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Author Topic: The Boleyn King  (Read 404 times)

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Offline KabalithTopic starter

The Boleyn King
« on: February 21, 2014, 11:37:55 AM »
The plot: What if Anne Boleyn had given Henry VIII the son he so desperately wanted?

I figured that the best way I could possibly advertise this, and show what I want was to write an introduction. Especially with my being new, it might serve to demonstrate my level of ability and style also.

Henry IX
May 15th 1555
Henry sighed heavily, was there no end to today's trials? It was one thing after another and he was beginning to long for the days when he could retreat hunting and shut off from his responsibilities. The court felt claustrophobic now, with people humming around him for attention, answers, like leeches. Slouching slightly in his high-backed chair, hands balled into fists against the wooden arms he could hear the reproachful voice of his childhood instructors chastising him about his posture. It irked him more than he would like that he sat up subconsciously, back a little straighter.

France was chomping at his heels, terrified of his discussions with Spain, who were likewise worried about events in France. It seemed that whatever he did, nobody would be happy. One year, he'd only been in his majority for one year and the soon to be nineteen year old King was certainly missing his youth, a time were he had chaffed under the control of his parliament and Uncle. He had been lucky, if only he had known it. Being King was starting to seem less about telling everybody what to do and more about desperately trying to keep everybody else from ruining themselves. Or you.

Two more days until his birthday celebrations, he sighed, two more days and he could pretend to have some time off. It was a pretence because he had other plans for a time when his entire court and family would be obligated to attend him. No absences or excuses allowed. The room buzzed around him, seemingly unaware that their ruler's head was miles away.

“Harry” a  insistent voice brought him back to the present, as did a hand on his heavy velveted arm. There were few people left who would address him so informally in a public setting, even then the familiar name would have only been resorted too if others had been tried. Apologising quickly, Henry cleared his throat. An action which made at least seven heads swivel to look at him. The King rolled his eyes, ever since his brother Edward has succumb to the sickness of the lungs three years ago, they looked at Henry like he was made of china. It was the Tudor fate he presumed, until he was married with an heir instated, nobody would be pleased. Raised on stories of the brutal wars, he had known it was his duty to protect the Kingdom from such a fate, but sometimes he wished everybody would relax a bit. It didn't help that Mary Tudor was sitting on the ringside, encouraging the plight of the Catholics and generally causing him grief.

If only she would act and he would be rid of her forever.

It mattered little, he was young, full of confidence and had no plans to die just yet.

Unless it was of boredom.

Harry!” The tone was a little sterner and Henry had at least the decency to look sheepish, a look which on the tall, athletic, fabric adorned ruler of the Kingdom looked a little out of place. Henry had certainly inherited his father's stance, standing a clear head taller than most men in the court, taller again than some. The fiery red hair which he refused to cut was pulled back behind him and held fast with leather. His clothes were red and gold, more often than not he felt more like an ornament than a person.

“What is it Rochford?” Sheepish he may have been, but Henry had never been a simpering boy meant to be bossed around. He had a hot temper and every shred of entitlement that came from his upbringing and position. His uncle tensed a little, unused to the formality and noting the unspoken rebuke.

“It's Elizabeth” he spoke, the frustration in his tone was almost instantly matched on the King's face.

“It's always Elizabeth.” Henry snapped, standing up and striding from the room, with George Boleyn hot on his heels.

“The Spanish Ambassador is leaving, he refuses to go back to Hatfield. It was all I could do to persuade him to come back to court and discuss things with Your Majesty before running back to Philip.”

“I will talk to him.”

“And Elizabeth? You're never going to get her married off if she refuses to even speak to the ambassadors.”

“What am I to say Uncle? She agrees easily enough, is pleasant about it, makes the arrangements, how can I reprise her for being taken ill?”

“You can't believe the headaches? They are far too convenient. And consistent. She needs to be married. You need her to be married.” Rochford lowered his voice considerably "there are rumors that Phillip will marry Mary - and then bring England back to Rome."

“Of course I don't believe them. I know my sister, she is-” Henry paused to gather his thoughts and absorb the information “she will be wed whether she likes it or not. Issue an invitation on my behalf for the Spanish Ambassador to attend the celebrations. Also issue an invitation to France. And whoever else might have an interest in Elizabeth's hand.” Rochford nodded and made to move off, “Oh and Uncle, if you could see it upon yourself to neglect to inform my dear sister of these developments I would be most grateful.”

Henry would play Elizabeth at her own game, he continued walking. He wasn't sure where too, but it seemed better than going back to the stuffy room and sitting once more on his perch. There was more lenience in him now than there normally was, he knew this time of year was bitter-sweet for his sister. His birthday, coming hand in hand with their mother's death. He had never known Anne, but Elizabeth had memories, fond ones, she had spoken of to him occasionally. She lost a mother, but gained more protection from having a brother than she ever would have gotten had Anne survived and Henry not. For now he would let her be, but he needed her married, she had been dragging this out for two years now and it was becoming less and less amusing.

What I want from a partner is somebody, anybody who wants to jump into the story with me. I don't mind who, just somebody who would enjoy writing this scenario with me. It can be a love story, a political story, a tragedy, a thriller, a mystery - whatever you like! I'm entirely up for discussions!

So if you're interested at all, please send me a PM and we can get plotting!


« Last Edit: February 27, 2014, 06:50:47 AM by Kabalith »