A/N: Hi, GreenField! So my George/Elizabeth songfic yesterday inspired me to do one for this with Anne/Henry Percy. Plus I'm rediscovering my obsession with Phantom of the Opera, including the part where my heart melts everytime the Phantom sings. Sigh. Anyway, thanks for the reviews and please review!

Think of me, think of me fondly
When we've said goodbye
Remember me once in a while
Please promise me, you'll try

Anne looked between the Cardinal and her husband, trying to hide her confusion, mask the hurt in her eyes.

"What do you mean? We are married, Cardinal. Nothing can change it" she reached out for Harry's hand, but he moved it, only slightly, almost imperceptibly out of her reach. Anne's heart skipped a beat, her throat choked with fear.

"The marriage remains invalid. Henry is engaged to marry Mary Talbot, daughter of the Earl of Shrewsbury, at her earliest possible convenience. Therefore he was not available to make the decision to marry you" Wolsey sounded expressionless, as if he really didn't care that her heart was breaking right before his eyes. And perhaps he didn't.

"But married we are, your eminence, at our choosing" a flash of inspiration came to her, as they so often did, and she smiled triumphantly, "It was consummated too"

Harry's head jerked up, alarmed, "Anne – "

"Henry has neglected to tell me this" Wolsey frowned for a moment, but only a moment, "It has not been consummated"

"It has, Cardinal. I ought to know. I was there" she stuck out her chin, jutting it upwards, in a way that she always used to do when she was a child and wanted something badly. The gesture was not missed by Wolsey.

"Don't be stubborn, Mistress Anne. If Harry says it was not and you say that it was, people will just assume that you lay with another man"

"I - !" Anne was speechless, fuming at the insinuation, "No! Of course I didn't! Harry is my husband, I would never – "

"Henry is not your husband, Mistress Anne, and you would do best to forget the whole idea. Henry has promised to do so"

"Harry?" Anne hated how plaintive and forlorn her voice sounded, "Did you promise that?"

She saw the agony in his eyes for the first time as he reached out and gripped her hand, "Anne, I had to. I had to promise. I'm so sorry"

She swallowed tears, "If we both fought it they couldn't stop us, Harry, you know they couldn't – "

"I think you'll find that we could" Wolsey said coolly, "Say goodbye, Mistress Anne. Young Henry has to depart for Northumberland at once"

"You mean...you mean I never shall see you again?" Anne gulped, audibly now. She saw tears in Harry's eyes.

"I didn't want it to happen like this, Anne. I didn't want it to happen. I love you. I won't forget you"

This, his last goodbye. She jerked her hand free of him and glared up at him, hot tears now falling thick and fast over her pale face, "I hope you never forget me. I hope the memory of me haunts you every time you look at your new wife. I hope it kills you"

Harry looked stricken. He moved away from her, his own tears falling too, but hesitated in the doorway when her voice came to him, soft once again, and thick with sadness.

"Think of me" she whispered. He turned to look at her, heart heavy.

"I promise"

Then you'll find that once again you long
To take your heart back and be free
If you'll ever find a moment
Spare a thought for me

Looking back on that day, Anne's chest still felt tight and her heart still ached. She longed for Harry with every bone in her body, and little could be done to cure it. She could forget it, sometimes, if she really tried. She could forget it if she looked into the eyes of her husband the King and saw his love for her radiating from him. But when she was alone, her husband and her waiting women and her siblings and her child all taken from her, alone in her bed at night, she thought of him. She wondered if he thought of her. Maybe he no longer did – he could have fallen for this Mary Talbot and not thought of Anne at all. She had not seen him in years.

We never said our love was evergreen
Or as unchanging as the sea
But if you can still remember
Stop and think of me

She sometimes wished that she had told him how she felt. Of course, she had said that she loved him, but she hadn't said all the beautiful poetic things that sprung into her mind when they looked at each other. She recalled one day, when he had said to her;

"I shan't love anyone but you for the rest of my life, Anne. Know that".

She had smiled up at him in the sunshine, dappled green as they stood under leafy summer trees, and she had given him her heart. But she had not returned his sentiments. She wondered if that was why he had caved in so easily – because he wasn't sure that she loved him with the depth and passion of his love for her. But surely he remembered it, all those dances and smiles and that one precious, precious night in bed together after months of waiting? She remembered it, every detail. And God knew he had more time spare for remembering that she did.

Think of all the things
We've shared and seen
Don't think about the way
Things might have been

Their night together had been the first time for both of them, no matter what anyone else might say about her now. She was no whore, and never had been. That had been something she would never forget, and surely something that he could forget either? Nor could she forget their first kiss, the touch of his lips on hers beneath the stars, the sparks that fluttered up from her toes right to her head, making her giddy and warming her body the whole way through. Oh, how could she ever forget that! How could he! A life of kisses like those...nights like those...

But no. She was Queen now, she could not think about what might have been if she had been his Countess. Thoughts like that were dangerous for both of them.

Think of me, think of me waking
Silent and resigned
Imagine me trying too hard
To put you from my mind

She pulled the sheets closer to her, bathing in their warmth even though the night was a hot and sticky one. She laid her hand on her belly, feeling for the child that would either be her saviour or bring her downfall. How different things would have been if this child and, indeed, Elizabeth, had been Harry's children. He would not have cared to prefer a son or daughter, she knew. He had been perfect for her. And if this birth went wrong like the last...he would not rage and rave at her. He would hold her while she wept and tell her that it mattered not.

Stop thinking about him!

She told herself this over and over, but more memories assailed her and she couldn't quite rid herself of them.

Recall those days, look back on all those times
Think of those things we'll never do
There will never be a day
When I won't think of you

Giving in, she rose from the bed and moved to the window, looking out on a starry night. She closed her eyes, imagining that she could see all the way to Northumberland, into Harry's bedchamber, where he lay wide awake and thinking of her as she was of him. She gave a little start at the sound of a rumble of thunder outside and noticed that dark clouds were scurrying across the moon, bringing rain with them. She jerked the casement window shut, breathing heavily.

It was a sign. She had told him to think of her, but she must not think of him. She would bring him danger if she did. She would bring them both danger if she did.

A sharp, sudden pain rose in her belly. She clutched at the bump feebly, knowing what was coming, knowing what the pain would bring.

Oh, Harry. Why couldn't it have been you?

Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade
They have their seasons, so do we
But please promise me that sometimes
You will think of me