Hearts Afraid Of Breaking Chapter 74: Tied Together With A Smile (Mary-Brandon, a tudors fanfic

A/N: Hi, GreenField here. My collaborator was making me feel guilty, so here's one I was debating for a while -Princess Mary (Henry's daughter, not his sister) and Charles Brandon to Taylor Swift's Tied Together with a Smile. Please review!

Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty
Is the face in the mirror looking back at you
You walk around here thinking you're not pretty
But that's not true, 'cause I know you

Mary smoothed her dress, black in mourning for her mother, and studied her face. She was pale and peaky with eyes red from copious weeping; her brown hair hung loosely around her face, and she was so slender she looked as though she hadn't eaten for weeks. And maybe she hadn't – she definitely couldn't remember her last meal. She knew she looked hideous. But she owed it to her mother to keep smiling, hold her head high and wait for her destiny to be fulfilled. It was the duty of the granddaughter of Ferdinand and Isabella, the duty of Catherine of Aragon's daughter.

Plus, she would not let the brat Elizabeth see her cry.

"You look very well, my Lady"

Mary turned slowly, her face colouring as she recognised the deep, reassuring voice of the man she knew had always supported her over the Boleyn harlot. Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk; the man who made Mary's blood boil with desire rather than hate.

"My lord Suffolk" she inclined her head slightly; she knew she ought to curtsey but she could not quite bring herself to do it, not even for him, "A kind untruth. I have been in deep grieving for my mother, but am recovering now"

"You should not rush grieving. It makes it more difficult to cope with later on" his voice was soft, and she felt a vile rush of jealousy for his dead wife, her beautiful Aunt the first Princess Mary. How could she envy a dead woman? It seemed so wrong to do so.

"It is as the people expect of me"

"I am aware" he lips quirked slightly at her haughty retort, "And I believe that the people will be satisfied with your facade. You look as lovely as ever"

She gasped; for a moment, she merely stammered and blushed. She turned her back to him so he could not see her face.

"What facade?"

Hold on baby, you're losing it
The water's high, you're jumping into it
And letting go and no one knows
That you cry but you don't tell anyone
That you might not be the golden one
And you're tied together with a smile
But you're coming undone

He laughed, he could not help it – she sounded angry that he had dared suggest she might not be as happy and well as she always seemed.

"It may work very well for the common people, my Lady, the smile you force as you give out alms and wish them good health, but do not forget that I am a courtier. A courtier who has known you since birth, no less. And I can tell when you are unhappy"

"What induces you to believe that you know my feelings so well?" she turned back to face him; her blush had receded and she was doing it again, the smile that she smiled for duty, not for real mirth.

"I come to see you very often, do I not?"

"You come to see the little bastard" the words had slipped out before she could stop them, and she clapped a hand to her mouth, but Charles merely laughed bitterly.

"You see? You can be yourself with me, but you don't realise that you are doing it. You sense, instinctively, that I understand you. That I empathise with you. That I can see you are holding yourself together will all your might and it is only a matter of time before you crumble"

Mary gave another gasp; never had a man spoken to her so abruptly, so bluntly, before, "I – my Lord – "

"See? I know you better than you could ever have suspected"

"You don't know anything about me" her mother's fiery Spanish temper was beginning to rise within her, and her face was mottled with anger.

"I know that you cry when you think no-one can hear you"

"Anyone might have guessed that" she retorted sharply, "My mother has just died, my Lord Suffolk"

"Very well, then. I know that you crave the love of your father more than anything –that you long to, once again, be his pearl"

I guess it's true that love was all you wanted
'Cause you're giving it away like it's extra change
Hoping it will end up in his pocket
But he leaves you out like a penny in the rain
Oh, 'cause it's not his price to pay
Not his price to pay

Mary had frozen. She was trembling with rage, and her lower lip was wobbling. She pressed her fingertips to her lips to hold back the sobs.

"How-How do you know? Can everyone see it?"

"No" his voice had softened to a tone of unexpected gentleness, "Just me. Because I know you. I see it in your eyes whenever he comes to visit – you see him mollycoddling the little Princess and you remember the days when you were the apple of his eye, as she is now. You look at him like a puppy begging for food, desperate for affection. Desperate for love"

"You are being too forward, my Lord"

"Am I?" he took a step closer to her, "I'm only saying what we both know to be true. And, while we are on the subject, I know too how desperately you long to be loved"

"My Lord!"

"I know because I understand your longings" his voice was forlorn; Mary's eyes fixed on his.

"You have a wife" her voice was bitter.

"Oh, Mary, Mary, quite contrary. A woman now, but still so much a child in your heart"

"Don't speak to me like that"

"Why not? Someone has to break down that gilt cage you have built around your heart. Someone has to; else you'll come completely undone"

"And you wish to be that someone?"

"Don't be silly, Mary. We both know that I already am that someone"

They were so close now that, had she desired to, Mary could have counted the freckles that scattered his face from the time he spent in sunshine sporting pursuits. She wondered if he could see how bloodshot her eyes were, the swirl of dark colours underneath her eyes from lack of sleep.

"Adultery is a sin"

"Who said anything about adultery?" he couldn't help but grin at the horror on her face when he said that, "Now we know what you've been thinking, young Madam"

"I didn't – " she began, mortified, but he cut her off.

"Don't be embarrassed. I come here so often to see you, Mary. To let you know that there will always be someone, somewhere, on your side. To stop you from drowning in all those emotions you keep bottled up"

"So, my Lady – my Mary" he inclined his head towards hers; his warm breath brushed her cheek, light as a feather-touch, "May I kiss you?"

She bit her lip, indecisive, and looked at him. He seemed to be serious. He really did look as though he wanted to kiss her.

"Is this another of Francis Bryan's jokes? Did he send you here to seduce me?" she coloured, "Because if he has, I want nothing to do with it, please – "

"It's not a joke, you foolish girl"

And before Mary had time to be horrified at the fact that she had just been called a foolish girl for the first time in her life, he had pressed his lips to hers.

And she felt herself rising out of the water's depths, rising out of the drowning deep, to be rescued by his loving embrace.