#fraryfic

[the-lost-book-thief]

The history nerd in me won’t allow me to write an historical story where my babies get a happy ending so angst filled modern AU it is. Lord help me, I’ve haven’t written anything in so long.

[leianaberrie]

The Wolf and The Huntress

The Scent

Lola fumbled with her buttons while he watched her watch him through the glass. She smiled a little and stopped when he just stared.

“I won’t come back again,” she snapped.

“That’s what you said the last time.” He sounded bored.

She twirled on him, blinking back tears of anger. “Can’t you pretend that you care, even just a little?”

He blinked. “And you? Do you care about me? What about Colin?”

She flushed and looked away.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Then he sighed, and got out of bed. She looked up to see him walking towards her, his body lean and hard, dense with scars and muscle. She swallowed. The Hungry Wolf, they called him. And she could see why.

He touched her cheek and despite herself, she leaned into it. “It would not do to fall in love with me, Lola.”

She pulled back. “Because of your French nun?” The moment she said the words, she regretted them.

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Nothing.” She said hastily and tried to turn away, and he pulled her right back. “Let go, you’re hurt-”

“So you’ve been listening to tavern gossip, have you?” His voice was still gentle, but now a softness that coated poison. “Have a care, Lady Lola that you don’t become tavern gossip, yourself.”

She gasped “You promised me. My reputation…”

“Means nothing to me. So I would counsel you to look to it, yourself. If you go about asking for stories about the Bastard of France, it’s only a matter of time before people start wondering why. And start wondering where you go and what you do when you’re supposed to be in service of your mistress.” He smiled then, unkindly. “Not that I care.”

He turned his back to her, walked away. He was completely naked and she was fully clothed but she was the one who felt the most vulnerable.

“Your nun would care,” Lola hissed, because he was hurting her without even trying and she needed to lash out. “Wherever she is, she would care and she would despise you for this.”

Did she imagine that his shoulders seemed to stiffen? Otherwise he made no sign that her words even touched him.

“Make haste, Lady Lola, before your mistress comes searching for you.”

There was a knock on the door and a guard’s voice.

“Lady Lola, the Queen demands an audience.”

Lola shrieked.

Francis raised an eyebrow. “Speak the Devil and he appears.”

“Lady Lola, do you have company?”

A chorus of giggles followed. Oh no, that meant Mary and one or two others – Kenna, at least if the giggles meant anything.

Francis opened his mouth to speak and Lola flew across the room to cover his lips with her hand.

“Be quiet,” she begged. “You’ll ruin me!” In a raised voice, she said, “Give me a moment to be decent.”

“My lady, Her Majesty…”

“I’m sure Her Majesty does not wish to see me at my chamber-pot.”

The giggles increased.

Francis’s lips were smirking beneath her hand. She pushed him towards the inner door. It was like pushing a hill. “Hide.”

“You jest,” he said. He was not whispering, but his voice was low enough at least.

“Loh-lah, are you hiding a gentleman in your chambers?” That was definitely Kenna’s singsong lilt.

“I.beg.you,” Lola said, pleaded. “I beg you. Don’t ruin me.”

He looked at her, considering. “You will owe me for this.”

She shivered. Even then, she knew she was dooming herself. “I will. I do.”

He turned away, slipped behind her screen and into the adjoining room.

“Mary, it seems like Lady Lola might be busy at the moment…”

Kenna fell silent as Lola flung the door open.

“You were saying?” Lola asked, glaring at her.

Kenna glared back. “Oh don’t be so fussy. As if you’d ever do anything to sully your perfect reputation.” She flounced into the room, Aylee giggling a little in her wake. Lola would have gone in right after them but Mary’s hand stopped her.

Lola turned to her friend’s gentle smile.

“I’m sorry, Mary, I really was…”

“Don’t be silly, Lola. We just wanted to give you these,” she handed over the ropes of pearls in her hands.

“Oh my Queen, oh my! What did I ever do to deserve these?”

Mary hugged her. “You’ve been my friend… the friend of the soon-to-be-wife of the next King of England.” She laughed, and there was no hiding the bitterness in her eyes. “My future husband has a generous father and I am a generous friend.” Her eyes twinkled then. “Besides I feel guilty that you’re stuck in the castle all the time with things like speeches and seating arrangements while I’m out and about with the others.”

Lola’s mind flashed briefly on all the ‘work’ she had got done today and reddened a little. “That’s OK, Mary. Please say hello to Greer for me. I hope she gets better soon.”

“Of course, I will.” Mary smiled, then nodded at the other two. “Kenna, Aylee, come along.”

Lola looked back to see Kenna standing in front of her inner door, a hand reaching for the knob.

“Kenna!”

Kenna dropped her hand and stared at Lola. There was undecipherable look in her eyes.

“Kenna, would you like to stay with Lola and work on my speeches while Aylee and I go over to Kinross?” Mary asked.

Kenna looked at Mary, then at Lola.

Lola swallowed.

“What is it, Kenna?” Aylee asked. “Is there really a man in there?”

Kenna smiled. “In Lola’s rooms? I’d have better chance of finding an elf than a man.” She brushed past Lola and left.

Aylee smiled in her usual sweet manner. “I’d have helped you with the speeches…”

“Oh go on you,” Lola gently shoved her through the door. “Stop feeling guilty, all of you. You know I love writing speeches.”

She curtsied to her Queen and closed the door on Kenna’s prying eyes. She waited until she couldn’t hear their footsteps again, then she bolted it shut and leaned against it, breathing deeply as she closed her eyes.

She opened them to see the Wolf’s eyes drilling holes in her face.

For the second time, Lola shrieked.

“Who.was.that?” he asked. His voice sounded like if he was being tortured.

“Who?”

“That wo… those women. Who were they?”

“My friends… my Queen.”

“Give.me.names.”

She stammered out their names, too confused to say anything else.

“And their features? How do they look like?”

“What?”

“Describe each to me. In detail. Leave nothing out. The color of their hair, their eyes.”

“Dauphin – I don’t understand…”

He took a step towards her and she recoiled. His eyes were boring into her face like daggers, searching, searching, searching for what? The images of her friends in her eyes? There was a desperation in in his eyes that she had never seen the like of. It frightened her beyond words.

He gave her one last searing look and then with a snarl, he was gone.

[pannabags]

stars fell.

au-ish, inspired by the Bash/Kenna falling stars scene in the finale. Mary never left French Court, and young Francis wakes her up in the middle of the night because stars are falling. Sometimes they speak French because I'm pretentious.

“‘Mary! Mary wake up!”

This wasn’t happening. Her Grace Mary of Scots was not being awaken in the middle of the night by the stupid, pretentious Dauphin of France that Francis II was.

She was going to rest peacefully until morning and then-

"Mary! Marie! I know you’re not actually asleep, come on!"

Well, so much for that.

"For the love of God, Francis, why are you not asleep?" she mumbled as she tried to wake herself as gracefully as possible. She hated when he intruded into her rooms like that and she wasn’t fully dressed, he didn’t seem to mind, or notice, but she didn’t look proper at all, and this kind of closeness between them, it was even less proper, but he didn’t worry about these things.

"Stars are falling. Come, you have to see this!" he explained excitedly as he pulled her covers away and dragged her out of bed by the hand.

"But, but I’m not dressed" she weakly protested as she followed him to the window without leaving his hand. He had such poor manners and strong feelings for someone who was going to be a ruler someday, she honestly worried for him, for what people might to do to him someday.

But then, he grabbed a blanket and placed it over her shoulders, opened the window and pulled her in a hug, and she didn’t worry anymore.

"Look" he said, and she obeyed. Glittering lights were traveling through the sky fast as lightning, one following the other, like soldiers lead by their king.

She shifted her head in the crook of Francis’ neck and he pulled her closer, then started rubbing her back.

"You’re not too cold, are you, mon cheri?" he asked as he felt her adjust to his barely formed chest.

"I’m just fine" she assured him "but I still want you to hold me."

She liked it when he hugged her, even if he had sneaked into her rooms, and even if she wasn’t properly dressed, and she could feel his chest against her small breast (which probably meant he could feel her just as well.)

Stars kept falling, riding all over the universe and lightning up the sky, like fairy dust in children’s books.

In all glorious fourteen and a half years of her life long reign, Mary had rarely seen things of equal beauty, let alone from such a comfortable position.

"Thank you for this" she whispered against his neck "Truly, it’s perfect."

Francis nodded and brushed his fingers through her dark loose curls.

"I hope it is" he then said "I doubt we’ll ever be seeing anything like this again."

"Well, I hope we do. It would mean we will have a long reign, if we did."

"We’d have long lives, Marie."

And Mary, or at least Marie, she really wanted to agree with him, to see the years to come as more than the prosecution of her reign, think of her first of kiss, her marriage, her children and the life they’d have, all gold and gowns and crowns on their heads, but all she saw was war and intrigues and her cousin Elizabeth asking for her head.

She was little more than a child, barely a girl and so much a queen, and this was too much for her.

Prince Francis, Francois le Dauphin, he was so much different from her (all the Valois were, as a matter of fact.)

He was barely a boy, and not slightly a king, and he dared and sneaked into a queen’s room at night, dared and held her like they’d pronounced their vows already, dared and made her feel like she wasn’t alone in the world.

"We will have long lives, Mary, you and I."

He was barely a boy and not slightly a king, but oh so much a man.

Sometimes, and maybe tonight, she believed him.

Stars were falling like fairy dust, his curls were gold and his chest was warm, and why on Earth not, why would God not want them to have that life, why would fate go and turn this around, when such a perfect match had been made already?

She believed him, she decided, because if stars can fall, people can too, perhaps even royals, and perhaps God will let them get away with this.

That night, stars fell, and so did Mary.