This is the first chapter of my very first Reign fanfiction. I am in love with this show and I cannot wait till January 23rd - only 15 more days to go!

Note: I have written this story, going with the knowledge that Reign, Wikipedia and the Internet can give me. I read that Francis grew up in a castle in Saint-Germain-en-Laye, so in my story, this is where they travel from. Saint-Pol-de-Léon was the place where Mary originally sailed to at the age of six. I try to incorporate history as much as I can, but you will find that I am taking liberties with history, just like the show does. I do not own Reign and I am actually glad that I don´t. I could never make it half as great as it is. I hope this story will be entertaining though. I apologize that the characters might be OOC at some points, but I did the best that I could.

Chapter One:

"You will be blamed for the death of the Queen´s firstborn," the words of Nostradamus were reappearing inside her mind as she looked back over her shoulders. She had to force herself to look away. Francis, her sweet Francis, was running to her, yelling her name over and over again in a voice that Mary could only describe as broken.

As she nudged the horse and rode past the trees of the long gravel road that led to the castle, she had to remind herself, though it hurt, why she was leaving.

"You will be blamed for the death of the Queen´s firstborn. You will blame yourself most of all. I see Francis, barely older than he is now, cold to your touch. You´re wed, but childless, alone at this court, without a friend to comfort you."

She was only aware that tears were streaming down her cheeks when they were too far away to hear Francis´ cries. Or did he stop? She didn´t know, but she could not risk looking back.

The Francis she had just seen was unlike the strong man that she loved. He was, in lack of a better word, broken. And it was all her fault. Everything was her fault, but it had been necessary. Yes, she had to believe that.

She couldn´t risk trusting the small part of her that hoped that Nostradamus was wrong, that he had misinterpreted the visions he´d had. No, he had been right every time he had made a prediction before; he had been right about the Lion and the Dragon fighting a battle to the death in a field of poppies, and he had been right about… She had to swallow a whimper. He had been right about Aylee.

She couldn´t resist the urge to look down at her hands to make sure that there was no more blood on them.

She took a deep breath and found that it was difficult. She was nearly hyperventilating.

She looked up to find Sebastian looking at her. He didn´t have to put words to the question in his eyes.

She couldn´t find the strength to tell him about the reason for her departure, not yet. She was certain the he would understand, after all, he knew more about dark magic and superstition, as Francis would call it, than any other she knew. She knew she could trust him.

For now, however, she wished for nothing more than be left to her own thoughts, no matter how much it hurt.

She had no inkling as to where they were traveling, but she could follow the sun. Her safest guess was west.

Neither she nor Sebastian spoke, and she supposed that he was waiting for her to speak first.

She tried to focus on her surroundings, but her mind continuously traveled back to the French Court and Francis. Did he hate her? She never wanted him to hate her, but she soon realized that it was better for him to hate her. She could never go back. He deserved someone better, someone who wasn´t scared and didn´t have a country hanging around her neck. It was painful, but she had to come to terms with the fact that she would never see Francis again. She would never see him smile and feel his arms around her again. She would never feel him touch her like he had just two nights before.

She was only partly aware of how much this would come back to haunt her in the future. She had lost her virtue, no, she had given him her virtue, and she could no longer wed any kings. What king would want a Queen who had already been touched by another man?

Midday turned to afternoon and soon the sun was disappearing in the horizon. For the first time since leaving the court, Sebastian spoke.

"We should camp for the night. It will be dark soon and it is too dangerous to travel through these woods at night. I am afraid that there is no town nearby, so this will have to do."

Mary only nodded in response and watched as he descended his horse. He walked to a small clearing, about 20 meters away and looked around. He seemed to be talking to himself, cursing some unseen person, before he returned to her.

She wouldn´t ask, but she wanted to know why he had needed to flee the Castle. What had happened?

Sebastian helped her down from her horse and led her to the clearing. It looked like he had cleared a spot for her and she wondered for a moment how she hadn´t noticed him doing so.

"Will you be warm enough?" he asked, the worried expression never leaving his features. Mary nodded again, wrapping her cape tightly around her shoulders. She lied down on the ground, finding it cold and hard, reassembling how she felt inside. She wasn´t comfortable, but her body was exhausted and she quickly found a restless sleep.

She awakened with a gasp. Light from a fire that Sebastian had started broke through the darkness that still surrounded them. She could see him getting up from his spot, leaning against a tree.

Had he been awake this entire time?

"Are you alright, Mary?" he asked as he sat down beside her.

Tears were streaming down her cheeks but she couldn´t find it in her to care about her appearance in front of Sebastian. He had already seen her at her most vulnerable, this was not much different. She found no reason to lie to him any longer.

In response to his question, she shook her head. She was not alright. She would never be alright before she was back with Francis, she was sure.

Soon, sobs were shaking her body and she wept into Sebastian´s shoulder. He held her close, but there was nothing romantic about the position. He was deeply concerned. Mary and his brother had been in a state of bliss, had they not? Since Olivia disappeared, they had been happy. Of course, Francis had been shaken and saddened to know that Olivia had vanished in the dungeons, but at that point, he had already realized that he loved Mary, and only Mary.

"What happened, Mary? Why did you leave?" he asked. He needed to know. Whatever it was, it was causing her nightmares.

"The Prophesy…" she sobbed.

Sebastian held her tighter. "What did Nostradamus see?"

Mary, now slightly less frightened and calmer, took a deep breath. She wiped away tears before she spoke in a trembling voice.

"Francis´ death…" Sebastian pulled back slightly to look at her. This time, however, he waited for her to continue on her own.

"He said that our marriage will seal his fate. I had to leave the Court or Francis would die and I would be blamed."

For a few moments, maybe minutes, both were silent. Mary was crying again and Sebastian didn´t know what to say. He seldom felt that way.

No words he could say would make this predicament that Mary had found herself in, any better.