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

A/N: Hello everyone! I apologize for the delay. I have been occupied for the past year, but I am back! I hope everyone is doing well and enjoy!

Ch. 11

Ay me, for aught that I could ever read,

Could ever hear by tale or history,

The course of true love never did run smooth,

But either it was different in blood.

~A Midsummer Night's Dream, William Shakespeare

Palais de l'eveche de Paris (Bishop's Palace of Paris) 10 January 1537

Despite his reluctance, Francois had given his daughter Madeline in marriage to James, King of Scotland. He would not take away her chance at happiness as she seemed overjoyed to be married to the Scot, but he worried because of her poor health and weak stature that she had inherited from her mother. As the father of the bride, he had given a generous dowry which had increased the treasury of the Scottish king greatly, but it wouldn't make him forget the fact that his eldest daughter would be leaving him within the next few months.

As he watched his daughter, Francois smiled at the brilliant grin she wore while she danced with her new husband. New Year's Day she had become a bride and her elation was contagious as well as never-ending. She looked like an angel with a crown of gold upon her head, matched with a sumptuous apparel befitting her status as the Queen of Scots. However, with the marriage of his daughter his own marriage was now a priority as well as defeating his mortal enemy, the emperor.

Francois' troops had prevented the emperor from entering Peronne and the Count of Nassau had retreated in September. Now Francois was turning his focus to Flanders and Artois, two territories he had surrendered in 1526 in the Treaty of Madrid. But before he continued his war, he needed to marry. His bride had been decided, Margaret of Mecklenburg-Schwerin. Her father, though a known Lutheran, would provide an alliance with France that could be used as defense against the emperor. After all, the German principalities had joined together in a defensive religious alliance known as the Schmalkaldic League and though Henry of Mecklenburg-Schwerin was not a member of the league, he would defend the German principalities against the emperor.

The meeting was set for February and Francois was already feeling anxious about his impending marriage. This would be his third wife and he prayed to God they would be blessed with children. Though his son Henri was married, he feared the marriage would be childless. Four years and still no grandchildren. As for his youngest son Charles, he would be married when he was older, but Francois could not fully rely on his sons to continue his dynasty.

"Your majesty looks deep in thought," George Boleyn stated as he spoke next to Francois. As husband to Francois' niece, George would occasionally be seated at the same table as the king. And though he wasn't seated directly next to him, he could see the king's emotions as clear as crystal as each one fluttered across his features rapidly. George had approached him, attempting to aid the king in his troubles.

"My daughter has just been married and is leaving me for Scotland. I have much on my mind," Francois responded, a chuckle erupting from George's throat.

"Forgive me, majesty. I did not mean to remind you that your daughter is now a queen of her own country," George replied.

"Her health is what worries me the most. Scotland is not like France. The weather there is not suitable for her condition," Francois revealed, making George frown. He knew the new Queen was fragile in health and the Scottish climate would be unforgiving.

"I realize your majesty's position must be difficult." Francois nodded, still watching his daughter with a hint of melancholy. "I will pray for you both, you for your grief of losing your daughter in marriage and her for her health."

"Perhaps you should pray for me to have the strength to let her go," Francois concluded, the pair then settling into a comfortable silence as the festivities continued into the late hours of the evening.

Meanwhile, a plot was lurking against the French and the English. Chapuys reported his findings in England to Conde de Cifuentes. Most of England was against the king's Reformation and had taken the oath out of fear. The Pope had made his cousin, Reginald Pole, a cardinal which threatened Henry even more. He could act as a papal legate and influence the rebels to revolt against the king once more.

From Nice, the Emperor had sent a message to the Pope that for peace in Christendom, that he would give Milan to the Duke of Angouleme with compensation for his losses. Angouleme would have to marry one of the daughters of the King of the Romans in exchange. However, if refused, Milan would be given to Don Luis or the son of the Duke of Savoy and he would make a league with the Pope, the Venetians, and the Italian princes. It was evident the Pope would side with whoever listened to reason and the emperor was sure the Pope would side with him.

The Pope had accepted his decision of choosing Don Luis or any other suitable candidate, but he would not state whether he would join a league against the French or not. Instead, his son Pier Luis was sent to have council with the Emperor. The defense against the Turks, the Italian League, and a marriage of the Pope's nephew to a daughter of the King of the Romans was discussed. Only one point had been determined: Francois and Henry were left behind in the fray, the Emperor seemingly at the height of his power with the Pope on his side.

Greenwich 12 January 1536

Henry had been informed of his nephew's marriage and though he was family, there was still the threat of an alliance against him. Francois now had the upper hand, Scotland endangering the north while the French posed as an enemy in the south. It infuriated Henry to no ends and with the marriage of George Boleyn and Jacqueline de Longwy, he hated his previous wife's family even more.

Henry had also been told by his sister Margaret had of his nephew's behavior towards her as well as her husband's. James was ignoring his stepfather's brutal treatment of his mother while he paraded his new wife around in France, as Henry had paraded Jane around at his own court. And now he watched his wife carefully as she interacted with her ladies, Anne Bassett among them.

"Is something on your mind, majesty?" Charles Brandon asked the king. Henry was unaware the duke had been watching him, both sitting at the head table for the duration of dinner.

"You seem to always know when my mind wanders, Charles," the king remarked. "Ever since we were children you were the only one to notice, even if my face never betrayed my emotions."

Charles chuckled, reminded of their childhood. He had been selected as a companion for Prince Arthur all those years ago, but Henry chose him as his closest hand. "It is my job to know when you are uneasy, majesty."

Henry merely nodded his head, his eyes watching his wife's every move as he spoke in a more serious tone. "I've sent Norfolk to the north to reside as lieutenant, in the case another uprising should occur. He will carry out the law in my absence and keep an eye on those rebels. The people will see the good of the law and the dangerous intentions of violence if they rise against me. He will go to Doncaster and administer the oath, then Pomfret, and finally York. York is essential to this plan."

"And he will allow the people to make suits for restitution?" Charles questioned.

"The oath is a must. They must prove their loyalty to me and me alone." Henry took another long sip from his chalice. "Restitution will only be offered to those who make their pledge to me. Money has been detained in those parts long enough. Funds for the crown will be recovered first and then damages will be addressed." Henry sounded harsh in his tone; his eyes dark while he finished his wine.

Charles looked at the king in a bewildered manner, taken aback by his severity. "How can you expect the north to pay you such when they barely have enough to support themselves?"

"They had enough during their insurrection. Now they must pay the price for their violence." Charles shivered internally, only able to imagine what would occur if the North struck back again.

"It was few who acted in violence, majesty. And those who arranged the pilgrimage discussed their undying loyalty to you. Master Aske discussed such things with you. Are you willing to go back on your promises? Are you willing to go back on your promise of a Parliament at York? Forgive me if I am out of step, but are you willing to sacrifice the trust of your people for your pride?"

Henry chuckled darkly, Charles internally cringing at the king's reaction. "Trust you say? Why should I trust Aske? Why should I trust Darcy to completely disband the rebels and not disobey my rule again? Who's to say someone else won't attempt another uprising?" Charles was perplexed but also cautious as the king spoke.

"Majesty?"

"My cousin, Reginald Pole, has been made a cardinal by the Pope. And with that appointment, he has been given the task of aiding the pilgrims in any way he can. You think I speak about pride when my throne, my life is at risk because of my damned cousin? He's a reminder of the Yorks, a reminder that my claim to England, my father's claim, is once more at risk," the king elaborated.

"Everyone knows you are the true king of England. If Pole even attempts to travel here, Francois is sure to deny him passage. He would not risk his peace with you to support a pretender," Charles spoke.

"It's happened before, Charles," Henry responded with a hint of despair in his tone. "Twice my father encountered such threats. Now it is my turn. Pole will not set foot in England as long as I live. I swear on my father's grave, I will not fail."

16 January 1537

Cromwell continued the dissolution of the monasteries with a fervor like never before. Taxes weighed heavily on the North and the promises made by the king were surely doubted by some leaders of the rebellion. To the dismay of Aske and Darcy, Francis Bigod launched another revolt in response to the looming threat that the king would seek revenge on the leaders of the Pilgrimage of Grace. His ancestors were known for their revolts against kings, Henry I and Edward III also experiencing the Bigod treachery. He marched on Scarborough and Hull but failed miserably. This gave the king even more incitation to inflict his rage against the North, Cromwell sinking his claws further into the monarch.

1 February 1537

The Valois family was together for an evening meal, the king enjoying his time with his new son-in-law and his niece's husband. He dreaded the day his precious daughter would leave, but he would have them stay in France for as long as possible. "There is news from the Pope, George," King Francois remarked as the royal family ate. "The emperor has sent word to the Pope that he will concede Milan to my son, under the condition that I provide compensation for the war and the loss of the Duke of Savoy as well as marring my son to one of the daughters of the King of the Romans."

"That is good news majesty, but I fear the emperor is taking advantage of you. He has the Pope within his hands and has power over him. He may ask for the advice of the Pope, but his actions are always controlled," George responded.

Francois chuckled softly, nodding his head at George. "You're quite right. He's said that if I don't accept his terms, Milan will be passed to Don Luis or the son of the Duke of Savoy. And that a league will be formed for the security of Italy."

"Security? The league will be formed so the emperor can extend his power over the whole of Europe. Italy will be first and then France, majesty. It is imminent. There will be attempt for all the countries of Europe." Francois shook his head in agreement.

"I have an advantage too." George studied the king, noticing a spark in his eyes. "The Venetians will not join this league for fear of the Turks. I have their allegiance for now. They fear I will ask them to strike against them. The Venetians and Italians may have taken an oath to support the emperor, but they would not dare attack me. It would be a grave mistake."

"Don Luis is being considered as a husband for Princess Mary. If the arrangement takes place, the emperor and King of England will join forces against your majesty. Have you considered this?" George questioned.

"If your sister was still married to the king, that would not be a possibility. If the Duchess of Gloucester was his queen, she would also prevent such a thing from happening. Queen Jane has no interference in the king's affairs. She has no political experience. I cannot rely on her," Francois spoke in a frustrated tone. Jane may have spoken French, but that did not mean she was involved in diplomatic proceedings. His ambassador spoke plainly of her, noting her meek behavior. She did not speak to him nor sought him out at court as the previous queen had.

"She follows whatever her brothers order. All she's focused on is conceiving an heir," George elaborated. He knew Edward and Thomas were cold to their sister, relying on her marriage as a source of power. It was like his father shoving Anne towards the king as a pawn to achieve his goals. It made him internally cringe, his memories returning to him of all the times his father's greed overlooked the love for his sister.

"You must propose a marriage of your son to the Henry's daughter. You must cement a stronger alliance with him or else we have no clue what his next step will be. He is caught between yours and the emperor's power struggle. Whoever's side he chooses, his opponent will be seriously weakened." Francois scoffed at his idea, not one to bow down to political challenges.

"You overstep yourself, George. I will do not such thing," Francois declared, George realizing his mistake.

"Forgive me, majesty. I did not mean to insult you." George bowed his head in respect, Francois looking at him with a slight hint of annoyance.

"I understand. Old habits are hard to get rid of," Francois commented, remembering when all the Boleyn family pushed for was the friendship of France. "I admire your persistency, but for now my marriage is all we should discuss regarding an alliance. My bride Margaret will arrive here within the next few months, either April or May we shall be married. I haven't decided yet. But it shall be a marvelous event."

"And you shall have the loyalty of her father," George added.

"Precisely. And that will be my advantage. The German principalities will come to my aid if anything should happen to me. Their hate for the emperor will be my salvation. My marriage will not only strengthen France but preserve my line. That is my fate."

Greenwich 5 February 1537

Arthur Neville was once more at court, accompanying his father and Henry Percy as they attended on the king. His uncle was there as well, More discussing the matters of the North extensively with the king. To no avail, More had failed in his attempts to calm the king's anger. He would not listen to reason. Even at this moment, Arthur could hear the king yelling at his uncle all the grievances the North had made against him.

"You expect me to do nothing? You expect me to sit here and wait for them to rise again? I should teach them a lesson in slaughter! I should teach them to obey their king!"

"And you will only incite more fear, Henry!" More would not back down from the king. "You hang them, and they will never trust you again. Execute them and they will live in fear of their king for the rest of their lives. They only want their sovereign to hear their pleas. I understand there has been another revolt. Punish those leaders. Do not take your anger out on Aske and Darcy who gather forces for your majesty as we speak."

"And what of Thomas Percy? What of the Earl of Northumberland's brother? I hear he stands with them. I hear he gathers forces against me. Perhaps he should be executed for his insurrection against me!"

"You would punish him, for you own selfish reasons," More spoke, hitting a soft spot with the king.

"Do not speak of selfishness with me, Thomas." Henry glared back at his old friend, his anger dripping from his dark eyes.

More let out an exasperated sigh, his face reflecting years beyond his age. "You have hung your subjects regardless of the depth of their involvement of the uprisings. You have executed young boys, children not men. All because their father's may have rebelled with Bigod…How many wives, how many daughters, how many mothers weep for these men they have loss?" Henry could say nothing, his tongue tied at the intensity behind More's words. "How many, Hal?!" More exclaimed, his severity surprising the king. He never lashed out at him, only a few times before in the king's younger days had he ever acted in such a manner.

"Perhaps we should end this conversation before you boil over, Thomas. My patience with you only extends so far." Henry nodded his head towards the door, his jaw clenching as he spoke. More didn't have to be told twice, his cloak sweeping behind him as he started for the door without a second thought. He would not stand there and be treated like an enemy. He was only trying to help the king, much more than Cromwell was doing. The wretched man only cared about making a profit from the sacred churches, nothing for the wellbeing of the people of the North.

More exited the king's chambers, coming into the great hall where his nephew awaited him. The eyes of the courtiers were glued to him, some sneering and some nodding their heads at More as if agreeing with his actions. No one had the strength to speak against the king, no except his dearest friend. Other than Suffolk, More was the only person allowed to speak freely with the king. Many believed the Duchess of Gloucester would travel to court to attest the king's behavior, but she was in confinement, her babe soon to be brought into the world. She had no time to deal with the king's revenge. That was Jane's duty to deal with now.

"Come, let us meet your father," More said as he approached Arthur, his nephew following along diligently as the vultures of court whispered among themselves. Arthur hardly paid attention as he maneuvered around ambassadors and lords, running into someone unexpectedly. He caught the person before she could fall backwards, apologizing profusely. He lifted his eyes, Elizabeth Seymour's face gracing his presence.

"My lady," Arthur said, "Please forgive me for my clumsiness. I was not paying attention and should have noticed when such gentleness was within my reach." He would not deny her beauty, having the same delicate features as her sister the queen. Elizabeth Seymour, recently widowed, was only nineteen years old yet possessed the maturity and grace of a woman far older. She did not serve in sister's household as she did for the previous queen, her late husband's support of the Boleyn's well known. She may have benefitted from her sister's status, but she also was scrutinized by her family.

"It was an accident Lord Neville. There is no reason to apologize," Elizabeth replied, her blue eyes peering up at him curiously. Her lips were spread into a thin line as she studied him, the brother of her sister's rival. She saw no cruelty in Arthur's eyes, only kindness.

"Nonetheless, I should have been paying attention and not have run into a lady." A light blush formed on Elizabeth's cheeks, Arthur chuckling as he succeeded in his attempt to produce a reaction from the woman. "May I ask why you are here and not with your sister?" he questioned.

Elizabeth's eyes darted to her feet for a moment, nervous at being asked such a thing as it concerned her private life. "I am here to speak to Lord Cromwell about myself and my children." Arthur's forehead creased in confusion, not understanding her meaning and forcing Elizabeth to continue. "Though I may be the queen's sister, there is only so much my family will do for me because of my late husband's support of the king's previous wife," she revealed.

"Then they are fools to treat you in such a manner," Arthur replied boldly. "Family does not turn their backs on each other, regardless of previous relationships."

"Your family and mine are very different Lord Neville," Elizabeth responded softly, her tone hinting at her family's lack of love and support. "If you'll excuse me, I have to meet Lord Cromwell now." She curtsied to Arthur, meaning for him to take his leave of her. She did not expect him to lean forward, almost breaking the rules of propriety with how close he was.

"If you need anything, all you have to do is ask and I shall provide it for you," Arthur declared. He stared at her for a moment, a look of genuine concern emerging from his green orbs. He departed from her, Elizabeth casting a gaze of curiosity in his direction. Arthur Neville had piqued her interest.

8 February 1537

"Must you leave so quickly?" Henry questioned as he lazily watched Mistress Bassett dress herself to attend on his wife. He lay on his bed, gazing at her with his head on the pillows and his body discreetly covered with a sheet. He would admit to himself that she was beautiful, her flawless skin bearing no marks and her breasts perfectly rounded. He frowned when her shift kept her body from view, Anne turning to smirk at him.

"I would stay all day if I could to please your majesty, but the queen has noticed my absence by now and I can only keep her waiting for so long," Anne replied. Henry lunged out from bed, pulling his mistress to him, and placing his lips over hers as he distracted her from leaving. She giggled as she was surrounded by his embrace and pulled onto the bed once more.

"She can wait," Henry stated, ripping her shift off and taking her once more. He was rough in their coupling, though Mistress Bassett did not protest. Her arms eagerly wrapped around him as he entered her, relishing in her tightness. Nan moaned into his ear, the sweet sound encouraging Henry further. Their hips met in a perfect rhythm, Nan pushing him to the edge as he soon finished. Henry laid over top of her, not moving as his breathing returned to normal as Nan tightened her arms around him. However, his thoughts were elsewhere and not in the room with his mistress. She was completely oblivious to where the king's mind truly was.

Meanwhile, Jane paced around her chambers, a bible in her hands as her ladies also read their daily prayers. It was silent, the only sound being the crackling embers of the fire as they whispered their devotions to God. The only lady missing was Anne Bassett, Jane slightly frowning as the lady appeared. She made quite the ruckus, rushing into her majesty's rooms slightly out of breath and red scattered across her cheeks.

Lady Bassett had the decency to be embarrassed as she curtsied to Jane, her eyes not meeting those of her mistress. Jane sent her a quizzical look, halting her reading. Jane Parker, the previous wife of George Boleyn, addressed her as the queen's head lady-in-waiting. "Mistress Bassett, perhaps you would like to tell me why you were late attending the queen?"

Anne's head shot up instantly, her blush now spreading to her ears. She refused to answer, giving Lady Parker a most pleading look. "I asked you a question Mistress Bassett," Jane continued, unrelenting as she prodded the girl for an answer.

Anne did not falter this time. Neither embarrassed or nervous of her statement, she pronounced clearly and boldly, "I was with his majesty." Gasps echoed throughout the room; Jane pleased at exposing the king's mistress while the queen turned pale. Anne was quick to try and defend herself though. "I met him in the hall. He was only asking after your majesty." Jane tried to brush off the declaration, forcing a smile on her face.

"Well, that was awfully kind of the king to escort you here. I know he is most busy and wished he could spend more time with me," Jane responded, keeping her composure as she fiddled with the pages of her bible. Her ladies all sent her wary looks, turning back to the lady-in-waiting under scrutiny. Jane was turning a blind eye, not willing to admit to herself that the king did indeed have a mistress. She would ignore it. She would not acknowledge it. She would pretend she had heard nothing. "Now, won't you join us in saying our afternoon prayers?"

Anne could only nod her as she slid into a seat on the outskirts of the circle. They all knew who the outcast was now, and no one wanted to be on the bad side of the queen. Sharp looks were sent towards Mistress Bassett, and she shook them off as she followed the queen's orders. For a second, Jane pitied her. Having been in the same position before her marriage to the king, she understood what it was like to be shamed and looked down upon when she was the previous queen's lady. She shook the thought away though, feeling threatened by the idea of another woman gaining the king's affections. She needed to get rid of her, needed to replace her before the king's love was taken from her as she had taken it from Anne Boleyn and Grace Neville.

Carlisle 10 February 1537

With the revolt arranged by Bigod in January, Sir Ralph Ellerker had reported everything to his majesty. Placing his loyalty above his fear, Ralph had with the support of Aske and Darcy reported all that had occurred with the new risings in the North. Some if Bigod's men had been captured, their release demanded. They had been declared traitors by the town of Hull. Meanwhile, Darcy had contacted the Earl of Shrewsbury, keeping him informed of the commotions. Suffolk had been dispatched in response to the insurrection, banning all assemblies without the king's authority.

It was a bloodbath, the rebels led by Sir Thomas Clifford who marched on Carlisle slaughtered by Suffolk's troops. Many of the men who marched with Aske joined Suffolk to atone for their sins with the first rebellion. He executed the dissenters with a fury like no other, ordered by the king who wanted so-called justice. Men were hung in their villages, many from trees on their own land. It was a symbol of what would happen if future revolts occurred, a symbol of the fate that awaited those whose fought against the crown.

Warwick Castle 12 February 1537

"Those poor men," Grace cried as she read her brother's letter. Arthur had written in detail all that he had heard at court, Percy returning to his wife as she was in her confinement. The rebels were hung in the presence of their families as she read further into the letter, warm tears emerging from her eyes and her hand covering her mouth as she trembled. She no longer recognized the king, no longer felt as if he were his true self.

Percy could only nod his head in agreeance as he watched his wife's behavior closely. She was not only mourning for the innocent, but also for the man she once loved. And Percy respected that notion. He knew Grace loved him once. He wouldn't dare to ask if she loved him still. But he knew her loyalty was fully with him. She had married him after all and not the king.

"You must not worry yourself with such things. It is a tragedy, but they defied the king. We must all remember that" Percy warned, his arms wrapping around his wife in comfort. Grace couldn't mutter a word, her body shaking as she continued to cry.

Grace felt liquid rush down her legs, her head turning to Hal as she clutched her stomach. "I think the baby is coming," she whispered. Her hands darted to her skirts, pulling her dress up to rid herself of the damp feeling she now experienced. Hal quickly lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the edge of the bed as she started to remove the skirts of her dress until she was in her nightgown.

"You must call for the midwife!" Grace exclaimed as a wave of pain overcame her body. She held her stomach once more as a contraction wracked her body. Percy would not leave her side, aiding his wife while she groaned, one handing now reaching out to lean against their bed. "You must go, Henry! I need the midwife!" Percy listened, albeit hesitantly as he inched away to call the servants to fetch a midwife.

Anne then made her grand entrance, her protruding stomach signaling her time was near as well. "The midwife has been called for. Now you must depart, Percy." She stated in a demanding tone. She was no stranger to childbirth, and she did not think Percy should be there unless necessary. Percy cast one more look at Grace, very much concerned for her wellbeing. She gave him an encouraging smiling which he returned before he turned towards the door to leave as requested. Anne gave his shoulder a supporting squeeze, Percy leaving the affairs of birth to the women as he waited for his child to enter the world.

A/N: Comments?