I think who a man like Edward Seymour would likely emerge also in this scenario... Maybe with a recommendation by the Pembrokes, just for making it more funny?
The Queen is Dead!: Katherine of Aragon dies in 1518
- Thread starter FalconHonour
- Start date
Actually, George I could see getting on with Edward and Thomas, if only to spite his father... I'll give it some thought!
Right, I have been doing some thinking about how I am going to tackle the rest of this TL. I have decided, rather than risk running out of steam, I am going to take a leaf out of @Cate13 's book. The main body of this TL will take us up to the summer of 1531 - I think I can come up with enough material to cover the intervening years, and have in fact already written the final section - and then I will do a couple of epilogue chapters, possibly in the style of history books/dramas, to tie up any loose ends, should there be any.
Oh and I have come up with the title of a modern biography of TTL's Henry. It is: 'England's Second Conqueror: A Life of Henry VIII, 1491-1551'
He lived a little longer this TL!
Maybe it's because those otl Jousting accidents didn't happen? Think there were two? And they happened mostly during otl Anne Boleyn's reign. That is, I think they happened then...
Indeed it is because the 1536 jousting accident didn't happen. It means he doesn't gain quite as much weight and lives a bit longer. It's the Sweat that gets him this time around.
Well he's not going to be happy about that! Wasn't Henry VIII a bit of a hypochondriac in regards to the Sweat OTL?
That's the plan. It makes up for Anne never having caught it TTL.
Yes, he was, which makes the irony of killing him off with it all the more delicious!
Section CXXXIII - June 1523
Chateau d' Amboise, June 1523
Meanwhile, in France, Anne’s belly continued to swell, the baby inside battering her more and more impatiently as the months wore on.
Finally, on the seventeenth of June, after a surprisingly easy labour for a firstborn, Anne gave birth to a beautiful baby girl with her father’s eyes and her mother’s dark fuzz covering her head.
She lived up to her earlier moniker of ‘fidget’, never lying completely still, even when just a day or so old.
Anne, sharp-tongued still, even at sixteen, transformed overnight into a doting mother. She adored little Margaret with all her heart and could barely bear to let her out of her sight. In her desire to involve herself with Margaret’s upbringing as much as possible, she was fully supported by her husband, Lord Percy, who allowed her to feed their little girl with her own milk, even though it went against convention.
Of course, as far as Anne was concerned, there could only be one godmother for such a precious child.
“I’d be honoured, Madame. After all, I named her for you,” she explained on her second afternoon as a mother, as the Duchess of Alençon stood by her bedside, cradling the wriggling Margaret.
“Mais, Annabelle. You name her for me? You ask me to be godmother? Think how this will be received in England. Surely your mother or sister would be a far safer namesake?.”
“Elizabeth is a beautiful name, but it is not the one I want for my daughter,” Anne returned fiercely, “You made me the woman I am, Madame. I can think of no better namesake for my daughter. Please, I beg you. Say you will be her namesake and her godmother at her baptism.”
Anne’s eyes were burning, colour flaming high in her cheeks. Marguerite, loath to distress the younger woman so soon after she had given birth, patted her hand with her free arm.
“Bien, Cherie, bien. If it means that much to you, how could I ever refuse ma petite Boleynette? Of course I’ll be her godmother. I’d be honoured to do so, in fact. I just hope you know how badly this will be received in England.”
Was she really going to call her first daughter anything else TTL?
I mean, you're right, but that's an open can of worms now.
He will not like it at all but maybe the shock will make him recover some good sense?
His sister has more to do with Henry coming to hie senses than anything Anne can do from across the Channel, believe you me.
I know, I was talking in the specific about Henry recovering some good sense about Anne and Henry Percy not in general...
This is true, but again, it takes a Mary to coax Henry into surrendering his pride where they're concerned...
No. No, they are not.
Section CXXXIV - July 1523
I feel like the world is going mad and I'm going mad with it... Tudors AUs are my safety net when I'm like this, so have another chapter.
“Your sister!” he growled, clearly too irate to say any more.
“What’s she done now?” Marie sighed, rising to pick up the letter as Henry threw it down in front of her.
“Not only has she fled to that boasting cockerel’s Court, but she’s had the gall to name her daughter after his spoilt minx of a sister. And name her godmother!”
“I see,” Marie murmured, not sure what else to say. Henry glowered at her.
“Do you not have more to say, Madam? Do you not wish to condemn her for her actions? God, I could almost have her branded a traitor for leaving the country without my say-so! What if we'd needed Lord Percy in the north to contain the Scots? Their flight would be dereliction of duty and desertion! I could have him hanged for less!"
“What do you want me to say, My Lord? While I of course sympathise with you, for Lord and Lady Percy should never have left England without Your Majesty’s permission, Lady Percy is my younger sister. Surely, even in your anger, you can see that it is only natural that I should be delighted to hear that she has been delivered of a healthy baby girl?”
Her voice was cool, but had a definite edge to it. Henry stared at her, jaw set as hard as stone.
“I could wish you were an only child, Madam. Perhaps then I might finally have a hope of commanding your full loyalty!”
Words ringing in the air, having been spat out between gritted teeth, she spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.
On his way back to his own rooms, he was hailed by Honour.
“Sire? Might I have a word?”
“Honour, my own emerald!” he cried, throwing an arm out sweep her in towards him, “Walk with me!”
He swept her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, “You’re beautiful,” he breathed, “I’m so glad you’ve got no family to take advantage of your relationship with me. You’re as honest as the sun, you do know that, don’t you?”
“I thank Your Majesty for the compliment. I can only hope that you will still find me so pleasing when I am the size of a Leviathan or when I have a tempestuous babe squalling at my breast.”
As she expected, her words stopped the King in his tracks.
“Are you telling me you’re with child?” he gasped, spinning around to face her.
She nodded, “Due in November, Sire.”
“November? But then you must be four months at least. Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I’ve heard that the first three months are the most dangerous. I didn’t want to raise Your Majesty’s hopes too early in case anything went wrong.”
“All the more reason for me to ensure that the greatest care is taken of you!” he exclaimed, “I’ll send you away to York Place. You can rest there and Wolsey will look after you. He may not approve of our relationship, but he’ll cherish you for my sake.”
He kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder, hard and warm.
Honour nodded, knowing it was no use arguing, “Might I have a companion or two in York Place, My Lord?”
“Of course,” he chuckled indulgently, “You’re the mother of my child. I’d not have you bored.”
Contented, Honour nodded again and rested her head on his chest. He slipped his arm around her and the two of them stood together, silently bonded by the child growing in Honour’s belly.
Woodstock, July 1523
The doors of Marie’s apartments crashed open and Henry stormed in, face black with fury. He brandished a letter at Marie.
“Your sister!” he growled, clearly too irate to say any more.
“What’s she done now?” Marie sighed, rising to pick up the letter as Henry threw it down in front of her.
“Not only has she fled to that boasting cockerel’s Court, but she’s had the gall to name her daughter after his spoilt minx of a sister. And name her godmother!”
“I see,” Marie murmured, not sure what else to say. Henry glowered at her.
“Do you not have more to say, Madam? Do you not wish to condemn her for her actions? God, I could almost have her branded a traitor for leaving the country without my say-so! What if we'd needed Lord Percy in the north to contain the Scots? Their flight would be dereliction of duty and desertion! I could have him hanged for less!"
“What do you want me to say, My Lord? While I of course sympathise with you, for Lord and Lady Percy should never have left England without Your Majesty’s permission, Lady Percy is my younger sister. Surely, even in your anger, you can see that it is only natural that I should be delighted to hear that she has been delivered of a healthy baby girl?”
Her voice was cool, but had a definite edge to it. Henry stared at her, jaw set as hard as stone.
“I could wish you were an only child, Madam. Perhaps then I might finally have a hope of commanding your full loyalty!”
Words ringing in the air, having been spat out between gritted teeth, she spun on his heel and stalked out of the room.
On his way back to his own rooms, he was hailed by Honour.
“Sire? Might I have a word?”
“Honour, my own emerald!” he cried, throwing an arm out sweep her in towards him, “Walk with me!”
He swept her hair aside and kissed the back of her neck, “You’re beautiful,” he breathed, “I’m so glad you’ve got no family to take advantage of your relationship with me. You’re as honest as the sun, you do know that, don’t you?”
“I thank Your Majesty for the compliment. I can only hope that you will still find me so pleasing when I am the size of a Leviathan or when I have a tempestuous babe squalling at my breast.”
As she expected, her words stopped the King in his tracks.
“Are you telling me you’re with child?” he gasped, spinning around to face her.
She nodded, “Due in November, Sire.”
“November? But then you must be four months at least. Why didn’t you say anything earlier?”
“I’ve heard that the first three months are the most dangerous. I didn’t want to raise Your Majesty’s hopes too early in case anything went wrong.”
“All the more reason for me to ensure that the greatest care is taken of you!” he exclaimed, “I’ll send you away to York Place. You can rest there and Wolsey will look after you. He may not approve of our relationship, but he’ll cherish you for my sake.”
He kissed her forehead and squeezed her shoulder, hard and warm.
Honour nodded, knowing it was no use arguing, “Might I have a companion or two in York Place, My Lord?”
“Of course,” he chuckled indulgently, “You’re the mother of my child. I’d not have you bored.”
Contented, Honour nodded again and rested her head on his chest. He slipped his arm around her and the two of them stood together, silently bonded by the child growing in Honour’s belly.
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