#bbc wolf hall

[wolfhallgifs]

HENRY VIII and THOMAS CROMWELL 📺 Wolf Hall (2015) — Episode four 'The Devil's Spit'

[the-fiction-witch]

Good Night

Media - Wolf Hall The Mirror And The Light Character - Rafe Sadler Couple - Rafe X Reader Reader - Y/n Sadler (Wife) Rating - 12 Word Count - 1424

The king lingered in the dimly lit chamber, every corner shrouded in deep shadows as he drifted further away from the duties of the court. His health continued to decline, a shadow of his former self, as Henry spent most of his days ensconced in heavy blankets, rarely roused from his slumber. The thick, dark curtains were drawn tightly, suffocating the light and creating an atmosphere heavy with the weight of his illness.

In the hearth, the fire crackled and roared, its vibrant, flickering flames the only source of warmth and comfort for the ailing monarch. The orange glow illuminated the air, creating brief dances of light that seemed to fight against the encroaching darkness of despair.

Yet amidst this bleak scene, Rafe remained steadfast by the king's side, his loyalty unwavering. He engaged in conversation, answering the king's queries with a soothing cadence, recounting stories from the outside world, and sharing snippets of courtly gossip. Each word was carefully chosen to draw the king from the depths of his malaise, to engage the flickering remnants of his spirit, even as the weight of illness hung heavy in the air.

"Ser Sadler," a messenger whispered as he came through the door,

Rafe turned away from the king, who made a noise in protest but quickly lost interest, Rafe turning his attention to the messenger. "Yes?"

"There is a -"

But the king interrupted, "Speak up, damnned man!"

"... Your... Your wife is here to see you, ser Sadler"

Rafe barely contained his smile at the mention of his sweet wife,

"Ah, right, of course, she is." Rafe nodded. Every evening, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow across the cobblestone pathways, Y/n would arrive ready to stroll home together. These moments felt like stolen treasures to him. On the nights when duty called and he had to send her away with a reluctant goodbye, he felt a profound ache in his heart, as though a piece of him was missing. "Thank you," he nodded to the messenger, who scurried away. "May I be excused?"

"...no," Henry said,

"No?" Rafe said, slightly caught off guard,

"Bring her here. Been too long since I saw that young rabbit of yours."

Rafe could feel his cheeks going slightly red at the king's teasing, he gave a small nod before replying, "Of course, your Majesty.” He bowed slightly before he headed out of the suite and found them waiting outside in the small hall for him.

Y/n stood in her usual green dress, so often wearing it when she came to court to match with Rafe's own flavoured doublet. Her bump was swollen and plump, ready to pop any day now. On her hip, their youngest son, Mark. Behind her dress, their son William, daughters Rose and Daisy stood playing with their adorable little dresses, and the two eldest boys Thomas and Henry running around playing,

Rafe had to swallow a laugh when he saw his hoard of children. He approached, quickly ruffling the hair of his sons before lifting up Mark into his arms.

The little toddler squealed and grabbed at Raffe's hair and clothes.

"How long have you been waiting?" Rafe asked as he stepped closer, his fingers gently touching Y/n's belly,

"Not too long." She smiled, stroking her bump too and petting young William’s hair as the boy was too shy to come out from behind her,

"How are you feeling?" He asked,

"I am well." She smiled, "Can you come home?"

Rafe gave a sigh, "Not yet, my sweet," he responded, moving his hand from the bump and resting it on Thomas's shoulder instead. "The king wants to see you all"

"Us? Why?" She asked,

"I'm guessing he just wants to see the children, he hasn't seen them in a while."

Y/n nodded and quickly organized the children, fixing their clothes and hair before she nodded and allowed Rafe to usher them towards the suite.

Rafe let one hand rest on the small of his lover's back, keeping them all together. William was once again hiding behind his mother, Mark was chewing on Rafe's fingers, the little girls were walking alongside Y/n, and the two eldest boys were making sure to stand tall and proper. As they approached the king, Rafe could see the king smiling already, enjoying the chaos

The king saw them, and for a brief moment, life returned to him. "My god... I swear the last time I saw you not pregnant Y/n, was your damned wedding!" Helaughed, "My, my you’ve been... Productive Sadler." The king laughed, a small twinge of jealousy in his tone, given his many failures to have a son and heir.

Rafe felt a little surge of pride at the king's words, he gave a small smirk. "Very productive, your Majesty. I am very lucky indeed," He said, his hand rubbing lightly on Y/n's back.

"Enlighten me, their names?" he asked.

Rafe nodded, looking to the children, who were all suddenly shy under the king's gaze. "This is our youngest, Mark," He said, nodding to the little boy in his arms, "And this is William. The girls are Rose and Daisy.” He smiled, patting each one’s head as he said their names, "And our eldest, Thomas, and Henry."

"AHh! A good names! A strong names!" The king laughed at how Rafe's second child was named after the king, mostly because... For the politics of court, he has to be. And of course, that did help bury the lead on their eldest being named after Thomas Cromwell, as politicly naming your child after an executed traitor… is not the best idea. "And the babe? A name yet, or shall you wait till the birth?"

"We're waiting till the birth to name them, your Majesty, though we have a few options in mind already."

"Midwife says it shall be a girl. Your grace." Y/n spoke up,

"Good, good, fantastic! More beautiful rabbits to add to the burrow. May I?" he asked, offering his arms to wake young mark,

Rafe glanced to Y/n, and she softly smiled and nodded, "Of course, your Majesty.” he gently handed Mark over and allowed Henry to give the young boy a cuddle.

“Marvelous… utterly Marvelous.” He smiled, “All of you, come.” He called,

Y/n gently ushered the children to the rug at the foot of the king’s chair,

That night, Henry radiated more vitality than he had in months, animatedly regaling the children with tales that painted whimsical worlds and jokes that elicited peals of laughter from the gathered group. Hours slipped by like fleeting moments, and as the time came for the children to leave, Y/n gently took the toddler and cradled Mark in her arms as he had long succumbed to the soft embrace of sleep, his head resting snugly against her shoulder.

William, a mere shadow of his usual shyness, offered the king a timid wave, his cheeks pink with bashfulness. The girls, bursting with affection, wrapped their arms around Henry in large, heartfelt hugs, their laughter intertwining with his gleeful chuckles. His eyes sparked with delight as he returned their embraces, cherishing the warmth these small gestures brought.

When his attention finally turned to Thomas and Henry, the atmosphere shifted to one of sincerity. He took his time, kneeling to meet their gazes, warmly bidding each boy goodbye. With a reassuring smile, he promised them that once they were older, their adventures would be welcomed at his grand court. Each boy received a firm handshake, a symbol of mutual respect, followed by a gentle pat on their tousled blonde heads, a gesture that seemed to bestow a bit of royal bravery upon them.

As the children were ushered out, their laughter faded into the halls, Henry turned to Y/n. He lifted her hand to his lips, planting a soft kiss on her palm, his gaze filled with warmth and hope as he wished her luck for the babe yet to come, an unspoken promise of his support.

Finally, after so many days of sitting in contemplation, he mustered the strength to rise from his chair. He approached Rafe, extending his arms for a farewell embrace, “Take care of them, treasure them,” he told him as he took his chair once more,

“I will, your Majesty.” He nodded, “... They are worth more to me than all else in this world.” he smiled, looking to the door where his family awaited him,

“Go on now, you shouldn’t be parted from them any longer.”

“Good night, your majesty.” Rafe bowed before heading out, he took Y/n by the hand and Mark in his arms, ready to head back home for the night. 

[forest-enchantress]

Here is a #90 gifs of Tom Holland in Wolf Hall. All of these gifs were made by me from scratch, so do not redistribute or claim them as your own. If using, please give this a like and reblog!

[jurijurijurious]

I had an intrusive thought whilst thinking about Wolf Hall and it was "what if someone gave the Duke of Norfolk the Cromwell treatment? Wrote a novel from his pov? Would anyone want to spend time in his head? Would we actually start to like that man who's been called one of the most unpleasant of the 16th century?"

Anyway...

I sincerely miss the late Bernard Hill in The Mirror and the Light and his wonderful performance as Norfolk. Timothy Spall is a good actor but his Norfolk does not have the massive presence of Hill, or the ferocity. I laugh every time I think of Hill when he says "by the thrice beshitten shroud of Lazarus". 🤣🤣 And the look of respect on Cromwell's face which follows. Now that's television. What a line. A little fun amidst the terror and horror.

[green-like-the-sky]

call me RIZZley amirite ladies

[elizabethan-memes]

[buffthrawn]

Good Christian people, I am come hither to die, for according to the law, and by the law I am judged to die, and therefore I will speak nothing against it. I am come hither to accuse no man, nor to speak anything of that, whereof I am accused and condemned to die, but I pray God save the king and send him long to reign over you, for a gentler nor a more merciful prince was there never: and to me he was ever a good, a gentle and sovereign lord. And if any person will meddle of my cause, I require them to judge the best. And thus I take my leave of the world and of you all, and I heartily desire you all to pray for me. O Lord have mercy on me, to God I commend my soul

[the-fiction-witch]

Christmas Visits

Showing - Wolf Hall Mirror And the Light Staring - Rafe Sadler X Reader +Gregory Cromwell X Elizabeth Rating - 12 Reading Time - 826

Snow piled high on the rolling hills and tranquil valleys of the English countryside, transforming the landscape into a shimmering winter wonderland. The grey clouds hung low and thick across the vast, overcast sky, hinting at more flurries to come. Beneath the heavy blanket of snow, a brook babbled cheerfully under a gracefully arched, snow-covered bridge, its gentle sounds mingling with the crisp air as the carriage rolled over the uneven cobblestones leading to the grand entrance of the Cromwell estate.

As the carriage approached, its wheels crunching against the stones, the vast courtyard of the Cromwell house came into view, framed by elegant stone walls and tall, ivy-covered hedges. There to greet them was the wide, beaming figure of Gregory Cromwell. Beside him stood his wife, Elizabeth Seymour, her bright eyes sparkling. Their two children, a boy with tousled brown hair and a little girl dressed in a rosy winter coat, stood eagerly on the snow-dusted gravel, each clutching one of their parents’ hands.

The moment the carriage came to a stop, the atmosphere exploded with excitement. A sudden rush of five chaotic children spilt out of the carriage, laughter echoing in the cold air as they tumbled onto the ground. With joyful squeals, they launched themselves toward Gregory and Elizabeth’s children, enveloping them in bursts of exuberant hugs and shouts of delight, their breath visible in the frosty air as they celebrated their reunion amid the enchanting backdrop of a snow-covered paradise.

“Alright, alright, calm yourselves.” Rafe Sadler chuckled warmly as he stepped down from the ornate carriage, attempting to wrangle the lively brood of children as he gestured for them to line up properly. He extended a hand to his wife, Y/n, assisting her carefully down from the carriage steps. With her baby bump swelling noticeably, it was clear that each movement required a bit more effort. In her arms, their youngest child, a cherubic little boy with tousled blonde curls, nestled close.

“Rafe, good to see you.” Gregory smiled as he threw his arms around him,

“It has been too long,” Rafe smiled, “Elizabeth, as beautiful as ever.” He greeted her, kissing her hand,

“A Pleasure as always,” she smiled back,

“Y/n! My goodness, you are so big… again,” Gregory smiled,

“I know,” Y/n laughed softly, “Midwife says it’s another set of twins.”

“Oh my-” Elizabeth gasped,

“Busy as usual,” Gregory laughed,

“You know I like to keep myself busy,” Rafe smirked a little, “How have you been, Gregory?”

“Well, as we can be.” He nodded, “Yourselves?”

“Being careful, of course,” Rafe chuckled, putting his arm around Y/n.

“Come along then, everyone, we have roast goose and a warm fire.” Gregory enthusiastically smiled,

The children all cheered and ran inside the house excitedly.

As the snow flurries thickened, the sky deepened into a charcoal grey. Shadows danced across the wooden walls, flickering from the fire that crackled energetically in the stone hearth, sending warmth surging through the air. The inviting scent of chestnuts roasting mingled with the aroma of savoury meats arranged on the table, where remnants of the feast lay.

Gregory and Rafe’s children sprawled contentedly on the plush, woven rug by the fire, their bellies round and satisfied after a long day filled with laughter and adventure. Little faces were softened in sleep, some clutching cherished wooden toys and others nestled into cosy blankets. In a nearby chair, Elizabeth had dozed off, her delicate fingers still holding her embroidery hoop, colourful threads draped lazily across her lap.

Y/n, likewise lulled into slumber, rested her head gently against Rafe's shoulder, her hands cradling her bump protectively.

Across the room, Gregory lifted a bottle of rich, spiced mulled wine. Rafe nodded appreciatively, and Gregory poured two generous glasses, the deep crimson liquid shimmering in the firelight.

With care, Rafe shifted, placing a soft pillow under Y/n’s head, before scooping up their youngest child to rest on his hip, feeling the small body relax against him and staving off the impending whines and gentle tears he sensed were brewing. The two men clinked their glasses together, sharing a moment of camaraderie as the warmth of the wine seeped into their bones, drawing them deeper into the comforting embrace of winter’s twilight.

“Another year.” Gregory sighed,

“Hardly seems real…” Rafe nodded,

“I suppose it becomes easy for you; you can just count your children.” Gregory joked,

Rafe laughed, “I suppose so,”

“…times like this, I miss him,”

“I know, I do too.”

“He’d have made such a fuss of them,”

“They’d have been spoilt beyond measure.”

“We all would be; the feasts would take a whole village.”

“If not more.”

“He’d be proud of you… I know that,”

Rafe smiled and set a hand on Gregory’s shoulder, “Second only to how proud he’d be of you.”

“…I feel he’s around this time of year, something about the candle flicker on a midwinter night.”

“I do too, at least we’ll always have the memories of him, of those days… and of these days together,”

Gregory nodded, and the two shared a small, silent toast of their wine.