Ceaseless

2

The bond between her son and his confidante scared Catherine de Medici, if she stated the truth. The silent connection the duo held went far deeper than the one she shared with Henry, or even the one she shared with her own children. They could communicate without words, a mere look could settle each of them, let alone a gentle caress of the hand. It rejuvenated her hatred of the young Scot, for her son had obviously turned from his devoted mother and to this strange, enchanting, siren like creature with the softest raven locks and the most beautiful blue-green eyes she had ever seen. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Francis was supposed to listen to her and nobody but her, to trust her like no other, to rely on her council and knowledge. But he didn't. He listened only to Mary. Just like he always had.

Take the time she had seen them both training. Far from the regular day-to-day of the Queen of Scotland's ladies, whom could contently spend days talking over a picnic or embroidering soft fabrics, reading from Latin texts or trying on pretty dresses, the Queen of Scotland spent her free moments with a sword in her hand and a bow at her eye. Her fiance -or so they thought- at her side as they swung the silver at each other. Their technique, capability and skill even unsettled the King of France, who had watched his son turn from the little French boy he had known into this fearless, intelligent and, what could only be described as, Scot. With the true Scot at his side, the hair haired, blue eyed future King could achieve greatness.

But the time that mostly stuck out in the Queen of France's mind was when the royal procession travelled North for the Christmas festivities. There had been a storm, and the royal procession had been separated from the guards. In feet of snow, the Queen of France had been hysterical at the news of separation and isolation, yet the King knew when to pick his battles and simply followed the Queen of Scotland and her future King as they started to move. And, without choice, the Queen followed.

Thankfully, Mary had the mind to sleep near a sled, and her tamed wolves that followed her everywhere could act legitimate sled dogs. And so, with the Medici Queen laying across the sled and the Queen of Scots managing the sled, whilst the Kings followed upon foot, they started to travel miles upon miles of their own accord. They survived upon basic rations and ate heartily whenever Francis found a legitimate point to fish for some food. It had been basic nonstop snow storms at points during their voyage, only occurring true danger at one point.

They had found a point to rest, at the storm's worst points. An igloo had formed from the snow and ice, and it had provided enough refuge for their decision to camp there for the night. Mary had been drying the firewood and unleashing the wolves from their harnesses as Francis talked to his parents about where they were and where he and his future wife had been, when they had all heard a loud growl that definitely didn't come from the wolves.

A great beast had hidden in the shadows of -what both Francis and Mary realised too late, was a too big to be safe igloo- and had launched itself right for the future King of France. Seeing this, Mary launched herself in it's way, starting to scrap with the large animal. Henry and Catherine had cried out, watching the two of them bite and tear and scratch and claw and snarl at each other, fighting like dogs or wolves. Their altercation had come to an end when Francis had launched an arrow into the great beasts' heart. It had died with a screech, and Mary had hobbled out from under the carcass that would be considered dinner for the rest of their excursion. She had stood long enough to look her love in the eye, before she collapsed into the snow.

Francis had rid her of her torn, bloody clothing and had rested her on his lap, cleaning the wounds the beast had caused with a gentle tenderness. After lighting the fire, Catherine had stared at the soft scene with softening eyes and a softening heart. Henry did the same, whilst cutting apart the great beast to cook it over the fire.

They had listened to Francis murmur to his love in a quiet, strange tounge as he pressed the wet cloth to her wounds, more specifically the deepest one by her neck and shoulder.

"Tapadh leibh, a ghaoil," he had murmered. "Tha thu a h-uile càil dhomhsa, agus cha toir mi suas ort, mar nach tug thu a-riamh seachad orm."

"What did you say to her?" Henry had asked, as Mary reached up a hand, a trembling one, to interlock with his own, speaking to him without words, as the Queen always had the ability to do. Catherine's own hand upon Henry's bisep quieted her husband, and the two of them stayed silent as they cooked and ate the great beast, or part of the large mammal. The wolves had eaten ravenously, and Francis only took in food after his love did, and only spoke when she had fallen asleep on his lap.

"What happened to you?" Catherine begged quietly, watching the young woman sleep upon her son's lap.

"It is a story that will only be shared with her consent, but I will reveal this, mother, father." Francis had replied after several seconds of silence. Henry and Catherine had looked up at this. "On our way back to Edinburgh, to safety, we found a priest walking along the road. He married us, mother, father. Mary and I are wed."

It was only that that softened the Queen of France's heart to the Dauphiness of France. After all, a woman's son was only a woman's son until he found himself a wife.

~~

Hey!

I really loved this chapter, and have had the idea of this chapter in my head for what feels like months. Originally, it was supposed to be it's own entity, but it fit in with this little one shot, so here ya go! I'm probably not gonna update this again, so here's the finishing piece! Hope you liked it, comments please!

Also, Francis said "Thank you, my love." and "You are everything to me, and I will not give up on you, as you never gave up on me." in that Scottish Gaelic line, so enjoy the devoted Frary!

Love you all,

C

:)