A/N: Alright, everyone, as promised here is the extra chapter. Merry Christmas, and I do hope you all enjoy it.
Disclaimer: I do not own the Tudors or any of the characters, Showtime does.
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July 30th, 1543
"Harry, are you alright?"
Harry sighed. He knew that his twin meant well, but ever since he had recovered from the attempt on his life, Geoffrey constantly worried for him. Lizbeth did too, but not to the same extent. Geoffrey had even refused to eat, or let Harry eat, until their uncle William promised to personally ensure that the food wasn't in the position to ever be poisoned.
"I'm well, Geoffrey," Harry answered, a bit more despondently than he had intended. "But...while I was unconscious...I...I saw..."
Geoffrey looked curious.
"What was it?" he asked, his eyes wide.
"I saw...Mama..." Harry smiled slightly at the memory. "She looked like the portrait in our lockets...She was so beautiful. But she was sad."
Geoffrey said nothing, instead waiting for his brother to finish.
"She was petting my hair and telling me she loved me, all of us, so much."
"That sounds wonderful," Geoffrey replied, "But why do you seem so sad, Harry?"
"Seeing Mama made me realize just why Papa misses her so much," Harry answered. "I miss her too. I almost wanted to stay there with her."
Geoffrey's thoughtful expression turned troubled.
"Mama wouldn't want you to die, Harry," the young Duke of York stated earnestly. "Mama loved us, she would have wanted us to live. She wanted us to live."
Harry nodded. He had heard so many times from their father, and their grandfather before he had passed, that their mother had willingly endured what she must to ensure that her sons were able to survive the difficult birthing process. Perhaps that was why she had looked so sad when she had seen Harry; she wouldn't want her child to die so young. Certainly not when she had died to make sure they lived.
"You're right, Geoffrey," the elder prince said softly. "I want to see Mama again, but she'll be waiting for us in Heaven. When it's time for us, we'll see her again."
At this, his brother looked relieved as he nodded.
"I want to be a good king," Harry continued, his blue eyes regaining some of their lost luster as his expression became one of determination. "I want to be the kind of king that would make Mama happy."
"You will," Geoffrey said with a smile. "I know you will."
December 25th, 1543
"I love Christmas!" Margery declared, her eyes twinkling merrily.
Catherine Brandon couldn't help but smile as she regarded her young charge.
"Yes, Your Highness," she said. "Christmas is indeed a wonderful time of year."
"Mother says that she found out she was carrying me at Christmastide," Margery said as her governess smoothed out the creases in her new holiday finery; pale gold damask and a matching hood, trimmed with pearls.
After carefully combing the princess's blonde curls, Catherine carefully adjusted the hood atop Margery's head.
"I hope Elizabeth and Mary like the gifts I made for them," Margery said as she peered at herself in the mirror.
Catherine's smile flickered slightly at the mention of Elizabeth's name, but Margery showed no signs of noticing. Or if she did, she chose not to call attention to it.
"I'm sure they'll love them," the Duchess of Suffolk said after a few minutes.
"I hope so," Margery sighed. "But I'm not nearly as good as stitch-work as Mother is."
…
"You look lovely, sister," Elizabeth said with a smile as Mary smoothed out the skirt of her gown.
Though Mary had been fond of wearing deep reds in past Christmas revels, but this year she had chosen a gown of emerald velvet with white trimming and a white satin petticoat. A wreath of holly held back her soft auburn hair and a necklace of emeralds and a diamond in the center hung about her neck.
"As do you, sister," Mary replied warmly.
This year, Elizabeth had opted to wear a velvet gown as well, but hers was a deep burgundy with a petticoat of pale green silk. Her red-gold hair was also adorned with a holly wreath, and her neck with a gold and ruby necklace.
"I am quite sure Duke Phillip will take notice," Elizabeth commented wryly, fighting back a giggle as her sister's face flushed slightly.
The Bavarian duke had returned to court shortly before the beginning of the Yuletide festivities. He had stated that his cousin, Duke Wilhelm, had sent his regards to his new ally, King Henry, but Elizabeth knew that Phillip had also come to once again pay court to her elder half-sister.
Though Elizabeth was possessed of a deeper sense of practicality than her younger half-sister Margery, a part of her couldn't help but note the longing glances between Mary and Phillip whenever they interacted with one another.
As she grew older, Elizabeth had learned a bit more of the situation between her own mother, her father, and Mary's father, she found herself better able to empathize with Mary. She also knew she, Harry, and Geoffrey were all lucky that the twins had survived the near miscarriage. Had Harry and Geoffrey been stillborns, or girls, Henry would have more than likely found a way to invalidate his marriage to Anne, branding their children bastards, and barring them from the succession while he married Jane and fathered children by her.
Elizabeth loved and respected her father, but at times she secretly resented his treatment of her mother, particularly when she heard an especially alarming story of her mother finding Jane perched upon the king's knee while she carried Harry and, unbeknownst to anyone at the time, Geoffrey.
Though she had not understood the while story as a little girl, Elizabeth found that she resented her stepmother. After all, surely the woman must have known that Anne wouldn't have taken kindly to finding her husband, the father of her children, dallying with another woman…
Then it occurred to her…
Was this the pain that Mary's mother Katherine had felt when Henry made it clear that he loved another?
Perhaps their marriage had never truly been valid, but Elizabeth could understand why Mary and Katherine had remained determined that they were the true queen and princess of England.
…
"Your Majesty."
"Duke Phillip," Henry greeted with a smile. "I trust your lodgings were to your liking?"
"Indeed they are," Phillip nodded. "Your Majesty is a truly gracious host. But I must confess I come to you this evening not as a diplomat, but as a suitor."
Henry's eyebrows arched upward slightly.
"Suitor? And who is the fortunate lady of whom you speak?" he asked.
Phillip took a deep breath.
"Your daughter…the Lady Mary," he answered slowly, regarding the king with a cautious glance.
"The Lady Mary?" Henry's smile faded.
Phillip nodded.
"Yes, Your Majesty. From the time I first laid eyes on her, I confess I marveled at the lady's grace and purity."
"And her beauty?" Henry questioned, his eyes flickering dangerously as his fatherly instinct began to rear its head.
Phillip steeled himself as he spoke.
"Even before I set foot in your kingdom, sire, I had long heard tales of the lady's kindness and virtue, her inner beauty as well as her outer beauty. But in my time here, I found that the tales hardly did her justice. While she may be your base-born daughter, she is still a credit to Your Majesty in every way. I would consider myself the most fortunate man in Christendom to call such a maiden my wife. With Your Majesty's blessing of course."
Henry was stunned. He had tried many times over the past few years to find a suitable husband for his eldest daughter. She might be a bastard, but she was still a king's daughter and so she deserved a match that honored her royal blood. But it seemed that no other monarchs in Europe would consent to marry their sons off to a bastard, even a royal bastard. Even a generous dowry wouldn't be enough to make up for her illegitimate status.
And of course, there was the matter of if the girl would ever try to challenge her brother Harry's claim to the throne of England. The last thing Henry wanted was to marry her to a man who would support her so-called claim and raise an army to depose her brother.
But it occurred to the king that this presented a perfect opportunity to solve the entire dilemma; if Mary were to marry Phillip, then she would be given the title of Duchess, as well as whatever title Henry chose to bestow upon her and by extension, her husband. Not only that, but Phillip would be unlikely to try to support Mary if she were to ever attempt to usurp her brother as doing so would prove to be detrimental to not only the alliance between England and Germany, but no doubt Phillip's relationship with his cousin Duke Wilhelm, who certainly would not take kindly to such actions.
"Very well, Your Grace," Henry said with a smile. "You have my permission to ask my daughter for her hand. For it will be her, not I, to whom you shall be bound."
Phillip beamed at the king.
"Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Happy Christmas, Your Grace."
"Happy Christmas, Your Majesty."
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Well, I hope everyone enjoyed that, and remember reviews make lovely Christmas gifts.
Once again, wishing you all a Merry Christmas, and the next chapter shall be out on Monday, December 30th. Until then, everyone.