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She was unlike anything he'd ever seen.
A cascade of dark hair fell from beneath the crimson French hood edged with pearls, past her shoulders until it swung lightly by her waist, her every movement causing it to shimmer and dance in the sunlight. He beheld her waist - tiny underneath the multitude of skirts - and her wrists, where more pearls were gathered at the hems of her sleeves. His gaze lingered on her neck - pale and graceful and, like every other inch of her, also surrounded by pearls. Gleaming white pearls on delicate thread were tied around that slender neck of hers, a large golden B hanging suspended from her collarbone.
She turned elegantly, deep red skirts turning up dust on the garden path she walked on. She had seen him. Beyond the shrubbery and through the trees, her dark eyes had spotted him. She tilted her head to the side to study him, and when his face broke out into a smile, he noticed with relish that hers did, too.
"Hal, come over here!" She called. "Don't just stand there."
Henry snapped shut the small leather book he had been reading - or had been until he'd seen her, at least - and advanced towards her. She was with her sister, Mary, and her brother, George. George greeted Henry warmly, smirking only a little as he watched Henry and his sister share a look that betrayed something much more than friendship. Mary, Henry noticed, was smirking too. He suddenly felt that their walk was orchestrated, and that Mary and George were expected him to do something. He could even have sworn he'd caught George giving him a conspiratorial wink.
"Mary," George began, eyes alight with mischief, "Why don't you show me those roses the king had planted last week?"
"Of course, brother dearest." Mary answered demurely. "I take my leave of you, my lord." She said to Henry, ducking into a small curtsey. Henry bowed and nodded to George, understanding what they intended and silently thanking God for putting the idea into their minds.
"Lady Anne, might you accompany me through the rest of the gardens?" He asked, holding out the crook of his arm. Anne placed her hand there with a small, innocent smile. Oh, Henry thought ruefully, that smile will be the death of me.
"Is it true?" Henry asked Anne a few days later. It was raining, pouring, and as a result the entire court was inside. He had caught her in the hallway as she went to her chambers. He had just left the king - who was in an unusually good mood - and he was willing to concede that King Henry was just having a good day. That was, at least, until rumour reached him that the king's good mood had nothing to do with his wife and everything to do with Lady Anne.
"Is what true, my love?" Anne asked, her nimble fingers reaching up to touch his jawline. Her eyes wandered to his lips as her fingers traced their path. Unable to stop himself, he nipped her lightly on the finger.
"Vixen." He whispered. Anne laughed, the very sound of it setting his soul on fire. He placed his hands on her shoulders as her laughter died, searching inside her dark eyes for the answer he wanted most. "Did the king send you a gift?"721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZkwpNOVxXN
Tell me it's not true, he prayed silently. Tell me they've got it all wrong. 721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ4lKGdSvmIW
Anne looked down at her hand, where a startlingly large ruby sat ensconced in a golden ring that hadn't been there when Henry had kissed the back of her hand only two nights before.
"I could hardly refuse, Hal." She whispered, her eyes begging him to understand. When he remained silent, her hands once more reached up to his face. She stroked the hair back behind his ears, whispering rushed, urgent, desperate professions of her love. He caught her wrist between his hands and pressed a kiss to the blue veins against her pale skin. Her chest rose swiftly underneath her dress, and as he dropped her hand, she extended her neck as an invitation for him to press more kisses to more of her exposed skin. Burying his face into her shoulder, his hand felt its way down her arm and to the place where the offending ruby sat. He wiggled it free of her finger and pressed it into her palms.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPUDZcuY0Hz
"If its jewels you want, I can do better than that." He muttered into her ear.
"Better than a king?" She asked. She was provoking him deliberately, and the laugh he responded with was low and throaty.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡe2r9gpaXlI
"Much better than a fucking king."
The dance was fast, the music was loud, and the wine was flowing freely. Anne was decked in more new jewels, Henry noticed bitterly. His eyes followed as she moved across the floor with a grace and surety that could only be inherited, not taught. Her laugh was infectious, and as the candlelight glinted off the emeralds at her throat - the king's doing, no doubt - Henry raised his glass as she met his eyes from across the room. With one wink from her, his heart began to race and his blood began to thud. The dance continued, and Henry watched the musicians, willing them to stop, to finish, to hurry up. They didn't, and when they did, the king immediately ordered them to strike up again. He was just as captivated by Anne as Hal was, he noticed. The king was watching her every step, every twirl she gave in time to the music and every laugh that fell from her lips. When the dance ended and the king allowed the music to finish, Anne curtseyed to the throne, dropping smoothly to the polished floor. King Henry applauded, and it made Hal seethe to see the king's gaze lingering on her chest, her neck, her lips.
At the next opportunity, Henry snaked an arm around her waist when none but her brother were near, and all eyes were on the next round of dancing. George's eyes flickered downwards at Henry's arm around his sister's corsetted middle. When Anne was pulled into the dancing by her sister, George sidled closer.
"You should know," he began, taking a sip from his goblet. His eyes never strayed from the activity straight ahead. "My father has betrothed Anne to the earl of Ormond. James Butler."
"Are you certain?" Henry asked, eyes finding Thomas Boleyn in the crowd. George nodded grimly by his side.
"I'm sorry. I know how you feel about my sister." He said, patting Henry on the shoulder. "What's more, I know how my sister feels about you." He said into Henry's ear.
"Does she know?" Henry asked.
George didn't reply. He turned his attention back to his wine and stood silently watching the dance. A single apologetic sideways glance told Henry everything he needed to know.
"The earl of Ormond?" Henry said coldly. Anne was on her knees, back against the wall, as he stood four feet away by the window.
"I didn't tell you because I have no intention of marrying Ormond. You think I want to go and live in Ireland?" She asked incredulously. Henry was angry, but underneath his anger was bubbling away something much more dangerous. Heartbreak was threatening to consume him, and as his hands clenched into fists, Anne's very presence was almost enough to set him off.
"Is that all?" He asked numbly. Anne glanced up in confusion, her eyes glazed with tears, shining in the moonlight.
"Is what all?"
"The reason you don't plan on marrying him. Because you won't want to live in Ireland?" His tone was absent and strangely empty, almost as though he were asking her about the weather or the English navy. She let out an exasperated sigh that sent tears leaking from the corners of her eyes.
"Of course it isn't." She said with a breathless sort of sigh. "I don't want to marry James Butler because I love you, Hal. You."
Henry made no move towards her and continued staring out of the window. The moonlight was making patterns through the trees below, and if he looked hard enough, he was certain he could see a couple intwined at the roots.
"Are you sure?" He asked in the same tone as before. "I mean, I'm no king, am I? You said that yourself."
Anne eyes flashed in the dark, as they often did when she was angry.
"That was a jest." She said, rising to her feet. "You are being ridiculous. Maybe I should let my father sell me off to James Butler."
Henry turned, fire in his eyes. Anne remained where she was as he advanced towards her. He put his hands on her shoulders and searched her eyes.
"George was under the impression that the deal had been arranged and agreed to."
"George knows about as much as an ape." Anne said with a dismissive flick of her hand. Henry wiped at her tears with gentle fingers. She closed her eyes against the pressure of his palm against her cheek. "I meant it Hal." She whispered. "I won't be married off to James Butler."
Her words soothed him. He glanced at her eyelashes, weighed down by tears, and kissed them lightly.
"Tell me again." He said, his breath soft against her eyelids. "Tell me who you love."721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡtupQFuFJol
Anne pushed against his chest, a smile on her lips. He held her close and moved his lips to her ear.
"Tell me, Anne."
"You." She whispered, her voice cutting through the darkness and bringing a smile to his face. He pushed her against the wall, kissing her fiercely. Each time his lips left hers for the briefest of moments, she repeated herself, and with each utterance, Henry felt his heart take flight.
You.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡU4wk1md8DP
You.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhuI7rdduQM
You.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡWYTqSOpo1M
"Marry me." He said against the skin at the back of her neck. She had fallen into his bed the night before, and whilst the only improper thing that had happened between them was forceful kisses, his hands had deftly taken off her dress and unlaced her corset like it was a routine they had practiced a million times. She had fallen asleep in his arms and he had watched as her chest rose and fell slowly with each intake of breath, marvelling at how perfect a creature he had won.
Anne laughed, rolling onto her back. He lifted himself up on one elbow and tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear. She still had her earrings in, heavy gilded things with stupidly large emeralds hanging off them. He untangled them from the mass of hair that had wound around them during the night, and Anne lay still, musing over his words.
"I mean it." He said, meeting her eyes. "I want you to marry me. I don't want the king to have you," he said, pressing a kiss to her jawbone. "I don't want James Butler to have you, and I most certainly don't want any other man to have you."
"Your family will not approve." She said lightly, tangling her fingers in the fabric of his collar. He shrugged.
"If we are already married they cannot change it, can they?" He asked with a grin. Anne laughed, unable to resist it when he smiled like that.
"Marry me." He repeated. It felt like an age as she lay silent before him. When she opened her mouth to speak, Henry's heart stopped beating and his blood froze in anticipation. When she spoke, it was one word, and with that one, small word, Henry felt his entire world shift, gravitating around this one woman - this beautiful, stubborn, wilful woman that had turned his thoughts to senselessness and reckless abandon.721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡRzfZBqWIPm
"Yes." She said, eyes glittering in the early morning light. As she reached up to kiss him, and as his hands wandered the length of her thighs, tangling themselves in the hems of her underskirts, Henry couldn't help but feel that she was made for him, and he for her.
A/N: Okay so maybe not a totally happy ending in real life - but according to some accounts Anne Boleyn did marry Henry Percy before her involvement with king Henry VIII. The marriage (if it existed) was later claimed as false so Henry Percy could marry Mary Talbot and Anne could be involved with the king. Percy was one of the men interrogated in 1536 when Anne was arrested. 721Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZtv5H7xxqc
