Author's Note: This is the result of an idea that popped in my head one day while watching the Tudors. Some parts are largely influenced by conversations I've held with a friend of mine concerning Anne and Elizabeth. I'm not yet sure how long this will be - or how long it will take me to complete this, but at the moment I'm expecting four chapters. There are a lot of scenes borrowed from the Tudors and Elizabeth, as well as Elizabeth: the Golden Age. I really hope you enjoy this.

"To everything there is a season and a time to every purpose under heaven. A time to be born, and a time to die. A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted. A time to weep, and a time to laugh. A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together. A time to mourn, and a time to dance. That which hath been is now. And that which is to be has already been. A time to get, and a time to lose. A time to keep, and a time to cast away. A time to rend, and a time to sew. A time to keep silence, and a time to speak. I said in my heart, God shall judge the righteous and the wicked, for there is a time for every purpose under the sun."
-Queen Anne's Almoner
-the Tudors

"Madam, the hour approaches, you must make ready."

So, it was time, then? It was time for her to go to her death, to rid her husband of loving - but no longer wanted wife. It was strange, ironic even, that things had come to this. Anne turned to face Master Kingston slowly, taking a composing breath before saying, "Acquit yourself of your charge, for I have been long prepared."

She was not lying; it was true that she was ready for death, that she welcomed it. Her last days had not been kind to her and Anne rather liked the idea of being rid of her pain. The only grievance that remained was that her daughter Elizabeth should have to reach her prime without a mother. Her daughter was likely to never become the Queen of England, as was her birthright, simply because her father had tired of her mother and wished to take a new bride.

"He will tire of you, like all the others."

When the late Princess Dowager had told Anne this, she had not believed her. Henry loved her, he wanted to marry her; what cause should he have to tire of her? But now Anne knew what a fool she had been; Henry didn't love, he lusted. The only thing that Henry loved, aside from himself, was the touch of a woman. He could convince himself otherwise, but the whole world knew and now, after nearly a decade of ignorance, so did Anne.

This painful realization should have made her love him less but, to her extreme displeasure, it did not.

"The King asks that you take this purse," Master Kingston said, holding a small, leather satchel for her to take. "It has twenty pounds in it, to pay the headsman for his services and distribute alms to the poor."

Anne covered the little distance between them and said, with little thought to her words or actions, "Thank you."

Master Kingston did not seemed enthused about his duty, but nonetheless commanded in an inquisitive manner, "Will you and your ladies follow me?"

She turned to her Almoner and nodded, silently signaling for him to go ahead of her. Turning the other direction, she received a Bible that one of her ladies had been holding for her, which would be handed to her Almoner whilst on the scaffold. And then, together, they exited the chambers that had been her prison in her last weeks - she was glad to be rid of them. Master Kingston led her through the familiar corridors and out into Tower Green. It was a quiet, solemn walk, not a person daring to speak for fear of offending her or disrupting the peace she seemed to possess. In her head, Anne was going over the speech she had rehearsed over and over, even before she had learned of her fate, to make sure she had it absolutely perfect. If she was to die, she would do so with the utmost composure and grace. She would not embarrass herself, or her family, any more than she already had. She would say nothing against the King, for doing so was likely to put consequence on her daughter and she could not allow that to happen.

They exited the Tower and instantly Anne's ears were flooded with noise. It was as deafening sound, the sound of many voices collaborating to form one annoying buzz that made Anne increasingly uncomfortable. What if she faltered, or fainted? Sighing deeply, she walked up the steps leading into the Tower Green. Many people were gathered to watch her death, shouting in their anticipation. As she walked through the crowd, some looked on with pity and bid God to bless her, while others stared with emotionless faces, as if they were afraid to let their true opinions be known lest they be condemned as well. Some made the figure of the cross before them, reaching out to touch her gown. It seemed ironic to her that the people who had refused to acknowledge her as their Queen had become sympathetic, supportive even, of her in the hour of her death.

When she finally reached the scaffold, she paused at the bottom of the steps, almost succumbing to the temptation of running, grabbing Elizabeth, and escaping to France, but she knew she'd never make it and that no good would come from it if she made an attempt. Henry was likely to order the executions of both her and her daughter; he had a knack for being unforgiving like that.

And so she climbed the steps that led to the scaffold, to her death.

It amused her that the first thing she should notice upon standing on the scaffold, able to see crowd gathered in the Green, was the Duke of Suffolk, Charles Brandon, and his son Edward. It was just like Henry to order his friend to attend his wife's execution. Suffolk had never liked her and would report every word Anne said to His Majesty, no doubt. Well, I shan't give him much complaint! she thought to herself, knowing the words she had prepared to say would not provide evidence to condemn any more innocent people in her name.

"Master Kingston, I pray you not give the signal for my death until I have spoken what I have in mind to speak," she requested, turning to face her jailor with such an earnestly that he would not deny her.

He inclined his head, granting her wish, "Madam."

Without saying another word, she turned to face the crowd once more, stepping forward slightly, and waited for the idle murmurs to dissolve into silence. And then she spoke.

"Good Christian people, I have come here to die according to the law and thus yield myself to the will of the King, My Lord. And if, in my life, I ever did offend the King's Grace, surely with my death I do now atone. I pray and beseech you all to pray for the life of the King, my Sovereign Lord and yours, who is one of the best Princes on the face of the Earth, who has always treated me so well. Wherefore I submit to death for the goodwill, humbly asking pardon of all the world. If anyone should take up my case, I ask them only to judge it kindly. "

She turned back to her ladies, who then stepped forward to help remove her jewelry and other items that would hinder the swordsman. When they finished removing her effects and placing a coif carefully upon her head, she thanked her ladies and they exited the scaffold, each one in tears. The headsman approached her with careful steps, kneeling on the scaffold beside her.

"Madame, forgive me for what I must do."

Though she knew that, out of courtesy, he was required to say this her, Anne felt in her heart that this man begging her forgiveness truly meant his words. It was apparent that he did not relish in the thought of ending the life of a Queen.

Kindly, but solemnly she responded, "Gladly. And here is your purse."

She stretched her arm down to him, handing him the satchel that Master Kingston had given her in her chambers. He received it, motioning for her to kneel before the crowd and stuffing the satchel in his boot.

She returned her attention to now the quiet and somber crowd, and finished, "Thus I take my leave of the world and of you, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me."

It warmed her heart to the smallest degree to hear some murmurs of blessing throughout the crowd, half-hearted though they may be. Kneeling, she took a deep, long breath, closed her eyes, and began to pray, "Lord Jesus receive my soul. O Lord God have pity on my soul. To Christ I commend my soul. Jesus Christ receive my soul. O Lord God have pity on my soul…"

She felt the footsteps of the swordsman and she prepared herself for the blow she knew would come, but was surprised when she felt the swordsman's hand gently brush against her forehead, pushing loose hair under her coif.

Feeling the need to say something, she turned to him and said, "Thank you."

Anne continued praying, but found herself unable to close her eyes and avoid seeing the sword come at her. She found it strange that she would be incapable of doing so, that she would apparently rather see her death before it struck. She tried to continue with her prayers, but she was finding herself increasingly anxious and uncomfortable. No matter how hard she tried, she could not bring herself to not look at the swordsman.

"Boy! Fetch my sword!"

The sudden voice jolted Anne from her concentration and instantly her head jerked in the direction of the boy who supposedly had the sword. Birds taking flight above distracted her and she watched on with amazement at such a sight, no matter how simple. And then she felt nothing, only peace.