Twists of Fate

Description: Fate twists and turns in mysterious ways – constantly changing. What would have happened if Katherine had died of the sweat in 1528? Henry would be free to marry Anne without having to break from the Church, tear his country apart, disinherit his daughter Mary, or be forced to execute his subjects for the Order of Succession.

A/N: I've been re-watching the series now that it's over and my husband is deployed and this idea sparked into my head when I finished watching episode 7 of the first season. Just exactly how different could history have been? The possibilities are endless. The story will stick with the characterizations of the show and how their appearances were portrayed. Since Elizabeth Boleyn was never mentioned on the series or featured to my knowledge, for the purposes of this story she will have died when Anne was a young child. I am putting Anne's birth date in 1507, instead of the 1501 date that has been debated amongst historians, making her the youngest of the Boleyn siblings. This is my first attempt at writing fan fiction and I am fairly excited over it.

Twists of Fate: Chapter One

March 1528

Whitehall, London

London was beginning to recover from the pestilence of the sweating sickness, and the massive devastation it had wrought upon the city. People were returning to their homes, and to court but the lasting effects of what the sickness had done would reverberate forever. Whole families were wiped out; cemeteries were full of the victims the sweat had claimed.

King Henry VIII sat in his chambers at his personal desk, his ornate dressing robe draped loosely upon his shoulders. Candles burned to keep the bedroom a light, creating a soft glow on the monarch's face. In his hands he continued to fumble with the seal on a letter that had just been delivered to him that morning. With shaky hands, he reread the letter again for the hundredth time.

Your Majesty,

It is with my most humble regret that I have to inform you that her beloved majesty, Queen Katherine, has died this evening after contracting the sweat two days prior on her journey to Wales. Her majesty went to her death bravely, with every ounce of dignity befitting her station in life.

Her highness, the Princess of Wales, has not contracted the sweat by the grace of God and remains as always a credit to your Majesty and to the late Queen and a steadfast servant to the Lord.

Your humble servant,

Thomas Moore

Henry folded the letter back to its original shape and placed it neatly upon his desk. A rush of emotions and thoughts raced through his brain. He had thought that when God had first cursed England with this terrible disease several weeks ago that it was his personal disfavor against Henry, and that perhaps it was punishment for seeking a divorce against Katherine. This seemed to be especially true when both Wolsey and Anne became ill, but now it was clear to him that that was not the case.

Wolsey and Anne had both survived, and now Katherine was dead. It was now clear to Henry that God was on his side, that Katherine must have been struck down for her failure to yield to her King's commands, and by lying about her first marriage and the circumstances surrounding it.

If only she had admitted that our marriage was invalid, Henry thought. Then maybe she would have been spared from the scourge of sickness to live out a pious life in a nunnery, instead of being punished for her wickedness with her life. I am free from her lies, free from her barrenness of heirs and free from the sham of a life I had lived with her. Now I can remarry – now I can have sons.

Hever Castle, Kent

Anne Boleyn sat in front of the mirror in her childhood quarters, staring at her reflection in the candlelight. Dressed in a simple chemise, her dark curls hung loosely about her body. Her skin was pale, her cheeks colorless, and the eyes that constantly danced with fire seemed to have no spark behind them. The sweating sickness had ravaged her body for days, leaving her in a state between life and death, and she was just well enough now a few weeks later to get up and move about. It had seemed to drain everything out of her.

She thought of her past few weeks of confinement. She must have read Henry's letters to her throughout their relationship and her illness over and over. It was the only way she felt close to him while being separated by sickness. She longed for his touch upon her skin, his mouth pressed to hers. Oh how I never intended to fall in love with him, Anne thought as she smirked at her reflection.

George, her older brother, had spent almost every day in her room since she had escaped from the clutches of the disease trying to lift her spirits. They played cards with her maids, he would bring new books and read selections aloud of her, and they would share laughs and gossip about those at court. He had obviously been very shaken by her close brush with death, as they were extremely close siblings having only been three years apart in age and he was still scared from their mother's death when he was only seven. He just couldn't lose his baby sister. Mary, her older sister by eight years, had been a more maternal figure to her rather than a sister figure since their mother had died seventeen years ago.

The sound of horse hooves drew her away from the mirror and over to the window. It was too late at night to have visitors to Heaver, as the clock was almost midnight. Two messengers, dressed in the King's livery, were fast approaching the castle. Anne quickly pulled on her robe around her body and rushed out of her chambers.

Finding her way down the staircase into the entry hall Anne was not surprised to find her father, Thomas Boleyn, already waiting for the approaching horsemen. Ever since she had been drafted by the family into winning the King's affection her father often had spies and lookouts posted to warn him of any messengers or notice from Henry. He briefly glanced up at her, almost dismissive with his gaze.

"You have no business being out of your rooms with your health still being so precarious. Do you want to put at risk, yet again, everything we've worked so hard for?" Thomas's words cut at her.

"No papa. The sound of the horses woke me from my restless sleep and I knew that it must be something of great importance at this hour." Anne had to lie to her father, as she knew he would make her maids keep a better watch on her if he knew she was still up this late.

As soon as the words escaped her lips, the messengers from the King were escorted into Hever Castle by Boleyn servants.

"Lord Rochford, I apologize for the lateness of our visit. We have a very important message from the King for Lady Anne. We have also been commanded to tell you that your family is requested at court as soon as travel is safe for the Lady". The taller of the two messengers stepped forward with a letter bearing the King's seal and handed it to Anne.

Anne readily took parchment from the messenger, wasting no time in breaking the seal and unfolding its contents. Lord Rochford looked on at his daughter. He always liked to be the first to read the correspondence between the King and Anne but dared not intercept the letter while the messengers were still standing there; waiting to see if the Lady had a reply.

My dearest Anne,

It is with all of my heart that I hope this letter finds you well and recovering quickly. It is my feverent hope that we can soon be together for all time, and God has smiled upon on this day.

Katherine is dead, having been struck down by the sweat on her journey to Wales.

It is my greatest wish that you return to court as soon as you are well, and that after the customary days of mourning, that you become my wife and queen.

Know that I desire and love you above all others,

Henry

Her hands began to tremble as she finished reading the letter, her heart racing. Thomas continued to stare at her, wondering what could be in the letter if it was garnering such a reaction from his normally composed daughter.

"Well child, what is it?" His voice sounded almost to crack, a quick lapse of the strength of all his planning.

Anne breathed deeply and stared up from the letter and to her father. "Katherine is dead. I am going to be Queen of England". And suddenly the fire that had been missing from her eyes since her illness sparked into a great blaze of light.