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Author's Note: I own no claim over anything but the story line, and realize I am taking a great liberty with history (but that's what fanfic is for, right!) =) And yes, in case you were wondering, the title of this story is in reference to the wonderful 1966 movie starring Paul Scofield as Sir Thomas More.
Chapter 21 Music: Time After Time by Cyndi Lauper
Sometimes you picture me - I'm walking too far ahead
You're calling to me, I can't hear
What you've said -
Then you say - go slow - I fall behind -
The second hand unwinds
If you're lost you can look - and you will find me
Time after time
If you fall I will catch you - I'll be waiting
Time after time
The guard's words echoed around Mary's ears. The King is dead. Sebastian remained still, and hidden, under the covers at the foot of her bed. The guard stood there, awaiting a response from Mary, who was speechless. She shook her head lightly.
"Oh my." She whispered, coming to her senses. "Yes, thank you for this unfortunate news. Is Francis with him?"
"Yes, Your Grace." Mary nodded, moving towards the edge of the bed.
"Please tell him I will be there as soon as I am dressed."
"Yes, Your Grace." The guard bowed his head, clicking his heels before turning to leave. Mary saw him hesitate, before glancing back towards her. "Long live King Francis and Queen Mary."
And with those words, he was gone, closing Mary's chamber door behind him. Mary let out a staggered breath, rustling the covers to find Sebastian. Through blurry tears, she waited for Sebastian's reaction. Henry's death was not as hard on her as it would be on Sebastian, as Henry was his father. While Mary looked for sadness, or grief in his eyes, all she saw was love. Wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she knew he would grieve in his own time, in his own way. He held her body gently as together they faced the gravity of the situation. Mary was now Queen of France, and Francis was King.
King.
France laid in the hand's of his brother, and Sebastian was not sure if the idea thrilled him, or frightened him. One item that did frighten him was the outcome of his relationship with Mary. He promised her they could still be together, though discretion would be the better part of valor in this case. He took care to rub calming circles on Mary's back, delaying her dressing on propose. In the moment, he tried to exude strength for her, knowing she would need every ounce of it, especially now. Mary relaxed against him, momentarily forgetting there was somewhere she needed to be. Sebastian felt her muscles tense beneath his fingers, and she gasped softly. Angling his head, he saw her brows furrowed together.
"Mary, is something wrong?" He became worried when Mary did not immediately respond, but then she turned her head, smiling sweetly.
"No, I am fine. I need to get dressed and see Francis, for it is my duty."
Grabbing his trousers from beneath the bed, Sebastian followed Mary, doing the best he could to help her into her dress and lace the backing loosely. Placing her hand gently on her belly, she felt her muscles tighten beneath her fingers, her heart racing slightly. She knew all the stress could not be good for her and her son. With concern written all over his face, Sebastian grasped Mary's arms gently.
"Are you sure you do not want to lie back down? You can see Francis in the morning." He whispered.
"No, I promise I am fine, Bash. I will rest after I visit with Francis." She paused, eying her lover tiredly. "Are you not saddened by your father's death?" His head drooped ashamedly, but he chanced to meet her gaze again.
"Of course I am, Mary. He may not have been the best father, but he was the only father I will ever have." He stopped, covering his eyes briefly with his hand. When he eventually dropped his fingers, Mary saw the moisture that threatened to spill forth. "I have not lost anyone close to me before, so I really do not know how to properly grieve. Besides, my true family is standing in front of me right now." His fingers brushed gently over Mary's cheek, and she sighed contentedly.
"I guess I shall go then? You probably need to head back to your chambers, in case Francis sends another guard to tell you the news."
He bent gently to kiss her, her lips having mastered moving precisely with his. She watched as Sebastian moved to the secret doorway, disappearing within the darkness. Mary pulled her chamber door open, stopping to grasp the handle as she felt the tightness around her belly once more. I promise to rest shortly, my son, she thought. As the sensation faded, Mary carefully waddled toward Nostradamus' workroom, anxious to offer her condolences to her husband.
Upon arriving at Nostradamus' workroom, Mary noted the somber atmosphere surrounding her. Henry laid atop a table, pale and stiff. Nostradamus and Lola had done a tremendous job of cleaning the King's wound, so he would be presentable for family viewing. Diane sat in a corner, distraught but not uncivilized. What Mary did think was strange was the lack of presence of Queen Catherine. Though locked away for her treasonous plots, Mary still assumed Francis would let her pay her final respects to her dead husband.
"Mary, thank you for coming, sweetheart." The term of endearment struck Mary as odd, but she quickly forgot it as she noted Francis' appearance. His face was haggard, purple bruises highlighting his eyes. The weight of France now weighed heavily on his shoulders, and he looked as though he had been carrying the weight for years, instead of minutes.
"I am sorry it took me so long." Mary replied, reaching for his hand. He kissed her quickly, but Mary could still taste the lingering salt from his earlier tears.
"You came as soon as you could, and I am grateful." Sorrow was etched across his young features, and part of Mary yearned for easier days that were now long since past.
"I am so sorry, Francis." Mary gently cupped his cheek with one hand, such affection they had not shared in a long time. He covered her hand with his own, a sad sort of smile covering his face.
"Thank you." Pausing, his eyes searched the faces gathered around them. "Did you happen to see Bash on your way here?"
"No, I did not see him. Has be not been by yet?" Mary feigned curiosity, knowing full well Sebastian had not been by yet, for he had spent the evening hours with her. "Well, I am sure he is on his way." Mary replied quietly. Grasping his hand, Mary stood with Francis in silence. She had gotten used to the tightening feeling across her belly, so when it happened again, amidst the silence, she squeezed Francis' hand in surprised response.
"Are you alright, Mary?"
"Yes, I just need to sit down."
"Here is a chair, Mary." Sebastian appeared in the doorway, just in time to retrieve a chair, carrying it over behind Mary. She sat quickly, gripping the arm handles. The brother's embraced briefly, before Sebastian moved to comfort his mother, who eagerly accepted his open arms, clinging helplessly to him.
"Have you let your mother come visit?" Mary asked of Francis, who stood anxiously by her chair. "Supervised, of course?"
"I thought about it, especially for young Charles and Henry's sake." He replied sadly, reaching a steadying hand for Mary's shoulder.
They continued in silence for a few moments, Diane's quiet sobs the only sound within the room. Francis finally acknowledged to Mary he would allow Catherine a supervised visit before the grand state funeral already being planned for the following week. Though Mary vehemently disliked Catherine for the many things she had done, especially her attempt on Sebastian's life, part of her also realized the civility in allowing Catherine to pay her respects to her late husband, for in knowing that though Catherine might never fully face her wrath, she would eventually face God's, and his wrath was great.
"Mary, darling, I think you should go rest." Francis spoke quietly, bringing Mary slowly away from her thoughts. She faced her tired husband, noting, still, the exhaustion evident there.
"I will, Francis, and you should do the same." Mary bid goodnight to Diane, Nostradamus, and Lola. Her eyes held Sebastian's for a moment, and he nodded in understanding and thanks. Francis followed her out of the room, but as Mary turned to head towards her chambers, Francis kept walking.
"Are you not going to bed, Francis?" Mary asked curiously as he made his way toward the castle entrance. He slowed, and turned towards her. He looked as though he had suffered a great defeat.
"I think I shall take a brief walk."
"At this hour, Francis? Really, it looks like it might rain." Mary complained, feeling uneasy with Francis' worn appearance. He needed rest, and as the France's new King, he had to be in his best shape.
"Just a short walk, I promise." Mary nodded okay, and watched as his figure disappeared through the oaken castle doors. She felt the uneasiness return, not understanding why. As she continued toward her chambers, she remembered his sudden use of endearments towards her. He had said 'sweetheart' and 'darling', words reminiscent of their honeymoon days, and not now. She recalled the hint of sadness in his eyes when he asked her if she knew Sebastian had been in Scotland the whole time. Though Mary had accepted his indifference many months ago, she wondered if Francis was now missing what they used to have. No matter, Mary thought, what is done is done.
"Mary?" Sebastian called lightly down the hall behind her, infinitely lifting her spirits from her dampened mood. "Do you need any assistance back to your chambers?"
"Thank you, Bash, but I am quite alright. Please be with your mother. She needs her son right now." Smiling sweetly at Sebastian, Mary took his hand lightly, holding it firmly in her own. He inched closer, his words whispered in the semi-darkened hallway.
"Shall I come by later?" He inquired, watching Mary's face for her response. She nodded, winking quickly to lighten the mood. He did not laugh outwardly, but his smile and his eyes carried the emotion. Mary was almost to her chamber doorway as she watched Bash disappear in the other direction. Pulling on her heavy wooden door, Mary stopped as the tightening sensation gripped her belly again, more strongly and painfully than before. Mary gasped, holding her belly as if she could still the feeling.
As the feeling subsided, Mary eased her tired body over to her bed, not bothering to change out of her dress as she laid upon the covers. So much had changed for her within such a few hours. King Henry was dead. Francis was now King in name, just as Mary was Queen. Their coronation would need to be scheduled soon, and Mary hoped it could wait until after her son was born.
Exhaustion was talking over her body, and Mary succumbed easily to a dreamless sleep, listening briefly to the summer rain outside.
Gasping, Mary jolted awake, shocked by the pain across her belly.
"Mary?" Lola asked, sitting up from her position on the chaise lounge. She noted the way Mary held her belly, and moved quickly across the room to her friend. "What are you feeling?"
"It feels like everything tightens at once." Mary paused, her hand calming rubbing a circle across her stomach. "But there has been increasing amounts of pain with each one."
"Each one? Mary, how long has this been going on?" Concern etched across Lola's features.
"Since last night, not long after we received word that the King had passed." Lola helped Mary to lay back down, politely assessing Mary's condition. "Lola, why were you sleeping on the lounge?"
"Bash asked me to check on you. He needed to stay with his mother tonight." Mary nodded, loving Sebastian even more for his thoughtfulness.
Cringing, Mary closed her eyes as the pain crept along her belly once more. Lola watched Mary's face, before she rushed from the bed, searching for her gown.
"Where are you going?" Mary asked, panic rising in her voice, as it did throughout her whole body. Worry tickled on her brain, for she noted Lola was moving as if her life depended on it.
"I am going to fetch Agnes, the midwife. I think you are in labor." Mary's eyes widened, confused. Would not I be able to tell if I was in labor? She thought. As if reading her friend's mind, Lola continued. "Do not worry, Mary. It is difficult to understand what is going on when it is your first child."
"Someone needs to tell Francis and Sebastian." Mary pleaded, her words rushed as tried to calm her racing heart.
"I will see to it, now relax. I have heard it helps babies come faster if you are more relaxed."
Mary watched as Lola left the room in a flurry. Sinking back on the bed, Mary closed her eyes, and tried taking deep breaths.
Just a short time later, Lola returned with Agnes. She helped Mary up, changing her into a much more lightweight and comfortable gown. A gown that was suitable for birthing.
"Greer has been looking for Francis, and Aylee found Bash. He is helping look for Francis." Barely hearing her words, Mary held on to Lola as the pain mounted again.
"My dear, let us lie you down and see how soon this child will greet us." Agnes' hands were cold as she moved gently between Mary's legs, pushing and prodding with hands that had done this many times before.
"It should not be long now, Your Grace. Maybe a few more hours." Agnes smoothed Mary's dress back over her legs, moving to wash her hand in a basin on Mary's nightstand. "The pain will become worse as we progress, but it is all part of the process."
Mary sighed dramatically. A few more hours? She thought. I need Bash here with me.
"Lola?" Greer appeared in the doorway, beckoning her over to the hall. Lola noted Mary had closed her eyes, and she hoped her Queen would be able to rest before the hardest part of labor began.
"Did you find Francis?" Lola asked.
"Yes." Greer whispered. "Apparently he stayed out in the rain. Bash found him unconscious. He took him to Nostradamus." Lola knew they could not tell this news to Mary, for she would worry terribly. "Okay, I will tell Mary that Bash and Aylee found Francis drunk, and he is sleeping it off. She does not need to be concerned with this news yet."
"Alright." Greer agreed. "What else do I need to do?"
"Fetch Bash, and quickly."
It was not five minutes when Bash appeared through the secret passageway. Agnes started to protest a man's presence during birth, but Mary quickly let her know she wanted him there.
"I am your Queen, and he will stay." Even through the pain Mary looked regal. "You will not mention he was here, and no questions."
"Yes, Your Grace." Agnes bowed slightly, before continuing her work on checking Mary. "If you plan on staying, please make yourself useful." Agnes pointed at Bash directly. "Take those wretched boots off, and sit behind our Queen. Let her rest against you, for she will need all the physical support she can get shortly."
Bash nodded, discarding his boots, and sliding in behind Mary. Mary eagerly grabbed his hands as they wrapped around her sides, and groaned and she rested her back against his chest.
"Are you alright, Mary?" He asked gently, noting the sweat on her brow.
"I am terribly uncomfortable, and more than ready to be done with this." She said through gritted teeth, squeezing his hands for comfort through the increasing pain. Sebastian chuckled, kissing her temple.
The labor pains were coming faster and more painfully now for Mary. With each pain, she arched against Sebastian, pulling at his hands and groaning. He never felt more helpless, realizing he was the reason she was experiencing this pain.
Things remained status quo for the next hour. Mary rolled her eyes at Lola when she said Francis was passed out drunk. But it did not matter to Mary, for Bash was there, being the most supportive person in the room.
With the next pain, Mary let out a whimpered scream, and Bash held her as best he could.
"You are such a strong woman, Mary. I am so proud of you."
Mary mumbled incoherently while Agnes checked on her progress.
"My Queen, it is time to push."
"Push what?" Mary exclaimed, exasperated.
"Well, push like you are using the privy." Agnes said simply. Mary groaned in frustration. Sebastian blushed a little, and Agnes laughed at the pair. "It is truly the best way to explain it, and trust me, it works. When I tell you to push, you push. Bear down as best you can."
Sebastian kissed her temple again, whispering sweetly to Mary, and she laughed in response. The humor quickly turned sour as the worst pain yet gripped Mary.
"Push, Your Grace, push!" Mary pushed as Agnes told her, finally understanding what other women have told her: this is the hardest thing you will ever do.
"Again, my Queen."
Mary whimpered. "Can she not rest?" Sebastian asked, irritated.
"Once the babe is born. Now push, Your Grace."
It felt like an eternity to Mary, between Agnes constantly telling her to push, and her own pushing. The pain was excruciating. Knowing her bible stories as well as she did, Mary knew the pain of childbirth was a consequence from the Garden of Eden, but as she continued to push, she wondered why did it have to be so painful.
"I see a head! You are almost done, Your Grace. One or two more good pushes." Mary complied, pushing with all her might and pushing the limits on the strength of Sebastian's hands. "That is it, my Queen. One more."
Mary pushed again, feeling the sudden emptiness as the child was born. A newborn's cry filled the air, and Mary could not keep the tears from falling freely.
"You have a healthy son, my Queen." Agnes exclaimed proudly, holding the squirming babe up for Mary to see. Mary laughed, for it was amazing that she and Sebastian created such a beautiful, tiny being. "I will clean him up right quick, and then let you hold him."
Sebastian reached his arms securely around Mary, holding her close. "You are amazing, Mary. I love you so much."
Agnes turned back around, having wiped the baby clean, and swaddled him in clean linen. Mary gasped, immediately reaching for him. "Oh Bash, he is beautiful."
Mary saw Lola from the corner of her eye. She smiled at her friend, and she saw Lola had tears on her face as well. Lola left the room briefly, and as the door opened, Mary could see numerous people in the corridor. The door remained slightly cracked to Mary's chambers, and though exhausted from the delivery, she was awake enough to hear the shouts of joy from those gathered in the halls. She squeezed Sebastian's hand firmly, and together they turned their gaze back to their newborn son.
"Long live the Dauphin!"