Author's Note: Hello everyone, this is my first piece of writing on fanfiction. Constructive criticism is welcome. I apologize for any OOC-ness and any possible suckiness. This is also probably a little AU. I've only seen the part where Anne Boleyn was executed - not the rest of the episode and what happened after. This is my second time writing this one-shot due to some errors on the first try. This story takes place after Anne's execution, but before the Henry's marriage to Jane. The Edward in the story is Edward Brandon.

Disclaimer: I do not own The Tudors.

*~*~*Bow Down to the King*~*~*

May 19th, 1536: Whitehall Castle

(Henry's POV)

The page comes in and bows before me. Even since I was a young boy I enjoyed people bowing to me.

"His Grace, the Duke of Suffolk, requests an audience with you." I smiled slightly at seeing the sight of my beloved friend.

"Send him in." The page bowed again, muttering "Your Majesty" before exiting to sending Charles in.

"Your Majesty," he said bowing down. Charles bowing down to me never made me smile unless I was angry with him. I stood up quickly and went over to greet my best friend with a brotherly hug.

"Charles, my good friend," I said before noticing the small young boy with curly hair, "and Edward Brandon, too! Hello child, are you enjoying court?"

The boy looked at me, his eyes mixed between awe and fear. "Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good," I smiled and turned my attention to Charles, "Please sit down."

"Thank you, Majesty." I quirked an eyebrow. Charles only called thanks me for every little gesture when he fears I might me angry with him.

"So tell me Charles," I begin hospitably, "Is the witch dead?" Charles fidgeted nervously.

"Papa," little Edward Brandon asked, "was the lady who died today a witch?"

Nervousness filled my friend's brown orbs. "Yes Edward," he said with a tone of finality and anxiety. Those two words didn't satisfy the young child's curiosity.

"But she seemed like a nice lady. And aren't witches supposed to be bad?" The father bounced his knee, which his son had promptly sat on when I gave Charles the luxury to sit down on a chair in my presence.

"That's because she is, er, was a bad lady," Charles said with the same anxious tone as before.

"But is she seemed nice. Everyone bowed to her even you papa!" Edward protested. My face instantly turned red with rage.

"What!" I screamed. Charles face immediately turned fearful.

"Edward, wait outside," he ordered. The young boy must've seen my rage because he fled the room without any questions.

"What? They bow to the woman that for the past ten years they've called "The Great Whore," "The Concubine," and "Witch?" Why?" Charles opened to say something that might pacify me, but closed his mouth immediately when I turned an accusing finger at him.

"And you! You are my best friend Charles! And you bowed to the woman who tore England in half? The woman who you've hated yourself for these past few years! The woman whom I loved with every fiber of my being, who then betrayed me! Why?"

"B-b-because."

" 'B-b-because' what?" I mocked coldly.

"Because she must've put a spell on me and the rest of the spectators." My flushed red face calmed down before turning back to it normal coloring.

"Yes," I pondered looking out the window, "That makes perfect sense," I could've sworn I saw Charles breathe a sigh of relief.

"Well? What are you still standing here for?" He looked at me imploringly. "You and your family are banished from court."

He bowed his head before bowing low to the ground. "Your Majesty."

"And Charles," I announced before he left, " I expect you back at Whitehall on Monday."

"Yes Your Majesty. Thank you, Majesty," Charles said before leaving the room.

"Damn curious young children! Damn Charles Brandon for bowing to the Whore! And, Damn you Anne!" I screamed kicking the foot of the table. All this talk of Anne is giving me a headache. I need my virtuous maiden, my milk and honey Jane.

(Charles's POV)

"Edward, what are you doing?" I asked annoyedly, glaring at the page who was scolding my son.

"I was trying to hear the rest of the King's conversation with you by listening through the key hole, Papa," He explained. I sighed, already worn out by the day's events. At least now I can relax with my beloved wife at Suffolk.

"Come along Edward. We are going home where your mother and I will discuss your punishment for eavesdropping," I said, grabbing my boy and dragging him down a corridor, not before shooting an apologetic glance at the page.

"But Papa!" Edward whined. I pinched the bridge of my nose.

" 'But Papa' what?"

"I didn't hear anything!" I rolled my eyes.

"Then your mother and I are going to discuss you punishment for attempting to eavesdrop."

"Papa?" Edward asked.

"What now?"

"Why did that lady die?"

"She died because she committed a sin against God." I mentally snorted. More like she committed a sin against Henry for not bearing him a son.

"What sin did she commit?"

"She practiced witchcraft, committed adultery, incest, and high treason."

"Oh," Edward sighed, "Do you think she actually did all of those things because I don't. I think she's innocent." I grabbed his hand roughly pulling him into the carriage.

"Edward that is treasonous talk."

"But Papa, what do you think?" I looked my son in the eyes before thinking my answer out carefully.

"I think," I replied slowly, "I think that she was innocent of all charges placed against her but two unspoken ones."

"Which two were those?" He asked.

"Not bearing the king a son and being alive when the king wanted to take another wife who would give him a son." My little boy looked confused.

"How are those sins and crimes?"

"Edward, I don't know." I may not have like Anne Boleyn when she was alive, but I couldn't help the feeling that she was innocent.

Even though I may now think that she is innocent, I'm glad that the Anne Boleyn chapter in the book of our lives is finally over. Maybe this "milk and honey" Jane Seymour, "the virtuous maiden," will make everything better.

Stupid Henry; Does he not know that in court, no one is virtuous. That no one is as they appear to be. Has he not learned from Anne Boleyn?

I heard a female voice whisper in my ear, "Only time will tell." I looked around in the carriage trying to see who spoke. I looked out the window and saw Anne Boleyn, carrying her head under her arm.

"Only time will tell," the head whispered again. I cringed and shivered in disgust and fear.

"Be careful Charles Brandon, tragedies await," she whispered again before walking, er, floating away. Just as the shade had exited the carriage, the headless body turned around.

"Thank you," she whispered. I'm going crazy, I thought to myself, but I couldn't help asking one last question.

"Why are you thanking me?" Anne Boleyn's head rolled its mesmerizing blue eyes.

"Because you bowed to me at the execution. You finally gave me some respect," she explained. I immediately felt a wave of guilt wash over me. I was the one who had told Henry about the rumors of Anne's behavior. She shouldn't be thanking me; she should probably be cursing me to the heavens!

Her hand touched my shoulder, "I forgive you," she whispered one last time before entirely fading away, but before giving one last final smile-smirk.

I was about to ask where she was going, but I think I knew. It wasn't hell that's for sure: she had proved to be a good woman, albeit too late, but a good woman in the least. Yes, for sure it was heaven.

"Papa," Edward asked, "Who are you talking too?" I sighed.

"No one Edward," I lied.

I rested my head against the window of the carriage and closed my eyes tiredly. I'm getting too old for this.

Author's Note: I decided to leave Anne as a headless ghost because to play on the stories of her haunting the Tower of London as a headless ghost carrying her head under her arm. Thank you to Melody for the constructive criticism and for telling me about the POV confusion. I hope I made a better second first impression if that makes any sense.