Here is the next chapter of Autumnsong. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I realized this story is going to be more than three parts.
Warnings: Semi Erotic Torture, Minor Violence, and Religious Bashing.
Survival and Blasphemy:
Katherine wondered what Thomas was going to tell her. Was he to tell her of a horrible beating? How sick he was and was not cared for until the last minute? What cruel words were thrown at him to bring down his spirit? Was she to find out something that he didn't even tell Henry?
Both sat on the edge of the bed silent for a while so Thomas could collect his thoughts. His hands better yet; hand and wooden hand were folded on his lap. His eyes were cast down onto the floor. Katherine waited for a few moments with her hands by her side. Thomas sighed and buried his face in his hands.
"I don't know where to start," He said, "There were so many horrible things he did."
He suddenly heard his captor's voice echoing in his mind:
You weak pathetic coward.
Those words, those horrid words his captor would often say to him.
Thomas knew he was free. But he suddenly felt himself back in the mercy of his captor. His body bound with heavy ropes. Those strong fingers laced in his hair jerking his head back so far, he felt a strain in his neck. Those rough fingertips running up and down his throat. The fingers paid particular attention to the Adam's apple, for they took delight in the feel of his throat vibrating as he gulped and whimpered. His body would shiver in fear and at the same time delight at the touch.
Please don't do that He would whimper desperately at violation of sensitive areas.
His captor wouldn't show him mercy. Those fingers would continue to grope the lawyer's throat as his head was jerked further back. The warm breath now tickled his ear. He would wince then as those horrible words filled his ears:
Remember when I told you Sir Thomas More, that I was going to fucking tear you apart, well I succeeded. Don't deny that you now sit here broken.
Thomas closed his eyes in shame. That ugly voice in his head was right, he was broken like some used toy. He wanted to deny it but he couldn't. As a former lawyer he knew not even the most airtight evidence could-
"Mi amor" Katherine said jerking him out of his thoughts, "What's wrong?"
He brought his hands down from his face and placed him back at his sides. He felt Katherine lightly grab his hand and caress the top of it with her thumb.
"Flashback."
He turned his head away from her. He didn't want her to see the fear and confusion in his dark eyes.
"What was it? We'll start there."
Thomas bit his lip lightly. He felt Katherine's hand lightly running up and down his arm. She was encouraging him and he felt comfortable with her. He turned his head back at her.
"When he would verbally humiliate me, he had a ritual, he would grab me by he hair so I couldn't move my head, his mouth would be against my ear, I still remember the sound of his heaving breath vividly. And as he would, verbally taunt me he would…"
He closed his eyes and felt it again. His body still bound with heavy ropes to the wooden chair. The fingers were still trailing up and down his throat. Except now involuntary moans were escaping the back of his throat. The other fingers that were laced tightly in his hair loosened their grip. That evil laugh filled his ears. He would break at this point. The tears would rush down his eyes, from the shame he would feel giving into the temptation of his unruly flesh. But that wasn't the only reason he cried. It was something else.
The touch on his throat reminded him how much he missed a certain person he loved. A person he longed to be with the most even above his Harry who he hoped would save him this hell.
Katherine. He heard his own voice echo desperately in his head.
Katherine looked over to him who was trying to mouth out something, but he couldn't make out. She was concerned now. Did that evil bastard touch the man she loved in such a inappropriate way? Was he strangled? Katherine wanted to know and she was minutes away from marching to the Tower of London and killing that evil horrible man with her bare hands.
"Mi amor what would he do to you?"
Thomas turned his head away and sighed. He wasn't crying this time. Crying would just let that horrible, arrogant bastard win. He just squeezed the hand that held and caressed his. Just like he squeezed his Harry's hand when the physician tended to those horrid wounds.
Remember Tom; He heard his Harry's voice now echo in his brain, you are not in this alone. We are all here to get you through this, especially Katherine and I, for your pain is ours.
He took a deep breath as he continued speaking.
"His
fingers would just keep attacking my throat. I always thought he
would strangle me then, so I would close my eyes and braced
myself for the kingdom we called heaven, though I didn't want to
go, you know how I thirsted for survival."
His story of survival, a story that made every man in court scratch their heads, even his enemies. Most men, even men as brave as the Duke of Suffolk, would be begging for death after days of constant agony. But not Sir Thomas More, whose mantra throughout his ordeal was "I will survive this and I shall be honored and remembered as a man who suffered great tribulations and make it out alive," he did.
He was right. He did survive his ordeal, was elevated to Duke Sussex and re-appointed as Lord Chancellor for it, and rumored to be the next candidate for the prestigious Knight of the Garter for his bravery. His newfound power was something he complained about, mainly because he wouldn't indulge in such power. But when Katherine reminded him that of all the men that were created Dukes he actually deserved it, Thomas quickly accepted and appreciated his new title.
Another positive Katherine found. He appreciated things much more, including life.
Katherine watched as his eyes lit up when he spoke of his determination of survival. She was proud of him just as he was proud of himself for it. But Katherine, being known as one of the most devoted Queens to the Catholic faith, knew there was something else that helped him survive. Something she failed and should remind him about, especially with his new views on religion. She ran her thumb lovingly on the top of his hand.
"Yes Mi amor your will to live and be home with me, your four beautiful daughters and your handsome son, definitely was a drive to help you live. But there is something else that let you live and that is God's good grace-"
Before she could finish her sentence Thomas started chuckling. Her empathy she bared for him during his ordeal slowly started to fade. Did he even care for his immortal soul at this point?
"God, you think God saved me? Katherine love, you are clearly mistaken. It was just my wishful thinking that helped me live and it was Harry who freed me from that prison. Not God."
Katherine suddenly felt the rage burning through her body. She did love him, but she didn't love his agnostic close to atheist view on religion. She quickly got up from the bed.
"What?" Thomas said, "You really think God is really listening?"
Katherine put her hands on her hips and looked at him in rage.
"I usually keep my lips shut," she said, "but you are sending your soul into eternal suffering. I will not allow it. Especially since you are known to be a fierce Catholic, condemning almost every other faith that believes it otherwise, you are contradicting yourself. Hell you were willing to die for it along with Bishop Fisher may he rest in peace."
Thomas started laughing harder. Laughs so loud that they echoed off the walls in the bedchamber. He sprung up from the bed and started walking towards her.
"And poor John missed the pleasures in life to marry an imaginary being, he was a fool, along with me. To think I whipped myself so that made up thing to forgive me. If I were to whip myself now what would that do give me more scars on my back! If only I known then that I will ask him for help one day when I need it the most and totally ignored me. God doesn't listen."
Katherine growled.
"He LISTENS to EVERYTHING and will eventually answer all your prayers."
Thomas laughed even harder, nonsense that's what he thought of it.
"If god answers ALL your prayers, tell me, when Arthur was near death and you prayed for his life…and what happened? HE DIED, and when you used to pray for Harry to come to your bedchamber in the end of your marriage did he? No he was probably making love to one of those Bloody Boleyn Girls, and when you prayed for a son, why didn't he make Agnes or Mary a boy? One explanation, he doesn't fucking CARE!"
His temper was breaking again and now speaking such blasphemy. Katherine couldn't believe it some things he said were right. But she wasn't going to succumb to his beliefs. She was the daughter of Isabella of Castile. She was stronger than this.
"So he didn't answer ALL my prayers, but that doesn't mean I gave up on God altogether."
Thomas was close to her now. Faces were now inches apart.
"Then you are a fool! I was a servant to god; I did everything he commanded me to and believed there was a purpose to everything, so I prayed to God to lead Harry to find me quickly so he would rescue me but instead left bound and helpless for 10 months I let it slide because I thought it was to make me stronger, but when that Bastard told me he wanted to use me so he could kill Harry, I spent the night before Harry came on my knees begging and pleading to God to cause no harm to Harry because he was doing a selfless deed, what happened, Harry came to save me what happened that bastard pointed musket at me Harry jumped in my way and the musket ball hit him straight in the chest, I thought he was dead but LUCKILY he was wearing a breast plate, he got scraped and fell unconscious from the shock of it. As I held what I thought was the lifeless body of the King and from that moment on I realized one thing god is nothing but a sick, cruel, deaf bast-"
SMACK!
With tears in her eyes from the words, Katherine smacked the man she loved across the face. Not hard enough that it would leave a mark but enough to leave a message. She expected Thomas to wince. But he just stared at her blankly, just like he would do with his captor. His eyes closed thinking he was getting another beating. And on impulse without knowing where he was or who was talking to he said calmly:
"Forgive me for upsetting you, I pray that you show me some mercy."
Katherine was now sobbing. What had she done? She tried to make him believe again but instead he was probably thinking that she was now going to tie him down and beat him. She had to pray for god to forgive her for doing such a barbaric act. And Thomas instead of another slap heard Katherine crying. He slowly opened his eyes.
"Katherine," He said, "you didn't hurt me at all you were upset at what I said, I understand."
He went to touch her to tell her it's all right, but she started stepping backwards.
"Don't I hit you," She said while walking towards the door, "Your words, do you even know what you are saying."
"Katherine where are you going?"
She turned around to face him. Tears of rage streaming down her cheeks.
"To pray, for god's forgiveness for hitting, to pray for your soul for saying such horrid things, I hope you know you are letting that man by losing yourself."
Thomas looked to the ground in shame as Katherine walked out the door. He didn't say anything to object because she knew she was somewhat right. But at the same time she didn't understand nor comprehend the emotional wounds that were still inflicted inside him. She stood in the doorway one last time to say one last thought:
"And by the way, you think god doesn't listen to me, after that night when I visited you and we made love, I prayed every night for god to keep you so I could hold you again and guess what he listened."
And with the sound of the door slamming in his face, she was gone. He sighed. He knew what he had to do. The road to emotional recovery was long but he had to start for her. He walked to his cabanet by his bed and opened his drawer. And he released an item that like him, remained imprisoned for a long period of time:
His rosary. The very same rosary that his Harry gave him the Christmas before his abduction, and the very same rosary that he clutched in his bound hands as he remained tucked away in the basement. He walked over to the side of his bed and knelt down. He slowly and reluctantly crossed himself. Clasping his hands together, he whispered:
"Dear Lord Forgive me, but please give me a way to believe in you again."
I hope this is a good place to cut it off. And I hope I didn't give you dirty ideas like I gave my good friend Doc LOL!
