Side Note - Inspired by Medici - The Magnificent - Season 2/Episode 8
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"No!"
Francis looks up at the scream of Marie de Guise, turning his head towards the sound of Mary's mother's voice. But the loud bang to his left interrupts this action, where he sees the church's pugh in front of them slide foreword with force one man was not easily capable of. In a moment, he is confused, but the moment is quickly over.
Because people begin to scream.
He gasps in horror as he sees Mary's body fall forewords, a bloody blade remaining in place just behind her. There's no time to see who her attacker was, because he's gripped by his hair and yanked backwards, the sharp side of a blade pressed just above his collarbone. His own mother shrieks as she blade slides across his neck, and he too falls foreword, gripping his own neck.
Then the chaos happens.
People begin to scream in fear, getting up, making a beeline for the doors of the cathedral, but there's no order. People scuffle and trip over each other, jamming close together, screaming and crying, unable to get out of the cathedral fast enough. He can vaguely hear the screams of his mother, and the ones of Mary's own carrier, through the sound of his pulse through his ears. He faces the floor, blood dripping onto the wood beneath his face.
The real struggle begins.
Looking up, he sees his young wife tussling with her attacker for the blade he held. There's no face to the figure, just the off green-black coat he wears, the leather of his boots that hold no defining characteristics. He allows himself a smile to the sight of his pretty young wife holding her own in the face of a man. But that's quickly extinguished as he's grabbed by the shoulder. Unwilling to die this day, the young blonde begins to fight in his own right, tussling and testing strength with the faceless male until the blade he holds scatters along the flooring with a loud ring!
Then a blade appears in front of his face, but it's the handle of a blade.
He blinks at it, confused, before he realises that his wife stands there, her face dripping in her own blood, holding out the blade she'd fought for, giving it to him. His mouth opens, and he takes it without a word. A word doesn't slip from his lips in the next moment, but a scream does, as suddenly the faceless villain Mary had been fighting with suddenly lunges forewords and gets a substantial blade through her torso. Mary's mouth opens silently, her body loosing its tension for a moment, before he screams out again as the blade enters and exits on the other side of her torso.
"No!"
He screams out desperately, but he's cought up in his own fight again as his own attacker lunges at him. He shoves the blade through the man's shoulder, and then again in his chest, as his mother screams his name over and over and over. Francis glances over, seeing his mother being restrained by his father. Marie's held back by her brother Claude. She's in hysterics, screaming out for her daughter.
He hasn't seen it yet.
He gasps for air after the man above him finally goes limp, before looking over towards where Mary just was. He nearly vomits on the limp body when he sees his wife being restrained by one villian, the other using the large blade to stab her body over and over and over, until blood spills from her mouth and the colour drains from her skin.
Then she falls to the ground.
Francis goes to get up, but he's floored by a knee to his bloody face. He grunts, the room now silent apart from the cries of the mothers, the grunts and the swooshes of clothing as Francis is advanced upon. He inhales roughly, managing to get the back of the first one's knee when he tries to knee him again. The other falls quickly after a backswing to the throat. He grunts in pain, dancing with the blade of his foe until the bastard falls down dead.
Then he runs to Mary.
"No, no." he sniffles, touching her limp body. She's bloody, her eyes are closed, her body is limp. Gently, he kneels in front of her, placing the back of her neck on his thigh, sitting her up slightly. He gasps in delight, tears beginning to slide down his cheeks as her eyes flutter open. They're surrounded by Marie, Claude, Henri and Catherine.
"God, Mary." Marie weeps, touching her daughter's bloody chest and torso until her hands are coated in the crimson liquid. Mary doesn't talk, only gasps in a shaky breath, her body beginning to go limp in her husbands' arms.
"I should have protected you." Claude breathes.
"You-you'd never let me outlive that." Mary breathes shakily. Claude lets out a wet chuckle.
"Who hurt you, baby?" Catherine asks her daughter n law, grasping her hand.
"Tu-Tudor crest." Mary murmurs. "The-the Tudors're going to hell for this." she inhales shakily.
"We'll make sure of it." Henry swears. "You have my word."
Mary's eyes begin to flutter closed.
"Mary!"
She opens them to see Greer's wide eyes, and the blonde drops to her knees at Mary's feet.
"Hey." she whispers, tears sliding down the sides of her face. She looks up at Francis. "S-sorry, you're going to have to live without me. I-I wish I could have given you something to remember."
"You did, you did. You're the most perfect, beautiful wife I could have ever wished for. I'll never love anything or anybody like I do you." he sniffles. "Wait for me, wait for me, my love."
"I'll wait for you." she whispers. "I love you, Francis." she weakly says.
But he cannot respond, because by the time he's opened his mouth, her eyes close and her body sags. Catherine and Greer, they break out into cries. Marie begins to sob. But what does Francis do?
He lays the body of his wife onto the floor and gets up, gripping the blade that took her from him, beginning to storm out of the Cathedral, ready to butcher those bastards that dared harm the one he loved the most.