The past time so familiar
But that's why you couldn't stay
Too many ghosts, too many haunted dreams
Besides, you were built to find your own way...

Elizabeth Blount, better known to the Court in general as Bessie, lay in bed beside His Majesty King Henry, remembering all the times he had come to her before. Well, not all of them. There were so many times that she couldn't count them all, but one or two stood out for her.

Her first time, as a sixteen year old virgin. He had been so kind, so gentle. He had held her in his arms when she trembled with fear at the thought of what was happening; what was going to happen. He had kissed her and soothed her in a whisper and held back his own desires until she was ready. She had truly loved him then.

And at times, she'd thought he'd loved her too. After the birth of her son, their son, little Henry Fitzroy, he had been so tender. He had spent hours in her lying-in chambers; holding Henry; watching her mother him, dreaming about the boy's future with her. He had even, once, in the heat of his desire for her, whispered "I wish you were my Queen. I wish we were another Henry and Elizabeth, darling. I wish Harry could be my Prince, now and forever."

She hadn't known how to respond to that, so she had just murmured something along the lines of "I'm sure he'll be worthy of any honour you choose for him, Henry. How could he not be? He is your son." and watched as the King's eyes lit up. Watched his lips form the words "My Son. My son. I have a son." Watched as he leaned down to kiss her passionately, whispering "God Bless You, Elizabeth Blount" as their lips met.

But after all these years, I thought we'd still hold on
But when I reach for you and search your eyes
I see you've already gone...

But that was years ago. Little Harry was almost three now; he would be turning three in June and, while his father still called for her; still took her to his bed, the pleasure had gone. He no longer caressed her and talked to her as he used to. Now, when he called for her, more often than not, he was drunk; drunk and desperate for a vessel to void his seed into. That was all Bessie was to him now. A vessel; an old source of pleasure only to be used when there was no other available. She wasn't a woman. She wasn't Elizabeth. And she certainly wasn't his beautiful Bessie, the way she had once been.

Sighing, Bessie turned into the dozing King's side and trailed her hand over his cheek. She liked it best when he was like this. When he was spent with exhaustion; too exhausted even to order her out of his bed. Then she could drift off into a daydream; pretend he still loved her the way he used to.

All of a sudden, he stirred at her touch. Alarmed, Bessie drew back, preparing to leap from the bed, in case he was angry with her for having presumed to stay with him. It wouldn't be the first time.

But then he caught her hand; drew her back to him. He leaned in close, as if he was about to kiss her. Bessie held her breath. Did he in fact still desire her? After all this time?

No. "I've arranged for you to be married, Bessie. You'll marry Sir Gilbert Tailboys, Baron Tailboys before the summer progress begins."

That's OK
I'll be fine
I've got myself, I'll heal in time
But when you leave just remember what we had...

He said it so finally, so coldly, that she knew there was no point in arguing with him. She just nodded, unable to speak. Eventually managing to pull herself together, she merely answered "As you wish, Your Majesty."

Sliding out of his hold, she rose from the bed and reached silently for her gown, pulling it over her head and down in place over her chemise. She laced herself up blindly, carelessly, always knowing she was making a bad job of it, but not caring. She just wanted to get out of there; out of his room, before she broke down entirely.

As if sensing her inner turmoil, Henry unwound the sheets from around himself and got up, coming across to her.

"I'm sorry, Bessie. But you know it's for the best. We could never have been together, love. Not really. You know that. Katherine and Mary make that impossible. And Sir Gilbert's a good man. He won't hurt you. I promise. I couldn't let my beautiful Bessie go to someone who'd hurt her now, could I?"

He placed his hand on her cheek and Bessie leaned into his touch, wishing more than anything that she could scream at him, rail at him, remind him of everything they'd been to one another.

She couldn't though. One just didn't do that to one's King. And that's why, instead of doing what she wanted to do, she merely turned her head in his hand so that her lips found his palm and kissed his hand. Kissed his skin one last time.

The moment over, she curtsied, lowering her head so that she could free herself from his light touch and went to the door. She glanced back one last time, hoping her eyes said everything that she herself couldn't.

There's more to life than just you
I may cry but I'll make it through
And I know that the sun will shine again
Though I may think of you now and then...

But Gilbert was kind enough, it was true. From the very first time he met her, he treated her kindly; never let her think that she was worthless, just because the King had thrown her aside. He courted her, quickly, it was true, for the King wanted them married by the beginning of the summer progress, but courted her nonetheless. Courted her as a lover might court his sweetheart. His chosen sweetheart; not the woman the King was forcing him to marry.

He even assured her that, should the King be kind enough to let her little Harry live with them, even after they married, he would treat him as he might his own children, even though he wasn't his own. Bessie felt a weight lift off her shoulders when he assured her of that and it was in that moment that she knew she could trust him. Knew that she could find it in her heart to love him. Knew for certain that she would be all right again. It might take time, but she would be all right someday.

Can't do a thing with ashes
But throw them to the wind...
Though this heart may be in pieces now
You know I'll build it up again and
I'll come back stronger than I ever did before
Just don't turn around when you walk out that door...

And when they married in the chapel royal at Greenwich, with the King and Queen in the front pew and Princess Mary beside them, her little Harry was the ringbearer. He was only three, but he managed surprisingly well. He melted almost all the hearts in the congregation.

His father, meanwhile, couldn't take his eyes off Bessie. But she knew she wasn't his anymore. She was Gilbert's wife now and Gilbert's wife she would stay. And when she turned, arm in arm with her new husband, lips still red from the kiss he had given her to seal their union, she knew the King knew it too.

He smiled at her and she smiled back; smiled a threefold smile – the smile of his beautiful Bessie, the one he had loved, the smile of the mother of a young child and the radiant smile of a contented new bride.

Her eyes, however, were flashing steel when she looked at him. They were telling him "You had me once, Henry. You had me once, but you tired of me. Now it's time to let me go. I might heal once from you discarding me, but I won't heal again. So let me go. Please. For Good."

And, because he knew it was the truth; because he knew he'd had her and hurt her; knew that Sir Gilbert was the right sort of man for her; that he, unlike Henry himself, wouldn't hurt Bessie, he nodded, just once and let her go. For good.

That's OK
I'll be fine
I've got myself, I'll heal in time
And even though our story's at the end
I still may think of you now and then...