My Life As The Dauphin

Quelle Ètait Ma Vie Avant

I DO NOT OWN REIGN. ALL RIGHTS BELONG TO THE CW. I WAS INSPIRED TO WRITE THIS STORY AFTER READING A GAME OF THRONES STORY WHERE A FAN IS TRANSPORTED INTO TOMMEN'S BODY. SHOUTOUT TO SUNLIGHTSTARS FOR BETAING THIS STORY. I TOOK THE INSPIRATION FOR NOLAN FROM A DEAR FRIEND OF MINE.

FACE CLAIMS
NOLAN AYERS-RORY CULKIN

American University of Paris. Paris, France. March 14, 2023.

I am Nolan Ayers and this is my story. The story of how I became the king of France. I cannot write this story myself, for this sickness from which I suffer has crippled me. Therefore, I am dictating this story to a good friend of mine: Leith Bayard. He will write down the words. I am writing this story, not for the public to read; as they would write my ass off as a madman, or a warlock, or a demon or something like that. No, I am writing this story for Mary Stuart, the Queen of Scotland and France; My queen, my wife, my one true love.

This story is being written because Mary, my Mary, deserves the truth about her husband and king. She believes that I am Francis Valois, but I am not Francis; I never was and I never will be. I've always felt such guilt for having deceived Mary, even though I tried to be the best husband I could have been and have come to love her. But since I'm practically on Death's doorstep, I don't want to go to my grave having spent our entire marriage lying to her like a cowardly connard. Therefore, Mary will know the entire story of how I came to be Francis.

My name is Nolan Ayers. I was born and raised in a town called Kalispell, in the great state of Montana. I had a pretty uneventful childhood, if I'm being completely honest. My mom died in childbirth with my younger sister, Crystal. My old man was a raging alcoholic and a mean drunk to boot. I learned from a young age that you can only really count on yourself in this world.

For years, Crystal and I only had each other, having been deprived of love and affection by our "parents", if they can honestly bear those titles. However, even the safe haven that was my sister was taken away from me. I was 17 while she was 15 when one of her reprobate ex-boyfriend invited her to a party and she, like hundreds of thousands of other teenagers in Montana tried meth for the first time. Soon enough, all Crystal ever did was meth; She became unrecognizable; even to herself. Crystal stole money, sold herself, robbed houses, and in doing these things, burned down any bridges that had ever been built.

I was able to figure out pretty fucking quickly that there was just absolutely no future for me in Montana; like whatsoever. Luckily, I had options. At my high school, they offered French as a foreign language course. I decided to take French 4 years in a row and became fluent in the language. I decided that I wanted to get as far away from my fucked up family as I could and from what I can only describe as divine providence, I was granted a scholarship to the American University of Paris in France.

It turned out to be a Godsend for me. The city and the people were far more healthy for me than the messed up hometown that I came from. I made quite a few friends and I felt like I was able to put the horrors of my life in Montana behind me. What really gave me some solace was watching Reign. I had discovered the show back when it was still on Netflix in 2020 and I found it to be quite entertaining indeed. To be fair, I knew next to nothing about Mary Queen of Scots when I started watching it, and I'm certain that they took liberties with the true story. However, I loved the show all the same. I was especially a huge shipper of Francis and Mary; or Frary as their fans affectionately branded them. My only other favorite character was Lola Fleming. To be honest, if Mary hadn't existed, I feel like she and Francis could have worked.

In season 1, their relationship had seemed so doomed, but so beautiful at the same time. However, season 2 showed Francis and Mary at their absolute worst. It honestly made me question why they even got together in the first place. When I finally got a chance to save Francis's relationship with Mary, it was a far more daunting task than I thought. It all began one night in my dorm room. My roommate had gone over to his boyfriend's dorm to hook up and I was left on my own.

I decided to binge watch Reign for the 50th time as I got high on a new brand of marijuana that a friend had smuggled into France. It was a variant called Mexican Joker and the rumor was that it gave you a high like no other brand of pot could. As I lit up and shut up, I had gotten to the point where Mary was in her bathtub with the mythic bitch Catherine de Medici holding a blade to her throat. As the action played out on the screen, I began to fall into a weed induced haze. I had experienced such a feeling before, but this was a different sort altogether.

As I faded in and out of consciousness, it was as if the colors of the chamber and the characters within slowly faded out of the TV and their essence seemed to envelope me like a warm blanket that you knew you needed to remove at some point, but wanted to push off the point of removal as far as possible. I was unaware at that moment, but my life, as I knew it, had come to an end.

REVIEWS NEEDED AND APPRECIATED