Winter On The Weekend

'Change came in disguised of revelation
Set his soul on fire
She said she'd always knew he'd come around
And the decades disappear like sinking
Ships we persevere god gives us hope
But we still fear'

A Dustland Fairytale by The Killers

11th May 1505, Richmond Palace

Arthur sat in the bay window, looking out at the clear blue skies, a small book on philosophy in his hands. He felt so envious that he wasn't outside riding his beautiful chestnut mare with his friends. He felt so weak, all the time, as though a light breeze would knock him down for good. He had been so hopeful that his strength would return to him but it had not, despite his prayers.

He spent hours praying every day for his strength to return, praying that he would have the energy to be with Catalina intimately. She pretended it didn't bother her, but Arthur could see her disappointment in her eyes when he went to bed alone again.

His blonde hair fell in front of his eyes and he pushed it away in annoyance. He heard the door of his chambers creak open, but he didn't turn around. He knew who it was, he could smell the faint perfume fill the room, the fresh scent of pomegranate.

"Catalina" he smiled softly, turning towards his wife.

She stood proud, her blue eyes bright, her cheeks a rosy hue, a smile playing on her lips. Her gown was a gorgeous rich blue which matched her eyes.

"My husband, we don't wish to be late to the hall".

Arthur nodded in agreement and took his beloved's hand, guiding her through the draughty hall of Richmond.

XX

Today was an important day. Today was the day that lands and titles were granted to those loyal to the crown. King Henry had always understood the importance of rewarding those who were loyal.

Henry sat on the throne, his clever blue eyes narrowed, his lips thin. The gold crown sat proudly on his dark hair and a list of names rested in his pale slender hands. On his right, in a smaller throne, sat his wife, her hand in his.

His darling wife, Elizabeth, was dressed in a stunning purple gown, her eyes kind and a small smile on her lips. She was as beautiful as ever to him, although the plumpness of her figure was more noticeable now, multiple pregnancies having taken a toll on her classic beauty. At 36, she was getting past the age of child bearing which gave her more time to focus on the pleasures in her life: gambling, listening to music and spending time with her children.

On his left, stood his mother.

Margaret Beaufort was a clever woman, cunning but careful. She had been thrusted into prominence when her only child had won his throne and she enjoyed the gift of power. In her hands, sat her book. The book recorded everything of importance, his Lady Mother thought it was important to document everything from the births of the royal children to the lands granted to the nobles to the rules of childbirth for the future generations.

His children stood by his wife, showing the strength of the family Tudor. Arthur was dressed in navy, a fur coat draped over him to keep him warm. He still looked slightly frail, but the Physician had said to expect that. His pretty little wife, Catherine, stood by him, whispering sweet nothings. Henry sighed upon seeing Catherine, she was as good as useless now with her mother dead and Spain divided, especially without an heir.

Henry, or Harry as he preferred to be called, was a handsome boy. Tall and strong with golden red hair and a charming smile. He was excitable and passionate and ever so charismatic. Elizabeth was adamant that it would be wasteful for him to enter the church. His mother had disagreed, saying that Harry reminded her of Elizabeth's father, Edward and stating Harry was far too jealous to be allowed to remain as a powerful Duke.

Little Mary Rose was only nine and was already a beautiful young girl. Dressed in navy like her brothers, she stood tall. Graceful and proud yet she was too much like the Woodvilles for Henry's liking, Mary lacked the same self control that his other daughter Margaret displayed.

At the thought of Margaret, Henry felt a pang of sadness. His oldest daughter and favourite child had been sent to Scotland two years ago to marry their King, James IV. She had provided to be the daughter he had so hoped for. She was intelligent and kept him up to date with letters, she had managed to keep James' eye from wandering despite the lack of heir and she had proven herself to be consistent and fair ruler to her people. He dearly missed his darling Margaret and could only hope he would see her again soon.

Henry smiled kindly at his wife, squeezing her hand gently. Elizabeth had been a good and loving wife and had provided him with his beautiful and clever children. Arthur was going to be a brilliant king. He was clever and kind, brave and just. A true Tudor. England would be safe in his hands. His eyes flashed to little Harry and he knew God had been good in saving Arthur. Harry would never be a good king. He was jealous and passionate and selfish, much too like the Old King Edward, his grandfather.

XX

"Papa, when are we going in?" whined Mary, her soft caramel eyes scouting the room filled with nobles and gentry. Most families were there, with their children in tow, eager to see if they would be recognised by his Grace for their service to the crown.

"Mary, please stop the whining, it is not very ladylike at all. We will be going in soon. We must wait for the King to ask us in" answered Thomas, straightening out his green silk doublet.

He was hoping to be sent to France as a diplomat, especially as he had been forging relationships with those in positions of power. He had even been chosen to escort the Princess Margaret down to Scotland and he knew he had made a good impression on both King James and Margaret. He knew King Henry was hard to please though and was likely to pick a more experienced courtier even if Thomas was sure he would be the best fit.

He looked to his wife, Beth, who was still as beautiful as ever, despite having given birth only a few months ago. His son and heir, George, had been born in November. Her pretty caramel eyes, the same as Mary's, shone with pride and she smiled lovingly at her growing family. In her arms lay a squirming bundle of chubby limbs, with a tuft of dark hair. Little George, only six months of age, was proving to a delight. Quiet and curious, he seemed a lot like Annie.

At the thought of Annie, Thomas startled. Where was his precocious daughter?

XX

"That's a pretty dolly you have there. What is her name?"

Jane looked at the small girl in front of her in shock, red flushing her cheeks. She clutched the tatty doll closely to her as she studied the dark-haired girl.

"That's Susie", Jane heard her older brother answer for her, his hand resting reassuringly on his little sister's shoulder.

The dark-haired girl smiled, her white teeth bright against her sallow skin, a small gap between the two front ones.

"That's a nice name. Mine is called Nanette" she stretched out a new doll in a green silk gown that matched her own.

Jane smiled at her nervously, her hands worrying the yellow fabric of her gown that her Mama had made for her.

"Nice to meet you. I'm Edward and this is my sister, Jane. She's very very shy. Over there is my brother, Thomas but he's stupid", Edward paused and looked to his father, who apparently had not heard the insult. "And that girl in Mama's arms is Lizzie, she's only eight months old. She cries a lot. And that is my mother, she is having a baby AGAIN! And that strict old woman over there is our governess, Lady Godwin".

The dark-haired girl grinned, even more widely, her dark eyes eagerly drinking in the surroundings.

"I'm Anne Boleyn. I'm four. My birthday was last month".

"Annie, there you are. Come over here now" called Thomas, gesturing to his young child. His eyes met with John Seymour's and he glared at him, daring him to mention his wayward daughter's wandering.

XX

The hall was a lot larger than Edward could have ever imagined and it was decorated in rich cloths of gold. On one side sat a group of musicians, softly playing tunes. At the top of the hall sat the royal family.

Edward stood closely to his father, holding Jane's hand who was even more nervous than usual. He wanted to impress his father with his maturity. At the age of six and as his father's heir, he knew it was his duty to make a good impression.

Suddenly he heard a name being called and a group moving forwards. He could feel his father's excitement. According to his Governess, this was a big deal for his father and if he was granted a title then father would have more money and Edward would hopefully be given a tutor of his own.

"Thomas Boleyn"

Edward's eyes stared at the man who had looked at his father with such disgust as he swept himself and his family forwards and into a deep bow. He couldn't really work out what was being said as he was too busy looking for Anne. He could see an older girl of 5 or 6 who was dressed in a rich gown of deep green and he could see a fair woman clutching a baby, but he couldn't spot Anne.

"Thomas Boleyn of Hever Castle, Kent" the deep voice of the King's secretary, Oliver King, boomed, "The King has decided to make you Sheriff of Kent...and grant you the position of deputy ambassador to the Low Countries".

Edward didn't hear Boleyn's response but from his father's tutting, he guessed it was some slimy answer.

As Boleyn walked past them, he noticed little Anne by her father's side and when her dark eyes met Edward's, she gave him a little wave.

"John Seymour".

Edward followed his father forwards, clutching hold of little Jane by his side. He could see his mother dip into a curtsey and motioned to Jane to copy.

"John Seymour of Wulfhall, Wiltshire. The King in all his wisdom wishes for you to become Sheriff of Wiltshire and has decided to increase your annual income to £20 a year".

His father thanked the King and Queen eagerly and took his children back to their original spot.

"Father, did we please the King" Edward asked, tentatively.

"Oh, my dear boy, my clever Edward. We did indeed" smiled John, lovingly ruffling his son's hair. Edward mirrored his father's expression.

"Janey, it means we can get you and dolly some more gowns", Jane nodded eagerly, her blonde curls bouncing round her chubby face.

"And Margery, my love, we can get some more servants to help you round the house. Thomas, we can even afford a pony now for you to train on". Thomas cheered, joy evident on his usually sour face.

"And Ed, oh Ed, we can get you your own tutor. Maybe then you could even go to university".

Edward's heart soared.

God bless King Henry.

XX

Disclaimer - I do not own British History, Michael Hirst's Ideas nor do I own Showtime's The Tudors.

Notes -

To address my guest reviewer who kindly reviewed saying 'Poor Catalina... and poor Anne if Jane Seymour is important enough in this story to warrant her name being included in the tags. I would like to reassure you that both Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour will feature in this story and both will play important roles, so you need not worry. I was just focusing on Arthur and Catalina now because Anne and Jane are both very young/not born yet (going by their birth dates). However, I've messed around with the ages for this AU, so they will appear soon!

I would also say that I have messed around with some dates that titles were granted in. The Sheriff of Kent was granted to Thomas Boleyn in 1511 and 1517. The Sheriff of Wiltshire was granted to John Seymour in 1498-1499, 1507-1508, 1518-1519 and 1524-1526.

Elizabeth of York is still alive as Arthur's survival meant that she did not try to conceive again and therefore did not give birth to Princess Katherine, who's difficult birth resulted in an infection which killed Elizabeth.

I will also differentiate between Mary Tudor and Mary Boleyn by calling Princess Mary Tudor - Mary Rose. From what I can gleam from my books, Princess Mary was sometimes referred to as Mary Rose due to her beauty.

Lady Godwin, the Seymours' governess is my own creation (unfortunately there are not a lot of records of their upbringing).

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy it.