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

Anger…hurt…the pain of betrayal. Catherine could not decide which was worse.

Henry was still talking, trying to make his point but she had ceased to listen. She was tired of his excuses and about to say as much when suddenly the outside world ceased to exist in the wake of a sudden and excruciating pain. It radiated from her abdomen and almost caused her to collapse on the floor. Crying out she doubled over, barely hearing Henry call out to her before the pain overtook her senses entirely and she lost the strength to remain upright.

Henry ran to her side and hugged her limp form to his own. He shifted her so he could cradle her to his body and carry her to bed. He tried to make her as comfortable as he could, all thoughts of their recent spat forgotten. Henry wanted desperately to help his ailing wife who was crying softly as wave after wave of pain tore through her body. "Guards," he shouted, "get the court physician, the Queen has collapsed." Then as an afterthought, "and someone find Nostradamus!" He may not have believed the quack, but his wife certainly did, and at the moment she could use all of the comfort he was able to provide.

Returning his attention to Catherine, he realized that she must had regained her senses enough that she was not muttering to herself, "I was only a little late…I thought…I can't believe…no….no," she said, curling further into herself.

Returning to her side, Henry gently climbed on the bed next to her and began to stroke her face and hair, "Darling, whatever is wrong the physicians will help, we will fix this…"

"No, no…it will never be right, it is too small, too young, too…"

Her words became lost as her sobs overtook her and she buried her face in his chest.

-/-/-/-

Later Henry was momentarily stunned into silence as the the reason for his wife's distress was revealed…she had been pregnant but lost the baby, their baby that he had not even known existed.

Catherine and Henry were sitting on a lounge out on the balcony of her room when the word came in…Henry rose to receive the diagnosis, Catherine never moved an inch.

After listening to the recommendations of the physicians regarding her recovery, Henry had rejoined his wife who was curled up and resting in the corner of the lounge covered in a blanket from the waist down looking out over the Castle gardens, eyes rimmed red from crying, and staring out at nothing.

Henry sat partially at an angle with his head resting in one hand and his other resting gently across her ankles.

He made sure that all vestiges of her ordeal had been removed from the room, the rug, the sheets, the coverlet. Her lady's maids had also prepared a bath and a selection of food which they had laid out for the lone two occupants of the room, though neither had touched a thing.

Beyond that Henry was not sure what to do. He had reached the limits of his knowledge as to what to do when comforting someone for such a loss. He was grieving as well, but knew that his pain paled in comparison to Catherine's as she had been the one carrying the child.

She loved their children deeply, more than any royal he'd ever known. He knew this would scar her.

They sat there for hours…one having no inclination to move, the other not wanting to move away. Catherine had finally drifted off to sleep and Henry turned his full attention to watching her. His strong, fiery, beloved wife who now looked…pale and weak, two words he never would have associated with her before now.

Deciding that after all they had been through recently, that he would take on the primary care for his wife for the time being. Affairs of state would not simply vanish, but he had been acutely reminded of how much he still cared for her, and how precarious life could be. Perhaps this was his chance to show her what he felt…to fix them before it was too late.

He arranged for enough of her personal items to be moved into his rooms that she would be comfortable, relying on her ladies for the specifics, and made sure that every recommendation of the physicians was readily available for her. He also sent word that all of Diane's possessions should be removed to her own rooms for the duration of Catherine's stay. Once he felt certain that all of the arrangements were to his satisfaction he picked her up gently and carried her to his rooms where he hoped she would agree to spend at least the next few days, if not longer.

She began to awake once along the way, but he was able to coax her back to sleep…a true testament to the toll that the afternoon had taken on her. Once they arrived he placed her gently on his bed, already turned down as per his instructions, and tucked her in.

Making one last sweep of the room to make sure his orders had been followed to the letter, he checked in with her ladies and finally made to retire for the night and join her in bed.

Slowly he gathered her in his arms and cradled her to his chest like the precious gift that she was.

He couldn't guarantee that he could protect her from all of life's troubles, or even from his tendency for his eyes and heart to wander, but for the moment he could protect her from the fallout from this…or at least be there to catch her when she fell.

Seeing the blood earlier was a stark reminder for him that though his wife could be as tough as a wolf on the hunt or as feisty as a wild stallion, she was still flesh and blood and by no means invincible.

She bled in flesh and in soul just like he did, and he had been the one to cause far too many wounds over the years.

It was time to help her heal as best he could, to remind her how precious she really was, even when he was too pig headed to show her himself.