AN: Charles Brandon/Anne Boleyn to the beautiful song Behind Blue Eyes, originally by the Who, though covered by Limp Bizkit, which I don't own, sadly...I don't own the characters either, they're history's...though I'm having fun playing around with their backstories!

Charles Brandon stormed down the corridor to the Queen's apartments. Barely bothering to knock, much less bow to her, he met her eye fearlessly as she gasped and demanded to know what he was doing treating her with so little formality. He unrolled the parchment he was carrying and thrust it beneath her nose.

"This, Madam, is the warrant for your arrest. You are charged with committing adultery with Mark Smeaton, Sir Henry Norris and William are also charged with committing incest with your brother, Lord Rochford Both Smeaton and Brereton have already confessed their guilt. I, along with these guards, have come at the King's command to conduct you to the Tower, there to abide during His Majesty's pleasure. "

His voice was hard, unforgiving. It was even harder than it needed to be. But, no, it wasn't. It needed to be this hard. It needed to be this hard, just in case. Just in case his voice failed him and someone guessed. Even after all this time, even the merest whisper of suspicion could be enough to get him banished from Court at the very least.

He heard Anne's ladies gasp. In fact, one of them started crying softly. Her cousin Madge Shelton probably.

But Anne herself was calm, "Very well, My Lord Suffolk. If that is His Majesty's pleasure. I shall do as you say. I choose Mistress Wyatt and Mistress Shelton to attend me in the Tower," she answered, drawing herself up, "If you could just wait outside whilst we prepare, please?"

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man
To be the sad man
Behind blue eyes
And no one knows
What it's like to be hated
To be fated to telling only lies

He caught her eye briefly as he nodded. There, just where he had expected to find it, was the turmoil that was missing from her voice. Her eyes – her beautiful dark blue eyes – were aching with pain, disbelief and sorrow. The same pain that was reflected in his own. Oh, curse Henry for ever making him do this! Curse him for falling for that milksop of a girl, Jane Seymour! Curse him for losing patience with Anne, his true sweetheart, in this all-consuming quest for an heir. Curse him for falling for Anne in the first place!

But no. He couldn't do that. He couldn't condemn his best friend for doing exactly what he had done in the first place.

"Anna…"

He couldn't let her go. He couldn't let her go without saying it. She nodded.

"Come with me, Lord Suffolk. The rest of you, pack my things, please. Gentlemen," she gestured to the guards, "Outside, please."

So strong was her resolve, her new-found queenly dignity, that none of them even thought of questioning her orders.

That same dignity deserted her as soon as she and Charles were alone, however.

"How could you? How could you, Charles? How could you not even try?" She screamed, looking as though she wanted to fly at his throat and tear it out. He held up his hands in a futile attempt at self-defence.

"Anne…please…"

"No! You know it's not true! You know it! You know I never betrayed His Majesty like that! Not with them! Not with them!"

But my dreams they aren't as empty
As my conscience seems to be
I have hours, only lonely
My love is vengeance
That's never free

No one knows what it's like
To feel these feelings
Like I do, and I blame you!
No one bites back as hard
On their anger
None of my pain and woe
Can show through

"Not with them!" The words hung in the air between them, goading him. Suddenly, he was bellowing too; bellowing at her, releasing all of the stress and tension of the last few weeks on to her gorgeous ebony head.

"Do you think this is easy for me, Anna-Maria? Do you think I'm enjoying this? Because let me tell you one thing – it damn well is not! It damn well is not!"

"Incest? You couldn't even fight the incest charge for me? You're the Duke of Suffolk, for God's sake! You're Henry's closest friend!" Anne cried, as if she hadn't even heard him. He, in his turn, ignored her words, continuing, "You know full well why I couldn't! If I had, Henry would have wondered why! He might have decided to investigate my relationship with you! Mine, Anne! Mine! Then we really would have been in trouble, wouldn't we? Wouldn't we…my own little -"

"Don't you dare call me that! Don't you dare, Charles Brandon!"

She cut him off with a screech of hatred, flying at him, thrashing, kicking and punching. He caught her on reflex, caught her and crushed her against him in what had to be their hardest embrace yet.

"All right! All right! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean it! You know I didn't mean it!"

"I know, I know. I'm just…I'm just so scared, Charles. What's going to happen? To me, to Elizabeth? To my little Lisabelle? Once I'm gone?"

"Hush. Hush, Anna. Anna. It's going to be all right. I promise."

"No, it's not, Charles. It's not. Don't pretend it will be. Adultery in a Queen is treason. High treason. If Henry's accusing me of that, then he wants me dead. He wants me dead! God knows what he's going to do to Lisabelle once I'm gone. God knows. And she'll never know me. She'll never know me to remember me. Henry will never let anyone mention my name; she'll never know me. She'll never know me! My own daughter! My own daughter!"

Anne burst into tears and Charles did the only thing he could do. He took off her hood and stroked her raven hair soothingly; stroked it as tenderly as only he or her brother George could.

"She'll know you, Anna," he vowed. "She'll know you. Henry may not want to tell her of you, but I will. I'll take care of Lisabelle. Henry won't be able to hurt her without getting past me first, and we're still close enough friends that he won't try. I'll take care of Lisabelle and I'll tell her of you. I'll tell her of her mother; of her mother Queen Anne Boleyn. Of her mother, the bravest and most beautiful Queen England has ever known."

At his words, Anne sniffed and looked up at him with a watery smile.

"You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would. I'd do anything for you. I'd do anything for you, Your Majesty," Charles promised, before leaning in to trap her lips with his in one last passionate stolen kiss. Despite herself, she gave in to him, yielded to his advances and responded hungrily. She was saying farewell; saying farewell in a way that words never could.

No one knows what it's like
To be mistreated, to be defeated
Behind blue eyes
No one knows how to say
That they're sorry and don't worry
I'm not telling lies

No one knows what it's like
To be the bad man, to be the sad man
Behind blue eyes.