Tu Es Ma Lumière

57 - Return

This was a very, very unusual scene, the Dauphin could admit as he walked into the throne room. His father's squire, Pierre, had sent for him just before Olivia could explain to him that they were rather busy at this time. But even if she had, the squire had an odd sense of no nonsense about him, and an urgency that told the future King of France that he had no choice in the matter, and best see to it that the King's request was conducted quickly.

His mother sat upon her throne as tersely as ever, staring down at the courtyard of the throne room with disgust, as she always would and always had. Her arms were resting on the armrests, staring intently at those below her, both in literal sense and rank. As he approached, Olivia upon his arm, they could both hear the echoes of cries and the putrid sound of metal hitting against metal, the shrill scream as it scraped together. Olivia, donned in a golden gown that shimmered in the sunlight, tightened her grip upon the crook of his arm when they saw a young woman with raven hair prancing around with the bastard son of France, both holding blades in their hands. Even Olivia looked down upon her, taking note of the long legs and arms covered in leather riding crops and a black tunic that looked rather big upon the toned, yet slender and curvy body.

That wasn't what held his -and court's- attention. No, it was the tall ravenette in a dark blue satin gown. Her jewels were fine, her hair pilled up upon her head in an intricate braided bun. But the woman literally looked down at the King of France, even having the gaul to stick a finger in his face and berate him in loud tones that would surely lead her to loose her head, least of all her tongue. Her words were large and loud, enraged like Francis had never seen a woman in such a rage before. She was shrieking and squaking at the ageing king louder and louder with every passing word, her fury surprisingly not causing steam to rise from each of her ears.

What was even more surprising was that the King -his father, the King of France- was shrinking before the woman's enraged gaze and even more enraged voice. He was slowly sliding down his throne, not looking the angry woman in the eye. Perhaps not having the nerve to, perhaps even fearful of the woman who was standing over him and berating him like no woman had ever berated him before. Perhaps Catherine had, but Francis wasn't sure. Sure, Henry could hear his hated wife at times, but even the fierce de Medici woman had never established this amount of fear from the King before.

"You caused this!" the woman shrieked loudly. "You caused this! I blame you for every bit of my daughter's suffering over the last years!" she screamed, Francis now able to understand the angry Frenchwoman's words. They had been so full of rage and rapid that he hadn't had the ability to decipher them until now. "You swore to me that you would keep her safe when I gave you her to protect! And I find out that you not only did nothing of the sort, but you lit the flame! You are the catalyst, Henry! I do not blame England half as much as I blame you! You bastard!" she shrieked. "They took her and they tortured her! Because of you! Because of you! How could you be so foolish, man?!"

Francis swore he saw Catherine send the woman an approving glance over her shoulder, but she didn't try and step in to defend her King. Nobody did, actually. Not Henry's personal guard, no nobleman, nobody. 

Francis' gaze was drawn to the mysterious brunette who was throwing around her sword with his half brother. An odd sight, for sure, for it was not usual to see a woman holding a sword. And, by the looks of it, she really, really knew how to use it. Sebastian, one of the best swordsman in French Court could barely keep up with her.

The girls' identity was a secret to the Dauphin, although by the looks of it, Olivia felt threatened by this new addition to French Court. Her hand on his arm tightened as she looked the young woman up and down. Her raven hair was very, very long, almost down to her hips, securely held back in a tight braid that looked like it belonged in a Viking textbook. He couldn't see her face, for she spun too quickly for him to get a good look, and when she was still, she stood with her back to him. Her voice was somewhat familiar as she yelled out whenever she slung her sword against Sebastian's particularly hard. From what he could tell, this girl was from nobility, if the silver diadem nestled tightly onto the front of her face and hair was anything to go by. Small silver lines were nestled into her hair in unique shaped lines, a strawberry sized diamond laying on her forehead, glittering in every colour whenever the sun shone on it right. On her feet, a pair of black leather boots with black satin and velvet designs all over them. They didn't squeak as she sparred with Sebastian, in fact holding her own, if not dominating the small match they seemed to be having.

The woman's verbal rant towards his father was ceased as the young woman let out a cry with a rapid spin, knocking Sebastian's sword out of his hand. It spun a few feet on it's own, a loud squeak leaving the sword as it scattered over the flooring.

"Impressive," Sebastian grinned widely. The young woman nodded at him in a courteous nod that was probably more teasing than dutiful. 

"Francis," Henry gruffed. "You've finally arrived. Greet your fiancee." he mumbled.

The pair of blonde's froze as the ravenette turned around, her sharp featured instantly locking upon he and his girlfriend. She rose a perfectly tweaked black eyebrow.

"Well, well, well." she started, sauntering over towards he and Olivia. "My fiancee and his whore." she identified. "Always a pleasure." 

"M-Mary."

~~

Again, no idea what this is, just a random impulse that I thought was a pretty unique AU. Please give me some comments!

Stay safe,

love,

me

:).