Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Hello everyone! Sorry I have been gone for so long. Work has been so hectic! I hope everyone had a happy holiday, and that every is safe and healthy! Thank you to those who kept catching up on me! Hello to my new favs/followers: AppleScentedTrees, superfaraway, Phantom- of- light, Annette1984, LadyTangent1980, Edwardlvr2317, Goddess Freya of Day, AnnalisaSimona, kissinghimandonlyhim, blue-eyed historical girl, Unique16, illowKP, blacknonmonster, svls1234, .18, P. , pecamp, 10868letsgo, Rhiannon Sorceress, Stark-ingMad, 21jumpstreetJD28, gjoyce95, littledoodle, ashes9492, vellichorae, Furionknight, beastielou98, and SilverMoon100. As for reviews, I am trying to answer them all. However, some reviewers have private message disabled so I cannot respond! There is a historical inaccuracy in season 3 episode 2 of the Tudors which this chapter is based on and uses some of the script. I believe it was the Duke of Norfolk and Earl of Shrewsbury who led the king's forces in opposition to the Pilgrimage of Grace, not the Duke of Suffolk. However, I wanted to stick with the episode storyline as it fit my story better.

Ch. 7

"Mephistopheles: Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it.
Think'st thou that I, who saw the face of God
And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,
Am not tormented with ten thousand hells
In being deprived of everlasting bliss?"
~ Christopher Marlowe, Dr. Faustus

Alas, so all things now do hold their peace!

Heaven and earth disturbèd in no thing;

The beasts, the air, the birds their song do cease,

The nightès car the stars about doth bring;

Calm is the sea; the waves work less and less:

So am not I, whom love, alas! doth wring,

Bringing before my face the great increase

Of my desires, whereat I weep and sing,

In joy and woe, as in a doubtful case.

For my sweet thoughts sometime do pleasure bring:

But by and by, the cause of my disease

Gives me a pang that inwardly doth sting,

When that I think what grief it is again

To live and lack the thing should rid my pain.

~ Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey

Hunsdon House 10 October 1536

Lincoln was taken by the rebels and they now marched on York much to the dismay of Cromwell and the king. Their numbers had increased to 50,000, the group amassing at Hambleton Hill before continuing onto Lincoln and then York. The Duke of Suffolk was sent to Stamford in the wake of the rebellion, the king trusting his closest friend to carry out his orders along with the Duke of Norfolk.

Mary was aware of the threat against her father, though the rebels were fervent supporters of her late mother and herself, so she had little to worry about from them. However, the king had written to her in confidence, urging her to write to her cousin the Emperor. With the Emperor being Catholic monarch, Henry worried the empire of Spain would see this as an opportunity to align themselves with the rebels and perhaps interfere with the English because of Mary.

Mary had been surprised at her father's letter, her eyes rereading the lines asking that she relay her loyalties to the Emperor. Mary would be loyal to her father above all else, though she now feared he would force her to take the oath, declaring her parents' marriage void and the king's supremacy over the church. She hesitantly dipped her quill in ink, her hand wavering over the parchment before she began to write what she would never have thought she could say. It would save her, strengthen her position with her father, but now she was going against her morals, what her mother had taught her, and it was eating her alive.

My dearest cousin,

I write to tell you that all is well in England. My father the king had taken extra precautions in the wake of the rebellion to protect me from such danger and I am grateful to his majesty for considering my wellbeing above his own. I ask that you enter into an alliance with his majesty, not for my sake, but so that the greatest kingdoms in Christendom may once more embrace each other in friendship.

I have accepted my father's will, though he has made no move against me to take the oath. Although it pains me to do so, I must accept my father as Supreme Head of the Church of England. His majesty, as appointed by God, has seen fit to create his own church for Christ and I must follow him as a dutiful daughter. I also state that his majesty's marriage to my late mother, the Dowager Princess of Wales, has been annulled and was never true. I hope my dear cousin that you understand my acceptance of these declarations.

Lady Mary Tudor

Mary grimaced at her signature, at the pitiful letter she had just signed. She was not relenting, not giving up hope that one day her father would restore her to the succession. She was protecting herself, knowing that Cromwell would no longer insist to the king that she sign the oath. The letter would be read, her correspondence no longer private until her father fully trusted her again. He was extremely paranoid, especially with the rebels approaching York. Mary had not been defeated, she had just decided to save her strength for another day, a day for when Cromwell would fall.

Dover 11 October 1536

Richard stood on the shores of Dover, casting his new wife a weary look as they examined the ship swaying in the water before them. He may have been paranoid, but no one could deny he was overprotective towards his family, especially in the wake of the ongoing rebellion. He had arranged for Anne and the children to travel to Calais until the danger disappeared, but also allowing Anne to reunite with her brother.

Richard turned to his eldest son, Thomas, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing encouragingly. "You look after your stepmother and your siblings."

"I will father," Thomas replied stoically, taking the responsibility his father had bestowed upon him a little too seriously. Richard chuckled at his son's eagerness, shaking his head as Thomas joined his brother John to play with Henry and Elizabeth. He turned his attention to Anne, his eyes drifting to her slightly protruding stomach. A smile appeared at the corner of his mouth as Anne absentmindedly rubbed her hand over the bump as she watched the children, Elizabeth blending in with the boys perfectly as if she truly was their sister. She was also thankful for the fact that her mother was there. Elizabeth Boleyn would be accompanying them to Calais, much to the dismay of her husband.

Richard circled his arms around his wife, Anne leaning backwards into his embrace and warmth. "Thank you," she murmured softly, Richard pressing a small kiss to her temple at the words.

"George will be happy to see you," Richard spoke. "And I will be happy you are safe."

"How long will we stay in Calais?" Anne asked. They had discussed the reason for her departure, but not how long she would be gone.

"You think I'm getting rid of you?" Richard replied, chuckling as Anne lightly swiped at his chest.

"No," Anne responded, laughing at his sarcasm. "How long do you think this will last?" Her tone now turned serious as she wondered if an all-out war would break out between the king and his subjects.

Richard shrugged his shoulders slightly, not entirely knowing the answer. "Hopefully soon, so you all can be home."

"Does the king know?" Anne added, noticing Richard's arms tightening around her tensely. He hadn't discussed such a matter with the king, making this decision entirely on his own. He was Anne's husband now and though he may have only been Elizabeth's stepfather, he was doing this for their welfare, for the slight chance that Elizabeth would be restored to the line of succession, the one chance that she could be queen one day.

"You leave the king to me. As long as you and Elizabeth are safe, it doesn't matter."

Westhorpe Hall, Suffolk

The pilgrims had written a letter to the Duke of Suffolk, asking him to speak on their behalf to the king in regard to their grievances against his majesty. And yet, fate worked in mysterious ways. While Charles Brandon was preparing to ride to Lincoln to disband the rebels in the name of the king, he was met with the sight the Duke of Warwick approaching his residence along with Sir Thomas More. He was surprised, him and his wife Catherine sharing a look of confusion during their farewell embrace at the sight of the men.

"My Lord Warwick, what brings you to Suffolk?" Charles asked as he descended the stairs to reach his guests. Warwick studied Charles carefully, him and more exchanging wary looks.

"We hear it is you who has charge of his majesty's army. Is it true? You are to lead an opposition to the rebels?" Warwick returned.

"Yes, his majesty has ordered me to do so," Suffolk continued, watching as the men cringed.

"Then it gives me little pleasure to say that Grace is among those rebels. They reached Wressle Castle and with Percy's health declining in the past few months, Grace could not let his health deteriorate further by removing him. She is among them now, being paraded around like a prize. They think she can speak to the king on their behalf," Thomas revealed.

"Surely she is not so rash as to actually agree with the rebels? You must tell me that she is their prisoner!" Charles exclaimed. Both men shook their heads. Grace was stubborn, just like her father, and agreed with the rebels that there were outrages against the people all on account of Cromwell.

"Would it help if we lied to you, Suffolk?" More questioned. "You know as much as I that Grace supported the late queen, that she agrees with Anne that the monasteries should be used for other purposes and that they should not all be destroyed. Cromwell is radicalizing this country for his own benefit and finally the king has realized his mistake in placing so much trust in Cromwell."

"And he should have placed that trust in you instead?" More sent Suffolk a pitiful smile, shaking his head.

"His majesty knows I am a true Catholic, that I shall never take the oath. But I will never speak against his majesty for I am his humble and obedient servant, but I am God's first. I would have never proposed a survey of the abbeys and perhaps it has undone some corruption of the faith, but I cannot agree with the dissolution of the monasteries and the rejection of holy days that the north still clings to," More stated. Warwick agreed with his brother-in-law, but remained silent, a threat hanging over his shadow at his daughter's disobedience to the crown.

Charles stared thoughtfully at the two men before him, one the father and the other the uncle of the king's lost love. "And his majesty respects your opinions, Sir Thomas. But between us, Grace shall not be harmed. Cromwell is being blamed for everything. And the rebels are demanding his head. With God's help, I may well be able to deliver it."

York 16 October 1536

The words her husband said to the leaders of the pilgrimage reverberated in Grace's mind as she traveled to York with Sir Robert Aske. When Percy refused to accept the rebels, Grace sending him a reprimanding look, Ralph Ellerker warned that Percy's life was in danger to which Percy replied " I do not care as I will die once. Strike off my head whereby you should rid me of much pain, ever saying I would be dead." Grace was aghast at such an answer, cringing at her husband as he stalked out of the room, sending Grace a scathing look in the process. They had argued that evening before she left, Grace defending her stance with the rebels while Percy hinted at the danger of her actions.

"Why are you going with them?" Percy asked, watching as his wife directed the servants around them as they packed her bags. Percy stood angrily, his hands on his hips as he glared at his wife.

"Because they are right, Henry. What Cromwell is doing is wrong. This is a protest against his radical reforms and the wrongs he is performing against the people of the north," Grace declared.

"And what about the king? He will view this as disloyalty to the crown," Percy retorted.

"I could care less what he thinks, and you know it," Grace spat back at him. The couple stared venomously at each other, Grace holding on to her beliefs concerning the reformation while Percy bore some ill-held jealousy against the king. "I am going whether you like it or not." Her decision was final. Grace would not back down and Percy sighed in defeat.

"Then you shall do as you please. And I shall stay here until you return." Percy refused to look at his wife as he left their bedchamber, Grace's pride refusing to let her apologize or go after her husband. She could only hope all would be forgotten when she returned and that perhaps the winds of change would happen, that the rebellion would end with Cromwell's fall.

Calais 18 October 1536

"What do you mean you are to be married, George? To whom?" Anne questioned her brother. Recently reunited, Anne had been pleasantly surprised as well as their mother when George Boleyn greeted them on the docks as their ship arrived. The journey had been pleasant enough, no harsh winds or rough seas to unsettle Anne and her new family while they traveled to Calais. And their good fortune seemed to increase with a marriage for their family.

"As you know, Lord Parker petitioned for a divorce between Jane and I from the Archbishop of Canterbury. It was granted and I am free to marry. His majesty King Francois has granted me permission to marry his niece, Jacqueline de Longwy. It is a great honor to be considered for such a match," George declared. He had been given many more favors than his sister's previous wife had. It likely had to do with Francois' sympathy for him or that he valued George's loyalty far more than Henry ever had.

"And it will make Henry livid," Elizabeth Boleyn replied. "How ironic that previous Queen of England's exiled brother is to be married to the King of France's half-niece. Her mother may be illegitimate, but royal blood still runs through her veins. He will take it personally, I am sure."

Anne's sharp eyes showed a hint of satisfaction within them, knowing her previous husband would be enraged at such a marriage. She smiled to herself, cradling her small baby bump. He would be sent into a frenzy just as he had been when he heard of her and Grace's pregnancies. "Francois is making his contempt of Henry known and is rewarding George for his loyalty. He knows George is innocent. By establishing him as the Duke de Roannais and giving him a French bride, he will have a permanent position at the French court and will be nephew to the king. Livid will not begin to cover how Henry will act when he hears the news."

"Francois is to have a new bride as well. Negotiations have already begun, but he must first rid himself of the threat of the Emperor. He remains in Nice despite the rapid rainfall and Francois will not rest until he is gone. I have heard there will be a resolution sent to the Pope at Rome concerning peace, but his majesty will only concede if Milan shall be obtained," George explained.

"Of course that is his condition. He cares for nothing else. He should like to establish Charles, the Duke of Angouleme, as the Duke of Milan as well," Anne replied. "Anything to halt Charles from obtaining more lands belonging to the French."

"Well, let us hope Milan will fall to French hands once more, or Spain will continue to gobble Europe up whole," Anne concluded.

Pontefract Castle 20 October 1536

The captain of the guard was shouting orders across the courtyard as Lord Darcy made his way to the viewing tower, his face grim as he looked out over the landscape to see the pilgrims making their way to Pontefract Castle. Pontefract was insufficiently garrisoned at the moment and the reason for his wariness. As a pivotal castle in the north, Darcy had asked the king send soldiers in their defense for if they could not protect themselves against rebels, then how could they protect themselves from an attack from the Scots if one should happen.

The voices of the pilgrims echoed throughout the valley leading to Pontefract, a harmonious melody compared to the threat their number presented if they turned violent. The Archbishop of York soon joined Lord Darcy on the turret, his purple robes displaying his rank as a servant of the church while he scowled at the so-called traitors to the crown. Unbeknownst to them, Grace was among their numbers, riding astride her horse directly next to Sir Robert Aske himself.

"My God, Lord Darcy. What a sight is there," the archbishop declared as he made the sign of the cross over his chest. "Arrant rebels against the king's majesty brazenly bearing their badges of shame." He scowled at the lot, severely disappointed with the commons of the north, his own province among them.

Lord Darcy shook his head as he agreed with York. "Indeed so, Your Grace. I never thought in all my long days to see such a sight."

"What are you going to do? Fire on them?" York questioned. He thought it the appropriate response to such a display of offence.

"You know very well I have almost no useful guns," Darcy admitted, his eye finally landing on Grace as he peered curiously at the woman riding at the head of the rebellion. Perhaps she was a hostage of sorts, maybe even a wife of one of the leaders he thought.

"Well, you could resist them all the same, and close your gates," York demanded adamantly. "After all, those are the king's orders."

A thoughtful look appeared on Darcy's face as he turned to York. "As to that, I think it better to talk to them first as fellow Englishmen and fellow Christians." He had no other options but let the rebels lay siege to Pontefract or be peaceful and listen to their plights against the king's orders. He began to descend the stairs, calling out "I'll meet their leaders in the gatehouse outside the castle walls. Guards." York stared on with great shock as he nervously watched the numbers of the rebels increase. They were a sea of sheep being led by their shepherd, their numbers endless and never ceasing. It was amazing and yet terrifying at the same time, but York followed Darcy nonetheless, both waiting for the pilgrims to swarm their stronghold.

Darcy allowed the rebels to enter Pontefract freely, ordering the guards stand down so no conflict would occur between the king's men and the pilgrims. Aske, Ellerker, and Constable led the group towards Darcy and his men, the fearless leaders of the pilgrimage. Grace followed behind them, her hood pulled up around her while her brother-in-law, Thomas Percy, stood loyally beside her. He too spoke out against his brother and joined the march to Pontefract.

Once the pilgrim leaders halted in front of Darcy, the men seemed to be in a stare-down, waiting for one or the other to speak first. Darcy would not appear weak but waited silently for one of the leaders of the rebellion to inform him of their reason for coming to Pontefract. Aske stepped forward, finally ending the silence that filled the chamber.

"My Lord Darcy, Your Grace, we come here in peace." Aske bowed respectfully to both men, speaking clearly and confidently to the lord and archbishop. Darcy remained calm and reserved while the archbishop displayed his distaste at the rebel leader.

"Mr. Aske, as the king's representative, I have the means here to hinder you and to do some injury to your cause," Darcy explained. He would raise arms against them as the king's servant, not because of his own personal feelings.

"My lord, we have embarked upon this Pilgrimage of Grace for the common good, for the love we bear to God's faith, our holy church and the maintenance of it. For the preservation of our sovereign king, and the expulsion of villains' blood and evil councilors," Aske declared while Constable and Ellerker looked on with resolution. York still appeared uncomfortable, eyeing the rebels while Darcy willingly lent his ear to their reasoning. They spoke ill towards Cromwell and not the king, though their actions may have been viewed otherwise. "We mean to petition the king's highness to stop the woeful destruction of our monasteries and abbeys."

"Master Aske, you claim to be loyal to the king, but your very actions defy and deny the king's supremacy," York answered, frowning at the leaders.

Aske continued to be respectful to the archbishop, patient as he explained their cause. "Lord Archbishop, there is no man now alive in England more loyal to the king than l. And I trust in time to prove it. Our quarrel lies not with him, but only with those close to him." Again, a jab at Cromwell was made.

However, Constable began to speak, his anger dripping from his mouth as he spoke against the king's closest advisors. "It's very well for you to sound so high and mighty but it's you and your kind who are also to blame for not advising the king honestly about the spread of heresy and abuse throughout his kingdom. For what are Cromwell and Cranmer but heretics and manifest abusers of this commonwealth?"

Darcy stepped forward, his voice more controlled than Constable's as he tried to divert attention away from his riled friend. "Lord Darcy, as I told you, we mean no displeasure to any person. We ask for shelter and free passage. All our pilgrims here have taken an oath not to slay or murder out of envy, but to put away fear for the commonwealth and march with the cross of Christ and their heart's faith before them. But we will fight and die if you seek to stop us." Aske made clear their intent: they would die for their pilgrimage, raise arms against the king's men so that their voices could be heard. They would not backdown but unite in order to succeed in their mission whether Darcy opposed them or not.

Windsor Castle 22 October 1536

Blood. So much blood covered the crisp, white sheets of the queen's crumbled bed as she sat abnormally still while her small babe left her body. Jane was losing her child, much like Anne had when she caught her former husband and paramour entangled in his study. It was karma, Jane was sure of it. God was frowning down upon her for her endeavors to stray the king away from his wife and marry her. She was sure she would be scolded for her loss of the child, by her family and her husband.

"Jane, you must allow your ladies to change the sheets and bathe you," Elizabeth Seymour spoke in a gentle tone. Out of all the Seymours, Elizabeth was the least ambitious and most sincere family member of the pack of wolves. Recently widowed, Elizabeth had been banned from joining her sister's household as her husband had been a supporter of Anne Boleyn. However, she still was present at court and had been rushed to the queen's side. Meanwhile, their other sister Dorothy was sulking in the background, displeased with her sister for her failure.

"This is my fault. I have angered God, Lizzie," Jane whispered frightfully to her younger sister.

"No, Jane. Don't say that. Perhaps it is a blessing from God. Maybe something was wrong. You are less than two months along. There is nothing to worry about," Elizabeth spoke as she tried to comfort her sister.

"Don't lie to her. It is her fault. Now we will be looked upon as failures," Dorothy spat back at her sister. More tears sprung to Jane's eyes, shocked at her sister's cruelty. She was just like Edward and Thomas. They all had ambition and it overshadowed their family bond. Power was everything to them and apparently her loss of a child meant loss of power.

Meanwhile, Henry was in his study discussing the rebellion with Lord Cromwell, Sir Richard Rich, and Sir Francis Bryan, appalled at the monstrosity of a rebellion that was spreading like wildfire across the north. He was disappointed when a servant told him the queen had miscarried, but there would be no public announcement. The queen hadn't even told him she was pregnant, most women waiting at least two or three months before confirming their pregnancy. It was a loss, but another child would follow. Perhaps it was a sign, a sign that he had made the wrong choice of a bride or God's displeasure at him leaving Anne, but Henry cast it aside to focus on the rebellion.

"I've just received a letter from Lord Darcy. He says that he's in great danger from the rebels and cannot maintain his resistance. And yet he holds a castle, a great stronghold. Does he not mean to stand firm against these traitors?" Henry questioned, staring at Cromwell menacingly as he waited for his Lord Privy Seal to speak.

Cromwell was careful with his words, his beady eyes wary as he answered the king. "Your Majesty, I've just been told the rebels have already entered the town of Pontefract with overwhelming numbers. And…" He hesitated, knowing the next set of news would either eliminate an enemy or prove the king's undying affections for a certain woman.

"And?" henry was impatient as he tapped his fingers against the desk, his jaw clenching. He never liked when Cromwell wasn't straightforward. He seemed to beat around the bush when he was unsure of something.

"And that the Duchess of Gloucester is among their numbers," Cromwell announced. A look of astonishment, anger, and hurt flashed across the king's face as Cromwell continued, a hint of a smirk on his lips. "I have not been told whether she has joined them or if she was forced to come on account of her husband's ill health. The messenger has told me that she gave herself to the rebels to prevent them from storming Wressle Castle."

Henry merely shook his head, his fingers now gripping the table harshly. Bryan looked amused as he stood behind the king, waiting for him to snap at Cromwell. Despite his affections for Grace Neville, now Percy, it hadn't stopped the king from taking Ursula Missledon as a mistress. Bryan had arranged the whole thing. However, any mention of Grace set the king on edge and now Cromwell was paying the price. "Mr. Cromwell, Pontefract is the gateway to the South. It has great strategic importance. You will write a letter to Lord Darcy at once. You will tell him that I expect him to hold that castle at all costs and that I also expect him to protect the Duchess of Gloucester, especially in her delicate state her father tells me of. She is a victim to these rebels, and I will not see her harmed," he threatened.

Cromwell still pressed forward, ignoring Bryan's cocky behavior as he attempted to lecture the king. "Majesty, I believe she is no victim but a traitor as well. She has marched with them to Pontefract showing her opposition to your majesty and her disloyalty to you. She is no better than those rebels who…"

"That is enough Cromwell. I will hear no more ill-talk of her until it is uncovered what her true intentions are. You think I know nothing? Her brother has told me he has sent my daughter to France for her own safety. You think her family traitors as well?" Henry finished. He silenced Cromwell with a glare, the topic of Grace ceasing to exist as he returned the focus back to the rebellion. "And what of the royal army? What are they doing to crush this rebellion? Where is his Grace, the Duke of Suffolk? I told him to make an example of those traitors, to strike down all who are disloyal to me. And that bastard, Shrewsbury. I told him too. What in God's name are these men doing? Nothing. They do nothing in my name and allow this insurrection to grow. I shall be made a laughing stock if nothing is done soon. I have a half a mind to go there myself!" He slammed his hand down on the table, making all three men jump. Cromwell hoped for his sake that the lords sent to represent his majesty would arrive soon, or else it would be his head on a pike and not the traitors.

Doncaster Bridge 27 October 1536

The Duke of Suffolk, Duke of Warwick, Sir Thomas More, and the Earl of Shrewsbury stood side-by-side on their steeds, Warwick and More tagging along with the duke if only for Grace's sake. Warwick and More may have been sympathetic to the rebellion, but they were not stupid. If they had joined the insurrection their families would be in danger. Besides, they were men of the south, not of the north. And it relived them that Suffolk had decided to parley the pilgrims and if Grace was among their numbers, she would be spared as well.

Sir Robert Aske stood on the Doncaster Bridge while the rest of the pilgrims stood behind him. Sitting atop her own horse, Grace stayed next to Lord Darcy and the other leaders of the rebellion. She was perceived as a symbol of the north now, a sign of hope for the rebels since she stood against the Dissolution of the Monasteries as they did. She was the Duchess of Gloucester and Countess of Northumberland, daughter of the Duke of Warwick, a member of the nobility, and dare they say it but the true keeper of the king's heart. Her opinion meant everything to them. She wanted Cromwell removed from power just as they did. She wanted the monasteries to be restored and their petitions be heard.

Warwick made eye contact with his daughter, his eyes scanning her body for any harm and her face for any emotion. He saw none though. She was a blank slate of emotion just as he had taught her to be in situations like this. At least she was well protected, well respected by these rebels.

Suffolk broke away from their small group, coming to halt his horse before Aske. He scanned the crowd, a look of disappointment shown across his features. His 8,000 men were nothing compared to the massive size of the rebels. He spoke first, addressing not only Aske but all the men of the commons who had risen up against the king. "Alas, you unhappy men. What fancy, what folly has led and seduced you to make this most shameful rebellion against a most noble and righteous king and sovereign?" He dismounted his horse, closing the distance between him and Aske as the other leaders followed his direction to come stand with their own leader. Darcy aided Grace in dismounting her horse. Grace clung to his arm tightly, her nerves getting the better of her as she saw Suffolk's tight-lipped facial expression. She cast her eyes downward, her hand resting on her small baby bump.

"Are you not ashamed?" Suffolk continued, lowering his voice to speak to the leaders of the pilgrimage alone. "How can you do this? Not only giving offence to your natural sovereign lord but giving us occasion to fight with you that have loved you more than any other part of the realm and have always taken you for our best friends."

"Your Grace, we mean no offence to His Majesty," Aske replied sincerely. "But we have a petition, which we desire humbly to submit to him for the restoration of many things which have gone amiss in this realm." The man was entirely genuine in his delivery. He was not disloyal to the king but opposed Cromwell.

"We demand the restoration of our abbeys and our ancient rights," Constable announced.

"And that a new Parliament to be summoned to address the people's sincere grievances," Ellerker added.

"I can decide nothing here," Suffolk concluded. "But I propose a truce, during which time two of your captains can take your petition and present it to his Majesty. The truce be maintained until they return." Aske turned to his fellow men as they began to murmur among themselves, but not before Suffolk said one more thing. "My Lord Darcy, can we talk a moment? And the Duchess of Gloucester?" Darcy turned to Aske, the man warily nodding his head for the two to approach Suffolk. He was more worried for Grace's sake, knowing that her position was precarious more-so than his as she was a woman, the king's woman.

"My Lord Darcy, you more than anyone here has cause to be grateful to the king for his bounty for the trust he reposes in you and would like to repose in you still. And yet here I find you consorting with rebels and traitors," Suffolk spoke before casting his eye upon Grace. "And Grace… I don't understand."

Darcy spoke on his behalf as well as Grace's, patting her hand softly as she still held on to his arm tightly. "For my part, I have been and always will be true to the king, our sovereign lord as I was to his father before him. As for the Duchess, she is her own woman. She can make her own decisions as the Duchess of Gloucester. She believes these men to be wronged as do I."

"If you are as true and loyal as you say, then you can prove it to us by giving over your captain, Mr. Aske, into our hands," Suffolk responded while Darcy shook his head, exasperated at such a request.

"Sir, that I cannot and will not do. For a man who promises to be true to someone, then betrays him, may truly be called a traitor," Darcy stated. "Even Lady Percy understands that notion." The conversation ended there, the leaders of the rebellion deciding to send Sir Ralph Ellerker and Robert Bowes to take a petition to the King with the safe-conduct of the Duke of Suffolk. Perhaps their petitions would be listened to or maybe the king would ignore them in favor of Cromwell. Either way, it was inevitable that the Duchess of Gloucester was a figure of the Pilgrimage of Grace now and no one could deny her importance in their cause.

A/N: Comments?