The story takes place in the beginning of the second season. I had the sudden urge to write a one-shot where Mary and Francis has to escape a danger together. You can decide whether or not Lola and the baby exists here, as they are not mentioned, but it is mostly a story about the love between Francis and Mary.
It was written quickly so I'm sorry for any mistakes. I hope you like it!
I don't own any characters or places. _
He was woken by the distant sounds of yells and screaming. Though it had to be coming from down the hall, the king of France immediately felt a rush of panic. He jolted up from the bed sheets and looked anxiously to his side where he found Mary, still peacefully sleeping. There were no traces of invasion in their bedroom, no traces of what could be causing the noise outside.
"Mary. Mary!"
He gently pushed on her shoulder to wake her, resulting in his wife's tired and confused eyes meeting his. She slowly sat up and it was obvious that she did not yet realize the cause of the sudden awakening.
"Francis? What... What is going on? Why did you wake me?" she asked, looking around as if to search for an answer.
Francis gently laid his hand on her cheek to calm her. "Something is going on. I just heard yells from down the hall. Everyone is supposed to be asleep at this hour. I thought I would go check to see if everything is alright." He gave her a kiss on the forehead and stood up from the bed, before grabbing his trousers and shoes from the stool beside them. He quickly got dressed, put on his belt and sword, and moved towards the door.
The yells suddenly got louder, and Mary, now realizing that there might be a real threat, began following her husband's lead. Francis stopped and looked back at her with worry in his eyes. "Stay here until we know what is going on," he ordered her and turned around to reach for the door.
As soon as he stepped outside into the hallway it became clear that something was indeed wrong. From where he stood, he could see maids fleeing the other direction, followed by a few guards. One of the guards looked his way and realized that the king had not been evacuated. With a hand signal to his fellow soldiers, they all ran towards the king.
"Your majesty! You must follow us immediately, a fire has broken out in the corridors, you must get out right away!", one of them said frantically and added, "where is your queen?"
As soon as the guard had spoken, Francis noticed a smell in the air he had not realized was there. It was the same smell you would find near a fireplace. He quickly turned around, back in the bedroom where Mary still sat on the bed awaiting him. "Mary, it's a fire, we have to get out of here right now!", he said and ran to her side to make sure she was with him, that she wouldn't fall behind. She accepted his hand, and together they ran out to join the guards.
"What happened? How did it begin?" Mary questioned the guards as they hurried down the corridor.
One of the men closest to them answered. "We are not sure, my queen, but it has spread rapidly. We need to assure your safety. We do not know if it was an accident, or if someone deliberately started it." They all turned around the corner and was met by the side of Englishmen with swords pointed at them. They were headed right for the royal couple and their guards. The guards quickly drew their swords to meet the enemies, and Mary and Francis stepped a few steps back, not sure what to do or how to react.
It all happened so quickly. Just as Francis stepped forward to draw his own sword and help his men, a scream could be heard from behind them. They both looked back to find a young man, limping away from what looked to be the fire creeping up. Francis looked to the guards fighting and quickly decided that they had it covered, before running towards the danger and the injured man. Mary, not wanting him to go alone, ran with him. Just as they were about to reach him, a loud crash was heard behind them. One of the supporting beams from the roof has just crashed down behind them, trapping them in the corridor with fire on both sides. It quickly became clear that the entire roof above them had to be on fire for this to happen, as the burning beam cut off all access to the exit. Mary and Francis looked at each other with the panic evident in their eyes.
Before either of them could react to the dangerous situation, the limping man beside them stood up with a knife he had concealed in his hand, reaching for Mary with it.
"No!" Francis yelled as he with one quick motion drew his sword and plunged it into the heart of the attacker. He fell to the ground immediately, dead from the precise placement. Francis drew the sword out and his eyes instantly searched for Mary's, finding her still standing beside him.
"Mary? I'm so sorry, I did not realize that he was an enemy." He said as he placed his hands on her arms, pulling her closer as if to shield her from what had just happened. Mary leaned in to the loving embrace, shocked from the rapid events. "It's okay Francis. I did not realize either. It's okay."
"Are you alright?" Francis asked her as he pulled back and looked down at her body to examine it for injuries. Mary gave a slight nod and a smile, before suddenly grabbing her side with a painful expression. Francis followed her movement. His heart nearly skipped a beat when he saw a red color seep through her nightgown.
"Mary! Oh no…" he exclaimed as he gently removed her hand to see the injury. Mary looked just as surprised as her husband to find that the knife had indeed touched her. It was difficult to see the extend of the wound, but Francis knew that he had to get her out of here quickly, to insure her safety. If not, she could bleed to death.
"I… I didn't even realize he hit me. I'm sorry Francis." Mary said, bringing Francis' worried eyes to hers once more. "You have no need to apologize, Mary. Right now, we just need to get you some help. Can you walk?" Mary nodded once more. The king ripped a part of his shirt and tied it around the wound to slow the bleeding, before grabbing her waist and looking around for their way out. During the chaos, he had forgotten that they were currently trapped by fire at both sides. He could no longer locate the guards, and it became clear to him that he would have to save Mary and himself without their help. He looked to his wife once more, finding comfort in the fact that she was still conscious.
"I will get you out of here Mary. I promise you, I will not let you die. I will do everything to make sure you are safe again." Francis tried to sound as calm as possible, but he had never been more scared in his life. He was not scared of the flames closing in on them, not even the possible Englishmen running around the castle. His only concern was for his queen, his wife, his everything. The person he loved the most in the entire world.
Mary smiled at the words. She could see the slight panic in her husband's eyes, and she herself was scared as well, but she appreciated the attempt of calming them down. "I will be happy, as long as we both get out of here alive," she answered, making sure he knew that she would not allow him to only save her. There had to be a way for them to escape. She looked around and suddenly saw an opportunity.
"Francis, the door!". Francis followed her look and saw the only chance of getting away from the increasing fire. To their right there was a door, leading to a bedroom with a balcony. Chances were they could somehow get down to the lower level from there, as there was an identical balcony on the floor beneath them as well.
Making sure his grip was tight around Mary's waist, Francis lead them through the door, closing it behind them to buy time. The flames had not reached this room, luckily, and Francis let go of Mary for a second to examine their options. Looking around the room he saw furniture and carpets, glasses and sculptures. Nothing that would aid them in their current position. Then it dawned on him. What he needed was some kind of rope, something to take him down to balcony underneath. He hurried to the large bed in the middle of the room and began tearing the sheets and binding them together to make one long piece of fabric.
Mary soon realized his plan and joined him, her injury and the pain it was causing her slowing her down. Francis' eyes kept finding hers, just to make sure he still had her there with him. They soon finished making a rope long enough for reaching down multiple times. Francis guided Mary to the balcony and then began tying the homemade rope around her waist, making sure it didn't touch the wound. He made several knots before deciding it was secure enough. He was about to guide her to the edge, when she put her hand on his shoulder.
"Francis, you have to go down with me. I will not leave you up here," she said, her voice stubborn though it was growing weaker. Francis looked at her with pain, he would rather make sure she was safe before thinking of himself, but something told him that he would not get his way. He knew that he should not bother trying to convince her otherwise. That had the roles been reversed, he would have insisted the same.
He tied the same rope around his own waist and secured it, and then tied the opposite end to the stone pillars of the castle wall. The fire had begun tearing down the door leading to the room. There was not time to waste. Mary and Francis looked at each other, both taking a deep breath. "Are you ready? Hold on tight," Francis said to his wife. Mary smiled. "I love you more than anything else Francis," she said, feeling the need to let him know in case their plan didn't work. "And I love you even more," Francis answered and pulled her closer to him. With a hand on her chin, he guided her towards a passionate kiss. It was the fire inside them, the desire for survival, the burning love they shared. Francis gripped tightly around Mary's waist, careful not to hurt her, as she pushed her lips towards his, trying to maintain the feeling for as long as possible.
Then she pulled back, keeping her arms around his neck. Francis grabbed her waist with one arm and stepped up on the edge of the balcony. The wind was strong, and their hair moved behind them, dark brown and gold in front of the burning, orange castle. Then the king stepped off the edge, holding on tight to the rope with the other hand. He slowly moved down the rope, making sure he had a firm grip on Mary all the way.
"Don't look down," he said, as they got further down, closer to the balcony, but also so close to a very long fall. Mary closed her eyes, not wanting to see the danger they were in. It seemed like it took forever, but finally Francis reached the cold stone of the second balcony, still holding Mary in his arms. He swung over the edge and landed softly on the lower level. The couple looked at each other, both filled with the joy of making it safely down. They were still not safe though. They still had to make it completely out. They didn't know if the fire had reached the lower levels or if there were still enemies roaming the castle.
"Francis?" Mary's voice was softer than before. Francis looked down at his wife to see her pupils disappearing behind her lids as she lost consciousness. He quickly tightened his grip around her, now carrying her full weight. "Mary? Mary?" he asked, trying to get her to wake. His worry grew as she remained motionless, and he put his arm under her knees to secure her in a carrying position. "Please hold on my love, I promise I will get you out of her, no matter the cost," he whispered as he began looking for an exit, "just promise me you won't leave me."
He stepped into the room and could not believe his luck as he knew the hidden corridors had an opening in this part of the castle. He hurried to what seemed like a wallpaper and pushed it aside before stepping in.
He looked down at the woman in his arms, noticing blood seeping through the fabric on the wound. "Don't you dare die on me Mary. Not now," he whispered softly, his voice breaking from tears he was trying to hold in. Then he rushed into the tunnels, desperate to save his love.
The tunnels were dark and scary but Francis was able to find his way out by the chalk markings on the walls. He had never welcomed fresh air more than when he stepped out into the night. He did not dare look back, as he only had one thing in mind: Save Mary. She had become even more pale in the moonlight, and he had to get her to a physician before it was too late.
"Francis?" someone said from behind him. He turned around to see a group of friendly faces: Bash, Kenna, Leith and - he could not believe his luck - Nostradamus. They all looked to be well, none of them injured or burned.
Kenna stepped forward as the first one. "Oh my god. Is Mary…? Is she alright?" she asked, the fear written all over her face. Francis looked down at his beautiful wife who now laid still in his arms. "She was stabbed. I fear she is losing time." The tears began forming in his eyes, and he looked pleading to Nostradamus.
"Please help her. Please. I cannot bear losing her," he begged, once more looking down at his wife. Nostradamus stepped forward. "Of course, your majesty. I know of a house not far away. We can seek shelter there, and I will do my very best to help her."
With this new hope, the group began moving, following the physicians lead. They could not afford to spend time finding other friends and family, so they had to simply pray that all they loved were safe and sound.
Francis refused to let the others help him with Mary. He insisted on carrying her himself, so he was sure that she was still there with him, still with a heartbeat and still breathing. He did not let go before they were safe inside the small house and Nostradamus had to examine the injury.
When Mary woke, Francis was there holding her hand. His eyes lit up when they saw hers open, and he embraced her and held her like he would never let go. And there was no doubt in the room that the love they shared was true.