Thought we built a dynasty
Like nothing ever made
Thought we built a dynasty
Forever couldn't break up

When the Queen had woken up for the second time that night, she hadn't been able to fall asleep again. Catherine toyed with the edge of her duvet aimlessly and watched as the fire burned in front of her. Starting to feel her legs cramp slightly, Catherine got up from her bed and began to pace around her bedchambers to relieve herself of the tingling sensations shooting up and down her legs.

The tingling had disappeared after nearly five minutes of pacing up and down. (It was more like limping, but Catherine would never admit that. Not even to herself.) Looking over at her rumpled bed and then to her customary seat by the fire, the Queen stood between both pieces of furniture, her lips pursed in thought.

After another few minutes of standing, the former Infanta finally decided to sit by the fireplace. She doubted she was going to get much sleep anyway.

Breathing deeply, Catherine let one of her hands wander down to her abdomen. There was life growing inside her once more. After years of thinking she was already barren, the Lord had blessed her with a child she had desired, especially ever since the birth of the Fitzroy bastard.

"I do not know if you can hear me in there," Catherine began with a slight chuckle. "But I want you to know that I already love you very much. And I will do everything in my power to make sure you come into this world healthy. Please stay with me." She lightly dug her fingers into her nightgown, as if her touch alone could ensure the life of this child.

"I'm sorry that I have to hide you. Please know that I never wanted it to begin like this. But your father wants me gone," the Queen said softly. Bile rose in her throat and bitter tears stung at her eyes. "You should be celebrated, not concealed."

"What do you think it will be like?" Catalina asked out of the blue. Maria turned away from her Bible to look at her younger sister who was seated across from her.

"What do you mean?" Maria answered back, and Catalina shrugged lightly.

"Having children," she clarified. "I know it is what all women strive for, to give birth to healthy sons… but what happens after that? When we have fulfilled our duties to our husbands and to our kingdoms, what happens to us?" Sighing, Maria got up to sit next to her sister, wrapping a comforting arm around her.

"We love them," she said simply. "We care for them, we raise them to be the kings they are destined to be one day."

"What if I give England a daughter instead of a son?" Catalina asked softly.

"Then you shall love her twice as hard," a voice said, prompting the two sisters to look up. Their mother stood at the doorway with her fingers laced together in front of her and multiple veils covering her hair.

Maria and Catalina stood up almost immediately and curtsied to their mother respectfully. Isabella smiled at the sight and gestured for both girls to sit down again. They did as they were told and looked to their mother once more, prompting the Spanish Queen to continue speaking.

"England is very different from Spain, my darling." She began, running a gentle hand through Catalina's dark hair. "They want a son to rule one day, the more boys the better. And if you give England a girl, then you must love her a little more than you would a son. For she is going to need your support, you must let her know that she still matters in this world. Do you understand me?"

"Yes Mother," Maria replied while Catalina nodded her head meekly.

Catherine stayed silent for the rest of the night, she had no idea how long she had been sitting there. The Queen watched as the last of the flames died out and soon enough, sunlight started to peek through the curtains.

She heard the door creak open slightly and Catherine turned around to see Lady Elizabeth Darrell enter her bedchambers. The girl had not expected to see her mistress up at all, and that was evident on her face.

"Good morning madam," she greeted politely with a small bow and Catherine nodded in acknowledgement.

"Good morning, Elizabeth." The Queen replied gently. As the girl approached where she was seated, Catherine took this as her cue to stand up from her seat. "How are you this morning?" She asked as Elizabeth helped slip a robe over her shoulders.

"I'm well, Your Majesty? And yourself?" Elizabeth answered, smoothing over any creases in the Queen's dressing gown. Catherine hesitated before answering, unsure if she should unburden her private thoughts to her Lady.

"I can trust you. Can I not, Lady Darrell?" The Queen knew she could trust Elizabeth. After all, she was the only other soul besides Stratford to know of her pregnancy. It was a pointless question, she knew, but Catherine wanted the girl's affirmation anyway.

"Of course, madam." Elizabeth replied almost immediately. She loved the Queen dearly and would do anything for her. Even if it cost her her head.

Satisfied with the blonde's answer, Catherine spoke.

"I had a dream last night. It was of His Majesty's mother," she began. Elizabeth stayed silent and Catherine continued. "It wasn't a dream, it was more of a memory."

The Queen moved to sit in front of her vanity to let Elizabeth brush her hair.

"When Arthur passed, I was devastated. Not because I loved him, even though I did. But the love I had for him was more platonic than romantic. He was such a good man, I do think that I could have loved him had he survived. And I blamed myself for his death, even though I could not do anything about it. I promised Queen Elizabeth that I would take care of Arthur now that I had become his wife. The one thing I swore that I would do for her, I couldn't.

"I was with him when he died. He barely looked like a person upon the hour of his death. He was so pale, you could practically see right through him. His last words were of his mother. To this day, I could still feel the grip of his hand tighten in mine so lightly as he started to speak as if his mother were in the room with us."

Catherine hadn't shed a single tear as she recounted her story. The Queen merely sat there with her back straight and stared back at her own reflection blankly. She noticed the dark circles that had formed under her eyes due to her lack of sleep. Elizabeth swept Catherine's black hair over her shoulder and began to braid the hair at the crown of her head.

"After his burial, I remember the Queen had visited me that same day. In her sorrow, she was so beautiful. I had begged for her forgiveness that day. I felt so responsible for his death." She absentmindedly twirled the wedding band on her finger. "I prayed with all that I had, for her forgiveness. She never gave it to me." Catherine felt Elizabeth's hands freeze briefly before resuming her task.

"Why is that, Madam?" The blonde asked softly as she separated the Queen's dark hair in order to braid it.

"She never blamed me for his death," Catherine answered with a slight smile. The Queen opened her mouth to say more, but ultimately decided not to. They lapsed into a comfortable silence as Elizabeth gentle fingers worked on Catherine's hair. "She loved me." The Queen said softly.

Smoothing down the remainder of the Spaniard's hair, Elizabeth stepped back in a shallow curtsey. Catherine smiled at the blonde through the mirror, bowing her head slightly in acknowledgement.

As Elizabeth eased Catherine into her coat, a knock sounded at the door.

"Your Majesty?" The soft voice of one of her ladies had called out, and Catherine gestured for Elizabeth to open the door.

"Mistress Seymour, good morning." Catherine greeted sweetly. She was quite fond of this girl as well. Such a shy soul, so eager to serve and seemed to be just as fond of Princess Mary as Catherine.

"Good morning, Madam." Jane replied, keeping her head downcast. "His Majesty wishes to dine with you this morning." At this, Catherine's breath hitched ever so slightly. She could not remember the last time Henry had eaten with her this early in the day.

"When did His Majesty tell you this?" Was the only coherent sentence she could think of at the time. Finally, Jane raised her head to meet the Queen's eyes.

"The King is here, waiting for Your Majesty." Catherine slowly turned her head to look at Jane.

"His Majesty is here?" The other lady nodded in confirmation, her hands folded in front of her and eyes downcast once more. Nodding once, the Queen smoothed down the imaginary creases of skirt. "Very well."

Elizabeth and Jane quickly stepped to the side to let their mistress pass.

•

Swallowing thickly, Catherine stepped into the sitting room of her apartments to find the King standing by the windows with his back to her. She breathed in deeply before deciding to speak.

"Husband," she called out hesitantly, making sure to keep a distance between them and Henry turned at the sound of her voice.

"I am not your husband," was the first thing out of his mouth. The Queen bit the inside of her cheek but said nothing, merely nodding to him curtly. "How are you feeling?" He asked her, his voice much warmer than it had been moments ago.

Catherine blinked at the sudden change of pace, it seemed that the King had sensed her confusion and moved to elaborate.

"I was told you had retired quite early last night and did not eat." Henry explained stiffly and Catherine nodded slowly, masking her confusion rather well. How on Earth did he find that out? She must have said this out loud because her husband spoke once more.

"I had sent Charles here to come and speak to you last night, however one of your ladies had informed him that you were already in bed." Folding her hands in front of her, Catherine bowed her head slightly in acknowledgement.

"Your Majesty is kind to show concern," it had been the same thing she had told him the last time Henry inquired about her health.

And just like the last time Henry had visited her in her apartments, the Queen did not seem like herself. Even though he avoided being in her presence as much as humanly possible, the fact that his wife stood a bit too straight and her posture a bit too tense. She did look at him this time and that was a minor improvement.

"How is our daughter?" He asked her after a minute of an awkward silence. The look in Catherine's eyes softened and she turned to him with a sweet smile. The King couldn't help but smile back slightly in response.

"She is doing very well," the Queen told him proudly. "Her tutors write that she has taken to playing the harp and her letters to me are still written in perfect Latin." She cast her eyes down briefly before looking up at her husband once more. "You should be proud of her."

"I am… Catherine." Henry answered immediately, almost as if he was expecting her to say that. Catherine nodded slowly, it was what he always said whenever she spoke about her darling Mary. She looked to her husband when she heard him clear his throat. "Shall we?" He asked, offering his arm out to her. The Queen reluctantly put her hand over his, still very much perplexed by his sudden change in behavior.

Walking into her private dining room, Catherine was pleasantly surprised to find her sweet Elizabeth standing among the servants, holding a pitcher of wine in her hands. The Queen nodded to her favored Lady and Elizabeth curtsied slightly in response. Henry waited until she was seated before taking the seat across from her.

He inspected the servants standing behind his wife as a few of them began moving to serve them. His eyes landed on the man that had referred to his wife as the Queen of Hearts and Henry narrowed his eyes at the seemingly oblivious servant. It was bad enough that the man personally asked his wife to find his daughter a suitable marriage, but now he had to watch the same man serve Catherine.

The King watched as the peasant dropped to a knee in respect and gently set down a plate of grapes in front of Catherine. Henry paid no mind to the boy who served him and Catherine smiled at the man in thanks. Once both men had assumed their initial positions once more, two of Catherine's ladies stepped up to fill their goblets.

As Elizabeth went to pour wine for Catherine, Henry noticed the way her fingers shook ever so slightly. The Queen must have noticed as well since she put a hand over Elizabeth's to soothe the girl. Henry sipped his wine to hide a slight smile, he knew of Catherine's particular fondness of Lady Darrell and it was nice to see that it was indeed true.

The King had begun eating, plucking a grape between his fingers, he looked to Catherine again. Her arms were folded on the table in front of her as she stared at the grapes on her plate with something akin to disgust.

"Why are you not eating?" Henry asked softly and his wife looked up at him like a child that had been caught. "Do you not like the food?" The Queen licked her lips lightly before taking a sip of her wine, Henry refused to let the topic go. His eyes moved down to her exposed throat and watched Catherine seemingly struggle to swallow her wine.

Elizabeth clutched the pitcher tightly in her hands as the Queen moved to take a drink. She was fully aware of her Mistress' condition and the side effects that came with it. The blonde had diluted the Queen's wine with as much water as she could, taking great care that it would still retain its color. But it seemed that even though her wine was mostly water, Catherine still couldn't stand the taste.

Lady Darrell let out a quiet breath when Catherine finally placed the goblet back down, her grip on the wine pitcher loosening slightly.

The former Infanta was fully aware of Henry's eyes on her as she drank and he continued to stare at her even after putting her wine down. To avoid any further questioning that might uncover the true nature of her health, Catherine picked up a single grape from her plate and chewed it slowly. She swallowed the small fruit thickly and forced herself to push down any feeling of morning sickness that might fight its way up.

"Are you sure you are feeling well?" Henry asked.

"Yes, I am. Do you not trust me?" Catherine answered softly and the King sighed heavily.

"You claim to be feeling better and yet all you have eaten is a single grape. Are you sure Doctor Stratford is as good as you claim he is?" His wife pursed her lips, whether it was in thought or in annoyance, Henry couldn't tell. "Perhaps I should send Doctor Linacre to examine you," he commented off handedly and Catherine's heart stopped.

"There is no need for that, Your Majesty," she replied quickly. "I trust Doctor Stratford and his judgement." How she was able to speak without a quiver in her voice, Catherine will never know.

The rest of their meal passed by uneventfully, neither monarch speaking. The servants looked on with little interest after realizing that nothing would be happening between Their Majesties today.

The Spanish Queen spent the rest of her time staring down at her plate, pacing herself with small bites so as not to feel sick. She did the same with her wine, thankful that Elizabeth watered it down significantly. Her hands discreetly found their way to her abdomen, the child had yet to kick but the knowledge that it was there and growing inside of her was enough for Catherine.

Other than watching his wife and her rather peculiar behavior this morning, Henry turned his attention to the peasant man that served the Queen. The man was married, he knew, but a wave of envy crashed through him every time Catherine smiled at him in thanks. And the blush creeping up the man's neck was evident despite the high collar of his shirt.

He and Catherine may be separated, but she was still legally his wife and his Queen. His jaw clenched tightly when Catherine had patted the servant's hand in thanks after bringing her the goblet of water she quietly asked for. Henry continued to stare at the man as servants moved to collect the dishes, leaving nothing left on the table except for their goblets. They all made to leave but Henry held his hand up, signaling that he had yet to dismiss them.

Catherine looked at her husband in confusion, why wouldn't he dismiss her servants? They had finished dining and her servants had done their duties. However, she said nothing.

"There seems to be plenty of untouched food," Henry began and he spared a glance to his wife as he said this. "Do not throw it out. Instead, give it out to the beggars roaming near the castle. God knows when the last time they ate was." The Queen's eyes widened ever so slightly. Out of everything she thought Henry would say, this certainly wasn't it. It was a pleasant surprise.

Taking a final sip of wine, Henry finally stood up from the table. He walked around and stopped right next to a seated Catherine. She did not look at him as he looked down at her, but her head was facing his direction. He placed a gentle hand between the junction where her shoulder met the base of her neck and Catherine shivered under his touch. The King paid no mind to the servants-shamelessly watching them with wide eyes-as he leaned down so that his lips barely grazed the shell of her ear.

"Don't shut me out," he whispered softly and the Queen shivered slightly once more. She had no idea what her husband meant by this, but she instinctively grasped at his other hand, which was flat against the table. The King lightly intertwined their joint hands as his lips moved away from her ear.

Something inside Henry had snapped, but he himself couldn't tell what it was. Almost unconsciously, he bent his head, letting the tip of his nose run down the side of her face. He stopped, meaning to pull back. But whatever unearthly being possessed him had the King pressing a firm kiss below Catherine's ear, just barely below jaw.

The King took satisfaction in her quiet gasp and dragged the hand he had laid on her shoulder up to cup the other side of her job. He could feel her pulse beneath his lips and he felt her swallow when he first kissed her.

And in that moment, all there was was her. Her hair tickled at his nose and the smell of her sweet perfume. He felt her light breath in his ear and the chain of her necklace beneath his fingertips. Catherine's earrings had rested against the back of his hand and the cold metal seemed to shake himself from his stupor.

Opening his eyes, he pulled himself away from her and straightened his back. The King refused to look at her this time as he turned on his heel and walked out of the Queen's private dining room, paying no mind to the servants that had quickly slipped into curtsies and gaped at his retreating form.

"You may go," Catherine said in a whisper and they had all scrambled to do just that, no doubt planning to gossip to the other servants and courtiers about the display they had just witnessed. The Queen didn't have the energy to stop them. "Lady Darrell, please stay." She called out to the blonde, and the girl nodded as she waited for everyone else to shuffle out the door. "Close the door."

After doing so, Elizabeth walked up to Catherine, kneeling in front of her and taking the hand the Queen had held out.

"Madam, are you well?" The Infanta was silent as she gripped Elizabeth's hand, closing her eyes in hopes that the wave of nausea that passed through her would subside. "Your Majesty?" The girl called quietly, placing a tentative hand on Catherine's knee.

When the Queen finally opened her eyes again, she smiled down at the blonde who was looking up at her in concern. Catherine reached out to cup the girl's face, brushing her thumb along her cheekbone.

"I will be fine, Elizabeth. I was merely… shocked by the King's behavior." Catherine informed her softly before removing her hand from the girl's face and standing up. "We must get ready for mass," she told the girl. Not that Catherine needed to, for this was the routine her ladies had gotten used to since coming into her service.

•

Henry's heavy footfalls echoed through the long corridors of the palace and the King paid no mind to those who had slipped into hasty curtsies when he walked by.

Throwing the doors to his private chambers open, the King grabbed the first breakable thing within reach, a glass vase. He hurled the blasted thing against the far wall and the feeling of satisfaction coursed through his veins as the glass shattered into pieces. Henry paced up and down the length of the room, pressing two fingers to his forehead as he could feel an oncoming headache.

His meal with Catherine had been taxing, neither of them willing to say a word. Normally, this was something the King wanted more than anything. If he had to dine with the woman who was still legally his wife, he'd prefer to do it in silence. But the Catherine in his company was not the Catherine he had unlawfully wed all those years ago. Nor was she the Catherine he had begun to resent once his lovely Anne waltzed into his life and took his world by storm.

No, this Catherine saddened him. She wasn't the sweet Infanta that all of England fell in love with. She wasn't even the woman who had so boldly stood up to him during the trial at Legatine Court and walked out on the arm of Bishop Fisher once she had said her piece.

She had only looked at him once, and even then she seemed reluctant to do so. He had brought up the topic of replacing Doctor Stratford with Doctor Linacre and Henry could swear there was a flash of panic in her eyes. The King had seen many emotions on the Queen's face throughout their years together. But not once has he ever seen her look so panicked.

Catherine didn't seem to want to eat either, and it wasn't until he brought it up that she finally did. But even then, the bites she took were small and her sips of wine even smaller. For weeks, Catherine had made herself scarce to him and to the rest of the Court, only showing her face whenever foreign dignitaries arrived and even those visits rarely happened these days.

And then he kissed her. The way he used when they were still in love. Well, when he was still in love with her. Catherine claimed to love him and only him and once upon a time, Henry could say the same.

But the smell of her perfume, the feeling of her skin beneath his lips and her light breaths in his ear, had done something to the King.

His Anne made him dizzy with her kisses, her dances, her laughter. She was younger, wilder… She was free. Anne made his stomach flutter and his heart beat twice as fast. There was a sense of danger in their escapades that made Henry's blood pump harder and the adrenaline rush quicker. It was addicting, Anne was addicting.

Then there was Catherine. Catherine made him steady with the spine of steel she got from her mother and the sweetness she was raised to have. She could make his heart stop and restart it all the same. She had all of England wrapped around a single finger, whether she realized it or not.

Anne was a whirlwind of dancing and danger. Catherine was a haven of peace and tranquility.

If Anne was his addiction, then Catherine was his sobriety.

•

"Your Majesty, just one more push." The midwife encouraged and Catherine let out a pained groan. The Queen gripped tighter at the sheets as another contraction came on.

The chamber was hot and only a single window was open in order for fresh air to come in. Midwives and ladies alike shuffled around the spacious room, preparing for anything the Queen might need during her labor.

"Lady Salisbury," Catherine panted and the woman was at the Queen's side immediately.

"Yes, Your Majesty?" She asked urgently, and Catherine grasped at one of her hands.

"If it comes down, to the child or to me," the Infanta cut herself off with another groan and she pressed her hand holding the rosary to her heart.

"Gentle Lady, please do not say such things." Margaret whispered, holding the Queen's hand in both of hers. "You will survive this and you will get to hold your baby," she assured and Catherine shook her head.

"You cannot say such things, Your Grace." The Spaniard countered through heavy breaths. Catherine could faintly hear the midwife ordering her to push once more, so she turned her attention away from the Countess to do just that.

She could feel the tiniest beads of sweat dripping down the bridge of her nose and her hair completely matted to her forehead.

"Choose the child," she pleaded, hot tears beginning to pool in her eyes. "No matter what the King says, even if he rages against it. Choose the child."

Tears began to form in the eyes of Lady Salisbury as she listened to the Queen's emotional plea. But still, the Countess shook her head 'no,' refusing to let the Queen give up. Gasping in pain, Catherine forced herself to sit up straighter to project her voice.

"I want you all to choose the child, if it comes down to that?" She yelled as best as she could. "Do you hear me?" She cried, looking down at the midwife and back up to everyone else. "That is an order!" And with that, she fell back into the bed, unable to hold herself up any longer.

A faint echo of "Yes, Your Majesty" could be heard and Catherine felt herself smile. If God had chosen this way to call her from this Earth, she would do so knowing that she had brought a healthy child into the world first.

After many hours had passed, the room was finally silent, save for the cries of a newborn. The room smelled of sweat and of blood, but all Catherine could focus on was the wailing of her child. She closed her eyes in relief but opened them as coughs wracked her body.

One of her ladies had walked up to her side, carrying a bowl of cool water and a damp cloth. The Queen sighed as she felt the cool cloth press against her forehead and she looked up at the Lady.

"How is the child?" She asked tiredly, barely keeping her eyes open and the girl swallowed thickly before saying anything.

"She is very healthy, Your Majesty." She answered quietly, almost fearing the Queen's reaction to the baby's sex.

"Healthy." Catherine repeated with a bright smile. "Healthy," she said again, this time with a light laugh. "You must tell the King he had a healthy child at last."

The lady in waiting nodded as she continued to dab at Catherine's forehead.

"We shall, Madam." The girl whispered with a slight smile, and Catherine nodded, closing her eyes as she sunk further into the pillows.

"Name her Mary," the Queen breathed before falling into the realm of Morpheus.

She had a daughter. A daughter she would love just a little harder.

•tbc•