#Francis Valois Moment | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

trashcanband4 · 2 years

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The Bastards Ch. 5

The Bastards Masterlist

Maisie was in the stables brushing down Hemera when a man came in and looked around spotting her alone since all the stable hands and the rest of able-bodied men in the castle had left with the king to put down some village unrest. Bash was supposed to go with them, but given recent events he didn’t feel up to it. Instead he and Maisie made plans to go riding and have another private self defense lesson. “You there.” the man in a uniform she didn’t recognize snapped at her. “Who are you?”

“I’m one of Queen Mary’s ladies in waiting.” Maisie answered, taking a step back as he walked over to her.

“Put your horse away and come with me.” he told her stiffly.

“You’re not one of the palace guards. Who are you?” Maisie asked as she took another step back and petted Hemera’s neck, calming the horse that could sense Maisie’s tension.

“Count Vincent now controls the castle,” he answered, “all women and children must return to their quarters until negotiations are complete.”

“Negotiations?” She asked with a frown.

“Return your horse. Don’t make me ask again.” the man told her sternly. So she led Hemera back into her stall and closed the door then followed the man.

RRRRRRRRRR

“Maisie, there you are. We were worried about you.” Mary said as she took Maisie’s hand and pulled her into her chambers and away from the man escorting her.

“Where have you been?” Kenna asked.

“I was in the stables, Bash and I were supposed to go riding.” Maisie answered, then looked at Mary. “What is going on, who is Count Vincent and how did he gain control of the castle?”

“Not even a year ago King Henry was at war with the Italians. He held Count Vincent's son, Roberto, for ransom. After the count paid for Roberto he died before he made it home. Count Vincent has returned for restitution. And he wants all of us to join him for a feast this evening.” Mary filled her in. “Have you seen Greer?”

“No.” Maisie answered. “Have you seen Bash? He never arrived at the stables.”

Mary shook her head no.

After waiting for hours to hear something a knock came from the door and one of the counts men let Greer inside. She was dressed in common clothes with her hair braided back out of her face. A tray of food was in her hands. She bowed before the door was shut and she set down the tray on the table by the door. “Greer, are you alright?” Lola asked.

“I can’t stay long. I’ve been in the kitchen.” Greer explained as Kenna and Maisie hugged her, relieved that she was okay.

“Why are you dressed like a servant?” Kenna asked.

“Servants are invisible. I thought I’d be safer as one of them so I borrowed some clothes.” Greer explained as Kenna and Maisie let her go.

“So you’re actually working in the kitchen?” Kenna asked.

“Trying to work. I’m making rather a mess of it.” Greer answered. “What’s going on up here? Are you alright?”

“For the moment.” Lola answered. “All we can do is wait to find out if the queen and Francis will strike a bargain with the count.”

“But I have never been good at waiting.” Mary stepped in.

“Tell us something we don’t know.” Maisie mumbled, getting a smirk from Greer and Kenna.

“Stay here.” Mary told her ladies then headed to her bed chamber.

“Where are you going?” Maisie asked as she followed after her.

“I know a safe way out of the castle through these tunnels.” She explained. “I’m going to mark it with chalk and then I'm going to meet with Catherine and figure out how to get all of us out of here.” she opened a secret door behind her dressing screen then disappeared inside.

RRRRRRRRRR

After visiting Catherine, Mary returned and filled her ladies in. Catherine had offered the count Mary's hand so that he could have new, royal Ares, but Francis offered himself. It was clear after that, that Count Vincent aimed to end the Valois line. So the two queens devised a plan.

During the count’s feast, after all the maids, servants, women and children had made it out through the passageways, Mary would make an excuse to get them all out of the dining room so they too could escape.

Maisie placed her hand over her stomach at the news of Count Vincent's intentions. Mary noticed. "Maisie, I know this is going to be difficult and that you're scared, but I assure you, we will all make it out safely."

"It's not myself I'm frightened for." Maisie argued. "If the count intends on ending the Valois line that includes Bash. What if they know his connection to the king, what if they've already-?" She couldn't make herself finish the sentence.

"I'm sure he's fine." Mary tried to comfort her friend. "He's probably hiding away somewhere."

A knock came from the door, it opened and one of the counts men stepped in. “I’m looking for Lady Maisie. I was told she would be with Queen Mary.” Kenna, Lola, Maisie and Aylee grouped together, holding onto one another.

“Who sent you for her?” Mary asked.

“Is she here, or not?” the man snapped.

“That depends on what you want from her.” Mary snapped back.

The man placed his hand on his sword and took a step forward. “Mary, it’s fine, I’ll go.” Maisie said as she stepped out of her friends hold on her. The man motioned her out of the door so she did as asked. “May I please know what you want with me?” Maisie asked timidly as she followed the man.

He didn’t answer until they entered the dungeons. “I was originally paid to imprison you with the king’s bastard and insure that both of you stay safe, but seeing as you have been invited to the counts feast I can’t keep you without alerting the count to my betrayal.” the man explained.

“Paid? By who?” Maisie asked with a frown.

“Diane de Poitiers.” He answered. “When I informed her that I could not fulfill that part of our bargain she paid me extra to show you that your love is and will be safe.” he unlocked a door and opened it, revealing Bash, chained to the wall by a shackle around his neck.

“Maisie.” Bash tried to rush to her, but got pulled back by the shackle. She rushed to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Are you alright?” he asked as he grabbed her face and looked it over.

Maisie looked back at the man guarding them. “Would you give us a minute alone?” the man nodded and closed the door, putting them in darkness. The only light came from the small barred window of the door. Maisie looked out the window to see that the man had given them enough space to talk without being overheard. “I’m fine.” she whispered. “Count Vincent, an Italian with revenge on his mind, has taken over the castle. Henry ended his family line so he wants to erase his…I feared the count knew about you and had already chopped off Diane's branch of Henry's tree."

Bash sighed and covered his face with his hands. "We can't let him hurt them. You've got to get me out of here."

"We're not going to let the count hurt them. Mary and Queen Catherine made a plan and if it goes accordingly we will all be fine.”

“What plan?” Bash asked quietly.

“While Catherine, Mary and us ladies are at the feast the count is throwing tonight, Francis is going to escape and get everyone out of the castle. When the time is right Mary is going to come up with an excuse to get us out of the room so we can escape through the tunnels as well. Catherine is going to stay behind and keep the count distracted.” Maisie explained.

“Catherine…the noble martyr? I can't believe it.” Bash argued.

“I couldn’t believe it either at first. But considering that not just Francis’s life, but the life of all her sons, are on the line I can. She would throw herself into the flames before she’d let something happen to one of her children.” Maisie pointed out. “Besides, the woman’s a master of poisons, she may very well have a card up her sleeve for herself.”

Bash grabbed her face in his hands. "You have to get me out of here."

"And how do you suggest I do that?" She asked.

"Did you pass many soldiers on your way here?" He asked.

"A few in the hallways, this man is the only one down here. I think a majority of them are getting ready for the feast." She answered, taking his hands in hers.

"Do you think you can knock this man out and get the keys?" He asked and she looked uncertain. "You've done well in training."

"I've been cooperative so far. I don't think he'll expect an attack from me, but what if I fail?" She asked, looking scared.

"You won't." He assured her with a pointed look into her eyes. "You can do it, I know you can."

A knock sounded at the door before it was unlocked and the man opened the door. “Times up.”

Maisie stood on her toes and caught Bash's lips in a kiss, trying to gain the courage to do what needed to be done. When the kiss broke she turned and walked out of the cell. The man shut the door then looked at her so she motioned for him to lead the way. Thankfully he did and as soon as she was behind him she lifted her skirts a little and kicked him in the back of his leg. As soon as he fell to his knees she kicked between his shoulder blades as hard as she could and he fell face first into the stone floor. Straddling his back she grabbed his head and slammed his temple into the floor, knocking the man out cold.

With a shaking hand she unhooked the ring of keys from his belt and unlocked the door. As soon as she was close enough, Bash grabbed her face and gave her a celebratory kiss. "I knew you could do it." He laughed when the kiss broke.

"Don't celebrate yet. We still need to get you out of this before someone else shows up." She scolded as she started trying keys on the shackle around his neck. "When I do get you free, what will you do?" She asked.

"I'll go find Francis. Help him get everyone out then I'll come for you." Bash answered.

"No, Bash, you can't come back." She argued as she put a key into the hole. "The plan will only work if the count remains unaware that something is going on." She turned the key and the shackle popped open. "If you come back you will be outnumbered and I can't lose you."

Bash cupped her cheek in his hand. "I won't leave without you. If you don't make it to the tunnels I will come back for you. I can't lose you either." He left the cell and went to the still passed out man. He rolled him over, took his sword then grabbed him by his feet, dragged him into the cell then locked him in. "Go back to Mary and your friends, stay safe and remember what you're capable of. Don't let fear paralyze you."

"I won't, as long as you promise to be careful." She replied.

"For you, always." Bash said as he put the strap of the sheathed sword over him then pecked her on the lips. "Go, the sooner you're back with Mary and your friends, the better."

She nodded and left.

RRRRRRRRRR

“What was that about?” Kenna asked when Maisie came back into Mary’s chambers.

“That man brought me to Bash. He was locked up in the dungeons.” Maisie answered. “Diane paid him to insure his safety. But I freed him. He's going to find Francis and help him get everyone out.”

"You freed him?" Lola asked disbelievingly.

"Bash has been teaching me to defend myself." Maisie shrugged. "And that man was the only one down there."

"That's what you two have been doing when you disappear together, fighting?" Aylee asked with raised brows.

"After the pagans marked me for sacrifice we both thought it a good idea." Maisie answered.

“We must start getting ready.” Mary told them.

They were about to head to their chambers when Catherine was let into the room. They all just looked at her. She took a deep breath then let it out. “I know what you’re thinking. It’s what any woman would think. But I’ve come to tell you not to be afraid. I’ll be there when you enter the room and I’ll be there when you leave. Get through this night and these men will be gone from your lives.”

“And suddenly you care about us?” Lola asked, stepping forward.

“Lola, she wants to help, to shield us from these evil men.” Aylee defended.

“Please, when has the French court not been full of evil men…and women?” Lola said with glare at Catherine, who sighed and looked down at the floor. “Since we’ve gotten here we’ve been lied to by people who smile and say pretty things as they stab us in the back. At least these men don’t pretend to be our friends.”

“I agree with Lola.” Kenna spoke up. “You come in here mouthing platitudes, but you have no idea what it’s like, to have a target on your back.”

“Seriously?” Maisie spoke up with a look at Kenna that suggested she was being foolish. “She’s a queen. The target on her back is big enough for the world to see.” Catherine gave her a look that said she was surprised she was defending her. "Am I wrong?" Maisie defended.

“She's right. I know exactly what this is like.” Catherine walked closer to them and Lola took a step back. “When I was eight years old, rebels stormed the Florentine palace. Both my parents were already dead, but my name and my family’s fortunes made me a target.”

“At eight years old?” Kenna asked.

“War doesn’t spare children.” Catherine answered with a scoff. “I was held hostage for years. Until finally they had to decide what to do with this Medici girl. Many of the soldiers, men just like these, demanded that I be turned over to them so that they would-” she cut herself off and sighed before she finished, “so that I would be shared.” Maisie dropped her eyes and placed her hand over her stomach, upset by the thought. “And I can still hear their laughter outside the convent. That sickening laughter.”

“What happened?” Aylee asked, none of them really wanted to know, but they needed to.

“The nuns and I prayed. We prayed for God to send the pope and his armies to retake the city and rescue me in time. And then one day the laughter stopped. It grew quiet and I stepped out into the sunlight over their bodies and Pope Clement welcomed me into his arms.” Maisie looked up at Catherine. “I emerged intact and so will you if you have faith.”

RRRRRRRRRR

At the feast Count Vincent sat at the center of one side of the table and had a queen on each side of him. Catherine on his left and Mary on his right. Kenna and Aylee sat beside Mary. Maisie and Lola sat beside Catherine. Before Catherine took her seat, she put a chest on one end of the table and opened it revealing that it was packed with gold coins. “Gentlemen, please, my gift to you.” she said as she motioned to the chest and set down.

The count gave his nine men that sat on the opposite side of the table a wave and they eagerly stood and dug into the chest of gold.

Maisie noticed that as Catherine sat down she turned over an hourglass that sat at her place setting. She thought about that hourglass as food was passed around and wine was poured. Wine that Count Vincent had provided himself to insure it was untouched by Catherine's hands that were so skilled with poisons.

Maisie tried her best not to pay too much attention to Greer as she sat a tray of rolls down in the middle of the table near her. A fourth of the hour glass had run down when Mary leaned over to the count and complained about her corset being too tight. The uncomfortable count gave her permission to go fix it. "It's so difficult without servants. My ladies will tend to me." Mary said as she and her four ladies stood.

"Four ladies for one corset? Seems a bit overkill to me." The man that had been sitting across from Maisie spoke up, stopping the ladies. "Why doesn't the red head stay here and keep us company?" He asked the count.

"He has a point." The count told Mary then looked at Maisie. "You," he turned his eyes to Kenna, "and you, stay." He waved for Mary, Aylee and Lola to leave and they had no choice but to leave Maisie and Kenna behind.

Maisie's eyes returned to the hourglass as she ate, watching as the granules of sand slipped through the tiny opening, counting down to something. Nervous that Bash would come for her and be overthrown by the ten men in the room, her leg started bouncing under the table.

She jumped when Catherine's hand slipped over her knee, stopping the action. The count didn't notice, lost in thought while his men gambled for the coins they'd gathered from the chest. Maisie looked at the queen who discreetly looked at the hour glass, then the still open chest.

Just as she put two and two together the man across the table threw his dice too hard and they stopped next to her plate where he couldn’t reach them. All she could do was watch as he stood and walked around the table leaning over her left shoulder as he picked up the dice. “Come sit with me, be my good luck charm.” His lips, too close to her ear, made her cringe. Not knowing what to do she looked across her shoulder at Catherine who gave her a nod. With a sickening stomach she stood and the man grabbed her upper arm as they walked around the table. He sat down then pulled her to sit in his lap. “A blow of the dice from lady luck?” he asked as he held his hand in front of her face with the dice in his palm.

Afraid of what would happen if she disobeyed she blew on the dice. The man hummed at the sight of her pursed lips then after rolling the dice, told the man he was playing against that he was done and turned all of his attention to Maisie. His hand found her calf and started slipping up her leg. Tears stung the backs of her eyes as his nose brushed her neck. Her heart was pounding as she looked at the hourglass then Count Vincent who stared off into the distance. From there she found Kenna, walking around the table to be pulled down into the lap of a man who instantly went for her neck, being just as aggressive as the man whose lips pressed to Maisie's neck, just below her ear, and started kissing down over her shoulder. Her chest was thankfully covered by the high halter top of her dress.

His hand was slipping up her inner thigh under her skirts, silent tears slipping down her cheeks, when Mary, Lola and Aylee walked back into the room. Catherine stood up and moved to stand behind the chest of coins. "Count Vincent, isn't this enough?" She asked, pulling the count out of his thoughts and the man’s hand stilled. When the count didn't reply Catherine slammed the chest lid closed. "You know the king will go to war for his heirs."

"What of it? Can Henry give me the life I had a year ago?" The Count asked. Catherine sighed in response. "Then let the heavens fall. Enough." The count stood and thankfully his men did as well, but the man kept his arm around Maisie's waist. "Thank you for this generous feast. Now we will be on our way."

"Please." Catherine pleaded as she grabbed the counts arm. "Please do not take my children. What else can I give you?" The count just looked at her flatly then looked away. Catherine looked at Mary and her ladies then back at the count. "Do you want women? Take them, take their virtue."

"Catherine no." Mary said taken a step toward Catherine.

"You liar!" Lola yelled. While Maisie was sure that the gold had been poisoned and the hourglass counted down to the moment it would hopefully kick in, she didn't know exactly how long it would take the sand to run out or what could happen in the moments before it did.

"They won't dare say a word about it. They'd be ruined, you can have them. You can have anything you-"

"Give me your heart then." The count cut her off as he drew a dagger from a sheath on his hip. "Carve it out and hand it to me so we might understand one another. That!" He slammed the dagger into the table, "is diplomacy. To understand my loss. To carry the weight of your dead heart with you every night a day until you find your grave." He paused for a moment. "Roberto. Give me Roberto and I will let your children live." When Catherine didn't say anything because there was nothing she could say, the count walked around her to stand by Mary. "Forgive me Mary, for I am not a gentle man." Count Vincent jerked Mary out of Aylee’s arms.

The man holding Maisie shoved her back against the wall holding her there with his hand on her neck and his hips pressed against hers. Other men grabbed Lola and Aylee. Kenna was thrown to the floor, her screams filled the air as three men started beating and kicking her.

The man holding Maisie to the wall kept his hand on her neck while his other hand grabbed her leg and pulled it up around him. In that moment Bash’s words filled her mind: Don’t let fear paralize you.

The terror in her eyes morphed into pure rage. The man saw the change in her, but he didn't have time to react before Maisie grabbed his face and dug her thumbs into his eyes. He screamed and stumbled back. Spotting the dagger on his side she grabbed it and stabbed him in the neck, making him fall to the floor.

She made a run for Kenna, but another man saw that she was free and charged at her. His clumsy wide steps left him open so she kicked, landing her shin, only covered with three loose layers of chiffon, right between his legs. He made a sound that suggested the air had been stolen from his lungs and grabbed his groin. The dagger in her hand was stabbed into the side of his neck before a man grabbed her from behind and shoved her face first into the stone wall, using his body to pin her there. The pressure of his hand on the back of her head caused the rough stone to dig into her cheek, drawing blood. She tried to blindly stab him with the dagger, but he grabbed her hand and slammed it into the wall, making her drop it.

Catherine threw the rundown hourglass, shattering it over the floor as she yelled, "Count Vincent!" All movement in the room ceased including that of the count who had Mary pinned beneath him on the dining table. "Do you know why your son is dead? Because of you! Because unlike me you aren't willing to pay the necessary price. So I'll make you a new offer. Take your hands off of Mary and I'll let you leave this castle with your life."

"Milord." One of the men said, getting the count’s attention and Maisie could see blood running feely from the nose of one of the men before they all started dropping like flies.

When the man holding her in place fell, Maisie scrambled to Kenna. Lola grabbed Aylee and pulled her close. Kenna squeezed her eyes closed, not looking at Maisie who kneeled down and brushed her hair out of her bruised face.

"No…we…we ate the same food, we drank my wine." The count said, looking around.

"Poison is an art." Catherine replied. "And the essence of art is surprise."

"The gold." Mary whispered as Maisie helped Kenna stand.

The count looked at the gold spilled across the floor then back at Catherine. "I never touched your gold," he grabbed his dagger from the table, "Medici bitch." He took a step toward Catherine, but Mary grabbed one of the two pronged forks from the table and stabbed Count Vincent in the neck. As he collapsed she pushed him off of her and backed away from the table, watching as he laid on it, fruitlessly attempting to pull the fork out of his artery with one hand while the other still grasped his dagger.

Francis rushed in and sliced off his hand before he could hurt anyone with the dagger. "Your son awaits you." Francis told the dying man with a sneer.

Bash, stepping over dead bodies, rushed to Maisie, and grabbed her face, looking at the bleeding scrapes on her cheekbone. “Are you alright?” she just nodded as he grabbed her hands, seeing the blood on her knuckles that had been busted when the man slammed her hand into the wall to get her to drop the knife. Though she knew it should hurt she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything really. “You fought.”

“She did.” Lola spoke up as she and Aylee walked over to Kenna. "The rest of us were too frightened."

Bash looked back at Maisie. “I didn’t let it paralyze me.” she told him, looking on the verge of tears.

Bash grabbed her face and pressed his forehead to hers. “I am so…proud of you.”

She gave him a weak smile before she turned to face Lola, Aylee and Kenna. "Why didn't you go to the tunnels?" Maisie asked with a look at Lola.

"We knocked, but no one opened the door." Aylee answered.

"I assume Olivia abandoned us." Lola added.

While Francis rushed to Mary, Catherine went to the four ladies who were now huddled together around Kenna. "Why didn't you tell us about the gold?" Aylee asked as Catherine reached out and touched poor Kenna's face, the most compassionate thing she’d ever seen Catherine do.

"I learned long ago that only a secret known by one person remains a secret." Catherine answered. "And…of course I…I wasn't sure it would work. Though I did try to tell Maisie after the count insisted the two of you stay." She looked at Maisie. "You're a very observant girl. You were trying to figure out the purpose of the hourglass and I didn't want your face to give it away when you did."

Mary rushed over and hugged Kenna. "Kenna, I'm so sorry."

"I'll be alright." Kenna sobbed.

"I'll take her to the infirmary." Francis said as he came over to them. "Here, come with me. Take my arm." He told Kenna as he wrapped her arm around his shoulders and his around her waist.

“You should go too and let Nostradamus look at you.” Bash tried, but she shook her head.

“It’s just scraps. I’ll be fine.” Maisie insisted. Bash put his hand on her lower back as they walked out of the dining room.

The walk to her chaimbers was quiet. Bash opened the door for her and she walked inside. But when the quietness and emptiness of her room stared back at her she turned to Bash and grabbed the door before he could shut it. “Stay with me tonight?” tears stung the back of her eyes. “I don’t care if the servants talk in the morning. I’ll deal with it, but I'm not sure I can handle being alone right now.”

Bash walked in and shut the door behind him. “Of course I’ll stay. If I had it my way I’d never leave your side again.” he cupped her cheek in his hand.

The intimate touch reminded her that she truly was safe now and the reality of the day's events came crashing down on her. It suddenly felt as if a boulder rested on her chest. “I ca…I can’t breathe.” She gasped, pulling at the neck of the halter corseted dress she wore. "Help me..out of this…please." Bash quickly untitled the laces at the back and unhooked the clasp at the neck.

While she tugged it off he grabbed her nightgown from the nearby wardrobe and slipped it over her head, keeping her covered as her dress pooled at her feet. "Look at me."

She looked up at his face. "I don't…understand what's…happening. I…I was fine."

He grabbed her hand and placed it on his chest. "Breathe with me. Match my pace and focus on my voice." She nodded and did as he said. "You've been holding everything at bay all day. Fighting," he threaded his fingers through her hair rubbing her forehead with his thumb, "up here, before you even raised a fist." Her eyes slipped closed when her breathing evened out. "Now that the fighting is done it's catching up to you. That's all."

She took a deep breath, let it out and opened her eyes “I’m sorry.” she told him quietly, as she placed both her shaking hands on his chest and looked up at him.

“Whatever for?” he asked.

“I don’t know. Letting that man get his hands on me…not fighting sooner. I feel like I should have…somehow.” she squeezed her eyes shut. “And poor Kenna, I tried to get to her but I was grabbed from behind and I didn’t know what to do, I couldn’t get away. I couldn’t-”

He cupped her cheeks in his hand and shushed her. “Look at me.” She opened her eyes and looked into his. “You fought. You fought…the best you could and that’s what matters. Do you hear me?” she nodded. “We will keep training and you'll get better.” She nodded then grabbed his hand and led him to her bed. She laid down and Bash took off the leather vest he was wearing then followed. They laid on their sides facing one another, Bash holding her close. "I'm sorry I didn't meet you at the stables this morning. I was delayed by my mother. I told her I had plans, but she insisted that she had important news."

"Is she alright?" She asked, worrying that Diane might be ill.

"Yes, but if anyone finds out the treasonous things she's planning, both she and I could be in grave danger." He answered. "It could take me away from you."

"Bash, you're scaring me." She replied instantly thinking of Nostradamus's prediction. "What is your mother planning?"

"She's been corresponding with a cardinal. She wants to have me legitimized. To change the line of succession and make me the next king and you the queen." He explained.

Maisie's eyes grew wide as her brows rose. "Do you want to be king?"

"No, I've never wanted Francis's job." He answered with a shake of his head. "All I've ever wanted is to marry you, buy a small house somewhere and have a quiet life."

"That sounds lovely." She replied with a small smile.

"Would you want to be queen?" He asked.

"Lord no. I've seen what that has done to Mary and her relationship with Francis." She answered. "Did you tell your mother that you don't want your brother's throne?"

"Yes and I thought she heard me, but…" he sighed and shook his head. "The count's men who stormed into my room and took my mother and I prisoner were oddly gentle with us, before my mother even had the chance to bribe them."

"What are you saying?" She asked with a frown.

"I believe my mother told Count Vincent when my father and his men would be out of the castle." Bash answered. "That she wanted him to take Francis and my little brothers, leaving me to be next in line for the throne."

"Do you truly think your mother would do that?" She asked.

"Yes. You haven't seen the temper tantrums she's thrown when it comes to my father. I have. And she was recently displaced, yet again. Having me be next in line for the throne would give Father reason enough to annul his marriage to Catherine and make Mother queen. She'd have a permanent place at Father's side."

"Permanent until someone assassinates her or you." Maisie added. "Your mother's thirst for power will cause a title wave. Nobles will revolt."

"Her plans with the count were all for not. And I will never take my brother's job." He assured her. She closed her eyes and pressed her forehead to his chest. "You should try to get some sleep."

She nodded and cuddled into him, but sleep didn't come, instead images she didn’t want to see filled her mind's eye and she opened them, seeing that Bash was still watching her closely. “I can't sleep. All I can see is the look on those men's faces before I stabbed them."

"You stabbed them?" He asked.

Maisie nodded and dropped her eyes to his chest. "When I remembered what you told me, not to let fear paralyze me, it was like…my brain stopped working, save two thoughts…survive and save my friends at all costs. So I did. It was just like the time I punched that guy for grabbing my rear. I had no control over myself, no idea what I was doing until I had already done it." She lifted her eyes to look into his. "I killed two men tonight."

"I know taking a life isn't easy, but better them than you." he told her quietly. "I truly am proud of you. Most women in that situation aren't as brave." He took his hand from where it had been resting on her hip to slip the backs of his fingers over her cheek.

She took it and kissed his busted knuckles. "I'm only brave because you give me the strength to be."

A soft fleeting smile graced his lips. "You give me too much credit. You've always been a fighter. I've known it since we were children."

"What simpler times those were." She sighed as she slipped her pointer finger over the scar on his palm. "When I was…eleven, maybe, I noticed mine had started to fade." He flipped her hand around to look at it, still clear as day, just like his. "I feared that if it faded, so would my memories of you."

"So you cut it again." He said, making her look up at him to give him a nod. "Mine started fading as well. I knew I could never forget you, but I reopened the wound regardless."

She gave him a soft smile. "I love you."

He smiled and cupped her face in his hand, slipping his thumb over her scratched cheek and her eyes slipped closed. "I love you too." He noticed when she opened her eyes that she was fighting to keep them that way. So he grabbed the blanket from the foot of the bed and pulled it over them. "Sleep. I'm not going anywhere." He kissed her forehead as she scooted closer, tucking her hand under her chin as he wrapped his arm around her waist.

RRRRRRRRRR

Morning light shone through the window beside Maisie's bed, illuminating the couple sleeping in the same position they'd fallen asleep in. Maisie woke up first, feeling Bash's arm still around her waist and her arms still tucked between them. She opened her eyes to see his still closed, his lips parted as soft, barely audible snores filled the air. She couldn't help smiling at the sight.

It brought her back to a moment from their childhood. They had snuck out late one night to stargaze. Bash ended up falling asleep. To wake him, thinking it would tickle, she placed her pointer finger between his brows and lightly slipped it down the bridge of his nose. When he woke up, he crossed his eyes looking at her finger on his face and she giggled. From then on he used the face to make her laugh every time he had an excuse to.

Looking at him now and not feeling like waiting patiently for him to wake up, she bit her smiling lips closed, raised her hand and slipped her finger down his nose with a feather light touch. After a few passes he took in a deep breath, but didn't open his eyes. She knew he was awake when she slipped her finger down his nose again and a closed lipped smile appeared on his face. "Are you going to open your eyes?" She asked. He hummed a negative answer. "Why not?" She asked, sounding a little pouty as she dropped her hand to rest on his chest.

"Because I'm not sure I can still do what I think you're wanting me to do." He answered.

"You remember?" She asked, sounding surprised.

He finally opened his eyes, gracing her with their pastel blue presence. "Of course I remember. It was my favorite way to make you laugh." She smiled. "I haven't done it since you left." She gave him a look, silently begging him to try. He heaved out a sigh. "Alright, but you have to promise not to be disappointed if I can't do it."

"I promise." She answered then watched as he put on a mock serious face, glared at her then crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue biting it between his lips. She burst out laughing and he stopped making the funny face to laugh with her. "I didn't realize how much I've missed that." She slipped her hand over his cheek. "The face and the laugh. Things have been so tense lately."

He let things fall quiet for a moment as he moved his hand from where it had been resting on her waist to slide up and down her upper arm. "I'm just glad you woke up in a good mood, I feared you'd have a restless sleep."

"I fell asleep and woke up in your arms. It's a good morning." She replied as she slipped her fingertips into the untied v of his shirt. "I can think of something to make it even better." She replied and gave his shoulder a gentle push.

So he turned on to his back then watched as she threw her leg over him, straddling his hips. Lust veiled his eyes as she leaned down and caught his bottom lip between hers. As they kissed his arms wrapped around her waist, his hand sliding up her silk covered back to press between her shoulder blades. A sigh left his lips as she worked her way to his neck, kissing the soft skin just below his ear before working her way down to kiss his chest that his shirt revealed.

Wanting to feel her kiss elsewhere Bash sat up, taking her with him, then took his shirt off and fell backwards. She was taking in the view when a knock came from her door pulling them back down to reality. "Hide." She whispered to Bash then yelled, "one moment!" At the door as she scrambled from bed and pulled on a robe. After making sure Bash couldn't be seen she opened the door to see her ladies maid. "Good morning, Bernadette."

"Good morning, Milady. Sorry to interrupt-" Maisie held her hand up, cutting her off.

She went to the writing desk in her room, grabbed a few gold coins then returned to Bernadette. She showed them to the blond girl who couldn't have been older than herself then closed her hand. "Would you like to try that sentence again?"

"Good morning, Milady. Sorry to wake you," she paused and Maisie gave her an approving nod "but your presence is requested in the throne room at noon."

"Okay. Thank you, and please keep in mind that discretion is of the utmost importance to me." Maisie replied as she opened her hand.

"My lips are sealed." Bernadette replied as she took the coins, curtsied then walked away.

Maisie closed the door and when she turned around Bash stepped out from behind the dressing screen. "Paying for silence. You've been at court for too long." He said as he walked over and wrapped his arms around her waist as she rested hers on his shoulders.

"If I have to divvy out some coins to keep them silent so we can do this again then I will." She replied and he smiled.

"We still have quite a bit of time before you have to be in the throne room.” Bash pointed out. “Are you feeling up for a ride?”

“Why go for a ride when we can continue what Bernadette interrupted?” she asked with a lustful look.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to take you…to remind you of simpler times.” he answered.

“Okay.” she answered with a little smile. “I’ll meet you at the stables?”

He nodded and pecked her on the lips then snuck out of the room.

RRRRRRRRRR

“Where are you taking me?” Maisie asked as they rode through the woods, not on any trail, ducking under branches on occasion.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” he answered from where he rode ahead of her, leading the way.

“Can’t you just tell me?” she asked, ducking under another branch.

“Maisie.” he sighed, getting aggravated with her.

“Sorry.” she answered with a smile.

After a few more minutes of riding they finally came to a stop, facing a large French oak tree. Its branches grew almost horizontally. Staring at it, Maisie rode closer, then dismounted. Bash did the same then followed her to the tree, watching as she touched it then walked around the fat trunk trailing her fingers over it until she found what she was looking for. A staggered trail of notches in the tree, makeshift stairs that Bash had carved for her feet to fit into so that she could climb the tree. “You remember.” He observed with a smile.

“I don’t know why, but I didn’t think this tree would still be standing.” she replied as she turned toward him. “I guess I thought it may have gotten cut down for timber or destroyed in a storm.”

“Would you like to climb it?” he asked with a soft smile.

“I don’t think we have enough time for you to carve new steps.” she told him with a smirk.

Bash just walked over to his horse and took a rope ladder out of his saddle bag. After he’d secured it to the tree he helped her climb up. They sat on the thick limb, straddling it facing each other. “Feels like just yesterday we sat here like this, two kids…kindred spirits making a blood oath to one day wed despite all the things that could have pulled us apart.”

"It's still just as beautiful as ever." She replied with a soft smile. While she was looking off in the distance he reached into his pocket and pulled out a box carved of oak. Seeing the movement out of the corner of her eye she looked at him. “The little carved box.” she whispered.

“Our love, like this tree, has stood strong through the time we spent apart and through every storm life has thrown its way since your return." He paused and Maisie smiled, waiting for him to continue. "The moments we've shared have been the happiest of my life and I know now that in spite of my station, I can make you happy as well." Her stomach filled with nervous butterflies and something else shot through her chest as he opened the box and took out a ring. "Will you grant the wish I made when we were children and stay true to our oath by becoming my wife?"

The look in his pastel blue eyes suggested that if she said no, he would shatter. A tear slipped down her cheek as a little laugh left her smiling face. "Yes."

"Yes?" He asked with a smile brighter than the sun and a raise of his brows.

She laughed, "Yes, of course I will marry you." She sniffled.

He leaned forward, catching her lips in a joyful kiss before he pulled back and grabbed her left hand. "This ring belonged to my grandmother." he slipped it on her finger and she held her hand up looking at the gold rose with a little rounded ruby sitting in the center of it. "Its modest, I know, but-"

"I love it." She cut him off. "More than I could ever love something new."

He gave her a soft smile. "Good."

Tags: @ranuchiha @jodiereedus22

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mylovefrary · 4 years

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Francis Valois Moment 189: "This is our new King" - Louis Conde.

An encounter with a cousin who didn't look like him at all. If the producer change Sean with a handsome man as equal to Francis, I might say yes to their triangle affairs. Just a thought!

#Francis Valois #Lady Lola #Louis Conde #Reign #Reign Season 2 #Reign Season 2 Episode 1 #Reign 2x1 #reign edit #Toby Regbo #annapoplewell #sean teale #Francis Valois Moment

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mizzswan · 3 years

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#So like #I have a lot of thoughts about season two #for starters what the fuck was season 2 #a lot of moments I hated in it #but this one was sweet #also I'm back I think #frary #reign #my gifs #francis valois #Mary Stuart

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fishalthor-archive · 3 years

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you want me...and I want you

#reign #reignedit #tregboedit #periodedit #perioddramaedit #weloveperioddrama #perioddramasource #onlyperioddramas #romancegifs #userstream #chewieblog #usersource #francis de valois #***#shhh leave me to this #iknownoonelikesolivia #but let me have this #have this moment for my rp stuff #becauseshesmyocok

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itsfrarysreign · 4 years

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Frary moments in Reign [13/?]

➝ 1.08: Marry me, say yes

#reign #reignedit #frary #fraryedit #mary x francis #season 1 #1x08 #francis valois #mary stuart #frary moments #edits*

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waitingforthefireflies · 3 years

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Currently trying to do what I said I would two years ago (yikes!) and upload all my icons on this blog. This is the second batch containing 40+ francis icons (the first batch were those ugly-ass christmas icons. maybe some of you remember them).

If you end up using any of these, please credit.

Icons under the cut, but will eventually be uploaded to the icons page.

#icons #resources #francis #francis de valois #yes those are jedi francis icons no i will not elaborate #it was a joke #also you would not believe my dumb luck #i literally deleted all of these by accident THE MOMENT they were uploaded #maybe some didn't make it idk tumblr's been glitching on me all day #x

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alwaysahiccupandastrid · 2 years

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Forever thinking about that moment when Francis Valois said “I don’t make love to you because I want a baby, I want a baby because I love you” to Mary 😭❤️

#THEM #frary #reign #francis valois #mary stuart #mary queen of scots #mary x francis #francis x mary #toby regbo #adelaide kane

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retvenkos · 3 years

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we burn just like stars (gone before our time) | f.v.

Reign - Francis Valois x Reader, angst, slight fluff requested

tw: forbidden love, burning imagery

word count: 1.7k

prompt: “lie to me, then.”

Summary: "I can't love you." And that phrase followed (Y/n) and Francis like a phantom they couldn’t shake.

"I can't love you."

And it was the first thing (Y/n) knew.

From the moment they had been born, (Y/n) and Francis had existed with the knowledge that they would be the other's ruin. It was fated - written in the stars. The Medici family and the (L/n) family had a long history of war, the two in constant battle, always standing at opposing ends of politics and values, each family fighting for moral high ground over the other. For generations, there had been nothing but hatred between the two families - a spitting, bitter rivalry that would only end in bloodshed.

(Y/n) and Francis were groomed from birth, learning to become the other's ruin with a vengeance sticking behind their teeth and a pride igniting in their eyes. Beneath their fingertips lay gunpowder, and within their grins lay daggers. From the moment they met, (Y/n) and Francis were expected to be the other's ruin.

Neither could have guessed how gradual and intimate that devastation would become.

It had started with a laugh - a clear, almost joyful sound that Francis allowed himself when the two were sparring, their blades clashing together and making sparks from steel and air. He had gotten the upper hand and (Y/n) swore lowly, not at the Medici's or the Valois' but God himself. Francis had laughed and pressed forth with more vigor than before. (Y/n) blocked his onslaught with fervor, and sparks ignited, the beginnings of a fire that they would learn to love.

From there, it was the little things: the triumphant smile (Y/n) wore when they won at chess, the way Francis stuck his tongue in his cheek when he was annoyed, the comments that (Y/n) made about the ridiculous nobles at court, the strands of curled hair that got in Francis' eyes, and the way that (Y/n) took a stroll at night, daring to venture the castle after dark just to look at the stars from a proper vantage point.

"I can't love you."

Francis mulled over those words for years before saying them aloud, fathoming that very distinct thought hundreds of times over before he allowed them to slip out. He almost permitted himself to speak that phrase more times than could count.

Francis almost said it the first time they stared into each other's eyes, on the precipice of something more. He almost said it when (Y/n) rushed to his side after a riding accident put him in the infirmary. He almost said it whenever he found them roaming in the castle, comfortable enough to be content. And, perhaps most damning of all, Francis almost said it every time he and (Y/n) had to feign animosity toward one another when relatives were around, both of them throwing sharp words over their shoulder but softening the blow with a wink that nearly rendered the other speechless.

"I can't love you."

Francis said it the first time they kissed, in the dark of night, their worlds colliding after an attack on the castle left both of them shaken to the core and yearning for something safe. They were in his chambers, sitting on the floor, and (Y/n) was in his arms, their expression more vivid than anything he could have ever imagined.

"I can't love you," and his forehead pressed against theirs, and his eyes looked to the floor, filled with an anguish that could only be described as love.

"I know." and (Y/n) kissed him again, trying to burn away the ire that pooled within them with a feeling much more potent.

It couldn't happen, but it did, and even though they were created to be each other's ruin, (Y/n) and Francis came to crave their demolition, finding something holy in the wreckage.

Over time, the two had learned to hear something more from those bitter words - something about the hurt placed in those syllables that let on the deepest kind of affection. There was an 'I love you,' hidden in those words, tangled amongst the thorns of their reality and nestled amongst heartache. There was a yearning in the utterance of those four words (and that brief but bittersweet response) - the kind of longing that was like a slow-acting poison, tainting them inch by inch.

But it was beautiful, and perhaps that was the worst sin of them all.

"I don't want this to change me," (Y/n) had said one day, hidden in the alcove of a deserted corridor. The sun filtered in at a slanted angle, casting Francis in golden light as he held them close, something soft in his expression. The two had spent the morning together, and through the hours, a pensive feeling had descended upon them - something that made Francis seem more like a king. (Y/n) had pondered him in those hours before the rest of the world bothered them, and something curious settled in their bones.

"I believe it already has," Francis chuckled, an eyebrow raised and his usual smile gracing his features. (Y/n) committed it to memory, knowing that they would always want to remember him like this.

"I mean, I don't want to have hatred poison this." (Y/n) pulled their gaze away from Francis to stare at his jacket, straightening the fabric to preoccupy their mind, as it couldn't fathom all that they were saying. "I don't want to hate Mary for having to wed you, or the rest of the world for putting us here - together but apart. Hate is terrible. You never recover from it."

"Then don't hate anyone," Francis said, his words laced with such conviction that it almost sounded possible. He put a gentle hand to (Y/n)'s cheek and drew their gaze, holding them in his mind's eye with all the care he possessed. "(Y/n), we always knew that this couldn't happen, but it did, and I cannot bring myself to feel sorry about it. You are one of the best things to happen to me, and I..."

And the silence after was uniquely crushing.

"Say it. Please."

And (Y/n) knew it was corrupt to request such a thing, but they were devastated already.

Francis was tragically beautiful as he stared at them, his torn expression almost angelic - with hair spun from gold and eyes like the clear skies above. A tear hit his cheek, rain falling on sand. He lowered his head slowly, as though gravity weighed on him especially, dragging him downward. He whispered, and every syllable was a knife to his heart. "I cannot love you."

"I know," and tears of their own fell, yet (Y/n) wiped his. "But lie to me, then, if you cannot. Just let me hear it the way I've imagined thousands of times before."

"It would not be a lie."

(Y/n) breathed out, an exhale that was more pained than it ought to be.

(Y/n) took a step away from Francis, pressing their back against the cool stone, and sliding down to the floor. They turned their face to the heavens, and there was little solace in what lay above.

"Can I tell you a lie, then? I know a most beautiful fantasy."

Francis turned to them, and there was a special kind of desolation that gripped him, a ruin that would leave him broken and heaving, but carried a substance - the opposite of the hollowness that threatened to swallow him whole.

Francis slid down the wall, and here, on the ground, he could handle it.

"Lie to me."

And he prayed it would be sweet at the end and not just bitter.

"One day, there will be a grand celebration - a wedding, maybe, and you and I will dance together. Our families will be furious, but I will say that the Valois' are not the Medici's and that at you, no anger will persist."

"And do they agree to your statement?"

"They do - because I will say at that moment that I love you, and I always have. That night we'll go out under the stars, and you will kiss me for all of the heavens to see. We will be favored by the universe, then, and all will work in our favor."

"In this lie, I marry you," Francis spoke - a thickness to his words, as though he struggled to get them out. But he smiled throughout, and his eyes glistened with unshed tears and that same kind of ruinous love. (Y/n) could not look away. "It's a little reception - in the woods where we can take off our shoes and dance in the earth. And we will leave Court behind. We'll be blacksmiths in a small village, where we know everyone and there's only one type of bread."

(Y/n) chuckled, their voice caught between joy and sorrow. Francis stretched out his legs and knocked his against theirs. The feeling of (Y/n) beside him wasn't something he ever wanted to forget, and yet he could already feel it slipping away.

"Are we happy together?" And (Y/n)'s voice was a sweet but corrupted wine that he willingly drank, for fear he might never hear such hope again.

"Yes." Francis smiled, and a wiser man wouldn't have spoken such words because beautiful dreams made for poisoned realities, but this moment was precious, and the divinity in (Y/n)'s eyes was worth all the suffering in the world. "At night, we'll lay down beside each other and talk until we fall asleep, and in the morning, we'll wake up in each other's arms. I'll whisper it against your lips then, and you will know what it tastes like when you are loved."

Tears slipped down the curve of (Y/n)'s cheek, and in the sunlight, they glistened. Francis could not look away from them, and their love was like that of a star - far away and burning, beautiful but unattainable.

"Hold me now, and I will feel it."

Francis surged forward and held them with such a strength that if anyone saw them, they would have wept at how tragic a beautiful thing could be. "I love you." And perhaps it was cruel to say it now, but they were already burning, and there was nothing to be done. Francis had mulled over those words for years, and now he allowed them to slip out.

"I know," (Y/n) breathed, and when their voice allowed for something stronger than a sigh, (Y/n) pressed their forehead against his, their eyes filled with an anguish that could only be described as love. "And Francis Valois, I love you."

Francis kissed them, and together they burned, the ruin they were always meant to be.

-- taglist: @lenalxvegood, @cooloaflandhero�� // message me if you want to be added!

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unabashedqueenfury · 2 years

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Reign 2013-2017/01-13

Mary and Francis

#mary stuart #francis de valois #adelaide kane #toby regbo #frary #mary×francis #season1 #01×13 #frary dream #face expression #love #looks #eyes #sweet moments #OTP #holy love #the cardigans #spotify #frary's lovely children

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frary-us · 3 years

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FRANCIS: You captured him, and then you lost him. Did it occur to you to leave him under guard?

GENERAL RENAUDE: I did, my lord. You gave me no warning that he might have outside help. My men at the checkpoint were massacred. But he had help even before that, my lord. He had official papers, an identity to step into.

FRANCIS: French papers?

GENERAL RENAUDE: Yes, Your Majesty.

QUEEN CATHERINE: You may go....

FRANCIS: After all of this, could Mary still be helping him?

QUEEN CATHERINE: Yes. Out of guilt or affection, even though he's lost to her. Has she no idea what she risks!?!? Your forgiveness, your protection, your mercy.... forever!

(Source: x)

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joachimnapoleon · 2 years

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I was curious as to the details regarding Murat’s “recapture” of the sword of Francis I in Spain (from a recent post by @peashooter85). Murat had the sword sent to Napoleon, who displayed it in his study in the Tuileries; but apparently Murat was a lot more excited about the whole thing than Napoleon was.

From Andrew Hilliard Atteridge’s biography on Murat:

Twice he [Napoleon] took occasion to find fault with his lieutenant on minor matters. The sword of Francis I, surrendered at Pavia, had been kept as a trophy at Madrid for more than two centuries. Murat suggested it would be a graceful act to restore it to France, represented by Napoleon. To the deputation which presented it to him to be sent to the Emperor, Murat made a high flown speech. Even the bravest might suffer misfortune, he said, and there was no disgrace in the French king having succumbed to Spanish valour at Pavia. In sending back his sword to the Emperor, they marked the new friendship of France and Spain, and linked together the glories of Charles V and Napoleon.

The Emperor, when Murat sent him the sword with a report of his oration, replied that he had taken a lot of trouble over a matter of trifling moment. What was the sword of Francis to him? Francis I was 'only a Bourbon,' besides he had been defeated by Italians. What had the Spaniards to do with it? The Emperor's history was not reliable. Francis was not a Bourbon but a Valois king, and the Spanish infantry decided the day at Pavia.

#this didn’t really surprise me one bit tbh #Murat just being his usual romantic self and Napoleon’s just like ‘whatever’#and then botches the history #meanwhile he’s the one perpetuating the narrative of Murat being this clueless imbecile #but I digress #Joachim Murat #Napoleon #Francis I #swords #history

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pale-persephone · 3 years

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Reign Revisited: The Pilot

Waaaaay back in 2013, when The White Queen had just finished its initial 10 episode run on Starz, some fan blogs I had followed began buzzing about a new show that had just premiered. This time, the queen in question was Mary Stuart, and like The White Queen, this new show was soapy and sexy and full of great costumes.

The White Queen is historical fiction, emphasis on the fiction. Compared to Reign, however, it is a doctoral thesis on primary-document research.

Reign isn't historical fiction. It's historical fanfiction. It's a fanfiction salad with side of lite history and a sprinkling of fact croutons. If you were tuning into Reign hoping to actually learn something

So, let's start with the fact croutons. What did Reign get right(ish), historically speaking, in the first episode?

Mary Stuart was sent to France as a child with the intention that she would someday marry the dauphin, Francis.

Francis Valois was the oldest son of Henry II and Catherine de Medici (aka BAWS ASS BITCH). His sister Elisabeth married the king of Spain, and he had a brother named Charles.

Diane de Poitiers was Henry II's longest-serving and most-loved mistress.

Mary had four ladies-in-waiting of roughly the same age with whom she developed deep and long-lasting bonds.

Nostradamus was a thing.

What was bullshit?

Bash

Literally everything else.

Now that we have that established, let's dive right in.

The Revisit

I'm calling it a revisit, because unlike some of you perhaps, I've been here before. For the most part, I know how the story goes, and I plan to write about the beginning from the vantage point of the ending. In other words, if you don't want spoilers, this ain't the place for you.

So, here we are. The very first second of the very first scene of the very first episode. And what do we see?

Girl, I was not prepared for that. You gotta remember: 3x05 was the last episode I truly watched. The night that it aired, I cried so much that I had to sleep with a cold gel mask over my face so that the next morning people wouldn't see my severely swollen eyes and worry I was suffering from an allergic reaction.

Obviously, I remember the prophecy about Francis's death playing a major role in the first half of season 1. I just wasn't expecting The Tree of Suffering and Death to be in my face right out the gate.

Now that that's aside, let us move on. As historically inaccurate as it is, I'm not mad at the writers' decision to start out the series with Mary squirreled away in a convent, awaiting her return to court. What I am mad at, however, is this wig.

I know they blew all their budget filming on location, but yeesh. This doesn't look much better than the one I picked up at Party City the year I dressed up as Snow White.

Speaking of locations, it is amazing how much wider the world seems in this pilot episode when compared to my memories of later ones, which had begun to feel very insular by the time I stopped watching. Within the first few minutes, we've been in a forest with Nostradamus, outside a picturesque convent with Mary and a passel of nuns, and now we’re on to the glorious French court, where the interiors are lush and the rooms bustling with people.

Next up, we meet the hot half-brother duo of Francis and Bash.

When it comes to this show, from the beginning until now, there is one hill that I am prepared to die on: Toby Regbo as Francis.

Maybe Reign Francis isn't as young, short, or sickly as Real Francis. I will argue that the Powers That Be knew what they were doing, however, because from the moment he rushed up those stairs and onto the screen, I could totally buy the idea that this was a boy whose life would prove to be a flickering candle. No, Reign Francis isn't short. But he is a little too thin, a little too pretty, a little too golden. He looks exactly like the type of person who'd be carried off by a fever in a pre-antibiotics world.

As for Bash...

I was never a Mash/Mabastian shipper. I thought the love triangle was a dumpster fire. And, in the past, that bias made it impossible for me to view Bash with any objectivity whatsoever. Now that Reign is over and I know for a fact that the Mary/Francis/Bash tug-o-war fizzles to less than nothing, I feel a little more sympathy for his character and a shit ton more for Torrance Coombs, the actor who plays him.

When I last saw Bash in season 3, he was a character inhabiting a world nearly completely separate from all the others. The show had fallen into a pattern where Bash spent the bulk of his time investigating one pseudo-supernatural bullshit calamity after another, with occasional brief stops at the palace to deliver updates. It was rather jarring to rewatch the pilot and see him actually participating in palace life. I'm reminded that, In the beginning, Bash truly was a main character, and it must have been difficult for Torrance to see himself increasingly sidelined.

I mentioned this earlier, but as we watch the Valois family preparing for young Elisabeth's wedding, I am struck by how many people there are. In the initial images of Francis and Bash I posted above, you can see castle business being conducted within the rooms on either side of them. We are then introduced to Henry, Catherine, and Elisabeth, who are positively surrounded by servants and attendants.

I mention this only because, by the time season 3 rolls around, it begins to feel like there are a grand total of five people living the a palace, which itself consists of a mere three rooms and one hallway. I know, I KNOW: budget constraints. It's still amazing to me how much bigger, fuller, and more textured this pilot seems compared to the later episodes.

Next, we meet the most ridiculously named ladies-in-waiting to ever grace the screen: Kenna, Lola, Greer, and Aylee. I get that going with the historically accurate "Four Marys" would have been confusing for the audience, and that traditional names such as Anne, Margaret, Joan (Jean/Jane), and Agnes aren't very, well, exciting. But Lola? For a lady-in-waiting to a Scottish queen? For fuck's sake.

And while I'm speaking of Lola, I must say I'm a bit confused by her backstory and motivations in the pilot. The script makes it clear that the ladies are arriving from Scotland just as Mary is returning from the convent. Kenna teases Lola about the "boy from Aberdeen" whom Lola insists "will wait for" her. Greer echoes my sentiments exactly here: wait for what? Lola is in France in the service of a queen who will be married and will live in France. If she wanted to spend her life with the boy from Aberdeen, why didn't she just marry him rather than depart for France with the knowledge that she would likely never see him again?

All of these questions become moot points once Colin himself arrives. Again I ask, If they want to be together so badly, why didn't they marry before Lola left Scotland? And why is Lola, a daughter of a Scottish noble in the employ of the queen of Scotland, asking Catherine de Medici, not Mary, for permission for Colin to stay? Mary was allowed to maintain a retinue in France. Shouldn't Colin, her subject, petition her for a position and permission to court Lola? Especially when Lola freely admits that Mary has never met Colin before? I get that Catherine's meeting with Colin is essential to the episode's plot. I just find the set-up to be clunky and awkward.

Before that can happen, though, we are witness to the planetary collision of Mary's first meeting with Francis. (0:00 - 0:50 in the video below)

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Francis stops. Mary stops. The music stops. The visual and auditory clues make it clear: This is a defining moment in their young lives.

This Francis, however, is not the Francis I grew to love over the course of the 48 episodes to follow. The Francis of the pilot episode is more guarded, less prone to express emotion, and more fearful of his own heart. There is even a scene here in which he treats Mary quite callously, and while I feel like Toby did a good job in relaying Francis's worries and mixed emotions, I can understand why some viewers weren't immediately sold on the Great Love Story of Mary and Francis.

I mean, they were wrong, but still. I understand.

I really enjoyed the early scenes of Mary and her ladies all together during this episode. At one point, they all receive a lecture on court etiquette by a stern looking Madame type, which sends them all into fits of giggles, and I find myself thinking that the show would have been better served if it had kept a character like that around. In fact, watching this scene with future episodes in mind, I must ask the question: Where are they adults?

No, seriously. Where are they?

As the show moves forward, there are no authority figures whatsoever at French court other than Catherine and Henry. Mary rules Scotland from hundreds of miles away with the help of absolutely no one. Aside from an uncle who appears briefly at the beginnings of episodes 3 and 4, there is not one grown person in Mary's orbit to offer her guidance or advice. She is a teenaged queen who, on the show, has spent the past six years buried in a convent, and yet she is completely left to her own devices. Where is the rest of the de Guise clan? In reality, Mary Stuart had a slew of relatives who would have been in and out of French court. Her uncles were dukes, marquises (is that the right plural?), archbishops, and cardinals. Where are they? And beyond that, where are her Scottish advisors? Mary and her four ladies-in-waiting most certainly would not have been the only Scots at court. Future episodes will showcase constant tension between Mary and Francis, pitting her choices against his, when—in actuality—there would have entire councils of people involved in every single aspect of the decision making.

I get that too many characters can become hard to juggle, and I know first-hand that Reign will have a difficult enough time maintaining storylines for the characters it does showcase. I still think that Reign missed an opportunity in giving a face (or faces, rather) to the authority at court, both French and Scottish.

So we've met our protagonists and established our setting. But who is our bad guy? Every story needs an antagonist, and this Reign pilot offers us two, of sorts. Though neither really work in the long run.

The first is Catherine de Medici. Her actions in this pilot episode are reprehensible, and yet by the end I was in tears (again) seeing her watch helplessly on from a window while the son she loves more than the waking world falls for the girl who will cause his death. Having witnessed what Mary’s behavior will become in the second season, and knowing that she will ultimately be the cause of Francis’s death, it’s kind of difficult not to believe that Catherine was right in wanting to be rid of her. Her methods are vile, manipulative, and conniving, but her driving motivation is love for her child. You can’t root for her, but you can’t exactly root against her, either.

The second is the forest, also known as the Blood Wood. Or rather, what the Blood Wood supposedly contains. This episode lays some eerie groundwork here, but, guys…I just can’t take it seriously. It's promising chills that never materialize. The nefarious “pagans,” the ridiculous Darkness reveal at the end of the season…ugh. And the idea that the royal family resides in a palace surrounded by forests no one dares go into…How does that work? There are hundreds of people at court each day. Dozens travelling to and from. The gamekeepers would be constantly in and out, checking on the pheasants, deer, and other creatures who live and are hunted within. If people were continuously walking into a royal forest and never coming out, those woods would be cleared in a matter of days, and any “pagans” skulking inside rounded up and hanged.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself. We haven’t gotten to the pagans yet. All we get in this episode is a mysterious warning from Bash about never going into the woods, and the ominous conversation between Bash and his mother at the end that reveals Mary’s freshly-returned dog, Stirling, (who we’ll finally see again in season 2) must’ve been lured inside the wood by the scent of fresh blood.

We also catch our first glimpses of Clarissa (though we don’t know she’s Clarissa yet), the castle “ghost” who slips in and out of palace rooms unnoticed and warns Mary against drinking the wine at Elisabeth’s wedding. She’s creepy looking, for sure, but doesn’t come across as a bad guy. At least, not yet. The pilot has her appear and disappear in ways that make you wonder, “Hmmm…is there something supernatural going on here?” But, just as with the pagan Blood Wood storyline, I know how disappointing the ultimate resolution here is going to be. In fact, by the end of the season, the Blood Wood Full o’ Killer Pagans just sort of ceases to be a huge deal to the series, and by the time we reach Mary and Francis’s wedding a little over halfway through, Clarissa is basically gone for (almost) good. It's a lot of build-up for storylines whose resolutions are a resounding meh.

All of this is my long-winded way of saying that the show needed a good villain, and though the pilot proves that Mary is in serious danger at court, all the threats set up here either disappear eventually or are proved ridiculously lame. I personally feel the show would have been better off investing in some long-term bad apples. A powerful rival family (like the Bourbons, only Mary doesn’t sleep with one of them), a treacherous advisor (but, unlike Narcisse, a truly evil one who doesn’t double as a sexy anti-hero), or perhaps even a devilish cardinal (hey, it worked for The Musketeers). We want Mary to triumph, but triumph over what, exactly? Other than the English, who really don't feature in the episode at all, it's all very vague.

And now for Mary herself.

Here we are introduced to a girl who is sweet-natured and romantic, though prone to self-doubt and bursts of temper. She loves her dog. She’s eager to please. She takes delight in simple things and wears her wide-open heart on her sleeve.

I barely recognize her.

By the end of season 2, Mary was my least-favorite character on the show, aside from Conde. Revisiting the pilot episode, I’m suddenly reminded of why I liked her so much in the beginning, and why I shipped her so hard with sweet golden baby Francis. As Mary, Adelaide is all starry eyes and dimples, with a quick smile that so easily melts into hurt and sadness. I don’t want to elbow this Mary in the kidney; I want to protect her from all the forces trying to destroy her sweet spirit. When a grief-stricken Lola angrily asserts that she and Mary are not friends, that Mary is instead her queen and a constant source of danger to the girls, I want to yell, “Then why are you here? You’re not a prisoner. Go home!”

(After showing her jealousy over Colin at the wedding and then basically victim-blaming Mary for her sexual assault, I wonder at the writers’ choice to have Lola be the one to sleep with Francis later in the season. Was there meant to be some long-simmering yet unspoken tension between Mary and Lola? Once again, I'm getting ahead of myself. I’ll come back to this later.)

By the time we get to the episode's Big Event (aka the wedding between Elisabeth Valois and Philip II of Spain, which is somehow occurring before the death of his wife Mary Tudor--but I digress), Mary has had interactions with both Bash and Francis, running the gamut from flirtatious to contentious. The first time I watched this ep, I hadn’t firmly staked my flag on either ship at this point.

And then came this moment.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Yes, she smiles at Bash first. But when she smiles at Francis, it immediately transitions to yearning. They step toward each other as if pulled by magnets. His defensive wall crumbles to ashes right in front of our eyes, and, reader, I was done. The almost-kiss at the end of the episode only cemented it. Frary. Frary all the way. Fray or I will burn this series to the ground.

All of this is especially poignant in hindsight. We know now that when Francis takes a step toward Mary, he’s also taking his first step toward Death.

The feathers fall.

And the clock starts ticking.

FINAL THOUGHTS

I was surprised by how much I enjoyed revisiting this episode. No show has made me feel as much or disappointed me as much as Reign, but this episode reminded me of why I started caring about it in the first place. For starters, it looks amazing. The interiors, the exteriors, the rich fabrics and colors…it’s all so well done. The modern(ish) costumes, which were a major point of contention for some people, didn’t bother me then and don’t bother me now. And though I love history (the Tudors being my particular wheelhouse), I understand what they were going for here. They’re sort of taking the Hamilton approach (no, it's not a perfect analogy) to historical events, in which there is an unspoken understanding that the audience knows that events are being condensed and rearranged and sometimes flat-out made up for the sake of the story. If you continually get hung up on so-so wasn’t even there, that happened years later, she never loved him like that, you’re going to miss out on all the fun. Not to mention some amazing music.

The pilot episode promises romance and intrigue with a splash of supernatural horror, and it delivers. It’s frothy, silly entertainment.

But Reign won’t always be.

On to episode 2...

#reign #reign 1x01 #frary #reign revisited #adelaide kane #toby regbo #what the fuck am i thinking

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