while I live I don't care, but don't punish that little one for in all Your mercy, You must know he or she is innocent." But if I was spared as my unborn, then we would be the two more fortunate souls and I would forever be blessed and in His debt.

I finished praying and I looked back after I summoned Fleming telling him it was time. There was no more parchment waiting to be filled by pen dipped in black ink. My duty to my master in England was done, I had done for him as far my mind and more than my body could take. I was not going to be chained anymore by his commands and I was glad that I would not have to listen nor having to watch my back for the King of England or his courtiers' heels.

It was perhaps too soon, my moves too hasty but I knew what I was doing and I had planned everything carefully and I had prided myself in doing so for I knew that nothing I did, was done incomplete or was merely half a step ahead. Out of all the insults thrown at me by my enemies and countless heretics that I was a man who lingered to close to the devil and had always walked three steps ahead of men fearful of God, this one was the one I was most amused and the one that carried more truth.

I never left things half done, everything I did was carefully done, coldly planed.


Isabella's cries were hard enough to wake up the dead or half starved souls locked in the lowers levels of the Tower of London as Master Kingston and former Captain of the guard carried the wailing newborn to her new guard. The warden had been approached by a sturdy and dark haired man of average height who spoke with a foreign accent, that Kingston could only guess by it he was a Spaniard and therefore either his former Excellency's or his substitute's. Either way, he had brought him with a wealthy sum of money and promised him more to come if he did his master's one big favor.

"What big favor?" He had asked. It had turned out to be a disappointment. He had expected his Excellency to ask for a minute alone with the disgraced Duchess or for a more outrageous favor. But when he accepted due to his gambling debts and that of his family's, he was reminded that the cold, callous, and cynical ambassador never did anything so foolish unless he had a good plan.

After he had given Mary's newborn to Eustace he saw how the Ambassador looked more ragged and his voice had become more rough, shortly after his eyes had widened in surprise when Kingston had told him that she had borne a set of healthy twin girls. He had composed himself quickly but for the first time, the old warden had seen a tray of emotion pass through his eyes. It was however something meaningless and that the warden would forget very soon, many things he had come to forget now save this: two young women, braver than any man or woman he had ever met. They had been rivals all their lives, but in death they had found comfort in the religions that had brought them and their respective peers much comfort.

The warden before returning to the main gates where he would wait for the Earl of Hertford to arrive, no doubt to come for the other child. He muttered a small prayer for the Duchess' soul and wished the best for the two girls she gave birth to.


A/N: There it is, now you know what to do if we want this story to be updated.

[1] Isabel the Catholic in Spanish

This chapter as we see from the middle starts from where this story begins after Mary gives birth to Isabella and Elizabeth. Though Isabella is more of an Italian and French form I decided that Mary for the story purposes and because we are all used to it by now in fanfiction, names one of her twins Isabella while the other in the Anglo form of Elizabeth.

REVIEW! I love all your reviews, and whatever feedback you give me, but above all I have to admit long reviews are my favorites.

~VainXLifePoetess