Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors.


Chapter 2 – Death of a Queen


A few days later, Mary stood in the anti-chamber of Westminster Cathedral waiting for her father to arrive and lead her down the aisle to her future. Contrary to whatever Anne had planned for this day, her father had changed it all and planned a large ceremony at Westminster, with every noble within a five mile radius invited and even more attending. A grand procession back to Greenwich was planned after the ceremony, and on the way here, Mary, Henry and Anne all had noticed that the streets were filled with people, far more then had shown up for Henry and Anne's wedding and Anne's coronation both.

Henry entered the anti-chamber silently and observed his daughter. She stood next to a window, her back straight and head held high. She wore a gown of the lightest blue with long sleeves and a low square neckline. Over which she wore a full veil of sheer white fabric with a crown of flowers. She looked beautiful and seeing her like this, even in private she was every inch a princess, in both looks and demeanour. Henry made himself known and smiled at his daughter. He took her hand and placed it in the crook of his arm, leading her out of the chamber and into the cathedral proper. The long aisle seemed even longer to Mary as she watched the man who would be her husband draw nearer and nearer. Finally, they reached the front, where Charles and Archbishop Cranmer awaited them. Mary knelt as her father lifted her veil and kissed her upon the head before placing her hand in Charles' and taking his place beside Anne. The ceremony itself was short and to the point, for which Mary was thankful. However, while the formalities did not linger, it brought the moment when they were declared man and wife closer all too soon. Mary was in a daze as Charles led her back down the aisle and into the open carriage that would carry them through the streets of London to Greenwich palace where a celebration had been planned in their honour.

When they exited the cathedral, a great roar arose from the crowd gathered outside that broke through Mary's daze. Remembering that she was first and foremost a Princess of the blood, she plastered a smile on her face and greeted her people who cheered their Princess, daughter of their beloved Queen Katherine. The King and Anne exited the cathedral after them and Mary was pleased to note that while cries of 'god save the King' and 'long live His Majesty' were heard, the people made it clear they cheered for him, and not the woman beside him. Charles saw Mary smile the entire way to the palace, never once wavering under the pressure she must feel. She had been brought up by her mother to be a queen, and looked every inch a queen, far older then her seventeen years in both looks and manner; and no matter what Anne wanted or the King gave, he saw the fire in her eyes and had no doubt she would never behave anything less then what she was born to be. As he looked at his new wife, daughter of his friend, he promised there and then that he would try to be worthy of the woman beside him, and he would let no one harm her. He also prayed to God that that 'no one' included himself, for seeing the fire in her eyes he was reminded that she took after her father in temperament, and knew from experience that she could make his blood boil; and not in a good way.

They arrived at Greenwich and Charles led his young wife into the palace and through the corridors to the great hall. The King and Anne, and most of the courtiers who had attended the ceremony, followed. Mary and Charles were seated at the top dais with the King and Anne, while the feast was grand with many courses and delicacies. Mary played her role perfectly and everyone, Anne most of all, was reminded of who she was, and who she was brought up to be. Charles and Mary danced often, with each other and with other partners, and the smile on Mary's face as she danced, was entirely genuine.

After many hours, when the night was well and truly upon them, Mary was led from the hall by Queen Anne's ladies and Anne herself, and brought to the Duke's apartments where they prepared her for her marriage bed. Anne was grace herself and while Mary could still not, and would never, like the woman who had replaced her mother, she accepted the woman's help and was even grateful for her advice; which the married ladies among them vouched were all true. Eventually, a ruckus was heard beyond the door and Charles was pushed inside, dressed in his nightshirt and robe, with the King and some of their friends laughing behind him. Once ensured that both parties were together and ready for bed, the attendants withdrew and left Mary and Charles alone. Mary stood still, her eyes downcast as Charles approached her. She closed her eyes briefly as he caressed her cheek and brushed her hair aside, coming to stand behind her.

"Mary." He murmured.

"Your Grace." She murmured back.

"Charles." He insisted, still caressing her cheek.

"Charles." He leaned down and kissed her neck, trailing light kisses from shoulder to shoulder. He felt her relax slightly and continued his soft kisses for a moment longer before reaching around her and unlacing her shift, pulling it down her shoulders and exposing her breasts to him. He felt her stiffen again, however she did nothing to stop him, nor did she make any protest. He knew it had more to do with her instruction, both for this night and for marriage in general, then it did with the pleasure he was giving her. He swore to change that. Mary felt it as he released her shift, letting it fall to the floor, then sweeping her up into his arms and carrying her to the bed. Charles continued to kiss and touch her, in ways that made her feel something she had never felt deep within her. While she did not reciprocate his actions, Charles could tell that she was indeed feeling pleasure from his ministrations. He stopped for a moment, pleased when she made a sound of displeasure, and pulled off his own nightshirt. He saw her eyes widen a bit, seeing him completely naked, but allowed her no time to dwell on it. He pushed her back against the pillows and resumed his ministrations; wanting to build the pleasure within her, distract her, before taking her. Charles trailed his hand down her legs and touched the small bundle of nerves there. Mary cried out in pleasure and Charles continued rubbing at her core as he spread her legs and positioned himself; glad to feel that she was wet enough for him not to hurt her. He wasted no time, and when she cried out again he plunged into her. Her cry turned to one of pain and he stilled as she grasped his shoulders, digging her nails into him.

"It's over, it's alright. The worst is over." He murmured into her hair. Mary nodded as she felt the sharp pain subside, though it did not disappear completely. After a few moments, Charles began to move within her and Mary stifled back a sob of pain, though Charles could tell. He once more began fondling her and playing with that little ball of nerves as he moved within her and both Mary and Charles were happy when the pleasure began to overtake the pain. Mary began to lose herself to the feelings Charles created within her, and Charles himself began to lose himself within his wife's tight heat. It wasn't long before pleasure reigned between them, and Charles began to pound furiously into Mary, though she made no complaint, and he felt himself lose all control as he stiffened and spilled his seed deep inside her. They both collapsed, Charles conscious enough to roll them over so Mary lied on top of him instead of him crushing her, before they both fell into a sated sleep.

oo00oo00oo

The next morning, Charles and Mary woke with the sun and were thankful they had done so for they knew it would not be long before they were disturbed and the bloodied sheets were sought. Charles rose from the bed and went to the basin of water, splashing his face to wake him up. He then grabbed a cloth and wet it, bringing it to the bed where he pulled the sheets from around his wife's body and spread her legs. Mary sat up when he did this, a questioning and somewhat fearful look in her eyes.

"Charles?" she asked quietly. He smiled at her and gently pushed her back down.

"Fear not, sweetheart, I would not take you again so soon, nor would I have time this morn if I wanted to. But you will feel better when all this is gone." He began rubbing the cloth along her inner thighs, wiping away the dried blood and semen. Mary then became aware of the stickiness between her legs and blushed, looking away from Charles who chuckled quietly at her modesty.

"Are you in any pain? I did not mean to hurt you." Hearing his words, Mary became aware of a dull ache between her legs.

"It does not hurt so." She said. "I doubt you would believe me if I said there was no pain, but please believe me when I say there is little pain." Charles looked doubtfully at her but said nothing. When he finished, he stood and put his nightshirt and robe back on. Mary stood to follow his example, but as she took her first step towards her shift she stumbled, discovering that the dull ache intensified with movement. Charles caught her before she could fall.

" 'Little pain,' is it?" He all but growled. She tried to smile but he swept her into his arms and set her down in a nearby chair, bringing her shift and robe to her and pulling them over her head before bringing an extra blanket to set over her lap as he did not want to make her stand to properly dress. Satisfied that she was decently covered he brought another chair over and sat with her, bringing with him a pitcher of wine. He poured them both glasses and they had barely taken a sip when they heard footfalls coming down the corridor, followed by a knock at the door. Charles rose from his seat, motioning for Mary to remain seated, and met the entourage of last night as they entered the door.

The chaplain came in first and immediately went to the bed, followed by the rest; the men going to slap Charles on the back with much laughter and joking, and the women coming to Mary's side voicing both congratulations and concerns. Mary nodded to each of them, even to Anne, but answered none of the questions shot at her, though she did not believe it necessary. Henry stood in the doorway, not really wanting to come in and see his daughter the morning after her wedding night, but also wanting to support his friend in his new marriage. Henry acknowledged these conflicting emotions and knew that in the future he would have to balance when Charles was his friend, or his daughter's husband, for he knew that both roles demanded different treatment at times. The chaplain nodded to the King who nodded in return, bringing more merrymaking from the men, though Charles noted the King's lips thinned and he too acknowledged the dual roles he now played.

Once the proof was found, the entourage left the two newlyweds alone again. Knowing the worst was over, Charles let out a breath of relief and went to the nearby wardrobe, gathering some of his clothes and exchanging his nightshirt and robe for them. He noticed that there was a gown in his wardrobe; the same one Mary wore yesterday. He pulled it out and went over to his wife, helping her rise and removing her robe before placing the gown over her head. He then gently turned her around and began lacing her dress.

"I have never played ladies maid before." He said, unable to stand the silence. Mary smiled.

"You do it very well, Your Grace."

"We are back to Your Grace now." He commented.

"Forgive me, Charles." She said.

"There is nothing to forgive. This is all new to us. And I am sure your royal upbringing does not help in this matter."

"No it does not. Being royal, you are rarely ever allowed relax the formalities; and never can you forget them completely." She said, surprised she was opening up to him.

"Well, then let us not forget who you are and who, I suppose, I am now also." He finished lacing her gown, but brought his hands to her shoulders, holding her still and leaning a bit closer. "Did your father tell you we are to be known as Their Royal High-"

"Highnesses the Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. Yes he told me."

"I fear we will not have much rest or relaxation in the coming years. But perhaps, in the moments when we are alone, we might try for some familiarity. I would not my wife be a stranger, could I help it." Mary nodded and turned to face him; looking up into his eyes, noting how tall he was compared to her small stature.

"Yes, Charles. I would not my husband be a stranger also, could I help it." Charles smiled and leaned down to lightly brush his lips against hers and was happy when she met him half way.

oo00oo00oo

Life after the wedding settled into a calm normalcy for Mary and Charles. They were often at court, for the King never let Charles wander far, and also seemed to not want Mary to wander far either. Charles told Mary in confidence that the King had greatly missed his daughter during her time in exile and now that he had her back, he seemed not to want to let her go.

The entire court seemed to rejoice at the return of their Princess. It was no secret that Mary had been dearly loved, and it was also no secret that there were very few who would go against the King. So when Mary fell out of the King's favour, she fell out of favour with the court. But now being returned as her father's precious pearl, the Jewel of England, the court welcomed her back with open arms. This irritated Anne to no end. It became very clear to Anne that those she thought her friends, and while it was true that they were more then kind and gracious to the new Queen, ever willing to do her bidding, seeing them welcome Katherine's daughter showed Anne where their true loyalties lay; and how quickly they would turn against her if only they thought they would not die for it.

A few weeks after they were married, Charles took Mary to his home in Suffolk. She met his son Edward, her cousin, born of Charles' marriage to the King's sister Margaret. He was seven years old and had met Mary once or twice when he was very little, before Anne took over and Mary was exiled. He did not really remember her, but welcomed her warmly. Charles attempted to make it clear that he did not expect her to become a mother to her cousin, especially as their ages were less then ten years apart.

"I understand what you trying to say, Charles." Said Mary their first night in Suffolk, when Charles spoke to her about this matter. "As he grows, as we grow, the difference in our ages will seem less and less different. It would not do for him to call me mother when we are full-grown. However, I will not leave his upbringing entirely to nursemaids. I intend, with your permission of course, to make it clear to Edward that I am available to him in any capacity he needs; whether it starts as more of a mother figure, and turns into friendship or even that of siblings. And I shall never let him forget his mother. I loved my aunt Margaret dearly though I was still young when she passed. He shall know what a kind and gentle heart she was." Charles smiled at Mary, once again in awe of her maturity. He pulled her to him and decided on showing her his gratitude rather then telling her.

After a short couple weeks in Suffolk, the King commanded Charles and Mary both to return to court. Mary insisted on bringing Edward, who had not been to court since before his mother died. The King was, after all, Edward's godfather and, in Mary's mind, had been sorely neglecting the boy, as well as taking his father away from him. Henry welcomed both Charles and Mary back with a grand banquet and also happily welcomed his nephew and godson, even admitting aloud that he was remiss in not bringing him to court earlier. Anne was none too pleased that there was another Brandon at court and another person close to Mary to occupy the King's attention. Her only consolation was that she was carrying the King's son, and her place as Queen was secure.

oo00oo00oo

A couple more weeks later, word came to court that Katherine of Aragon was desperately ill and was not expected to live much longer. Anne and her family and supporters were thrilled. Mary, however, was devastated and upon hearing the news immediately flew to her father's chambers. Thankfully he was only in a meeting with Cromwell and seeing the desperate look on his daughter's face, he ordered the man to leave.

"Mary what is it?" he asked when Cromwell had closed the door. Mary approached her father and fell to her knees before him.

"Your Majesty, father, I have just heard the most terrible news that my lady mother is ill, and nearing death." Henry closed his eyes for a moment, knowing what Mary was going to ask and thinking if he would allow it or not. "I beg Your Majesty to allow me to visit my mother before she leaves this Earth. Please, Your Majesty, please." She bowed her head and felt tears flow down her face. It was this show of emotion that had Henry worried. His daughter never cried, and always had a firm control of her emotions. She was, after all, told from infancy that a princess never lost control of herself. Henry found himself joining her on the floor, but he held onto his emotions as he pulled his daughter to him and held her.

"Shh, Mary, it's alright. Everything is alright." Henry had no idea where this sudden, and rarely seen paternal instinct came from. He had never dealt with any of these emotions before, nor would he allow it of his child; but now, after having lost her and regained her, realizing how he had truly missed her and loved her, he was feeling things he had never felt before, and never had been allowed to feel before. After her sobs subsided, Henry pulled away from her and lifted her tear stained face up to look at his.

"I will allow you to go to your mother, and will even send Dr. Butts to tend to her." He said, holding up a hand when she face brightened and she opened her mouth to thank him. "However, I cannot allow the two of you to be alone. Charles will accompany you and he and Dr. Butts will be with you at all times." He tapped her chin and gave her a very serious look. "Mary, I want your word that you and your mother will plot nothing against me, or Anne. She is my wife and my marriage to your mother is not valid. We had been living in sin for years. For all that I love you, you must swear to me you plan nothing with her. For should word reach me that the two of you plan to take up her case, or send letters to the Emperor, you both will be punished. Am I understood?" Mary stared into his eyes for a moment before nodding.

"I swear to God that I plan nothing, nor will I ever plot against you. I wish only as a daughter, to see my mother before she dies." Henry now stared into her eyes and saw that she was still not in control of her emotions, and so her royal face of steel was not in place. He nodded in acquiescence and pulled her to him once again.

To say Anne was upset about Mary being allowed to see her mother, when neither of them had signed the documents demanded of all the King's subjects, would be an understatement. She was furious and swore that they would plot against the King to place Mary on the throne above their unborn son. Henry swore otherwise, but given Anne's condition, commanded her brother George to accompany them to the More to placate her. Mary was too happy about seeing her mother again to care that there would be someone there who hated her and her mother and would report everything said, or unsaid, to both Anne and the King.

The ride took nearly three days, even though they traveled with only what they could fit in their saddlebags. When Mary saw the More her face hardened seeing where her father had exiled her mother to. No wonder she was ill. Lady Elizabeth Darrell ran into the hall when she heard the door open. Upon seeing Mary she burst into tears and thanked God that her mistress' one desire was fulfilled. Elizabeth pointed into the room from which she came and Mary dashed forward, seeing her mother lying, quite delirious, on the bed.

"Mother." Sobbed Mary as she rushed forward and knelt at her mother's side. "Mother I am here, I am here. It's Mary, your daughter, it's me." Katherine slowly turned to face Mary and a smile came to her face seeing her child.

"Mary, my Mary, is it really you?" she asked, her voice hoarse. Mary nodded and grasped her mother's hand, kissing the back of it. "Oh Mary, you have grown so much, my darling child. Tell me what has happened? How are you here?"

"The King let me come." She said, than explained more seeing her mother's confused look. "I am married, mother, married to Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, by the King's command. I've been back at court for a few months now. When I heard you were ill I begged the King to let me come, and he relented."

"Oh Mary, my child, you are taken care of. I can die peacefully now." Mary shook her head vigorously.

"No, no mother, don't leave me, please." She turned to Dr. Butts who, like everyone else, stood stock still in the doorway. "Is there nothing you can do?" she begged. Dr. Butts snapped out of his reverie and came forward, coming to check on the dying Queen. After a quick examination, Dr. Butts turned to Mary and shook his head. Mary burst into tears once again and Charles stepped forward to comfort his wife, and see this most gracious and true Queen one more time.

"Your Grace, you're here too." Said Katherine. "You will take care of her, I know. You are a friend to the King, but you are a good man. You will take care of her." Charles nodded.

"Yes, Majesty, I will." He murmured not caring if Lord Rochford heard or not. The woman was dying, he was not about to agitate her on her deathbed. At least, that's what he'd tell Henry if need be. Katherine did not last much longer. She seemed to be holding on just long enough to see her daughter once again. Within a few short hours, Katherine of Aragon, Queen of England, departed this world.


A/N - Review please!