Never Let Me Go Chapter 20, a tudors fanfic

I've seen the world
Done it all, had my cake now
Diamonds, brilliant, and Bel-Air now
Hot summer nights mid July
When you and I were forever wild
The crazy days, the city lights
The way you'd play with me like a child

I've seen the world, lit it up as my stage now
Channeling angels in, the new age now
Hot summer days, rock and roll
The way you'd play for me at your show
And all the ways I got to know
Your pretty face and electric soul

Dear Lord, when I get to heaven
Please let me bring my man
When he comes tell me that you'll let him in
Father tell me if you can

All that grace, all that body
All that face makes me wanna party
He's my sun, he makes me shine like diamonds

Will you still love me when I'm no longer young and beautiful
Will you still love me when I got nothing but my aching soul
I know you will, I know you will
I know that you will
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful
Will you still love me when I'm no longer beautiful
Will you still love me when I'm not young and beautiful?

Young and Beautiful by Lana Del Rey

May 15th, 1536

Mary Tudor was seated in the second row in the Tower of London as Anne Boleyn's uncle, the duke of Norfolk read out Anne Boleyn's charges.

"Because thou has offended our sovereign the King's grace in committing treason against his person and here attainted of the same, the law of the realm is this, thou hast deserved death, and thy judgement is this: that thou shalt be burned here within the Tower of London, on the Green, else to have thy head smitten off, as the King's pleasure shall be further known of the same."

Mary took one look at Anne Boleyn. Her glamorous domineer was gone and in its place was a pale, fearsome lady that had all her hopes and dreams snatched away from her within seconds. Her mother had been in her place, and she had been in Elizabeth's. But Anne Boleyn, the woman who've somewhat reaped for her mistakes had a much more difficult fate lying her path. Anne Boleyn eyed Mary. Mary couldn't understand what the look meant. Was it a plead for help? Was it a plead for forgiveness?

Either way Anne made her feel an emotion; nobody else in court was feeling; an emotion that she had the least reasons for feeling. She didn't deserve to be executed. No matter how bad she could get, she would never risk her daughter's claim to the throne for a few nights of enjoyment. Something in her gut told her that she certainly wasn't a witch as everyone believed. She was nothing but an overconfident, ambitious woman that wanted to rise and rule the world created for men. She was just a mother that wanted her daughter to have all she had dreamed of. She was selfish; yet not selfish enough to be evil.

Mary thought of her father, the same King who was now sitting up on his throne, selfishly watching the scene unfold before him. He was the same King who had claimed to love both women, the first one whom he had sickened to death, the second one whom he's about to coldheartedly murder after poisoning her name. Now he is about to leave another daughter without any parental love.

Anne Boleyn had never been this humiliated in her life. The way the King looked at her with so much hatred sickened her. Her uncle, Lord Steward was up there condemning his very own niece who it was him who had led her to the gallows of death. It was him along with her father that had convinced her to catch the king's eye. It was funny how everything played out. If she had drunken a glass of wine, she'd burst out with laughter at the irony. It's the wittiest out of the whole bunch that had at last, turned out to be the most foolish.

Anne Boleyn thought of Elizabeth. She would end up just like Mary Tudor if not worse. She would be declared a bastard. She doubted whether Henry would even consider her his own kin. All her luxuries and servants would be given to Jane Seymour's children and she would be all alone. Then Anne looked at both Marys. There was Mary Tudor of whom she had been witness to her love for her little Elizabeth. And then there was Mary Boleyn, whom no matter how many men she had bedded, she was clean-hearted as an innocent soul. If she hadn't been born to her family, she would've been an honourable woman. She hoped that both women would be kind enough to look after her Elizabeth after she was gone despite the wrongs she had done to both women.

She eyed Mary Tudor. The poor soul had fell from her father's grace, had been declared a bastard and turned into a servant, and had been deprived the right to see her mother before she passed away all at such a young age; all because of her. If there was any person she owed, it was her and the late queen Katherine. Maybe she wasn't dying because she hadn't given the king an heir. Perhaps she was dying to pay for her deeds. The school teachers always used to warn her you reap what you sow. Perhaps they really were telling the truth.

"So the Boleyn whores. Two former ladies of mine. What did I do to upset you that you should run against me like this?"

"You failed to give England an heir."

"And that upsets you so?"

"What upsets the King upsets me."

Her life turned out to be an irony. It was no wonder that she had failed to give the King a son. She had upright mocked the former queen of her lacking. If there was a "god," he would be laughing at her. "Katherine of Arogan had died with honour but Anne Boleyn shall die with the utmost disgrace," he would say. Then Anne realized that the same god might have given her another chance.

"Lord Stewerd," Mary stood up. Everyone gasped as they watched her speak. Mary looked around her. She was nervous but it was time that she'd break free from this mess. And she would not do it without making an impression.

"Mary, what are you doing?"

Mary went to the front where everyone could see her and where she could face her father.

"I am sorry father, but I will not stay here and watch while you put an innocent woman to death. As much as I detest her for ruining our family, you and I both know that she is innocent of the charges that Cromwell and the others have accused her of. If you go through with this, just like me, Elizabeth will lose a mother and of course you will continue and marry another one of your mistresses while she suffers as bad a fate as me at such a young age. As much as I wanted to return to court in the hopes of reclaiming my position as the rightful heir and my position in your heart, I no longer want it."

"Mary, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

"Your majesty, I no longer want to live this way. You wanted to get rid of me? You declared me a bastard? That's alright because as a daughter, I break all ties from you. You no longer have to worry about me. I will no longer interfere in anything you do. And if you decide to execute me because of that, you may because I have nothing else to lose. But you, your majesty would forever be known as the king that killed his daughter."

Everyone gasped and whispered but that didn't stop Mary. With a smirk on her face, she walked out of the tower of London.

As she walked outside, she saw familiar faces.

"Rose, Abraham, what are you doing here?"

"We heard of the Queen's trial and we thought we'd come to pay you a visit after it was all over but what are you doing out so soon?" said Rose.

Rose looked as beautiful as ever. Her olive skin was glowing and her long brown hair was up in a bun. However, Mary did notice how plump her face had gotten but it didn't even slightly change how beautiful she was.

"I left. I broke all ties with the King and I stormed out. I couldn't bear to watch my father put an innocent woman to death in order to satisfy his own wishes. I know the only reason he wants to put her to death is because he wants to marry his new conquest, the Lady Jane Seymour"

Rose embraced Mary. "Relax Mary, everything's going to be alright. Just come home with us."

"We have something to tell you," said Abraham.

"What is it?"

"Rose is with child."

If the rest of the day's events poisoned her mood, it was this incident that brightened it.

Mary held both of Rose's hands. "You're with child? That really calls for a celebration."

Mary smiled. "I'm going to be an Aunt."

Henry came outside just in time to witness the entire scene.

Rose and Abraham curtsied.

Mary turned around and simply sternly glimpsed at her father.

"Let's go home," she said.

A tear welled up from the corner of Henry's eye. He wanted to stop her but he lacked courage. He didn't have the courage to order his guards to arrest her. When he hadn't seen her for several years, it was much easier to order her execution but now the hidden love of a Father overpowered. He didn't have the courage of neither facing her nor himself. His mistakes would go dismissed once again. But for the first time, his eldest daughter broke the barrier that erupted a load of emotions; emotions that he was fighting to withheld.

Henry Tudor made his way back to the Tower of London.

"Release her. No execution will happen. Anne, I want you to take your things out of court. As of now, you are vanished from court. You will never return."

April, 13th, 1536

Mary Tudor groomed the strands of her long chestnut hair. It was supposed to be the most beautiful day of her life. She held the locket in her palm and clenched on to it. She didn't know whether her mother would be proud of her but the reflection staring back at her seemed to be in peace.

She knew she was beautiful. She was never told so during her adolescence but some truths don't have to be told to be. Some truths just are. But there was something different about today. It was as if she was living a dream. Her rich white gown fit perfectly. It was a delicate bodice embellished with a ruffled collar. The large puffed sleeves had delicate ribbons woven that assembled them to ruffles, enveloping her arms. The gown fell swiftly to the floor as it would soon mark her delicate steps as she walked down the aisle.

She opened the locket to expose a picture of her mother; she kissed it and put it on the cabinet. She whispered a prayer, took a deep breath and she knew she was all set.

"And Henry let her go?"

"Yes your Majesty. And now she's all set to marry a commoner. She claims to be in love with him."

"What a foolish girl? Everything Aunt Katherine had fought for has all gone to waste."

The Emperor was thinking of whether he should send people to stop the wedding from taking place if it already didn't happen. When Henry was too busy, bedding mistress after mistress, it was him who had to stop his beloved aunt's daughter from making the biggest mistake of her life. She was a Princess, the rightful heir of the English throne. She was his cousin.

Since her own father wasn't present, it was Abraham's hand that she held as she walked down the aisle. Her gown swept swiftly, she looked intently at John waiting, and though she was nervous and questioned herself several of times, when she glimpsed at John all dressed up in the finest hose and doublets, looking as handsome as he ever did, all her doubts faded. She looked around. There weren't many people. This wasn't a royal wedding and her father that was supposed to be taking Abraham's place on this fine day had no idea that she was getting married.

What would he do if he were to find out that she was getting married? She didn't know. Would she take the chance if it meant that the outcome would mean her happiness? She would for it's been too long since she felt this alive. She felt whole again. Now she knew that she wouldn't be able to live without him even if she tried.

Mary stood face to face with John. He smirked at her. She smiled back. Everyone watched. There weren't many people, just a couple of John's friends and a couple of Rose and Abraham's friends. It was simply a small, intimate wedding. But it was perfect.

The priest was rambling on. It all went in one ear and came out the other. She was thinking of what would happen afterwards. She wondered what consummating a marriage was like. She was ready to give John her full self and she was more than happy to do so but the butterflies in her stomach were killing her. Her feelings were of something at the midst of fear and excitement. She felt fear rush through her spine at the thought of submitting to a man. She felt fear when she thought of all the things she had heard about this sacred act between a man and his wife. But when she looked into his dark hazel eyes, the lust and excitement that she felt was simply incomparable to anything else.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride."

Both of their eyes met and their lips locked instantly as if they had been starved from each other for months. The kiss was soft but passionate. His lips probed into her mouth. Their lips stayed intertwined for a second too long but Mary was the first to back away.

Henry took it upon himself to take the day off. He was tired of the court's politics. He was tired of the problems that had risen now that Anne Boleyn was free. Would he be able to annul his marriage with Anne Boleyn? When was he going to marry Jane Seymour?

He lay on his King-sized bed, made sure he had two pillows below his head and one on his side on which he could rest his arm on and he prepared himself for his afternoon nap. He closed his eyes, let the day's worries drift away and waited until he could hear nothing and see nothing but the darkness of the back of his eyes.

He fell fast asleep. But when he woke up, his peacefulness ceased and in front of him lay Katherine. It wasn't Katherine Howard, nor was it Katherine Tudor, his sister. The woman was extraordinarily beautiful with raven black hair descending down to the midst of her abdominal, eyes as blue as the morning skies, and skin as velvety as spring blossoms.

"Hello Henry"

"Katherine," Henry yelled.

"What are you doing here?"

"Relax, Henry. I'm here to guide you to the light."

Her voice was as soft as melodies. She was the most heavenly creature, Henry had ever seen.

"Take my hand Henry and stand up."

Henry did as he was told.

Suddenly, Henry's entire bedroom disappeared. In its place was court. Henry was young again. Young Mary as he clearly remembered ran to Henry. Henry watched himself pick her up and kiss her on her cheek.

"Aren't you beautiful? Aren't you the most beautiful girl in the world?"

"I don't know."

"Yes you are. How do you feel?"

"Well."

"Why are you showing me this? What is the meaning of this? Take me back this once!"

Katherine spent no time to wait and listen. She took Henry's hand once again and took him away.

This time they were at a house. They were in a room with just a simple bed and a closet on the side. It was dusty and on top of the bed was a necklace. The necklace had a locket with Katherine's photo on it. They were at Hatfield.

Mary was present and so was Sir Francis Bryan. She grabbed the documents from him, took one look, and instantly her eyes were watery. Henry couldn't hear much but he sure heard the important parts.

"Forgive me, but I will not risk my immortal self for the favour of an earthly king."

"Would he really do that?"

He tried to hear some more, but their voices were echoing. He went closer to them but no matter how close he went, another force only took them further and further away.

Sir Francis Bryan went closer. He moved her hair and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Henry went a little bit closer.

"Mary," he screamed.

"Please, why are you doing this? Why are you treating me like this?"

"Listen to me, Mary. If you were my daughter, I would smash your head against the wall 'till it is soft as a boiled apple. You understand?"

What looked like a stern look, he smacked her to the ground. His Mary, the sweet little girl that he spoiled was battered by a petty courtier. That's what the little girl's life had turned into. It was his fault that she sought out for love from a simple commoner.

"What are you staring at, what you've let happen to your own kin? Is that it Henry?"

"What do you want Katherine?"

"I just want my sweet Mary to be happy. I don't want her to turn old and rotten like her Father. It's actually my fault, Henry, I shouldn't have gave her hopes and dreams of becoming a queen. I should've known better when you sent your own daughter to Hatfield to wait on your mistress's child. At least that way I could've spent my last living moments with her. But I don't think a daughter had ever made her mother so proud. She didn't depend on you, her only living kin, for her happiness. She went out and looked for it herself. Come with me."

In just a second, the atmosphere of Hatfield vanished and they were at an ocean side. It was absolutely stunning. The birds were chirping amidst the setting sun which was at the midst of exploding colours of red, pink and yellow. It was a magnificent view. The breeze tickled Henry's face as he realized the true beauty of his surroundings. Out of a carriage arrived a beautiful girl. His girl.

She was in a long, white dress, his girl who was the utmost reflection of himself and the woman standing next to him. She was in a wedding gown. As John escorted her out of the carriage, her face gleamed as she saw a little girl with golden locks waiting in front of a tiny cottage with an elderly woman. Immediately, the little girl with soft golden locks and light blue eyes ran to Mary.

Mary picked her up. "Momma" was what she said. Mary gave the little girl a warm smile in return and kissed her flushed cheeks.

"Can I call you that Princess Mary?"

"Of course you may, sweetheart."

The little girl giggled. Right behind Mary, John hugged them both.

"Do you not see the irony, Henry?"

Henry glanced at Katherine.

"Whatever so do you mean, Katherine?"

"How amazing is it that an innocent girl and boy that just reached their youth can parent a child that, that too a little girl, that is not theirs but a father can torment his own kin, and favour everyone else above her."

And upon hearing that statement, Henry wakes up; his eyes wide open as he tried to examine what he had just dreamt of? Had his daughter really married a commoner like John? Had he really been that much of a bad father?

Mary took off her robe. Her robe slid off leaving nothing but a beautiful, slender, nude woman with nipples firmly erect as she thought of what would happen the night awaiting her. She bathe herself in the finest lavenders. Tonight was the night. Tonight was the night she was going to finally give herself to a man.

She poured water over her body. She felt the water pour over her face. Her chestnut hair drenched. The luke warm water tickled her alabaster, ivory skin further driving such thoughts into her head. She hoped that her body, her scent, her whole being would not only please him, but drive him into full ecstasy.

She wrapped herself in a towel and rubbed the water off her porcelain skin. She swiped on her night gown and rubbed her hair with her towel and took one last look at her beautiful reflection as she entered her bedroom.

As she entered, she realized what a mess their room was. She sought to clean it up when suddenly John entered and grabbed her waist. Mary giggled. He kissed her neck.

He turned her around and passionately kissed her. Mary shoved him and giggled.

"The door, we wouldn't want to be heard, now would we?"

John went to the door and locked it and looked at Mary's direction. There she was in her sheer white night gown looking as irresistible as ever. Her wet chestnut hair fell down to her waist and her pupils dilated as she bit her lower lip. She looked exactly like a beautiful virgin about to give herself away. She was finally his. After all he went through; he finally did indeed catch his heart's desired prize.

"Are you nervous, Mary?"

Mary giggled as her cheeks flushed, "I am a little." John found it amusing how even at times like this she could put a façade on only to hide her unease.

John moved closer. His hand caressed her flushed cheeks as his hand went to put her hair behind her ear. Stricken with discomfort, Mary looked downwards. John touched her hair and while doing it his hands caressed the peek of her collar bone onto her plump breasts which lay under the fabrics of her nightgown. Mary quickly stiffened. Her heart was beating fast and she looked at John again with her wide, doe eyes.

John smirked. He found it absolutely amusing how the girl, the princess that was supposed to be the centre of England's loathsome court, daughter of the most promiscuous man could be so innocent. John attacked her lips and kissed her passionately. He did so with all of the desire that he felt for her. His hands moved on to untie her night gown. Hearts were beating fast and this was truly the first time, Mary would stand nude in front of a man. Her gown fell down immediately and John moved a step back to look at the prize he uncovered.

Her young breasts were perfectly perky, and her pink nipples were erect. They were big, not too big but big enough to mark her womanhood. Her skin was ivory and flawless all around. Her legs were beautiful and long, long enough to perfectly wrap around his torso.

As Mary quickly spotted John glimpsing at her, she immediately put her hands on her breasts. She realized how exposed she was. Even if it was John, her godly instincts came first. But she soon realized she married him. He was the love of her life and his wife. It was her job to please him. Other than her defensive instincts, she was feeling another very strong emotion. She felt her blood rush through her veins, her heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings and her passion for him intensified when she thought of what was going to occur the night to come.

John moved forward and took her hands away from her breasts. She looked up at him again and the innocent look on her face, her standing there nude at her utmost vulnerable state of being drove him crazy. She was made for him. She was made for a man with as sexual prowess as him. He then moved her hair away from her chest, grabbed her waist, held it tightly and kissed her tenderly. He slid his tongue into her mouth and their tongues intertwined in bliss. Mary closed her eyes and grabbed his hair. Unable to resist his desire for her, he shoved her to the bed. Her long hair fanned around her as she looked up at him in surprise.

John took off his hose and Mary's fingers aimed for his doublet. She started unbuttoning but her hands were clumsy. John chuckled and took the lead, unbuttoning his doublet himself while gazing at her with raw hunger in his hazel eyes. His manhood was out, large and erect. Mary fancied her view. His lean body, defined abdominals, and his throbbing veins above his manhood was enough to drive any woman mad with lust.

Mary reached out her hand, caressed his abdominals and made her way to his manhood.

John took her hand and kissed it. He found her curiosity amusing.

"You've never seen a man before have you, Mary?"

"Not like this" Mary was blushing again.

"And neither have I seen such a beautiful woman"

He could not restrain himself from her anymore. He grabbed her hands and pinned them on the bed and devoured her neck. Mary's eyes closed as she lost herself to sheer pleasure. He kissed her roughly, almost like a hungry dog that hadn't been fed in weeks. Mary moaned. She felt his manhood on her sex. She could feel herself get wet, something she never felt herself do before meeting John. He made his way down to her breasts, first slowing the pace that he was going at to observe them and touch them. He felt her young breasts, her nipples lingering against his strong hands. He caressed them, and swirled his thumb against her perky pink nipples in circles making Mary released a moan in delight.

He then put his mouth against her left breast. First he tickled her nipple with his tongue and then slowly sucked on them.

"J-J-John" moaned Mary.

The sound of his name never pleasured him as it did coming from Mary's mouth. As he sucked her succulent, plump breasts, he made his way to her sex. He urged her to open her smooth thighs and he slowly made soft circles against her clit. He then immediately stuck in a finger.

Her tight walls instantly fought back and Mary unable to resist, clutched onto his shoulder and screamed.

"John" she moaned. She kept moaning and he kept pulling his finger in and out. The combination of pain and pleasure was too much to resist that she left scratches on his back. He moved on to the other breast now. He sucked it softly and tenderly, his tongue slowly swirling circles around her hard, erect nipples.

Then he left kisses down her stomach, sucked every inch of her until he made his way down to just below her thighs. He pushed her thighs apart. She really was beautiful all over. Her thighs were creamy and smooth like a lily's petal. He kissed her thighs and made his way down to her clit, slowly moving his tongue back and forth.

Mary never felt this ecstatic. She was moaning, screaming his name, and her head yanked back and forth in pleasure. John amused at Mary's expressive nature, he continued, this time at a faster pace, moving his tongue up and down, and in circles against her clit.

When he stopped, Mary voiced her commend "Don't stop."

"Sweetheart, this is only the beginning."

He swiped out his manhood, spread her legs a little wider and entered her. Her tight walls were fighting against him. Mary's eyes were tearing up immediately. She screamed and her nails clutched on to his back. He grabbed her hands and fastened them to the bed and sweetly whispered to her "Relax." But his pace was too fast for her to handle.

Her hands were fighting to be released. He sucked her neck tenderly as her head tilted up in pain as he drove into her again. He felt her walls start to open up as he went up and down and finally, he broke her hymen. She released the biggest scream at that moment but as he continued, that pain was replaced with pleasure and she started thrusting her hips in a rhythmic motion in tune with his. Her pupils dilated and her head tilted up and down. Her nails dug into him.

"J-John, Ahh" she moaned. He pinned her hands on to the bed again. He was going in a steady pace. He looked at her as her chestnut hair fanned everywhere against the pillow moving in all directions as her head tilted up and down, in pain or pleasure, he couldn't tell.

"Mary, relax. I want to see you look at me."

Mary obeyed immediately. Her icy blue eyes matched his hazel ones but Mary with fascination saw his expressions change. He looked like he was in pain as he hissed and the vein on his forehead throbbed. His sexual tension was being released.

Pure ecstasy escaped from her lips as he had reached her peak. His seed was inside of her.

With him still inside of her, John rested his forehead on her breasts. They remained like this for a few minutes. He kissed her lips one last time and rolled off of her. Suddenly she no longer felt as complete.

He covered her aching bare body with a blanket and pulled her against him. Now she was resting on his chest. He whispered into her ears "I love you, Mary."

"I love you too, John" was what she said tenderly as she knew she meant every word in context to every single aspect. She knew that they were connected emotionally, spiritually, and now physically.

Mary closed her eyes and entered a deep peaceful sleep.

Hey everyone, I know I haven't updated in months. I realize that I probably lost a lot of my readers. Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this chapter. This was the first sex scene I've ever written so please enjoy. :) I know Henry's dream didn't quite go in tune to the ghost of Christmas past theme, but oh well, I hope you all enjoyed. Read, comment and stay tuned in for the next chapter. I will try and update more frequently.