The Once Queen

A/N: Hi… So I'm not dead… thank you to anybody who reviewed, thus spurring me to start writing this chapter. I re-read this book today (necessary as I haven't written in a while, sorry about that) and have been cringing at some obvious mistakes that I made… I shall have to edit that at some point. Also, I used a simile that was something about a falcon smiling at a mouse… FALCONS DON'T SMILE! Honestly, I could throttle my younger self. Sorry, no Charles in this Chapter but he will feature heavily in the next! However, there is the arrival of someone else…

Chapter 5 – the Royal Bastard

November 12th 1536

Hampton Court Palace, London

A lone rider with a falcon livery adorning his breast arrived at Hampton Court Palace with the sun setting delicately behind him, the sky a wash of oranges and pinks, with a scroll held tightly in his left fist.

The Welsh man had ridden for nearly three days, allowing himself little rest, as the Duchess – an intelligent and admirable woman, who had begun to better the lives of the people upon her lands almost immediately after her arrival in Pembrokeshire with her charitable nature – had entrusted him with this task so he was determined to perform it with as much efficiency as possible. Despite his exhaustion, he flung himself from his grey mare before she had even stopped trotting, speeding his way towards the entrance way.

After some questioning as to his intentions, and his inquiry as to where the King's chambers were located, he was soon being escorted through the depths of the palace and towards his destination.

Stopping at great oak doors, his escort swiftly spoke up, "announce to the King that a messenger has come from Pembroke Castle, and needs to speak with the King on a matter of great urgency."

The herald nodded his assent, his eyes alight with curiosity and the need to know what would be, without a doubt, the talk of the Court in the weeks – nay, months moving forward – and did as he was bid.

Soon enough, the Welsh man was being ushered into the King's outer chambers where he was dining with his new Queen and whom he assumed was her family. They all observed him, their faces a mix of desperation and concern.

The Duchess of Suffolk and Pembroke's messenger fought the twitching of his lips as he opened the scroll and announced to all, "upon the ninth of November at just past eleven o'clock in the evening, Her Majesty," there was flinching at his use of the Duchess' title, "gave birth to a healthy son."

The messenger grimaced as his fine, cream doublet was splattered with red wine as the King's goblet broke in his hands.

AB-AB-AB-AB-AB-AB

Pembroke Castle, Wales

It was a boy.

Just thinking the phrase still made Anne feel a sense of surprise and disbelief, even as she looked down at the child now.

Her son was healthy and alive. He was not a Prince, that was true, but his small lungs were strong, regularly demanding attention by letting out ear-splitting cries that made Anne grin through tears.

He was her little lion cub. Her Lionel.

From the beginning, the names Henry and Edward were never going to have been used. Anne regularly associated them with her dead sons, and she did not wish to feel as though she was replacing them in her memory. She had, fleetingly, considered calling the baby Charles just to spite Henry, but decided that she didn't want her baby to be named out of vengeance. He deserved better than that.

In the end, it was the Princess Elizabeth who suggested the name that was chosen. It was a name that a young, Welsh peasant boy that she sometimes played with, and the little Princess said the name reminded her of a lion.

The three lions are a symbol of England, and her son is the son of the King. To the world, it would display that he should be the next King; that he is England. To her, he would be her little lion cub.

It also didn't hurt that the last son of a King called Lionel was Lionel, Duke of Clarence whose descendants took the throne from the Tudors' close relations – the Lancastrians.

Let Henry and his whore feel a bit of healthy fear, Anne thought to herself with a small smirk.

As if knowing she was thinking of him, the baby opened up it's cobalt blue eyes that resembled Henry's so perfectly. She gently stroked the tufts of dark hair that were spread across his head and smiled. His facial features were no doubt prone to change in the coming months and years, and she both hoped for and dreaded him resembling Henry.

Her daughter, who lay curled into her left side, had been enthusiastic about his lack of red-gold hair, dark eyes and femininity. The Princess had confided in her mother not long after they first arrived at Pembroke Castle that she feared Anne would soon have another red-haired daughter who would replace Elizabeth in Anne's heart.

Anne had assured her that was impossible, but Elizabeth had still been relieved to have a dark-haired brother instead. The Duchess of Suffolk and Pembroke decided not to mention that his hair may lighten as he gets older.

One issue that had been playing on Anne's mind regularly during her time in Wales, and even more so now that little Lionel was born, was the question of his last name. Would Henry be generous and permit him the use of the last name Tudor? Would Henry command he be called a Brandon and that Charles acknowledge Lionel, despite the entirety of Court being unlikely to believe it? Would her son be acknowledged as a FitzRoy?

Anne scowled at the idea of her son being labelled a FitzRoy. She would much rather have him called a Boleyn, but she doubted such an idea would be agreed to.

Could her son even be labelled a bastard? She could not think of any past scenarios in which a babe had been conceived during a marriage, but born outside of one.

She frowned.

That was an inquiry for another time, not when she was enjoying precious moments with both of her children.

For now, all she could hope was that she wouldn't be called back to Court anytime soon. Court was wonderful, but her children's company was better.

Her daughter awoke at that moment, raising her head tiredly to regard at Anne and her sleeping brother. The Princess of England frowned and informed Anne, disgustedly, "he's still wed (red) and wrinkly," with a voice heavy from sleep.

Her daughter's comment wasn't even that humorous, but Anne found herself laughing until her stomach ached regardless; overwhelmed by the joy of this moment.

Finally, the motto of The Most Happy had truth behind it once again.

"Shouldn't you be getting to your French lessons, I am sure that Monsieur Jean-Claude will be most disappointed to find his pupil to be late on their first day, especially when he has been informed of what an intelligent girl she is," Anne mock-mused, resulting in the three year old swiftly scrambling out of the canopy bed. Unsurprisingly, her movements made Lionel fuss, though he was soon content once he was been given a sufficient amount of attention.

"Sworry mama, sworry Lionel!" Her red-haired daughter called out as she rushed to ask Lady Bryan to get her get ready so she could attend the French lessons that she had demanded, informing her mother that she was a 'big girl' and big girls could have language tutors.

Anne smiled at her retreating form.

AB-AB-AB-AB-AB-AB

December 17th 1536

Hampton Court Palace, London

"He's bringing the concubine and both of her children to Court for Christmas! I've heard that he intends to set her up with permanent lodgings! How could you have allowed this?"

"You've been married since April, surely it isn't that hard to become with child, honestly Jane!"

Lady Elizabeth Seymour, the widow of Sir Anthony Ughtred, observed her father and brothers' displeasure as they paced, scowled and yelled in turn. Only one of her brothers, Henry, looked calm, having less ambition than the rest.

Despite her less than brilliant relationship with her older sister, the new Queen, Elizabeth thought it was unfair of them to berate her simply for not getting pregnant yet. Neither women nor men had any control over when a child would quicken, so yelling at Jane would not help any.

Jane simply sat a couple of chairs down from Elizabeth, her head lowered like a scolded child.

Sighing, the former Lady Ughtred finally inquired, "is all of this really necessary? If you want Jane to become with child then she needs to be spending time with the King, not sitting here getting shouted at."

Her younger sister, Dorothy, scowled at her and snapped, "shut up. I can't believe you're still choosing to support the harlot over your own sister."

The middle Seymour girl fought a sigh. She didn't even understand why she was here; she had been all but disowned when she condemned Jane's behaviour towards the King during his second marriage, resulting in her being refused a place in her sister's household.

Elizabeth didn't dare inform them that she had received a letter from her once mistress, inquiring as to whether she would be interesting in joining her household once more, even if she was now a Duchess rather than a Queen.

She had already decided that she would agree.

"Has the King said anything of a surname for the child? A title?" Edward Seymour asked of his sister, his eyes narrowed irritably in her direction.

Jane said nothing. Only shook her head.

"What does the Duke think of all of this?" Dorothy asked, chin resting on her hand, "with his wife having another man's child, King or no."

"I don't think the Duke has been thinking of much late other than of drinks and women," Thomas, the youngest of the Seymour brothers, informed them, before beginning one of his crude anecdotes, "you know, I walked in on him and some noble lady some time ago, they had a goblet of wine rested on her c-,"

"Shut up, Thomas," Edward hissed, pinching his nose with his fingers. Their father, Elizabeth noted with revulsion, had looked most interested in the story; eyes misty.

For the first time in their family meeting, her sister finally spoke up, softly informing them with a strained voice, "I am trying, you don't underst-,"

"Well try harder," their father snapped, before pausing and lightening his tone slightly, "Janey, we need this. The King is not going to ennoble us until he has a son in the nursery and you will never be secure until then. He got rid of two Queens; he can cast you aside as well."

Queen Jane nodded, slightly tearful and very fearful.

At that, having seemingly got the reaction out of Jane that they wanted, the family meeting dispersed. Her father, Dorothy and her brothers left. Dorothy was a Lady-In-Waiting to Jane, but had been given some leave due to her first child having recently been born.

Driven by a need to say something, Elizabeth began, "Janey, do not put too much pressure on yourself; it will be easier if-,"

"Just shut up and leave!" Her sister shouted, finally bursting into tears.

Elizabeth hovered for a moment, listening with regret to Jane's sobs before leaving her sister's inner chambers.

This is a misery of your own making, sister, she thought to herself as she strolled past the sewing Ladies of the outer chambers, the crown has a price. And now you, like those before you, have to pay it.

AB-AB-AB-AB-AB-AB-AB

Pembroke Castle, Wales

Anne had laughed when she had received her summons to Court for Christmas, along with both of her children. She, along with the rest of the country, knew that the Queen had not yet become with child, and Anne had no doubt that this visit was, at least partly, in order to punish and threaten the Queen.

Perhaps she should feel bad for her rival, having regularly been under the pressure of having a son, but she didn't. Under the influence of her family or not, the girl had accepted the position of Queen, and thus had to accept everything that came with it.

As a Duchess twice over, Anne was allowed a considerable household; one that almost amounted to the same as the Queen's. Anne intended to make use of this. The size of your household was a symbol of status, and Anne refused to be seen as beneath her ex-husband's latest obsession, who maintained a modest household by choice.

The Duchess smirked when she thought of how the Seymours would react when they saw Lady Elizabeth Seymour in her household. The scandal it would bring, for the Queen's own sister to outwardly favour Anne.

Mary had yet to reply to her letter, but the once Queen held hope that her sister would join her household as well. Considering the fact that her father had not bothered to send a single message to her at Pembroke until her son was born and that she was no longer a Queen with a reputation she needed to ensure didn't get even worse, she felt no obligation to distance herself from her disinherited sister.

Watching her trunks be loaded into several of the carriages had Anne wondering what sort of reception she would receive from her husband. She hadn't seen the Duke of Suffolk since she left for Pembroke Castle at the end of May.

He would probably be counting the days before Anne got sent back to Pembroke, no doubt. Charles despised her company; a feeling she mostly shared. Sometimes she found him amusing, she supposed. Especially when he was irritated.

"We are ready to leave whenever you are, Your Majesty," one of her servants informed her, she nodded to him in thanks.

When the Princess Elizabeth walked out hand-in-hand with Lady Bryan alongside Nan holding little Lionel, they were ready to go.

Anticipation filled her. There was much to be done on this Court visit. Anne wanted to secure a betrothal for her daughter, ensure titles and perhaps even the Tudor surname for her son and to further fuel her popularity with the commons.

Despite these concerns, the younger Boleyn daughter also felt a child-like excitement.

She loved Christmas at Court.

A/N: next chapter, Christmas at Court! There will definitely be some drama… I love drama :) What do you think will happen next? Also, did you like this chapter? I was a little nervous about posting it because I haven't updated in so long…