Suffocate

[A/N] Disclaimer: All dialogue is from the episode "In a Clearing."

Mary didn't have any tears left.

She had used them all up.

No, all she had now was a burning anger, a rage that churned in the pit of her stomach and gave her energy she did not know what to do with, and grief – a deep-seated grief that felt like a weight on her chest.

She had cried so often these past weeks over Francis, over the crippling loss. Now wasn't the time to weep, to mourn – she wanted revenge. She would avenge his death if it killed her as well, if it was the last damn thing she ever did. And she knew just where to begin.

Throwing open the doors to Nicholas's study, she felt a certain satisfaction at the startled look on the English envoy's face as he spun around to face her, book in hand, but it only lasted a moment, replaced once more with a hot anger that wouldn't sputter out and leave her to her grief.

"Was your queen behind this?" The Queen of Scots demanded, the words like acid on her tongue as she strode into the room.

"Your Majesty –?"

Mary had no patience for his games, for the innocence he feigned as he stared at her.

"Assassins attacked me. Francis saved my life but now he is dead, and there is only one person I can think of who wants me eliminated." She was vaguely aware that she was rambling, perhaps even going into shock.

"Elizabeth has no motive."

The fury sparked inside her, fueled by the worry in his voice, the confusion. As if he didn't know what was going on. "You said that she was impulsive! You said that she was vindictive. Maybe this is revenge for all of the times I've outwitted her."

"You gave her what she wanted when you signed the accord," Nicholas tried to reason with her.

Mary gritted her teeth, and then all the emotion inside her rose and escaped in a sort of agonized cry – "The only way I am no longer a threat to Elizabeth is if I am gone!" she said, her voice rising as she spoke and her last words hitching on a sob.

"She is not behind this!"

A terrible idea came to life in her scattered thoughts then, taking form before it could be brushed away like everything else, and tears sprang to the woman's eyes again. "Was Francis an intended victim too?" Mary breathed, oblivious to the look of bewilderment in the diplomat's eyes. "Is she trying to destroy my life with Francis? That's it!"

That had to be it. Elizabeth had done this. She had failed to outsmart the Scottish queen politically and she had turned to destroying Mary's personal life, she had taken her beloved from her, and Mary would fight back, she would take from her cousin until Elizabeth was destroyed –

She became aware then that Nicholas was trying to reason with her again, and the rage blistered within her, causing her eyes to swim with the tears she had thought were gone.

"I know you need someone to blame right now." His voice was soothing, but Mary was having none of it. "But Elizabeth would never order the death of another monarch for fear that someone would dare to kill her. It's not a precedent she wants set."

"She supported Conde's attack!" Her voice rose once more, on the edge of hysteria.

"She supported the coup but what happened to Francis after that was up to the French-"

Mary wanted to tear her hair out, she wanted to throttle him…

She wanted to take back what was hers.

Drawing a deep, unsteady breath, Mary strode around the desk, flinging paperwork and letters everywhere as she searched for the peace accord. Any desire she had felt to appease her cousin was long gone now.

"Don't do anything rash!" Nicholas was in a panic behind her.

As if she cared. Mary whirled on him then, her voice one of absolute anguish and breaking as she spoke, delving into absolute hysteria this time. "I have been left with nothing! I will take back what is mine and if you want to stop me you'll have to kill me!"

The peace accord was torn to shreds. Tossed into the fireplace. She watched as it burned, cheeks streaked with tears once more, but the fire within her wasn't yet put out.

"That doesn't change anything, you signed that accord."

"It is your word against mine!" Mary's words came out in a snarl as she whirled on him again. There was a moment of silence, and then her voice was remarkably steadier, a whisper when she spoke once more. "England has taken enough from me this day!"

She didn't wait for a response before bolting from the room. The new banners, hung only hours before to signify their new peace with England, to show that Mary had renounced her claim on the English throne, caught her eye as she reached the phone room and a wild sob tore from her throat.

They had to come down. The English throne was rightfully hers, by God, and she would have none of this, treaty and peace accords be damned. She had lost her husband and her French throne at Elizabeth's hands. Her cousin wouldn't have her birthright as well.

Breaking into a run, Mary ripped down the first banner, casting it aside and tearing the other away as well, stepping on them and trampling the blue silk into the ground as she wept. To hell with England, to hell with her cousin.

The anger was gone, and the tears had made their return. The grief was the most prominent emotion within her.

The queen of Scotland within her wanted to rage on, to avenge her husband's death and conquer the world.

And one day, she would satisfy that urge.

But the woman within her wanted only to mourn her husband, to release the pent-up grief that was even now carving a hole in her chest.

Turning, she looked upon the empty room, the banners that now lay on the floor, the throne where she would never again sit as the Queen of France, and she screamed.

A sob hitched in her throne, and a second scream tore from her throat, echoing around the throne room. It was sure to bring the guards running, but she did not care.

Mary sat down on the steps, and she wept.