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Chapter Text

Catherine was a woman of many facets. Tonight she experienced her worst. Drenched in bubbles of cold sweat, the Queen of England rushed out of her bed, took a candle, lit it up and went to her vanity. There was nothing out of the ordinary. But everything in her dream seemed so real. Had this been a sign?
Her stomach lurched. "Ugh." Catherine clutched her belly . Not now.
Since she had given birth to Mary, she had been plagued with terrible cases of stomachache; but none were close to this one.
Running to her chamber pot, she threw up all the contents of her stomach.

Can it be? No. She wasn't going to let this spoil the future for her daughter. That terrible future. Time and time again God had warned her and she refused to listen. Not this time, Lord. This time, she knew what He asked of her and at the risk of eternal damnation, she was going to put her own position in peril to save her daughter and the life of this little one.

The Queen surprised everyone when she burst into the King's chambers, declaring she wanted a divorce. The King, happily entertained by his latest muse, nearly pushed her from his knee.

Had Henry heard right? Catherine wanted to annul their marriage? He chuckled, a frivolous laugh that was echoed by his courtiers until silence took over once again. Everyone from the most astute to the sickest of sycophants could see the Queen was deadly serious.

 "Leave us." Everyone except for Wolsey whom Henry motioned for him to remain, left. 

When the doors were closed behind them, Henry bellowed at her, "What is the meaning of this? First you shame me with that letter to the pope, making me look like a bastard father and now this?! What are you plotting woman?"

"You used to trust me."

"I believed all your lies." Henry said, recalling what cousin Maggie told him. "Your eminence, tell our beloved Spanish Princess what-"

"I am still your Queen and will be addressed -" 

Henry cut her off, " You insist on not being my wife so you will be treated as something else. " Henry turned to Wolsey again and resumed his question. "What is the penalty for women who presume to be a man and demand of their husbands what is not within their right to do so? "

"According to the law of Moses and as reminded by Saint Paul, severe punishment to be determined by the church fathers or the head of her household." Wolsey answered , making a big emphasis on the last part of his sentence, leaving no doubt whatsoever as to whom he's referring to.

"Of course," he quickly added, "this is all circumstantial. Should Her Majesty make a public atonement and decry your public shaming, this can be neatly swiped under the rug. It will be as if nothing happened. A significant time period will pass and Your Majesty can make your request for an annulment widely known."

Both men looked at Catherine as if she was a child who had just been given a real life lesson. Her response was no less calculating and far less polite. "First off, Your Eminence, I have no intention of doing any of that. Whip me, drag me in chains, I won't bend. You have nothing on me except hearsay and a weak man's intuition. "

At that last part, Henry glared at her. Catherine ignored him and carried on. "I am the daughter of the two greatest monarchs that have ever lived. I thought it was my destiny to bring peace to England and help my husband to bring back Camelot. I was clearly wrong. God has other plans for me and as His obedient subject, I shall do what is right and follow my conscience."

"The pope will never kowtow to the whims of a woman who is still legally bound by English law. Under our legal code, you cannot make that request unless you have my consent."

"I already did."

Henry and Wolsey's eyes widened. Daggers shot from Henry's eyes as she explained how she used the imperial ambassador as her liaison to do her bidding, and relied on Henry's public declaration following the birth of his bastard son with Bessie Blount, to allege royal consent had already been given.

"So you see Henry, I really don't need you anymore except your signature once it comes."

Wolsey was annoyed while Henry was overtaken by rage. His hands balled into fists, his eyes were ablaze with fury, lips pressed firmly together to form a thin line; the only thing that wasn't visible was his blackened soul.

Catherine, who had an eye for beauty and another one to spot ugliness, did see it and it made her smile. "What's wrong, my love? Did you not say that England is the most precious jewel in your treasure chest? To be worshipped and guarded jealously against all enemies, foreign and domestic. I am doing this for you, Henry. You can marry whichever pair of legs have caught your attention, and sire a son to inherit your crown. With his stepfather dead, you can even declare your worldly jewel, Prince of Wales. Just marry that yellow haired siren. No one is going to hold it against you; you can advertise it as a return to the old, when your Yorkist grandfather married your grandmother, a Lancastrian widow who proved her fertility many times over. A pureblooded English union fit for a King descended from the strange and most unusual families. "

"Do not mock me, Catherine. Until that bull arrives, I am still your husband and your sovereign and you must obey me."

"Must is not a reminder used by Kings with firmly established thrones. I won you Flodden, I lost a child because of it and I grieved. I thought long and hard of all that you said and did to make me feel like I was unworthy of your life and the crown of St. Edith. For a time, I believed it and I lived only for your pleasure but I have had enough of this charade. Ten years of a long time and whatever punishment for my sins you think I should receive, I already have received by being married to you. Nonetheless, I do demand compensation. "

Wolsey scoffed. "You can't make such demands."

"On the contrary, I can. Should you or I tell him, Henry? As your legal sister in law under the good faith clause I made sure to be included in the legal document, I have power rights and extra ones for all the service that I did for you and your country and also the Holy Mother Church. "

"You won't get a penny from me, Catherine."

"I will. And when I do, I will no longer have any need of you. "

"You left one little thing out of your equation, wife. Our daughter. What will you tell her when she's older and she finds her mother lacked the spine and the courage to fight for her legitimacy? The good faith clause can only get you so far before parliament decided it is a load of bull and she's excluded from the line of succession. No pope on earth (once I have a male heir in the cradle) will dispute that."

"Perhaps. But it is better to be an excluded royal than the black sheep of your court whom heretics and others will peck at her until there's nothing left except an empty shell. "

Henry crossed his arms against his chest. His brow creases with worry, eyebrows knit with confusion, Henry asked in feigned ignorance what did she mean by that.

"I know you better than any siren who warms your bed. You can't fool me and pretend you haven't been indulging in Luther's books. Cromwell feeds you a rich diet of Reformist literature, each more appealing and contradictory than the last. "

"How would you know what that ex-German monk and the other heathens say? Have you been reading forbidden books too? If the Holy Father knew, he'd withdraw his support for you. "

"I do not need to pretend to be an intellectual and read through more than two thousand pages of pretentious hacks to know what they are all about. But you always needed to impress people to feed your ego so it doesn't surprise me. If you want to turn the country into an epicenter of religious warfare, be my guest. But I won't let your new 'yes men' harm my daughter. "

"She is my daughter, and I will do with her as I see fit."

"No Henry. You have already spoiled her mother's life, I won't let you ruin hers. " 

Catherine's battle cry was demonstrated in the political arena where as she promised Henry, the courts declared in her favor. To salvage the situation, Henry settled himself with alleging that Catherine was coerced into agreeing to all of the demands laid by papal regards and their lawyers. 

In this worlds, it was better to be seen as a cruel and dastardly king than a weak one.

Relishing in her new title, lands and political freedom, Catherine immediately sent for her daughter. She remembered how disappointed and disgusted Henry was when she pleased with him to hug their newborn daughter. He embellished the story to foreign and off-world emissaries that he had been overjoyed with the birth of Mary, adding that he told her that if they could have a healthy daughter, it was a sign God was preparing them for the birth of a healthy son.

Catherine smirked at all those wild tales that has gone on to be recorded on the annals of history. How much of it was true and how much of it was like her and Henry, a load of bull?

She pushed these thoughts away. Mary was all that mattered now. If Henry did as he threatened, her daughter would have a big inheritance to fall back on so she'd never need Henry or any of his boot lickers.

Catherine heard the bells of the parish church near Bridewell Palace ringing louder than usual. Now what? She put her shawl around her and stepped outside to see what all the commotion was about. A hand in her midsection, Catherine suddenly felt a tremor of fear running down her spine.

Besides the sound of the bells tolling, there was the unmistakable sound of horse hooves, getting louder by the second. Could it be that Henry had a change of heart? He wouldn't. She told herself. He is far too proud to admit he was wrong and take back what he took many pains in convincing the world was a useless wife. Even if he publicly entertained that idead, he'd quickly be poisoned by Cromwell and his faction that the child sleeping my belly is likely to die or be another girl.

Nevertheless, that ominous feeling remained. To her horror, it turned out to be worse than she imagined. The cloudy skies were replaced by luminous clouds that looked like they were on fire followed by a royal regiment sent by the King to take her to safety.

Catherine demanded to be let go and wait for her daughter but to shut her up, they delivered the grave news that it was too late for her.

Her knees felt wobbly. She could hardly stand. She let out a painful cry. In this moment of anguish, the soldiers took advantage and put her on a carriage. The fiery clouds above disappeared, revealing an Old Republic cruiser. One single blast was all it took to destroy her manor.

Catherine didn't hear the cries of the burning survivors of the weeping of her ladies which were in the carriage with her. To her, the world.had ended. Nothing else mattered.

Chapter Text

"As I grew older my love of God grew more and more. I often offered my heart to Him, using the words my Mother had taught me, and I tried every hard to please Him in all my actions, taking great care never to offend Him. And yet one day I committed a fault which I must tell you here -it gives me a good opportunity of humbling myself, though I believe I have grieved over it with perfect contrition." - THE STORY OF A SOUL: THE AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF ST. THERESE OF LISIEUX

There wasn't a living soul within sight besides the two of them. Thena's facial expression was hidden underneath the veil of her face. When they were outside the vicinity of other Mandalorians, her mother allowed her to take off her helmet, but her face would still remain hidden.

However her mother knew what expression she wore. The Mandalorian armorer and principal clan leader of the Children of the Watch shook her head in disapproval.

"Your name will never be recorded in the Annals of the Great if you keep avoiding the matter in question. There are limited cases where a woman can act like a helpless maiden to achieve her means but you don't get to have that privilege. If you keep postponing it, you'll have a harder time facing the trials."

"You lived through the civil wars fought on Mandalore as did your ancestors before you all the way to Mandalore the Great. The Empire is gone so there's nothing left for me to fear. There's nothing for me on Earth except painful memories."

"You'll either conform to the pain and lead a mediocre life, expelled and forgotten, or you can face your pain rather than let it dominate you. The choice is yours to take." 

Thena had never disappointed her mother nor done anything to endanger her clan. It was why she'd refused to take on this mission. Earth was a joke, filled with the worst kind of people that the galaxy had to offer. Indeed, she thought. They are a wild, dishonorable bunch. Thena recalled how humans refused to be associated with the more primitive lot of their species. Some of the terrestrials who left, told her that if they had one wish was not to be born on that damnable planet. Yet her mother had a point. If she didn't face her pain, it would dominate her life, leading her to a life of dishonor and misery wherever she went.

It was the way of the Mandalorian. Thena accepted the quest and left the next morning but not before her mother announcing her departure to every Mandalorian hiding in Nevarro.

"Secrecy is the key to our survival. As long as one of us live, there is a future to be forged. Do not let this however breed overconfidence. Do not get sidetracked, learn to rule your emotions. When this is over, you will earn the right to request a sigil." A pregnant pause came. It was followed by the traditional Mandalorian mantra: "This is the way." Which was echoed by all her fellow warriors.

Divided into three kingdoms, Earth was one of the planets firmly loyal to the New Republic. Rich in rare minerals and precious stones that collectors and show off gangsters paid a fortune for, it was one of the few sectors that was allowed to break the rules as long as they paid a small portion of their profits to the New Republic.

The moment she stepped off from her ship, Thena encountered reprisal from the locals. Dispatching the last offender, she threw his body to the river Thames. "Ding Ferrick!" She spouted more curses as another one attacked her.

She held him down, her boot on his neck and the other on his wrist. His screams of anguish were soon ended by her blade piercing his left eye. Never one to leave caution to the wind, she took out her blaster and shot him in the head.

Another job for the boatman. Throwing her last assailant's corpse to the river, she went on her way. 

It was not a long trek to the city of London, the smallest capital city on Earth, and the center of the second largest kingdom of this planet, Britannia. 

The British Isles hatred for foreigners was legendary. A year after she was born, the city of London rioted against foreign merchants, calling every man, woman and child to sand their king to expell every outsider or else, they'd take matters into their own hands.t

It's a hell hole. It paled in comparison to other places she had visited, especially in the core worlds. Even after Henry VIII's Queen and his eldest sister had acted as mediators, people remained xenophobic.

By now, it had diminished but hatred was still there. Alien species were welcomed (if they were merchants with something valuable to trade), so we're humans who were New Republic officials. Mercenary guilds, runaways and Imperial sympathizers on the other hand, were quickly detained, dealt with or handed over to the New Republic.

Mandalorians however had a well deserved fame for being the deadliest -if not impossible- catch. Her handling of her four assailants had proved that. There was also the stigma of them being cursed. Wild tales but there was always a bit of truth in legends. And on Earth, where people lived and breathed their religious scriptures, these wild tales were taken more seriously.

The British Isles' dominion over Western Europe affected every Christian sect, primarily the Catholic Church. Overtaken by Anglican dogma, Earth's second realm believed that Mandalorians were a people not to confront but to pity. Missionaries were encouraged to find the foundlings found by the Mandalorians and bring them into their fold. It was another way of spiritual warfare that they took too seriously and it often brought them success. The minds of children were easy to corrupt and mold, especially by unscrupulous spiritual leaders.

Luckily for her, she was far too gone to be subjected to those falsehoods. 

Thena eyed every child who clutched his or her mother's hand every time they passed her. The parents both feared and despised her. 

Under her helmet, she grinned. She'd have an easier time educating a mule than making Mandalorians out of these weaklings.

As she neared the Yellow Haired Siren pub, Thena moved her closer a little more to the front so no one would start feeling brave.

The people ogled her when she entered. Some snickered but it didn't go beyond that. She asked the bartender for information. His greediness kept a roof over his head and put food on the family table. For a woman in her business, dishonor, greed and desperation always worked in her favor. Just as she suspected, the information she sought would take her back to a familiar place she had placed in the darkest recesses of her mind. At first glance, it was as she remembered. Old, gloomy, but upon closer inspection, she saw traces fo advanced modifications which signaled the joining of the old with the new. 

Thena entered Westminster School. The young woman asked for the Dean. The monk who had welcomed her raised a skeptical eyebrow - a meager attempt of his to disguise his shock and bafflement at a cursed off-worlder who knew more about their customs than one of their average Jane. The monk guided her to the great school room where she waited for the Dean. It gave her time to appreciate the magnificent craftmanship of her birth pritimitve race.

The clicking sound of the door behind her, brought her attention to her host who looked like he had just got out of bed. "Dean Warrick?"

"No one has called me that since the times of the evil Empire. Semantics, for certain but for every inhabitant of this planet, it was a harbringer of death and destruction. I am surprised it lasted so long." 

"You're not the only one who suffered under its thumb. The empire saw every planet that didn't comply as primitive. Praise be to God that the Emperor was never so bored that it tured you into its plaything."

"He and that wretched creature of his might as well have when they advertised Alderaan's destruction and the wreckage of your sacred Mandalore non-stop. There was not a day that people did not drop to their knees and asked God to be delivered of those devils." 

"That is all over, Dean Warrick. I come here in the spirit of friendship. My mother sent me here as part of my quest. You were the only survivor of the Rogue One squadron, yet you do not appear on the official records of their first and only mission."

"Some things are better left unrecorded. The ends are all that mattered to us. Destroying the empire, freeing the galaxy from tyranny. The rest was meaningless. Empty platitudes for ungrateful souls who always succumb to meaningless adulation." He clapped his hands, signaling that was the end of the matter. "His Majesty has since then, become a man worthy of his crown and I, less impetuous in my criticisms of his grandiosity. But the King is still a man, chosen by God to rule over Europe but our glorious continent but still a man so whatever opinion you have of him, tell it to me or keep it to yourself."

"I do not intend to do either. My thoughts are my own. What I say, I say it in truth. As the only one of a few from the old days before the empire, you are the only one I can rely on to take me to him, so I can complete my quest."

"Warrick sighed. "It will not be easy. I will have to present you to the Queen. She could intercede on your behalf."

Thena quickly interrupted him. "No." She composed herself and steadily, she explained to him that, that would be unwise. 

"I am sorry, Madame but His Majesty is not receptive to your kind. Unless you come under official New Republic business, there is no way he will see you unless he has someone whispering in his ear that it is in his best interests to do so."

"I cannot go to the Queen. It is part of my quest to speak to the King directly, without the Queen's intercession."

"This is an odd quest. Mandalorian code is strict but what they do not know won't do you any harm. You can bend the rules in good faith-"

Thena interrupted him again, this time more abruptly. "There is no middle ground for Mandalorians, Your Eminence. Either we live or die by the code, or we don't."

"You are asking a lot of me." Warrick said. "I gave more than anyone in my family for the Rebel Alliance and I paid a high price for it. So did your people. Though the empire isn't all to blame. Mandalorian society was divided then, and it is divided now. For all that bravado you're renowned for, you remain your number one enemy. The only thing that I lament is that your mother is not given more credit. She is one of the few worthy of respect and who isn't frowned upon. She should have come herself instead of sending you." Warrick said. "Alas, what is done is done. You should go back to her, tell her you succeeded or tell her the truth. She will understand; underneath that hard shell is a reasonable woman."

"Even if she could make an exemption, I could not look past my failure. I do this or I do not. There is no middle ground. This is the way." Thena emphasized.

Warriwck sighed. He acceeded to her request, gave her a place to stay ihn one of the newly build dorms in the school where he assured her she'd have complete privacy, then went on to send a dispatch to the King's secretary, Lord Essex, to convince His Majesty of granting the young Mandalorian an audience with him.

The audiece was granted. To Thena's relief, the Queen was absent. The King was far from the handsome figure she remembered from her childhood. A jolly-looking man whose scarred hands were his badge of honor of everything he and his dynasty had endured during the dark days in the imperial era, he began to address her in a friendly manner.

It is no wonder why the people still love him. To them, he'd always be King Hal.

Thanks to his latest lackey’s wife, the twice widowed and thrice married, Lady Seymour, he was also seen as a modern-day Moses, bringing his people to the promised land after a long time of tribulation under the tyrannical reign of the malevolent emperor and his godless cronies.

Pathetic and yet admirable. They have been beaten, starved to death and bullied to the point of humiliation –where many of the victims begged for death- and yet, they never gave up. The more the empire pushed them towards the brink of insanity, the harder and stronger they pushed back.
Terrestrials were truly something. They never ceased to amaze her.

Thena curtsied to her birth father and former liege. Often, she fantasized about this moment. Would he recognize her, even with her helmet on, just by hearing her voice? Yet, it was evident by his arrogance glance that he did not.

Unsurprisingly, she felt nothing by it. Though she wished that she did because contrary to popular belief, Mandalorians were not uncaring bastards. They were encouraged to feel, but there was always a strong emphasis of control over indulgence. Thena wanted to feel everything that a discarded daughter was supposed to feel: anger, disappointment and bitterness but there was none of that.
Her mother would question her and tell her that it was a step forward into a greater destiny, but to Thena, it was a step forward into the unknown where the last vestige of who she was would be replaced by something unrecognizable.
She was no longer sure that she wanted to embrace this little death. But I must. Otherwise, all those years of training and discipline will be for nothing.

Steeling herself once more, she curtsied to the King and thanked him for his generous hospitality.

“The bishop of Rochester tells me that you have come a long way for your quest.” Henry VIII said.

“I have.”

“To what do we owe the honor of hosting one of your great race?”

His mockery was evident. Thena was ready for it. Choosing tact, she said with an unseen smile that did not reach her hidden eyes, that she was a foundling from Earth whose quest required her to visit the place of her birth and stay until she severed all ties with it.
“In doing so, I shall prove myself to my mother and to the rest of my clan, and take my place as her successor.”

“You mean your guardian. I am well versed in Mandalorian society thanks to Bishop Rochester, but this is Earth and we take blood ties seriously. However, I will not deny you your request. You have my permission to stay here for as long as you wish but you will have to swear that you will not cause any trouble and stay out of state affairs.” Henry VIII motioned for Cromwell to come forward. “Lord Essex, tell our honorable guest what are the consequences for breaking the rule of law?”

“The New Republic will star to issue Marshalls across various sectors of the galaxy, starting with the systems in the mid-rim sector and later the Outer Rim of which we are part of. Until the latter comes into fruition, every kingdom on earth has complete autonomy on how to deal with unruly off-worldlers.”

“So you see, there is little choice but to comply or else.” Henry VIII said, smiling sardonically at her. “Cranmer here will have you place your hand over the bible and you will repeat after him the oath of compliance. Understood?”

If Thena had her taken her helmet off, the King would see a caustic grin to match his. Since that wasn’t the case, Thena gave a curt nod and turned to the man in question who walked towards her with a black leather bible in his left hand. When finished, Henry offered her a place on the newly rebuilt Bridewell Palace. Thena suppressed the urge to laugh. If the Force was real, it sure had a mordant sense of humor. It’d do her no good to refuse so she accepted and thanked him for his generosity.

~o~

Catherine ignored the pain on her knees. There were many secrets between her and the King and each time it had gotten harder for her to keep the charade of the happy, reconciled couple whose bond had grown stronger in the toughest of times, proving that the oaths they had taken at the altar had been truer than any taken by any King and Consort before them.

She nearly died of laughter when she thought of Stafford and how he had declared that he would die a thousand deaths if he could be with her every night. Despite all the accusations against him, fortune’s wheel had ruled in his favor.

The first years, the Empire had been out for blood, cleansing the galaxy of any Jedi or Force user that could be a threat to the emperor’s power. Maggie Pole had always said her cousin Stafford been special, but nobody suspected to what length. Eager to appear compliant to their new overlords, Henry VIII handed Stafford to him. However, as he was about to board an imperial cruiser, a rebel squadron came and rescued him. His wife and children paid a heavy price for it.

When the second death star blew up and the emperor’s death was confirmed, her husband issued an official pardon for him. A little too late. Catherine’s face twisted in anger as she remembered all the times he had secretly visited her, told her that if he could, he’d repeat the same mistakes all over again so he could be in her presence.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. It had all been for nothing. She was so certain that she had saved her daughter from a life of unending misery, away from Henry and his nest of vipers. But then, fate showed its ugly face. God clearly does not love everyone equally. Until then, Catherine had never questioned his ways. When in doubt, she prayed harder and projected a stronger demeanor to the public. But after all that, there was little faith she had left for her heavenly father. The resilience she still projected was merely a mask - a coping mechanism for her as well as for their subjects (who looked to their leaders for guidance and inspiration). If Henry and Catherine offered them none, there was no reason for them to build their hopes on their successor.

A last tear fell. She laughed again. It was a cruel irony.
God damn her soul for thinking these thoughts but it was the true. If she could trade one life for the life of her darling Princess, she would gladly do so. Mary had been a sweet child. Patient, brave, precocious but also volatile and stubborn when someone did something to make her angry. It was those tiny flare ups, the demonstrations of that famous Tudor temper, which made Catherine appreciate her daughter more.

With Mary gone, there was nothing left for her but to pick up the pieces and start all over. Buckingham was there, extending a hand to help her get back on her feet. And like a fool, she willed herself to believe that this was another golden opportunity. But no sooner did the empire began to assert its authority over the entire galaxy, including Earth, did the cogs in her ex-husband’s mind begin to turn. Playing the role of the mediator, he worked behind the scenes to undermine his fellow Christian brethren in the eyes of the Empire and the Rebel Alliance which ended in their extermination – which in turn left Henry as the sole victor. But no victory could be complete without a male heir. His intended bride was dead and so was the mother of his bastard son. With her pregnancy so close to term, Henry overturned papal decree and re-validated their union.
Catherine reminded him of all the awful things he said, and said some awful things of her own as well but none of that mattered to Henry.

“And if I do not give it to you? Will you lock me up and discard me like you intended to do? I can’t go through that pain again. There are countless others you can marry. You are King and de facto spiritual head of Christianity, you can choose whoever you want and sire a son with her. I need to mourn the loss of my daughter and do what I can for this one. If there is a trace left of what you once felt for me, then let me go.”

Henry’s response was: “And do what? Run in on an adventure with your beloved Buckingham? I am not stupid, Catherine. Wolsey has intercepted your letters. You should be more careful which maids you choose to keep in your household. They have all bore witness to his visits and overheard his promises. How long before you announced to the world that you intended to marry that philandering knave? Seriously, Catherine. Him, of all people.”

Catherine was not fooled by his indignant tone. “What does it matter to you when you constantly kept breaking your vows?” Memories of Bessie Blount, Buckingham’s niece –Lady Anne Stafford- and God only knows how many others. “I was your wife and you preferred Wolsey’s council, Cromwell’s spiritual advice and those whores warming your bed over me.”

“I needed a son. You failed me because of your lie.”

“And for that, believe me, I have never stopped paying a high price. What makes you think this will be a son or if it will even be born alive? God has blessed us with countless children but also cursed us by taking them away from us. We can’t simply start all over and pretend that never happened. It would be something unholy and sacrilegious; none of us would ever be happy.”

“Happiness is something for the lower classes and the dreamers. We have a duty to our subjects and to our realm. If you truly are your parents’ daughter, you will honor your promise or I will make you.”

“No, Henry, I won’t be your pet monkey.” But Henry refused to let her go. With every scholar, disgruntled Catholic Humanists and reluctant Protestants, backing him, he apprehended her and put her under house arrest until their child was born. He was ready in case she didn’t bring the results he wanted. Fortunately for him, fate continued to rule in favor of the wicked.
On the night of the twenty-fourth of June, she gave birth to twin boys.

It was the triumph she always wanted and now that it was here, she wanted nothing more than to die so she could reunite with their sister. But she lived. Four years after they were born, she was blessed with yet another miracle. This time, a girl. The birth of her youngest daughter was a sharp contrast to Mary's birth.
Henry had barely wanted to see his eldest daughter, let alone hold her (despite various attempts on her part to do so). But with two thriving Princes, an heir and a spare, Henry saw no reason not to celebrate the birth of a healthy daughter.

Catherine tried to be positive but every time she saw Constance, she was reminded of Mary. Constance even had some of her tastes. She’d have this goofy smile every time she did something bold or hid something from her prying father. Henry VIII called her the pearl of his world, casually brushing aside that another girl once held that title.

Buckingham was there when she was at her lowest point. Catherine was skulking in the antechamber, having dismissed all her ladies except for Lina and Maria, when he arrived. If it were not for him, she would have probably succumbed to loneliness and thrown herself from the Tower.

“One day, people will speak about the courage of a Princess who bravely took on the reins of power when her husband made a fool of himself in France.” Buckingham told her. The main reason for his visit was to boast of his victory over one of the top sharp Imperial shooters. An officer by the name of Krull Yalos. Aided by spies and infiltrators, Stafford had the last laugh, surprising him from behind in his hiding place where he was getting ready to take out his next target.
The eye patch was still there, he looked a little rougher than before but his good cheer and determination were still present. “It has been long, Your Majesty. I am sorry that I could not come earlier but it would have meant risking the King’s life and I could not live with that on my conscience.”

He'd spoken the truth.  

Catherine glanced at her ladies. Maria bit her under lip while Lina clasped her hands lying on top of her lap. All three off them were seated. Maria on Catherine's right, Lina on her left. The Queen and Lina had not enjoyed a good relationship since she had encouraged Henry to denounce Luther and the other leaders of the Protestant Reformation. Nevertheless, out of self-interest, she and her husband Oviedo stayed. What was misery for some, was a huge opportunity for them. With the rest of Europe collapsing and the Tudors absorbing what was left of it, they knew that their fortunes lay by sticking close with the devil they knew.
Lina was unwilling to admit that she still cared for Catherine; doing so would mean re-establishing a friendship and sisterly bond that the converted Moorish woman didn’t want anymore. So her husband’s self-interest came like a Godsend, the perfect explanation as to why she remain tethered to Catherine. As a result, she guarded her royal mistress’ interests jealously. Seeing the sad smiles, longing looks exchanged between these two alerted her to a terrible disaster that could spell doom for her and everyone else in her household. Lina made all of these concerns known to Catherine after he left in the dead of night.

“He will never debase himself with his best friend’s wife. Much as Henry envies him, Stafford loves him and the King is in dire need of him. His victories, if the Rebel Alliance wins and restores the old republic, will give him a favorable position in the new regime.” be

Catherine pressed both lips together, thinking back at Stafford’s last intimate moment with her. Near-stolen kisses, bodies so close together, sparks flying all around but none of them ever acted on their feelings. There was a deep level of respect and admiration for the two of them to turn it into a mindless fuck.
If Catherine lacked a conscience, she would have thrown caution to the wind and let him claim her but she did have one, so there was little she could do but continue to rule her basic desires. The same thing went for him. Yet, he insisted on self-flagellation, knowing that each time he saw her, he saw something he could never have.
This time was no different, but there was something else added to the equation. Catherine was with child again. And she was visibly more miserable than she had been when she lost her firstborn son. She did not want to eat or be seen in public. Every day she went to church to beg for certain death. She would never do something to harm the innocent life of her unborn child and live with that terrible deed on her conscience. So she decided to take the easy way out, begging God to take both their lives.

Henry had what he wanted from her. Heir and spare, and a replacement for their dead daughter who’d never suffer from neglect and feigned care like her late sister did. You got what you wanted, Harry. Sir Loyal Heart. What a joke! He loved no one but himself; her children weren’t her own. They were his.

But Stafford arrived at the right moment. His presence brought back sweet memories of the golden days when she had Henry’s heart in her safe-keeping, the world was simpler and there was little of the old republic and the galaxy’s affairs intervening in theirs. Still saddened, she no longer felt hopeless.
Still, that wasn’t enough to convince Lina who told her the King’s ministers would just wait for her to birth the babe and then use gossip-mongers to ruin her, so they could marry the King to a more compliant wife.

“You and Maria have persevered, as has your husband Oviedo. If they get one of those surviving royals to wear my crown, she will owe everything she has to them. She will be their perfect little puppet, and Henry’s subservient servant who’ll be spied by more experienced ladies.”

“This is not a game, Catalina. When you encouraged the King to burn those books and punish those men, I asked you how far you will go to rid England of heretics. You never responded; you did not need to. You knew what you wanted and had your mind all made up. The new King’s wife will have Cromwell’s spies placed on her household. There is no version of this where he will use me or Maria to fill that role, knowing we stood by and guided the King’s act during those savage times.”

Catherine flinched at Lina’s last words. She had never been this reproachful; not even when she had chastised her for her actions back then.
“You need to hear this, Catalina. Otherwise, it won’t just be you who pays the high price.” Lina reminded her of Maria’s husband who had been tortured by the empire when they received an anonymous tip that he was working as a spy for the rebel alliance. Catherine urged Henry to do something, but he stayed silent, justifying his actions with the old excuse  that one life was nothing next to the security of the realm.
“Not a day goes by we do not pray for his soul and the souls of many others. Cromwell is on thin ice, he is not loved by either side. If he gets what he wants, the empire will be thrilled because they have wanted the perfect excuse to turn the continent into a pile of glass like Mandalore.”

“You speak of justice, fairness but were your ancestors fair when they tortured and raped Christians,or mine when they did it among themselves? Christian, Muslim, Jew, or anything else in between, it’s all the same in the end. The empire knows that. It doesn’t need to wait for one greedy courtier to wipe us out from the face of the earth.”

Catherine’s softened her tone. A hand fell to her flat belly. “If it is God’s will, then let his will be done, as in here as it is in heaven.”

Lina cringed at her words. Catherine was visibly the same young woman she pledged her life to before they left Spain for England, but the death of her daughter drastically changed her. When the two women saw their mistress, they didn’t see Catherine but an impostor who looked and sounded like her but was nothing like the proud daughter of Isabella I of Castilla and Ferdinand II of Aragon.

Fate came back to mock her, reminding her that she was nothing but a puppet dancing on a string. The empire lost. With the emperor and his hell-hound dead, it was open season for imperials. The imperial remnants were still strong in some sectors, but not strong enough to restore the old regime.

Edward Stafford was hailed as a hero, along with other terrestrials who returned to their home planet to reap the benefits of the honor they had brought to their respective kingdoms. Henry gave Edward his lands and title back. He was a man of power and prestige once again, but the envy Henry felt for him remained. More so now that he had begun to notice how much time they were spending together.

His first warning came in the form of a friendly reminder, then, when they kissed, he took her out hunting and took her down from her horse and dragged her near the river, threatening to drown her if she carried on with her affair.
Catherine coldly laughed at him, telling him he was a fool for thinking entertaining those wild theories.
“I saw you Catherine! Don’t insult my intelligence.”

“I am not! It was only once, Henry. Only once but if you want me to give you any excuse to feel better about killing your Queen then so be it. I loved it, kissing him gave me a glimpse of the life I could have had if I had not been a fool for thinking I could ever be happy with you.”

“Better a whore than a Queen? Juana was right, you’re not your mother’s daughter.”

“No, I am not. My mother was a great woman, I am not half the woman she is.” Catherine said, feeling weaker with every word she said. She had come to terms during her last pregnancy when she had contemplated death, how different she was from her mother. The indomitable spirit of Isabella would have triumphed against all men, and imposed her will on every single one of them. “I have paid the price for my lie and not being in our daughter’s place. “

“It is always about you. You’re not the only one who lost a child, Catherine. I grieve for Mary but life is for the living and instead of digging ourselves into a hole, we need to make the most of this life for our children that are still living. We owe it to them and the next generation to enjoy a better tomorrow than we ever did.”

“Don’t come to me with that visionary ego trip. I am not one of your common subjects that you can convince with your ostentatious rhetoric. I was your wife.”

“You still are and the mother of my children. You should start acting like it.”

“I was a wife. Once. When I believed that I could make my dreams come true but those dreams were stolen from me and all that I have now is a hollow crown. Mary might be old history to you but I will never forget her.”

“For better and for worse, in sickness and in health. We grieve together and we will die together.” He let her go only to grab her again, tightening his grip on her arm when she refused to comply. His force however only made her more rebellious. She yanked her arm and pushed him to the ground, ran to her horse and traveled back to Greenwich.

She pushed every passing courtier then locked herself in her chamber and screamed. She was chained in a cursed marriage and there was no way out. Ignoring the ogling stares, the Duke of Buckingham burst into her chambers and asked her to go away with her to one of the core worlds of the New Republic. It was a tempting offer, but Henry was not a forgiving man. Without all three terrestrial kingdoms in agreement, Earth could not be under the protection of the New Republic. With the imperial remnants still on the run, Catherine could not afford to let Earth be stuck between two super powers again so at the expense of her personal happiness, she told Edward that they should each go their own way.

All for nothing.

As a reward for four thriving children and staying virtuous, Henry let her attend council meetings and re-appointed her as his official regent in his absence. She was back where she started, where she had always wanted. It was a pyrrhic victory but a victory nonetheless. And in the end, for a woman like Catherine, who had nothing else to live for, that was all that mattered.

Her personal physician, Doctor de la Sa, came in to inform her that the King’s new honored guest would be staying at Bridwell. Catherine walked downstairs where the Mandalorian woman stood.

27 YEARS AGO, EARTH

Mary hugged her knees to her chest. She was afraid

Mary pressed her hands to her ears, but she couldn’t shut out the screams. “Stop it. Stop it. I said stop it!” Tired of hearing pain and anguish, she came out of her hiding spot –her wardrobe-, quickly grabbed a knife from one of the runaway cooks the wounded clone trooper had killed and thrust it on his side. The clone trooper reacted quickly. He grabbed his pistol and pointed it at her. Mary did not close her eyes. She was going to be brave and stare death in the face so when she reached the gates of St. Peter, she could boast that she wasn’t afraid because God was on her side.
The shot never came.
Another armored guard she did not recognize came in and shot the clone trooper dead. Looking down at the child Princess, she extended her hand and offered to come with her.

“Come,” she said. “You have already shown that you are fearless in the face of danger. Did you know this man?” She pointed to the dead cook. Mary nodded.

“A shame. He did not finish the deed and neither did you. By your size and age, it is excusable. But you still have a lot to learn. If the clone trooper had not taken off his armor to tend to his wounds, you would not have caused him a single scratch. You must forget your life here; to the world you are dead but to us, your new life is just beginning.”

Mary remembered her parents’ fighting. Her mother’s tears afterwards and everyone’s disappointed looks when foreign ambassadors boasted of their masters’ sons while her father had nothing but her bastard half-brother and her.

Looking at all the death and destruction as the armored lady took her away from the wreckage, Mary silently said goodbye to her old life.

Chapter Text

Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger. Anger leads to hate. Hate leads to suffering. - Master Yoda in Star Wars: Episode I: The Phantom Menace (1999)

There was little to be said about how his predicament began. One thing he was certain of. History would not be kind to him. He was still wrestling with the idea of the horrors that awaited him in the afterlife. Then again, I have survived many attempts, have I not?

Henry VIII turned away from the sorry sight. The man who had always been by his side was growing tired. Thomas More requested to be sent home, to reunite with his ailing wife Margaret, and live the rest of his days in peace. Henry was tempted to grant him that last wish but he could not. He needed Thomas' company. He was his moral compass and a living reminder of when he was young and hopeful.

A page arrived at the scene to tell the aging Humanist and Chancellor that Henry requested his presence. It did not take long for Thomas to reach Henry VIII's study. "Your son is not with you." Thomas noted, expecting to find the Prince of Wales seated next to his father. Or his wife who despite her humble disposition was a fast learner. 

"Your Majesty."

"It is Harry when we are alone, Thomas. I am not too old to have lost to have lost the privileged of dispensing formalities when we are alone."

"Forgive me Harry. Acquired habits die harder than old ones."

"You always fancied speaking in riddles. I wish that things were the same as they were before, Thomas. You must realize by now that if the truth comes out, it could have serious implications on all of us."

"I made a promise before the cross, I do not intend to break it." Thomas said, deadly serious. He had condemned himself to a life of eternal damnation, what was one more thing to add him to the top of God's blacklist? "I did not expect she'd ever be back."

"Mandalorians are divided. They either hide to rebuild their forces or spread terror on the imperial remnants in the mid rim and outer rim regions. She has been groomed to be a leader since she was whisked away; this is her last test. She passes when she severs all ties with the past and can move on to the next step to earn her place as her mother's heir."

Henry's eyes showed no emotion as he spoke, but Thomas (who knew him better than most) saw traces of sadness in them. The Queen was wrong to think that her husband was an uncaring, cold, dastardly man. He had been there when Henry swung Princess Constance in his arms when he showed her off to the self-styled Jedi Master and hero of the New Republic, Luke Skywalker, as Mary.

The girl who had once been his beloved pearl had been replaced by another. Or so people loved to whipser. Thomas More knew better. He cringed on that day, seeing how quickly his former pupil's defenses broke when he was in the presence of that Jedi Master. Luke Skywalker saw through the King's facade, penetrated his defenses and brought out the humanity that he had been working hard to hide.

Fortunately for his former pupil, Thomas was there. The laughing philosopher -as he was once called- stepped in and told the Jedi Master that it was impossible not to compare a girl with flaming red hair, fair features and sapphire eyes to the Queen of Heaven when she was the epitome of female virtue.
Luke Skywalker was not convinced but who cared what that space wizard thought?

Henry does. So do the others. Unlike most of the galaxy which had chosen to forget the old days, the earth had not. All three kingdoms had kept the records of the old Jedi order from the times of the old republic. Few of them had forgotten the extent of their powers and the danger they posed to ordinary folks.

Henry in particular had not been too thrilled when he was told that the Force had been strong in his family and he could pass it on to the next generation. The thought of one of those Force users wearing the crown of St Edward would be enough to turn the other kingdoms against him. And his own people too.

The English had an air of superiority. Rome still clung to the old faith, Lutherans believed that it was fair game to publicly shame Jews, Muslims and Catholics while the Calvinists and other Evangelicals who ran the 'perfect school of Christ' unapolegitically persecuted everyone who wasn't of their faith. All of them had one thing in common though. None of them believed that the Jedi were godsend. They saw them as accursed beings whom they were forced to tolerate but disliked with a passion. They had hated the empire and encouraged some of their flock to join the rebellion, but they had applauded the emperor's decision to eliminate every Force-sensitive. Of the few who were in their circles, they had willingly given to the empire to kill or experiment.

Thomas had no qualms about seeing the fires of the counter-reformation cleansing the souls of heretics but this had been different. Men, women and children were targeted by every Christian sect and sacrificed at the altar of righteousness. All of this made Thomas change his mind. He began to see the world differently. Maggie Pole helped him a great deal. He helped her recover from her guilt and she in turn, tore the religious blindfold from his eyes.

Thomas mind traveled when he discovered Margaret Pole underneath that rubble. He never stopped thanking God for her survival even if he afterwards continued to vainly atone for their many sins.

Well-intentioned words are often misunderstood. Consequently, to avoid another endless sermon from their offspring, they sought a secret papal dispensation from the weakened pope in addition to the one granted by their King. 

"How more can they demand of her? Her name is whispered in all corners of the underworld." 

"It is not her name they care about." Henry reminded his friend. "If she can keep their secret while instilling the code in future generations through the written word and her example, she'll have earned her place in the Annals of their histories."

"It is not a fate to be envied. She is a young woman, she wasn't born to be a warrior."

"No one is but it is the life that was handpicked for her and it is too late to turn back the clock." There was a tinge of regret in Henry's voice.

Henry had never had a slip of the tongue regarding his eldest daughter until Luke Skywalker came to Earth. What was worse was that his wife was there. Maggie immediately exited the room, telling her companions she wasn't feeling well.

All of a sudden, Mary was back because of some silly ancient ritual the Mandalorians needed her to complete to prove her worth. He hoped that Maggie would not know. His wife could not bear to look at her old charge in the face and see how much she had changed. 

"If she goes back and tells them that she completed the task, no one will know but she will and she did not strike me in the short time she had an audience with me as the person who would forsake her honor."

"Then get it over with it, quickly. Make her see there is nothing for her here and she will fly back to her kind."

Henry smirked. "I sent her to Catherine."

"Why would you do that? If Catherine finds out she is alive she will never forgive you."

"She already blames me for everything, Thomas. What is one more thing to hold against me?" Henry said, sitting back down. "Seeing Catherine will inform our daughter that the parents she craves have moved on."

"Children have long memories. They seldom forget and much less forgive." Thomas said, thinking back to his eldest daughter.

"What will you do if she doesn't pass this test and she stays here? Will you recognize her or will you leave her homeless in a galaxy where she will be devoid of friends and allies?"

Henry's smirk disappeared. He seemed pensive but his thoughtful expression was shortlived as his smirk returned. "She is a Tudor. Tudors do not quit. She has been raised in the ways of Mandalore the Great, the Jedi and the Mandalorian who established the rules for all Mandalorian society. Mandalorian society is all she knows. She will place duty before her own feelings."

"If the New Republic found out the truth, they'll use it to blackmail us."

"Thank goodness then that the wheel of fortunes spins in our favor. You have been a good friend and mentor, Thomas. Nothing would please me more than to send you into early retirement but I still need you. I need to be certain that she will choose the right course. You are one of the few who know the truth, and the only person I can trust to change her mind should she choose unwisely."

Anna was curious to meet their new visitor. Her lady mother didn't want to receive her when she was present. "Why?" She had inquired when the Mandalorian left her manor. 

Catherine of Aragon refused to give her a concrete answer, going off on a tangent as she usually did whenever Anna called her mother.

Anna didn't see what the big deal was. It was a sign of respect. She was after all her husband's mother and a renowned religious matron who was deeply beloved by her subjects, Protestants and Catholics alike.

But the older woman was easily triggered by it. Anna had tried calling her something else, like her given title of Queen, but it was too hard to override over a decade of her strict upbringin in Cleves.

With the Mandalorian absent, Anna  tried to make up for lost time. Last year the two women had hardly spent any time together. There was much to show and tell. Anna had presented simple gifts to her mother-in-law which she was sure the Queen would appreciate. The first were two shirts she had done and the second was the blanket her firstborn son Henry and later her husband Edmund had been wrapped in during their Christening.

At once, Catherine caught the underlying meaning behind them.

"You're with child." She said without preamble. "How far along are you?"

"Three months. Edmund and I are ecstatic. We have been trying for years but it looks like God might finally be among down on us." Anna said, her lips curled into a wide smile. Without warning, she took the Queen's hands and squeezed them gently. "Will you pray with me good mother so that we can give our little princess a brother for her to look after?"

"Maybe it will be another girl. Have you thought of that?"

"After all the blessings God has given us? Why would He send us a healthy girl if not to prepare us for a future prince? Please do me the honors of start this prayer."

You are good at being the humble, being royal but I was better.

She was overwrought with guilt. Edmund and his brothers were good boys. They took more after her than their father. At times, Edmund even reminded her of her first husband. But she could not stop her jealousy from taking over her. Here was this ignorant girl from an insignificant duchy who had quickly supplanted her in the hearts of her noble subjects.

But I still retain common people's affections. 

Anna is a simple woman. She was the type of royal wife the nobles wanted out of a Consort but for the commons, whose lives hung on a thread, they benefited more from someone who was not afraid to speak for them.

Anna gave an additional response that came in the form of a simple, sweet smile that nevertheless had a disarming effect on her elders, including her mother-in-law. 

"Mother dearest, you have been a good role model to me, a credit for our sex, much admired and praised. It'd be too unfair for God to give us an additional blessing of another royal lady to take after you."

Catherine's lips moved. She was about to say something but decided not to. So instead she settled for granting her wish. 

While they said the Lord's prayer in unison, they mentally wished for different things.

It was not hard to discern what Anna wished for. Catherine on the other hand, remained a mystery for Anna.

In the privacy of their bedchamber, where Anna had retired for the night and reunited with her husband, she confided with Edmund about her suspicions.

"My mother is a sad woman, Anna. It's no use trying to get into her head. Even if one could, I doubt anyone would like what they saw." Edmund said, moving closer to his wife.

Deep down there was the underlying truth in his words which both of them were unable to voice outloud. Much less admit in the case of Anna. The German royal still had high hopes she and Catherine could be friends someday. 

Catherine was envious of Anna. Originally meant for his fraternal brother William, she had fallen in love with Edmund instead. Before the marriage document could be sealed, the two love birds confessed their love and threatened to run off and marry if they weren't allowed to be together.

His mother was furious but she was wise not to show it in public. Instead, she shamed him, inventing all sorts of rumors about having affairs with countless ladies at court. Those were all blatant lies of course. The heartbreaker was his youngest brother, Johnny. But his mother was so overtaken by jealousy that she was willing to throw him under the carriage so she could not see the two of them happy.

Unlike her, Anna would never have to contend with a great matter. The issue of her marriage will never be put in question -and neither will her offspring's royal claim- because she wasn't previously married to another crown heir.

The thought of (what she seemed as) a simple creature having this good fortune was unacceptable for the proud Queen. The birth of their daughter (whom they named Mary) made things even worse.

It didn't help that she also happened to be born in the month his late sister was born into.

The first months of their marriage, Anna had worked tirelessly convincing him not to snap at his mother every time she made a snide comment. She told him to forgive and put aside his anger, replacing it with sorrow.

Edmund couldn't do it. He had forgiven many of his mother's coldness towards the years but this was simply unforgivable. Yet, Anna turned out to be right.

It took him five years but he eventually saw the wisdom behind Anna's forgiving passive approach.

Anna was indeed, as his mother said, a simple woman. Her empathy along with her natural charisma were what had won him over. When she arrived to England, she was afraid of her own shadow. He helped her come out of her shell which in turned her assertive. After they confessed their love, she surprised him by suggesting he go to his parents while they were with the privy council and demand that they change the conditions of the marriage contract to replace his brother as her groom.

Anna was not a schemer but she was highly observant. She had learned fast how the court operated and unapologetically used their love for her own advantage.

My mother used blatant manipulation under the guise of divine destiny and devotion. Anna did not need to make things so complicated. His wife always understood that honesty and sweetness were deadlier weapons.

"Even so, she is still a woman with a big secret. Call it woman's intuition but I can tell. That Mandalorian woman must have said or did something to upset her."

"I doubt it was something she said. She is another zealot from that warrior cult."

"Your brothers admire it. So does your father."

"My father admires everything that reminds him of his glory days which I have to constantly remind him exist only in his head."

"He is not young as he once was, Edmund. He wants to leave you a legacy you and our future son can be proud of."

"Whatever legacy there is to be left, it will be of my making. Not his. The Empire is gone, the new republic offers a lot of opportunities for a planet like ours. All these petty squabbles among ourselves are nothing compared to what can awaits us in the stars."

"You are your father's son, my love and I hope this one is too but promise me, you'll ask your mother what ails her. Maybe she will be more open with you."

Edmund made a sound that signaled his incredulity.

"Be direct with her. But not too direct." Anna quickly added, meaning to say like your father. "Treat her with reverence, in a way she doesn't feel the weight of her age but also feels grateful to you for showing her care."

That was going to be a hard one. Two years younger than His Majesty, at sixty one years old, Catherine of Aragon had little patience for attention seekers and everyone else looking to win her favor. Sporting gorgeous, expensive gowns and still retaining her natural hair color and vibrant green eyes, the Queen was well aware that she looked less worn than women of her age. Nevertheless, she remained a hard woman to charm.

"Are you so certain it was that Mandalorian which upset her?"

"You know your mother, Edmund. Nothing upsets her unless the source of her grief is a member of her family. We can easily rule ourselves out. So it must be someone else that this Mandalorian used to drive her mad."

"The empire couldn't break our radical fighters with all of their sadistic interrogation tactics. Why would this Mando woman succeed where they failed?"

"You said it yourself. Mandalorians are zealots who'll stop at nothing in the name of their creed. This young woman is on a quest. As far as she is concerned, she can do whatever she wants. She is a pilgrim in an unholy land."

Anna had a good point there but he still couldn't see how she could find so much about his family.

"Then she has no idea what kind of Babylon she has stepped into."

"You'll do it then?"

Edmund nodded, resigning himself; Anna had piqued his interest knowing full well that his curiosity was one of his weak points.

With this matter settled, Anna blew out the candles resting on top of her drawer and got closer to Edmund.

Thena took off her helmet. 

The meeting with her birth mother had not gone as planned. Did she know she'd recognize me? Thena smirked. Of course her mother would know her birth mother would recognize her even with her helmet on.

This is the way -she thought after she finished her dinner. The Queen had been gracious enough to tell the servants to leave a plate of food outside her door so she could have more privacy.

Before getting to bed, Thena grabbed the mirror laying there. It had a Latin inscription on it. One she recognized as an invented phrase and motto she had written in her journals when she had been Princess Mary.

Veritas Temporia er Filias - Truth, the daughter of time. Despite getting off on the wrong foot, the Queen still showed her generosity by giving her this small piece of remembrance from a dead past.

Her reflection revealed middle length red hair, slightly above her shoulders, blue eyes with tint of green, elfin face with other fair features.

There was no question who her parents were. Yet, she didn't feel a strong connection to them. She should be grateful for that but rather than being content, she felt guilty.

Stop fooling torturing yourself. Mary is long gone. You are Thena, one of the deadliest warriors of your clan. 

If she could not sever ties with these people, she would not be welcomed back into Mandalorian society.

I have to let go. As much as it pained her seeing them, she had to so she could give them and herself closure.

But her mother had refused to accept. The Queen was living in the past and had this twisted fantasy of reliving the old days with her adult daughter.

But she will see in the end how there is nothing left of that innocent girl in me and when she does, she will put the final nail in the coffin and lay Mary to rest once and for all.

Chapter Text

"New blood joins this earth and quickly is subdued.
Through constant pain and disgrace, the young boy learns their rules
with time the child draws in
this whipping boy done no wrong
deprived of all his thought
the young man struggle on and on ...

Never from this day, his will's taken away
What I've felt, what I've known
never shine through in what I've shown
never be, never see
won't seem what I have been ...
never free, never me so I'm dubbed the unforgiven

They dedicate their lives to running out of his
he tries to please them all, this bitter man he is
through out his life he's shamed
he's battled constantly this fight he cannot win
a tired man they see who no longer cares.
The old man then prepares to die regretfully.
That old man here is me ...
~The Unforgiven by Metallica

Edward splashed water on his face. Three long years. That was how long it had been since he last saw her. He wanted to dispense with the formalities and have what was owed to him. But since when did Plantagenets ever had it easy?

After she left it clear that the two of them would never have a future together, he settled into his new role of joint delegate of Earth in the New Republic at Hosnian prime. He was one of three. The other two were elite members of their own kingdoms – people he had nothing in common but he put up with for his planet’s sake.

Sometimes he fantasized of what his life would have been if Catherine had never given birth to those twin boys. In a cruel twist of fate, it was her womb which condemned – though not in the way she’d ever imagine.

Henry really had no need of her. Or so he thought. The more reports he received from his homeworld, the less convinced he became of this.

Deep down, that man still loved her. Henry would never admit it. Not even for all the gold and power in the world. That was how proud his old friend and cousin was. In that, he and Catherine were equally matched.

The King still had the fantastical ability to convince everyone that his version of events was the truth. He could stand before a million of his subjects and say that the sky was pink and no one would deny it.

After all the pain and betrayal he caused his fellow rulers, people still saw him as the prince that was promised, King Arthur reborn.

He was of Pendragon’s blood alright, but it was not their celebrated member he resembled.

It is not use to dwell in would-bes. The reflection that greeted him was of a seasoned man who (in spite of his expensive attire) looked more like a warrior than a politician.

That is what you are, old man. The accursed Plantagenet heritage was too strong for the Woodville’s golden and divine ancestry to vanquish. Besides, the Staffords dark mane were proof that gold always yielded to black. There was an exception of course. That was his older brother whom he was named after. Born in 1478, nearly four years before him, he was everything his mother dreamed of in a son. When he died, she blamed her eldest sister and her niece, the Queen Dowager and her oldest daughter, Princess Elizabeth, of casting a curse over him out of spite because her son got to live while her two boys mysteriously disappeared from the Tower of London.
It was nonsense but his mother was a paranoid wreck after that. It did not help that his father wanted nothing to do with her anymore. It took a lot of her feminine wiles to get him back into his bed and conceive another child. Only to her misfortune when she found out that she was pregnant, his father was beheaded as a traitor and she in turn was in danger of losing his inheritance. Thankfully, none of that took place.

His mother thanked God daily for that. Edward knew better who to thank. It was out of a hypocritical act of mercy that he got to inherit all of his father’s lands and titles, in addition to his seat at court as a premier noble of England. Margaret Beaufort, the Countess of Richmond and her son, Henry VII of the new ruling House of Tudor, had seen to that.
Two obscure branches with no claim except for their own eloquence and the brilliance of lawyers that helped them convince the public of that.

Edward hated feeling like he owed anything to anyone so every day he dreamed of when he’d be his own man. Away from all the verbal rows and dramas of politics. But his fate was sealed when Henry VII’s youngest and only surviving son became King of England. Everyone saw that no good would come from marrying his brother’s wife but like a pouty child who was told he couldn’t have a piece of sweet, he insisted. But when Henry got what he wanted, the passion he and his Queen shared waned as soon as Princess Mary was born.

He confided in Edward and others that God was displeased with him. He’d have no legitimate sons to carry on the Tudor line and keep the peace in England unless he annulled his union to Catherine. Edward thought little of it. Men said many awful things about their wives behind their backs. Usually they did not meant it. He had been guilty of that himself. But after the Queen had been publicly humiliated by Henry’s new mistress, Mary Boleyn, Edward saw that he was serious.

By then, his wife had died. He had flirted with many women during her lifetime. Each of them were a cheap version of Catherine. He believed that in engaging in meaningless sex he’d take her out of his mind but it only made it worse. What he tried so hard to convince himself as an obsession was something far more dangerous that –if discovered- could endanger the life of every member of his family.

By then, it was also too late for that. Wolsey was on his tail. The Queen declared that she had a heavenly vision that told her that she had to obey her conscience and renounce her sin. Edward couldn’t help but smirk when her messenger was sent to the King to tell him this before all his lords and ladies, including his new mistress. He did not know what was funnier. The Queen having a bigger pair than the King could ever hope to have and politely telling him she wanted nothing to do with him, or that she had been the first one to initiate the annulment procedures.

It was all another farce. Catherine had indeed had a vision, but it was not of God. She had conveniently omitted that one of the terrible things she saw was his execution. Wolsey had long waited for the right moment to bring him down because of his blatant opposition regarding his draconian legal methods and dismissal of the commons, as well as his French sympathies which ran contrary to the Queen’s interests.

With Catherine free, he had carte blanche to grow closer to her.

“Careful with the things you treasure. Do not grow attached, lest our ancestors come back and snatch them for you. Happiness is something they never had and they cannot stomach us having it.” –His mother had warned before she died a bitter, resentful, old woman.

He watched Catherine through the holo-reports. Her transformation from an ambitious, hopeful young woman to a resentful, cold, calculating harridan was painful to watch.

God will never forgive him for his wicked thoughts. There would be no golden gates awaiting him when death came knocking at his door.

You made your bed old man, you have to get used to it. He tried but his interactions with members of the New Republic in the Senate left him with a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Every day he had to pretend for these arrogant upstarts who thought little of him, his colleagues and their homeworld. As far as they were concerned, terrestrials were a separate species from the human race altogether who did not deserve the privilege of forming part of the restored galactic republic.

Earth’s savagery was legendary. Tales were spun, some more exaggerated than others, about all kinds of things they did among themselves in the name of faith and power.
However, that wasn’t the only reason why their superior Human cousins and select non-Human species could not stand them. Terrestrials were, in their wise opinion, a dastardly, idiotic bunch who fought over the most trivial things and cared more about their reputation than the future of their planet.

Edward did not deny any of that. However, his life-experiences had taught him that there was beauty in broken things. Perfection could not be loved or attained so it was quickly dismissed. Broken things on the other hand could be rebuilt into something new and far more beautiful.

All three of them –Edward, Catherine and the King- were proof of that. Underneath their hard exterior was a light that still burned bright.

He pushed some of his greying hair back. Traces of black remained at the top but they were fast fading. He had been offered a new implant for his lost eye all the way back to the days of the rebel alliance but he continuously refused.
The past is past had been his mother’s motto and it was now his as well. He put on his eye patch and went to his bedchamber were fresh clothes lay on his bed.

Completely dressed, he went out of his apartment, heading straight to the new Senate building. Time for the show to start. It was a court of fools. For all its faults, there was a certain code on Earth that even the lowest of the low abided by. People were brutal but in brutality lay honesty.
His mind traveled to the last report he received from Earth from Maggie’s son. The King continued to leave his Queen as his Regent in his absence, though that was slowly changing. The exotic fashions, majestic composure and charitable image that she had projected to Henry VIII’s subjects which had captured their hearts, was being replaced by another simpler, humbler princess.
Maggie’s son was honest, using coded messages in case Lord Essex or any other of the King’s cronies read them before they got sent to him. He detailed how Catherine continued to appear unamused and disinterest in her daughter-in-law and continuously rebuffed many of her attempts at striking a friendship with the older woman. In her heart and soul, Catherine knew that she’d always maintain her power base as long as Henry VIII was alive and had enough supporters of hers in all the Christian realms. But the problem with her line of thinking was that they were growing old and quickly being replaced by new men who saw things differently – which her eldest son happened to like.
From their point of view, Catherine was the bridge between the old world and the new. A woman of notable strengths and virtues, but also terrible weaknesses. Anna of the old Duchy of Cleves on the other hand, was the epitome of feminine Christian virtue. Compliant, passive, sweet and publicly silent – speaking only when she was spoken to.

The Queen still had some men she could trust but they were not enough to withstand the coming tide.
He did not read the rest of his report. It contained something about an off world visitor – something that did not concern him. Essex, Lisle and the rest of that bunch were the ones to handle such matters. Not him. He and the other two delegates’ job was to keep up the appearances in this galactic fool’s court.

As he entered galactic senate building, he spotted the other two. The only woman in the group had distinguished herself in battle during the galactic civil war but he hardly knew her because they had served under different commanders.
Ming-Na Zhang was a personable, easy-going woman. At first glance, she dispensed with the pleasantries made easy conversation and everyone, giving the impression that she was a bag full of sweets but upon close inspection, an experienced character like him could see that her smiles and merry laughs never reached her eyes. During the last days of the galactic civil war, she had been mistaken as a ghost. She used clever deception and guerilla tactics she had learned from her father –an old war veteran who had been renowned for his fanatic loyalty to the Chinese emperor- and her uncle –who thought not being a veteran, had earned a reputation as one of the most merciless tax collectors and civil servants of Emperor Giocangga’s reign.
She got out of one skirmish after she cried her eyes out, acting like a helpless maiden. Her sham was effective. The imperial officer who had just been promoted to his post after her platoon had killed his commanding officer, believed she was telling the truth and offered to assist find her parents.
Ming-Na was only sixteen at the time but she was already a vicious killer. The minute that imperial offered her, her hand he was doomed.
Rumors abounded about how she made a mess of him. Most of them were bombastic tales but there was always a bit of truth in legends and by his dealings with her, and his own experiences in Henry VIII’s court, he knew better than to judge a book by his cover.

After a quick greeting from her and their colleague, they proceeded to meet with other officials.
Senator Leia Solo, the Alderaanian Princess who planet was destroyed and continued to be hailed as a war hero, was there. Absent was the self-styled Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker, the pretentious X-Wing fighter pilot and propagandist Shara Bey and her husband, as well as Senator Solo’s husband, General Han Solo.

Good, less faces I have to pretend and please.

The truth was, those people made him nervous. The New Republic had a bad opinion of Earth and its three kingdoms as it was. Luke, Shara Bey and every other of those space wizards could tip the balance further against them. There was something about the force sensitives that rubbed him the wrong way. He was not blessed with any of their gifts, but he had a good intuition which told him to beware of these new Jedi.

Edmund introduced himself to the Mandalorian. “I have read tales of your bravery. Your lady mother is renowned for her leadership and prowess in battle as in the steel work.”

“I will tell her you said that.”

“Are the legends true?” The Prince of Wales asked when she began to turn her back if she was being trained in metal work as her successor.

“You put too much weight in these rumors. Mandalorian culture is not what you hear; our ways are our own to keep and discern.”

“Apologies if I seemed too bold but you cannot blame me for being curious. Many Humanists are. A lady such as yourself, earning her first kill at sixteen is a feat, even by your standards.”

“It’s hardly a feat. The youngest female warrior in Mandalore was a year younger than I was when she fought against the Jedi.” Thena informed him. She quickly turned the conversation around, cutting all corners to get straight to the point. “My mother was trained by the deadliest assassins before the ruling Duchess Satine of clan Kryze cut us off from Mandalorian society. Since then, we have had to survive taking all sorts of jobs where we can still maintain an ounce of our honor.”

“Murder is not honorable, my lady.” Edmund pointed out.

Thena smirked from underneath her dark purple chrome helmet. Half of her armour consisted of the finest Beskar. It was enough to inspire fear in her enemies, but not enough to raise an eyebrow. Din Djarin always sarcastically remarked that it would be a long way for her to go to get to her mother’s level. There was some truth in his argument. Thena was not yet at her mother’s level but she was quickly getting there.
One day, my legend will be born. I will die happy knowing that I made mark in my history for future Mandalorian generations to take inspiration from.

That was the whole purpose behind her existence. Every Mandalorian lived to fight to keep the legacy of Mandalore the Great alive. There was no room for failure or in-betweens. It was all or nothing.

“A single act on the right side of history can overturn contemporary condemnation and make it legal. My life is at the service of my brethren and those I am quested to protect.”

“What if you are not quested? Are you not obliged by a moral code to protect your fellow man?”

“Of course I am. We all are. This galaxy is a meaningless void until we give it a meaning worth living for. Some though do not see it that way and don’t bat an eye for stomping on the less fortunate and defenseless, pathetic creatures.”

“You have an admirable code but your view of those less fortunate is harsh. You can’t blame those that have been born on the wrong side of the blanket or are paying for their parents’ sin. If you leave no room for redemption, you’re going to create more problems.” Edmund said, deadly serious. He was considering his own reign as he said this. His father had done a great disservice to his fellow Christians. But he couldn’t hold it entirely against him when the other Kings had let themselves fall right into their trap. Even so, his father had no right to play on their fears and prejudice.
Edmund vowed to be a different king when he sat on his father’s throne.

“Oh, on the contrary, I agree with you, Your Highness. There has to be a path for redemption but you mistake redemption with permissiveness. That can’t be tolerated.”

She has a point there. However, the way she spoke reminded him of his father and Cromwell when they used trickery and dissimulation to get others to do their bidding.

“You are a good man but the galaxy is an unforgiving place. We all have our boundaries we’re not willing to cross until we have to. For your people’s sake, I pray that you don’t have to face some of the tough choices your ancestors had to, to secure your realm.”

“I hope the good Lord hears you. Pardon my forwardness, if it bothers you, feel free to tell me. I will take no offense. I am always eager to hear what’s on everyone’s mind.”

Thena’s smirk turned into a heartfelt smile. You are too young and too good for this world, young Prince. Wait a couple of years and you will be hardened by the burden of ruling. There was a touching innocence in his face that made him seem like an open book. However, like their birth mother, his eyes sometimes showed a glimmer of cold calculation that revealed that this Prince had a hidden mean streak which offered an interesting foreshadowing about the type of King he’d become.

“Then the Kingdom of Christ is fortunate to have you.”

The two talked a little longer. There were plenty of topics they discussed. The crown Prince was an insightful man who wasn’t shy about his passions and dreams. But how long before that innocence is brushed aside by that cold, calculating nature? His parents were Catherine of Aragon and Henry VIII. Through both of them, he’d inherit a greater realm than any of his ancestors could have ever dreamed of. All that utopic vision and hopeful dreams will be gone in a flash once he sits on his father’s throne.
There were some who considered the chair cursed.
Some of her more superstitious fellow Mandalorians thought that the only cure for Christian Kings was to burn it down, along with the stone of Scone.
She never saw eye to eye with the more fanatical bunch of her brethren. Cursed as these ancient things were, they were a piece of history which deserved to be preserved. Her opinion was reinforced once she saw her birth father sitting on that accursed chair. He proudly wore the crown of St Edward, studded with new gemstones that had been acquired from the crowns of his vanquished foes. On his left index finger was the regal of France – the ring he got from the tomb of Thomas Beckett (the slain archbishop of Canterbury who died due to Henry II of England’s big mouth). This was the age of dead legends and no innocents left. It was a cold era, ripe for the picking where only the strongest survived.
Her heart once again beat faster thinking of her brother’s inheritance.

Blood is thicker than water when it comes to his family. She had to sever the ties that still connected her to this place at all cost.

Their conversation was put at an end by the King’s messenger. It was his bastard son, the Duke of Richmond, Henry Fitzroy. Thena had vague memories of him. Seeing him again made the visit to her homeworld feel more real.

“She is all yours brother, do not expect her to get philosophical, she has had enough of me for one day.” Edmund said, slapping his brother’s back playfully.

His older half-brother chuckled. “You are not the only one with a penchant for philosophical debate, future King.”

“Madame, please excuse my brother poor timing. Our father is still long to this world. Your jokes are in poor taste, Hal.”

“Nonsense, the ladies love me more for them.” Hal said with a winning smile.

Princes. One born on the wrong side of the blanket, and the other fated to inherit their father’s crown. In the end, they were both cut of the same cloth. Tudor through and through.

Now that her mind began to think wildly about the brothers’ company she never got to enjoy, she could not stop her mind from running wild with alternate timetables of a life she momentarily wished she had but wasn’t fated to.

Her training, her hard life moving from planet to planet, facing different obstacles every time, wiped aside all of those fantasies. Every time they attempted to resurface, her subconscious speared through them, reminding her of the fierce warrior she had become and the true fate that awaited her.

It’s not meant to be. Her subconscious told her, using the voice of her mother. She never showed weakness when she was with other Mandalorians. Weakness meant death or worse, exile. Whenever her mother saw glimpses of childhood affliction or sadness, she’d scold her and remind her of her duties.
I have gone through things that would have traumatized others.
“Trauma is for those that think they are not worthy of going on with their lives. If we all stopped midway, the galaxy would not have gone on this far.” Her mother had told her.
She is right. Brushing aside the last bit of hope, she steeled herself and went ahead to follow His Grace, the Duke of Richmond to his father’s throne room after he finished his playful banter with the crown prince.

~o~

Catherine watched her daughter from a window. Lina told her it was best to forget her and accept what she was. She cannot possibly understand. She has three handsome sons and a healthy grandson. What could she possibly know about the pain I’m feeling right now?

Nevertheless, Lina insisted. “Oviedo’s parents, before they converted, dealt with her kind. They will fight to the death to keep their honor. A death in combat is more beautiful than the promise of Allah, God, or Jehova of everlasting heaven.”

“Mandalorians are ordinary humans. Well trained, yes, but ordinary like you and me.”

Lina shook her head. “With due respect, Catalina, they are deadly assassins. Oviedo’s father would have been cut down to pieces if it were not because the Mandalorian captain he fought against suddenly grew a conscience.”

“Oviedo loves to spin wild tales. It should not surprise me, his tales keep getting wilder every time. His the recent company doesn't help.”

Lina’s husband was promoted to Captain of the Guards and given a title. Since then, he had kept close relations with many of Henry’s foreign appointed governors from formerly independent kingdoms. One of them was Eustace Chapuys, her nephew’s former imperial ambassador. The two were quite inseparable. Though they often clashed in religious matters, they remained good friends.

It was quite amusing. The Savoyard hardly had any friends. He had what he called ‘associates’. Nothing more. Oviedo on the other hand, with his vast experienced and knowledge of the two rivals faiths of the Western and mid-Western world, made for a desirable friend.

“I threw myself into despair after she died, Lina. She can play space Joan of Arc all she wants. I am going to get my daughter back, and I do not care if she hates me for the rest of my life. I’d rather have a daughter who hates me than one who remains buried.” Catherine said firmly.

Just as her royal mistress was stubborn, so was Lina. One way or another, she would make her friend understand that there was nothing to gain for pining for someone who no longer existed.

~o~

Henry greeted his daughter for a third time. “Please sit.”

“I rather stand.”

“Suit yourself.” Henry said, leaning back in his royal chair. He had made a quick salute to her as she entered. Mandalorians didn’t stand for flattery, but what remained of his lost daughter did. He knew these hints would lead her to the inevitable conclusion that he was aware of her past and that he didn’t care which would in turn force her to abandon this planet and carry on with her destiny.

“His Grace, the Duke of Buckingham, has sent me a direct message from Chancellor Mon Mothma. They are requesting that you leave this planet before others start making this request. Her exact words are 'others won’t be so understanding.'” Henry said.

Her birth father wore the same regal of France as when she first saw him. This time however, his attire was less flamboyant, giving the impression that he was settling for an austere look like the one adopted by his father, Henry VII.

“Earth is not yet under the jurisdiction of the New Republic. If they send anyone here at this very moment, it will be a joke. They won’t do anything without the approval of their bureaucrats unless that person is given full powers of representation and that won't happen unless the New Republic declares this sector under its jurisdiction.”

“Your mother has schooled you well in politics.” Henry noted.

“I pick things up as I go. The New Republic can’t make up their minds about how to run their new capital, how can anyone expect them to enforce the rule of law on a place their predecessors barely cared for?” Thena pointed out bluntly.

“Your race did not think so when they openly challenged Alderaan after they turned their backs on you? Tomorrow’s enemy is today’s ally. The New Republic is in need of many as it can find. They learned plenty from the mistake of their predecessors. With what’s left of the empire scattered in the outer rim and half of their other flotilla lost to them in the unknown regions, it’s unlikely that they will ever go back to being the menacing force they once were.”

“Never say never. Kingdoms come and go. Life gives many turns. Today’s weakling, can be tomorrow’s new super power.”

Henry grinned, proud to hear that his daughter had inherited his political acumen. “Do not be so certain, Madame. Your mother knew them when they were at their highest point. Without a leader to guide them, they are a joke. The New Republic has recognized Earth as a leading member in the Senate. Though small, we battled harder than the other planets in the forgotten edges of the galaxy. Since its creation, we have benefitted from their technology and trade.”

What a load of self-serving bantha podoo - Thena thought. Henry VIII did not want to hear the truth any more than any of his fellow terrestrial kings. He thinks that he actually matters. The New Republic barely has any time for Earth.
“The New Republic needs precious allies to build a power base against the potential threat of the remaining imperial factions and any future threat. It cares little about you and the other terrestrial kings.”

“That may be. I am not blind to men’s hearts. The New Republic thinks they can win us with flattery. We let them think that they can but have left it clear that our friendship doesn’t come cheap. We need them as much as they need us, so we play this game for both our sakes.” Henry said.

He went on to add: “It won’t be long now. Delegate Ming-Na Zhang from the Eastern Realms reported that they have three new Marshalls in mind to send before the year is over.”

“You do not have to worry about your reputation. I will be long gone by then.”

“I prefer you would not take this personally, Madame. It is not I who decides but the realms. I would prefer that you take all the time you need to finish your quest but time is the one delicacy that politics have denied us.” Henry informed her. “After you leave, for posterity, the Bishop of Rochester will keep records of your visit in Westminster School but your name will be stripped from the official record kept by Cromwell’s secretaries.”

“I do not need any explanations. My quest is all that matters.”

“And if you fail, what life awaits you in exile? My court will not have much to offer should you choose to make a left turn and start all over where your path began.”

Henry’s words brought to Thena the realization that he knew who she was. A sense of dread and disgust washed all over her. Henry’s cold laughter made things worse. She bluntly asked him why all the secrecy? “Do you think me so vain like everyone of your offspring that I would challenge them for the throne? Your crown means nothing to me. I came here on a mission, I do not care what happens to you or this planet.”

“Your wrath, your stamina, all of that you got from me, from our Yorkist ancestors. But you are terrible list, Mary. Not even when you were running around causing mischief, were you able to lie through your teeth as easily as your mother did.” Henry said. “I won’t dispute my vanity but I am not the monster you think me to be. It was not your voice and your subtle hints that alerted me to your identity. Answer me something. Did it ever occur to you why your mother waited this long, to send you here on this quest? Why she gave you specific instructions to come to me first before you faced your mother? Catherine found out who you were right away because you were her treasure, her life and a mother always knows but I? Fathers require more than subtle hints, even the most observant like myself.”

Thena’s left hand moved closer to where her blaster was. “With one blast I can end your entire realm and bring anarchy to it but I won’t because that is not part of my mission.”

“That, you got from me too. Your strong adherence to duty. Always, duty, duty because there is nothing worse than a royal has to follow in order to maintain a semblance of law and order. All that rage, that defiance, your bravado. It is all me. You can hide form it and deny it all you want, but deep down you and I are more alike than you will ever be willing to admit. On that front, you are like your mother. But even she had her limitations. She tried to play the role of a man when there was already a king in charge of this nation because she could not stomach that she would never be as her mother, a Queen Regnant. She tried, many times. She used me and others to rule behind my back, thinking that cheap compliments and pillow talk would be enough to manipulate me but as my old friend Thomas More once said, 'if the lion knows his own strength, no man can control him'.”

“And yet you remained married to her. Was it worth it? All the screams and insults so you could become the ruler of all Christian realms and build your empire of lies with the blood of innocents?”

“All empires are built on the back of others. Betrayal and secrecy are key components in the art of ruling. Those who don’t accept it, do not have what it takes. When I met your mother I was simply Harry, when I married her, I shed my skin to become the golden lion who’d restore England's greatness. Every word and action I took was for the good of the realm.”

“You’re lying through your teeth.” Thena declared, using one of his earlier statements against him. “Honor, self-sacrifice, commitment. Those are three things things that you love to convince others that you have but you don’t because that would mean being willing to die for something greater than yourself. I have dealt with men like you. None of them have ended well. Sooner or later you will pay for your sins.”

“That may be but I have lasted this long, haven't I?” Henry rose and walked to her. He had more secrets to reveal but none were more important than his next revelation. “I was about to negotiate with the empire to find out where you were when a night birdie visited me and told me not to.”

Thena took a step back. She knew at once whom he referred to.

“The Children of the Watch are not the only Mandalorian groups who dwell in secrecy and are known for their spy skills. Bo Katan Kryze whose House had once ruled Mandalore came in person and told me where you were. She said you were being raised by one of the most envied leaders of the Children of the Watch who had previously been a member of the feared Death Watch. When most of the Death Watch were exposed as crazed fanatics, they allied with the Sith Lords Maul and Savage Oppress. Together they took Mandalore, overthrew her sister and later murdered her.”

“My mother would never do something so dishonorable.”

“She clearly has been keeping secrets from you. Can’t blame her.” Henry VIII said delighting in revealing these dark secrets to his lost daughter. “Mandalore needed strong leadership. Bo Katan herself opposed her sister at one point, believing that Mandalorians should take pride in its martial history but alas!” Henry made a gesture that suggested mockery, “Blood turned out to be thicker than centuries of noble tradition. Then again, that is what Mandalorians are. What were those virtues you said earlier?” He held out his hand, pulling his finger for every one she said, “Self-sacrifice, commitment and what was the other one? Ah yes, honor.” Henry’s laughter became louder. “Mandalore is a society ruled by dishonor masqueraded as proud tradition. There is no simpler truth in the galaxy but this: power and the will to wield it. Your mother was a firm believer like Bo Katan that the only way to restore the good old days of Mandalore the Great was to make a deal with the devil. Two actually. It worked against her in the end, Duchess Satine lost her life and Mandalore was plunged into another civil war followed by yet another and another. That is your race’s proud history. Endless wars and infighting among yourselves. She knew I would have no qualms about telling you this so if you chose to remain by her side, you’d know what you’re getting into.”

Henry crossed his arms. “One day, she will be gone and it will be you who will take her place. The woman other Mandalorians of your group will look to for guidance and possibly, if Bo Katan manages to bring together all the clans and factions to reclaim the planet-“

“There is nothing of value that remains there except ruins.”

“What’s broken can be rebuilt. The clans who fought on the side of the rebels against the Empire know this. If they get their wish, you will be one of the heads of your Watch. Together with Bo Katan's team, the Night Owls, you will unite the other clans to restore Mandalore to its greatness. You will have to make hard decisions and you will understand that all those things you’ve read about in textbooks are nothing but lies everyone agreed to, to make history seem less horrible.”

“I will be nothing like you. I will uphold to the code so help me the powers-that-be or I will die by my own hand.”

“Every dreamer and passionate warrior says that until the time comes for them to face the truth, and suddenly all those ideals mean very little.” Henry said.

“Bo Katan is no friend of the Watch. Why would she resist your request of bringing me back?”

“I never made such request and even if I did, after what she told me, she would not have complied. Bo Katan showed me that you would be well cared for and protected among them. She spoke of ancient oracles that foretold several leaders who’ll help bring about the rebirth of Mandalore. She and your mother believe you are one of those leaders."

“Based on what? My royal blood?” Thena asked in mock.

“Partly but not entirely. A child born sprouted from the pomegranate from the blood of dragon, the cursed river maiden, and the golden lion … The oracle’s words exactly.”

Thena scoffed. “How can they place stock in a five hundred year old prophecy?”

“Not all prophecies are the work of charlatans. Your mother chose the pomegranate as her royal badge, my father claimed to be descended from King Arthur’s father, Uther Pendragon whose banner was a red dragon and through my mother, you have the blood of the river goddess, Melusina. So whether you accept it or not, fate has chosen you for a special task. And you proved it when you fearlessly defended yourself against that clone trooper. Your actions proved to your mother that the wheels of time had begun a new cycle.”

“Why me then? My mother had a child under way, you could have waited and I would have remained your pearl.”

“It does not work that way.” Henry stated.

“How so?” Mary queried. In that moment, she wasn’t Thena anymore. She was the scared but bold little girl who had looked at death straight in the face, unbending, unbound and unbroken.

Though Henry could not see her face, her tone of voice revealed her true feelings.

“There was nothing more I wanted than to make my dream come true of a glorious Camelot with your mother but it could not be as long as you were alive –or at least that is what I thought when I had a vision.” His daughter scoffed. “Don’t mock it. The Jedi knew all about wayward members of their order who had preferred a life of what they viewed as sin, married to less, pathetic creatures.” Henry explained, using the preferred terminology the Great Negotiator, General Obi Wan Kenobi, used when talking about primitive creatures. The once revered and admired Hero Without Fear had been his apprentice and like his master, a formidable Jedi Knight. But unlike his companions, Henry never trusted that Jedi Knight. There was a darkness hidden deep within his eyes that reminded him so much of his own when he dared to look at his reflection in his vanity.

“Melusina.”

“Yes. Unfortunately though, for them at least, Melusina also happened to be half celestial. One of the last of her species from the lost empire which dominated this galaxy before the creation of the Old Republic. Beings with supernatural powers that defied all kinds of understanding, who were also feared among their kind. Before long, many escaped persecution and went everywhere. Some to dead planets like Mortis, others here. Our ancestor was one of those. She promised not to fall in love with one of our own but she did, and afterwards she took her own life so she could become one with the Force like her ancestors.”

“You seem to know more than the average Woodville witch. Did she come to you in your sleep like she did with me when I was three years old, or is that new to you?”

“She whispered in my ear when I was just a babe so when I married your mother I would remember her warnings. I did not heed them until it was too late. I tried to get you back but the warnings she sent me were too strong to ignore. You became your mother’s axis mundi, Mary. If you came back, the child within her would die and I would have had a harder time fixing a broken Europe. That is why she also whispered in your dreams, so you'd be led straight into the Watch's arms and give your mother and our realm, a fighting chance. It was for the greater good.”

Before Mary could answer, Henry repeated, this time with a firmer tone: “If I had to do it all over again, I would. I do not take pleasure in revealing this to you. I know what it is like to test fate, have your shoulders pressed with that weight but night always gets darkest before dawn and what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. With the permission of your guardian, Bo Katan sent one of her fellow Night Owls to holo record your training and some of your early missions. You were always first to draw, last to leave a room.” As Henry said this, his eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I never felt prouder at being your father than I did whenever I saw you. You are a force to be reckoned and it is all thanks to fate.”

“There is no such thing as fate. It is just a scapegoat to make sense of all this bullshit your kind weaves against unwanted dogs like me.” Thena said, she turned to leave but her father’s next words made her turn.

“You can’t leave unless your mother accepts who you are now. You are a grown woman but until Catherine agrees to let go, you will still be tethered to this place. The New Republic is pressing me to rid this planet of unwanted hostiles. They do not want your kind here and I have to do what is right to keep my realm safe. The Turks in the Middle Eastern and Eastern Kingdoms have agreed on a habitual coexistence and perpetual peace to keep Earth strong against outside Force. If she is not convinced by the time they send their Marshalls, the Sultan and the Emperor will negotiate a deal behind my back and then divide the entire globe in half. Of course, it will not last long. Their peoples have been at each other’s throats longer than we have. The Earth will descend into anarchy, proving those uppity galactic bastards that we are a primitive race that deserves to be ruled by others. So you see, for the good of everyone, you must convince your mother to bury you. Otherwise, everything will go to hell.”

“Don’t you think I have tried? She hates you. I think she delights in making me mad to make you mad as well. As far as she is concerned, her life ended when I was taken by the Watch.”

“You have faced more stubborn foes than her. Make her see the truth, remind her what is at the stake. Behind that sentimental interior still lies her sense of duty. If you can get her to embrace that, you’ll get her to finally move on and look towards the future.”

Stafford’s reports from England troubled him more. Before these, Maggie Pole’s only surviving son, told him that there was little to worry about except a Mandalorian who came to visit as part of a ritual. Now this! He communicated via hologram and demanded why wasn’t he told of her identiy.

“Pardon me, Your Grace. It was at my mother’s insistence.” The holographic image of Reginald Pole said. Stafford was so mad that he had refused to sit down after he was told. He looked at his cousin’s son straight in the eye. “Furthermore, Her Majesty, the Queen did not wish to trouble you after all that you and the other delegates have had to deal with in the senate floor.”

“She should know better than to care about my problems. This is a matter of international diplomacy that could cost us our place in the New Republic.”

Edward Stafford rubbed his forehead. After his headache subsided, he locked his honey eye with Reginald Pole’s sky blue eyes. “Did she know who you were or was this part of her playing coy?” He asked.
The Duke of Buckingham never had pleasant encounters with Catherine’s eldest daughter’s adoptive race. They were a fanatical bunch that made the Calvinists and the Jesuits look moderate in comparison. The Children of the Watch were the more zealous of their bunch. Their women were known to play innocent, like his fellow delegate Ming-Na. But unlike Ming-Na, their coyness was harder to discern. The way they’d whispered, or change their tone of voice was done intentionally to alter human perception and make it easy to deceive.

“She did.”

“Were you aware of that?”

“Not at first but her last visit made it clear to me that she knew I was Reginald Pole from the start. Why she did not use it against me though, still baffles me.”

“Do not try to understand their kind. I tried and all it got me were more horrific scenes of gratuitous violence. Does the King plan to do something to stir the Queen in the right direction?”

“The Queen does what she does when she wants, Your Grace. You haven’t been away for far too long to forget this.” Reginald reminded him.

Stafford sighed. Yes, he knew that all too well. “I can’t return to Earth at the moment when an important resolution is about to be passed. It would break the illusion of unity among our three realms. If you can contact your stepfather, tell Sir Thomas More to tell the Queen’s best friend, Lina, that if the Lady Mary Tudor does not accomplish her quest, the other realms will do it for her.”

Reginald, called Dean Warwick since his day in the Rebel Alliance, nodded. He understood the underlying meaning of the Duke’s words. Sultan Suleiman would not hesitate to fix the problem while the self-styled Son of Heaven, the Emperor in the Eastern Realms, would be crueler in their handywork (which would come off as a dangerous and humiliating reminder to the Christian King that they’d not hesitate to correct what he could not).

“I will try, Your Grace but I can make no promises.” Reginald said.

Stafford cut the communication and finally allowed himself to fall back on his cushioned seat. God, what sort of drama had visited his realm? The man upstairs sure has a wicked sense of humor. And yet, the selfish side of him could not help but delight in this. If Catherine finally lets go of Mary, she can mourn her in peace and perhaps –he dared to hope- we can have another chance.
She is Henry’s wife. She made it clear to you, the two of you are nothing more but a fanciful dream –his subconscious told him. It was right, but just because he was older, did not mean Buckingham had stopped playing for keeps.
He descended from gamblers, daredevils, people who were not afraid to take bold steps to get what they wanted. And after decades, Buckingham’s wants remained the same. I have played the fool, the faithful servant, the willing lover and the politician.
No more.
He was going to pray for Catherine to embrace common sense so that at last, there’d be nothing standing in their way. He wasn’t dumb. The two of them were past the age of rekindling last long, but they could rekindle their friendship. Moreover, for him to just have a relationship with her (any relationship) would be enough. Every night before he went to sleep, he’d end the day as he started it: staring at his reflection. The image that greeted him was the same – a bitter greying haired man with no care or emotion in his eye.
If I can get this one prayer answered, I will know that my life was worth something.

Chapter Text

When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up."
~ "Of Other Worlds: Essays & Stories" by C. S. Lewis

“Mother,” Constance greeted the Queen, giving her a quick curtsy before she continued on her way. However Catherine stopped her before she reached her chambers. Age had not slowed her down.

The older she gets, like good wine, she gets finer. Thought Constance. Her delicate movements were contrasted by her harsh language. Indeed. Her mother was no stranger to abrasiveness. There was nothing she would not do, or was not willing to do, to get what she wanted. In return, the rest of the world ought to have expected nothing. The reward of a kind smile from a high-and-mighty queen ought to be enough.

“You’ve come to hear the minstrels? Anna has brought really good ones from her native Cleves. We did not expect you’d want to hear them. I will have an extra seat prepared for you with the rest of my ladies.” Constance said.
Catherine gave her that look that told her to forget the pleasantries. Constance nodded to her maids. When the doors were closed behind them, Constance asked her what was really going on.

“Your father wants me to forget that you have an older sibling. Do not give me that puzzling look, you know who I mean. Surely you noticed in the way she carries herself or in her speech.”

It was not a question and much less a challenge. If it was, Catherine would have expected her to fail because every time she challenged her daughter, it was because she knew she’d not pass her test and afterwards the Queen would offer a sarcastic remark, mocking her.
But this is not it. Constance had made some progress in her studies. Not enough but acceptable in the Queen’s mind not to bother explaining the simplest things to her.

“If that is what father wants, what do you want the rest of us to do? She is no longer part of this family.”

“She will always be a part of our family. She is too stubborn like me to accept that. You and your brother have to make her see that or else, your father gets away with it.”

“With what? Have you two have not had enough of these incessant quarrels? Christendom is at peace for the first time in centuries, united under one banner and Earth is better than it ever has been. Surely you can give God thanks for that.”

“At the cost of losing your sister? Never! When I married your father I fell pregnant many times and every time, it ended with misery until your sister came. You have heard the rumors about your father’s ancestors, the curse the Woodvilles placed upon the Tudor line.”

“I have heard. All urban myths and legends.”

“There is always a bit of truth in legends, my dear Constance. Your father would have left the two of us alone if it were not for that attack. It was then he realized that the loss of one daughter had brought him what he always wanted. The only way to break the curse was by giving up his eldest offspring and what I loved the most.” Catherine said bitterly. “An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. Even if God himself came here and told me that he could fulfill my destiny by calling your sister to heaven, I would not accept it.”

“It is good to know that the Queen of England is whole heartedly devoted to her eldest daughter.”

Catherine did not feel guilty by the tone of remorse in her daughter’s voice. She was well grown past sentimentality. “A Queen is above her feelings. One day you will marry some duke or bigshot in the core worlds and you will smile, rise above the fray and ignore the naysayers because if you don’t, you won’t inspire or be admired and you’ll be another useless wife.”

“My sister is sure missing living high on the hog’s life. Who could ever want living a life of freedom and adventure when I can marry some fat, bald, old unscrupulous politician for the sake of an alliance?”

Catherine slapped her daughter across the face.

Constance’s eyes glistened. For too long she had withheld tears and screams of anguish. Her father called her his pearl. Even when she was a little plumper than usual, she was his light. But her mother was a whole other matter. To her, she was a cheap version of what she’d lost. She loved seeing her miserable and fail at all of her endeavors because no matter how much Catherine might wish her to succeed, deep down her obstinacy always won. Constance’s failure confirmed that she was right and to Catherine nothing mattered more than to be proven right.

But before Constance gave her a piece of her mind, Catherine opened her mouth to speak. “I have never heard that nothing was impossible for me. I used to believe that it was my destiny to bring the light to England and create a golden age with the crown Prince of England and that is exactly what I did. Twice. Every time your father bed one of my maids, I complained and every time I got told the same thing ‘intelligent women do as they are told.’ So I did as my mother and her mother before her did, but I kept my honor and never let anyone of them take my place as Queen until his eyes wandered off to that black crow, Anne Boleyn. An ambassador’s daughter thought she outsmarted me. It never occurred to her that she was much a pawn of her father as I was of mine but after I made things easy for her and your father, I laughed thinking of how quickly he’d tire of her once he saw another uppity woman telling him what to do.”

Catherine chuckled. “If it weren’t for your sons, I would have enjoyed the show but Fate intervened. After all these years, praying, begging God for a sign, anything that could make sense of what happened and nothing came, I realized, I had wasted my life kneeling and waiting for an answer that’d never come.”

Constance’s knit eyebrows and creased brow showed her confusion. Momentarily her resentment was forgotten. Only momentarily. It was back when Catherine told her that the last child she gave birth to convinced her she’d never have the light of her world returned to her.

“I am truly sorry.” Constance said. And she was. But not for the reasons Catherine thought. “You had a daughter that was all yours that looked up to you and who reminded you of happier times but you can’t live in the past. You can indulge yourself if what would-have-beens and should-have-beens but if you stay in that dream state for far too long, you’ll lose yourself and become someone hideous. Life is for the living. Both of your daughters are alive and well. One of them is living all kinds of adventures, and the other one is here with you. Even if you don’t want to see me, I see you and I want your love as much as you want hers.”

Catherine did not bother to turn away. Constance was everything a King wanted in a daughter. And everything she had envisioned of Mary if she … I better not. Constance was already riled up. Her daughter had fighting spirit but she was too weakened by her insecurities to unleash it on the world.
Mary would not have refrained herself from doing so.
Stop it. She told herself. Mary is gone.
If so, her mind said. Why do you insist on keeping her here? Why not letting go?

Because she was her daughter. The only one of her babies when she still loved Henry who survived. She meant what she’d just told her youngest daughter. Not even if God offered her the heavens or his heavenly throne, would she have sacrificed Mary.
Mary was worth more than gold and heavenly glory.

So she did what she always did with friend and foe alike, looking at them straight in the face. Once again, her obstinacy won, reminding Constance that her love for her would always be put on second chair.

“You antagonize me, Constance. You and your brothers never let me finish my words, you see me as your mother, a Queen but not someone who needs to feel loved.”

“That is not true. We have always shown you love.”

“Have you really? Mary was stolen for me. I do not think that God ever cared for me. He and that she-demon Melusina wanted amusement and when they finally got it, they rewarded his best clown by giving him what he always wanted and what I asked for since I married him. Now it is my turn to turn the tables. You will never understand the bond that a mother has to her oldest daughter, I do not expect you to. One day you will have children of your own. You’ll hear how it is unseemly of mothers to have favorites but it is impossible not to. If Mary can be persuaded to abandon the ways of Mandalore, we will all be a happy family again.”

“You don’t have to treat me like I am stupid. You don’t want Mary to be welcomed back into the family. I-I mean you do but,” she paused, mentally cursing herself for stuttering. It was a show of weakness but that was the effect her mother had on her. “That’s a lie. There is something else that you want. What is it you are plotting, mother?”

“How old is your niece? Five, Eight maybe?”

“What does she have to do with your scheme?”

“Somewhere along the line men became the dominant species of this planet while else in the galaxy, our distant cousins conquered nearly everything, subjecting species to all sorts of cruelty. Even after the empire fell, humans are still seen as the apex of creation.”

“I do not follow.”

“They won every battle because they trusted their women as much as their men. We,” she chuckled, “how many queens have we had that haven’t been humiliated, killed, deposed or questioned? Matilda had twice the bravery and brains that her cousin Stephen had, yet the nobles preferred that permissible fool over her. Millions of lives wasted because of the whims of proud men who can’t fathom change. Martin Luther would not be where he is today without that wanton ex-nun of his. Yet he takes all the credit. Where in the bible does it say that it should be they who rule over us? David had many sons, trueborn and bastards but it was Solomon who inherited his throne after he cheated his older brother out of his inheritance but surely, he had sisters but none of them got nothing.”

“That is the law. It is how God wanted it.”

“No, it is how men of this land wanted it. God let them tear each other apart like wolves because such is man’s nature. Brute strength over diplomacy drove the kingdom of Israel straight to the ground and its people quickly fell from grace.”

“You mean blessed.”

“No, I mean cursed. If he blessed them with a female king, they would have taken the middle path instead of going for the all or nothing game.”

“Sometimes I do not understand you at all, mother and I do not think you even understand yourself. What is the point you are trying to make here?”

“I am getting to that. You have my gifts but what have you done with them? You’ve served your father faithfully, been a good daughter and I have no doubt when the time comes, you will be a dutiful wife as well but what good does do to a woman who is capable of much more? God never said it is a man who should wear the crown ahead of his older sisters. All of them became kings because they were born before their sisters. Henry thinks that river whore ancestors of his cursed his line by depriving him of a prince.”

“Not this again. If any of that were true, why are we here?”

“Your father sacrificed your sister to the sea of stars so he could be free of Melusina’s wrath. It worked but what he and that river whore do not realize is that it was never a curse but a blessing. I was pained by all the loss of our children but I comforted myself in the knowledge that they were in a better place. When I held Mary in my arms, your father did not want to hold her. He could barely look at me so I took out all my rage on your sister. I realized how wrong I was when she turned three and surprised me by saying the Lord’s prayer in Latin and then in Greek. She was always a jolly little girl.” She almost cried as she remembered how she played with Mary in the gardens of her household, their maids trailing behind her. “From that point on, I was committed to see Mary inherit her father’s crown but then I saw visions of what the future brought if I refused to give your father an annulment. Henry was going to get his way, one way or another so instead of putting obstacles in his way, I was going to give him exactly what he wanted but it was going to come at a huge cost. He was so desperate to marry Bessie Boleyn’s daughter that he agreed to all my terms. At last –I thought, I am free. But then fate happened and the rest you already know.” Catherine ran her fingers through Constance’s loose red hair.

“One word out of your mouth and your father will be persuaded to marry you to whoever you want and you will be sent away, or you can play hard to get and stay here as the spurned bride and help the future Queen of England who, when the time comes, will handsomely reward you.”

Now it all made sense. Constance’s eyes widened. How could her mother speak thus? How could she even plan such a scheme? The thought had to leave her troubled head. But it was a futile attempt. Catherine’s mind was made up. She was going to have what was denied to her for so long.
“We all have to make choices, hija.”

Constance flinched. Her mother rarely spoke in Spanish to her. Constance had to learn on her own and even then, the Queen refused to respond to her in her native tongue. Hearing her call her ‘daughter’ in Spanish brought the opposite feeling of warmth and acceptance thought she’d feel if she heard her mother speak to her in that manner.

“Your sister will make hers and continue to forge her own path. So must you. Your father won’t be around forever. When he’s gone and if you are still here in the role of people-pleasing Princess, your brother and his wife will cast you aside. You will be mocked and pitied. With any luck, they will find an old man for you to marry – if he will have you. Old men lust after teenage brides, not old maids in their twenties who are scared of their own shadow. Or maybe they will put in a convent where you’ll spend the rest of your days in prayer. If I am hard on you now, it is because I know how cruel the world is and I want you to prepare for it.” Catherine said, leaving out the part that she saw a lot of her younger self in Constance.

“What you are planning is treason. God will never forgive you.”

“God has already abandoned me. What’s one more sin to add to my long list of transgressions in His book? We make our own luck in this world. I am giving you a chance to break free of your chains. Take it or leave it. Ultimately it is your choice to make.” Catherine turned around and left.

Constance was a young woman with a trouble conscience who longed for her mother’s approval but also wanted to maintain her father’s, as well as keep everyone around her happy. Catherine knew the feeling. She dreamed of being a beloved queen and matriarch. All of those dreams, nothing but illusions that blinded me from the truth.
The long Constance kept that blindfold, the more disappointment she’d face in life. Let her call me cruel and think me insensitive. I do not care what this brood thinks of me anymore. I played by their rules and I got cheated out of the things – and people – I loved the most in this world.
First Mary and then Edward. She lost count of how many times she humiliated herself in front of Henry, down on her knees, like a street beggar, so he’d let her go and be with Edward. But Henry’s hatred and envy of the Duke of Buckingham was too great.
Eventually she learned to stop breathing. She merely existed. Catherine learned to play her old role better than before. The people cheered for her and she’d showed her gratitude by smiling and waving back at them. When it was time to give charity, Catherine would be the first one to announce the creation of a new school or hospital – and she’d always remind Henry’s subjects that it was all thanks to him. Yet they still cheered for her because in their view, no one else with a heart as big as hers could be responsible for these acts of kindness.
That is all she was. A womb, a decoration, a symbol and religious model of female virtue and obedience.

All of these things were now meaningless. The idea of Mary returning to them seemed too distant. Yet, she still tried because deep down, Catherine still clung to hope. If she failed, then she failed. But she would not abandon the other part of her scheme.

She had waited long enough to see Henry brought down by his arrogance. With the state of the galaxy, no one would care to check His Majesty’s ill condition (or his son’s).

I paid in full for lying to him about Arthur. And that payment is enough to cover the price of these future sins. Maybe God will forgive her but she would not. She will live the rest of her life, wrecked by guilt and shame but she’d manage it. What worried her more than God or herself was Edward. Will he approve? Should she come clean when it was all said and done?

No. He has seen the worst of the galaxy. Let him still cling to that image he had of me when we were young.

A Queen would always be in need of loyal knights, even those whose armour was rusty and they were not what they once were. Stafford believed her to be the light – like Lina once did. If he found the truth, he’d grow disenchanted and that was something Catherine could not afford to live with.

She passed several courtiers along the way. None of them surprised by her lack of ladies. All the attention was on the future Queen of England, the Princess of Wales, Anna of Cleves. From where they stood, power hungry courtiers and self-interested ladies battling each other to get the approval of the future King of England’s wife, Catherine of Aragon was on her way out.

Catherine ignored them. One of them however did catch her attention.

The Queen stopped, waiting for the Countess Dowager of Wiltshire and Ormonde to curtsy to her first. When she did, Catherine returned her gesture by talking about her only daughter.
“Lady Ormonde. Congratulations on your daughter’s betrothal. I am happy to hear that she is a fast learner.”

Anne Butler nee Boleyn thanked the Queen. “She takes after her mother, Your Majesty.”

Let us hope she does not. The ice between them had thawed throughout the years. After she watched how miserable Anne was with her distant cousin, Catherine’s ire subsided. So did her jealousy of Anne’s particular gifts.
“In different circumstances, you and I could have been great friends.” She had told her after the sudden death of her husband. Neither of the two lamented the death of a man who was the victim of his pride and careless disregard for those wiser than him.
Anne’s response to the Queen was not at all what Catherine expected. Anne Boleyn always loved to play the fool, the subtle courtier who was both charming and daring. But not that time. James Butler had sought to break her will and for all intents and purposes he had. But Anne was a creature of mystery and purpose. A wild bird who could only be caged for so long before she spread her wings and flew away.
Anne told the Queen how she cried tears of joy when she found the Emperor’s top dog had choked him to death. ‘Much obliged by need and loss to adopt a silent demeanor as it is proper of the female of the terrestrial species.’ – Was commonly whispered by imperials who delivered her husband’s body, and were witnesses to her teary eyed face during the funeral that took place a week later.
Catherine knew better. Under that guise, Anne took charge of her son, the new Earl’s patrimony, until he was of age. Now that her son was happily married with a family of his own, she had little to do but be involved in court politics, indulging herself in the latest gossip, and participating in daily activities of her English peeresses. In a time when Catherine had grown bored with the usual chatter, Anne’s sharp tongue provided a much needed distraction.
Yet even now, there were still some aspects about Anne that Catherine disliked and certain facts about her life that she could not reconcile with. If what she heard about Lizzie Butler was true, Catherine pitied her. This was not a world where sharp wit and tongues could be tolerated, much less in a flamboyant young lady.

“Then we have much to pray for. Master Barnes has always spoke highly of her and Lady Grey.”

“My daughter’s ears turn red. I tell her that jealousy does not become her. There will always be someone better and if she can do something about it, is work to be better and if you can’t, be thankful because ‘tis better you tried and tested your limits than live the rest of your life thinking ‘what-if’?”

“Good advice, I am afraid daughters are not obedient bound as sons. That comes with age, which means she still has a long way to go.”

“As we do all. Sometimes I cannot believe so much time has passed.” Anne said with a wistful tone. “With all of this I forgot to thank you for the high word His Grace Buckingham gave to my son.”

“That is all him, not me.”

Anne knew better. “The King continues to speak highly of his Christian realm. My son is happy to be part of history. George tells me he has never been acquainted with a lad eager to please like Robert.”

“Your daughter will have many stories to tell as well. How early does she and her betrothed leave for Hoth?”

“Two months. Her aunt and I tried to talk her out of it but she has a mind of her own.”

“Like her mother.” Catherine said.

“Yes, very much so. Well, look at the time. I will not be keeping you. It was good to talk to you again, Your Majesty. We have not have had this opportunity in a long time.”

“Let’s hope that we have more merry time for ourselves in times to go.” Catherine said. The two women bid themselves farewell and went on her way.

Catherine was very close to her destination. She had a good idea what she’d say to Henry. Before she’d stain her soul, she had to give Henry one last chance. If he failed to pass her test, then God forgive her.

~o~

Mary never thought of herself as such in a long time. Yesterday when she’d gone out hunting with her younger siblings, she surprised everyone by killing the largest deer they had seen in a long while.

She thanked them for their compliments, her tone momentarily becoming mellow and soft like when she was a child before she took the Mandalorian creed. What is this place doing to me? This is not who I am. Thena was taken in by the fiercest warriors the galaxy had ever known. Shown her kindness and gave her a home when they didn’t need to. Since then, piece by piece, the English Princess had disappeared until all that was left was her.

But was she truly gone or was she still hidden inside her, waiting to reclaim her mind and soul?

This is too much for anyone to handle.
It’d been better if her parents were dead and she had no family. That’d make her decision to leave or stay easier. But this is the path that was chosen for me.

Her mother had her reasons for sending her here. Thena had never questioned her. She was her star pupil, her only pupil.
“Never let your guard down. You open your heart to others, you leave yourself vulnerable. Vulnerability is something that wasn’t tolerated in the days of Mandalore the Great. It leads to an open mind which leads to doubt. Doubt leads to death.”
She steeled herself again. Taking off her helmet she looked at her reflection in the mirror in front of her bed. Blood red hair like her birth mother and father, strong cheekbones, thin rose lips and blue-grey eyes – all of which left it clear whose daughter she was.

But the galaxy was a big place. Even if someone saw her face, the chances of connecting those dots are minimal. Nevertheless, it was crucial that her face remain hidden.

“One day you can reveal your face to others beside myself.” Her mother loved testing her mind, speaking in riddles to see how fast she caught on. Thena hated it but she always accepted the challenge because she was eager to take up the mantle the master-armorer expected her to take.

And yet, since she came here, she found herself wanting more. Not just glory for herself and her people, but something more that made her existence worthwhile.

Maybe I am going mad.
When she was a teenager, Din, Morus, Sybilla and the other foundlings made bets how long she’d last in the training pits. It took less than fifteen minutes for them to realize they’d lose half their credits. Underneath her helmet, she smiled defiantly at them. Though they could not see her grin, her confident walk and unapologetic boasting let them know that she enjoyed disappointing them. That was then. Many things had changed since the Empire had turned Mandalore into a pile of glass. Most of them had turned to bounty hunting. Especially Din Djarin. He was one of the best. So was Sybilla. There were not exactly known for their anonymity. Something Morus hated. Mandalorian survival lay with their secrecy. The longer their ways and their identities remained a secret, the more they could bank on their success to restore the old days of Mandalore the Great.
It was for this reason that Thena worked in the shadows, gaining as many contacts as she could but never trusting any of them. Unlike her fellow brothers and sisters who turned to bounty-hunting, she didn’t require solely on bounty hunting to aid the Watch.
Working in the shadows suited her, it made her deadlier and efficient and it reminded her of who she was. But this place was doing was inviting all kinds of dangerous thoughts.

She crossed her legs on the carpeted floor and closed her eyes. As she began meditating, her mind went completely blank. Freely accessing every corner of her mind, she revisited old memories from when she was Princess Mary, the King’s pearl and the Queen’s miracle. Those were soon replaced by her time with the Watch, donning on her helmet and armor after swearing to live by the sacred creed. All of these memories became indistinguishable from one another. When she opened her eyes and rose to see her reflection once more, she already had the answer to her question.

Mary. Thena. Princess. Mandalorian. It made no difference. There was no separation between these two. She was both Mary and Thena. Mary was her past, Thena was her present. The only way to move forward was to accept the past, learn from it but also live in the past to carve a better future.

She smiled. This was all a test. I do not know if I passed it or not but I do know that the next decision I make will be mine and mine alone.

Thena smiled mischievously. It was the first time in a long time since she had. Everyone thought they could convince her or predict what her next move would be without ever accepting the possibility that she would step out of line and carve her own path. With all the doubts out of the way, fully accepting herself, she put on her armor and exited her chamber, heading straight to His Majesty’s throne room where (unbeknownst to her) the Queen currently was.

Chapter Text

"Men at some time are masters of their fates:
The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars,
But in ourselves, that we are underlings."
~ Cassius in Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare, Act 1, Scene 2.

"What do you want, Catherine?"

"Not Catalina anymore? You used to call me your cara bonita. Pretty. A beauty so exquisite that should not exist except in myth because it will put others to shame."

"You forgot how my song ends, with disappointment." Henry said, rising from his throne. "Have you come here to mock me?"

"You said that I was your muse and the two of us would bring Camelot. Now you've passed that baton to our son and his simple wife."

"That simple wife will birth the next King of England who, God willing, will not be crowned in many years to come."

"Accidents happen."

"Don't. Don't spew your poison. You are not going to jinx this dynasty's future." Henry said.

"I was your Guinevere and you my Lancelot but the more I think of those nights we spent together, the angrier I get. I picture his face instead of yours, his lips in yours stead."

"It will not work, sweetheart. I know all your tricks. John is three doors next to mine, go bother him." Henry said, pitying his youngest son if she did take his advice to heart.

"I could. It'd be so easy but I came to see you." She underlined that last word, locking her eyes on his full form. She looked like Henry in his younger years when he went out hunting. This role reversal didn't please Henry. Not willing to put up with her effrontery, he reminded her who wore the crown in this marriage.

Catherine was no longer intimidated. Her resolve steeled as the soft shell around her heart was replaced by hard exterior.

"I took you for a King when I met you. But my destiny lay with Arthur until it didn't. I was so good at interpreting His will that I thought my will was synonymous with His. That was one of my many sins that didn't go unacknowledged by the Force."

"I never took you for a believer in that vanishing religion." Henry said with a churlish tone that matched his sardonic smile. "Did my ancestress give you another Force vision?"

"I do not need her ghost to know that a reckoning is coming."

"God, you still have that flair of the dramatic. I should recall Chapuys. You and that Savoyard loved to play on the doom and gloom from the Jesuit Order."

"You should have paid more attention to what he had to say before you turned your back on him."

"He turned his back on Christ." Henry corrected her. The man was a zealot. But unlike the self-styled Evangelical Protestants, Ignatius of Loyola was a lunatic with dangerous revolutionary ideas that (if he'd not been captured) could have led to the destruction of their planet.
Catherine was displeased about his public humiliation. She brazenly told Admiral Piett that he was a man without honor. When Catherine wanted to hurt someone, she always resorted to her words. They were like poisoned arrows. Out of all the daughters of Eve, Catherine was the deadliest. Her words were like a plague, corrupting everything and everyone around her until they revealed their nature. Because nothing pleased her more than making people feel guilty, revealing that they were no better than her. In fact, they were worse. It was a confirmation of what she'd always maintained – that she was far better than everyone else by virtue of her lineage and religious devotion.
Only Henry knew the truth.
Ignatius was a saintly man. That much was true. But even Calvin could see that if he triumphed, Christendom's dominion over Europe and half of the Americas would end. Not only that, their neighbors in the East would never take them seriously again. The former soldier turned monk's ideal world was one that was advocated by Thomas More in his novel "Utopia". Ignatius praised Thomas, saying that his novel was a major influence when crafting the constitution for his new order and religious exercises. What Ignatius of Loyola and his acolytes failed to realize was that there was a reason why Thomas More chose to call his fictional dream world, where laws, government and social conditions were nothing short of ideal, "Utopia". The word was an amalgamation of two Greek words that joined together meant "no place."
Touched by the man's resolve, Thomas convinced Henry to send him in his place where the Empire's top dog, Vader, was holding the crazed monk.
Thomas' report were unsurprising. The holographic transmission of his last hours before Vader finally put him out of his misery had slightly changed Henry's opinion of him.
Crazed, fanatic, devoted and courageous, he died as he lived: fighting. But all of that mattered very little to his wife who would have preferred him to declare open war on the Empire by denouncing their actions.

"It is not just your precious Church I had to think of it when I made my decision, it is all of us. In case you have not noticed. The Son of Heaven, the Sultan and I, your most gracious husband, are in this together. For the first time since Emperor Constantine, Christianity is united. Heretics, zealots, Catholics, Evangelicals and the rest, have put aside their differences to welcome the future.
But you know from your sister's experience that it is far easier to destroy than to create. You should be relieved though. Thanks to his martyrdom, his Order remains strong. Were it not for his sacrifice, his missionaries would not have had their targets set on the farthest reaches of the galaxy."

"I have no one to thank but the man who made it all possible." Catherine said, knowing that was going to irk him.

Henry VIII had admired the hero without fear. Before he was Darth Vader, he was a celebrity down here on Earth. Everyone believed him to be the messiah. Few, like Catherine, saw him as something else. In the Middle East, where Islam was growing stronger, they called him the second Cid and the Blessed One while in the Far East, he was the One who was promised.
Sympathetic, empathetic, adventurous with a strong sense of moral justice, he had won everyone's heart. Catherine saw right through him.

"Anakin Skywalker has just returned from his latest mission."

"Where was he this time?" The former Queen asked Lina's husband. She and Oviedo barely saw eye to eye except when it came to Skywalker.

"Lothal, Your Grace."

"That dustball. That is hardly a good mark to place on his list of accomplishments." Catherine said, eying the Jedi Knight in question. Among the xenophobic terrestrials, he and his apprentice were an odd bunch.

Catherine's attention switched to Anne Boleyn. Sitting next to Henry in the high table brought Catherine a sense of relief.
Oviedo followed her gaze. "Let her worry about the trappings of Queenship." He said.

"I can stomach her all day if it wasn't because of her insane cackling." Catherine made a face that imitated Anne's which made Oviedo chuckle. "God almighty give us patience."

"Amen, Madame." Oviedo said.

Just then Anakin Skywalker and his apprentice approached. "Your Grace, give this to Her Highness, Princess Mary."

Anakin Skywalker handed her a necklace with a precious gemstone inside two golden rings with strange inscriptions on it.

Catherine congratulated the Jedi Knight and his apprentice on their mission.

"Ex-apprentice. I am working solo as of last year but my loyalty is still with the republic." Ahsoka told Catherine. "Anakin is the one who should get all the credit, if it were not for him, I would not be here to take him for granted."

"Do not be so humble Snips, you did quite a lot too." His attention returned to Catherine. "On behalf of the Jedi Council, my condolences for your nephew. The archduke Ferdinand was a brave man."

"He was." Catherine acknowledged. "Though pardon my forwardness but that is not all why you are here. It is no longer any of my business, but I wish to know since it concerns my daughter's welfare; is Earth under any threat of invasion from the CIS?"

"No but with the Confederacy getting desperate, there's reason to believe they will be sending agents to persuade Earth leaders to side with them."

"Henry will tell you he will never accept. Neither will the others. They all want more. With the CIS, they get hoodwinked. The Republic isn't to their liking but it is familiar and as they say, better with the devil you know."

"Earth will not have more to fear once this war is over. The Jedi and the Republic owe a great deal to your planet. Together they will do what is best for your people."

That was the last time she had spoken with that young man and seen her. When he came back to Earth, he was a different person. More machine than man, he did not bother to express any condolences for her lost daughter.
All the things for which he was praised, was what made it possible for him to become a monster. One of the few Jedi left who had temporarily sought refuge on Earth, told her that Vader hated Anakin and sought to eliminate everything and everyone that reminded him of his past life.
Catherine often wondered if Melusina had influenced Vader to attack Earth. Mary was no Jedi, she was much less a Republican target, but she was someone Ahsoka Tano had grown close to. And anyone Ahsoka liked had her former master's seal of approval. Mary let others see the playful side of Anakin Skywalker. He was like a big brother to her and for her daughter's sake, Henry and Catherine let Anakin and Ahsoka over indulge her, bringing her all kinds of gifts and entertain her with stories of their exploits.

It never occurred to Catherine that this was one of the few memories that had pushed Mary into making her decision of staying with the Mandalorians rather than returning to her birth family.

That was all in the past now. Vader was dead. The only two left alive hated him and were still workign to undermine all of his evil good. All was good in the universe. Well, there is only one thing left to be done.

"You may think that you have built a strong base but it is build out of clay. Everything that has a beginning, has an end."

"Perhaps I will not live to see the grand future but nothing is going to stop my descendants from taking off where I left and trust me Catherine, I have planned this far better than any other monarch, including that trickster cousin of yours. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree when it comes to your family. They thought they could get the best of me but fate has shown that it will always be on the side of my dynasty. A dynasty my dear you helped me a great deal in making stronger." Henry's eyes fell on her stomach. His hand was placed on her midsection. "You enchanted me with your beauty and your wits and though we had our ups and downs - more of the latter - your fertile womb has made up for that."

"I was more than just a womb." Catherine said, pushing Henry's hand away.

"You were but that was a long time ago. Your prayers were answered so you wouldn't have to act like a man. And thanks to my ministers' good sense, England's next Queen will never have to bear the burdens you did, nor play a role unsuitable for a King's wife."

Catherine glared. Now it had been Henry who had struck a chord. Henry chuckled at her angry face. Catherine opened her mouth to speak but then closed it. There is no use. She'd let Henry think he had won the argument. Enjoy this small victory while you can my Sir Loyal Heart. Before long, you will be begging me to be next to you as you prepare to meet your maker.

The doors then opened and in came their eldest daughter. "Am I interrupting something important?" She asked.

"None at all. Come. Let's dispense the formalities." Henry said after he dismissed the guards outside his chambers. "Have you reached a decision?"

"I have." Thena told them that she had reconciled her present with her past then turned to her mother. "I cannot return until I complete my quest. I need your permission to return."

Catherine suspected that she would reach that conclusion. It was a mature thing to do but it hurt. It would always hurt. She would NEVER bury her daughter. She could not. Yet Mary was right. There was nothing for her here. Catherine looked from her husband to her daughter. Instead of seeing the helmeted armored Mandalorian warrior, she saw a four year old smiling openly at her, showing off her new toys her Jedi friends brought from their many missions against the enemies of the Republic.

She is a Tudor through and through but also a Trastamara. Her mother betrayed everyone in her family to win the throne. Under the guise that it was what God wanted, she silenced the naysayers and bullied the church in submission. Her father was even worse, using subtlety to achieve his means. Fear and wonder were their tools and it was why they became legends.
Mary, or rather Thena, had inherited all of those traits. Coupled with the Tudor ambition and thirst for adventure, there was no question that she'd go very far in Mandalorian Society. But Catherine would not be there to see it.

Cursed be fate and its puppets.

It took all of her self-control and mental discipline for the old Queen to nod. "You have my blessing and I ... I will pray that you will blessed with good fortune and victory."

"It will be as Fate wills it." Thena said. "I will tell my people of your hospitality. For both our sakes, our paths will not cross unless it is necessary."

Henry nodded and bid her farewell as well.

For old time sake's, she began to pray. She had not done, genuinely at least. Every time she knelt, she pretended to be in deep prayer with her maker. Only Lina and Maria knew the truth. Now it was different. This was going to be the last time she spoke to God. Whatever else she had to say after this to atone for her sins would be said after, when she was at heaven's gate, judged by Saint Peter.

"I have not spoken to you since the birth of my youngest. I thought that it was your will that kept me tethered to this land but now I don't know and I do not wish to know anymore because it is irrelevant." Her accusatory words were followed by the Lord's prayer and a Hail Mary which were quickly followed by yet another condemnation. "I took the reins of my own destiny and in my womb, I dug my own grave. What I am about to do, I know that there is no turning back. May you forgive me and bring me to forgive myself."

Catherine doubted she ever would. More so if Edward Stafford found out about what she did. He would never bare to look her in the eye. His abandonment would make what was left of her life twice as hard to bear.

But this is what you have set yourself to do. You must see it done. You owe it to yourself.

Catherine closed her eyes and mentally finished the rest of her prayer then opened them, crossed herself and said "Amen".

The die was cast. Whatever the future brought, she'd be ready for it.

Anna was saddened by Thena's departure. She believed she had made a new friend – one she hoped she could rely on when, God willing in not many years from now, her husband inherited his father's throne.

Anna was taken aback by how cold her mother-in-law was when she gave her condolences. She had only the faintest idea of what it must feel for the older woman to finally bury her daughter. Anna expressed her hopes that they'd see her again. Catherine answered her with a cold shrug then walked away.

Edmund told her not to worry. "That is how my mother is." He said, sitting behind his desk, taking out his copy of Plato's Republic.

But Anna was not convinced. "Edmund, do you think that we will see her again? Her people are all over the galaxy. They could run into the missionaries."

Edmund shook his head vigorously. "There is no way in hell that they will ever be on our side. My sister's visit was a one-time thing."

"Do not be so sure. She enjoyed her time here. Do not ask me how I know this, I just do. Regardless of how loyal she is to her people, she will remain tethered to her family. Family is not something you can ever cut yourself from."

"Do not be so sure." Edmund said. His mother had acted so calm after Thena left. Furthermore, she looked too happy, more than usual. The only time she acted that pleasant was when she went to a pilgrimage, gave alms to the poor or greeted ambassadors.

"Times change." He added. It was more evident in his mother. His youngest brother did not trouble himself at all with the woes of women. One was not so different from the next. He broke as many hearts as he wished and took great pleasure in boasting of his conquests. Yet even he must have surely noticed that have noted that something was not right.
"Maybe she needs time to figure out what her next move. Although knowing her, she probably doesn't know what her next move is. Her plans just come along as she goes."

"Perhaps it should be you who finally takes the first step and show her compassion. She is going to need a lot of that – should she survive your father."

"It is too late for that. My mother lost her opportunity a long time ago." Edmund said with a tone of finality that marked the end of their conversation.

Anna however continued to worry. The following months passed by quickly. The three new Marshalls the New Republic had sent, one for each of the three kingdoms, were respectable men who were also mindful of the customs of the people they were protecting.

The one Christendom got was Nikotyl Mothma, the nephew of Chancellor Mon Mothma. Anna had never met his aunt in person but had a good idea what to expect of him after seeing so many clips of her in the Holo feed. Like his aunt, he was strict but not too cold to scare off curious onlookers who wished to hear straight from the horse's mouth about the wonders of outer space.

Anna found him pleasant. Although she'd prefer to invest her energies spending time with her mother-in-law, it felt nice to be with someone whom she did not have to make a big effort to win over.
Marshall Nikotyl straightforwardness was balanced by his finesse. The two could talk for hours like small children, exchanging stories about their native lands.
One day he asked her if she was nervous about the upcoming birth of her second offspring and if she'd be disappointed if it turned out to be another girl?

"I do not know what God will bring, Mr. Mothma. Girl or boy, Edmund and I will thank the good Lord all the same."

The Marshall passed his hand through his dark copper hair. "I will rejoice in your happiness as will my aunt."

"Thank you; I hope you also tell the Chancellor that Edmund and I will always be deeply indebted to the New Republic for all that they've done for us and we will respond in kind."

If she was any other woman, Nikotyl would have taken this as an offense or as another form of double speak and misinterpreted as a threat. Thankfully, Anna was a practical and simple woman like him, who was above those petty tactics.

In the high table, Catherine's eyes followed her daughter-in-law. She was entering her second trimester. "She should be in confinement." She told Henry.

"Aye, she should but she prefers the company of New Republic health officials and what is good for the goose, is good for the geese."

"She is carrying our grandson, Henry."

"How observant, Catherine. Maybe I should make you look after instead."

"This is no laughing matter. Christendom is strongest when it has a competent ruler to hold it together. Last time a King had only daughters to boast, two brothers rebelled against him with the last bastardizing his heirs to crown himself King."

"You are forgetting one little thing: I am still King. As long as I live, neither one of our three sons will turn against each other. Neither will their oldest brother."

Catherine chuckled. "That bastard is your ace under your sleeve? He is going to be the one who will fuel the fires of rebellion, if he hasn't started already. He is like his mother; he will cloak himself behind his words and win them over with promises of friendship and endless flattery."

"Now who is being sarcastic? Harry is my blood. He has never given me any reason to doubt his loyalty. He has been loyal to his brothers and sister; if there is any conflict, he will be the one who acts as mediator."

"Because he is so much like you. The peacemaker of Europe." Catherine said mockingly. "You pacified Europe alright."

"Now is not the time, sweetheart."

"When will it be? Are you going to deny how dangerous it is not to watch over the womb upon whom all of your hopes rest on?" Catherine countered.

"If you want her in confinement, you should tell her and keep her company there."

Henry hoped she'd accept the challenge. Her verbal jabs were harder to put up with.

Catherine pretended to be in deep thought. Then she said with a cold smile, "No, you are right. It is not my place. If Edmund agrees with her decision, I will respect it as well."

Thank God. Catherine's animosity towards the Princess of Wales turned out to be his saving grace from having to put up with another one of her endless chastisements. Catherine wore the crown and other royal regalia proudly. She considered it beneath her to play the role of nurse, even if it was to assist her eldest son's wife.
Henry trusted his son's judgment but that did not mean he agreed with it. While he acknowledged that Earth still had much to thank their outer neighbors for the role they played in bettering their medicine, it was unseemly for a future Queen and King to prefer an alien doctor over one of their own. Nevertheless, it was what Edmund wanted and it was a decision that Henry was going to let him make because for better – and also possibly for worse – his son had to start learning the trappings of ruling.

Henry's musings were cut short when he began to feel dizzy. Not again. This was the third time this month he had felt this tired. The sweat was the first thing that came to his mind as a possibility for his ailment but that was quickly discarded when he remembered that the disease had practically been eradicated.
Too much wine and too much of everything. That had to be it.
After this banquet was over, he'd excuse himself from meeting with his council and retire to his chambers where he'd rest for the remainder of the day. Tomorrow would be a new day, sure to be one where he will feel better.

Catherine wondered where all the time had gone. Her life had been like a dream. Was it all real or was it all a dream? Was she still asleep and if so, when would she wake up of this nightmare?

You know better than to delve in irrationalities. This is a nightmare of your own making.

How many times did she have a chance to escape or accept her nephew’s aid?

Foolish old woman. You let your heart rule you. You behaved just like the weak, frail woman your mother always thought you to be. If your father can see you now, he’d laugh in your face.

So true but – she countered – I am still here, am I not?

You can mock me as much as you want but not even you can overpower my will. Catherine was stronger than everyone, including her conscience. She was the daughter of the two greatest monarchs to ever walk the earth. As such, she’d endure and do what was right for Christendom – no matter how many lives she had to sacrifice. It was all for the greater good and in the end that was all that mattered.

~o~

Henry VIII’s condition worsened. He refused to see the New Republic’s doctors. If this was truly the end, he wanted to go down fighting.

On a hot summer day he summoned his sons and daughters. To each, he had a different message to give. Catherine did not bother to ask her spies what these were. A man’s parting words to his offspring should be his own.

Henry had more to say to his darling pearl who for a moment he confounded with his eldest daughter Mary. He passed his sweaty hand through her rounded face. “Dark times await the galaxy; don’t follow trends or anyone else. There will be many who will see you as weak because of your womanly condition. Do not listen to anyone’s council but you. Never submit yourself to anyone except for God. He will watch over you and He will guide you.”

“Yes, father. I am afraid.”

Henry managed to chuckle. “Whatever for? You are a Tudor. Through me, the wisdom and strength of remarkable men and women live in you. Did your great-grandmother, Margaret Beaufort, stopped and asked if this was okay or cowered in fear before Richard III and his hounds? Did your grandmother Isabella I of Castile?”

“Those were extraordinary circumstances.”

“Ever the lady, A fine response for any man, but I am not any man. I am your father. I know you better than anyone and though I have sheltered you from the horrors of existence, I am certain that you will adapt and overcome whatever obstacles are put in your way. And believe me, there will be many but milk and honey spirit of yours will kill more insects than the oil and vinegar from countless harridans you’ll encounter.”

“You always made these things sound so easy. You talk as if I am a warrior. I do not even have the build of one, let alone the courage. How can I ever hope to be as great as you, or mother or … my sister?”

At the mention of Mary, Henry’s eyes glistened. Tears fell from his eyes. “She is something else but so are you. Strength is strength, regardless of how it is manifested. Force yourself to think beyond your fears. If you can’t get rid of them, master them and make your weaknesses your strength.” Henry said, finally able to withhold more tears. “Trust your instincts, let the voice of God guide you.”

Henry began coughing. God, you cannot do this to me now. I have done so much for you. Can you not spare me a few minutes?

Everything Constance said was true. She did not have the build of a warrior. She was plumper than her aunt Margaret. With a weakness for sweets and other delicacies, she had inherited his appetite which was a testament that she had more in common with his Yorkist ancestors than his Tudor ones. Yet, there was also an affability to her nature which made many like her. And a natural beauty that coupled with that sympathetic nature, drew the attention of many potential husbands.

Henry was constantly harangued by his ministers to accept proposals from the other kingdoms. When it was clear he would not, they suggested some big shot in the New Republic. But once again, Henry denied their request.

From this light, Constance reminded him of his own mother. In her later years she had also grown plumper, but she had never lost her delicate touch which had turned her into a model of feminine virtue and religious devotion that many ladies (since her death) had tried (and failed) to emulate. One of them was his wife who had adopted a similar motto.
Henry mentally laughed. Catherine always knew how to steal what others thought of first and appropriate as her own or, in her own words, “make it better and proper”.

Catherine dismissed women who possessed silent strength like his mother. In her view, they were weak. But strength was strength. Constance had inherited that strength. It was for that sole reason why Henry did not want her to see it wasted on a galactic snob who’d likely never appreciate her.
For all the promises the New Republic boasted, they still saw them as backwater hicks who weren’t referred to as humans but merely terrestrials. Of course, everyone knew that was a gracious term compared to the others their human cousins used when terrestrial backs were turned.

“Pearls are the most valuable ornaments because they are formed under rough conditions. It will be dark at first but remember that it is always darkest before the dawn.” He closed his mouth. It was getting harder to talk. Assaulted by a wave of coughs, he motioned for his guards to take his crying daughter away.

Silence will be your weapon, genuine sadness your shield against the darkness - Henry wished to tell her but he figured she’d find that out soon. Constance was not hysterical when they took her away. She went willingly, giving one last tearful glance at her father.

Her dignity was that of Kings and Queens. Her serene face was a contrast to the visible sadness escaping from her eyes. The contrast was sharper when her mother entered. Catherine was visibly distraught. With a rosary in her hand, she loudly prayed for Henry’s soul.

“My Sir Loyal Heart.” She heavily emphasized after she finished her prayer, still knelt down next to him, clasping his hand, her green eyes locked against his dark grey ones.

“Your knight in shining armor. My fair Guinevere…” Henry managed to laugh amidst the coughing and the pain coming from his burning throat. “… A-are you not tired of putting up this mask?”

“Every day, Henry. You loved me once, you loved me still –is what I told you when you nearly threw me in the River Thames. I would have killed half the world to have your heart again. There is a part of me that still desires it but I cannot lose myself in wishful thinking.”

“Ah … Catalina, always duty bound … but still, you have a soft spot for me. Let’s face it, we had such good times … I was your Harry, you the Queen of my heart.” Henry said. He was under no illusions as to who she was anymore but in these last moments, he could not help but relive all the times they had spent together, lovingly planning to remake England in their image and build a Camelot to last for centuries. “My lady g-grandmother said that if I married you, I would be sending the Tudors to their early grave … She was not entirely wrong but she lacked the vision that we did.” He gave out a long sigh.

So little time and so much I want to say.

He coughed violently again. The physician told him not to speak but Henry ignored him. Clutching her hand tighter, he said, “Protect my father’s patrimony. O-our son …” (cough) “… is the only standing between order and chaos …” (cough) “… y-you must not let your anger and jealousy get in the way of that … Maintain what my father has built … what WE have built …”

Catherine blinked. Henry rarely used the royal WE when referring to the two of them. Everything was his doing, his greatness.

“… this is your legacy too Catalina … do NOT let it crumble in the dust … WE owe this much to each other … Promise me … No! Swear to me as God as your witness that you will honor these wishes.”

“I do.”

“Catalina …” (cough) “I mean it!”

“I said I do and I will.”

Henry sighed. He let go of her hand and began to close his eyes. A good rest would be good now. Everything started to fade, his wife and physician’s forms were started to become blurry. The room itself was disappearing. Before he gave his last breath, everything had turned to black.

At last, Good King Hal, the Christian titan, was gone.

Outside the bells began tolling in mourning for the death of King Henry and in celebration for their new monarch.

“The King is dead!” Cried the heralds, followed by: “Long Live the King!”

Chapter Text

Thanks to everyone who have supported this and every other fic of mine. However, I've come to the end of the line. I'll no longer be continuing this or any of my other works in progress. I've come to the end of my writing cycle. I don't have the spark. If I ever did, it's gone and I won't be writing anymore.

Yours truly,

AnnaCipactli12.