Tu Es Ma Lumière

45 - Triplets

"Your Majesty, you must eat." the Lady Lola pleads to the Queen of Scotland. The mother of King Francis' bastard child wears black as she observed his defeated wife. All that fire that she had directed towards Elizabeth was gone now. All that was left was somebody that looked a lot like the fiery Queen of Scotland, apart from the sunken in cheeks and the skin that stretched in a way that spoke of ill health. "Please," she pleaded again. "you haven't eaten a morsel in days, you've been regurgitating, you're withering away before our very eyes."

"Go away." she moans, curling up into the pillow. "Leave me be." she spits at her, burying her face into the pillows of her new, cold chambers. Lola lets out another sob, placing the bowl of hot soup and goblet warm tea at Mary's bedside table.

"Please, Mary. Francis would want you to be cared for as you grieve him! Don't let yourself suffer so." she pleads.

"What do you know about suffering? Hmm? Or has Narciesse caught you under his spell so much that you can't see the fact that he's sleeping with Catherine right under your nose again?" she spits. "Are you under his spell that you can see nothing but him, the avenging angel? Or do you take pleasure in the fact that you've finally taken everything from me? You win, okay? You got his child, you have position and safety in France, you're married to a man you don't even know. I have nothing." she moans into the pillows.

"Please, you don't mean that-"

"Get out!" Mary screams, throwing the hot silver mug towards that stupid little whore. Lola gasps in surprise, ducking the incoming impromptu weapon. "Get out of my sight!" she screams again, a burning fire of hatred smouldering her very soul as she looked at the former King's rumoured whore.

This time, Lola doesn't disobey.

~~

"Come, my dear." Catherine states, walking into Mary's chambers another day. The chambers are dark, the curtains drawn, no warmth or light coming from the harth of the fire, or from the candles. She walks the invisible path over to Mary's bed, pulling the covers back from the limp lump that used to be the strong Queen of Scotland and France. "Let's get you some fresh air, hmm?" her voice cracks. "It'll do you the world of good."

"No." Mary moans from the bed, pushing Catherine's little hands away. They're cold, Mary realises, pushing her mother in law -is she still?- away from her.

"Mary," she uses that stern tone that she had used whenever she was in trouble as a child. Not that it unnerved the tiny Queen of Scotland, however. She was rather used to a cold mother figure, what was another one going to hurt? "Now." she hisses.

"Go away." Mary used that same tone. Catherine de Medici couldn't order her around, Mary had never bowed to her. Not once.

"I will not." she hisses back. "Your servants tell me that you haven't asked for food in months, that each thing that is forced down your throat comes back up in a matter of minutes. That you haven't asked for your ladies to dress you or bathe you in just as long. Mary, you cannot become weak at a time like this. I cannot have another dead child upon my hands." Catherine begged. Hearing the sincere remorse and worry in Catherine's voice, Mary peaked her head up from the pillows and turned to look at the woman who -for better or for worse- had more or less risen her. 

"Sit up." Catherine demands. Without knowing why, Mary sat up upon the bed. Catherine rushed around, opening the curtains, letting the light into the chambers. Mary winced like a vampire as the sunlight hit her skin, closing her eyes until Catherine gasped at her.

"G-good God!" she gasps. "Mary, you look awful!"

Mary rolls her eyes at her mother in law, falling back against the pillows.