Checkmate

This begins directly after Henry leaves Anne in the woods, and is AU from there.

Anne dressed herself numbly and heaved herself back onto her horse, outraged at her lover for leaving her so cruelly in the middle of a darkening forest. She was alone and unprotected. How was Henry to know that nothing would happen to her?

He had been selfish enough to leave her without an escort or a guard; surely he would not care if she never returned?

She should ride away into the sunset and never return to court, never return to the man who had caused her to give in to her lust. She had shamed herself deeply, copulating with a man in the open air of a forest, where anybody could wander and catch them.

Once mounted comfortably on her horse, Anne felt a thick feeling of wetness at the apex of her thighs. In that moment, she knew that the coitus interruptus had been unsuccessful, and then she smiled the way a woman smiles when the world is hers.

...

When the King arrived back at court, he was furious – both with himself and Anne.

He knew exactly who deserved to bear the brunt of his anger, and so stormed through the palace to the Queen's rooms. He was shocked to find her drunk and weeping. Never, in almost twenty years of marriage, had he seen her so inebriated. She was a Godly woman, he thought with a sneer, a woman who preferred to love God rather than deliver her husband sons.

"Katherine?" He asked her softly, his anger ebbing away as he appraised her.

She did not turn to acknowledge him, and took a drink from the golden goblet she clutched in her right hand. "Henry. Where is your whore?" Her voice was amused and cold.

Henry frowned. "You will not show your back when talking to your King, madam. People have been beheaded for doing less."

"Then behead me!" Katherine replied humorlessly. "Behead me for the end of my life is nigh and I do not wish to suffer."

"Do not be ridiculous, Katherine," Henry barked at her. "You are not yet fifty."

"Do not preach to me about my age when you have seen fit to forgo my person for that of someone more than twenty years younger than I!"

Henry blanched. "Katherine-"

"Send her from court! I demand it! Her mere presence mocks me!" Katherine cried, falling to the floor at Henry's feet.

"I shall not!" Henry shouted in reply. "You speak foolish words, Katherine! You are ill with drink!"

Katherine laughed a manic laugh from the floor. "Yes, Henry! Yes! I am ill! You deprive me of your love because you love another, and so yes! I am ill!" Her laughter stopped and her eyes filled with tears. "I am ill," she repeated quietly, seriously. "They thought I was with child. My courses stopped. My belly swelled. But now they tell me that a tumour has poisoned the child, and that I am to die an early death." Her voice broke on the last word and Katherine took another large drink out of her goblet.

Henry glared at her for a moment before helping her to her feet. "You must sleep, Katherine."

...

It had been eleven long days since their copulation in the woods, and Henry had not seen hide nor hair of Anne. He now regretted leaving her vulnerable and alone, and, rather than anger, felt incredible guilt and shame for taking her maidenhead so roughly and outside, rather than in a bed and as his wife as she deserved.

There had been rumours that Anne had left the court, that the King had lost interest in her and that she had fallen in love with a musician, Henry had laughed at that one, but he was most certainly not laughing when he saw her on the eighteenth day.

She looked beautiful. Her dress was a deep jade green and the cut emphasised the swell of her pretty breasts. Her dark hair was pinned back from her face, but the curls fell thickly around her shoulders and down her back to her small waist.

He watched enviously as Anne danced on the arm of a man he had not been introduced to. The man possessed a certain disorganisation about his appearance – Henry supposed he was an artist or a musician of some sort; those types were easy to recognise. The King frowned as an unwilling thought passed through his mind; perhaps she had fallen in love with a musician?

As if he had called her name, Anne caught his eye and stared levelly at him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow when he smiled at her. She looked away as if she had not seen him and led her partner from the dance floor. The man poured her a drink and she laughed her musical laugh, glancing up again as she felt Henry's eyes on her.

He did not smile this time. Anne raised her goblet and met his gaze. "To his Majesty," she said loudly over the music, smirking at Henry when the toast was echoed around the room. Her expression was mocking as she took a long look at him, not drinking from her goblet but setting it on the table and exiting the room.

The King stood and hastily followed her, edging his way around dancing courtiers in a belated effort to avoid attention. She was stood, waiting for him, at the end of a corridor, her back arched as she leaned against a wall.

"Majesty," she greeted him in a murmur, smirking at the lust in his eyes.

"Where were you?"

"Hever," she replied coolly. "I wasn't aware that I would be missed," she added on the end, almost mocking him in her tone.

Henry took her hand, his eyes grazing up her body. "I missed you," he said quietly, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. Anne sighed in spite of herself and turned her head so that he could capture her mouth. She cupped his cheek in her palm and kissed him deeply, smiling against his lips when he wrapped his arms around her waist. She slowly turned them around so that he was the one against the wall, and he groaned as she pressed herself into him, taking control of the kiss and of him.

Her tongue found his and she arched her back when he tangled his fingers in her dark curly hair.

Anne lowered her mouth to his ear and nibbled on it lightly, smirking when she heard Henry's moan. The King moved his hands to her rear and squeezed, and Anne kissed his neck lovingly before he tilted her chin up so that he could look at her.

"I am sorry," he whispered against her lips. "I am sorry if I offended you."

"Your Majesty..."

He cut her off with a kiss. "Come. I wish to tell you something."

Anne gazed at him with a smile, waiting for him to continue as he took her arm and began to lead her back to the banquet hall.

"The Archbishop of Canterbury is dead. We will soon be free to marry." Henry waited for her response in anticipant silence, and grinned when she let out a peal of delighted laughter.

"Do you mean it?"

"Yes."

"My God." She threw her arms around his neck and laughed again as he picked her up like she was his bride. He carried her into the hall and set her down in the middle, quieting the musicians as he raised a hand.

"Play volta!"

The two danced to the music, their bodies moving together to the rhythm as the rest of the court watched in an entranced silence. Nobody could dispute that Anne and Henry were indeed a handsome couple.

At the end of the song, Henry kissed Anne passionately, much to the shock of the people watching.

"I love you," he murmured against her skin.

"As I love you," Anne replied with a happy smile on her face. Henry again began to speak, but Anne's voice cut him off. "Majesty," she said shortly, curtseying towards the entrance of the banquet hall. Her action was followed by the rest of the court as an uneasy blanket of quiet smothered the previously light atmosphere.

Henry followed her eyes and frowned when he saw his wife standing there. "Katherine?"

Katherine was in her nightgown, her hair in disarray, and her eyes were too bright. She had a smile on her face and a golden goblet in her hand. Two of her ladies stood behind her, distressed looks on their faces. "Henry! Henry, I wish to speak with you."

Her voice was slightly slurred and she swayed where she stood. Katherine looked around the room as if she had suddenly realised where she was. She reached up a hand to straighten her hair and blushed. Henry was glaring at her and Anne had a bemused look on her face.

"Ah, I see you are busy with your mistress," Katherine said bitterly, raising her glass into the air. "To the Mistress Anne, may she be more fortunate than her predecessors."

Henry was beside her in an instant, his strong hand grasping her arm as he pulled her from the large, silent banquet hall. "You shame yourself, madam," he hissed at her through gritted teeth, releasing her once they reached her bed chamber. "You shame yourself and your daughter."

Katherine glared at him for a moment and then threw her goblet into a corner of the room. "I shame our daughter? I am your wife, Henry, I am the woman you should love and desire, not that harlot!"

There was a soft knock on the door and Katherine narrowed her eyes when Anne entered. "You dare to come here? Here, to my chambers? You mock me and show me disrespect by being here... You, my husband's whore."

"I am no whore," Anne said coldly.

"You will address me with respect," Katherine spat at her, pointing a finger accusingly. "You will show me the respect I am entitled to as Queen of England!"

Anne gazed at her, her eyes appraising the older woman levelly. "But lately you do not act like a Queen, madam."

Katherine took a step towards her and Anne stood her ground. Henry stepped between them both. "Katherine! Enough!" He shot Anne a look of caution, and she narrowed her eyes at him in return.

Katherine seemed to break at this, and crumbled to the floor. She let out a wail and wrapped her arms around herself. "You defend your whore when your wife requires you to be valiant. You hide me away like I am a dirty secret, like I am the whore. I have been a good wife, Henry, a good wife, and yet you treat me with such disdain... I do not deserve this, surely. Surely you love, Henry, surely your heart wants me still?"

Henry stared at her. "You will retire from court."

"You did not answer her question," Anne said suddenly, her face pale and her eyes empty.

"Because it is such a ridiculous question that it requires no answer," Henry snapped in reply, and Anne glared at him.

"Methinks you doth protest too much, Majesty," She murmured, glancing at Katherine who was watching this exchange in fascination. "Do you still love her?"

"Yes," Henry mumbled, his face flushing.

Anne inhaled sharply. "Oh."

Seeing her distress, Henry grasped her hands in his and stared into her eyes. "But as a sister. As the wife of my brother. Not my own."

Katherine scoffed. "Yet you desired me enough that we conceived children, many of them, and declared your love for me often." Her voice became soft and dangerous. "You lie, Henry; you love me still, but your lust for your whore has forced you to deny it."

Henry struggled desperately for words, and glanced at Anne, who seemed to shrink before his very eyes, and she stepped backwards. "Excuse me, your Majesties. I find myself suddenly feeling rather unwell." She walked quickly from the room before either of them could stop her, ignoring Henry as he called her name. Anne glared at Katherine's ladies, who eyed her with mutual distaste, and once she was out of the Queen's royal rooms, ran for her family's chambers.

She burst through the doors, startling her Uncle Norfolk, her brother George and her father. "I must leave court at once," she pled in a desperate voice, crumpling in a heap on the floor.

The three men leapt to their feet, alarmed by this unusual display of emotion from Anne. "Anne," George asked her softly, kneeling beside her and brushing her hair back from her face. "What is it?"

"He loves her still, George," she said in a strangled voice. "He loves the Queen."

Norfolk pulled Anne to her feet and guided her to a chair. "What is the matter, Anne? What is it?"

Slow tears began to trickle down Anne's face as she explained everything to them – not including what had occurred in the woods – and she leaned her head in her hands on the table. "I need to leave court, father," she whispered, her eyes red and her face pale. "Please. I beg you."

Her father took Anne in his arms and nodded, his worried gaze finding Norfolk's calculating one.

"You will go to Grimston," Norfolk said decisively. "Until we figure out what to do next."

Anne laughed in disbelief as she read the letter in her hands. Her father and brother looked at her in alarm, and her sister smiled.

"George has requested that I stay longer at Grimston," Anne announced quietly. "For my 'peace of mind'. He says the Queen is ill, and my being at court will mean that my own health is at risk."

"And does the King not wish you to return?" Norfolk asked her curiously, frowning in confusion.

Anne shrugged. "That is neither here nor there. George has also informed me that dear Henry has also taken another mistress to keep him entertained, though fortunately her family are of little status and have no standing at court, and so she is no threat to us."

Her father frowned at her. "What have you done?" he said coldly, "What have you done to bring this upon us?"

Anne appraised him coolly. "I have done nothing, father. George says that the King misses me dearly, and asks for me every day. He is horrified that I am not at court, and wishes me back as soon as the Queens health has improved out of respect and love for me, as well as out of love for his wife."

Thomas seemed a little appeased, and when Anne passed him the letter, he actually smiled. "If the Queen is in ill-health, it greatly improves our chances of keeping the King," he relented, scratching a hair on his chin.

"Do not be vulgar, father," Mary Boleyn chastised him quietly. "The Queen is a good woman."

"The Queen stands in our way," The Duke of Norfolk said bluntly, sighing and throwing the letter on the fire.

Anne placed a hand discreetly on her stomach and fought back the tears that threatened to overwhelm her.

Two months had passed before Anne decided to come back to court. Henry had apparently dallied with a new love interest in her absence – a Lady Eleanor, who was just a nobody, really – and since learning of this Anne had been avoiding him at all costs, too hurt to face him, much to the King's sorrow.

...

Katherine lay alone in her bed, attended only by her most beloved lady and her Chaplain in her last hours for fear of contagion. It was no secret now that the end of her life was approaching, and as she clutched her rosary to her chest, a single tear slipped down her pale cheek.

She gestured towards one of the ladies and the young woman leaned over the Queen's frail body, dabbing at the elder woman's forehead with a damp cloth.

"Elizabeth," Katherine murmured, "My sweet Elizabeth."

Elizabeth Darrow smiled at her Mistress. "I am here, my Lady," she murmured softly, smoothing the Queen's hair back from her head.

"I would like to see my husband," Katherine whispered. "It has been too long since I have been in his arms."

"His Majesty cannot come to you, my Lady," Elizabeth said quietly. "The risk of contagion is too great."

"Where is Mary?" Katherine said softly, her eyes flitting around the room as if she was searching for her one surviving child. "Where is Arthur?" A sudden vigour entered Katherine's weak voice, and she sat up from the pillows and kicked at the bedclothes. "I must go to my husband!"

The Queen's ladies glanced between each other. "Your husband is the King, my Lady. King Henry VIII."

Katherine shook her head wildly. "No, no. My husband's name is Arthur."

There was a tentative knock on the door and Elizabeth opened it, curtseying when she saw the King and Dr Linacre. "His Majesty is here, my Lady," then, to Henry, "You should not go any closer, my Lord."

Henry ignored the comment and his eyes filled with tears as he appraised his dying wife. "My sweet Catalina," he murmured, passing a white rose to Elizabeth Darrow who placed its stem in the Queen's palm, closing her thin fingers around it. Katherine bent her head to smell the petals and smiled a thin smile.

"You have come for me, Arthur," she said deliriously, her eyes wide and glassy. "I thought you had forgotten me."

Henry frowned but thought it unwise to contradict a dying woman. "Yes," he replied softly, pushing past Dr Linacre and sitting beside Katherine on the bed. He took her free hand in his and kissed it.

Katherine looked around for her Chaplain. "I know that I must die, and so it is my wish to take my final confession."

Henry bowed his head and squeezed his eyes closed. He would finally hear the truth about Katherine's marriage to his brother. He could not be angry with her now. Katherine had been a good wife to him, regardless of anything else. Other matters could be resolved later.

Katherine's chaplain smiled kindly at her and sat on her other side. "You may begin, your Majesty."

Katherine closed her eyes and sighed. "I wish to confess that my union with Prince Arthur was consummated. We conceived within weeks of being married, though it pleased God to call the child from this world after two short months in my womb."

Henry let out a breath and shook his head, questions filling his mind.

"I love the King dearly," Katherine murmured sadly, "And though it has taken many years for me to admit that my marriage to his Majesty is null and void, our precious daughter was born out of wedlock." Henry squeezed Katherine's hand, doing his best to remain silent.

A warm tear trailed down Katherine's cold cheek. "I pray for the souls of my children, and for the soul of my brother, the King. I pray that my sweet Mary is able to forgive me for deceiving her. I offer my soul to God in atonement for my sins, and pray that he has mercy upon a helpless woman in who did as she was bid by her family." It was as if she was realising that Henry was there for the first time, and her eyes dimmed as she smiled at him. "Forgive me, brother," she whispered. Henry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I forgive you, sister."

Katherine closed her eyes. "I pray that you find love, Henry. I pray that you find the happiness that I could not give you." And the son you so deeply desire.

"Be at peace, Catalina," Henry replied, smoothing tendrils of hair back from her forehead.

"I can feel the sun on my face." Katherine opened her eyes and smiled, wide and beautiful. In that moment, Henry could see the twenty three year old woman that he had fallen in love with when he was a boy of eighteen, the woman that was reputed as the most beautiful in all of Christendom. Her eyes were far away, looking into a place that only the dying can see. "I can feel the heat of Spain and the love of my Mother and Father. Arthur and my children beckon me forward, Henry," Katherine said, absolutely contented.

The King gestured for the priest to bless Katherine, and Henry himself lit a candle beside Katherine's bed. "Be at peace," he repeated, and backed slowly from the room.

...

And it was in that room, not five minutes later, that Catherine of Aragon, the Princess Dowager of Wales, passed away, with the warmth of the sun on her skin and a smile on her face.

Henry slammed the door of his Privy Chamber. "Go to Mistress Anne Boleyn and tell her I am in need of her presence," he spat at a faceless attendant, throwing a goblet into a corner of the room.

It only took a few minutes before a worried looking Anne Boleyn entered his chamber. The lady wrung her hands and tried to keep her distance, but Henry was in no mood to notice.

"Your Majesty?" She asked anxiously, paling when she saw Henry's tears.

"She betrayed me," Henry mumbled, "She lied to me!" Anne took a few nervous steps towards him, stopping when she was in front of him. She opened her arms wordlessly and Henry collapsed in her embrace, sobbing heavy tears into the shoulder of her satin gown. "Wretched woman," he cried, "Our marriage was never a marriage! My brother got her in pup, and yet she swore on her soul that she was a maid! Perhaps now her soul is atoning for her sins, numerous as they were!" He cried childishly, burying his face into her neck.

Anne pulled back her head and understanding slowly filled her eyes. "It is foolish to speak ill of the dead, my dear Heart," she said quietly, the tips of her fingers smoothing away the lines on his face. Henry relaxed at her touch and sank back into his chair, pulling her down on his lap. "The Queen could not die with a lie on her conscience. You have the truth now, Henry." She kissed his cheek and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I am sorry, my love," Anne whispered. "You have reasons now, reasons as to why your children did not survive! I am not saying that the death of a Queen is something to be celebrated," she added hastily, in case he should remand her, "But now you can be sure that it was her sins that prevented her from bearing you a son."

Henry nodded slowly, considering this. "I loved her, Anne. I feel as if my heart is broken. My daughter is illegitimate because of the Princess Dowager's last confession. I have no heir," he said despairingly.

Anne looked at him and a hesitant smile spread across her face. "Your Majesty is mistaken," she said quietly, her eyes sparkling.

"Anne?" Henry replied curiously, momentarily forgetting his sorrow.

"I have missed my courses," Anne murmured softly, glancing up at Henry from under her lashes.

"How?" Henry asked in delight, kissing every inch of Anne's skin that he could reach.

Anne blushed and looked away. "In the woods."

"But..." Henry began to protest, but Anne's smile quietened him.

"It was too late," Anne said slowly, "When you pulled away. The midwife... She said such things have happened in the past."

"Will it not affect the child?" Henry replied sharply, worry suddenly filling his eyes.

Anne shook her head. "She says not. Children have been conceived through lesser actions than ours." She blushed and looked away.

Henry eyed her with amusement. "And how is that, my Love?" He lifted her chin so that she was staring into his eyes.

"Henry..." Anne groaned, smiling bashfully and smacking him lightly on the shoulder. "Katherine should be honoured," She said quietly, taking Henry's hand and placing it on her stomach. It was as if she had forgotten that once-upon-a-time she had insisted that rather than acknowledge Katherine as her mistress, she would see her hanged. "As the Aunt of our child and your Majesty's sister, she should be honoured."

"Yes," Henry agreed, his mood changing instantly from grief to hope.

Perhaps he would have a male heir before the year was out, and he had Anne to thank for all of it.

End -

I had a lot of ideas concerning the Tudors and kind of crammed them all together in this, I hope it doesn't show!

Leave me a review and let me know what you thought! Should I continue?