Author's Note: I don't own Reign, but the story is generally mine. Inspired somewhat by the fantastic 'Queen of Camelot' by Nancy McKenzie. History has been altered, so consider yourself warned. This is definitely AU. Enjoy!
"How dare you!" raged Mary, towering over Lola seated before her. After speaking with Sebastian, Mary had made all efforts to find her lady. His words still echoed in Mary's ears.
Mary remembered the early morning conversation clearly. He had sought her out as she strolled through the newly planted castle gardens.
"Your Grace," bowed Sebastian, finding Mary amongst the newly planted shrubs, "good morning."
"And a good morning to you too, Bash," replied Mary, happy to see her traveling companion. The sun had been up a few hours, but its rays glistened across his brow and locks like the sunrise, glowing in hues of gold and bronze. Mary found herself staring. "I hope you slept well," she added honestly.
"I would have, had it not been for an unwelcome guest in my chambers," muttered Bash. Mary's eyes widened, unsure who or what Bash was talking about. Had there been an intruder in the Chateau? Had the Holy Roman Emperor sent spies into their midst?
"Pray tell me Bash, what happened?" questioned Mary. She stepped closer, a hand reaching for his arm in comfort. Bash leaned back as Mary stopped her reach, both acknowledging the impropriety of the gesture given their current location. Mary inwardly cringed, realizing this would be her, or rather their, new reality. No more gentle touches of comfort or reassurance, no matter how innocent.
"I do not wish to cause trouble, but your Lady Lola entered my chambers without my permission," Sebastian spoke softly, but deliberately. It had unnerved him finding Lola in his chambers, and telling Mary the story also caused him great unrest.
He watched in fascination as Mary's face morphed through various shades of red. She was angry, and in her anger she was beautiful. Her eyes darted about as her fingers clenched in fists repeatedly. Her nostrils flared and her mouth opened and shut as if she could not bring herself to say the words she wanted so desperately too. She had begun to suspect Lola was up to something, or harbored feelings for Bash, but she had not envisioned the infatuation going this far.
"What did she say?" Mary asked, teeth grinding on every word. Sebastian dropped his head slightly, before gesturing to the path in front them. Understanding the motion, Mary fell in to step besides Bash as he began to walk.
"I will start by saying I had come from a most unpleasant talk with my brother, so I was not in the best mood to find Lola, in my chambers," he paused, "in my bed."
"What?!" exclaimed Mary, this time not hesitating to grip Sebastian's arm tightly to stop his forward motion. He angled his body towards her, hoping her hand would stay on his arm as long as possible. He relished it's warmth through the fabric of his tunic, wishing to feel it's warmth directly on his skin. He sighed, tormented by thoughts that would nevermore come to fruition. He needed to focus on the matter at hand, not daydream.
"Mary, I am worried about her intentions. She more or less offered herself to me, so I would not 'ruin Lady Mary and bring disgrace to our great country'," quoted Sebastian. Those had been Lola's exact words. Had she seen them that night on the road? Or was she making an assumption? Bash had no answer to those questions, but knowing someone else knew was far more dangerous now than how she came to know in the first place.
"She has no right," started Mary, her voice rising in agitation.
"Mary, that is not the point. The problem is she knows there are feelings between us, and she sees me as an obstacle to your successful rule in France," Bash spoke softly, though the garden currently had no other ears.
"I am glad that is how you justify her behavior," snipped Mary, anger still flushing her cheeks a fruitful red.
"Then why else would she be there?" asked Bash honestly. Mary huffed, turning on her heel and storming further down the path. Mary knew why. All those subtle words and hidden statements she picked up from Lola were actually true. She was a jealous woman, but also very stubborn. It was a minute before she heard his hurried steps behind her, so she turned to face him.
"Do you not see, Bash? She is jealous of me. I am to marry the King, be Queen to not one but two countries," sighed Mary, needing to continue, "and I bear the burden of loving the King's general and not acting upon it," these words were softer, tears forming around her eyes. She wanted his arms to comfort her now, to be able to cry uninhibited into his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers. Glancing up, Mary knew he wished the same thing, and yet there they stood, space separating them like a castle moat.
"Do you trust her to not talk to anyone else?" Bash knew the question needed to be asked, afraid of how vindictive Lola might become, but Mary shook her head.
"She would not betray me," argued Mary.
"But you just said she is jealous of you. Jealously can turn even the most righteous person," Bash said sadly, "and anyways, she holds no such obligation of loyalty to me."
"Let me talk to her. I will make sure nothing like this happens again," Mary stood tall, every bit the embodiment of a Queen. Sebastian nodded, smiling at the beautiful young woman before him. "Oh Bash, before you go - the conversation with the King, you said it was unpleasant?"
Bash was hoping he could have gotten away from this conversation before Mary remembered. She did not need additional worries upon her shoulders.
"Never you mind, Mary, it was just a row between brothers," smiled Bash, the lie passing easily from his lips. Mary's gaze told him she knew that was not the truth, but she did not press him. She bid her goodbyes as he kissed her hand in parting, knowing she needed to find Lola.
"How dare you!" raged Mary, towering over a seated Lola before her.
"I was trying to save you any embarrassment, Mary. If anyone knew of your true feelings, it could be disastrous," moaned Lola.
"I thank you for your concern, Lola, but you have no idea what you are talking about. If I so much as hear one word that you tried to pull this stunt again you will be on the next boat to Scotland," Mary felt the anger within her, wanting to banish her now but refraining from doing so. Lola stood, facing Mary.
"It is not fair, you know, having both of them. Some day you will slip, but you will not be the only one falling," threatened Lola.
"Get out of my chambers!" ordered Mary, adding, "and do not come back until you are in a better state of mind."
Lola curtsied, her motions mocking, "Yes, Your Grace."
As her chamber door closed, Mary let out a muted scream. She thought Lola was loyal, but now she wondered if time had changed her friend. She had not seen this mocking behavior, or disrespectful attitude from her friend before. Mary had always wondered if they harbored any resentment towards her for pulling them away from their families in Scotland, living in isolation for so long in France. And yet now? Now they were barely unpacked in their new home, tensions mounting when they should have been happy.
"Mary?" Greer has appeared in the doorway, "it is time for lunch with the King."
Mary, in her anger, had almost forgotten she was to have lunch with Francis today. She smoothed her dress and took a calming breath.
"Thank you, Greer, I believe it is time."
"Ah Mary, my dear, how are you today," Francis spoke happily, rising to take Mary's hand and lead her into his private dining room. Mary was learning that most of Francis' rooms were complete as far as renovation, though a few windows were still boarded up.
"I am very well, Francis, thank you," Mary acknowledged, still unsure how to interact to the man, the King, she had only just met yesterday.
"Good," he replied, appearing unsure himself how to proceed, "shall we?"
Mary followed him to a small round table, a wide array of food choices laid out before her. It was not extravagant, by any means, but it was still more than she expected for a French court being rebuilt. They sat in silence, each picking a few items for their plate and eating softly. In between bites, Mary glanced at Francis. Yesterday had been a blur of names and faces, and she did not have the time to truly study the man before her. He was handsome, in a youthful way, his face void of signs of ruling, the lines of worry and weight of the kingdom. His hair curled around his face, a golden wave that added to his youthfulness. Despite being young, he looked like a King. His carried himself regally, his countenance proud.
He glanced up from his plate, his eyes meeting Mary's. He smiled cautiously, unsure the level of scrutiny he was receiving from the Queen before him. She grinned in return, and his face lightened.
"I am sorry, this has all been so abrupt I was not sure how to begin," Francis said honestly, chuckling.
Mary felt her smile widen, realizing he was just as nervous as she was. "I am glad I am not the only one who is nervous."
"Ha! Nervous does not begin to describe the flutters in my stomach," laughed Francis heartily, "so maybe I should start by asking something simple?" Mary nodded in agreement, her tension easing. "Good. Tell me about your time with the Lord and Lady Carme."
This was an easy topic for Mary to discuss, as the Carme's had been wonderful to her and her ladies. Soon, her plate of food was forgotten as she talked in length of her time in the small mountain town. Francis watched her hungrily, absorbing everything she said and responding with engaging questions. Several hours passed before Mary realized they had spent the entire afternoon talking. Outside of her time in conversation with Bash, speaking with Francis had easiest and most relaxing time in her life. It dawned on her that maybe marrying this King, this man, might be easier than she first thought.
"Mary, this has been a truly enlightening afternoon," Francis announced, "and I am looking forward to many more afternoons spent in this fashion."
His honesty shone through, and Mary felt relief flood through her body. Mary nodded, "I am looking forward to that as well, Francis."
"Good. Now, I have asked my brother to join us shortly. He will be giving you a complete tour of the Chateau," he paused, sensing the sudden shift in Mary's demeanor at the mention of Bash. He watched her temper her emotions quickly, and his eyes narrowed slightly. He remembered back to his brother's enthusiastic description of Mary, and the way he caught her staring in his brother's direction at the feast. She had spent a month in Bash's company, there was always the possibility she had developed some temporary feelings for him. Mary's voice brought him back to the conversation.
"I am looking forward to seeing the entire Chateau. The Duke spoke with such happiness about the work being completed here," the use of his brother's formal title did not go unnoticed by Francis. The happy young woman he spoken to for hours that afternoon had shifted back to a regal Queen.
"I am pleased," Francis smiled genuinely, choosing to not worry about Mary's emotional change earlier, "shall we go find my brother?"
Nodding, Mary accepted Francis' outstretched arm and stepped into his side as they walked. Her afternoon had been much more pleasant than she had anticipated, and as they walked in silence down the hall, the smile on Francis' face reflected her own sentiments.
I can do this, she thought. I can do this.
"How was your afternoon?" asked Bash, walking Mary through the art gallery, still under construction. Smiling, Mary spun her eyes around the room. There were a few portraits on the walls, many spots still vacant of any artwork.
"It was very pleasant actually," acquiesced Mary, stepping closer to Bash as they strolled, "he carries conversation easily, much like you do."
Bash smiled sheepishly, "He is easy to talk to," he paused, searching her face, "and thank you for the complement." The happiness spread from his smile to his eyes, and Mary admired how they gleamed when he was happy. He had stopped walking, looking up solemnly at a portrait.
"Who is this?" asked Mary, studying the kingly portrait before her. The man had been handsome, and seemed oddly familiar.
"King Henry, my father," replied Bash. Mary knew instantly why he appeared familiar, his features shone through in the man before her. She could also see the resemblance between Francis and his father. Both men could be likened to their father, but in very different ways.
"Do you miss him?" Mary wondered aloud, her eyes on Bash.
"At times I do. I miss his guidance. He did not shower us with affection, but he always knew the appropriate way to handle any situation," he acknowledged, remembering more the fireside chats than the hugs or handshakes. They continued walking the length of the room, Mary stopping to ask occasional questions about the portraits.
"Will there be anymore paintings?"
"Once we start recalling the nobles to court, then yes. My father divided many of the court valuables amongst the nobles, hoping that once the war was over they would return them to court. He would have rather had them in the hands of other Frenchmen than in the hands of the emperor," Bash remembered.
"Well then, the sooner we can recall them to court the better," remarked Mary, eager to see the former items restored to their rightful places. "You have been a wonderful tour guide so far, I am eager to see what is next." Bash laughed, and steered Mary down out of the gallery and down the hall.
Mary quickly learned which areas were completed, which few were nearly complete, and the areas that would take longer to finish. The great hall had been complete before Sebastian left, tall windows lining the outer walls and a working fireplace. Mary had noticed the boarded windows in Francis' rooms, and Bash had replied they would be installed soon. Her rooms were complete, as were her ladies, though they lacked much decoration. That, Bash admitted, would be left to Mary. In fact, Mary realized that commissioning artwork, or tapestries, or even furniture would be part of her royal duties. She looked forward to the challenge.
Continuing the tour, Mary learned the soldiers quarters were near completion outside the main Chateau. Between the outer wall and the Chateau was an open market place, where the local merchants and peasants could sell their wares. The idea for the market place had been Sebastian's, and though Francis initially rejected the plan, he now accepted and encouraged the market. Also almost complete were extensions to the servants quarters, and rooms for the nobles who would returning to court. Behind the Chateau, Sebastian's biggest endeavor was a gleaming chapel. It was half complete, and Bash acknowledged it would be awhile before work would be able to resume on the beautiful structure.
"It is beautiful," Mary whispered, straining to see the details through the Chateau windows. Bash did not say anything, but Mary could feel the smile radiating from his face.
"There is one more thing I need to show you," muttered Bash, as they turned and continued down the hall. He stopped in front of Mary's chambers, and she laughed.
"My chambers? I have become fairly acquainted with them over the past day and a half," she chuckled, wondering what Sebastian might be thinking.
"Have you?" there was a twinkle in his eye, but his face remained serious. Mary realized he was waiting for her to open the door, and so she did, motioning Bash to follow her. Her ladies were not present, leaving the two companions standing in silence. The door clicked shut, and Mary turned to protest, but Bash shock his head. He walked to the corner of her room, between a currently empty bookshelf and the fireplace. He beckoned her over.
"What is this about, Bash?" Mary questioned. There had been one tapestry in Mary's room when she arrived, and she watched Bash pull it aside. He reached for her hand, his fingers caressing hers and he placed them on the wall. She felt the coldness of a lock, a slight pressure as Bash turned her hand in his, and then an abrupt coldness. There was a door in the wall. Bash stepped through the opening, still keeping Mary's hand in his grasp, and pulling her behind him into the darkened passageway.
"There are a few hidden passageways within the Chateau, remnants of an older time. I have secured and reinforced them myself," he stuttered in the dark, the light from Mary's room the only brightness in the damp passage, "I need to show you this in case anything ever happens. You have a direct route outside the castle."
"Is the threat truly that real?" whispered Mary, a chill running through her body that was not due to the chilly damp.
"Let me get a light," he announced, reaching into the dark and retrieving a torch from the wall. He disappeared into her room, emerging quickly with the torch lit. Instinctively, she grasped his free hand, entwining their fingers. She pulled herself close against his side, the darkness of the passageway striking fear within her.
"No need to worry, Mary, there are very few people who know about these passages. Francis, myself, and now you, know of its existence," he murmured in the dark. He walked slowly, keeping Mary close by his side. Stopping at a door, he motioned to Mary, "this will take you to Francis' room."
"Wait, I thought his rooms were on the opposite side?" Mary asked, having visited what she thought were his suite of rooms for lunch earlier.
"Currently, yes, but this will be his rooms once you are married. These are meant to be the King and Queen suites," Sebastian uttered, continuing down the passage. They walked a while, taking a few turns, before he stopped again, "and this is the throne room. Should something happen, you and Francis can exit to safety quickly. I will show you the exit shortly."
The hair on Mary's neck prickled, and she had the strange sensation someone was watching her. Or watching them.
"This is the end of the tunnel on this side of the Chateau. This room," he pulled his hand from Mary's, touching the door slightly, "is mine. Should you need anything, do not hesitate," the words held no implications, as he meant the words in all honesty. If she needed anything, she knew where to find him. Built in to each of the secret passageway doors was a small sliding window, a means to verify the occupancy of the room. Mary filed everything away, hoping she could remember the way.
"Now, if we go this way, there is a door that leads to the dungeons and out of the castle," added Sebastian, turning Mary away from his door and down a different darkened passage.
Behind them, a shadow shifted in the darkness. Sebastian and Mary kept walking, oblivious to the motions or presence behind them. The darkness consumed the words spoken next, the syllables never reaching their intended target.
"Yes, Mary, the threat is very real indeed," the deep voice mumbled, "and guard your heart, or you will betray us all."