This story goes after the ep 12th of Reign and ignores the 13th episode for good. I haven't forgotten about 'Medici Blood' (that story is finished, so I just need to upload it). Please, don't forget to review as that's the biggest inspiration for all the writers :D This story will be all up before the 13th ep airs, so keep your eyes open. The first chapter goes to Nostradamus, the second one is Francis saying his teary goodbyes to his mother, and then of course there are two huge chapters of Henry being... king Henry :D Yes, this story is fully written as well:)
Her heart was beating loudly, hitting the ribcage with every blow. The corset that she always wore in the past years, felt like it was killing her itself. The air was heavy, and her breath stopped every now and then. Her throat was on fire. The whole body of the queen was trembling so much that — it seemed — she'd fall onto the dirty floor of her cell if it wasn't for the guards holding her. The beats in her head were counting down the last moments of her life — there it was, the servants helped a half-conscious woman put on the shoes, while the guards held the queen by her shoulders. One of the soldiers reached out for a rope, and the other one touched Catherine's hands to put them together. It wasn't that they were afraid of her escaping — she barely stood on her feet. And she had no idea what was wrong with her — the last thing she wanted in her final moments was to be so volnurable. The rope touched the queen's wrists — and they were now tied in front of her.
In the last few weeks the tower turned to be both a performance stage and the place of punishment for Catherine. The king knew how to hurt his wife the worst: and with every new attempt he became more and more wicked. The short truce they had after a night together vanished, burnt in the flames of her adultery. There was no nostalgy in the world that could heal Henry's hurt pride, because not only his wife had slept with another man and gave birth, but it was Henry's best friend who she did that with.
At some point Catherine hoped back then, while skinning her wrists with the sharp dirty cuffs, that the king would hear of her cuicide attept in the Queen of Scot's chambers. But even if his majesty knew what happened, he never reacted and never came to visit his wife. It was probably because he was only told one side of the story: the one where an evil Italian witch tried to kill poor Mary again..
For several weeks in a row Catherine was left alone in the tower, with no visitors allowed. Heavy chains — a brutal present of the king's bastard son for Catherine's attempt on his bride's life — would barely allow the queen to get up from her hard prison bed. It was one of those days when Catherine thought she was going crazy, when the door to her cell opened. Usually that meant the food was coming.
They never let Catherine have her meal on her own — probably fearing she'd escape using the iron plate or a spoon. Instead, the guards stood next to the woman, watching with a hidden joy how she pushed the untasty food down her throat and how the chains made her so very sloppy. None of the guards ever spoke a single word in the queen's presence — for all those weeks she was kept in silence. Catherine wouldn't be surprised to know that her husband threatened to kill anyone who'd speak to Medici.
Until that one day when it wasn't the guard who brought her food. It was Nostradamus who carried a tray with unbearably ugly meal towards the queen's bed. He must've found a way to convince the guards to let him in, because starting from then, he often visited the condemmed queen in her cell.
«Hello, my old friend» Catherine said trying to get up on the bed as carefully as possible. The injuries on her wrists hurt like hell — if they weren't taken care of, she'd be dead of ganrene way before the execution would take place. Perhaps it wasn't a regal way of dying — but all the same it had more grace in it than the queen's head being chopped off and rolling down to the feet of the castle servants...
...At this thought — or maybe because the guards tied her wrists all too tight with a rope — Catherine started to faint, almost hanging on the guards hands. The corset — even though it wasn't tight at all — squeezed the remains of the air and sanity out of the queen. «I don't want to die» - she kept whispering, again and again, while her mind traveled back and forth between now and then. Between the last spectacle Henry was going to make her a part of, and that happy moment when Nostradamus found an explanation for Catherine's being under the weather all the time. No, back then it had nothing to do with her being hungry most of time, nor was it being unable to move — those things mostly influenced her mind...
As it appeared later, Nostradamus came to his queen not as much to tell her of her health condition or about his new vision — but to add some potions to her food. Seeing the queen's pregnancy as her only way of surviving the execution, the seer wanted to make sure she wouldn't loose the baby on the early stages. But Catherine refused to tell the king that she carried his son in her belly even after there were no longer any doubts about her being with child. Instead, she asked Nostradamus to help her save the child, to escape to Italy. And the faithful old friend couldn't refuse his queen. That was what he'd be torturously executed before the queen today for— for her to see the suffering and death of her friend before her own head would be chopped off.
At a thought of blood Catherine felt sick — so very sick. She started coughing, shaking desperately.
«Your Majesty» her maid said, helping the queen to sip some water from a glass and involuntarily touching Catherine's belly hidden under the corset. The old servant - whom king Henry appointed to help the queen prepare for the execution - was shocked and scared to find out about Catherine's pregnancy while dressing her this morning. How could a king execute his pregnant wife? The old woman didn't know what to think, so she just did what she could to ease the poor queen's suffering...