Drawn and Quartered - 2x02 - Francis + Henry

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Prompt - Also maybe you could do a one shot of Henry still being alive when Jean is born and Henry giving Francis advice on weather or not to claim him?

Side Note - I'm taking a few liberties here, ladies and gentlemen, Henry's still alive in this one. He wasn't mad, nor did Francis kill him in the s1 finale.

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"I've heard of this dilemma you have." a voice said. Francis choked on the wine he had been drinking in surprise, his chest beginning to convulse, not expecting anybody to be in his chambers. He coughed up the red liquid, spitting it into a handkerchief. He threw the damp cream-maroon coloured item to the side, turning around to see his father sitting in the room.

Henry gave his son a long look, probably disapproving of his actions with the drink, before he got up from his chair. The King of France walked towards the Dauphin, the blonde heir looking him in the eye as the man came closer. "This dilemma you have, I've heard of it." he says again. Francis blinks, ready to deny, but says nothing in response. What was there to say?

"These Scottish women you have under your thumb and the poor unfortunate child, spawned from a Parisian rendezvous with unexpected consequences." he says it, although it doesn't really need to be said. The Dauphin is well aware of what his personal situation is. 

"Do you expect me to ask you for advise?" he snips, every inch his mother's son whenever he wanted to be. Henry grinned in response, having always enjoyed when this frail little boy bloomed with power or fury. Once, he'd threatened to have guards sent to the dungeons when they didn't leave he, his betrothed, his sisters and his bastard half brother, when they had begun climbing trees at the start of autumn.

"Not at all, but I thought I'd provide some worthy lessons in this area of manhood and Kingship." Henry replies to his son. Francis' chin raises in interest. "Before, however-" he trails. Francis doesn't have time to think of what that could possibly mean, before he is told what it means. The King's hand raises high behind his head, coming down harshly across his face. The Prince gasps in surprise as his face swiftly turns to the side. His hair blooms, covering his face on the riptide. He blinks in surprise, a hand coming to cup his throbbing cheek and throbbing lip. The Prince turns to his father slowly, looking at him silently. "What were you thinking of, you stupid boy?!" the King of France snaps. "The minute you hear the word plague, you run headlong into it? Did you take leave of your senses, Francis?!" he snaps, resisting the urge to hit him again. "For what? A widowed harlot and a bastard child?" he asks, gripping his heir by his shoulders, jerking him back and forth. "Have you learned nothing from your life? The measures we've always taken to keep you alive?" the King of France gruffs. "Everything that we've done to keep your heart beating? You do realise what would have happened if you had died, Francis? I am no longer a young man and your brother Charles is too young to be considered a suitable heir. You-you risked more than just yourself, you risked the future of France! The future of Scotland and England! If you had perished in plague, all hope for a brighter future for your country would have been lost with you! Not only thinking on a personal level, but on a personal one. What would have happened to your wife if you died? Childless, without her virtue? Sent away to a country that she does not know, outcasted and alone." Francis no longer could hold his fathers' eye. "You were stupid, Francis. Stupid and impulsive. A King can be none of those things!"

"I know I did wrong!" the heir apparent of France snapped back. "But in case it slipped your notice, I had just been told that I was to be a father, and the child was coming that instant! Not only that, but the child and his mother may die! The-the risks didn't matter in that moment, Father! All that mattered in that moment was the baby and seeing it, making sure it was alive." Francis finished, walking away from his father and King, pulling at his long blonde curls.

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