Fanfiction of the Tudors
Pairings: Henry VIII and Jane Seymour, Anne Boleyn and Charles Brandon.
This is an AU. My brain, my ideas. If you don't like the story, don't read it. If you have any questions about this story, just put it in a review and I'll try and answer as soon as possible.
There are a few differences in this story. I have made Henry VIII's and Charles Brandon's birthdates later so it fits in the story. Also Princess Mary lives with her sister (not Elizabeth) happily. And most important of all, Katherine of Aragon died leaving Henry VIII a widow. He chose to marry Jane Seymour.
I hope that wasn't too confusing.
Disclaimer – I own nothing except my ideas and my imagination. If I did own the Tudors, Anne Boleyn would be alive and happy with Elizabeth.
I got the title of this because I was struggling to think of one, then Time Of Your Life by Greenday came onto my song's playlist and BOOM! TITLE!
Time Of Your Life
Whitehall Palace, 2nd May 1534
A different kind of pain. Is someone there to hold you? Is someone there to take you away from me?
- A Different Kind Of Pain by Cold.
"It's coming! The head's crowning. You need to push! Push, your Majesty!" exclaimed Lady Eleanor, wiping the queen's sweaty pale face with a dirty off-white rag.
"Joan! Run now and get Doctor Linacre. Hurry, the babe's stuck" yelled Eleanor Plight, her face draining of colour as she watched Lady Joan scurry off for medical help.
"What's wrong? What's wrong with my son?" shrieked Jane, her pretty green eyes glistening with tears, her pale hands clutching the sheets as she squirmed in agony.
Lady Joan rushed back in and instructed Jane to calm herself. Lady Eleanor scrapped Jane's damp blonde curls from her face, which was sticky from tears and sweat.
"Mistress Alice, more towels please". Eleanor ordered the scared fourteen year old into action while she disposed of soiled bedding.
"Don't tell me to calm myself, you childless wretch!" Jane screeched, her attractive face twisting into an ugly grimace. She wasn't usually like this. Usually she was sweet and kind, meek and mild. But the pain was getting to her.
Joan spun round, scorn evident on her pretty face.
"Sister" Eleanor was quick to attempt to pacify her older sister who was cursed with an awful temper.
"No, Ellie. She deserves a talking to. She acts so simpering and sweet when we all know she's only a whore. She acts so high and mighty just because his Majesty picked her as a wife after his beloved wife, good queen Katherine, passed away" hissed Joan, who had always been jealous of Jane Seymour.
"Joan-y, don't. Doctor Linacre is here" whispered Eleanor grimly, gesturing for Alice to open the door to the doctor.