The wind whipped at his face and his blonde curls pulled out of his eyes as he galloped down the packed dirt road. He was returning to court. Not only that he was racing towards it. Racing back towards where his heart had begged him to return. He knew the almost tangible pull he felt that was countered with an equally strong dread centered around a certain headstrong, lively, and beautiful dark-haired queen.
"Mary," he allowed her name to be whispered cautiously, testing out the pain that he knew would follow. Could he handle the pain, when he encountered her again? Images of her smile, full of light, flitted across his mind. Even now she could be leaning on the arm of her betrothed, his brother whom he had loved and looked up to his entire life. Her eyes full of love when she gazed upon her new fiancée, the way he yearned for her to once again look at him. He knew Sebastian and Mary's lives would be full of promises and a bright future as they worked together in their responsibilities. He, on the other hand, was forever displaced from the life he had been so blissfully happy in. The void, which had occupied his very soul since leaving French court, ached anew.
The familiar white-hot anger soon followed as he thought of what could have been, of all that had been ripped away in the name of saving him. The life he had prepared for endlessly and sacrificed in the name of, handed over seemingly with ease by his father and Mary to his own brother. There was no end to the betrayal and hurt that he now felt. Francis forced himself to take control of his emotions once again, to lock away the hurt because the die had been cast. He has been replaced supposedly for the good of his country he would not fight it. It was the least he could do for France and her subjects, as he knew it would help prevent civil and political unrest, which would undoubtedly follow any fight he might put up against his father.
The duo of riders slowed as they approached the castle's gates, Francis quickly promised himself to be resolute and focused. Feelings had no place in this mission except to maybe in his appeal to his father.
Francis dismounted and handed his reins to the waiting stable boy, before turning to face the castle's great doors that hung open. He supposed it was the open doors should make him feel welcomed. He was back in the place he had spent most of his life and for all intents and proposes he guessed could be regarded as his home but now all he felt was uncertainty.
He turned at the sound of Lola smoothing her skirt and trying to subtly stretch out the kinks in her muscles. They had ridden hard to reach French court when they had heard about his mother's impending execution. Lola inexperience on horseback had slowed them some but if he was honest with himself having a friend at his side gave him strength. Knowing that someone was looking to him for the lead allowed him to fall back into the familiar position that had been ingrained in him and was one he was most comfortable in. He was able to push aside his reservations and focus on the task at hand- saving his mother.
Lola exchanged a glance with Francis and he gave her a stoic nod before heading into the castle, the servants scattered in their wake no doubt to spread the word of his arrival. "Focus on the mission," Francis lectured himself repeating one of the many lessons he had learned from his father. He could not allow any weakness to derail him and he certainly could not let it seem to observing courtiers that he was back to reclaim his birthright. The importance of his objective would not allow him to let down his guard.
As he and Lola neared the entrance to the main hall he heard her voice, inquisitive as if concerned about something. The familiar warm tone unique to Mary caused him to slow his step, Lola turned down the hall and towards Mary unaware of Francis slowed step.
Lola hugged Kenna and Greer in greeting as Francis stopped just short of the gathering. As clear blue eyes met warm brown ones, the room fell away. The exchanging of greetings of the girls faded into the background. His breath was sucked out of his lungs and in that moment only one another existed. He could feel their bodies calling to each other but both resisted the pull as if their feet had been turned to stone. Even so their bodies leaned towards each other and Francis could only hear the pounding of his blood in his ears.
Slowly he dragged himself back to awareness, resisting the pull to run to Mary, to pull her into his arms and declare himself hers for all eternity. No he was not here for fantasies, the time for dreams had passed. Mary was no longer his to claim, he was here for his mother nothing more.
Mary's own heart had plummeted to her feet when she had saw Francis stiffly approach from down the hall. Buzzing filled her ears and she felt her body lean towards him- physically reacting to his presence. Was he really there? Could he really be standing not more than ten feet from her?
"Your Grace," Lola greeted her. Mary struggled to form a response as her heart leaped from the ground and began to pound relentlessly in her head.
"You're back. Both of you," she managed to force out dragging her focus to Lola.
"Your carriage, why didn't they announce you?" she tried uselessly to keep her eyes from wandering back to Francis, half worried if she looked away he would disappear.
"We ran into each other at a château near Angers," Lola quickly supplied.
"You came back together?" Mary scrunched up her brow in surprise. They had come together? What had Francis been doing near Angers?
We rode.
"There were floods. The carriage I leased was swept away in the night," Lola explained.
Mary nodded, the rest of Lola's explanation fading away. It made sense. Francis would have made sure that Lola was safe if he encountered her in trouble. Her eyes travelled back to Francis, he would do the same for anyone because that was the kind of man he was, a good man.
She vaguely registered Kenna asking Lola something and Lola responding, her brain trying to bring her back to the present.
"…So happy to be back," Mary managed to catch the last of Lola's wish to retire.
"Yes," Mary managed to shift her attention back on her newly returned friend, "we're happy to have you back."
Her ladies in waiting exchanged glances between them as they hastened away from Mary and Francis. Each hoping that the two would finally have a chance to speak honestly and maybe even find closure.
Francis moved closer but maintained a respectful distance from her- well away from her hands that yearned to reach out to him. Mary could feel the wall he placed between them making him seem fifty feet away instead of the four that separated him from her. He wasn't there for her that much was clear. An image of a bedraggled Catherine locked up in tower broke through the haze that seemed to have filled her brain. Of course, he would return in hopes of saving his mother. She had hoped and dreaded for days that his mother's dramatic change in position would bring him back to court.
"You heard of your mother, I'm so sorry," seeing Catherine as Francis' mother, whom he loved just as deeply as she fiercely loved him, instead of powerful and cunning her adversary.
"I'm back to plead with my father for her life," Francis responded resolutely. She knew he would do everything in his power to save his mother and that certainty warmed her heart but also depressed. It was a reminder of Francis' relentless protectiveness for the ones he loved, a small group that she was no longer part of.
"I'll be gone from court once I have my answer and the matter is settled, and you and I will never see each other again," he continued avoiding her gaze. With those words Mary felt like an arrow had pierced her heart. Never see him again? Could she live in a world where they were forever separated? Is that what he wanted?
He looked back to her eyes unable to resist and as if he read the hurt on her face, Francis added, "I don't say this to sound cruel or angry."
Mary mentally shook herself- she had chosen this path. Clearly, he had accepted his fate. He was no longer pursuing her, fighting to be reunited with her. This was about politics and he would want to do what was best for his nation even if he was not the ruler, "I understand. You don't want to be seen as someone lying in wait to reclaim your throne."
Moving a fraction of an inch closer to Mary he said meaningfully, "or anything else that now belongs to my brother." Without giving her a chance to respond he turned away briskly and headed towards his father's chambers.
Unable to turn to watch him leave, Mary shakily released her breath, her mind already starting to remind her of all the reasons why she couldn't run after him. Beg him to forgive her, to stay with her forever, to ride off into the sunset in each other's arms like a fairytale. She was doing this for him because she loved him. She would do anything if it meant he would live a long and healthy life. It was a sacrifice she was making and she would make a thousand times. She would live with the regret and try to make the best of it because she was a queen. She felt her heart harden, she imagined it turning to stone, no longer able to acknowledge the void that was constantly present since she had made the choice to give Francis up.
She resolutely set her shoulders and started to walk back to her chambers. Before she could stop herself her eyes turned down the hall Francis had left down but he was already gone.
A/N: I don't own any of the characters of Reign. Lines from 1.13 were copied and I don't own them either ;)
Another special thank you to CallieCat who graciously beta read for me, she is amazing and without her this story would be full of typos, which are the bane of my existence.
This story was written at the special request of Sheila (st99 of Fanforum) and I hope that you are pleased with the end result. 3