Replies to reviews:

Guest (1) [chapter 68]: Yes, Robin is so savage! I can imagine people putting their hands up when he asked who hadn't done that thing and then slowly put them down when they realise that actually, they had! The traitor thing was too savage, his favourite aunt and godmother, Mary wouldn't have liked that as well as his poor mother! There's Bash who defends their honour, haha.

Guest (2) [chapter 68]: Thanks! Here's more.

Guest (3) [chapter 68]: Omg, I need that too. I'm thinking of ways to switch things up for Frary time. Yes, Robin does slay and is a savage boy, haha!

FeliLuna13 [chapter 68]: It's fine! I hope you're well and safe! Yeah, I was going to have Mary name the baby just after Catherine because I was thinking Kenna would want to pay homage to the girl who died in her place but I thought more about it and had her name her newborn daughter after her 'dead' dad and victorious uncle. Mary at this point refused to name all her daughters 'Mary' and 'Marie' haha. You must have been mindreading me, haha! I had names picked for all the children before I started this! It will be a while until Bash decides to investigate more into his mother's death. Robin only knows how but not who did the crime but there will be Bash/Catherine moments to come when he finds out the truth and there will be a lot of mixed feelings for Bash as he loved his mother but hated her for killing his youngest half-sisters. Leith and Claude will be coming up in the next chapter as Leith struggles to come to grip with his new life. Leeza and her girls are TBD, I have some works for their snippets in the chapter and they will tie into the de Poitierses lives as Claude once was. Regarding Mary's acceptance with Francis ruling Scotland, in the next chapter, her visitor will give her food for thought on that. I'm glad you are! Enjoy this chapter!


"Francis?"

"I'm still here," he mumbled softly, turning to stare into his wife's wide, teary brown eyes. "I'm still here." He cupped her cheek, brushing a tear away. "Tell me about Anne."

Mary sniffled. "She's outside, enjoying the fresh air."

"Good. She's been low of late. The fresh air will do wonders," Francis replied gently. "And James? How is he?"

"He doesn't know why he can't play with his papa," Mary told him shakily. "Catherine is taking his attention elsewhere."

"Make sure his rooms are cleaned-"

"I know."

"Protect him-"

"I know," Mary breathed out, tears spilling from her eyes. "And I will protect John, Joseph and Peter too. They are all safe. They are taking their studies seriously. They will grow to be great men, like their father."

Francis brushed his thumb over Mary's lips. "As determined and headstrong as their mother... How about my Sweet Rose? Did she enjoy her gift?"

Mary laughed softly, nodding. "You were right, roses all over her bedchambers was a beautiful sight to see. I had the one on her bed set in glass. The one you kissed. Rose represents love, concentration, balance and passion."

"Her mother's daughter."

Mary blushed furiously. "For Anne, the orchid. Love, luxury, beauty and strength."

Francis gave her a soft smile. "She does have a taste for the finer things. The epitome of a royal princess. Who is strong and will be a strong queen for a strong king."

Mary laid her head on his chest and he managed to catch her lips in a kiss before she rested her head. Her fingers played with the exposed blonde wisps of hair on his chest and she dug her face into his chest.

"Don't leave me, Francis. Caterina is not even a year old..."

"Ah, how can I forget Caterina?" Francis breathed out in wonder. "Seeing her first steps brought joy to my heart. I hate to miss more firsts with her. With any of them but..."

Mary looked up at him. "I can't lose you, my love. Fight this. Fight for us, for our children... Fight for you." She shut her eyes.

Francis swallowed hard. "Crysanthemum for my youngest daughter. Fidelity, joy and long life..."

Mary could hear his heart rate slowing down and she began to sob when it completely stopped. She gripped onto his shirt tightly and her sobs became gasping hiccups when the door opened and Catherine appeared, heartbroken.

"He's gone," Mary confirmed her suspicions. "Long live the king..."

...

Robin's eyes snapped open and he sat up in his bed. It was quite big for a bastard's son but he was the nephew of a king and if he was honest, the bed wasn't as big as the one he had in Avon. In Avon, his parents and siblings could probably have a sleepover.

Tears sprung to his eyes and he brought a hand to his head in confusion and fear. He'd never got a vision into the future before. If it was even the future. It was always the past and the past involved his parents at most. Snippets into the other adults' lives were through his mother and father.

He got out of his bed, discarding the fur covers onto the ground as he walked to his window and saw that it was early morn. He strained his ears, hearing the soft murmur of his father's voice coming from his younger sister's bedchambers that were linked to his. Alexander was on her other side and their youngest sister was housed with their parents. It was a large apartment, fit for the half-brother of a king.

He quietly padded barefooted to the door that linked his and Ana's bedchambers and slowly opened the door to see Bash on the ground, almost falling asleep as Ana played dolls with him.

"...Pippa saves the king-"

"Papa, this," she started, grabbing a slightly brown-haired doll and taking the dark blonde one from his hand. "Is Pippa. This one is Leila."

Bash's eyes slowly opened and he studied the dolls. "They're exactly the same."

"Their hairs are different!"

"You mean hairbands," Bash stated. "Or is my sight not as sharp as it used to be?"

Ana turned to him. "You're going blind, Papa. One must deal with that appropriately."

Bash gawped. He wasn't! "And how do you know what 'appropriately' means?" He completely disregarded her saying he was going blind. He wasn't old!

"Mama always tells us to dress as so," Ana explained.

Bash chuckled. "Well then, my darling daughter, I do apologise," he said, taking the second doll. "Pippa saves the king-"

"Here," Ana said, stuffing one of the identical three male dolls into his hand. "The king."

"The king, Bastian," he finally finished. "Can we change his name?"

Ana glared at him and Bash immediately backed down. She was her mother's daughter through and through. So condescending and stubborn. Oh, and too mouthy for her age.

"You are letting a six-year-old dominate you, Father?" Robin asked, finally making his presence known.

"What are you do up so early, Robin?" Bash asked, concerned.

Robin smirked. "Says the man playing dolls with a headstrong six-year-old."

"Shut up, Robert," Ana said sharply, reaching a doll towards her older brother. "Sit down and join us. We will have a tea party after."

"Just go with it," Bash mockingly whispered.

"She's just like Mama," Robin muttered, sitting down on the carpeted ground on Ana's other side.

"You're the prince! The king's brother, Jasper."

Robin scoffed. "Let me guess, he falls in love with the king's true love?"

Bash warily eyed him. "Ana, I'm sure your fever has broken. If you are making jibes at us, you must be back to normal by now."

Ana shook her head, taking his free hand to her forehead. "I'm still sick, see?!"

"What is this about, Ana?" Bash asked her softly.

Ana sniffled, placing the dolls down. "I-"

The three turned to the open door where the sound of a baby crying disturbed them. Bash got up, ruffling his eldest two's hair before going to retrieve the baby before she woke the whole castle up.

He returned, the baby swaddled in his arms as he settled himself in the rocking chair by the fireplace. Sophia hates the movement, her whimpers making Ana's face fall even more.

"Why did they have another baby?" She asked Robin quietly.

Robin turned to her in surprise. "I don't think she was planned but if God wills it, they must accept."

"If it's not you, Xander or Mama, Papa spends time with Sophia. I don't matter anymore."

Robin sighed heavily. Here he was, wanting to talk to his father about his dream or vision, whatever it was and his sister had feigned illness early in the morning to catch a moment of her beloved father's time.

"Father?" He called Bash.

Bash didn't bother looking up from consoling Sophia. "Robert."

"Let me take Sophia," Robin told him, getting up with his arms open. "I can't sleep so I will stay up and settle her. Perhaps you could read Ana a story? I don't think any of us can handle another moment trying to remember identical dolls' names."

Bash chuckled and nodded, placing the still fussing baby into her older brother's arms. "You're a natural. One day you will be a father. You would do anything to protect them. They will become your life, the reason you breathe and you would enjoy every moment of it."

"I'll go to the nursery," Robin said quietly, rocking the baby in his arms. "I'll speak to you later."

He left the bedchamber for the nursery and he crept past his sleeping mother on the bed. He settled himself on the chaise and cooed Sophia back to sleep. His mind wandered to his dream.

If his dream was real, he had roughly ten months to prevent it.

...

Francis chuckled when he felt his wife's hand make its way down his chest. "For once, I'm tired."

"Oh, pity," Mary replied teasingly, her hand going even further down.

He let out a groan of pain and Mary shot up, pulling the sheets back to see his bruised side. "It's nothing to be worried about. I fell out of bed the morning you went to tend to Caterina."

Mary tutted. "Francis, you ought to be more careful. I will call Nostradamus to see if he has anything for that."

She got out of the bed and put her robe on. She gave him a warm smile, promising to return as soon as possible.

When the door closed behind her, Francis sat up. He felt something drip down his neck and he brought a hand to his ear, feeling a warm liquid. He brought it to his eyesight and saw blood.

He quickly cleaned himself up and when he was done by the washbasin, the door opened to reveal Mary and Nostradamus.

"Your Majesty, the Queen said-"

"I'm fine," Francis quickly said. "A bit breathless but fine."

Nostradamus politely asked Mary for some privacy and she tentatively obliged, citing that she'd visit the children and wake them up for the day.

"We have known each other for as long as you have lived," Nostradamus said, his greying hair covering his left eye. "Whatever that is spoken between us will be kept between us."

Francis swallowed hard. "I think I'm dying Nostradamus."

"Then we must do all we can to stop that."

...

"Good morning, little one!" Rose cooed, lifting her baby sister into her arms. "Shall we go and find the wetnurse? Yes, we shall!"

Anne smiled warmly as she entered the nursery. "Looks like someone beat me to it. I was going to wake her up for her feed."

"I am so happy Mama and Papa had another daughter," Rose replied, beaming. "She's ever so sweet and she smells amazing."

"She probably has more baths than us," Anne said as they waited for the wetnurse to come to them.

The sisters settled on the carpet, making faces at Caterina and brushing her soft hair back gently. They shared a warm smile, Rose leaning her head on Anne's shoulder.

"I can't wait until I become a mother," Anne said softly. "Babies are the best. When they're girls, of course."

Rose giggled. "I wouldn't mind a son. Sons are very powerful so we shouldn't rule them out."

"I hope that Little Cat will marry a king and be a queen of her own standing. Perhaps when he dies, she will be queen regnant, not dowager queen," Anne said, studying the baby's wide eyes as her mouth searched for food. "One day, Rosie, a queen will have complete power from her birthright. Although Mother is a queen of her own standing, we can't deny that Father's far more superior."

"That day would be beautiful and work will get done quicker and easier," Rose replied. "Men - who actually needs them?"

The girls giggled, gasping with wide eyes when Caterina gave them a ghost of a smile. But they will later realise that the baby had passed wind. They will still giggle and say how unladylike it was.

...

Francis grinned when he heard giggling coming from the nursery. He entered and found all three of his daughters on the ground, the eldest two making inside joke after inside joke and the baby just searching far and wide for breakfast in the form of breastmilk.

"Now, what do we have here?"

"Papa!" Anne and Rose cried out.

"Three beautiful princesses going about their morning," Francis continued, taking a seat before them. "Giggling as if the world depends on it."

Anne snorted. "Cat passed wind."

Francis groaned dramatically. "I remember when you both were little. Rose had passed wind and Anne, you couldn't stop wafting your nose, screaming that it 'smol bad!'."

"Wasn't I three?"

"You were and very judgemental even then," Francis replied teasingly. "For the longest of times, 'bad' and 'no' were your favourite words."

"As so should be," Anne replied.

Rose giggled, smacking her sister's arm lightly. "Papa, tell us more stories when we were little!"

"Well, Anne refused to drink milk once after a visit to Avon and a farmer showed us how to milk a cow," Francis told them. "But that contradicted what she said because she still loved a cup of warm milk every night and your mother's breasts."

"Father!" Anne cried out, blushing. "I am a woman now."

Francis held a hand to his mock wounded chest. "My girls are growing up so quickly. Gone are the days I look down at them from a great distance! Now, one surpasses their mother. Dear Lord, help me."

"So dramatic," Rose said, laughing. "We're still your little girls."

Francis beamed. "How about a horse ride by the lake? We could even skate."

"Right now?" Rose asked him.

He nodded. "Yes, right now. Are you both up for one?"

The girls shared a glance. "It's a plan."

...

A horse ride with his daughters ended up being with his daughters and three youngest sons. Mary had spent the first half with them, Caterina in her arms before she returned with the baby to welcome a visitor from Scotland.

Now, Francis watched as the children played in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other. He smiled, tears stinging his eyes as the reminder that every day was a gift because of his declining health.

Nostradamus was working day and night. His father's former doctor, Ambroise Paré was being sourced down by the seer as well. Francis couldn't tell anyone, not his darling wife, his loyal brother or his overprotective mother. Even his sisters couldn't know - Claude was planning her wedding and Leeza was spending time with her daughters, more now than ever.

Peter ran up to him, handing him a snowball in his gloved hands. His father accepted it and chose his victim.

Anne.

"Father!" She squealed out in horror. "Oh, you are getting it!"

Francis laughed, shielding his face from the attack of snowballs his eldest daughter rained on him. She had her mother's strong throwing skills. He ought to teach them more archery and perhaps swordplay - fencing.

"I yield!" He cried out when one hit his cheek.

"Good!" Anne said, curtseying. "As a king should."

"Anne!" Francis cried out, laughing. "Oskar is in trouble, choosing you as a bride."

Anne smirked. "So he should be."

Rose spluttered, helping James build a defence wall from Anne. Even Joseph and Peter saw her as their playful enemy and attacked her from two sides. Anne burst into laughter, swearing vengeance by grabbing Peter and tickling him.

"Children, it is time to come inside!" Mary's voice called out. "We have a visitor from Scotland. Come along now."

They whined, the girls helping their little brothers get up their horses and Francis slowly got up from the ground, wincing. His eyes met Mary's concerned ones and he gave her a smile, gesturing for her to ride off.

When the others rode ahead, Francis made his way over to his horse and just as he was about to get on it, he saw Robin sitting by the frozen lake.

"Robin?"

Robin froze and slowly turned to him. "Your Maj-"

"We're alone."

"Uncle Francis," Robin said softly. "I heard you all. Did you have fun?"

Francis nodded. "Why are you all alone?"

"Just needed some peace," Robin mumbled as Francis sat beside him. "I've been getting particular dreams..."

"Visions?"

"I don't know."

"How can you tell them apart?"

Robin shrugged. "The hues, I guess. The past - my parents', they're orange or red and I get a sinking feeling in my stomach at times. Normal dreams have none and well, the recent ones are blue and purple and I feel like I can't breathe."

"Have you told Nostradamus?"

"Not yet. I'm afraid of what he will say."

"Or confirm for you," Francis said knowingly. "Can you speak to your father about it?"

Robin shook his head adamantly. "No. Not about this one."

Francis looked around. "Well, I am here. We can talk about it now."

Robin bowed his head and pressed his palms into his eyes. "Not with you."

"Oh."

"I... I don't know who to tell."

"Your mother? Kenna will understand and she will tell Bash and relay-"

"No."

"Robin, whatever it is, I am sure it will be fine," Francis said before he paused. "Or is it someone's... death?"

Robin swallowed hard, lifted his head and nodded, teary-eyed. "If it is true, I possess the power to tell them and prevent it right? But everything happens for a reason and if I disturb the sequence, they could die another way and... Everyone would be..."

"Robin, do you know of the prophecy my wife was obsessed over?"

Robin nodded sadly. "A bit. She almost married my father because of it."

"That prophecy said I was to die," Francis said. "Die childless. But look, here I am. I am breathing," he swallowed hard. Not for long. "I have seven children, I rule flourishing countries... The prophecy that Nostradamus saw changed. And whatever you saw, we can prevent it. Or at least give it a good try."

Robin's face fell and he gave Francis a sad smile. "You die."

Francis felt the ice on his cheeks bite. His whole body ran cold.

The boy's smile disappeared completely and he let out sobs, wishing he couldn't see the future, past or anything. He said his father was right, he wanted to be normal. He couldn't handle knowing what he could. He wasn't ready to find out how the people he loved died, when and how.

"H-How long do I... have?"

"Ten months, give or take," Robin said softly. "Uncle Francis, you mustn't die. But if you did..."

Francis turned to him in shock. "What do you know?"

"Can I show you something?"

Francis nodded. "Yes."

They got up and Robin wielded his bow and arrow. They spent a while walking around until they saw a family of wild foxes.

"They have been killing the chickens," Francis said when Robin readied a shot to the smallest one. "Be..."

Robin turned to him and nodded. "Forgive me, Father, these souls are yours to take but for my part, I must do this."

He didn't even leave Francis's gaze as he let go and the arrow hit something, making it fall onto the blanket of snow beneath it. Blood seeped through quickly and Robin saw the damage he did.

The chest was still rising up and down, and Robin slowly walked up to it, the baby abandoned by its family a few yards away, watching the people with fearful eyes. The fox stopped moving.

Robin waved Francis over and the boy closed his eyes and began his ritual.

Francis watched on with wide eyes and when it was complete, they heard a soft thud behind them and saw the biggest fox lying still on the snow. They returned their gazes to the wounded one and saw it alive and breathing again, standing up and nuzzling its nose into Robin's waiting hand.

"By God, you..."

Robin nodded. "I don't know the risks. I tried it twice before this time. One animal, one person - my mother."

Francis furrowed his brows. He had noticed his brother and Kenna acting rather clingy than usual. They were always independent souls but their near-deaths or death rather had brought them closer to each other to the point that Francis could practically see them itching to run away to be alone.

"The afterbirth killed her on Christmas Day. I brought her back to life - I had lost Father, I couldn't lose her too," Robin quickly said. "Then, my aunt, her sister, died."

Francis couldn't let someone die in his place. He knew about the woman in the woods, the witch. His brother had seldom drunk himself inebriated and spilt the tales that kept him awake.

"Robin, do you want this?"

"I'm not so sure anymore," Robin confessed. "As I said, how can I bear knowing what I know and not being able to stop it?"

Francis hugged him tightly. "You will be alright. Thank you for giving me time so I know how to go about this."

The fox nestled itself on Robin's knees.

"I think we're taking this one home with us," Francis said, the both of them chuckling. "Name her."

Robin grinned. "Hope."

"Hello, Hope," Francis mumbled, lifting the fox into his arms as they got up. "Let's hope we live up to your name."


I had this idea after reading a bunch of other fics. Don't sue or kill me, I have a plan as always!