A/N: I have thought a lot since my update for this story, and the one thing that runs through my mind is that I should not leave things unfinished. I am pretty much done with Reign, my interest level is totally depleted, but I do think I should finish this. Maybe, someday, things will change on the show and I can be more inspired to write. Thank you for your kind words and support. I think we're all a little bruised right now in the Frary fandom, but who knows. Maybe we'll someday be pleasantly surprised. -B.
All day long Mary had been silent. The previous night's events had weighed heavy with Francis, and their residual effects did not disappear. When he tried to speak to her, her answers were always short and to the point. She had reverted back to just business, and it couldn't have been more disappointing for Francis.
Unfortunately, she was coerced into visiting his mother. Apparently, Francis needed to go since she too was in Paris, and he thought bringing Mary would be good, especially since it was highly likely that Catherine de Medici would be at Narcisse's party this week. Francis wanted no surprises.
The ride was quiet. Mary seemed to be involved in some sort of work on her phone or staring out the window, but certainly ignoring Francis. He made a few calls, read a little, and tried his best to ignore the uneasy feeling between them.
"My mother doesn't know you're coming."
"Lovely." Mary responded not even bothering to look at him. She remembered the first and last time she met Catherine, a force to be reckoned with and dutifully respected.
Ten Years Earlier
"Francis stop!" Mary was laughing the entire way up to their third story apartment. He had been trying to tickle her here and there from the moment they got out of the car. She kept trying to push him off, but unlocking the door of their apartment was the worst idea. It gave him ease of access to her sides and he continued with his merciless attack. They fell into the small foyer of their meager sized apartment. Francis held onto her from behind as they stumbled in their laughter. When they finally steadied themselves, he spun her around to kiss her gently, slowly. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the keys feeling cold at the base of it still dangling from her hands, and he pulled her close to him.
A loud "ahem" came from a few steps away and Francis and Mary quickly pulled off of each other to see who was in the apartment. Francis's face bloomed red as soon as he recognized her, and Mary was confused.
"Mother." He said with a nod. Mary quickly looked down, and started to pull at her sweatshirt and fidget with the keys. Francis pulled her with him into the room. "What are you doing here?" Then, Catherine de Medici was regal, and although not tall, her frame seemed to fill their tiny apartment. She approached Francis and delicately kissed his cheeks.
"Hello darling." She glanced quickly at Mary, and Francis already saw her look of disgust.
"Mother, this is Mary." Francis said with a smile, leaving his hand on her waist. Catherine merely looked her up and down and refused Mary's outstretched hand. She turned to walk back to their living room. Francis sent Mary a reassuring glance and pulled her with him into the living room. "Mother, what are you doing here? How did you get in?" Catherine sat on their old coach and folded her hands delicately in her lip.
"Well, you stopped cashing my checks." She said simply. "I wondered how you were able to afford such a…hovel." She said pursing her lips.
"I-" he started, straightening his back. "We, Mary and I, decided we better pay for it together since we were living here together."
"Is that so?" Catherine asked. She flicked her eyes to Mary, who had been studying Catherine's reaction for quite some time. Mary had never met Catherine, and now she understood why Francis truly never wanted her to. "Living in sin?" Catherine asked raising her eyebrows.
"It isn't like that Mother." Francis said. Mary excused herself to the kitchen thinking maybe it would be good to get some water for everyone. Francis took a deep breath and sat down close to his mother. "Mother, we love each other. It made sense to be together." Catherine could see the twinkle in her son's eye, one she had seen before, another woman, a previous mistake. She smiled, but it was out of pity for his warm heart.
"Love? You're nineteen." She said softly.
"You married father young." She nodded.
"And look how it turned out darling." Catherine said with frown.
"Mother," he laid his hand on hers. "I do love her –"
"What is this?" She picked his hand up noticing the simple gold band. "Francis!" She said quickly, her steely resolve no longer in check. She stood up pulling him with her. "Francis! You didn't!" She raised her voice. Mary returned from around the corner and saw the sight. Catherine in utter panic over a wedding ring. She held the two glasses of water tightly and suddenly felt her stomach become nauseous. "This must be annulled!" Catherine urged. Francis began to argue with her, but she didn't listen. "I won't have you married to someone you barely even know!" She shouted. The glasses dropped from Mary's hand, and it stopped Catherine and Francis's arguing. Mary looked down at the broken glass and felt tears start. Things were silent for a moment, before Francis was at her side.
"Mary?" He asked gently.
"I just…I just…they dropped." She barely spoke.
"It's okay." He said softly. "We'll clean it up."
"Oh my God." Catherine muttered rolling her eyes. Francis sent her a look.
"Mary, I'll take care of this, okay?" Mary nodded. He brushed her tears away. "It's fine." He assured her. "Go lie down," He told her. She did as he asked and disappeared into their bedroom.
Present Day
Mary wondered if perhaps she should have stood up to Catherine that day. Maybe it would have made a difference. It certainly didn't stop Catherine from contacting Marie de Guise, Mary's mother, and plotting with her. The two women only made her and Francis's life miserable in their efforts to tear them a part. It didn't matter to Catherine that her son had found a girl of good fortune and wealth too, one who was of equal status. To Catherine, no one should be married to her son that she didn't already approve and possibly even choose for him. As for Marie, a nineteen year old French boy was too much. She looked past his wealth, even though it did cross her mind that it may be a good match, and instead only thought that her daughter was too young and too impressionable for her to be married.
"We're here." Francis's voice was barely audible as he stared out the tinted windows of the limo at his mother's palatial estate. "Mary, please, I know we're…"
"I know. Don't worry." She read his mind, knowing full well they had to convince his mother of their renewed relationship. "I can do my job." She took a deep breath and followed him out of the limo. "So this is where you grew up." She sighed out staring at the French chateau. He grabbed her hand and she followed him up the wide staircase.
They were greeted inside by Francis's two younger brothers, Charles and Henry, twenty and eighteen respectively. Mary found them both welcoming and comedic as they took their time kissing her cheek and congratulating their brother on such a great find. It was Catherine who stood firm in the foyer after she walked up that Mary felt the chill. Ice. Always like ice.
"You've got to be kidding me." She said with a smirk. She walked toward her son and Mary, and Mary felt Francis grab her hand. "Is this déjà vu? Have I not already been down this road?"
Francis leaned in and kissed his mother's cheek. "Yes, mother, but that was years ago when you broke into my apartment." Catherine chuckled, not goodheartedly. She stood back and examined Mary.
"Didn't I get rid of you already?" Mary pursed her lips.
"Mom!" Charles said in disbelief. Catherine put her hand up.
"Unfortunately, it doesn't look that way Catherine." Mary responded. Catherine sighed dramatically.
"I see you also found your voice."
"I'm not the same girl I was ten years ago." Catherine studied her. She clearly was not. They followed Catherine into the living room and waited for tea to arrive. Catherine could barely contain her irritation at the situation itself.
"Mom," Francis started. "I, we, we wanted to come speak with you before we go to Narcisse's party this evening." Francis looked over at Mary. "We didn't want there to be any surprises.
"As if this isn't surprise enough Francis." Catherine argued. "Really? The two of you just couldn't stay away from each other? And what exactly does your mother think about this Mary?"
"Well, she's dead. So her opinion no longer matters and frankly neither does yours Catherine." Francis started to speak, but Mary stopped him. "Francis is helping me with the business and if we should decide to stay together then we will, it is not your decision." Catherine nodded slowly as if weighing her options before beginning her counter attack.
"Mother, there is something we ought to tell you though." He looked over at Mary. "We are still married." He waited for her response, for the ball to drop, a glass to shatter, but Catherine just stared at him. "I mean to say that we never did get divorced." She started to laugh as if this was some cruel joke that her son was playing on her. "Mother, I'm telling you the truth." Catherine dropped her napkin furiously on the couch and stood up.
"Do you mean to tell me all of these years you have lied to me about your relationship to Mary?" She asked finally raising her voice. Francis nodded. "How could you possibly have gotten away with it? Deceive me?"
"Our lawyer just relayed false information." Mary said. Catherine held her head in her hands and began to pace.
"Well, I do give you more credit than I did ten years ago." She spat out. Francis stood up and went to his mother.
"Mother, I loved her then. I told you that and I made this decision in order to hope we could stay together."
"And do you love her now?" Catherine asked angrily. Francis swallowed.
"Yes. The fact is that I will always love Mary." Catherine groaned and looked over at Mary.
"What about you?" She asked. Mary closed her eyes for a second. The answer was already in her head, a firm, unwavering yes, but it was scary for her to admit it, to allow for their love to hurt her all over again. "Ha!" Catherine shouted. "Your hesitation tells it all!" She looked satisfied. "Pay mind to this Francis. Don't wait for someone who no longer loves you." Francis was hurt, but he forced the feeling away knowing that he couldn't let his mother see.
"It doesn't matter Mother." He said quickly. He looked at Mary. "She does love me." He said matter of factly. "You do. But you're afraid and I know it." Mary watched him, begging her tears to not fall, begging him to stop. "But I promise you, and I know my promises don't hold much weight anymore, but I will promise anyways, that I will prove to you that we're worth staying together." Mary nodded accepting his words, wondering if they were true or part of their game. Somewhere in the midst with Catherine she had lost all sense of reality, but Francis was pulling her back.
"How heartwarming." Catherine said snidely. "When will the two of you give it a rest?" She asked. Mary stood.
"Catherine just stop. You give it a rest. Can't you even see through this stupid fog of being in control that your son is actually in love? He deserves to be in love." Francis watched Mary, his heart mending itself. He had heard her say that before, once when they were fighting yet again about the solution to the divorce. She had yelled at him after throwing the dollar store dishes she was trying to set the table with. He remembered the way she grabbed his shirt and shook him with all of her might, telling him that he deserved to love and be loved by her. Only her, she had said. Because, according to her then, she would be the only girl to ever love him completely.
"Francis let's go!" Mary called for him. He broke from his memory and saw her leaving the room, his mother watching him. He quickly said goodbye and followed her out.
She was in the limo trying to fix her make-up when he got in. "God, your mother certainly hasn't changed. Just as menacing as ever." Mary huffed. She looked at herself in her compact mirror and assessed the damage.
"Mary," Francis began softly. "I meant what I said." She didn't flinch, she just keep looking into her mirror. He laid his hand on her thigh and she flinched, pulling her leg away. "I did mean it." She stopped looking at him, knowing just from his eyes that he did love her, that he was telling the truth.
"I know." She looked away. "But I can't think about it now Francis. It's disrupting my concentration." She turned away from him. "I need to be on my game for the party."
