Author's Notes: This was written for our daily F/M thread challenge, which is intended to keep us busy for the remainder of the hiatus. We get 24 hours after the prompt is released to write something. Today's prompt is "picking up the pieces." This is set a few months after the 111, and presumes several speculatory items which are not necessarily supported by any solid spoilers – but if you like to avoid such things, you've been warned!
Disclaimer: I have no claim of ownership on "Reign" or its characters - that belongs to the CW, CBS and Laurie McCarthy. I just like the chance to play!
Thump.
"Aie!"
My mouth lets loose a simple cry of hurt as I reach my hand up to cradle the spot where my head connected with the table above me. Luckily, I'm not yet large enough to lose my balance.
Blasted marbles.
Were there fifteen of the glass orbs? I try to remember the rules, hoping I'm nearing the end of my hunt in the nursery. Thirteen in the center? And two larger ones to aim at the others?
Exasperated, I grasp for number fourteen, the location of which has led to the pain throbbing at the back of my skull. It's warm, certainly, but it's not bleeding. My hand settles at my middle as I sit back on my heels and take a moment to rest.
Now if only I could find that one last marble …
Footfalls sound and halt as they enter the doorway – boots, from the heavy strike of the heel. Still under the table, searching, I hope the person doesn't see my ridiculous position. It is not very ladylike, much less behavior befitting a queen.
"Mary?" I hear the hurry of steps toward me. "Are you all right?" Before I register the words, a hand gently rests on my elbow, attempting to help me emerge from my hovel.
"Oh, I'm all right." I respond, grappling to secure my footing.
I spin around as best as I can while crouching, trying to avert his gaze. That voice belongs to no stranger. Waving off his offered hand, I waddle out from under the table and allow him to help me stand. When I finally look up, all I see is concern written into his eyes. They appear a dark and cloudy blue today.
"May I ask what you were doing down there?" For the first time in months, there is no lingering hardness, only concern – and perhaps a bit of a twinkle at having found me in such an unusual position.
I unclench my fingers from my palm, revealing the two round trophies of my hunt. His eyebrows quirk up, and I can tell he verges on laughter.
"Greer said I might find you here with Charles and Henry. May I ask why you are crawling around after marbles, pregnant no less, and my brothers are nowhere to be found?"
He helps me to a nearby chair. It feels good to stretch my legs out before me after the cramp of my previous location.
"I thought I might try to play with the boys. Charles was so close to Clarissa – she was his friend – and then everything happened with the wedding and the baby … " I trail off, a sob catching dryly in my throat. "I just wanted him to know that he still had a friend, so the nurse said I could come join them this afternoon. Charles tried to teach us how to play marbles. Your Medici relations brought him new ones from Venice when they came to visit your mother, you know?"
He collects the two marbles from my hand and places them with the others in the glass bowl on top of the table. Now kneeling, he begins to knead his thumb into the pad of my hand, urging it to relax after its clasping.
"You're rambling, Mary," he smiles lightly. I've missed that particular smile, too many sad ones having taken its place in recent months. "But please continue. Charles tried to teach you how to play marbles?"
"Yes, he did." My countenance gives away my dissatisfaction with the result.
"Was it that bad?" he asks softly.
All I can do for a moment is nod before I resume speaking.
"Neither myself nor Henry understood the rules and Charles became quite frustrated. He sent all of the marbles rolling throughout the room in his anger, which frightened poor little Henry. The nurse took them to the kitchens for a snack and to calm them down, which left me–"
"To pick up the marbles," he finishes for me, understanding registering on his face. "Are there any more?"
"Only one, I think." My answer is soft, unassuming.
When did I become so hesitant around my husband?
He stands upright, twisting about to get a better look at the room.
The answer, of course, is that I became hesitant the moment we wed. Too much had happened. We both found ourselves tentative and guarded, even as we at last entered into the one thing we both desired most. Only as my body revealed its souvenir from our nights together – before the prophecy – did we find sufficient cause for the tension between us to release. With each day's new light, I feel more and more as though we are beginning again.
Over his shoulder, he spies a bright cobalt ball situated astride the bottom of a tapestry on the north wall. Strolling over, he retrieves it and holds it up for the light to stream through.
"Is this the last, then?" As I confirm that it is, he crosses to the table and adds it to the bowl.
A yawn escapes, my eyelids fluttering shut involuntarily as the influx of air pushes my shoulders upward. Exhaustion has emerged in the wake of my exertions.
"Perhaps it is time for you to rest?" He looks at me as he speaks the question.
"Yes, I suppose it is," I answer, shifting my weight so that I might rise from the chair. His arm snakes around my waist and his hand grabs my elbow as I stand up.
We walk toward the door and into the corridor, ambling slowly toward our rooms. My mind wanders a bit, landing on what I assume is a silly question.
"Will you teach me to play?"
I cannot see his face, but I feel his cheek move into a smile against my hair. "On two conditions."
"And what are those conditions?"
A low chuckle escapes him as he relays his terms. "The first is that there will be no playing on the floor for several months." He moves his hand from my elbow to rest on my slightly protruding belly. "The second is that there will be no more picking up marbles from the ground for the same amount of time. Are we agreed?"
I stop and turn to face him, smiling.
"Agreed."