𝒻𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒻𝓇𝒶𝓃𝒸𝒾𝓈 𝓈𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒾 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓁𝒶
for @theblondedistraction-caroline from the ‘5 Ways My Muse Says I Love You’ Meme (Closed.)
He doesn’t so much as notice her the first time that he’s near to her. Instead it’s Mary with her messy hair and spoken formalities. It’s the first time he feels the weight of what it means to be king. It is a domino in a series of others that will eventually send his life and everything he once knew cascading at his feet. But first there is a queen, and there are her ladies, and he has no reason to think that his destiny is not with the one who wears the crown.
Gambling, as it turns out, is not the same thing as being the dauphin, and it is not the same as promises of love whispered from someone’s lips sweetly, someone now engaged to his brother. It is the worst betrayal. He notices Lola then, suddenly there, a light in the darkness, her freedom a price that is worth his money. He does not see her, not truly, and then, he does. He’s never held someone’s attentions for hours speaking of everything in the world. He is mesmerized by her wit and her strength. Why hadn’t he seen it before? Was he so blinded to Mary’s fickle wills?
He makes love to her, although it still isn’t the same as real honest-to-god love love. But it’s something more than mere companionship. His body alights in the ways he touches her, in the ways she meets his touch, his pace, his wit. She is his equal in this: sweet lips, stubborn heart. He considers in this moment that he is no longer the king of anything, and he wonders if that would be enough to make her stay. He has not felt this alive in some matter of time. It is her name, and not Mary’s, that he whispers, fingers curled into dark hair as he falls apart.
They ride back to Fontainebleau. They make up an excuse, a reason for their being together that is sloppy and careless and not at all hidden were someone to go digging. They should both spare Mary’s feelings. Wishes of anything more than one night fade: Francis must return to secure his mother’s freedom, and Lola is always and forever Mary’s lady first. It can never be…not for all of the stolen glances and lingering touches in the world. Their paths run parallel to one another’s. It is more doomed than Nostradamus could predict. And still, he lingers, and still, his work drags on.
Mary and Sebastian wed. He is forced to bear witness to the treason of it all, forced to watch as they consummate. Henry draws it plainly for him in the sand: he must not be a threat to his brother’s rule. He must leave here and wed someone of title, but of little import to France. Stolen balcony kisses, midnight rendezvous, intelligent words spoken one-on-one with his equal. They are inappropriate at best, but they belong to Lola. “I love you,” he speaks breathlessly as he crashes into her, hands cupping her cheeks and pushing her back toward her bedroom, “Or at least I am beginning to.” A stolen kiss, an expectant look. Heart pounding, he’s waiting for an answer.
The magnificence of Fontainebleau and everything at the French court, so different form her homeland shines so bright to her that she is blinded by amazement during their first meeting. She follows all the appropriate protocol, he is the dauphin, but more importantly he is Mary’s and back then her heart was with Colin. He was good looking, that was plain to see but to her Francis was a distant figure to her expanding universe in her new life. In fact if they must be honest, it was the dark haired boy behind the prince who she admired first, the King’s illegitimate older son.
Frightened, she refused to show it but she was frightened. She usually considers herself a brave girl, her father had raised her to be a brave lad that could stand up to her brothers and take care of things, which was what had landed her in this position in the first place. She had come to rescue her brother once again, but she didn’t expected to be part of the payment herself. And then he was there, her savior came in the form of a very familiar face, yet she couldn’t say she really know him. They had barely said 10 sentences to each other since meeting and yet here he was, offering an insane amount of money to save her. Thank God he won her, she had never felt so happy to be a prize as she did leaving with her hand on his towards his chambers in the gambling house.
Just one night was enough to discover a whole new person, she had an idea of him, an idea of who he was, but she was so wrong. The image of him had been formed from what Mary told them about him, his hot and cold attitude, his lady friends. But Lola realized that that was Prince Francis, the dauphin of France. The man that was sitting beside her, the one she had spent the whole day and night talking with about anything was incredibly smart, funny, witty, deep, and she never had someone made her so eager to know them and know about their opinions and thoughts on pretty much anything as he had. No one has ever listened to her with true interest like he had. This was not the Prince, he was just Francis, and he was someone she felt a strong pull towards.
She gives herself to him, willingly, freely, happily, eagerly. It’s more than just intercourse, it’s not lust, it comes from a deeper place and deeper feeling. There’s a need in her to feel him, to have him so close that she doesn’t know where she ends and he starts. She wants this, wants him, and she holds nothing back. She stops thinking and just let her feelings guide her every move. She kisses him with passion, every touch igniting a fire on her skin. Her whole body responsive to him in a way that it’s completely new to her, wonderfully new. She can’t say she’s in love, but she knows if given the choice, given the chance, she would choose to stay with him and do this over and over. Discovering new highs with him and maybe that’s as close to making love as she will know, because she was has never felt as free and open with anyone. She repeats his name over and over like a plea and Francis makes her feel things so intense that she must be dreaming. Afterwards, Lola curls into his naked body, his warm skin against hers feels so good. She places a soft kiss on his neck and snuggles there as sleep takes over her.
They go back together and as the castle comes into view she can’t tell if the whole in her stomach if from the nerves of being discovered about what they did or because she knows everything will change for them. And it does, the moment they set foot in Fontainebleau she knows Paris is long gone, just a memory that she must bury. They cross paths often and it’s different than before, now she can feel when he enters a room, she finds herself catching his eyes even from across halls full of people she can find his deep blue eyes.
The wedding comes, and she is ashamed to say that she breaths a sigh of relieve she never knew she was holding when the priest pronounce Mary and Sebastian man and wife. Deep down she had feared Mary would change her mind and she would be forced to witness her friend and queen marry the man that she sees every night in her dreams. She looks across the aisle and see the pain in his face witnessing the union and her heart feels heavy for him, wishing she could help him somehow. She dances and celebrates with her friends, then goes with Kenna and Greer and help Mary get ready for her wedding night. As a lady to the queen she is supposed to stay and bare witness but it feels so awkward that she feels lightheaded and she scurries out and back to her chambers.
She almost to her room when hurry footsteps echo down the hall. Lola turns around and it’s greeted with a pair of soft lips that she knows all to well, so she kisses him back forgetting where they are for a moment until he pulls back and says those 3 little words and her brain freezes as her heart beats 3 times faster. She lets him push them into her room and as soon as the door closes she blinks and her blue eyes lock with his deep blue eyes. Lola moves forward, cups his face with both hands and takes in a shaky breath, “Are you sure? Because I am sure, I love you”
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