Fury

Fury. Fury like she'd never known before. It pooled in her feet, wrapped around her legs like fiery serpents approaching their prey. The anger escalated higher and higher, scalding her insides and trickling up her fingers. A burning chest heaved with the fury. It concluded with the hatred and mistrust and heartbreak. It creeped up her neck, her skin burning to the touch. Soon, she drowned in the anger and hatred and despisement. It brought her breathable harsh and shallow, loud until they were snarls and wails.

The parchment she held in her left hand, gently skimming down the onyx tulle, charcoal satin and scarlet chiffon of her skirts. It was not a comfort in comparison to the burn of hatred that had ravaged the porcelain skin just moments ago.

Heaved breaths regenerated into shrieks of anger and betrayal as she spun around, skirts blooming like a flower in spring. Long and thin fingers grappled for a gold candlestick, lengthy nails digging into the soft skin of her palm as her fingers tightened around it. She growled at it, spinning around to face that mirror once more.

Fury burned her throat as a loud scream left her lips, the candlestick leaving her hand and shattering the glass into a million pieces. The sound of it shattering was deafening, but the Queen was deaf to it.

She collapsed to her knees on the rugged crimson floor. Another wail left her lips, this one a lucid cocktail of fiery anger and fierce heartbreak. She seethed harshly, trembling violently with the reaction of those scribbles of ink and a slither of a long dead tree.

The door banged open and heels crunched against the maroon carpeting. Mary continued to wail on vain, cheeks wet even though she didn't remember crying. She gripped her long raven locks, yanking them roughly and running her hands through them methodically. Her impressive crown of silver and diamonds fell crocked and clanged on the floor with loud effort, jewels sewn into the ringlets and locks yanking at the roots painfully, but the Queen felt no pain.

"Mary!" Kenna cried out, falling to her knees beside her Queen, a blonde in emerald at the other. The Queen of Scotland and France cried out in anger and betrayal as the pain became unbearable. She rocked back and forth on her knees, the burning fury simmering into a deep scald of betrayal. "Good God, what has happened?" Kenna cried, pulling her Queen into her arms as their blonde companion retrieved that piece of parchment, ink and wax.

My dearest Mary, it read. I write to you to inform you of my recent decision regarding my son, Jean Philippe. It is my judgement that he should be gifted the title Dauphin of France, along with his Barony of Velay. Due to the lack of fruit from our being wed, I believe this is a judgement that this will settle my country as we face the most dire circumstances of unsuitability of the future.

I am aware that this decision will have displeased you, my Queen and an not so foolish to think otherwise. However, should your Majesty and myself ever produce a healthy male heir, I do believe the matter of heirship to the French throne will be deliberated and will most likely be passed onto your Majesties and I's son, not my own with your highness's Lady in Waiting, the Lady Lola.

I am aware that your highness, along with Baroness de Portiers and Madam Greer of Kinross, has travelled to Callas without my permission. I am also aware that the Lady Lola was not consulted upon your trip. If the case of this is because her ladyship and I share a son, I must remind your Grace that the Lady Lola has not, nor ever will be, claimed as my mistress. I am not so foolish to think that this is any sort of consolation for your Majesty, but I do enjoy to think that this is a comfort, as much as I can provide at this time.

I hope that her Majesty will return to Fontblenau Palace soon enough, so I may quash any amounts of fear or uncertainty your highness may have.

All my love,

King Francis II, King of France and Scotland.

~~

Hey!

Okay, what is it with me and sad Frary? I hate it on the show but for some reason, I write it so much more frequently than happy Frary. I don't understand and don't like it just as much as my fellow Frary shippers. How about that load of Frary pain for you, then?

It sounds really horrible, but I really don't think that this is that far fetched in the show. I think if Francis lived longer and Mary still hadn't had a child, I can't help but think that he actually would have legitimised his bastard. The sheer fact that he was a boy and Mary still hadn't had a baby yet may have been one of the reasons why he claimed it in the first place. And even if Mary had had his legitimate heir and he lived past 3x05, John/Jean would have had a claim to the throne and that may have caused a war later in Mary's son's reign. Call me crazy, but I can't help but think that this could have happened, no matter how much I hate that fact.

But, if you guys got that far into the story, I have something nice in store for you all. I have a few prompts for quite a few happy Frary concepts and it's got my creative juices flowing. So, I'm happy to announce that in hopefully not very long, I'll have a happy Frary one shot for you all! Finally!!

Shouldn't be too much longer until I publish my first one. And if you guys want a little spoiler, there may or may not be a Frary baby (wink, wink) :P.

Love you all and once again, sorry for the Frary pain!

C

:)