Hey! So this is my second chapter, get excited! So the foundation is a little shaky, mostly because I can't find any words to move the story along. It's a loooong process, but I'm trying my best! Oh yeah, and did I mention that Joan is immortal? She is.
So here's goes nothing...
I do not own anything except for the plot.
July 1531
The King has ordered a grand ball in celebration of his successful break from Rome, and the banishment of Catherine of Aragon. Much to the sorrow of her supporters, the saintly Spanish woman now languishes in lonesome misery at Kimbolten Castle. Her daughter, Mary, has also been recently declared a bastard, thus being illegitimate. Both mother and child are separated, not allowed to seek comfort with each other.
No, there is still hope! Mary told herself confidently. My mother has aged, but she is still a fighter! She will fight for my rights constantly and until her last, dying breath will she not yield!
Mary was sitting at a table with a few of her remaining ladies-in-waiting. Upon making her a royal bastard, her father the King also took away most of her ladies and gave them to Anne as a token of his undying love for her. Yet another reason she would want him dead.
Mary's grave mood was in stark contrast the all the merriment and mirth, and joy raging around her. Minstrels were singing passionate ballads, as musicians played their joyous tunes. Noblemen and knights went around indulging in wine and getting drunk. Women gathered in bunches, busy with exchanging gossips and light chats. To her, it was a mockery of her ruined, pointless life.
"Lady Mary, are you enjoying the festivities this evening?"
Mary looked up and couldn't believe her eyes to see none other, than Anne Boleyn standing by her. Surprisingly still, the King was not at her side as usual.
"Just fine", said Mary coldly. "Though I don't see how my poor mother's banishment is anything to celebrate."
Anne just laughed lightly before getting into Mary's face, her dark eyes narrowed. "Listen well, Lady Mary, and read my lips. Your pathetic mother is nothing to me, and neither are you, bastard! Do you really think that anything you say to me will matter? The King loves me and I will be Queen, a far better one than Catherine!"
Even as Anne spoke, Mary's ladies were scrambling away from the table.
Mary's hand clutched the edge of her table, yet she remained firmly composed before her opponent.
"If my words don't matter, then why are you angered so?" Mary inquired decisively. "And I am not a bastard! The people love my mother, and she will never stop supporting me. She is the true Queen, not you! Also, good luck with keeping the King's attention...he has a notorious wandering eye", added Mary with a smirk. "Trust me, Anne, you won't last long in the King's heart."
Anne's breathing became hotter, more rapid and her hands clutched into fists. She wanted so badly to slap Mary, to release her forceful wrath upon her. But not here, not now. Another time will do. So with her head held high, Anne Boleyn haughtily turned and walked away, her ladies-in-waiting following behind.
Mary stared after her for a moment, before releasing a sigh of relief. She picked up her goblet and took a sip of ale. She never liked wine, too French. Anne Boleyn was raised in France. All of that sparring back and forth with Anne had made her throat dry and worn.
She scanned her surroundings with a disapproving glare. Then the ceremonial notes of trumpets pealed out, signaling the arrival of royalty.
"His Majesty, our King Henry of England has come!"
Shortly after being announced, King Henry gallantly sauntered into the hall. Mary noticed that he was talking with somebody, a nobleman perhaps. A servant presented Henry with a goblet, which he gladly took.
Raising it high in the sights of everyone, he loudly proclaimed, "To the new Church of England and the future Queen Anne!"
Numerous cheers rose up from the vast multitude, as they toasted with their King. It was the Boleyn and Howard factions that were most enthusiastic. The fortunes were in their favor, for they virtually ruled over the Court with the King tightly under Anne's thumb. Their dream of a glorious dynasty for their namesake is closer than ever to fulfillment.
Afterwards, the rejoicings instantly resumed among the courtiers. From the corner of her eye, Mary caught a glimpse of two people heading her way. She turned her head, and saw that it was only her father...and a young man with blue eyes.
A strange feeling overcame Mary. She found herself entranced by the young man, a certain fascination that she could not describe. She wanted to meet him.
King Henry approached his daughter with a greeting, "Mary, how glad am-"
"Father, who is this gentleman?" asked Mary eagerly and out of term."I have never seen him before."
Henry almost laughed out loud at her surprise question. "This-"he began while gesturing to the lad,"-is Jean du Lys, Ambassador of Francis I in France. There, now you know."
Jean bowed politely before Mary, in the most graceful and fluent motion she has ever seen. She was charmed by him already. Even though he turned out to be a Frenchman, Mary could not find anything wrong with the handsome lad. Though, he does seem to be quite young for an ambassador, for it takes years of education and training.
"Henry! Come dance with me, please!" Anne shot him a wistful smile, as she smoothly motioned Henry to her.
Lovestruck, Henry sought to join his lover so that they can dance together. Looking at Mary and Jean, he said, "Please pardon me, but I must go now. I hope that you two will enjoy the rest of the evening tonight."
Then with a curt nod, he took his leave and wasted no time in reaching Anne. Hand-in-hand, the couple happily entered the dance floor with the others.
Mary and Jean stayed in silence for a moment. "Monsieur ambassador, would you care to take a seat", offered Mary kindly.
Jean du Lys gave her gracious smile in return. "Qui, I would love to. Thank you Princess Mary." He then sat down in the seat across from her.
Once settled, he saw that Mary's eyes were downcast. Her expression was that of loss and sorrow. His brows furrowed a bit.
"Princess Mary...I know we have just met, but I beg you tell me what is bothering you." Concern was clear in his tone, as well as reflected in his eyes.
Mary looked at him, perplexed. Here was this man whom she'd recently met, and don't know anything about apart that he's French...actually taking the time to ask what is bothering her? It's been so long since somebody had shown the same kindness and respect to her, that this stranger is now. It was difficult to respond.
"Well, ambassador, since you asked..."She trailed of a bit and resumed in French."It's just you should know, that I'm no longer a Tudor princess. My father the King have cruelly divorced my mother, Catherine of Aragon. So now I am only a bastard."
She was utterly surprised to discover how light one's soul could become after talking about a problem. Mary felt better than she been in such a long time.
"Ah, yes I understand you",said Jean du Lys. Then with sympathy, he took Mary's hands and held them in his own. "I feel truly sorry for you, young Mary. For I am too, a Catholic and believe in the true faith. What your father did is absolutely despicable in the eyes of God. I believe that you have suffered greatly during these past events, especially without your mother."
Mary was awestruck. He spoke so sincerely, that it was as if he's actually reading her soul. At that moment, everything else sort of went away and it seem like they are the only ones there. What really amazed her was that he is speaking the truth. She does despise her father and his actions, she is hurting from all the blows dealt against her, and she does desire to be with her mother more than anything! Oh, how badly she wanted to burst into tears!
"Lady Mary?"
Jean's voice brought Mary back from her trance and she shook her head. "Huh? Oh, forgive me, ambassador for I did not mean to-"
"No need for apologies", said Jean with a light smile. "But you appear awfully tired. Why don't you retire for the night? I'll inform your father of it later."
He's right, yet again. Mary felt lightheaded and she could barely keep her eyes open at all. Craning her neck to look past Jean, she saw that everyone else was still in high spirits, while showing no signs of tiring even then. Henry was carrying Anne on his back, laughing and enjoying themselves. Henry's friend, Charles Brandon consumed wine by the gallons.
She then turned back to Jean du Lys and said,"I suppose it's the best thing for me to do. Thank you, ambassador, it has been delightful talking with you. Good night."
As she got up to leave, Jean grabbed her hand and she froze. "Meet me in the garden tomorrow", he requested."I have matters of utmost importance to discuss with you."
Mary couldn't comprehend, for it was so sudden. But she had to answer him. "I will."
Once in her bed, Mary couldn't stop thinking about that charming Jean du Lys. Just in that one night, he has proven himself to being kind, sentimental, virtuous, intelligent, and noble. What an incredible man!
Then there's the matter of "utmost important". What could it possibly be, and how is it related to her?
But before she had the chance to dwell on it, sleep came and whisked her away in peace.
The Sun's far-reaching rays banished away the lingering gray of dawn.
The large garden of Windsor Castle became washed in a gossamer veil of golden light.
Joan of Arc stepped into garden, dressed in the formal male attire of the day. Only this time, she isn't being threatened for doing so. It's the ideal disguise for her to assume in a virtually male-dominated environment.
Picking up a rose, she brought it to her nose and took in a whiff of its pleasant scent. Taking a seat on the first bench, Joan noticed that the garden was entirely empty of any patrons. Remembering the events of last night, Joan was not the bit surprised.
They must all be worn out from the festivities last night. It was pretty wild, no doubts about it.
Casually leaning back on the bench, she began to reminisce her meeting with Lady Mary Tudor, estranged daughter of King Henry VIII. Joan had a natural gift for figuring people out. She felt as if she already knew the girl, though she'd been told things by the people in Rome.
Mary is resentful of her father for many things, that is certain. He is under the influence of that Anne Boleyn woman. The whore, whose family are devoted Protestants and enemies of Mary at Court. They are in a shaky alliance with the Howards due to marriage. It's their hope for Anne to become Queen, thus ensuring the advancement of their legacy in England and the success of the Reformation movement. It must be stopped... and I am assigned to do just that.
Perhaps the key to my goal lies in Mary Tudor? What would happen if she is crowned Queen?
At first glance, Mary seems like the most perfect candidate. First of all, she is Catholic and she has the full support of the masses. In their eyes Anne, the mere daughter of a knight, doesn't hold a candle to the Princess with royal blood from both sides. Even if she does give birth to a son, the people will not stand for it. If Henry were to die early, war would break out in England once again, and many will be flocking to be under Mary's banner. Once Queen, Mary shall reinstate the Catholic faith and reunite England with Rome. That shouldn't be too hard, since there are a number of devoted Catholics left in England. Including one of Thomas Moore...
"Lovely morning is it not, ambassador?"
Now standing in front of Joan was Mary Tudor, smiling sweetly. Joan cleared her throat then replied,"Why yes, Lady Mary, it is a lovely morning. Though not as lovely as you." She flashed a smile revealing straight white teeth. "I've always been told that English Roses are visions of pure beauty and grace. You are the proof."
Mary smiled wanly and found herself blushing in no time. "And I've heard that the French are such notorious flatterers. But nonetheless, thank you."
Joan chuckled at her witty remark. "We French just do what we can to survive, dear Lady. Most would call it cowardly, but it's actually quite practical."
Then promptly standing up, Jean offered her his arm. "Care to take a walk with me?"
Mary happily took it, so thus they began their stroll through the vast garden.
"Ambassador-"
"Please, call me Jean as my friends do."
"Jean?" The informality of it sounded strange to her. "As you wish, ambas-I mean-Jean. So tell me, what is this matter of 'utmost importance that you mentioned?"
"Ah yes! Thank you for reminding me. Well to begin with, I'm not exactly who you think, Lady Mary."
Mary was confused and her brows met in uncertainty. "What do you mean, Jean? I thought you are an ambassador."
Jean wistfully exhaled and said,"No I am not. That is only my cover."
"Cover?" Mary's eyes were now wide in alarm.
"The truth is, Mary, I am secretly here as an agent of the Church in Rome. I was sent to England so that I may find out more information on King Henry...incriminating evidence, to be precise. The only reason that I'm telling you this, is because I feel like I can trust you."
He stopped and turned to see how Mary was reacting to it. Slowly backing away, Mary just stared at Jean in astonishment and shock. She remained speechless for a while.
"I-I...I can't believe it",she finally said. "You were really sent here by Rome?"
"Yes",repeated Jean once again."And I know for a fact that you will not tell your father nor anyone about this. We are both Catholics, we are on the same side."
Walking towards Mary, Jean solemnly grasped her shoulders. "I want to help you Mary, believe me. My task is to gather evidence, but I want to do so much more. What I desire is to make all of England Catholic again and stop the Reformation in its tracks. By crowning you as Queen, this can be accomplished. You know as well as I, that the people are willing to accept you as the foremost heir to the throne. For you are descended from truly great Kings and Queens. Who could deny you of your birthright? So will you, Mary Tudor, join forces with me so that we may restore the True Faith in England and grant glory to our Lord and Christ?"
To become Queen of England? Countless times have Mary brooded over the prospect, of being a powerful and independent monarch, adored by her subjects. She's been meaning to restore Catholicism also. Sadly, she had thought them to being only pointless and distant fantasies...until now.
"Yes!" That was her final answer.
Jean du Lys smiled in pleasure at her decision. "Excellent choice, dear Mary. Together and by God's grace, we shall prevail. I promise."
Morning light streamed through the glass window of the King's chamber.
A shirtless Henry laid sprawled on his back in his bed. Groaning, he attempted to rub the sleep from his eyes. Try as he might, he could not pertain any memory of what happened the night before.
Suddenly, he felt a petite hand grasp on to his own. Shifting side-ways, Henry came face to face with his future Queen, Anne Boleyn. Her nude form was covered by a blanket. Her luscious back hair was spread across a pillow.
"How did you sleep?" She asked softly.
"Like a newborn", replied Henry with light smile.
With one arm, he held her close against him. Anne nestled her head under his chin as she gently caressed his muscular chest.
"You want to know what I dreamt about?"
"Of course, I do! Everything you have say, I'll listen."
"Oh, it was so wonderful!"Began Ann with enthusiasm."I dreamt that we are already married. We were immensely happy."
"Did we have children?" inquired Henry excitedly.
"Yes! We had a dozen sons and a dozen daughters. The boys had red hair and blue eyes, all strapping and handsome like you. The girls were beautiful and possess dark hair like mine." She sighed dreamily.
"Ah, that is the perfect family", he said while pecking Ann on the forehead. "Our perfect family."
"I can hardly wait to marry you, my love",crooned Anne. "When will our wedding be?"
Henry hesitated to answer. "As soon as Catherine is willing to acknowledge me as the head of England's Church and renounce her title as Queen."
"WHAT?!" Anne's calm demeanor instantly morphed into rage. "Are you really serious, Henry? That bitch hates me! She will never come to accept the Oath so we will never wed!"
Henry rubbed the aching temples of his head. "Now Anne, there's no need to need to get upset", he told her sternly. "It's only fair that we give her a chance, as she is an Infanta of Spain."
"But-"
She was silenced as Henry held a finger to her lips. "Do not say another word. There is to be no more discussion of this matter, agreed?"
Not feeling well enough to argue, Anne nodded in resignation. Henry was satisfied and he leaned in to kiss her
So that's it folks! This chapter turned out longer than I thought. Who knew I had it in me?
For those who complained, keep your hotdogs in your buns! I am NOT going to make Anne a villain...not for the whole story at least. So put away your pitchforks and torches, I don't want to see them.
A little quick fun-fact: Joan's alias is "Jean du Lys". I chose that name because the French king gave her family the title "du Lys" when he ennobled her and her family. So it makes sense, right? I hope so.
Special thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, even though my writing can be a bit below the bar at times. I'm really getting better, believe me! So please review and make me happy. PLEASE IT'S ALL I'M ASKING!
Ciao!