Disclaimer: I own nothing, but my OCs. All rights go to Showtime, the creator of The Tudors.

A/N: Hello everyone! Another chapter for your pleasure. As always I recommend Chained by War and Love by Athenais Penelope Clemence. And if I am missing any responses to reviews, please let me know! I want everyone to receive a reply since I value your reviews very much!

Ch. 6

There is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. Omitted, all the voyage of their life is bound in shallows and in miseries. On such a full sea are we now afloat. And we must take the current when it serves or lose our ventures.

~William Shakespeare

Gloucester Castle 5 September 1536

Ambassador Chapuys had taken the time to excuse himself from court to visit Grace in Gloucester, Mary in tow as she had been visiting the royal couple at court. Chapuys had kindly offered to be her escort along with the guards and servants that the king had assigned to his eldest daughter. And though the ride to Gloucester had been pleasant enough, Chapuys knew there was tension between the new queen and Mary, that the king's daughter needed to speak to Grace about. It was blatantly obvious that Mary carried an intense dislike for Jane because of her disrespect towards the Lady Elizabeth.

Chapuys no longer called her the concubine's bastard, realizing the fault of his ways. He had judged the previous queen too much, his hatred sliding down the line to an innocent child who posed no threat. Mary had formed an unexpected bond with Anne even if she had replaced her mother. It was partially Anne's doing, mostly the king's, but at the end of the day, her mother had been stubborn and lost her life having been separated from her daughter. If she had only conceded to the king's proposals, none of this would have happened. Perhaps her mother still would have been alive. But that was merely changing history, and no one could change the past.

Walking in the gardens, the trio maneuvered around the gardeners Grace had hired to update the gardens. House life suited her as she flourished more in the country than she did at court. Chapuys instantly noticed she was entirely at ease, a beaming smile on her face that came with the early stages of pregnancy. She had informed him and Mary on their arrival a few days earlier, both expressing their joy at the news. However, one thought lingered in the back of Chapuys mind that always did. How would the king react?

"His majesty has been quite persistent in the reformation of the monasteries. Cromwell will not desist from his efforts," Chapuys revealed. Grace scoffed, shaking her head at Cromwell's actions.

"They will be met with much opposition. The north will not stand for Cromwell's corruption of power. Just because he is the Lord Privy Seal does not mean there are no consequences," Grace said. She could not believe that Cromwell would not send representatives to the north to address the people's grievances, especially when the threat of rebellion lingered in the air.

"The north are known for their loyalty to his Holiness," Mary added, the three rounding a corner in the gardens. "Many of them supported my mother as well when his majesty was married to Anne. Now it seems they have considered her efforts to help them. She proposed that the religious houses be converted to recreational uses and that the houses with good reports would remain open."

"Cromwell wants to eliminate all of the religious houses, regardless of the reports. He only cares for money. Despite the claims that he is placing all the money in the king's treasury, he is also filling his pockets as well," Grace replied scornfully.

"The emperor is most displeased. He seeks an alliance with the king but hesitates because of this reformation. The Pope will not wait much longer until he excommunicates him. I have seen Cromwell three times and each time he has failed to answer my question about a new league," Chapuys revealed. Grace's forehead scrunched up. Cromwell was stalling deliberately. "He has alluded to me that the Emperor should promise not to let anything be done against the king, as if that is possible," Chapuys finished with annoyance.

"Just because both monarchs wish for peace does not mean the Emperor will abide to Cromwell's requests," Mary spoke.

"They sound more like orders to me," Grace retorted. "Can you imagine Cromwell thinking he can speak such a way because he is now Lord Privy Seal? It's a disgrace."

"That is not all I have heard. As you know, the Dauphin has died. Cromwell told my man that the French ambassador had assured the king that an Italian had ordered the murder, and that the king and his two other children were to be targeted as well. It was a warning for his majesty I believe," Chapuys explained.

"Poison? Would people be so bold as to poison royalty? How could that even happen? They are always tasters, but now that the Dauphin has died…" Grace trailed off. "Are they sure it was poison? The Dauphin was weak when he returned from imprisonment in Spain. It could have been consumption as it was with Henry Fitzroy."

Chapuys sighed deeply, shaking his head. The world "Alas my lady, the Dauphin's secretary admitted to poisoning his master. And Fitzroy had showed signs of his illness months before. No one is safe. And with the opposition in the north, the king may be in more danger than he thinks."

Valence, Drome, France 11 September 1536

Despite the loss of the Dauphin and his late wife Eleanor of Austria, the Emperor saw no need to halt the war between Spain and France. With the death of Francesco Sforza, Duke of Milan, Charles' son Phillip inherited the Duchy of Milan as Sforza had no children. Though the only connection to Milan was that Charles' niece Christina had married Sforza, neither the Italian states nor the people had protested when he took over the duchy. However, with the power shift in Italy, Francois had decided to invade Italy because of the economic importance of Milan. After all, he had a claim to Milan through his ancestor Valentina Visconti, daughter of Gian Galeazzo Visconti. With France capturing Turin and Savoy, Charles led his own troops to Provence while the Count of Nassau was to invade Picardy.

Having last wrote Chapuys from Ferjeux, the Emperor had arrived a mile from Aix-en-Provence towards Avignon where they would set up camp until victuals were gathered. Meanwhile, Francois was in Valence studying plans to fortify the city. French troops had arrived in Genoa weeks earlier to discover that the city had been reinforced, moving on to Piedmont to capture several towns there. Yet, with the impending threat of the Spanish forces, Francois saw little reason to celebrate.

"Damn those Spaniards!" Francois exclaimed, slamming his hand down on the table as his generals and advisors crowded around him. Anne de Montmorency, governor of Languedoc and lieutenant general, and Phillippe de Chabot, Admiral of France, shared a look of frustration. Even with the Franco-Ottoman alliance, Charles seemed to have a knack for being one step ahead of France. George Boleyn remained in the background, listening but not speaking. He had traveled with the king to Valence, Francois relying on him much to the dismay of many French courtiers. He would let the leaders make their move before he spoke.

"Majesty, we most focus on the fortification of Marseilles. If we do so, we may be able to trap the Spanish forces between ours and the Ottoman's," Chabot relayed.

"And if we don't, we will be further plagued by the imperial forces. Will I have to surrender again to that Spanish scum?" Francois mused. He could only imagine the humiliation at being captured once again after he was taken hostage during the Battle of Pavia in 1525 and submitted to prison in Madrid.

"Majesty, perhaps you could place all your focus on Marseilles. The Rhone is heavily guarded and with all of your troops backing a blockade, it would force the Emperor to retreat," George spoke.

Francois lifted his head up from the plans, contemplating the idea with a thoughtful look on his face. "Montmorency, Abbot…Perhaps Boleyn is right. Let's see to it that all of our forces are concentrated in Marseilles."

"Yes, majesty. We will handle everything." The admiral and lieutenant general of France both launched into action, concocting an ingenious plan that would put the emperor and his lackies on the run. With 60,000 footmen, 20,000 Swiss guard, 10,000 Gascons, 1,500 light horse, and 12,000 heavily armed infantry, the King of France was sure to have a victory.

Grafton Manor 12 September 1536

The king and Cromwell were in the king's study again, privately discussing matters of diplomacy involving the ongoing conflict between the French and the Imperial forces. Henry was beyond negotiation, each king laying out reasons for why Henry should join either of them in their quest against the other. "The French ambassador has asked that I send a contribution of money to aid Francois in his war against the Emperor when I have clearly demonstrated neutrality between the two. Does he think I wish to start another conflict? If I granted his request it would appear I was against the Emperor. Just as Chapuys asked me before, I will not give the Emperor funds either."

Cromwell slid back in his chair, reading over papers that his majesty and himself only had access to. He personally favored a German alliance, caring neither for France nor Spain, but what he truly cared for was that the Lady Mary would not be legitimatized. He would prefer not having a Catholic as heir to the king. "Majesty, perhaps the ambassador said so as the king values you above all other princes just as the Emperor values you above King Francois."

"And he pushed for Mary's hand to the Duke of Angouleme while the Emperor has proposed a marriage to the Infante Luis of Portugal. They wish to fight over me for my support. I will grant it to neither. I have already considered Duke Frederic of Palatine for her hand, but I favor an Englishman more. I won't have my daughter separated from me just yet, Cromwell," the king revealed.

"The Emperor pushes for such a match, majesty, as the Turks are threatening an invasion of Christendom," Cromwell continued.

Henry shook his head. "Francois may be aligned with them, but he would never allow them to conquer us. It's merely an alliance to defeat Spain." He could not imagine Francois would continue with an Ottoman alliance after the war. It would be too risky if the barbarians would be allowed entry into Europe, even if it was to conquer the Emperor's domains.

Cromwell considered his next approach, his attention fully on the king as he spoke. "And as for the Lady Mary, she is not your legitimate daughter and your heirs will come from your union with Queen Jane, majesty. Perhaps it would be wise to marry her to one of your subjects."

A dark look appeared on the king's face, reflecting his disapproval of Cromwell's words. His knuckles cracked as his hands tightened over the arms of his chair. "Does it look like the Queen is pregnant, Cromwell? Everyone is doubting her, I doubt her. Chapuys is sure to have informed his master that the queen is barren. I'm starting to believe such a thing. My daughters are all I have. It may be time to consider them in the line of succession if the queen loses her use."

Cromwell could only nod at his master's declaration, but he was hiding his outrage at such a suggestion. Though his face was blank, his insides were burning with pure disgust at the thought of changing the line of succession. He would need to convince the king otherwise…or the queen would need to fall pregnant soon or his progress would take a step backwards.

Gloucester Castle 13 September 1536

Grace and Percy were discussing renovations in the study, Grace sitting comfortably in her husband's lap while he stroked her hair gently. A serene calm had come over the couple, being away from court the best thing that could have happened for them. However, Percy still had to contact the king in regard to his reformation.

"What's this?" Grace questioned, rifling through papers as a particular one had caught her eye. It was addressed to the king and she frowned at the document.

Percy raised his eyebrows, having hoped his wife would not spot the letter. He wanted to keep her out of business with the king as he only had to discuss necessary matters with him. "I've had to write the king concerning the monasteries of Hexham and Newminster. I wanted a say in who would receive the properties. I understand this is difficult for you to understand, but I am still responsible for safeguarding the king's money. And if I am not granted this request, it will appear I am out of favor with the king…which I'm sure I am but he won't admit that to me."

"I just don't know why you would hide this from me," Grace spoke, rising from her husband's lap suddenly and pinning him with a fierce glare. Percy leaned back in the chair, in disbelief that she was upset at him.

"I was protecting you, Grace. I know this is a sensitive matter for you. You don't need to be involved. I'm doing this for my sake, making sure the monasteries are in safe hands," Percy relayed.

"It doesn't matter if you were protecting me. It's about lying to me," Grace replied in an irritated tone.

Percy rubbed his face, pinching the bridge of his nose as he always did when he was frustrated. "I don't want to argue with you, Grace." He watched as Grace started to pace in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her dress slightly revealed the beginnings of a baby bump and his gaze softened at the sight. "If you prefer, I will tell you when I have to conduct business with the king."

"Yes, that's what I want," Grace spoke. "I want us to be honest with each other, Henry, and if you feel the need to hide this from me, how am I supposed to trust you."

Percy stood up from his chair, closing the space between him and his wife. He took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs gently over the top of her delicate hands. "I promise to tell you from now on. The last thing I want is for you to not trust me." He leaned forward, pressing a kiss to his forehead as he tried to end the tension between him and Grace. Unexpectedly, he started coughing, but when it didn't stop, Grace became immensely concerned.

"Henry, what's wrong?" Grace questioned, her hands now grasping Percy's arms tightly as she led him back to his chair. He reached for a handkerchief, holding the fabric up to his mouth as he muffled his coughs. The coughing died down, Percy leaning his head back on the chair while Grace stood in front of him clutching his face desperately between her hands.

"What's wrong?" Grace's eyes darted over her husband's face frantically, his hands bunching up as he hid the handkerchief from her.

"Nothing, nothing…" Percy drawled off, not daring to meet Grace's eye. "I'm fine. It was just a coughing fit."

"Henry…" Grace knelt before her husband, his eyes now bloodshot and his breathing heavy. "I know when you're lying to me." She reached for Percy's hands, cringing when she saw blood.

Percy couldn't lie to her any longer, shaking his head in defeat. "I'm sick, Grace." Grace felt tears prick the corner of her eyes, her eyes never wavering from the red stain on the handkerchief. "I have been for some time. And though my body has handled it for some time, its catching up to me."

"Then we'll send for physicians, see what there is to help you," Grace said urgently. She gently pushed a stray hair from his forehead, noticing the light layer of sweat that caked his forehead. "We'll do this together." Percy nodded, taking Grace's hand in his. He had denied it for the past few months, but his illness was no longer a secret. He had refrained from seeing a physician, something he regretted immensely as he stared into Grace's worried green orbs. Percy had a family now. He couldn't keep secrets and he needed his wife to trust him. He wouldn't lose Grace the same way the king had, he couldn't make the same mistake.

Wressle Castle 28 September 1536

"The abbey gates have been locked and barricaded. Hexham will not open its doors to the king's commissioners," Thomas Percy revealed as he entered his brother's study. Grace and Henry had returned to the Percy family home, Percy being able to rest during his time away from court. He would have to return around Christmas when all nobles paid their respects to the king. He would have much time to recover from his illness which was what Grace wanted.

"And why should this concern us?" Grace questioned, sending her brother in law a curious look. "It was bound to happen sooner or later. Cromwell cannot expect all the abbeys to go along with the suppression of the monasteries. Serves him right."

"If one abbey rises against the king, then many will follow," Henry voiced. "Hexham is the first to resist, another will do the same. A rebellion is in the making, Grace, and we would be unwise to ignore it."

"I agree brother, but if the rebellion were to appear on our doorstep, what would you do?" Thomas asked. He was reckless compared to his elder brother.

"We would have to turn them away. We must show that we are loyal to the crown," Percy stated, sending his brother a warning look.

"But if you agree with their qualms wouldn't you wish to speak to them, Henry?" Grace added. Percy's eyes softened at his wife's thoughts, but he shook his head.

"Anyone who rebels is a traitor to the crown. I will not stand for such behavior, Grace," Percy replied. Though he disliked the king, he would not risk his life or his family's because of morals. Grace could only nod her head at her husband's response, but like Thomas, she could not ignore the pang in her heart at his words. As the niece of Sir Thomas More, she would not stand by and tolerate the injustice towards the people. She would speak against Cromwell, even the king if it meant proving to Percy that speaking against the crown was the right thing to do.

Windsor Castle 2 October 1536

Percy was entirely wrong, the people of the north uniting against the king's suppression of the monasteries. St. James Church had been seized in Louth the previous day to protect the church from the king's commissioners. Led by Nicholas Melton, the rebels captured local officials and demanded that Archbishop Thomas Cranmer and Bishop Hugh Latimer be arrested for heresy. Lord John Hussey, Chief Butler of England and previous chamberlain to Princess Mary, attempted to stall the rebels' progress, but it was in vain. He refused to join the rebel's cause. The commons had also marched on town hall where they made the Bishop of Lincoln swear allegiance to their cause and the New Testament in English was burned. Meanwhile, the king's commissioners had escaped to London where they were to inform Cromwell of the rebellion against the king.

"My lord. My lord." Cromwell was disrupted from his work by the sound of urgent shouting filtering through his study, spotting two of the commissioners hastily coming towards him. He stepped in their direction, a look of concern etched across his usually smug face.

The commissioners bowed quickly to the kings Lord Privy Seal before beginning their tale. "My lord, we have come here in great haste to tell you a great part of the North, as well as parts of Lincolnshire have risen in sudden rebellion against his Majesty." Silence filled thro om, a look of disbelief crossing Cromwell's face before her urged the men to come further into his chambers.

"There are musters of the commons everywhere and beacons of rebellion burning all night across the hills. Just four days ago, while we were collecting taxes in Hexham, we were set upon by an angry mob. They captured one of the commissioners called Nicholas Bellow, pulled him down from his horse and beat him to death with their staves," the commissioner further explained. Cromwell was at a loss of words, not expiring such news from the north. He knew there would be tension with the northern subjects, but he could not fathom a rebellion forming because of the reformation.

The commissioner continued to describe the terror he had experienced though it was merely peasants preaching their woes. "Among the mob, my lords, we saw armed priests, urging on these rebellious knaves with cries of 'Kill them, kill them.' Then we heard that another man, William Leach, who was known to be in your service, Mr. Cromwell, had been hanged from a tree." Cromwell did not know if this was an exaggeration or a true recount of events, just that the crown was in danger. Richard Rich shared a look of discomfort with Cromwell, intensely uneasy at the news of rebels.

"And what do these rebels say that they want?" Cromwell questioned, his eyes dark as the commissioner refused to meet his eyes.

"So far as I can tell, they want to keep their holy days. They want the monasteries restored and their churches unmolested and no more taxes." Cromwell clenched his teeth, sighing deeply at their requests. He could not understand why these peasants wanted to return to the dark days where they were slaves to the yoke of the pope, but perhaps they did not see it that way.

The other commissioner stepped forwards, gulping nervously as he began to speak. "I heard it declared that if they prospered with their journey, they intended to kill you, my Lord Cromwell, four or five bishops, and Chancellor Rich as devisers of taking church goods and tearing down churches."

"Why do the local gentry not intervene and suppress these traitorous assemblies? Surely, they want to protect their lands and holdings." Rich asked.

"They try, but the rebels come back even greater. Some say, my Lord Cromwell, that not hundreds, but thousands are risen in rebellion, against the king's church reforms." A seed of doubt began to form in Cromwell's mind. He was not invincible just because he was the king's Lord Privy Seal and finally, his power was starting to dissolve before his eyes.

Wressle Castle

The commons had made their way to Wressle Castle, seeking support from the Earl of Northumberland whose family were known to be Catholic sympathizers. At the head of their group was Robert Aske, a grim expression on his face as he stood before the castle walls. The gates were shut to them, the men yelling in discontent at their rejection. It wasn't until what appeared to be a figure of a woman, escorted by several armed men, emerged from the castle that they were spoken to. "My, my, my. I would not think that such gentlemen would attempt to take a castle that shelters a pregnant woman." Grace had taken the first step to confront the rebels, bravely stepping out of the security of her home to address the men who wished for reparations of their grievances. Holding her stomach protectively, though it only showed the first signs of pregnancy, she sent Aske a reprimanding look that made him feel ashamed of the men's loud behavior.

"My lady, we mean you no harm. We only wish to speak to the Earl of Northumberland," Aske admitted, lowering his cap from his head in respect. Grace eyed him, though she was merely studying the man before her. She had heard of Robert Aske, an acquaintance of her husband, and though he led these so-called rebels, he was a man of faith and loyal to the king.

Grace lifted her head upwards, speaking with a dignified tone. "I am his wife. He is indisposed at the moment. You may speak to me."

Aske nodded, revealing his mission to her. "My lady, we are merely men of God setting out on a mission to inform his majesty of our grievances. We wish to speak to your husband about joining us."

"Mr. Aske, I know who you are just as I'm sure you know who I am," Grace stated, tired of the small talk.

"Yes, my lady. You are the Duchess of Gloucester and the newly made Countess of Northumberland. Your virtues have been spoken of far and wide, and the rumors of your sympathy to our cause if I may add," Aske returned. Grace slightly narrowed her eyes at the comment, but other than that, no emotion appeared on her face.

"If you want my sympathy, then I ask all your men to discard their weapons before the castle walls," Grace retorted in a commanding tone. Aske had the decency to look embarrassed. "If you wish for shelter, you shall receive it, but only if there are no weapons. Otherwise, your men can camp beyond the walls," Grace continued.

"We shall do as you ask, your grace." Aske nodded and bowed to Grace, hoping her husband was as sympathetic as she.

"Then you Mr. Aske shall accompany me to my husband's study along with the other leaders of your cause." Grace pointed her head towards Sir Robert Constable and Sir Ralph Ellerker who both lowered their heads in submission. She turned on her heel, the guards only allowing the three leaders to follow their mistress while they supervised the discarding of weapons. Only the leaders of the rebellion would be housed inside the castle while the men would have to reside on the estate grounds in makeshift tents.

Aske and Constable followed Grace hesitantly into Wressle Castle, staring nervously at the duchess as she led them into her husband's study. She entered with no reluctance, Percy and his brother Thomas apparently waiting for Grace and the men. Percy had been averse to speaking to them, his eyes sharp and threatening, while Thomas was pleased with their arrival.

"My lord," Aske spoke, Constable following suit as they bowed to Northumberland and his brother. "We come here to ask that you join our cause in asking his majesty to address our grievances against him regarding our faith and our disapproval of the Lord Secretary Cromwell."

"Then I am afraid, gentlemen, you will be met with disappointment. I am loyal to his majesty and will not make a move against no matter how I feel in regard to his reformation," Percy replied resolutely. Aske was crestfallen at his answer, shaking his head and turning to Grace with pleading in his eyes.

"My lady, it is said that you hold influence over his majesty, that he holds your opinion higher than Lord Cromwell's. We ask that you speak to his majesty about our complaints if Lord Percy will not." Aske had turned his attention to Grace, Percy slightly insulted but mostly protective as he yelled back at Aske.

"You would ask my wife to put herself at the mercy of the king for your benefit?" Percy spat at Aske, a fierce glare alight on his usually soft features. Grace reached her hand out to calm her husband, running her fingers along the knuckles of his hand soothingly as he let out a weak cough.

"I understand your request, but I think his majesty will not listen to me no matter what is rumored about me," Grace replied, her lips spread in a thin line across her face. She wanted to help these men, but she would not return to court so soon after her departure. And with Percy's condition, she feared this occurrence would exhaust him and make his illness worse if he tried to exert himself into the rebellion because of her beliefs. "His majesty will not listen to a woman. He has advisors such as Suffolk and Norfolk to guide him. Cromwell does not have complete control over the king, no matter what you think Mr. Aske." Though she had faith the king would see through Cromwell's lies, she hid her slight worry that Cromwell had too tight of a grip on the king.

Windsor Castle

"Why didn't you know?" Henry questioned Cromwell as his Lord Privy Seal revealed the insurrection in Lincolnshire. He was aghast at such a discovery, his patience running thin as his sharp tone threatened to turn into a roar. "You are supposed to know everything that goes on here." He approached Cromwell, the man cold as ice as Henry practically yelled in his ear. "You told me there was little opposition. On the contrary, you told me that most people were glad to see such places dissolved." He leaned closer, Cromwell barely flinching as his master's behavior. "You were wrong. You didn't know anything. Knave!" He finally let his anger run wild, striking the back of Cromwell's head while the man just kept his mouth shut as he accepted his punishment.

"Sit down. Write this," Henry commanded, Cromwell keeping his mouth shut, but compliant as e listened to the king's orders. Henry drew his hands roughly through his hair, trying to compose himself. "We take it as a great unkindness that our common and inferior subjects should rise against us without any grounds. As for the taking of the goods of the parish church, it was never intended. Yet, even if it had been intended, true subjects would not have dealt with me, their prince, in such violence but would have petitioned me for their purpose." Cromwell quickly transcribed every word, Henry sanding behind him threateningly with his hands crossed over his chest. "Now, I command you rebels to go home and sin no more. And remember your allegiance. You are duty bound to obey me, your king, both by God's commandments and by the law of nature." He leaned forward once more, his last sentence striking a chord within Cromwell's heart as the man shivered slightly, finally feeling the threat of his master's hand against him. The king left his rooms suddenly, leaving Cromwell alone to dwell on what had transpired. He was wise to withhold the fact that a certain woman had joined the rebels, that she was supporting them against the wishes of her husband. When that was uncovered, all hell would break loose and Cromwell would be blamed.

A/N: Comments?