A/N: Longer Chapter, Mary and Francis talk
Walking with Lola and explaining Francis' condition the next morning, Mary had renewed hope. What she'd been so fervently hoping for had come to pass and Francis was awake and recovering. Lola was pressing her for details about Scotland, though, and Mary had no real answers for her.
"Well, of course I won't be going. Francis has just woken up and there is still so much instability both in our marriage and in France. As for troops, I want to send them but- "
Mary was cut off by Catherine rounding the corner, "but that's not your place. It's Francis' decision now that he's no longer incapacitated. I took the liberty of informing him of your betrayal- both personal and political. He says he's made a decision." Catherine did not direct Mary to follow her, but Mary did anyway. She didn't know if that had been Catherine's intent, or if it had merely been to gloat.
Entering Francis' room, Mary smiled. He was sitting up. He looked alert, if a pale. "Francis!" Mary started toward him, but the lack of a return smile combined with Catherine's previous comments stopped her cold and kept her rooted in place.
Francis explained to an outraged Catherine and a stunned Mary that he would indeed send troops to Scotland to bolster the alliance against the common foe of England. To showcase France's strength. Catherine wanted to protest but Francis' said his decision was final and she stormed from the room.
It was just Francis and Mary left.
She started toward the bed again, noting the chair she had spent two nights in was now at the foot of the bed. "Francis, I don't know what your mother told you-" His voice stopped her words and her approach.
Being cut off for the second time that day, Mary understood that Francis needed to speak, "She told me everything, Mary. She told me how you were planning to leave me, damning our marriage vows. She told me that you planned to abandon our alliance, the crown France bestowed upon you, and to forsake the country that has housed you from the time you were a very young child." The venom rose in his voice, "I'm keeping my part of the bargain. It is the honorable thing to do."
Mary steeled herself and finished her walk toward the bed. She sat on the edge of it near his feet, noting that the action made his uncomfortable. "Francis, I know that your mother's distaste for me and what she deems as usurping your power, along with my," she paused. Was it still infidelity if she had gotten his permission? Yes, she decided, as she had been sneaking around and entertaining her feelings for Louis before Francis had known of it, "my infidelity, is great. However, she only knows what her spies are able to tell her." She smoothed out her skirts to avoid looking at Francis as she gathered her courage. "Francis, I know that we have ceased to be close, but I thought you knew me better than this. I have always put my duty above my feelings as have you. It's who we are. This has usually been to your detriment as you've been hurt more than anyone by my need to be the best queen possible for my people"
Francis scoffed at this and turned away from her. "And you're telling me that begging me to sanction your affair was in the best interest of your people? It's a completely selfish request, Mary, and you know it."
She gulped. "Yes, I suppose it does look selfish and it was, partially. But I was becoming bitter. I was weak, meek, and scared. I'm not saying that this affair has been right. I'm only saying that it renewed my strength and reminded me that I am more than your wife. I am a queen of two nations, one by birthright and I need to be acting as such. And I am acting as such, Francis. For example, you should know that I would never abandon our alliance or my people here in France. I have come to love them as I love the people of Scotland." She hopped off the bed and gripped the lower post of the bed, "You more than anyone should know that my feelings are irrelevant and that am not going anywhere. I've forgiven you everything and I fully intend to stay, in hopes that someday you'll forgive me too."
Settling back against his pillows, Francis looked weak and Mary realized that she was putting him under a great deal of strain as he should be resting. "Mary, will you hand me a cup of water, please?" Mary did so, holding the goblet for him and helping him sit up. "Mary, I'm not quite as weak as all this. I can hold my own water cup." He smiled and sat back again. "As much as I might wish that it was out of love instead of duty that you're staying, I suppose I'm just relieved that you are. I didn't want to think the worst of you, but you've given me plenty of evidence."
Setting the cup down sharply and turning back to her husband. "I never said anything about my feelings currently. I was merely stating the reasons that, absent of any emotions, you should have known I would stay. I still care for you, Francis. I always have. I just couldn't bear to be around you. But while you've been asleep, I've been here. Ask Bash, ask any of the servants, ask your mother, though she would be loath to admit it, I've been here every spare moment praying for you and keeping watch, straining with everything I have to see any sign of life." Pausing, she gripped the armrest of the chair and swung it to its former place, "The previous two nights I stayed in this chair all night. I held your hand. I prayed. I fell asleep on your chest, listening to your heart, your breath. Remembering happier times when I had fallen asleep on your chest, in the comfort of your arms. I long for that again, Francis. I just don't know how to get there."
Curling his hands into the furs of the topmost blanket, Francis considered all that she was telling him. "So, Condé is gone, then?" Mary's eyes dropped immediately to the floor, guilt all over her face. "I thought not. Mary, how am I to believe a word that you've said if he's still in your life?"
Closing her eyes, Mary wished to just leave the room, but she couldn't run from these conversations with her husband if they ever hoped to be united again. Opening them on a deep exhale, she tried to explain, "The situation is more delicate than that, Francis."
He spoke harshly, "you mean your feelings for him are stronger, don't mince words, Mary."
Her words came out equally sharp, knowing that this could escalate into a full-blown shouting match and that she should try to stop that from happening, she kept her tone even, if clipped, "No, Francis, there is more to it. Elizabeth has entered the equation and to extract myself at this point is both dangerous for us politically as well as difficult for me to do to someone whose only fault in all of this has been to love me." Tears shone in Mary's eyes and she willed them not to fall.
Francis saw them as well and desired so strongly to take her in his arms and wipe them away. This conversation was too important. He had to remain strong even as his body was so weak. "From where I'm standing, that's a treasonable offense and he could be executed for it. That fixes all our problems as far as I can tell."
Mary's nostrils flared and she swallowed thickly, willing the emotion out of her voice, but noting that it wavered in anger, "I will speak with him and see what I can do, so as to avoid you speaking more on this matter and acting like a tyrant rather than the king I've been ruling with and have grown to love." She said the last word with such malice that it was clear she was feeling anything but love toward him at that precise moment, but she didn't care. She stood quickly, knocking the chair over and walked from the room.
