Tu Es Ma Lumière

5 - Support

The Queen of France hurriedly rushed out towards the courtyard. She heard the cheers and applause of their court, or what was left of it. All she focused on was him, the dark fatigue under his dull blue eyes that had once shone so bright. She waited impatiently as he slowly got off his great stallion, mindful of undoubtedly stiff limbs. Her heart thumped in anticipation, in anxiety, as he slowly turned from the horse to his wife.

Mary's lips parted as she took in the red rims around his beautiful eyes. She tried to speak, but didn't know what to say.

As it turns out, she didn't really have to. Mary watched as he hurriedly crossed the courtyard towards her, letting out a gasp as he collapsed into her embrace. Her arms bound around him immediately, tightening around his warm satin doublet. Grateful that it looked to the courtiers as though they were simply holding each other, Mary kissed his messy blonde curls as his shoulders shook underneath the thick cape he wore.  She heard his sobs, cooed gently into her husband -her King's- ear, rubbing his back.

"What happened?" her voice sounded almost childlike, her own exhaustion showing through the duo of words. It'd been weeks since he'd left her, at times, she thought he'd never come back to her. Her body trembled with the relief of having him again, warm, alive, still in the land of the living.

"Lola," he started. Mary swallowed thickly, looking over his shoulder for any sign of a carriage or the Lady herself on horseback. But all she saw was a battalion of men -why they were there, she didn't know- and their obvious leader soaking up appreciation from the Queen Mother of France as she thanked the olive skinned man for bringing her golden child back to her. "She-" he cut himself off. Sensing that this tale would break him, Mary lead him into the court and up into their new chambers.

She sat him down on their new bed, curled up to his side. "What happened?" her voice was the same as before, both exhausted and relieved, but her hands shook as she took every inch of her husband in.

"I-I rode day and night to the house where she was in-" he trailed off. Mary bit back the pain and resentment of the situation with Lola and her husbands' child. Now wasn't the time for it, especially when her husband was in such dire need of comfort. She gave him it, pressed kisses to the skin of his neck and ran her fingers through the long blonde locks that were in dire need of washing. She wrapped her arms around him, took his fatigued weight with almost ease as her husband slumped into her. "she had a girl." he revealed. Mary relaxed. If the bastard was claimed, it wouldn't have a viable claim to the throne, whereas it would if it were born a male. "She was bleeding badly when I arrived, exhausted and in tears." he stated. Mary nodded, kissed the side of his head as she lay them both down onto their new bed.  He curled into her, lay his head upon her breast, legs tangling with hers over the black satin skirts she wore. His arms bound around her as tight as hers around him. Sensing she knew where this story was going, Mary let him continue in his own time, gently kissing his face and hair, stroking his back and massaging the tense muscles. His embrace tightened with the next phrase, as if he was afraid she'd be taken away from him. "The baby-" he stopped. Mary's lips parted at the crack in his voice, the tremor in his breath. She tried to comfort him as much as possible, hoping to take all the pain he felt inside away from him. "the baby didn't survive. She was stillborn." he revealed, whimpering the words out. Mary exhaled in sympathy, kissed his forehead and tightened her arms around him as he broke down in tears. Not for Lola, she knew, but for his child who had never seen the light of day.

"I'm sorry, my darling." she whispered as he held her with a bruising tightness, almost as if he was afraid she'd be taken from him as the child was.

"Lola explained everything, told me not to be angry with you about the baby. I'm not, I understand, I just-" he trailed off after several seconds of his tears, another to compose himself.

"I wanted to tell you," she whispered into his hair.

"I know, she told me. Right before she left this world." he revealed, burrowing his face into the crook of his neck, felt his hot tears slide down the delicate skin. She bit back her own grief for a woman who had never been the most loyal to her, but had still been dear to her.

"I'm so sorry, my love." Mary whispered into his skin as he curled into her further, childlike in the way he needed to be held. So, Mary held him, stroked his hair and murmured words of comfort into the beautiful, dull stands. He needed her, so she would be there.

But the news of her own conception could wait until another day.