Author's note: This story came out of the blue as I reached the end of season 1 and was inspired by "I Sing of Arms and of a Queen" by thesapphireknight. It was supposed to be a femslash/Cathry crackfic. Well, that's not quite what it's turned out to be. I hope you'll enjoy it anyway. Setting: This story follows some of what happened in s1 and yet doesn't seem to fit anywhere in particular. Some time after the Queen of the Bean incident (that's what I prefer calling it). Warning: Femslash elements. Somehow I felt "challenged" by another author who noticed there are not a lot of those stories on here that involve Catherine. So this is my shy attempt at combining the Cathry storyline of s1 with the astonishing lack of CdM femslash. Oh, and Reign's still not mine.
Your Mess is Mine
The Queen of France woke to the feeling of her mattress moving slightly, the weight of a body dropping down next to her, ever so slowly. She felt his heat as he crawled underneath her blanket to seek her comfort. She knew the topography of his chest as he drew her back against it, the shape of his manly form as he tried to arouse her with an impatient caress. "Henry," the Queen asked her King without opening her eyes. "What are you doing here?"
"I've missed you," he whispered, his mouth trailing down her neck while his hands came to rest on his favorite spot on her belly.
"That's nice of you," she answered, unwilling to give in to his inflaming treatment. "What happened that you remembered I exist? Are your playthings busy?"
"I'm not looking for someone to play with," Henry pressed her rear against his groin responding to the softness of her curves. "I want my wife."
Opening her eyes, Catherine turned around in his embrace and put her hand against his chest before he could claim her mouth, holding him at bay. "What for," she asked more tenderly than intended. "What's going on?"
"Can a husband not seek his wife's affection," he sounded playfully hurt but saw hesitation in her eyes, discomfort even, so he stopped teasing her for a moment.
"I'm not a commodity, Henry," his Queen replied coldly, her face unable to mask the pain his lust was causing her. "You cannot just come here and enter my bed, expecting me to perform my wifely duties after months of neglect."
"I saw your eyes seeking mine at the banquet tonight," the King tried to seduce her again, now with a smile.
"I always do," Catherine barely whispered, averting his gaze.
"Then tell me," Henry caressed her cheek, then lifted up her chin with a tender nudge, forcing her to look at him. "Why would you do that if you don't want me?"
"Because I know you aren't well, Henry," the Queen answered honestly.
"Don't you feel how well I am," the King teased her with his growing passion, his eyes glistening with madness and an appetite for getting rough with her for play. Tearing at her nightgown, he ignored her reluctance and pulled her back towards him as she tried to crawl away.
"Stop humping me like a dog," Catherine demanded, trying her best to hold him at an arm's length, his actions hurting her more than his usual insults. "I'm not your chance encounter because you've terrorized your playthings into hiding. I'm not Diane either, so let go of me!"
Angry at her for mentioning his mistress now that he was hungry for his wife, the King jerked away in an abrupt move to unleash the rage that was bubbling up inside him. It was the kind of rage only she could start, only she with her jealousy and stony facade. "Must you mention her here, in your bed?"
Glaring at him as he sat in front of her, his eyes full of resentment, Catherine couldn't help but release a bitter laugh. "Must I mention her, the woman you have forced me to live with? The woman you couldn't be without in our marriage?" Her eyes were dark now, matching his in her contempt. "She's always here, Henry, because every night you didn't lie with me you were with her or someone else who's been willing to indulge your preferences!"
"You are my preference now," Henry hissed, his eyes full of dark emotion.
"We both know there is just one mistress you are courting now," Catherine tried to keep her voice as steady as possible, her fear of him overcome only by her love. "And that's England."
"There will come a day when you, too, will see how grand my plan is to conquer England," the King's pair of brown sparkled as he raved. "Catherine, don't you see?"
"Henry, darling, all I see is you getting absorbed by your obsession for something only Mary can give you," the Queen was careful as she tried to reason with him, her hand held out to find his in a soothing caress. "But we both know she's reluctant at that."
"Then we'll have to give her an incentive," Henry grinned, then grabbed her hand to pull her towards him for a hungry kiss.
"You're not making sense," Catherine struggled, unable to keep her husband from overwhelming her.
"I'll explain it to you all, my Queen," he whispered against her skin as his mouth scraped her neck with his beard, his hands all over her in his impatience. "It's all so clear to me now."
"Please stop," the wife tried to appeal to her husband with a tear in her eye.
"You taste so good," Henry nibbled her ears. "And your hair, hmmm… So many women and only yours smells so good."
Stiffening below him at the sound of his words, the Queen finally caught her king's attention, his eyes seeking hers in her discomfort. Unable to swallow the pain he had caused her over the years, she lay in his embrace, her mind screaming for release while her body craved more of him, his hands, his skin. As he looked deeply into her dimmed pair of hazel, something in his eyes made it bubble all up, his silence like an invitation for her to open her heart. "I can't take this anymore. I'm too tired of pretending, Henry, too tired of pretending that your infidelity isn't hurting me, the humiliation of being cast aside for a parade of lovers. Especially now that you've come here to sate your appetite as if I was one of them. And don't tell me it's intimacy you came looking for in my bed, we both know that's a lie. It doesn't matter how good it feels to feel your touch. You came here to have your way with me and then be off again to find a way to add England to your realm. But that's not enough."
"I am your husband," Henry growled, his face red from anger while his eyes were shimmering with angry tears. "Your king!"
Catherine nodded, her voice breaking as she went on, "That doesn't give you the right to treat me like a whore." Fighting hard to steady herself, she pulled back her shoulders, sat up straight, converting herself from Catherine to the Queen of France, a queen who couldn't hide the love for her husband despite her fury and pain. "Do you know how it feels to see you kiss these other women? How it feels to see your hands caressing someone else?" A stubborn tear was rolling down her face as she poured her heart out, well aware that she would quite possibly come to regret every word. "Do you know the pain of lying awake at night because all you crave is your husband's presence while he enjoys being tied up by his latest conquest, a servant he's given your crown and named his queen above all else?"
"I am here now and you reject me," Henry shouted, unwilling to accept what she was saying, unwilling to discuss the incident that was Penelope. So he grabbed her wrist and bore his eyes deeply into hers, making her shiver.
"You're out of your mind," Catherine shouted back. "And yet I love you, Henry. But you've hurt me too much to indulge you now, to help you heal this way, the only way you know to ease your pain." She tried to soothe him, then forced herself to calm down, her eyes filled with fright and love. "If you want to ravish me, that's your prerogative as my husband but don't expect me to be grateful for seeking my company because no one else is left to entertain you." Watching his anger turn into a pain of his own, the Queen added softly, "I would respond to the first kiss you'd place on my lips, I'm so starved for an honest caress from you but please don't ask me to endure your hunger for a quick release. Not with you not being yourself, not so shortly after you've been with someone else, not on the dawn of my birthday."
"What can I do," the King suddenly asked his wife, startling her with a sign of interest he showed to mask the fact that he had almost forgotten her day of honor.
"Let me find a cure for your headaches, darling," Catherine whispered, embarrassed for opening her heart to him the way she had. "Then help me relax into your touch, make me feel alive again by your side."
Squinting his eyes, Henry studied her face and brushed his fingers over her cheeks to soothe the sadness he saw shining in her pair of hazel. "I'll see what I can do," he answered truthfully, then swung his legs out of bed to rush away, leaving her aching for his presence while sighing in relief that he had left her unharmed in his madness.
When the Queen of France woke again, she opened her eyes to one of her ladies she had only recently asked to seek her husband's presence. Henry had wooed her like so many other members of her Flying Squad over the years, but she had disappeared after what Catherine was sure had been a sexual encounter that had left him dissatisfied. It was a rare thing to see her husband not getting his way, especially now in his state of permanent rage, so she she was relieved to see her lady's face again. The Queen also remembered the talk the two of them had had before she had sent her into the lion's den. Her lady had been reluctant, a likely candidate even for retirement, somethings Catherine would not have minded after years of loyalty and dedication. She was known to take good care of ladies who had proven to be her friends, but the King had made her disappear before she had been able to withdraw her request. Why he would bring her back now, she wasn't sure.
"Good morning, my Queen," the King greeted his wife from behind the woman he had seated on her bed like a doll. "I brought you a gift to honor the birthday I know you've been dreading." Her lady smiled uneasily. "Your fourth decade completed and you look more lovely than ever," he raved. "But I digress. I have been told that I have neglected my wife's needs as of late and that it is her wish to feel loved again. Since my attempts to please her have been rejected, I bring you the one person I know desires you beyond my own expectations. She told me so herself when I tried to ravish her and she gasped your name."
His eyes darkened at the memory but he continued, "For some a Queen is more desirable than a King I suppose. If that is so, she shall have her way and please you the way I couldn't."
Registering the shock washing over his wife's face, he added gently, "If this is what it takes to enter your bed again, I'll bring her to you every day. I'm sure you understand that I cannot provide you with one of my guards or advisers of whom many desire you in secret. I couldn't bare with the knowledge of another man touching you for pleasure. But she will do. And she'll be gentle with you, I'm sure."
Henry squeezed her lady's shoulders as if to reassure her to go ahead and seduce his wife while he was still standing there in her chambers. "You understand I have to stay until she's lying with you, Catherine," he said quietly, then nudged her lady forward to kiss his speechless Queen. "I told her she had to please you or she'll lose her head. Just a little incentive because I thought she may be shy for harboring forbidden feelings for you so long. Not that I would judge anything that brings you joy, my Queen. I've always found the sinner in you rather alluring."
"You cannot be serious," Catherine tried to rediscover her voice but was met with a sincere look on his face.
"You wanted to be brought back to live without my rough," her King was relentless in his argument. "Her hands are soft, I'm sure she can do just that."
Unable to move, Catherine looked into her husband's eyes darkened by lust and determination, then met her lady's pair of blueish green. Her fear was evident but her smile suggested there was something else, an uneasiness of some kind matching hers. They were both afraid of what the King would do if they protested his plans, after all, his behavior had been rather erratic in court as of late. When he threatened to take someone's head, he was quick to execute his judgment. And so far, only Catherine had managed to survive.
"I'm sorry, your Grace," her lady whispered as she leaned in to kiss her Queen.
"It's my husband who's forcing you to do this, Luisa, so it's not you who should make excuses."
"He may be forcing you," her lady answered lovingly. "But I couldn't be more honored to be here with you."
"It's a clever trick to tell him you'd rather be with me than him," the Queen gulped at what she believed to detect now in her lady's eyes. "A little risque maybe, but who would've thought he'd..." She was interrupted by a shy first buss and a smile against her lips.
"Don't worry, your Majesty," Luisa whispered softly. "I couldn't be happier being of service to you, bringing you joy instead of him."
Unable to grasp what was happening, why a woman would fancy her more than a king, the Queen of France swallowed hard as the woman she had known for years probed her lips for a tender dance. Reluctant at first, Catherine closed her eyes to the unfamiliar feeling of lips teasing hers so softly. When Henry claimed them, his tongue was often quick to invade her mouth, his kiss strong and demanding, his stubble scratching her skin, his hands fast at undressing her, his arousal often pressing against her before she was ready. Luisa's prudence was something else. Tender lips nuzzling her mouth, her tongue taking its time to tease hers. Catherine gasped. Rarely had a kiss left her so lightheaded and curious for more. Although not yet aroused, she wanted to taste more of those lips and welcomed her lady's initiative to lie down next to her to increase the pressure to her lips. As her body touched hers, Catherine sighed, the feeling of a bosom pressing against hers through her nightgown strangely alluring. Her skin starved for affection, she welcomed female hands exploring her body, a mouth suckling her neck.
"You are so beautiful," a soft voice vibrated against Catherine's skin as Luisa's fingers brushed over every curve, every edge her body had to offer. Entranced by the tenderness of her lady's treatment, Catherine barely noticed when her nightgown was slightly lifted up, leaving her vulnerable to the hands of a woman who praised her beauty with every touch, every kiss, revering her like no one had before.
Standing beside her bed, Henry watched his wife falling for a woman before his eyes. He had expected to enjoy seeing her squirm, had braced himself for his arousal, the effect of watching two women making love, but like so often, his fantasies had been more alluring than the fact behind his plans. Seeing his Queen now, her face a mask of confusion merged with ecstasy, her eyes closed, her lips wearing a contented smile, he felt lost and angry at himself. Her cheeks blushed, her moans deeper now, he had to avert his eyes, jealousy eating him up from deep inside. How did that woman dare to make his Queen blush with life while he was standing there on the sidelines?
Unaware of her husband's discomfort, his agony over his own misjudgment, Catherine let go. The touch she was spoiled with too arousing to stiffle her moans. But the name that was falling from her lips wasn't her lover's but Henry's instead, so the King redirected his gaze at his wife again, meeting her eyes searching his. "Henry please," his Queen whispered, unwilling to come undone under his observation but unable to stop the woman he had made her lover either.
Averting his gaze in honest dismay, the King of France listened to the words of praise his wife's lady whispered against her skin. "I love you, Catherine," Luisa's voice caused the King's heart to crack until it finally broke as her touch sent his Queen over the edge in waves slow and enduring.
"I think I am going mad," he finally whispered, his back still turned to his wife to avoid seeing her face glowing in the aftermath of a sin he had decreed.
Sounding so vulnerable, so defeated, it was the Queen's heart that was scarred now by his response to her release. "Please leave us," she asked her unexpected lover with a saddened smile and wondered why she felt so torn about sending her away.
Daring to place a last soft kiss onto her Majesty's lips, Luisa obeyed her gentle request and drank in the sight of a half-bare Queen taking a moment to collect herself before she reached out her hands to make her husband look at her again.
"I mean it, Catherine. I think I'm losing my mind," the King of France uttered under his breath, his eyes brimmed over with emotion.
Pulling him towards her with a gentle tug, the Queen of France simply replied, "I think you are, my darling." It was one of those moments when honesty trumped deceiving lies.
Accepting her invitation to enter her bed, Henry was quick to seek her embrace and smiled sadly against her neck as his mouth nuzzled her jawline and grazed her ears. "I feel so lost without you," he suddenly admitted, his eyes closed as her scent bewitched him, her hair, her skin. And as she turned to meet his mouth for a buss so tender, it took all his strength not to overpower and devour her. Instead he added, "Help me, Catherine, please."
And her response was as surprising as it was honest, "Of course, my darling. I am your Queen, your mess is mine."