This lovely crown, accented with glass stones and pearls and surrounded by a circlet of fleur–de–lis–like design, was worn in 2007 by Claire Danes as Yvaine in 𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒅𝒖𝒔𝒕.
In 2008, it was worn in the second season of 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑻𝒖𝒅𝒐𝒓𝒔 by Natalie Dormer as Anne Boleyn.
Finally, it was worn by Claire Foy as Anne Boleyn in the BBC’s 2015 production of 𝑾𝒐𝒍𝒇 𝑯𝒂𝒍𝒍. This piece has been used several more times over the years. To see some of the additional uses, visit Bit.ly/Acces011
Why are we so attached to the severities of the past? Why are we so proud of having endured our fathers and our mothers, the fireless days and the meatless days, the cold winters and the sharp tongues? It's not as if we had a choice.
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.
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!
Quick pic when I watched Ep2. Japanese note says "I'm watching BBC drama Wolf Hall. Mark Rylance acts Thomas Cromwell, who is an important politician in Tudor period. And episode 2 was about that dad and cute animals"
I've found this strange tendency on tumblr to make it seem like Mary I is somehow wrong or bratty in how she acts towards her sister and Anne while her entire life is being stripped from her.
And to be fair, until Mary takes the throne, her relationship with Elizabeth is actually very decent.
Or like there's this implication that Anne should be absolved from her place in Mary's abuse, and somehow she's not a terrible person for her role in it.
Like historians seeing Anne as a bad person in relation to Mary is actually indeed accurate. Anne making threats about Mary's death, her general attitude towards her, and her attempts to reconcile with Mary at the expense of Mary losing everything she had been born into is a very accurate reason to call someone a terrible person lol.
it's not rocket science.
Like, "Woman who marries man and treats his daughter like crap because she refuses to acknowledge woman's position because doing so strips daughter of all rights." is not going to be seen as a saint, and in relation to mary, she shouldn't be lol.
He looks around at his guests. All are prepared. A Latin grace; English would be his choice, but he will suit his company. Who cross themselves ostentatiously, in papist style. Who look at him, expectant. He shouts for the waiters. The doors burst open. Sweating men heave the platters to the table. It seems the meat is fresh, in fact not slaughtered yet. It is just a minor breach of etiquette. The company must sit and salivate. The Boleyns are laid at his hand to be carved.