A/n: This is my first Reign fic and I will also be posting this as a one shot on and archive of our own. Set in 1 x 13. I couldn't help writing about the look they shared! The title is the song they played during the episode.
Show: Reign
Ship: Catherine and Henry
Disclaimer: I don't own reign sadly I'm not Mary Queen of Scots
Description: Henry can't seem to get his mind off of his wife after watching Mary walk down the aisle.
The Power of Love
King Henry turned his head as the wedding march began to play. He couldn't believe this glorious day had finally come; the day his son would truly become a man. He would never admit it, but he was proud of Francis. His son who he all but ignored was getting married. A small smile crossed his lips at the thought.
Mary, beautiful, headstrong, Mary made her descent down the stairs. She looked absolutely stunning. His eyes wandered over her lithe frame shrouded in lace and silk; something about her reminded him of Catherine. He caught his wife's eyes, sparkling with merriment and unshed tears. She allowed him a small smile before turning her attention to the altar.
As Francis and Mary professed their love for god to hear Henry's eyes strayed again to Catherine. Unfortunately, instead of Catherine's blue eyes, his eyes fell upon Marie de Guise, the "King" of Scotland. She raised an eyebrow, a haughty grin spreading over her face before speaking to Catherine. Henry watched as the mirth fell from Catherine's face like the mask it most likely was, and she rolled her eyes in pure annoyance.
Confetti fell from the sky like raindrops and the ballroom was alive with light and laughter. Mothers and daughters, queens and peasants alike joined hands and danced in circles around the newlyweds. Henry accepted the offered drink, watching as Kenna and Greer, hand in hand, passed him by. The people were literally dancing circles around him.
The relaxed atmosphere was quickly shattered when a messenger requested his listening ear. Henry tilted his head slightly so he wouldn't draw suspicion. His grip tightened on the goblet in hand as he heard the news. He briefly registered the look upon Marie's face as the messenger went on his merry way.
A hand appeared on his shoulder, flicking away pieces of the white from his fur coat. He knew it was Catherine, it had to be her. He took a moment to breathe in her scent, she smelled of spices and jasmine mixed with something distinctly Catherine.
"What troubles my King on this day of celebration?" she asked, never removing her hand from his shoulder.
His lips twitched in amusement. Catherine was the only woman he'd ever met who spoke with a smile, even when she wasn't wearing one. It angered him how easily she read his emotions especially when he hadn't said a word.
"Don't you have a funeral to plan?" he turned to her an unreadable expression on his face. He grinned at her scoff of annoyance, using his only leverage against her.
"Are you upset because there's no one to warm your bed tonight? I'm sure Diane will make up for her absence when she returns... after all there's always eager young Kenna."
Catherine pointed briefly to the young woman whose smile filled the room like rays of sunlight. Henry pursed his lips and removed her hand from its resting place, entwining his fingers with her smaller ones.
"Don't tell me the Queen of France is jealous of a fifteen year old girl," he chuckled, tightening his grip on her as she began to pull away.
"Your gall never ceases to repulse me, Henry."
He snaked his other hand around her waist, leading her onto the dance floor, against her will of course. Catherine's cursed under her breath as the crowd of people parted for their rulers. As their bodies began to sway to the music Catherine turned her head to hide her girlish grin. She felt heat creep up her cheeks and she cursed her body for betraying her.
Henry ran a tender hand over the hollow of her cheekbones in the same manner he'd done mere weeks before. Catherine met his eyes, the rebellious streak of her Medici blood shining in her eyes. He wished that only if for a night his wife would allow him to love her. He truly was in love with her, regardless of popular belief.
The royal couple were lost in each other's arms, bodies pressing closer with every step they took. They fit together like puzzle pieces, his hand wrapped securely around her waist as she ran her hand over the nape of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. She giggled quietly at the memory of Henry with hair, although she'd never complain about his bald head, truthfully she found it alluring.
What's funny?"
"You're bald," she answered.
"Not completely."
Laughter spilled from her lips as Henry spun her around, her dress billowing around her in soft waves. The music stopped and the room erupted in the sound of applause. Catherine began to pull out of her husband's grip, removing her hands from his firm grasp. Her hands flew to her cheeks which were surely scarlet colored by now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd danced... let alone with Henry.
The royal couple watched as the room cleared, preparing for the consummation. Catherine began to exit, glancing over her shoulder at her husband.
"Are you coming or not?"
His brow furrowed in confusion as he hurried to match her stride. "Where?"
"To bed. The king should never sleep alone."
A grin spread over his face as he lifted Catherine into his arms and carried her bridal style. Her shriek of surprise was drowned out as he placed his lips upon her own. Maybe her family was wrong. For what force is stronger than the power of love?