In Your Hands

by Catherine Woods

King Henry is going mad! How will Catherine stop him from throwing girls out windows? She will have to place herself in a position she never has before to save them all! What will this mean for their relationship? A what could have happened story. Starts in episode 15 after they get rid of the girl's body. What if Catherine filled Penelope's role? Will be M eventually.

7. Complex Relations

AN: Okay first of all i want to apologize for being gone so long on this story, but i got stuck. Seriously stuck at around 7,000 words so i didn't know where to go, and then this turned out wayyyyy longer then i had ever intended when i picked it up again. I'm not even sure if this is really that good, but i wanted to get it finished and posted. The ending turned out way different then i had first intended as well so...if you don't like it i'm sorry but i just couldn't see it ending another way after i got to a certain point. I want there to be...no i need there to be trust between these two for where i want this story to go, so that was my main reasoning. I have edited, but there still might be mistakes and I refuse to read this whole chapter again in the near future. (I'm really just annoyed at myself for having a writer's block for so long, not the story itself.) I might also need to warn readers that this chapter is very angry and violent and full of adult content and mentions of prior violence. Plus Henry is still insane so...he's unstable to write for which is why some of his mood swings and thoughts in this chapter may seem hasty. I have to admit i love writing him so crazy, but Catherine has to pay the price and try to pick up the pieces and that makes me sad so...confliction rules me in this chapter! You have been warned!

Disclaimer: I don't own Reign nor any characters associated with the show. If i did crazy Henry would have joined us later and had a severe obsession to his Medici wife instead of Penelope.

Steeling the anger coursing through her veins, Catherine walked into the ballroom unaccompanied by her King. She had been irked at Henry for a week for not cancelling the damn Queen of the bean contest. That stupid servant girl was currently seated on the Queen's throne wearing a crown unbefitting one of lowly birth as she stared longingly at the King of France. The pliable young thing…whatever her name was, hadn't even heeded Catherine's warning of not to indulge her Henry's attentions. What was irking the radiant Queen even more than her worry for the girl was the fact that her King, adulterous wretch that he was, had denied having any attraction for his servant Queen! Supposedly all he wanted to do was 'continue the yearly tradition'. Her husband would never understand how degrading it was for Catherine as his Queen, and she had started to worry his interest was waning. She had seen that glimmer in his eye at his new prospect. The little slut had no idea what she was in for. Catherine had thought their carnal relations were feeding his appetite properly as he hadn't had any more incidents with women and windows lately, and he had seemed to be more at ease, but Henry had become a hard man to read, and an even harder one to hold onto since his new…passions had surfaced. If the Queen didn't find some new way of enticing his interests then she feared she would soon be scraping that kitchen whore off of whatever surface Henry decided to have his wicked way with her on.

Catherine's eyes met her King as she ambled through the crowd of drunken Scots. They were a loud bunch: uncouth and raucous in their drink and in the way they grabbed onto the women around them. Ignoring the noise around her and the glare of her husband, she started making her way over to the quietest corner where she saw Lord Narcisse standing back. When had he returned to Court, and why hadn't she been told? She hadn't taken five steps towards the Lord when she felt a hand pull on her wrist. Even though it was a gentle grip she wasn't accustomed to being accosted. Turning around to the man who had grabbed her, she was ready to tell him off when she saw Henry rise from his throne with a dreadfully jealous look in his eye and descend from the dais. Perhaps she could use this?

"Forgive my intrusion, beauty, but how could I let a lovely creature such as yerself get away from me? I thought roses dinnae come out yet, but here's one before my very eyes. It's a lucky lad I be tonight."

Taking a good look at the man in front of her, his accent and his dress told her he was one of the Scots. Typical male: They all thought that a few sweet words would have them buried between her thighs in no time. This one was very lucky she had a use for him tonight, or he would be sobering up in the dungeon for such insolence. No man touched her unless he had a death wish…or was her husband. She could not rightly deny Henry, nor would she ever really want to unless he was overtly rough, and even then she didn't mind too much. He was the only man who had ever stirred such dark imaginings within her heart; imaginings that should never see the light of the moon. Her husband did feel her heart with fear lately though. He was too unpredictable now, and Catherine couldn't figure out why. However there was always time for those musings later…after her husband was more compliant to her.

"Are all Scots as forward as you or am I just privileged this evening?"

Giving the man a wink and a smile, she saw Henry stop moving toward them through the crowd. She was almost sure a frown was on his face as he moved to be able to see their interactions better. Her attention was brought back to the man in front of her when his hand caressed up her arm to her elbow.

"Don't be offended, Milady. I jus' couldn't let the prettiest lass I've seen in France get passed me without saying how delighted I am to be in the presence of the visage of Aphrodite herself. Even the King's eyes were drawn to ye when ye entered. Quite the effect ye have on men there, beauty. Tell me, does yer Queen get a might jealous at her King's eye being drawn away?"

Giving a slight chuckle at the man's boldness, she caressed a hand along his chest, more to keep him at arm's length then to actually feel a strong need to touch him.

"It is taxing to be the Queen's lady. She is quite temperamental with me at times. Any woman would be when one's husband was drawn away to another. I don't encourage him as the others do, of course, but it never seems to help. Kings do love their indulgences after all."

Henry was close enough to hear their conversation now, and her words certainly filled his ears.

"I could do ye a small favor at least for the night, beauty. He won't bother ye with me around. If ye could escape her Majesties company for the evening, that is. We could retire to somewhere more private, and I could learn for meself if yer Aphrodite. I'd like ta wake up beside a beauty like you. Even in the middle of night, I'd wager the sun had come up to greet me."

His hand had caressed down her side to rest on her waist as his fun filled eyes glimmered down at her. Glancing over the handsy Scot's shoulder, she made sure her husband was still watching as she leaned in and whispered.

"The Queen does love the attention of her King. I might be able to slip away soon enough."

Tilting her head back, she smiled at the man in front of her, giving him and her husband a show of her soft, silken neck. She knew from this angle Henry could see every move she made. She could feel his dark eyes bearing down on her as she moved even closer to Liam. This was a dangerous game she had started with her King, but she was sure she could draw him away from that trollop that now strolled towards him. His eyes hadn't left her since she had entered the room, and he wasn't any more than three paces from them. Her confidence fell when her husband turned from her, and pulled the younger woman into his arms. His lips immediately sought out the maid's own pouty, full lips as his hands moved across the slut's body openly. Anxiety showed on Catherine's face when Henry pulled his whore away from the party. What if he killed the girl? She felt sick to her stomach. What if she had prodded him to the point that she had driven him to commit another murder? Excusing herself hastily, she hurried after them knowing he would have headed straight for his rooms.

Henry's blood was boiling as he pulled the girl along behind him. He wasn't going to bed this one, but he was going to use her. Catherine hadn't liked the idea of the servant wearing her crown in the first place, having her position for the day, playing the part of his Queen. He was certain his fast exit and public display would have his wife nipping at his heels. He had seen her watching for his reaction. He was after all the King, her Lord husband, and he knew his wife's intent. Catherine would get more than she had bargained for this night! Pushing Penelope into the wood of the door to his rooms, he fused his lips to hers while he waited for the familiar clicking of heels. He was pleased when only moments later the sound reached his ears. Moaning into the mouth of his latest conquest, one hand went to hold her arms above her head whilst the other went to her throat and gave her a squeeze, hoping this would elicit a reaction from his wife. He wasn't to be disappointed.

When Catherine turned the corner and saw her husband's hand around the young woman's throat, a fury filled her body as anguish filled her heart. He just had to push her, didn't he? She could just kill him sometimes! He always insisted on hurting her with his whores, pushing her to the limit so carelessly, using her methods of disposal for his 'accidents', and the one time she decided to reciprocate his actions, then he acted like a damn horny beast without any control over his own body.

Grabbing the wrist at the whore's throat, she gave him a hard tug. When he let go of the young woman, the look he gave Catherine caused a cold chill to run down her spine at the dead rage on his face. She could have sworn he would have struck her in that moment if she hadn't stepped back far enough to ward off an attack.

"Ah, if it isn't my most devoted wife come to grace me with her presence. I'm surprised you aren't letting that Scottish bastard take you behind some pillar as we speak. Did his slick tongue not provide you the amount of praise needed to get between your thighs?"

Letting go of the girl in his arms, he shoved her away from him and towards his outraged wife.

Stepping aside so as not to be stepped on by his fake Queen, Catherine waved the little whore away with the flick of her wrist, as she challenged her husband with the raising of an eyebrow.

"I can assure you, husband, that if I hadn't been so caught up in making sure that I didn't have to clean up another of your messes that he would be slipping himself inside me right now. Is that what you want to hear? That I, Catherine de Medici, Queen of France and your wife have wanted another man this night? That I wanted him to touch every single inch of me that you hold so dear? That I wanted him inside of myself so that I could feel what passion without the pain of betrayal after might feel like? Yes I wanted him! I wanted someone to cherish me like I should be. Is that really so wrong and so unheard of!? Now that you have your answer I'll be off to my rooms. I can't stand to look at you, filthy beast that you are!"

Suddenly his arms were on hers, and before she could move he had pushed his door open and was carrying her into his rooms. Throwing her halfway onto the chaise in his study, he pushed her down when she tried to sit up, and gave her neck a bite before whispering into her ear.

"I don't think so, wife! If I have to bind you to my bed to keep another man from ever touching you again, I will."

Pushing against his chest to remove him from her, she kicked at him when he bit her ear.

"You are a disgusting pig of a man, and I curse the day I ever married you!"

When he howled with laughter and came close enough to her face, she spat at him furiously.

Wiping his face with a hand, he growled as he sat back.

"Fine, Catherine! Have it your way."

Trumping toward the door, the windows all but shook when he screamed.

"Guards!"

Ripping the doors almost off the hinges as he flung them open, he gave a command that Catherine would regret enraging him to the point of for the rest of her days.

"Have every Scottish male left under my roof taken out and slaughtered. Also have it known that any man who dare touch my wife again will suffer the same fate!"

Scrambling to her feet with her heart thundering in her chest, she grasped for her husband as she tried to make him see reason.

"Henry! Henry, you can't really mean to do this!? This is madness!"

Turning to her with a slamming of the door, she could swear there was pain behind the mask of infuriation he wore.

"I meant every word, Catherine! If I have to pluck out every man's eyes who even dares to look at you that's what I will do. You are mine, and mine alone to have!"

Catherine was aching inside, aching with rage, hurt, and a longing to truly be only his, but it wasn't meant to be. She would never be only his as long as he degraded her with his whores.

"You don't own me, husband. I'm not your doll to play with every time you get bored with those sluts you prefer! Why can't you let me go?"

Stepping towards her, he cringed when she backed away from him. Her request wasn't possible.

"Because I need you, wife."

"You need me? This is laughable! What do you need me for, my King? To fuck when it is convenient for you and the challenge of bedding your whores isn't enough to satisfy your tastes? Or do you need me simply to be your goddamn broodmare? I am done being your plaything! I'll play with others as much as I want to. You'll not use me for your gratification anymore, Henry!"

Grabbing everything she could from the desk, she threw it at him in a blind rage before she even registered her actions. She had been aiming for his head, but he moved with just enough speed as item after item was hurled towards him. The closer he came, the more furious she grew.

"You have always been more to me than those things, and you know it, Catherine!"

Grabbing for her arms, Henry stopped her just as she was about to throw a fallen bottle of ink on him. Knocking it from her hands, he caused it to drop back to the desk, cracking the glass and causing ink to drip out onto the desk and run over the edge to the floor.

She was between the desk and his body, trapped there looking up into his eyes. She didn't want to hear that. She hated it when he looked at her that way. When his hand stroked her cheek, she turned her face away from him, silently rejecting his advance and his words. She didn't want him to make her feel. She wasn't ready to open herself up to him, and she was angrier than she had ever been at his actions. All of their unresolved issues were building up in her, and she felt she would explode if he touched her any longer.

He was disappointed when she didn't look up at him, but his addled mind wasn't backing down. Capturing her lips with his tenderly, his hands went to the laces on her dress and pulled them roughly apart, partially ripping her gown from her shoulders and revealing more of her skin to him. Catherine didn't respond to his passion, and still tried to push his arms from her and even scraped his neck with her nails to get him to leave her be, but when she opened her mouth to tell him to stop playing this game of his Henry shoved his tongue inside. With a groan her wall started to crumble, and she finally kissed him back, giving his tongue a hard bite as she matched his heated lust with her own, her hand going to his doublet and shoving it from his body. When he lifted her to sit on his desk and tried to push her skirt up, some of her anger came back to her. At this moment he was having men, innocent men killed because of his ego, and she was going to let him take her that easily? Trying to push him away, she was thwarted as his hand came to rest between her thighs.

No, Henry!

Her mind was screaming at her to stop him. This was wrong! He needed to know there were consequences for his actions. When he whispered in her ear he could feel how bad her need for him was, something inside of her broke as her hand came up to slap his face as she freed her silent tongue with a screech from her throat.

"I hate you, Henry! Can't you understand that much, husband, or has your brain become too clouded with mad confusion? I HATE YOU!"

The moment the words flew from her mouth she saw the reaction in those dark depths of his. Any tenderness that he had dealt her was gone as he finished ripping her dress and corset from her body, and flipped her onto her stomach on the desk, drenching her front and her falling curls in the ink. She even felt a shard of the fallen glass prick her tender skin, but she didn't even flinch. She knew she had hurt him, but she didn't care. Her words had been true. She did hate him. She hated everything about him! She hated that he could bed any woman he had wanted for years, and there could be no repercussions because he was her King. She hated that he had left her longing for more than a quick fuck whenever he felt like she was worthy of his cock. She hated that he was still capable of hurting her so deeply after all these years with just a few simple words, but most of all she hated him for making her love him.

Exposed to his eyes with his leather clad heat pressing into her backside, she heard a rush of fabric fall to the floor. That had to be his shirt.

"I hate you more, you cold hearted bitch! Do you know what I want to do to you right now? Fuck you like the filthy beast that you think I am! But first you need to learn some respect."

His breath was hot on her neck before he pressed her head down to the wood of the desk with her cheek pressed against it, coating half of her face in the ink as well. God, she must look a sight!

There was a cold satisfaction from the plan that had formed for her in his mind. His hand slid down her back to grip her ass as she struggled to buck him off.

"At least give me the satisfaction of looking me in the eyes when you fuck me! As much as you may despise the fact most of the time I am still your wife, you bastard!"

The slap of his hand against her ass set her on fire and made her jump in surprise from the ferocity of him. Before she could even take another breath and register what was happening, his hand was slapping her cheeks in rapid repetition as she writhed and tried to get away from him. There was a strange heat that had formed inside of her from the roughness of his hands, and she couldn't quite understand it.

"Henry…would you have me black and blue for your pleasure? What's next, my King? The rack?! A scourging in the courtyard? Is this to be your new method if I misspeak? To strip me naked, and spank me to have me do as you please? What makes you think this will even work?"

Catherine wasn't sure what was happening or why, but her core was aching to have him, and she hated herself for it. She hated that she needed him buried deep inside of her to silence the scream of her body for his, and she hated the clear quiver in her own voice. Her whole body was a traitor to her bleeding heart. When his hand connected just a bit lower around her clit, she squealed loudly as her hips bucked up for more. Oh God, she was making a complete fool of herself and Henry would use it against her later, but she needed a bit more.

Sweat was springing from Henry at his efforts and at some point in her 'punishment' he could swear Catherine had started enjoying it. When he accidentally slapped her clit she almost came back off the desk as her body asked him for more. The way she wiggled her ass up at him enticingly had him slapping her lower now, centering on her clit. When he stopped spanking her, her voice was a moan when she spoke.

"Don't stop now, you whoremonger. I thought you wanted to teach me some respect…if that's even possible?"

His answer was nothing more than a grunt from his throat in response.

"You would be the kind to love a good spanking, devil woman."

She was keening under his touch, and she wanted more of him, but she wasn't going to admit it openly.

"You are insane, Husband. You should let Nostradamus take a look at you."

His laughter, loud and knowing filled her ears as his fingers swiped across her wet opening.

"I might be insane, Catherine, but I am clearly correct in knowing your physical desires."

When his fingers plunged deep inside of her, her response was lost in her throat as she moaned at the welcome intrusion and tried to press back onto his fingers only to be stopped by his weight centered on her as he stopped her from moving. After his first deep stroke, he only pumped in and out of her slightly, building up the inferno within her slowly as she coated his fingers with her pleasure.

"Why would I want a man who fucks every stupid slut that spreads her legs for him? You know nothing of the word fidelity, Henry! Ooh…"

Her husband's fingers were deeply pumping her now, pushing her sensitive clit into the edge of the wooden desk with each thrust. Her body was responding to him, telling her to give into him.

"A man knows when his wife wants him, Catherine."

His voice was low now, but steadfast nonetheless. Stepping behind her, he pinioned her between the desk and his body before holding his fingers up in front of her eyes. Catherine gasped at the sight of her body's clear betrayal of her feelings.

"Have you ever tasted yourself, Catherine? You're quite delectable, darling."

Catherine could feel her cheeks redden with her blush.

"Henry, I-"

"Suck, Catherine!"

He was waving his fingers under her nose, letting her smell herself before tracing her lips with his fingers. When she didn't respond to his order he became impatient.

"Suck!"

His other hand was plundering her breasts now, and he squeezed her unmercifully hard when she denied him again.

"I am becoming extremely impatient! Do I have to punish you again? Don't make me take a riding crop to your ass!"

His hips pounded into her, pressing her smaller body tighter into the wood as his leather rubbed her womanhood. She could even feel her own slickness against his pants as he slid up and down her. God forgive her, she needed him inside of her. Licking her tongue across his fingers, she tasted her musky essence. She didn't taste…bad. In fact she tasted sweet. When he pushed his fingers into her mouth, her senses were invaded…invaded with lust, overwhelming lust that threatened to choke the life from her. Moaning around him, she forgot that she should be angry with him for a moment.

Pleased with her submission, his hand started fiddling with his pants, his cock now painful in its limited confines. Her bite brought him away from his task, completely devouring him with rage and a dark desire to make her comply. Grabbing her hair, he pulled her around to kneel in the floor before him. What a sight she was! Ink slipped down her front as half of her cheek and hair was covered with the blackness of it. There were scratches, tiny ones from the glass shards, and a longer cut across the top of her right breast. There was a slight oozing from it, a small droplet running down the side of her pretty roundness as it traced a path over white skin. The contrast was quite breathtaking to behold to the maddened King. He loved seeing his Queen so out of control and thrown about and he loved knowing he was the only one she would ever bow to again. He was going to make sure of that.

"You are going to learn to obey me even if it is the last thing I do!"

Her eyes were full of fire, full-fledged lust, but she wasn't going to submit to him completely. He deserved nothing of that from her!

"It very well might be, my King. I'll obey you when you can respect me."

His hand was tight in her hair, causing the least bit of pain to make her know he meant his words as he spoke.

"You will learn, Catherine. You are going to suck your King until I command you to stop, and if you bite me you'll find out how deranged I can truly be!"

She didn't have much of a choice in the matter did she? Or didn't she? Perhaps she could bargain with him? A more compliant wife, one willing to do whatever and let him have full control over her body to use as he wanted in exchange for the men who were probably being led out to their doom right now? Such a scandal just wouldn't do for their family. If such a slaughter spread, then they would all be in peril for sure. She couldn't possibly keep something as messy as that quiet. First she needed him to relax a bit more, and there was only one way to make that happen currently.

Giving him an evil smirk, she finished unlacing his leathers and pulled them down. His throbbing manhood sprang out at her, his arousal clear as he groaned when she took him in her palm. Tracing a finger from his base to his tip, her eyes never left his as he watched her. Swiping his arousal away with her thumb she had her first taste of him and moaned disgracefully long. She was rewarded as his eyes became even darker in his lust for her mouth. Her hands surrounded him as she kissed him and swirled her tongue around him. Henry's eyes slid shut from the pleasure as his hand wound its way into her fallen hair. Knowing what he wanted, Catherine took him into her mouth more. This wasn't an act of creating heirs, but the Queen had done her fair share of gratifying her King in this way. He loved it, and she knew how to bring him to the edge faster, or more slowly. She needed him able to grant requests so she worked him slowly, only taking a few inches of him at a time before receding. Slipping him from her mouth she worked him with her hand quicker before she kissed him open mouth all along the length of him. She was making him wet all over as her fingers glided around his thick girth easily before she slid him back into her mouth. This time she took as much of him down her throat as she could, shutting her eyes and focusing on her task. She needed him swollen and wanting, and he was quite that definition by this point.

His Catherine did have the sharpest tongue when she wanted to, but it all seemed worth it when she took him like this. His eyes opened to watch her slide him in and out of her now, and when she swallowed more of him and then hummed he was almost undone.

"Cath-… Catherine…ooh, why can't you be this submissive always?"

Opening her eyes at his words, she looked up at him hopefully before dropping him from her lips again as her hand still stroked him.

"I could be, Henry…"

Knowing there were more to her words as her teeth bit into her own bottom lip, Henry traced her forehead down the center and down the length of her nose to rest upon her chin and tugged on her to stop and turn her entire face upwards.

"Just how much would that cost me? You've never been docile. I don't think you're capable of taming."

Her cheeks burned as his eyes watched her. Could she actually be everything he wanted and needed her to be? To save their family, their country, their positions, and their lives she would have to try.

"I will do as you ask, I will be meek and obedient to whatever you want me to do during our…playtime, if you call off the slaughter of the Scots…and if you can respect my position as your wife and your Queen."

Catherine could feel the hand that gripped her hair tighten at her request, and she could see his immediate refusal. Trying to distract and reason with him in a different form, she licked across his tip slowly as she still looked up into his eyes before she spoke again.

"Just think, Henry. You could have me in whatever way you wanted…whenever you wanted. There would be no more need for incidents like tonight. You would hear my sharpness no more. I offer you only love, my husband. Love and…acceptance of my duties to you alone."

Her hand continued stroking him, keeping him ready in her hand as she kissed his thigh.

"As long as I don't kill men who seek to take you away from me? As long as I don't kill men whom you just claimed to want because they are so much better than me-"

"It was one man, husband. Only one, and I never wanted him. He was clearly drunken with the wine at the festivities, and mistook me for a lady in waiting. If he had known I was the Queen he wouldn't have dared approach me in such a way I'm sure. As for what I said to you they were words meant to hurt you, words that were meant to share with you the pain of betrayal that I feel every time I see you with another. They are words that you will never have to hear again after tonight if you spare those men their lives. Besides how could I ever want another as much as I want you right now? You are a King…my King! They are peasants and Scots. How could they ever please me as you do?"

Her face was sweetness itself as she innocently stared up at the man above her. He couldn't see any guile in her, but she had always reminded him of Eve; full of trickery and deceit. He couldn't be as Adam was and be tricked by her.

"Why do you insist upon this? They are men you know nothing of. I am King. I can kill who I see fit. They are in my realm are they not?"

Catherine's face visibly fell as he spoke every word. This wasn't as easy as she had thought it would be.

"I insist because our family, our country, and our power is at stake. They are guests in our home, and Mary's subjects. This could threaten our alliance with Scotland, our trust with our other advisers and…your headaches wouldn't be our little secret anymore. You could be in danger…we all could. The boys, me…our enemies multiply daily, Henry. They search for reasons and time to destroy us. The Bourbons continually plot as does England. Please…please let me be your release from your troubles. Call off the slaughter, and come to bed, won't you? Take what you need from me in your rage. I will give you what you desire…what you've always desired from me if you do this."

There was a quiver, a pleading in his wife's voice when she spoke, and truth spilled from her eyes. Henry couldn't deny there was a small bit of reason to her words that even his mind could comprehend. Perhaps she was correct?

"It is an intriguing idea, Caterina."

When softness entered her husband's voice and eyes, Catherine knew she had succeeded…for now. Her hand had ceased its movement on him, but once again she worshipped him with her tongue to reaffirm her words before she gave him one last kiss and a playful bite to his inner thigh before moving back quickly from him. She was surprised he let her go so easily.

"Then I'll be waiting for you, husband. Come claim your prize."

She purposely wiggled her hips as she walked toward the door to his bedroom knowing he was watching her move. She threw him a look of need over one shoulder before disappearing from his sight, leaving him longing. Henry who was still entranced by her show and words just stood there a few moments before going to his door to open it a crack, and spoke lowly to one of the guards still there. He would grant her request…with one small amendment. She needn't ever know of just what he hadn't agreed to, only that all of the Scots under their roof wouldn't be slaughtered. One Scotsman drunk off his ass wouldn't be suspected of being murdered if he decided a dip in the lake was a good idea. Drownings happened every day to inebriated persons. There had to be consequences for wanting and touching his Queen.

In her husband's bedroom alone, Catherine had some time to gather her thoughts and her appearance. There was a basin of clean water thankfully and a mirror along with cloth. She looked a mess from their struggle, and she did the best she could to rid her body of the ink marks tracked across her along with her own blood droplets that had slipped down her side. The cut on her breast wasn't deep, and she made sure no glass was hidden in it. She would have to have her salve brought around later for it. Her hair would need a good cleansing as well, but she didn't suppose Henry would allow her that at the moment. She was able to remove the rest of her pins and let it down completely before wetting it some. Her curls were messy and untamable, but she was able to run her fingers through them and get all the ink she could find out. She threw her wet curls down her back, and tied them back with a ribbon she found before giving herself a look over. It would have to do. Going to her husband's bed she pulled the covers down and centered herself in the midst, surrounded by the various pillows and the sheets beneath her as she waited. Why did she suddenly feel so…nervous?

Shifting herself into what she hoped was a seductive position, Catherine pondered her thoughts as she smoothed one foot slowly up and down the calf of her other. She didn't honestly think…or at least, she really hoped that Henry wouldn't condemn her to the fates of his other fallen bedmates now. She was risking a lot when she had offered him anything he desired of her. He hadn't ever been physically violent to the point of pain with her during their intimacies before his headaches, but…that Henry had loved her, or so she thought. This Henry claimed to love her also, but she had enticed his wrath. A few moments of a silly game to get his attention had been childish. What if Henry hadn't even wanted that kitchen maid? What if her own fear had gotten the better of her?

She had unknowingly started picking at her fingernails. It was a habit, a bad one she had picked up years ago as a coping mechanism. Florence and her time in captivity had left many marks upon her soul, marks that could never be erased. Catherine hadn't trusted another person since before her ravishment. They had taken all the best parts of her; the innocence of her youth, her ability to trust without fear, rest in sleep without nightmares. Henry knew nothing of those times, nor would he ever. He couldn't possibly understand, especially now. All she could do was bury her dark thoughts, and hope that this love he spoke of was enough to keep him from killing her. When she heard the door open she buried her hands under the pillows beside her.

"Is the deed done, husband?"

Henry had the urge to dive onto the bed in an instant at the sight of her. No other woman had looked so inviting in his bed. She was all beautiful curves and softness lain out before him waiting to be taken. One of her knees was bent and he could see her curls inviting him in. An angel on a cloud couldn't have stirred his passions or his hunger more.

"Yes, wife, and I've come to claim you…all of you. I hope you hadn't any plans of resting this night. I'm in great need."

Catherine smiled at Henry, a genuine smile. He suddenly seemed so much younger to her, and he seemed free of whatever demons haunted his mind. Her fears were calmed as he gave her a roguish wink, one full of fun and mischief. She watched as he started crawling up to her from the bottom of the bed, his mouth stopping to kiss and nip her foot. She was pleasantly surprised when he didn't immediately come up to her lips, pleased as he seemed to want to worship her whole body.

"I am yours to have as many times as you please, Henry. That was the deal, was it not?"

Looking up just in time, Henry growled when Catherine's bent knee fell to the side to give him a view of her womanhood. Such a seductress he had married!

"Say it again, Catherine! Say you're mine, and mine alone."

Her husband's lips were kissing her tiny ankle now as he watched her under dark lashes. His look sent an ache throughout her body, one she'd never willingly admit to having.

"I'm yours, and I'll always be only yours."

Her husband's lips were now open as he licked up her calf to her knee. He was thorough, and gave her a nip after every other kiss. The pattern was driving her crazy as was his slowness. When he spread her legs she thought he would finally touch her only to be disappointed by his lips lingering on her inner thighs. Her clit was burning for attention and she wanted something of him buried inside of her, but he seemed content on this slow pace. His hands were squeezing her cheeks as he licked all around where she needed him to be. Her hand swept across his head as his tongue finally circled across her feminine flower only to have his lips latch onto her bud. Her back arched as he suckled her, his tongue lapping her up as she tried to pull him closer with her legs only to have them pressed down beneath his strong arms. Henry laughed as she let out a moan in protest and bit her for her insolence which caused a loud whimper to leave her throat in response.

"Remember you're mine, Catherine? Anything I want…anything I need."

Henry had stopped tasting her and Catherine's nose had crinkled at the missed contact, her forehead filled with tiny lines as her eyes were closed. Finding it quite sexy he crawled up the length of her body, his tongue carving a path between her breasts before he came up to bite her neck. One of his bites even brought her up from the bed in shock. Her eyes opened and they were filled with shock and a determinable amount of lust which drove Henry insane. Catherine was disoriented from the pleasure that had turned to pain, and the next thing she knew she was on her stomach panting for her husband as he grinded himself against her red backside. His thrusts were hard and determined, pushing her toward the headboard as his hands held her arms above her. Her body was calling out for him and she wondered why he hadn't made her his once more as he hadn't yet joined their bodies. He was clearly ready. What was he waiting for?

"I want you like this, Caterina."

Catherine's breath caught in her throat as his lips trailed kisses along her ear. His arm was around her waist now, holding himself against her opening.

"Then take me. Take what is yours, husband, and fulfill us both."

His bite on the nape of her neck had her on alert, equally aroused and questioning the words that he whispered against her wanton skin.

"I will…as soon as I make a few minor alterations."

Alterations? She wasn't sure she knew what that meant. What was he going to alter?

When he moved from behind her to get off the bed, she started to roll onto her side to see what he was doing only to be reprimanded with a swift smack to her sore cheeks so she waited silently, head down in the pillows. She heard him shuffling things around in his wardrobe before she felt him climb back up to her again. She felt silk cloth caress across her back before she felt the weight of his knees on either side of her back. When he told her to lift her head she did so willingly only to have whatever was in his hands drawn across her eyes. What was he doing? Her body tensed, unsure if she liked where this game was going or not as light turned to darkness. There had only been one other time that she had been blindfolded, and it hadn't been a pleasurable experience. What if Henry did mean to hurt her? His beard tickled her ear as he kissed and told her everything he was going to do to her, wonderfully pleasurable things that she should have loved to hear. She was still unsure and haunted by demons of her past, and she couldn't stop the sudden suffocating fear in her stomach. His hands were everywhere on her now, and it was overwhelming her with memories of many sets of hands, all gripping her most private parts that shouldn't have ever seen such harsh treatment yet her body was responding to him against the will of her mind. Her heart was racing as excitement flooded her system. Henry gave her curls a tug which brought her neck up to be kissed and nipped by him. She would need to wear a high collar tomorrow. Her husband's need was showing through his bites and sucks of her soft flesh as he marked her as his own.

"Lay still, love, and just enjoy. I do so appreciate your submission. The fun we'll have, Catherine."

Henry was beyond aroused at this point. To have one's wife in such a giving position…made his blood race even more to a most vital organ. She was his to do with as he wished. Oh the things that came to mind with that statement. There would be plenty of time to have her places and do things she had been unwilling to before, but what a grand start they would have tonight. His hands pressed Catherine up toward the headboard, having her to get on her knees in front of him as he ran the dark silk scarves that would bind her to the bed up and down her body. He loved the contrast of the darker color against her skin, the feel of it gliding across her underneath his care before he joined her to his bed.

Henry was being gentle, sucking and kissing her left shoulder blade as he took her arms above her head but she couldn't relax. When the silk scarves had her bound completely to the bed and she could no longer move her arms, she had to bite her lip to make it stop trembling. This was her Henry. He whispered of pleasure, not pain. Why was this becoming hard for her to endure and why did her past beckon now?

She didn't know how long she could keep up this charade. She couldn't tell Henry. He could never know that detail of her past. Who knew what he would do in the state that he was in now? His breathing was too heavy and loud in her ear, and she could feel his hands become needier. He was excited over this. Her King wanted this control and she had offered it. She could feel him at her opening before he joined their bodies with a quick thrust inside. She barely kept the cry in her throat silenced as she buried her head deeper into the pillow. This was France, this wasn't Florence. This was her husband, not her attackers. She had to silence herself before he knew anything was wrong.

In truth, Catherine was having trouble breathing. In Florence the men who had been unable to look into the face of a young broken girl had taken her like this, stretching their bodies above hers. From behind no one cared what age she was as they throttled her senseless in their need for release. She despised the angry and fear filled tears that now were gathering in her eyes. She needed to be strong. This wasn't the time for a mental breakdown. Half of the people in this very bed had been suffering that for over a month now. She had to be the levelheaded one, didn't she? She simply didn't have the time to break.

Henry, lost in his very fervent need, was slipping his hands all along the curves of her body as he continued to thrust into her. She was warm, and so tight around him. Her breathing was heavy which only aroused the raucous King more. His arm wrapped around her waist tighter as he throttled against her even more. The yelp he heard escape her lips made him want to bite her. He could almost bet she was biting that bottom lip of hers, pouting as she tried to convince herself that she should still be angry at him, but her body told him different. She was accepting him deeper than she had in weeks, and he wasn't going to waste that.

Stopping long enough to flip her onto her back, Henry chuckled at causing a tiny squeal to leave her lips before he mounted her again. What a vixen she was! His eyes watched as he slid within her this time, and he noted the small jerk her body made against his own. His hand rested on her hip as he took a long look at his Queen before him. The scarlet scarves held her arms to the head board, their color a beautiful contrast to her ivory wrists as his eyes traced down her body. Her hair was strewn out around her head and her cheeks were pink with color. Her chest was heaving, and he couldn't help taking one of her rosebuds into his mouth as she came up to meet him. He gave her a tug before letting his lips drift up to hers and taking her bottom lip into his. He enclosed her lip with his two rows of teeth and bit down, causing Catherine to cry out incoherently in what he assumed as pleasure until he laid his eyes upon the blindfold covering her eyes. The material looked…wet, somehow? Why? Had Catherine been crying? Why would she possibly be that upset? Was she still angry? Did she despise being with him that much? Perhaps she really did hate him? The thoughts entering his mind did nothing but make his heart heavy. Maybe Catherine's angry word had been the truth, but why would she offer to put herself through something her heart was clearly not in? Did she fear him that much? Stopping his thrusting with a groan Henry traced a hand down her cheek thoughtfully.

Catherine, why can't you love me?

Catherine laid as absolutely still as she could under him as she tried to breathe steadily. She didn't know what had caused her husband to stop his movements, but she was glad for some reprieve. She tried to tell herself she wasn't trembling as bad as she actually was. Her fingernails, or rather what was left of them, were gripping her bindings for dear life as she tried to control herself. She just didn't seem able to get a deep enough breath. When her husband pulled the material off of her eyes she wished she could just disappear into the bed. How would she explain this to him now? As she looked into his questioning eyes she wondered if he would even understand.

"Catherine?"

Her name sounded more like a question in itself as he waited for her to say something…anything to help him to understand all of this. He had rarely seen her cry before, and never when they had been intimate. She had saved all of those for after he had left her cold and alone one his lust had been filled. Her voice was barely a whisper when she was finally able to speak as her eyes dropped shut. She wasn't sure she could trust herself not to burst into a whimpering mess of emotions if she spoke any louder and she certainly couldn't look at him.

"Please, Henry, just get off me. I'm unable to…I'm sorry…I need a moment and then you can continue. I just need…to collect myself."

Without a word Henry rolled off of her and had the forethought to unbind her hands. Something was wrong and he would get to the bottom of this. He wasn't giving up on this venture of theirs that easily.

"Catherine-"

Stopping her from rolling onto her side away from him, Henry was met with her hazel depths when she opened them to protest his action.

"I told you I need a moment, husband! Don't worry I'll fulfill my part of our bargain just please…I couldn't breathe. I can't breathe properly."

Henry saw the tears of fear in her eyes now as his wife threated to break, and he suddenly hated himself. What had he done? Had he hurt her that badly? Maybe she was more fragile than he had thought. She was certainly so much smaller than his usual bed partners in this rougher venture. He sometimes forgot how small she was but that was mostly because of her sharp tongue and fiery temper. This was so wrong of him to have even entertained the idea that she could endure...this type of kinkery, as he liked to call it. Well there would be no more of it. He didn't want her weak or hurting. He'd rather have his Queen unbroken and unbent anyday compared to the lost look he now saw in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, Caterina. I didn't mean to hurt you. We'll have no more of this. I promise. Did I tie the scarves too tight? Was I too heavy on you? I should have remembered to use a pillow, or maybe not have left you unable to prop yourself up on your elbows? You're too tiny to be crushed under my weight. Can you forgive me this time for it? I've never tried that with you before, and it seemed like an interesting way to start things off."

Burying his head in her hair as he was now unable to look in her face he felt her hand meet his cheek, and her heartbeat calm. She didn't seem to be shaking as much now as she had been, and he could only guess that as a good sign.

"Henry, I…you didn't hurt me."

It actually made her heart ache to see him show such care. Maybe her husband wasn't as insane as she had believed him to be?

Henry looked at her incredulously and unbelieving. Something had clearly been wrong. Had she injured herself earlier in the day?

"Then why couldn't you breathe? Should I get the wizard? I abhor him, but if you need him…"

Henry's voice trailed off at the distrait look on his wife's face. She seemed to be deep in her own thoughts, and then he noticed her hands. She had been picking them. Why?

"Caterina?"

Picking her hand up Henry examined the bleeding puffy skin around her fingernail beds. Unable to look at his face Catherine tried to turn her face away from him only to be stopped gently with a hand on her cheek.

"Henry…some things should never be revealed. Just know that you didn't hurt me tonight. I'll be fine to continue now if you wish it."

She gave him a weak smile and tried to reach a still trembling hand along the length of him before being caught by Henry's gentle but noncompliant grip. He gave her his gentlest smile as he spoke, and her Queenly heart wanted to cry again.

"No, love. Never again…or at least not until I know why you were panicking."

She pulled her hand back and answered him with more force then she had known she had within her at that moment.

"I can't tell you!"

Catherine was frightened, terribly frightened of what would happen if her addled-brained husband knew of what had happened to her before she had married him. How could she possibly trust him? He could decide it had all been her fault or even worse enjoyed and even asked for what had happened to her in one of his fits of rage. Then where would she be? Dead? She needed to live for her children!

Henry noticed that Catherine's shaking had returned and he wanted to try to reassure her.

"Yes you can. I need your trust if this is going to work. Please, mi amore, I need to know."

Catherine felt bare and ashamed before Henry. She had never told anyone about what had happened to her in Florence, hadn't even dared whisper it to herself since it had happened. Rumors had circulated, of course, but they had never been given any validity. The only people, nuns and soldiers alike, who had even known the truth were dead now. She had made sure of that before she had even left Italy. There had been advantages to being a Medici in that time of her life. People may have cursed her name, but she had shown them the strength inside of herself. Strength wasn't always physical as the men who had ruined her had learned.

She looked into her husband's eyes, into that face that she had loved for most of her life in secret and she felt the strength inside of her start to crumble. It was a terribly lonely feeling to be the only one to carry such a burden.

"This…I do not suffer from physical pain, Henry. There are some wounds that never heal and certain activities and memories of the past bring those to the surface."

Her voice was barely above a whisper as she started picking her fingernails absentmindedly.

"Catherine, I don't understand. Help me to understand. Please!"

Henry felt a terrible dread coursing through his veins as he watched his wife get lost in her own mind again. She looked like she was shielding herself from something. Pain, maybe? When she rolled onto her side away from him he let her go this time as he waited in the heavy silence that had filled the room.

"Do you remember our first night together, Henry? Do you remember how you held me close and shielded me from roving eyes? I was shaking and you thought it was because it was my first time coupled with the strange ritual of being watched in the act. It wasn't because of that although I always did appreciate the sentiment."

Catherine's voice broke on her last word. It seemed too long on her tongue somehow, and her mouth felt like she had swallowed sand for dinner. Her husband's inquiring voice did nothing to help the hole that had been ripped into her heart.

"Then what was the reason, love?"

Henry's hand was making slow circles on her arm as he tried to comfort her and she thought about the first night he had tried to comfort her in the same way. It had been after everyone had left the bedchamber. She had been quiet for the longest of times as she tried not to cry.

"I was fearful of your touch. I had to remember to breathe, and I had to try to forget what was happening. If I hadn't I would have remembered…"

Henry pulled his hand from her skin as if he had been burned. So she had feared him? But why? He had been gentle that first time if he had recalled correctly. At fourteen she looked nothing like the woman she was now. They had both been so young and he hadn't known how to love her, but he hadn't wanted to hurt her even then.

"Remembered what?"

His voice was shaky, a mix of trepidation and worry laced with unease. Surely the rumors of her past, rumors of a young girl broken by dozens of men had been a lie. She couldn't have been…wasn't that woman. Her face was now hidden from him, but he could see her knuckles. They were white as she now squeezed her hands together, and he worried about the force with which she was exerting on herself. She was also shivering and he wondered if it was from a chill she felt or one she remembered.

"I would have remembered Florence, Henry. I would have remembered a time when-"

Her King could take no more of this. Sitting up he pulled her with him, the force of his interruption stopping her words before they had fully been realized. The sharpness in his tone made her cringe and she wished he would ease up his grip on her upper arms. She would be bruised there tomorrow as well.

"But Florence was a lie. That never happened! If it had-"

She could see the fire in his eyes clearly now, and she knew he wanted her to tell him it was all a lie, but he had asked for the truth. She wanted to be free of pretending a very real piece of her past had never happened. She wanted him to understand why she had done what she had to protect herself. Pulling away from him she backed toward the edge of the bed. He wouldn't want her body after he knew anyway. He would never want her again. That knowledge caused her heart to ache. She had always had some part of her husband's attention even if it had been for fleeting moments. Her voice broke through his exclamation louder then she had spoken since she had entered this room and rose with every syllable as she straightened her shoulders defiantly.

"If it had been known I would never have been sent to France, and I would have been cast out into the streets by my own family! I would have ended up a prostitute begging for my next meal and bowing to every sniveling rat of a man who had enough coin to satisfy my growling stomach for a day! So no, Henry, it never happened to be known as truth! It never happened to be known to my uncle, the Pope! It never happened to be known to your father, the King! It never happened to be known to you, the Dauphin! It only happened to be known to me, and I took my fate into my own hands! I chose to never have to bow to anyone but a King, and if I have to die because of that then so be it, but don't act like you are the one who has been betrayed here!"

Henry's face had turned purplish red in color, and he looked as if he wanted to heave. Catherine could see a flash of anger in his eyes, but when he opened his mouth to speak she cut him off again with a finger to his lips effectively shushing him. She wouldn't let him make this about himself.

"I'm the one who was betrayed by everyone who should have been a protector, a lover…a friend. Can't you understand?"

Her eyes were beseeching his for a moment before she tried to turn away. Her husband's hand caught hers before she could. Her eyes slid back to his and she feared what she saw in those eyes of his. Henry's voice was low and filled with rage when he spoke two simple words.

"How many?"

Catherine's brow furrowed. She tried not to shiver in his grasp as her head started to painfully throb.

"What?"

Henry lessened his grip on her wrist slightly. He couldn't process what he had been hearing. Catherine…his Caterina had been raped? She had only been fourteen when they had married, and she had been in Florence in captivity since she was eight. He could see her as a small girl being tortured by beast after beast now, and he couldn't shake the nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach. They had disfigured her beautiful soul.

"I asked you how many… there were? In Florence?"

The overwhelming sadness in Henry's voice mixed with the way he seemed to genuinely care caused Catherine to want to crumble, but she knew there was more to it with him. He felt betrayed that he had never known her before another. She was sure of that! Her husband was one of the most self-centered people she had ever known, and there was great reason for that. He was King, and had been given everything he had ever wanted. He didn't know how to care selflessly for another person. Wrenching her arm out of his grasp, she backed away from him as her temper rose.

"This isn't about your ego, Henry!"

She thought he was so self-consumed that he would make this trauma that she had suffered about himself? He knew that he could be unbearable at times, and he knew he had an incorrigible temper when he was denied of her, but he cared for her deeply. He always had. Couldn't she see that? He cared that these men had frightened her…that they had shamed her. If he could he would kill them with his own hands right now!

"No, no it's not. It's about you, Catherine. They hurt you…scarred you beyond repair. How many men did it take to do that to you?"

He wanted to pull her into him. He felt the need to shelter her, but the look on her face told him to leave her untouched for the moment. Her eyes seemed so dead as she looked into his own, but her answer perplexed him even more.

"One."

The stories he had heard had all claimed she had taken as much as a whole troop if not more in Florence. He had silently been wishing and hoping that the particular number had been wrong, but her answer confused him as did her actions as she stood from his bed. She was quiet as she pulled his robe from the couch the servants had laid it on earlier in the evening. Her face was away from his as she tied the material tightly around herself and he couldn't even guess what she was thinking. He cautiously prodded her.

"I heard there were many…"

He couldn't bring himself to finish that statement and his last word was almost caught in his throat. The thought that anyone could purposely hurt her as a child, well…it made him think of their Claude and that picture sickened him even more.

Catherine hugged his robe tighter around herself. Henry could be a wise man, but he had always been blind when it had come to her. Her own voice sounded strained as she turned to look at the man who now stood only a few steps from her. He had always been so handsome, but in this moment as he tried to understand her he was everything she had ever wanted him to be. She knew this was a fleeting moment, but she had never expected this of him, especially since the madness had taken him.

"Oh, husband, as much as you seem to know everything, at times you really are blind. As much as they abused my body they never scarred me beyond repair. There was only one man who ever had my heart for long enough to commit that transgression."

Henry hadn't been expecting that. Out of everything she could have said he had never considered that. Was she saying he had damaged her? He had ruined her more than those beasts in Florence ever could? Did she really think him that much a monster? Had he been that horrible to her? That being raped by multiple men wasn't even a good comparative to…his treatment of her? He had always loved her! Maybe not enough as he should have, but he would never have seriously hurt her! He hadn't even killed her when she had committed adultery against him, and she had given birth to another's man's child! He had been merciful to her, yet she still viewed him as worse than a rapist of a child?

"How can you even say that, Catherine? I love you! I've always loved you."

Henry had taken a step towards is Queen at that admission. His hands were clenched at his sides as he tried to quell his urge to pull her to him.

His words tore at the open wound in her battered heart, and her tongue set upon him in a fury that had never been matched by any other woman in his life.

"When it was convenient for you, Henry, you have loved you. When the challenge of others has bored you to tears then you would throw your affection my way until I gave you what you wanted. You are a King, Henry. You have always taken what you wanted when you wanted it, and you have always granted your love upon those when it pleases you."

The anger in her husband had been sparked at her words and Catherine stepped back in fear as Henry stepped toward her with an extended index finger.

Full of rage at the accusations he felt leveled against him, Henry lost what sensibility he had gathered as his head started to ache.

"And for that you would accuse me of treating you worse than a group of men who raped you over and over again? Come now, wife, am I really the only one to blame for our broken marriage? You never loved me with an unburdened heart! Even in the beginning you held pieces of yourself back. You hid so much of yourself that even now after twenty five years of marriage I am just now seeing a new part of you. You never trusted me enough to love me completely. Why do you think Diane was ever an option?! Because you pushed me away as you always do! It's all you know how to do, wife!"

His hands had enclosed around her arms, and he had backed her into the wall beside of the fireplace as he yelled into her face. She couldn't even try to calm him down now, as she didn't know how. She had released the beast inside of him, and she wondered if she had signed her own death warrant by doing so. His eyes were dark with rage, darker than she had ever seen them before, and his hands were biting into her skin. As painful as his hands were, his words were even more hurtful. She should never have told him anything of her sad truth about Florence. She should have said he had physically hurt her before his rage. At least then he had seemed caring.

"Henry, please, calm-"

"I want answers, Catherine! How did I ever make you feel worse than those beasts did?! How am I more of a monster than they are?!"

His hands were holding her tightly against the wall now as he refused to let her move. Tears had sprung to her eyes and she feared what he would do next. Her voice was a plea when she spoke, having to yell to be heard now.

"You're hurting me, Henry! Please stop! I'm sorry. Sorry I ever told you; sorry I couldn't handle your request. I just wanted you to know that although they took my body they could never break me! They could never scar me beyond repair because they never had my love…my trust! I gave you that part of me, but my faith in you was broken a long time ago. No one else has ever had the power over me that you had, but those bastards…I couldn't see! I could only hear them, and I couldn't even defend myself because of the ropes around my wrists. That's why I was crying earlier. I was reminded of those days; reminded of the torture of it all. I just need time to adjust to your new habits and I'll be fine, just please don't kill me!"

Catherine couldn't even see him clearly through the tears that had blurred her vision, but if she had she would have seen a man who had started to break; emotionally, and physically. He had never seen his wife, his Medici bride so weakened. He had never thought that it would have ever been in her to beg for her life, yet here she was. He didn't want her broken like this; her heart bare for him to see. He didn't have any plans of killing her. In fact, it was the last thing he wanted. She wasn't some disposable whore like the others had been. She had to know that, didn't she?

She flinched and closed her eyes when his lips tried to touch her forehead. It hurt him, but he understood why. She obviously thought that his rage had driven him to commit the murder of those other women. The first had been a terrible accident. The second, well…it had been experimentation gone wrong, but he had learned his mistake on that. Catherine had shown him that a hand upon her throat simply wasn't appropriate for her position, and he had concurred. How could he show her his repentance? He wanted to share newer things with her in their intimate times, but she had to trust him. This obviously hadn't endowed her with trust for him, but at least now he knew that they had to take things slower. Ease her into this game perhaps?

His grip had lessened on her arms slightly, but he wasn't letting her go. Instead she felt him rubbing his hands into where just a moment ago he had been threateningly holding onto. Catherine's head ached and her eyes felt like she couldn't even open them anymore. Weariness had invaded her body completely, and all she wanted to do was curl up into a ball on the floor and forget that the night had ever happened. Henry had seemingly calmed, granting her a reprieve for the moment. He probably enjoyed her debasement, or at least that was her first thought. She was surprised when he finally spoke as he tried to wipe the tears from her face with his hand.

"I'm sorry, Catherine."

For the first time in her marriage she could have sworn he actually sounded penitent. Could one even imagine it? A mad King who was penitent toward the wife he had degraded for years? Was it even possible? Henry at his best had never even tried to comprehend how she felt, yet at his worst he seemed to grasp her fragile state, and he had apologized. She could count the times he had actually admitted to her he was wrong on one hand, but a true apology? Now that was a rare gift.

His lips had taken up the task of kissing the tears from her cheeks as he wrapped his arms around her waist tenderly this time. He wasn't only willing to offer words of his repentance, but also actions. Her eyes fluttered open when his forehead rested against hers. It felt like an eternity passed as she looked into those deep eyes of his. He was truly sorry. She could see that. She didn't know how long her Henry would stay with her this time, but she felt that he was completely hers in this moment.

It was such a tender moment that she was surprised when he suddenly was picking her up bridal style and carrying her to his bed. She had known he would want to continue, but she hadn't thought it would have been this soon, nor did she want him throwing his back out in the process. She wasn't in the mood to continue this tug of war of theirs this night and she couldn't resist scolding him.

"You are determined to be in bed for days in pain, Henry. I could have walked if you had wanted to-"

"I would rather we forgo speech for the rest of the evening, Caterina."

Henry's tone was gentle yet determined, and Catherine felt it best if she comply. Words hadn't gotten them anywhere in the last hours.

Sitting her down comfortably on the side of the bed Catherine found her lips taken gently by her husband. The kiss was soft, full of care, and sweeter than any they might have shared. She wasn't surprised when she felt her husband start fumbling with the belt of his robe she wore before he pushed it from her shoulders. His fingers lingered where he had grasped her so harshly earlier, and she tried not to cringe from the thought. His lips left hers to kiss her arms, and she had no wish to see if he had caused her any bruises. She was left to wonder alone on the bed when Henry pulled back and turned to grab his nightshirt from the chaise.

"Henry, don't you want to continue? You're still-"

The look on Henry's face when he turned to her caused her words to catch in her throat. His eyes were more conflicted than she had ever seen them, and she realized in that moment the crinkle of lines that filled his face. He looked more stressed than she had ever seen.

"Don't tempt me, Catherine. I think it would be best if we could wait until morning to proceed with our…conversing. Now if you could just raise your arms for me I will try to make a positive memory out of this whole damn experience."

Her brow crinkled as she raised her arms enough for Henry to drop his nightshirt over her head and down her body, his hands moving slowly down her body before he pulled back again. On her husband she was sure the shirt would barely meet his thighs, but on her if she had been standing it would have reached her knees.

He motioned for her to roll enough so he could get in behind her. The bed dipped when he did and she found herself rolled onto her back and looking up at him. His lips grazed hers before he pulled the bedcovers around them and had her settle her back against his chest. Although his hands were now wondering down her body, and he was still clearly aroused he made no move to go any farther. His actions were both complex and wondersome to Catherine as he'd never acted so…so…un-Henry-like. Was this an attempt by him to actually give her space? Did he mean to show her he cared? Catherine's head ached too much at the moment to think too deeply on the matter, and his hands were making her even fainter. There had been too many twists and turns both physically and mentally this night, and she couldn't sort it out at all.

Henry was currently busying himself with playing in her hair behind her ear with his nose as the free hand not resting under her head was examining closely the dips and curves of her hips and thighs. He loved all of her, but these areas in particular had drawn him in. He felt her inch impossibly closer than they were when his hand dipped between her thighs, and her voice was noticeably shaky when she spoke.

"Henry, don't you think you should stop torturing yourself?"

His voice was full of sweet velvet when he spoke, Catherine feeling every vibration from his throat against his ear.

"Torture would be if I were unable to touch you, Caterina. Now try to rest."

So there the King and his Queen laid for the rest of the night. His hands caressing every inch of her while she tried not to show how affected she was by the feather soft touch of a man who could both break and please her. At some point in the early morning hours she fell into exhausted bliss, both willing the sun to rise and hoping it never did for she doubted he would ever caress her as sweetly again.

So review and let me know what you think. Be nice but truthful ;-)