Hello, everyone, this is my first Tudors fic and I wanted to try my hand at it since I find the House of Tudor fascinating, specifically Henry VII and Henry VIII. I don't know where this story will lead, but I want to write this little plot or introduction, I suppose. Regardless, it will be a historical AU.

As for this little introduction, it begins after Catherine of Aragon's speech at Blackfriars on June 21, 1529.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors TV show or any of the characters. I guess that history technically owns them, but you know how it goes.

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June 1529

The fire cast a radiant glow through the room, but it did nothing to lighten his weight of misery, of his unholy fury. The darkness of night had long since overtaken the light of day, but he hadn't the faintest idea of what hour it truly was. He had locked himself in his privy chambers with Anne and Charles as his only company, overtaken with the urge to rage and bellow at the heavens, demanding answers from God.

Why? Why did the Pope refuse to see reason, to understand that England must survive after his death, and why did Catherine continue to be obstinate as she blatantly and egregiously lied to everyone?

Henry hadn't done any of those things, though. Rather, he hadn't said a word ever since entering the room, lost in his chaotic and grief-soaked thoughts. His eyes followed the flickering flames of the fire, and he was mesmerized by their lively and unpredictable movements; the glow shimmered across his cheeks, bringing warmth to his otherwise frigid soul.

Nothing was going according to his designs, not at all. When he had tasked Wolsey with obtaining an annulment for his cursed marriage to Catherine from the Pope, he had firmly believed that his advisor and friend would acquire it with the utmost haste, that the Pope would see reason, but then the Emperor sacked Rome, imprisoning the Pope, keeping him under his power and sway. Now, because of Pope Clement VII's cowardice to do what was right, England was on the brink of doom once more. All of his father's work to reunite the country and consolidate great power to forge England into a soon-to-be Empire that rivaled France and Spain would soon be for naught if Henry didn't do something.

Now, after having listened to Catherine's lies at Blackfriars about their marriage, about her virginity, he began to realize how foolish he had been acting ever since he had approached Wolsey.

Had he placed too much trust in the Cardinal? Matter of fact, why should he delegate the most important task of his reign thus far to someone other than himself? As Anne's book rightly declared, a King answered to no one but God, yet he was being forced to answer to that rat, Campeggio and the Pope. His father had gifted him the throne of England after he had fought over two decades for it, but Henry hadn't truly realized how much work Henry VII of England had put in until late.

Maybe he must do the same; maybe he must designate the task to no other but himself.

"Your Majesty, would you like a drink?" Charles' voice was soft, hesitant and Henry was reminded of their fierce bond that had been strengthened through the decades since they had met. "I fear for your health, my friend, so please, drink something."

Henry finally raised his head and silently observed Charles and Anne's faces, uncaring if he seemed closed-off. Charles was holding the mead in his direction, a silent plea on his face, the tilt of his brows familiar. Anne stared at him almost desperately, a loud grief in her eyes that he felt in his soul, her dainty hands clutching her knees tightly, and he was reminded that in spite of her upbringing, maturity, and intelligence, she was young.

He pulled one of her whitened hands into his own, bringing it to his lips. "I am sorry, Anne. I have not- …I have failed you, failed us - and our future sons, too."

Her beautiful eyes shut at his words and her fingers tightened around his own. "Do not say such a thing, please. I cannot bear it right now."

Inhaling roughly, he grabbed the mead from Charles and took a long drink. "But it is the damned truth as much as I hate to admit it, nonetheless say it! I have been unable to do a thing except sit back and let the Pope, the Emperor, Campeggio, and Catherine dangle me around as if I am a child. I am the King of England!" He rose to his feet, towering over them both, his rage unleashed. "How dare they? How dare Catherine? She has explicitly and blatantly lied before God!"

Charles' breath stuttered, "Your Majesty, what do you mean?"

Henry whirled towards the fire, the flames soothing to his warring mind. "She was not a virgin, I know it. How could she be? Everyone seems to forget that I knew my brother. I have heard the stories. He said that he was in the midst of Spain and that it was good pastime to have a wife! I have considered that my brother was boasting, but my brother never boasted for as long as I knew him before he died. The marriage needed to be consummated because the alliance needed to be secured. They were eternally joined together as husband and wife, but I stupidly and childishly ignored the evidence after my father's death so God has cursed me because of my ignorance and intolerable disrespect to his teachings. How else do you explain the buckets of dead children that she has birthed me? Her blighted womb killed my children before they were born."

"You do have a daughter, Your Majesty," his friend slowly pointed out and Henry looked at him. "Princess Mary is your only living child. The people love her - and more importantly, her mother."

"God alone knows why, for I do not," he sat back down, rubbing his face in exhaustion. "The people know nothing of them; they love an idea. They know nothing of Catherine's lies and actions. I do love my daughter, but she is a daughter, not a son. She is not fit to rule, you both know it as well as I do. A woman on my throne is against nature. Even if I put her on my throne, the people who love her would hate her; she would be killed or worse, become a puppet to the Emperor. I do not want another Empress Matilda situation, either. I need a son! A son, not a daughter! A King must have a son! Without one, I am but a gelded stallion! What if I die?" Henry's fists clenched; his blood pounded and the echo of horses thundering at each other assaulted him. "What if I fall off of my horse and break my neck? A few years ago, when you and I charged in the lists, my folly could have killed me." He ignored Charles' flinch; he noticed Anne's sudden pale countenance. "Your lance shattered just above my eye, and a year later, when I was out with my hawk, I came to a ditch. I drove my pole to help me cross but the damn thing broke. I was drowning in a pit of mud. If Mody had not pulled me out, I would have died. If I had, who would reign? When the Sweat returns, and it inevitably will, what if I succumb? What if a fever ravishes my body and carries me away to Heaven? Suppose that happens? Then what?"

His friend blinked, a realization suddenly appearing on his face before he boldly stared at him. "Your sister and I have- "

"I know that! I know of the gossip, of the rumors across Christendom. They say that a new dynasty will be brought to England by my nephew, but I want my own son. Is that too much to ask for, Charles, is it? For almost twenty years, I have bred, waiting for the Tudor Dynasty to grow past me and all that Catherine has given me are dead children, my children." Henry closed his eyes, feeling the clot of deep-seated grief in his heart that belonged to all of his dead children along with his mother and brothers. "Mary is frail; she is weak. I fear that a gust of wind will kill her. I have one bastard son, and while I have considered sitting him on my throne, I cannot do it. It, too, goes against nature. A bastard cannot hold England in the face of the Habsburgs! No one, especially the Kings of Christendom, would ever accept a bastard ruling England. Perhaps I will…" he trailed off, remembering what the Pope had hinted at but the thought was so foul that he couldn't finish the words.

"The Conqueror was a bastard, though." Charles pointed out, sipping from his own chalice.

"That is true, but times are different now. The first William won England through the right of conquest, and Fitzroy will not have that to help him." Henry sighed and revealed a secret. "I fear for him, even now. He reminds me so much, too much of my brother. Both of my children remind me of him. Every time I see Fitzroy, I notice how he seems to somehow be… deteriorating before my eyes. Arthur had always been in good health, I remember it, but looking back now, I can see how he had slowly declined just as I think Fitzroy will."

"And I do, too," his friend whispered while Anne looked between them, having no recollection of such things - almost no one did. "Everyone, especially your father, was shocked when he died, even though the signs were there."

"Exactly, and Arthur caught the damned, Satan-created Sweat, and somehow I see the same fate befalling my son - or something worse. He will never be my heir; it would restart the Cousins' War. I wager that Pole would use that opportunity to gain credence for his own claim, the old Plantagenet claim."

Anne swallowed, "I will give you your rightful and legitimate son and heir, I promise, but how can we have him? My childbearing years are slowly passing by as the Pope and the Emperor deny you, the King of England, and I fear that we will never be able to- " she abruptly cut herself off and devastation rippled across her lovely face.

Henry's eyes finally softened and he brought her hands into his larger ones. "I refuse to let that happen."

"But how can you do that? How can you promise that?" She asked desperately after glancing at Charles. "I love you, but we keep being forced apart by everyone."

"Because I do not want to miss it," he said softly, feeling incredibly weary, feeling the stark contrast between their years. "I refuse to miss the golden world of which we dream, in which our son will rule. I am old and although I am in excellent health and hope to live for decades more as my Uncle Arthur has done, I fear that my death could be near. I have avoided it several times recently and when it inevitably comes again, I might not be able to escape it."

Charles shared an unreadable look with Anne. "You need a son, and in the Lady Anne, you have chosen her to bear you one. Yet, in spite of your demands, Wolsey has failed you."

"Yes, but I do not know what to do with him. He has been my friend, Charles. He has been good to me."

His friend's eyes closed in sorrow, "He was kind to me when no one else was except for you, Your Majesty. The Court hated me along with the nobility, but the butcher's son, along with you, helped me thrive. There was a kinship between us."

"Aye, and for many years, I have thought of Wolsey as one of my dear friends. He's mentored me, taking my temper in stride, and even replaced my father's role as teacher after his death."

Anne's eyes locked onto his own, "But are you going to let that stop you from what you need? He has delayed and made flimsy excuses time and time again, for years now, denying us our chance to have strong sons and beautiful daughters! What if he is working with the Pope to keep you tied to Catherine?"

Henry closed his eyes, "Then he will regret it."

"What are you going to do, Your Majesty?" Charles asked, leaning forward. "I do not imagine that the Pope will rule in your favor after- "

"I know, Charles. I know better than most. Do you forget that I was destined for the Church before Arthur's death?"

"What will you do, then?"

"I will do what I must, Charles. I care not what the Pope thinks or the Emperor, or anyone for that matter. My decision is final; it is time to execute it. I will marry Anne, even if I must extort as my father before me." Henry shook his head, memories transporting him to the past. "How ironic. For as long as I remember, I swore not to be my father. I acted the opposite of him, but now as I age, I admire him - maybe love him. He personally worked for what he wanted, and I see now that I must do the same. I must go directly to the source and confront the liar. It is time that I indulge in the winter-like will and coldness that I inherited from Henry VII." He stood to his feet after kissing Anne's hands softly, "My departure will be temporary."

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June 1529

Henry entered Catherine's quarters, ignoring all of the kneeling forms. "Leave us," he commanded, a warning in his voice that echoed a stay in the Tower if he wasn't obeyed.

All of the ladies scurried out of the room as respectfully as possible and Catherine stood to her feet, a soft smile on her face. "My husband, I knew that you would finally understand- "

"No, it is time that you finally understand, Catherine," he barked out. "Maybe I have not been as gracious to you as I had thought, but this time, you are going to listen and you will obey me. My kindness and patience have expired. If you do not obey me, you will feel the full force of my wrath, and I think that you will find that I can employ several techniques that my father had mastered."

"Henry, I am your wife- "

"For a long time, I thought that you were, but God never thought so." He looked around the room, taking in the familiar sights that no longer felt like they belonged. "How else do you explain my dead children, Catherine? My sons? The ones that your cursed womb poisoned? What other reason could there be? Your line has always been able to sire living sons. Yet, all of my sons have been taken from this world without any memories. You see, God has punished me for marrying my brother's widow. I will never have a true son of my blood and name as long as you are my wife."

"I was a virgin when we married, Henry. I have told you," she inched closer, a plea in her old eyes. "I was untouched."

Henry shook his head, wondering how foolish he had been to always believe her, but no longer. "You and I both know the lies of which you speak. Five months. That was the length of your marriage to Arthur; there was much time to consummate your marriage.

"No- "

"I knew my brother more than you ever did, Catherine; he was reserved like our father, but he was a man. He had the needs of all men; he would have been unable to resist the temptation to touch your forbidden flesh for five months."

"We fell sick!"

"It was not until the spring when you both fell ill. The wedding was in November... You vehemently deny what happened, but I know the truth. Every true Englishman does!"

Catherine took a step back, looking wounded. "But you asked Pope Julius II for a Papal Dispensation so that you could marry me. You chose me!"

"I did," he nodded his head; his words clearly surprised her. "I did choose you when I ascended the throne when I could have chosen any Princess I desired, but I was young and foolish. I had believed myself to be a chivalrous knight of Camelot rescuing you from the prison from which your father never saved you."

"The prison that your father put me in after Arthur's death!"

Henry shook his head, "That was because your father broke the marriage contract when he refused to pay the dowry to my father. Yet, I overlooked all of the facts. We married after the Pope granted the dispensation, informing me that Popes can act foolishly - and the evidence of that is growing daily. At first, I felt happy with our marriage, my chosen Queen. I loved you, even when my sweet Prince Hal was taken after 52 blessed days. Even during the first miscarriages and stillbirths, I held faith. When Mary was born sickly, I foresaw another dead child following her previous siblings, but she survived; she still lives. Her survival filled me with the hope that my desperately-needed son was to follow," he slowly locked his eyes onto her tear-welling ones. "But my son never came and you know of the rule which all Kings follow, that nature dictates: A healthy, strong son must inherit the throne of power so that the dynastic succession is a smooth one. Only through a son is peace possible. This is not Spain, Catherine. This is England. God has shown me the error of my ways. I now rectify my mistakes from years past so that I can finally have my true son."

A choked gasp left Catherine's thin lips. "And you think that… that whore will- "

"YOU WILL NOT CALL HER THAT!" Henry bellowed, the roar of his words echoing through the room like thunder itself, making Catherine flinch back, blood rapidly draining from her features. "I am the King of England and soon, Lady Anne will be my Queen; you no longer have a say in anything. My true son will be magnificent, the one which Anne will bear me."

"No, no, please," she fell to her knees. "Henry, this is a mistake! Think of Mary, please! I am your lawful wife and your Queen. The Pope has decreed it so!"

Henry frowned, his fury finally showing on his face as he felt his features contort. "The Pope is a fucking fool, and I am thinking of Mary - and England, too. Clement is too blind in fear of your nephew to see that I do what I must to save England. No matter our cursed marriage, Mary is my daughter and a Tudor. I love her, and I will gently help her see the truth that you were never my lawful wife."

Catherine glared up at him, eyes blazing and Henry felt triumph, knowing that if he could push deeper, she would break and he could then finally marry Anne.

She stood back to her feet, "You do not need a son because Mary will be a wonderful Queen- "

"Yes, but not of England, Catherine," he leaned forward. "As I already stated: This is not Spain where Isabella of Castille will rule - it is England, and you should know better than to believe or think that Mary could rule here! I have heard of the lies with which you have been filling Mary's head. I should send you to the Tower for such treasonous actions against my daughter. Do you truly think that she would be accepted as a Queen? Are you as foolish as Elizabeth Barton?" Henry shook his head in disbelief, seeing the flash of his flaming red hair out of the corner of his eyes. "What has history dictated? If you wish to predict the future, Catherine, always look to the past. That was one of my father's greatest lessons. You may now think me heartless, but I have contemplated Mary being my heir and England's first true Queen, but every time when I do, I am reminded of Matilda, the nobility, Mary's fragile health, and the Cousins' War! My father worked furiously for years to unite a stuck-in-war England and I refuse to see it happen again. Mary will not be put on my throne; it goes against nature and would only start another war that would tear England apart forever. My father's dynasty must continue through me and my sons that Anne will birth me. I will not be remembered through history as Henry, the fool who failed to sire a healthy son to keep England together." When he saw her shake her head rapidly in a panic, he continued. "There is also the fact that your nephew would try to use England as a puppet through Mary if she became Queen, probably marrying her off to one of your cousins or great-nephews to purge out the Royal Blood of England, of Lancaster and York, of Plantagenet!"

"No, Carlos would never- "

Henry growled, feeling feral, wanting to claw at his brother's widow's eyes. "You are delusional! Yes, he would because if our roles were reversed, I would do the same - just as any King would to acquire more power, more land! You know nothing of Kingship, of the truths on which it sheds light." He watched dispassionately as Catherine wavered on her feet, horror carved deeply into her sunken flesh. "You have claimed yourself to be a great and merciful Queen who loves England even more than her homeland. Now is your last and final chance to prove it. Are you a Dowager Princess who keeps her word?"

Tears spilled down Catherine's cheeks, but he was unmoved. "What… what do you mean?"

"You will enter a monastery to free me from this cursed marriage."

"I would never! I am your lawful and legitimate wife!"

"If you do not relent, England will be on the brink of a disastrous calamity. As I already said, a dreadful war would erupt across its fertile soil and the blood of innocent men would soak it until all land was stained red if you continue your defiance, if Mary ever becomes Queen. Do you wish to feel the burden of innocent deaths?" Henry loomed over her, seeing her freeze in place, not even able to breathe. "I will rip England apart to marry Anne, Catherine. If you refuse to enter a nunnery, I will break away from the Catholic Church and denounce the Pope as a heretic. Is that your wish?"

"No!"

"Your obstinance has led me to this point. I love Lady Anne and will anger anyone, do anything to elevate her to her rightful position as Queen of England and my wife." Henry tilted his head upward, immovable in his words. "You may think that your nephew will save you, declare war against me, but he will not. Carlos recognizes the power of my Navy; he has nothing comparable to it. I expanded my father's plan and built England's Navy to be greater than any in Christendom, for it will be the future of warfare. The moment I see a Spaniard vessel, the Emperor's entire armada, it will be destroyed. I do not fear your nephew. Do you see? For the good of England, for our daughter whom you claim to love, you must enter a monastery. I would not regret physically forcing you there, either. The chivalrous knight of Camelot is dead; you slew him."

A wail of horror escaped her lips as she fell to her knees haphazardly. "You are your father reborn!"

"Yes... I am my father's son," he nodded his head in agreement and whirled around, marching towards the door. "You have one week to make your decision, Catherine. It is the last of my mercy that you will ever experience. For the good of our daughter and England, you should follow logic and reason. You have spoken of the legacy of your House, of your line. It would be unbecoming for history to remember you as the stubborn liar who caused England to be torn asunder by the fucking Emperor."

The sound of Catherine's sobs diminished in the darkness as Henry exited the room, and he felt victory; he had truly tried and seemed to have broken through to the Dowager Princess of Wales, but even if she continued to remain mulishly foolish, his hands would be clean.

The fate of England rested in her decision, and no one could blame him for what he would do if she refused to enter the nunnery.

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June 1529

Henry re-entered the room and Charles was struck by his friend's eyes that glowed like the flames in the fire, casting a radiance that only belonged to a King anointed by God. Years prior, he had heard of the Duke of Buckingham's plan to murder Henry to seize the throne of England for himself, citing that since he had been a direct descendant of Edward III, his blood was more worthy than Henry's.

Charles had never understood that philosophy, especially since his friend had been put on England's throne by God Himself. The Cousins' War had ended decades earlier and Henry's Royal Blood doubled Buckingham's. Henry VII was the heir to Lancaster when he had killed the duplicitous Richard III and since he married Queen Elizabeth, who was the heir to York, their children's Royal Blood, in essence, doubled because they reunited the House of Plantagenet by becoming the House of Tudor.

Buckingham was only the son of one of Edward IV's sisters-in-law, one of the Woodville's, and had an imperceptible tie to the House of Lancaster. The Duke had deserved to be executed for even thinking that he deserved the throne over Henry and Charles hadn't batted an eye when news of his death echoed; he had thought it fitting.

Now, looking at his best friend as he sat down to grab the Lady Anne's hands, he firmly believed that the eyes were God's way of determining His chosen vessel to rule parts of the Earth that He had created. Henry's eyes were beyond anyone else's, a shine that defied comprehension and Charles had stared into Buckingham's eyes with bold defiance many times - Buckingham had been nothing less than a stain under Henry.

"What did you do?" Lady Anne asked, looking up at Henry with hope. "Will everything be all right?"

His friend's frigid cold features, which reminded him of Henry VII, softened like glacial ice, thawed out by Lady Anne. "My love, I went to visit the Dowager Princess of Wales to convince her to enter a nunnery."

Charles' eyes widened in surprise. "Your Majesty, surely, she must have refused," he knew, firsthand, how righteous and stubborn Queen Catherine was. He was also surprised by Henry's bold strategy, trying to rid himself of whom he had thought to be his wife.

When he had first joined Norfolk to bring down Wolsey to secure himself back in Henry's good graces, he had learned of their ploy to move Lady Anne into Henry's favor for the sole purpose of destroying the Cardinal, how Lady Anne was to manipulate his best friend with emotions of love to see her uncle's hated adversary's demise. Charles had hated it, especially when Henry had, indeed, fallen under Anne Boleyn's spell. It had disgusted him, but he knew that if he attempted to undermine the girl in front of Henry, his King and friend would see it as an absolute betrayal, one from which Charles could never recover.

For a long time, he had known better than anyone of his best friend's need for a legitimate son and heir, but he had never known that Henry would put Queen Catherine aside, humiliating her in the process so that he could marry someone much below his station. Queen Catherine had been kind to Charles ever since he could remember and it had dismayed him to see such a fine and pious woman being slandered by the Boleyns. But Henry's words from earlier had slowly opened his eyes. Princess Mary, although a sweet and beautiful girl, could never be Queen of England alone. It wasn't her destiny; she was to be wed to a foreign Prince or even King and keep the Tudor line strong by bearing her husband sons and beautiful daughters.

Henry needed a healthy son and Queen Catherine had failed him time and time again to deliver him one. The birth of the Duke of Cornwall, little Prince Hal had filled Charles with happiness all of those years ago in 1511 but only 52 days later, the sweet Prince had passed into God's majestic kingdom. Henry had been devastated, the state of England in mourning for an entire year, and Charles had sent his condolences personally to the Queen's servants after drinking a mountain of mead with Henry to help his best friend drown his sorrows.

No other son - although Charles suspected that his friend had sired other bastards - except Henry Fitzroy, the Duke of Richmond and Somerset had been borne to his best friend, and the line of succession was in shambles; the Tudor Dynasty was being questioned by all of Christendom and Charles' eyes were finally open, and he began to see. If Princess Mary, somehow, was Henry's only legitimate child when he, God forbid, passed on, another Cousins' War would rage across England's luscious soil.

Charles' father had died in the Cousins' War, slaughtered by the nephew-killer, Richard III when he proudly stood by Henry Tudor's side as his standard-bearer at the Battle of Bosworth Field. He himself knew firsthand the horrors of war for he had been raised on the stories of it, of the absolute depravity that flooded across England for decades.

It couldn't happen again.

He had firmly, albeit quietly supported Queen Catherine through Henry's Great Matter, but if he wanted England to survive, if he wanted to be a true friend to his King, he must stop his selfish feelings - and he must convince his fiery wife to do the same for his own Mary disliked Anne Boleyn and supported Queen Catherine with a zeal that surpassed anyone else's. When Henry had been married to Queen Catherine all of those years ago, she was older than him by a number of years, her strong and fertile childbearing years already passed by it now seems, but the Lady Anne was young and fertile, and she had an intelligence and wit that, while somewhat impressed Charles, enthralled Henry. The Boleyns were dreadfully ambitious with Norfolk backing them, but if Charles was patient, he could temper Lady Anne's boldness, and secure another powerful friend who would forever keep him tied to Henry, a place where he would never leave if he could help it.

"Aye, Charles, she is mulishly foolish, but I laid out truths for her that she refused to think on." Henry's eyes blazed with contempt, a fierce snarl that was hidden beneath a mask of rigid calm. Charles had been in the presence of Henry VII many a time, and while he had always known that his best friend shared similarities with his winter-like and tax-employing father, he suddenly realized how similar the two Kings actually were. "I should sentence her to the Tower! The temerity of that damn woman! For years, she has been filling Mary's head with lies about how she would be Queen. It only came to my attention through Wolsey and I would have never entitled my daughter the Princess of Wales if I had known that Catherine would use my generosity as an opportunity to turn Mary against me!"

He nodded his head slowly, wondering how much Queen Catherine had poisoned Princess Mary's mind. "There has been whispered talk through the nobility that Princess Mary would rule after…" he couldn't even finish the sentence.

"I know, but I had mistakenly assumed that Catherine and Mary knew better, and as a result, I have made an ass of myself! I was wrong and I fear that Mary has already been turned against me, that Catherine's treacherous words are clawed too deep in her mind." Henry shook his head in disgust, "What a fool I have acted, Charles, what a fucking fool. If I were not King, I would request that you gut me for my intolerable, nonsensical ways." His friend's eyes locked onto Lady Anne's and something in Henry's features changed; it was subtle and most would have not noticed it, but Charles knew his friend better than anyone - although that title was slowly being taken over by Lady Anne. "My love, I see the error of my ways, the outrageous mistakes that have polluted my mind for too long. I have been too trusting in the Pope and Wolsey. My preposterous thoughts will no longer be a hindrance to us being together fully, as we are supposed to be."

Charles knew that Lady Anne felt uncomfortable with him being in their presence, but he was undeterred; rather, he actually felt fascination. Admittedly, he didn't honestly know too much about Henry and Lady Anne's relationship other than that there was a closeness between them that Henry had never shared with Queen Catherine. If he was to be one of the Lady Anne's supporters, one of Henry's supporters in the face of the Pope, he must have knowledge.

"Do you think that Catherine will see reason?" Lady Anne had leaned closer into Henry, "If we are to be married, she cannot be here. You cannot have three people in a marriage," she grabbed one of his friend's hands and brought it to her bosom. She hesitated for a moment and he himself began to feel uncomfortable, recognizing that this was an intimate moment between them; he wouldn't leave though unless Henry asked him to. "My heart is yours and I promise that you will have a son. I will bear you a son beyond any other and history will remember you and him as the father and son who created the golden age." Her eyes shut and pain flashed through her features before it vanished, replaced by determination. "I fear, though, that people work against us. There are those who wish nothing more than for the ancient and barren Catherine to stay by your side."

Henry's eyes ignited and his dark orbs echoed flames of a crackling fire, ravaging his features with vicious intent. "They will be swept away, then."

"To secure our dream of the golden age for our sons - and daughters, too - you must be merciless and uncompromising. The Pope and the Emperor would burn England to the ground to see us destroyed. I know not if France would ally with us."

"Then they will all be destroyed first," his friend had a certain look in his eye and Charles suddenly knew exactly what he was thinking, and he was right when Henry spoke again. "I have a claim to France's throne, even more so than Francois himself!"

"I hope, Your Majesty, that you do not still think of invading France during such a delicate time for your realm."

"What Englishman doesn't?" Henry snapped, eyes glowing with anticipation. "We own France; that throne belongs to me. I have a right to take it back!"

The Lady Anne frowned while Charles prepared himself for words that he had heard for years. "What do you mean, Henry?"

"Francois inherited France's throne through his wife- "

"But Francois could declare the same for your father," Lady Anne pointed out and Charles knew with absolute certainty, at that moment, that Henry was truly in love with Anne Boleyn. Nobody interrupted the King so brazenly without dangerous consequences.

"My father was the heir to the House of Lancaster and won the crown through right of conquest by slaying the Prince-killer, Richard III," his friend countered, "but part of Francois' power comes from his wife - and while he is of France's Royal Blood, his claim is much weaker than my own. My father's grandmother was Catherine of Valois, Henry V's widow, and the daughter of France's, King Charles VI. After Henry V won Agincourt, after he won immortality, Charles VI succeeded the throne of France to his daughter's descendants after she married Henry V. I am of her blood, but Francis is not."

Lady Anne's dark eyes shone with comprehension, "And that does not even take into account your claim through Edward III and parts of the Angevin Empire that King John squandered."

Henry smiled triumphantly, "Exactly. I have a double claim and if Francois does not support me in my decision to marry you and set aside Catherine, I will seize control of France itself, becoming its rightful King! No one will stand in our way in our quest to build the golden age. Our sons will be strong and mighty."

"But what if Queen Catherine refuses to enter the nunnery, Your Majesty?" Charles dared to ask, "If I may be so bold, what will you do?"

"I will break away from Rome and the Pope," his friend declared without hesitation. "While I have always followed the Papacy, it has failed me now, failed England. They weaken my God-given power and if I need to break away, I will. There will be nothing, no force on God's Earth that will stop me from marrying Anne."

The Lady Anne beamed proudly at Henry, a devoted love shining in her eyes. "The King is both Emperor and Pope absolutely in his own kingdom. The King is representative of God on Earth and his law is God's law. The ruler is accountable to God alone and the obedience of his subjects is an obedience required by God. For the Church and the Pope to rule the Princes of Europe is not only a shame above all shames, but an inversion of the divine order; one King, and one law in God's name in every realm."

Charles knew then, at that moment, that things were going to change, that they were going to be different. Looking at his friend, observing the harsh glow of the fire reflected in his eyes, he recognized that Henry was ascending to a higher plane of existence, a place where only God and Kings dwelled. England was going to change, and Charles prayed that with that change, a son and heir would be born to his friend and the Lady Anne, the soon-to-be Queen Anne.

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Well, that's it. I'd love to hear what you think so if you leave a review, I'd really appreciate it.

**Henry VIII is easily the most famous and notorious monarch in English history, maybe even world history. (Richard III's got nothing on him in all honesty.) When he first came to the throne after Henry VII's death, he was hailed as the opposite of his cold father, but it's plain to see that as he aged, he resembled his father more and more. In my opinion, Henry VII's story is fascinating and extraordinary, and I think that Henry VIII would understand that as he grew older and ran into problems with his inability to produce a male heir. Both Kings were ruthless and their tempers were legendary, Henry VIII's more so, but his father's was terrible, too. Henry VIII, in this story, is beginning to realize that he must act more like his father if he is to succeed in marrying Anne Boleyn.

In case you were confused, Arthur Plantagenet was a bastard son of King Edward IV, sister of Elizabeth of York and thus, the uncle of Henry VIII. I don't think that he's even mentioned in the show unless he's the uncle who dies in the first episode, but in real history, he was a prominent figure in Henry VIII's court. Arthur lived to be 81 or 82 years of age which is incredible in his era.

**Okay, Henry seriously comes down on Catherine and lays out several key truths. I do think that Catherine of Aragon wasn't a virgin when she married Henry VIII because she and Arthur, the Prince of Wales had been married for five months, which is a lot of time to consummate. Add in the fact that Arthur, on record, stated to a servant named Anthony Willoughby: "Willoughby, bring me a cup of ale, for I have been this night in the midst of Spain." Later, in front of many others, he declared: "Masters, it is good pastime to have a wife." With them being teenagers, and with Catherine's father Ferdinand and Henry VII butting heads on the marriage dowry, it was imperative that they consummate it, so I honestly think that they did. If you don't agree with me, that's completely fine and I understand. It's been a hotly-debated topic for centuries!

Many of Catherine of Aragon's actions, at least to me, don't honestly make sense. She inherently knows that a son and heir is what Henry needs, what England needs, and since the Tudor Dynasty was so young, with the Wars of the Roses, which is called the Cousins' War in the story because that's how it was thought back then, fresh in the minds of England and other countries, it was imperative that Henry VIII have a legitimate son and heir. Instead of stepping down as previous Queens had down when they had had trouble bearing healthy sons, - Eleanor of Aquitaine was Queen of France for many years but never sired any sons and then after the annulment, she married Henry II of England where she did succeed in having sons - Catherine stubbornly refused and ultimately caused the Reformation to freely become the founding religion in England. (The Reformation would have happened anyway at a later time, but Catherine of Aragon's actions did not help to keep England under the Papacy one bit; her actions and decisions made it much worse, especially when Henry VIII realized that he could get his annulment to marry Anne Boleyn if he denounced the Pope and Papacy.)

She should also know that England would not accept a female ruler, especially with the Wars of the Roses still fresh, like her mother was accepted as ruler in Castille. Yes, England did accept Mary I and Elizabeth I as rulers, but they were the last options, the last-ditch hail mary attempt to keep the Tudor Dynasty alive. From what I've read, Princess Mary was a sickly child and her health was fragile, and Catherine knew this. I don't understand, and maybe that's my fault, why Catherine would fill her daughter's head with lies about her becoming Queen of England. (I don't know if Catherine filled Mary's head with lies like that in real history, but it happened in the show for certain.)

**Lastly, Charles Brandon undergoes a bit of a change. His character in the TV show never made sense to me, just the way he had acted against the Boleyns - which, to me, seemed like a sudden change in Season Two. I think that he supported Catherine of Aragon because his wife, Queen Mary Tudor of France did and because Catherine had been kind to him. Charles should know better than anyone how desperately Henry VIII, his best friend wants and needs a male heir. If he was a true friend, he would have supported Henry VIII in his quest to marry Anne Boleyn instead of attempting to undermine her and leading to her demise. (There's also clearly a rivalry between Anne and Charles because they each seek Henry's affections, and while Charles won in history, this is different.) I also think that his wife after Queen Mary Tudor of France contributed heavily towards his hatred for Anne, but that's my thought.

In fact, as it was mentioned in the actual story, Charles Brandon's father was killed in the Wars of the Roses by Richard III. He knew how depraved war was, what one could lose, yet he was willing to risk Princess Mary becoming Queen instead of Henry siring a son with Anne Boleyn. (I'm not saying that a woman can't rule; it's been proven that women can rule, too. What I mean is that during this era in time, it was blasphemous to think of a woman ruling a country as its absolute monarch.) That makes no sense whatsoever. Sure, you can throw in politics and emotions of hatred and bitterness towards Anne Boleyn, but he should recognize how disastrous it would be if another war swept through England as contenders for the throne duked it out.

I'm sure that most of you know about Henry VIII's claim to France's throne, but I'm going to fully explain it. Henry VIII, through his bloodline, has at least two claims to France's throne, one solely through his father's side, and one through both his father - Lancaster - and his mother - York. As was stated in the story, Henry VII's grandmother was Catherine of Valois, widow of Henry V, one of England's great warrior Kings. Catherine was the mother of the mad Henry VI, Edmund Tudor (Henry VII's father), and Jasper Tudor. After Henry V won the Battle of Agincourt, the French King, Charles VI agreed that all of his daughter's children, whom he thought would also be through Henry V, would become the next-in-line to France's throne after Charles VI died. In fact, when he was just a young boy after his father and grandfather died, Henry VI was hailed as the King of England and France. It goes without saying that Henry VI lost all claims because of his madness, but Catherine of Valois gave birth to the Tudors through Owen Tudor, thus leading to Henry VIII's claim through his father alone. That doesn't even take into account the ancestral lands that he could technically claim from the Angevin Empire that King John I of England lost. At that point, I believe it was something like 65% of more of France actually belonged to the English Kings through their blood inheritances.

Henry VIII's other claim comes through King Edward III, and this was one of the main instigators of the Hundred Years War. You see, in 1328, Charles IV of France died without any sons or brothers to inherit the French throne, but he did have a nephew in England's Edward III through his sister, Isabelle of France, AKA the She-Wolf of France. France's Salic Laws forbid such an inheritance and the House of Valois came to power instead of Edward III and the House of Plantagenet. This is why the Kings of England for centuries claimed themselves the Kings of France, and this was the claim that Henry V used to demand the French throne after the Battle of Agincourt; it's also the second claim of Henry VIII since his bloodline, through both his mother and father, stems from Edward III.

All right, I think that's everything. I hope you all enjoyed it, and please leave a review to tell me what you thought. I'd really appreciate it!

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