Hello everyone! I'm back with a new fic, even though it deals with an old part of the season. I' m sorry, but I reallt can't help but write about those episodes, they're my faves! And probably the best, but de gustibus.
Anyway, I wrote this sad, sad fic for the mere reason that Reign is finally airing here in Italy and, since episode 8 just aired, nostalgia took me and this was born.
Okay now, I shall stop talking and leave you to the story. Enjoy and let me know what you think!
Disclamer: obviously I don't owe Reign, just a history book with most of its characters in it.
"We are one in a million. We're the lucky ones."
"I will love you until the day God himself decides to take me from your side."
"I'm yours."
Stop. Please, stop. It hurts.
Other memories, other pain, another night away from him.
Mary is dead, or at least she is close to death, she is more in that moment, lying in a cold, uncomfortable bed, far from home, than she was when she jumped off of that damn cliff with Sebastian.
actually, the Queen of Scots isn't dead, actually she doesn't even have a bruise. She's fine, she forces smiles to the pranks her companion makes in a pathetic, but admirable, attempt to make her feel better. Her heart is still beating in her chest, even though it's broken, and God, she can feel it is. Her head still works well enough to remember the story she and Bash invented – they're brother and sister, travelling to Calais to visit their uncle. – At first Bash wanted to say that they were a married couple, but she refused, because in her heart she was married to Francis.
So yes, she wasjust fine.
Yet, she feels dead, and at her core, she knows the reason: because a life without him, isn't life at all.
Mary is not living, she is well aware of that, she had accepted the fact that, by riding away from the only place that she'd ever called home and from the only man that she will ever love, she would survive for the rest of her miserable life, but never live. Not anymore. Not without him.
And that hurt. Surviving hurt.
Mary would never imagined that missing someone could hurt her physically, but the pain she felt every night, when memories visited her, and forbid her to close her eyes, was real. Shards of glass in her heart that moved with every memory, making her heart bleed.
She was doing the right thing. Running away was the right th-…no. she was not running away. Cowards ran away, and she was everything but a coward. She is brave, she is strong; strong enough to love Francis and leave him. And it was that love to make her stronger, just like Catherine said. It was for that love that she didn't turn back when he shouted her name. it was that love to give her the strength she needed to not stop that horse, climb down and run to him.
It was that love that was making her change the course of nations.
And she knew she had to honor it, even if it meant that she had to live in a world where the only traces of Francis were the memories in her heart.
"I remember it all; every word, every moment, for the rest of my life. I love you."