He's not kidding. Charles really did do that. As for Catherine de Medici, I hadn't considered what to do with her, but perhaps I should. I'll give it some thought.
The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
He's not kidding. Charles really did do that. As for Catherine de Medici, I hadn't considered what to do with her, but perhaps I should. I'll give it some thought.
But Catherine is born here? She is born after the POD so maybe she is never born or died shortly after birth while Madeleine lived and remarried after the death of her first husband
Also a good point. Well, we'll simply have to see where the story takes me... I make no promises one way or another.
I would say who taking her totally out the way is the best thing to do with her (or she can marry her cousin Ippolito and rule over Florence with him)
Section LXXV - June 1521
Windsor, June 1521
The news that there was to be an archery tournament to celebrate the King’s birthday spread like wildfire and before long every young man at Court was practicing feverishly. And when the King announced that he himself would not be taking part, but that whoever won the tournament would get to crown his own Queen of Truth and Love, their fervour was more than redoubled. It was near impossible to ever obtain a space by the archery butts. Everyone knew that, since the King had declined to take part, the competition was far more open than it would usually be. They were all determined to prove themselves worthy of being crowned the champion.
Marie heard them at it from where she lay closeted in her lying-in chamber and smiled complacently. Let them practice all they wanted. She was sure Harry Percy would be doing the same.
She whiled away many a happy hour imagining the exact moment when her husband would crown Harry champion and he, in turn, would crown Annie his Queen.
Yet she refused to tell Anne what was making her so happy, no matter how the younger girl pestered her. Telling her would both spoil the surprise and lead to disappointment if the impossible happened and Harry either lost the tournament or failed to crown her his Queen. Instead, she encouraged her sister, who’d always had a keen interest in fashion, to help her plan her dress for the event, as well as the dresses both Maria and Meg Douglas would wear, and Anne’s own, of course.
Anne excelled herself, as usual, and on the day of Henry’s birthday, the Court having moved to Windsor to celebrate, they went down to the archery butts, Marie resplendent in periwinkle blue trimmed with silver, Maria and Meg in a reversal of the colours and Anne herself in darker blue over silver and pale blue underskirts.
It was Marie’s first public appearance since her churching and she was determined to make a good impression.
She made an incredible one. As she walked the length of Windsor’s halls, Prince Lionel in her arms and Princess Mary at her side, followed by both a train of ladies and the King’s little niece, Lady Margaret, the Court cheered itself hoarse for her. All thoughts of her low birth were forgotten in the light of her great achievement, the bearing of a healthy, squalling Prince.
It was only when she put Lionel back in his governess’s arms and put a hand out that they quieted.
“I thank you for your love and I am honoured to be your Queen, but today is not about me. He has been nothing but a loyal, loving husband to me for almost a year now and I adore him with all my heart. For the sake of that love, I ask you now to come help me celebrate his birthday, for he deserves it.”
With a roar, the Court surged outside and laughing, Marie led the cheers as her husband came to join them.
Kissing her and heaving both Maria and Meg Douglas on to his lap, Henry raised a hand, “Let the tournament begin!”
*** *** ***
A few hours later, Harry Percy stood on the edge of the archery field, an arrow nocked to his bowstring. His heart was thudding. He knew that with a couple more good shots, he could win the tournament. Win the tournament and crown his Queen.With a quick intake of breath and a silent prayer, he released his penultimate arrow, satisfaction flooding him as he realised it would be a bull’s-eye.
The crowd applauded and when John Dudley fumbled his shot, making it impossible for anyone to catch Harry, they roared approval, cheering him happily as he playfully shot his last arrow right through the French Ambassador’s plumed hat.
“Lord Percy!” The Queen scolded lightly, but the King was laughing openly, “Not only a fine archer, but a patriot to boot! Well done, Lord Percy. You've proved yourself a worthy champion. Now choose your Queen of Truth and Love."
Harry took the finely-beaten circlet of silver ivy and bronze honeysuckle with a bow and the crowd watched him eagerly as he turned to face the spectators. As he had no wife, everyone expected him to choose the Queen, in order to please the King, or else perhaps his mother or one of his sisters. To their surprise, however, he didn't.
Although he bowed courteously to the Queen as he passed her, and smiled at his mother and sisters, he walked purposefully past them, straight up to the young dark-haired girl who stood beside the Duchess of Suffolk. Taking her hand, he kissed it and then set the circlet in her tumbling jet-black curls with the greatest of care.
"All hail Your Grace," he murmured, sinking to one knee before her.
A chorus of murmuring and applause broke out and Anne Boleyn flushed with pleasure.
Oh, our Annie, as George occasionally calls her, is at the centre of much of the scandal that surrounds Henry's court for the next couple of years. How could she not be, being the Queen's beloved and beautiful, but also teenaged and outspoken, younger sister?
Because the common people won't likely know it was all a setup to end exactly as it did!
Thanks! It's always been one of my favourite parts of this story. Just the image of Harry kneeling at Anne's feet with a crown upon her dark head - I loved it! (I may also have been reading Game of Thrones when I first wrote this story and wanted to echo the Harrenhal tourney...)
I was going make a scathing remark about Rhaegar/Lyanna and how clearly superior Anne and Harry are as a couple, but I will refrain.
But if you are cruel to only the "right" characters ... well, I don't think any of us would complain.
Section LXXVI - June 1521
Windsor, June 1521
The musicians were playing lively jigs and the lords and ladies were whirling around the dance floor, laughing merrily as their sovereigns spun through the room, leading the celebrations as befitted the birthday man and his wife.
Henry roared with laughter and suddenly swept Marie off her feet, joy lending him strength. She started, but beamed as he lifted her high above his head, up towards the rafters.
“You’re very merry tonight, Sire,” she chuckled.
“Don’t I have the cause to be?” he breathed, swooping her back down again, “I am a man in his prime, with a healthy son in the cradle and the most beautiful woman in all of England for my wife.”
Unable to help himself, Henry let his eyes rove over Marie’s newly-slight figure. She had lost some of the weight Lionel had made her gain, but her breasts were still slightly swollen. They peeped temptingly over the top of her aquamarine silk gown.
Attuned to his every nuance after a year of marriage, Marie sensed, rather than saw, his eyes darken with lust. She slapped his hand lightly where it lay on her waist.
“For shame, My Lord! I am barely churched with your son and already you think to get me pregnant with a Duke of York?”
“It’s not my fault you’re so irresistible,” Henry flashed back and was rewarded with her blue-green eyes sparkling as Anthony Knivert, his long-time friend and Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, whisked her out of his arms.
“Later,” they seemed to promise, “Later.”
*** *** ***
Meanwhile, on the other side of the ball room, Marie’s younger sister was having a fine time of her own. Clad in damask the colour of burnished amber, she was truly glittering in the candlelight, a fact her brother was quick to remark on as he twirled her around.“You look positively radiant tonight, Annie.”
“Fie, George, I am nothing to our sister. The Golden Queen, they’re calling her now, did you hear?”
“Aye, and if that’s so, then you must be the Lady of Amber.”
“Save your compliments for your wife,” Anne retorted, but she was laughing, the crown Harry Percy had presented her with earlier still glistening in her curls as the music came to an end and she curtsied to her brother before letting him guide her off the dance floor.
“You’re utterly brazen, George,” she sighed, “One day, you’re going to get yourself into trouble.”
“Not brazen, dear sister, just a Boleyn,” George winked and then suddenly melted away without another word. Anne was a little surprised, but seconds later, a wonderfully familiar arm snaked its way around her waist.
“Walk with me,” Harry Percy breathed into her ear.
“With pleasure,” she murmured in response, happy to allow him to escort her out into the gardens.
The warm June night wrapped itself around them like a blanket and the crickets were chirping softly as they strolled in companionable silence through the flowerbeds. The slightest breeze stirred Anne’s curls and she put up a hand to tidy them. But her heart was thudding and her fingers nowhere near as poised as usual. She knocked her crown askew and Harry had to reach up and set it right for her.
“There. Now you are crowned. As you ought to be.”
“You speak treason, Lord Percy,” she warned teasingly, suddenly breathless despite herself, “Have you forgotten my sister is the Queen? I would not take her place, not for the world.”
“Nor would I have you take her place. She is King Henry’s choice and fully deserves to be. I only meant that, were I King, you would be my choice. Were I King, you would be my Queen.”
“Harry!”
Words failed Anne and she could only watch, disbelievingly, as Harry sank to one knee before her and offered her a ruby and diamond ring.
“I can’t offer you a kingdom, Anne, but I can offer you a castle. I can’t make you a Queen, but I can make you a Countess. And I swear to you, before God, the Virgin Mary and all the Saints, London would have to melt into the Thames and snowballs survive the torments of Hell before I stopped loving you. On those terms, will you marry me? Will you be my Lady Anne, my Lady Northumberland, now and forever?”
Tears pricked Anne’s eyes and she let them flow forth, pouring down her cheeks as she held out her hand, silently, for the ring. He slipped it on to her finger and it nestled safely against the top of the knuckle of the third finger of her left hand, before she helped him up and kissed him more firmly and more deeply than she ever had before. She didn’t even try to hide her tears; didn’t care if he tasted the salt on her lips.
“Is that a yes?” Harry asked breathlessly when they finally broke apart. Anne chuckled, her voice cracking on the tears of happiness that still threatened to choke her.
“Of course it’s a yes, you dolt! Do you not already know that I’d rather be your Countess than the greatest Queen in Christendom?”
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Just in case anyone is interested - I have all but finished editing this TL (at least the stuff I've written as a fanfic). Chapter 150 takes us to the middle of 1524 
I could also be persuaded to try and draw up a family tree for this story, if anyone would like to see one. Although I will say that Henry and Marie haven't finished their family yet, so it would need regular editing as the TL progressed...
I could also be persuaded to try and draw up a family tree for this story, if anyone would like to see one. Although I will say that Henry and Marie haven't finished their family yet, so it would need regular editing as the TL progressed...
The tree would be great...Just in case anyone is interested - I have all but finished editing this TL (at least the stuff I've written as a fanfic). Chapter 150 takes us to the middle of 1524
I could also be persuaded to try and draw up a family tree for this story, if anyone would like to see one. Although I will say that Henry and Marie haven't finished their family yet, so it would need regular editing as the TL progressed...
Savour them, because 1522 and 1523 are nowhere near as rosy, I can tell you that now...