Long May They Reign
Summary: Post 109- Francis has lost it all, but he won't go down without a fight.
Pairing: Mary and Francis
Author's Note: This fic is a three-parter. May interpretation of Bash's character might lean to the negative so be warned. It's slightly spoilery if you haven't seen 109.
Francis tried to hide his smile as he looked at his brother and Mary. "Long may you reign," he said before leaving the throne room. When he first discovered Mary's betrayal, it felt like the world had come caving down on him. Francis was angry and to say he was shattered was an understatement. He smiled at his brother, or should he say usurper, with a smug smile before making his leave. He wasn't sure what he was going to do next, but he wasn't going to allow them to get away with this. Their actions were not only affecting the course of nations, but their actions put his entire family in jeopardy. His mother was dangerous enough without giving her just cause to try and wipe-out her enemies. Mary and Bash had just made themselves enemy number one and they really had little idea what they'd unleashed. But, first he wanted to lie low for his father could be just as dangerous as his tempestuous mother.
Francis found himself at the lakeside where he and Mary had first explored their passion. It was during her engagement to Tomas and they were both so desperate to have a moment together before fate parted them. Thinking of those days left him with a sharp pain in his heart. He missed her and the thought that his brother Bash would now be the one who was free to be with her made him angry. He had tried to get through to Mary, but she was unyielding. She truly believed she was saving his life. If only she knew that she was slowly killing him. It was this strength that he so admired about her. He loved her fiery spirit. It was what made Mary who she was. The madness she was unleashing was something he couldn't quite fathom, but he knew that she loved him. It was the one thing he didn't doubt amidst the chaos. It was this knowledge that Francis would carry with him. For he'd need it as he formulated a plan that would undoubtedly unleash her anger and his brother's as well. For they both believed they were doing what was best for him, but he was duty bound to do what was best for his family; for France.
On his way back to his chambers, Francis came face to face with his younger brother Charles. He looked frightened. "Francis, it's Mama. She's been put in the dungeons," Charles said with tears streaming down his face. "I'm scared."
Francis grabbed the younger boy by the shoulders and said, "It will be fine mon frère. Just going up to your room and sleep."
"Is it true that Bash is the new Dauphin? I heard rumors." Charles asked. Francis smiled and showed him his ring. "Only the true Dauphin wears the ring."
Charles smiled and hugged his brother before heading back to his room. Francis was even more determined to prevent Bash's legitimization. He would not allow his brothers to be put in danger.
"I'm going to be King. You're going to be my wife," Bash said. Mary simply looked at him and tried to not to grimace. She knew he could never replace Francis in her heart, but she was beginning to realize exactly how little she knew about Sebastian DePoitiers. He had a smile on his face like this was something to be proud of. Meanwhile Mary's heart was breaking into two. She hoped she was simply misunderstanding Bash and he was as sad about what they were forced to do. She looked out at the sea and remembered standing in this same spot with Francis not too long ago and the joy she felt at their future together. All she felt now was despair. She had England and France to gain, but she lost Francis and it didn't seem worth it.
"He'll recover. He has his life now," Bash said in an attempt to assuage her guilt. But, Mary simply frowned. Afterwards, they parted ways and she went to her bedchamber. Her ladies-in-waiting understood that she needed the time to let everything sink in. Mary removed her clothing with the help of the maid. Once she was in her bedclothes, she lay in bed and cried. She cried for Francis, for the love they shared and for the future they had dreamed of having together. A soft knock on the door startled her, but she didn't have the energy to get up and open it. The door creaked open and there he stood. Mary closed her eyes. "I must be dreaming."
Francis walked towards the bed and said, "No, you aren't dreaming."
Mary sat up and shook her head. "You need to leave Francis. I'm not changing my mind."
"That's not why I'm here," he said as he ran his fingers through her long brown hair. "One night. One last night."
Mary closed her eyes and leaned into his hands. She couldn't resist him. She wanted the very thing he was asking for; one final moment with him, something to cling to during her darkest days. Francis kissed every inch of her face. His caresses stirred her back to life in a way that only he could. He slowly removed her bedclothes as she helped him out of his. The night was theirs. They expressed every ounce of emotion that lay in their hearts. Francis brought her to the peak and back down again only to illicit moans of desire that she was sure could be heard through the very thick castle walls. But, neither of them cared. This night was for them and for them alone. It was nearly morning when he finally left her bedside. Francis kissed her on the temple and said, "I'll never stop fighting for you."
He headed back to his chambers and immediately started composing a letter to his uncles on the de Medici side. The power of his maternal ancestors was far-reaching and they would be exactly the people he needed to put this silliness to an end. Francis beckoned for Jean-Pierre, the stable-hand. He was a good rider and was the first to warn him of Mary and Bash's departure. Francis packed his things for he had someone else to see while he sent Jean-Pierre to deliver the letter. He mounted his trusty seed looked back at the castle and headed towards Calais with the help of three of his trusted guards.