Disclaimer: I neither own Reign, nor profit from this story.

Henry was tired.

Tired of politics, tired of things not going his way, and tired of fighting.

After his encounter with Catherine this afternoon, he spent some time thinking of their early years of marriage. Years not yet tainted by Catherine's fretting over their lack of an heir, or his resulting loneliness and wandering eyes.

She was his true achilles heel and had seen him at his lowest as well as his most triumphant. Even after their marriage had disintegrated into a series of spats, Diane was never a guaranteed constant with all her trips to Paris…Catherine was. Ever the consummate Queen she made sure that all of her her duties, as a figurehead for France and as his other half, were taken care of no matter her own personal feelings.

As he finished going through his reports from the day, Henry sighed at the current state of his life. That a teenage girl had so thoroughly turned his once…mostly orderly life on end was almost unfathomable. The fact that she had managed to catch Catherine in her web as well was as amusing as it was impressive.

He knew, no matter how the next few days would go, that dethroning Catherine would be by no means an easy feat…if he was even forced to go that far.

Deciding to take a walk before attempting to settle in for the night, he made his way out the door and decided to stop by his room for a warmer cloak knowing that the corridors would be chilly. Starting off at random, he ended up near the tower…chuckling to himself as he acknowledged that his wife had always called to him like no other.

In the quiet of the evening, and with no celebrations planned, the Castle was impressively still. As he neared the tower he heard whimpering cries coming from within and recognized them…their sound and their probable cause.

When he and Catherine still spent the night together he would sometimes wake up to her crying, caught in a nightmare from her past. He had become sufficiently capable of drawing her out of these dreams, though he hadn't done so in many years.

Feeling a sense on compassion in the wake of recent events and his own contemplations he continued on to his wife's current living quarters with the intent of pulling her from the clutches of her demons.

Taking a moment to peer through the small window, Henry immediately realized the reason for the return of her night terror. Not only was the tower frigid but everything had been removed, everything but a cot and a chamber pot. Catherine was nothing if not a creature of comfort, but he knew there was a reason for that. Her time in Florence had left her scarred, and the cold dank nature of the tower without all of her rugs and tapestries were the cause of this particular rendition from her past.

Shaking his head as he could only imagine the her reaction, seen and unseen, when Mary must have ordered them all removed. Although he had left soon after banishing her to the tower, he had received the requests for her various accommodations and allowed them for this very reason.

They had both taken their shots at each other, but he really wasn't a cruel man.

Nodding at the guard to let him in, he was given a quiet warning before he waved the guard off and faced Catherine and her demons alone.

Taking a moment to look around he sighed in relief when he found Catherine still asleep and on the cot. Drawing her out when she was partially awake but still lost in the memories was innumerably harder.

Walking quietly over to the cot, he made ready to pick her up quickly and efficiently. He had to be just one step ahead of her unconscious mind or he'd wind up with quite a few bruises and scratches before she came back to herself.

Scooping her up and sitting back down on the cot he held firmly onto his wife making sure not to breath direct on her and to keep her limbs as immobile as possible.

As she struggled and mumbled even more in Italian, almost causing him to lose his grip, he helped her to ride out her unseen foe and waited for her to return to consciousness. Slowly her struggles lessened and her cries turned into whimpers, then into light sobs.

He had hoped that though it had been many years she would remember the way he used to hold her like this. To his knowledge she had never shared even a fraction of what she had endured in Florence with anyone else, and so he had been only one to ever ride out these episodes with even the limited knowledge that he had.

Eventually her breathing calmed and she became almost completely still, at least until she began to speak.

"Henry?"

"Yes Catherine, its me."

"I…you…I mean I don't…you can release me now."

Chuckling internally at the loss of her usual eloquence, he slowly released his grip so that he was still cradling her but far more gently. Instead he settled her into a more upright position, tucking her head into his neck.

"And why shouldn't I give my wife comfort in her time of need?"

"That's what you're going with?" she half asked, half scoffed in her embarrassment.

"You never were very good at letting others take care of you, were you?" Shifting so one hand now circled her shoulders, and one her back, he continued. "I suppose the only way I ever got this far is because I would always catch you unawares."

Huffing at the truth in his statement, she tried to pull away further and he let her, dropping both hands to her waist.

"After everything, I didn't think you even cared anymore, Henry."

"Oh I care Catherine, sometimes its just so hard…there is so much history that I don't even know where to start." Combing his fingers through her hair he continued, "You are a master at deception, you always have been…except in these times."

"Yes well, I will have to make a note of that for future reference…though I doubt it will do much good given the current path that you and Mary have planned for my future."

Sighing at the reminder of the very real, very pressing problem of the Scottish Queen's demands.

"Well, I can only deconstruct one nightmare at a time…you were the only one ever good at multitasking."

Chuckling to herself despite the current situation, "Well you can include that that on my headstone."

Sighing, he brought her close again, confounded by both her mild manner and the dilemma of the two very stubborn Queens which lately had dominated his waking hours.

As she relaxed into him, her body shivered from the cold temperature and the few layers she still had on.

Realizing she was dressed only in her chemise and her softer undergarments due to the uncomfortable nature of her daywear, he decided to make the most of what may have been some of his last moments with her.

Urging her to move next to him, he began to remove his boots and belt.

"Henry," she sighed, "what are you doing?"

"What does it look like I am doing my dear?"

"Henry, even if we were…more than we were, there is barely enough room for me in this cot," she finished with a disapproving note in her voice.

"Well then I guess we will have to stay close and hold on to one another," he replied smirking at her.

Removing his cloak and laying it on top of the cot like a blanket, he got in and settled at the far edge beckoning her to join him.

After a moment of hesitation and a huff of annoyance she did, initially laying on her back and staring at the ceiling before the warmth offered by the nearness of his body overtook her annoyance and she willingly curled into his body.

He responded by cradling her in his arms and encouraging her to move even closer.

This was the second time in one day that he had been able to hold her like this, and he missed it.

Finally allowing himself to relax, he gently kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes. His dreams that night were filled with golden curls and hazel eyes…his beautiful, fiery, Florentine bride returned to him, even if only for a night.