A/N: I am butchering the historic timeline to suit my own desires. I am taking inspiration from true events, but please do not fact check me on the dates and such because I am completely winging it. I am wielding my artistic license to make things work the way I want. That being said, I hope you enjoy this chapter from a new P.O.V.!
Thomas Cromwell cursed Anne Boleyn for what seemed like the hundredth time as he shuddered in his furs. Damn that woman for convincing King Henry to banish him out to this godforsaken wasteland. He had only done what he thought the King had wanted- trumping up charges against the unwanted queen. Of course, Cromwell didn't have any issues with removing the troublesome harpy from the throne. Anne Boleyn had let the power go to her head and she had forgotten who had worked tirelessly to put her there. When she was the King's Mistress Cromwell had proved himself to her and she had done a beautiful job of allowing him to impress the king. Yet as soon as she had the crown, Anne had done nothing to advance him. She had even worked to undercut him and diminish his influence. Luckily, Henry was a smart man who recognized talent when he saw it. Cromwell might have been a man of little means, but he worked hard to become invaluable to the sovereign. Then, as Anne suffered miscarriage after miscarriage, her own influence plummeted. She had been a fool to think he would fall with her. King Henry continued to rely on his expertise and Cromwell had seen the writing on the wall. The final straw for Anne was when he had offered his rooms to the Seymours.
When she had stormed into his rooms and threatened him, Cromwell had wanted to laugh. Her shrill voice had been music to his ears. He knew that she could feel the walls closing in around her and she was acting like a dog backed into a corner. She had railed against him about the monasteries conversions and had acted like she still had the power to contradict him. She had put up a good front about her complaints, but he knew that she had only been angry that he had offered his chambers to her rival. Cromwell had already begun collecting "evidence" about her at that point and knew she wouldn't be a problem much longer. He watched as she was taken to the tower and oversaw her trial with glee. But then everything had fallen apart.
Cromwell didn't know what on earth had changed Henry's mind, but before he could blink Anne was removed from the tower and he was shipped up to Northumberland. Henry had been brief when he had dismissed him, but Cromwell had originally thought that he was being entrusted with important government work. However, when he arrived he had quickly realized his mistake. King James was not stupid enough to launch any kind of true invasion onto English soil. These disturbances at the border were purely rogue Scottish peasants looting. Henry Percy and his sour, sick wife were more than capable of keeping them at bay.
Mary Percy, nee Talbot, was a thorny woman who was an ungracious host. She roamed the halls with a distasteful look on her sharp face and had all but ignored Cromwell. Not that he was complaining. When the woman did choose to leave her rooms and join them for supper, she had complained about almost everything. Her husband was almost the opposite. Henry Percy was a warm man lost in the cold north who did his very best to make Cromwell and his men feel at home. Watching him try so hard to appease his cold fish of a wife was almost humorous.
Cromwell's thoughts were interrupted by the man himself knocking on his door and coming in.
"Hello there Thomas!" he greeted heartily. "How are you holding up?" he gestured towards the furs surrounding him.
"My god, Henry, how have you survived so long up here?" Cromwell growled good naturedly. Henry moved to throw a couple more logs on the fire before sitting across from him, passing him a letter with the royal seal.
"You won't have to find out, I'm glad to say. You're being summoned back south. Though with Christmastime right around the corner, I'm afraid even Cornwall is covered in snow!"
Cromwell's eyes widened as he reached for the letter. "I'm going back to court?" he asked in wonder. His hopes were dashed by the look in Percy's eyes.
"I'm afraid not, Master Cromwell. But south all the same!" he tried to infuse his tone with enthusiasm. "Apparently there's some unrest over some monasteries in Lincolnshire..." Cromwell's eyes shot up from the paper "...Some peasants taking up arms or something. We're both being called to suppress it before it gains anymore attention."
"Taking up arms against the king?!" Cromwell was speechless. And afraid. He had never thought this possible when he had pressured the king to dissolve the monasteries throughout the country. What had he done?
"I guess" Percy was oblivious to Cromwell's inner turmoil. "Anyway, we shall soon both be away from this unending boredom" Percy slapped him on the back and left him to his thoughts.
On the one hand, Cromwell was pleased that he was again being trusted to handle difficult problems for the crown. It showed that even from a distance the King had faith in his abilities. On the other, it was a problem of his own making. If he was unable to resolve the issue quickly and quietly, then Henry's wrath would be unimaginable. Perhaps, though, Cromwell could make this work to his advantage. As long as he was able to squash this little rebellion with ease, he might be able to work his way back to court. At the very least, he'd be out of the god forsaken north.