return to france (Reign fanfic)

Chapter 1

(based on episode 1: Pilot of Reign)

I.

I sat down at the long table, the sun shining on the green grass surrounding us all. I was the only young girl, besides Mary, at the convent. The rest around us were aging nuns, who treated us like daughters. 

Mary sat beside me, a light smile on her lips. Her long black hair fell down to her waist, parted only by a glimmering white tiara on her head. 

"Can we keep playing after dinner?" I asked. The nuns still played with me, but told me I was getting too old to kick a ball around all day. At thirteen, they insisted, I must be getting some more womanly experience. But they had no control over Mary, who was the sovereign Queen of Scotland.

"Sure," she promised. She raised a spoonful of porridge to her lips, blowing on it slightly. 

I looked up and saw Sister Helen take a spoonful as well, sipping hers through her thin, pale lips. She met my gaze, and I smiled, but her face remained a blank expression. She raised her hand to her throat.

I screamed, the sound slicing the lightness of our atmosphere. Blood was trickling down Sister Helen's chin, and dropping with splats into her porridge, staining its whiteness. 

"Save Mary!" someone cried. One of the nuns, I couldn't tell which, rushed past me to grab my friend, and Mary, looking back at Sister Helen with horror, was rushed from the table.

She met my eyes once, a question of confusion rising, and I shook my head helplessly, unsure of what crime we had just witnessed.

II.

"It was an assassination attempt," Mary told me, her voice low and unsteady. It was the following day, and we were sitting in the grass, surrounded by nearly a dozen uneasy nuns, as guards from the French King, King Henri, loaded Mary's belongings into a carriage drawn by four beautiful chestnut horses.

"On Sister Helen?" I asked. "Why?"

"No, Rose, on me," Mary explained. "Apparently she was my taster for my food, and it was poisoned."

"Who would do such a thing?" I gasped.

"The English. The nuns explained it to me yesterday. Some of the English Protestants want me killed so they can claim my throne and retake theirs from my cousin Mary who is Queen of England."

"Because you and her are Catholics," I said, realization dawning. The rogue English Protestants wanted to kill my friend to take her throne, and then take her cousin's life as well. 

"And because we are women," she added. She looked to the North, the direction of the French palace, and the sun cast a heavy light into her rich hazel eyes. "When I marry Prince Francis, and when he becomes King, I will rule in France beside him as Queen of France and Scotland."

"You'll be safe there," I assured her. "You and Francis have always liked each other, he'll protect you."

"I haven't spoken to Francis for years," she said. "And I can't depend on a man's protection." She sighed and turned her eyes to me. "But I can depend on your friendship."

"What do you mean?" 

"You're coming with me."

My mouth fell open. "What do you mean? I can't come with you!"

"Of course you can. I've asked the nuns to fetch your things together. You will come with me to the French court, and we will face this adventure together, as we have always done." She looked at me and smiled, a genuine smile. "You've always been like a sister to me."