Disclaimer: If I did I would be Goddess Supreme now wouldn't I?

Thanks to everyone who's taken this journey. You all are awesome. Enjoy this final chapter, as you progress you will see why I've chosen this song.

~VXLP

Chapter #65: The Hand We Deal With

"Abraham took Isaac's hand and led him to that lonesome hill
while his daughter dared and watched,
she dared not breath, she was so still
just as an angel cried for the slaughter
Abraham's daughter raised her voice,
then the angel asked what her name was?
She said: I have none
then he asked how can this be?
My father never gave me one!
And when he saw her raised for the slaughter
Abraham's daughter raised her bow
How darest you child defy your father, you better young Isaac go!"

~Abraham's Daughter; by Arcade Fire (Hunger Games soundtrack -2012)

1575, August 14th

Navarre,

"You must understand I love my stepdaughter as much as she was my own" The King of Spain told the King of Navarre.

"I understand" Said the King of Navarre, Henry Bourbon "And rest assured I will treat your daughter as if she was the Virgin Mary herself"

Diana smiled at his jest, her stepfather did not and eyed the fellow King coldly. "Just treat her well and everything will be alright between our countries" He said squeezing the young man's shoulder tightly.

The King had nothing to do but laugh when he went to his young's wife chamber. "Listening?" He asked as she withdrew herself from the open door.

"A little" She confessed.

He smirked, they were liking each other already. The next morning she pinched herself to make sure this was not a dream.

She was so embarrassed when her father and his bishops entered her chambers and blessed the bed. He wished her good luck before he went to the parlor and warned Henry.

Diana opened her eyes and woke from another dream. She turned to her two maids. "Leave us" She told them and went to close the door behind her Uncle Anthony.

"Tell me" There were no courtesies between them. She wanted to know what was the current situation with her brother.

By his grim face she already guessed his answer. "Not good" She was right, he told her Philip was unwilling to pay for his son's ransom. "Instead the King of England, your brother is willing to pay for his ransom. He has agreed to give better lodgings to your brother in return for everlasting peace with your father." He stated as he knew she no longer considered Philip her stepfather but something more than that, he was her father, her provider.

She furrowed her eyebrows. "What do you mean my father? The King does not want an alliance with either countries" Unless he has something in return, they knew was what she was trying to say.

"Of course not, not yet but further along the way he needs a bride for either his son or grandson, his official heir."

Her eyebrows furrowed more, if possible. "So ... you mean he is considering Elisabeth de Valois. Really? The French Princess over a million other women who would be more suitable for the Prince of Asturias" Furthermore, she added "I thought that Don Carlos swore he would never divorce my Aunt." Part of her she still had a soft spot for her Aunt.

"Not yet," He repeated, "But your father is a persuasive man and it is not as if he is going to annul the marriage like your grandmother's"

"So what will it be then?"

"I am getting there Your Highness" He said with a mock inclination from his head. She rolled her eyes. He cleared his throat. "No, I think that your cousin, the young Prince and your father's heir will not easily accept this, he might be pressed by your father but he will never warm up to the French Princess." He said as a matter of factly way.

"What he will be left to do is sell her to your uncle. Your Aunt will be given a nice castle, furnishd and everything she desires at her disposal just as your mother stated in her will"

"That is a nice way of putting it." She said raising her eyebrows, but she should have not expected less from her uncle's boldness. Aunt Bess always described Anthony as the old one and George as thoughtful, intellectual, and quiet one. They certainly were so different, she wondered if they were really brothers.

At the mention of her mother her face saddened but she composed herself quickly. "Well I can't say that I agree" He said scratching her head to lighten the sad mood he caused. "But is the best deal your Aunt will get and she is not stupid she knows her support for Albert is doomed, not that ever was any but she maintains there was, probably because she wants to get as far away from your uncle as possible. I don't blame her."

Sounded like her Aunt, she always admired that, she was conniving, manipulativfe, and strong, she always enforced her will on others but she was also much more. She was thoughtful and kind human being beneath that conniving exterior.

"So what now? Now that everything is settled, the King should let my brother go."

"I wish it were that easy but not so. He needs assurance from your father he will accept his aunt hand in marriage to your uncle or cousin, most likely your uncle."

So, she thought, that is where I come in. Who better than to convince her father through her kind and gracious words that this was the best course to take? He always valued her wisdom above her own mother's even.

1575, August 28th

England, London Borough: Greenwich, Palace of Placentia:

Triumph! Triumph! Triumph! The people of England cried and arose to clap at His Most Illustrious and Glorious Majesty, they cried. Their cries were sophocated by the coming of the Queen whom they clapped for even louder as her large belly demonstrated that the dynasty would last a hundred years more.

"Glorious people of England!" William raised his arms in ectasy. From his balcony he could see everyone from London and other parts of the Southern England coming all the way to see their victorious King. "I come to you not as a glorious and majestic monarch but a simple man. I could not have won this war without the sacrifice of so many men who died in the line of duty. To all those widows, orphans and daughters we will reap the benefits from dead Albert and France and I shall give them to you, the people who I am forever in your debt."

The people's throng of cries were inundated by gold that William threw at them. People were stepping and fighting one another to get their hands on the King's treasure he had won from the defeated German ships.

He turned to his wife and grasped her hand and they went inside and let the people rejoice in his victory.

September 4th,

Hertfordshire, Hundson Manor:

Mary could barely stand the clamor outside her door. Now the Queen was coming to visit her. She could not stand the sight of her, it was enough to make any good common sense woman sick. The way she paraded herself in the crowds, you would almost believe they worshipped her, showing off her belly as if she was some goddess of fertility.

Mary scoffed, anybody could get pregnant these days. She knelt before the Queen when she entered her parlor. "Your Majesty" She and the few ladies that were left followed her lead and when the Queen asked them to seat, they all followed her cue rather than hers.

"Lady Mary 'tis so good to see you. How long has it been? I remember I saw you when the King came here to visit you, just after the celebration of our first son. You refused his invitation to be godmother" Not a question but a statement and Mary nodded, looking at the young woman coldly.

Her chocolate brown eyes bore into her and Mary was instantly disturbed, she looked away, but the Queen's voice brought her back. "I was thinking this is your chance" she said joining both hands as if in prayer, but to Mary they signaled more of a command. "to revindicate yourself. We have appointed two godmothers for their christening..."

"Their?" She asked out of turn, with a raised eyebrow.

"Why yes. It is obvious now I am carrying two more boys." She said becoming the defiant Queen her husband's men learned to fear and whose voice commanded respect, "We have two godmothers and two godfathers but we need two more, one of each for the firstborn of the twins, communion."

"You were thinking of me then?"

Her face lightened. "You have been a good godmother to your granddaughter, Princess Margaret and she had nothing but good things to say of you before she left. I am sorry for what happened to you, William should have chosen a better lodging. You were after all the King's daughter and Dowager Duchess of Bavaria. After the ceremony I promise I will speak to him."

Mary looked at her with uncertainty, her eyes still shot daggers. "If I go."

"If you go." The Queen confirmed. She rose, she raised her hand at Mary and told her and her ladies to rest. She walked to her and took her hands in hers. "Reconsider Milady it is another chance for you to shine like when you were your father's pearl."

That hit Mary hard. She rose with all the dignity and grace, steading herself despite her old age as her eyes met the Queen's dark ones. "I shall go. This is a great honor, thank you, Your Majesty."

"Rest Milady, me and the King are grateful for your years of service to the crown, and we hope you will continue to make us proud."

She and her ladies boarded her carriage left to the great state William had built for her, just five miles away from Hundson.

Another way to keep her monitored, Mary thought. But, there was nothing she could say, her young grandson had obliterated her other one and taken over Bavarian and the Palatine-Neuburg, a really small holding but considerably significant that put the Empire and Spain and France to shame.

She reflected all those years ago when her father held her in her arms and paraded her after the day of her christening and communion, and swore "She never cries" if she was the Isaac to her father's Abraham, the crown of England and if all her sacrifice and love for her legitimate family had been worth it?

"I am the sheep to whom all blame must fall."

She reflected. A woman, a fighter, who dreams exceeded that of common men. History would remember her as the untamed shrew, the witch, the harlot ... History remembers Kings. William had reaped the benefits of his predecessors, including hers but there would be no one to advocate her so she took out a piece of pen and paper and decided to write her story, just as she remembered it and last she wrote "Let History Judge Me According My Words." and signed ~forevermore Mary, Princess of Wales, Pearl of Christendom

A/N: Gathering all the resources, this chapter was a bitch plus two pain in the asses to write, but I am satisfied with the result and I congratulate all of the people who helped me make this possible. Mimi Dubois, my Beta Reader VelocityGirl1980, SSLE who in the first chapters helped me, Pebbles89 who gave me a great idea for previous chapter ;) and BoleynofAragon21, Dudeinthebox, CourtsofLove who have been attentive as well, thanks everyone.

I do not know if I will do an epilogue or not, depends on the response I get, so review!

Why the song? I have always seen Abraham and the sacrifice he did to prove his loyalty to God, as a parallel to the Tudors. They were all meat for canon, even Edward VI, Henry while not using his daughters for political alliances, toyed with them, especially Mary to keep both factions safe and often would parade her in his Nothern Progress so the people would be on his side. His affection towards Bess often shows that too since he was a aware that later in life these sisters would be divided by three factions, the ultra radicals favoring his son, the moderates favoring Bess and the conservatives favoring Mary. Abraham's daughter if you got it right, is not necessarily a woman, gets a cookie!

~VXLP