"These Broken Wings"

Summary: Jumping ahead with the Narcisse and Catherine saga, this is what I wanted for them, because my Queen still deserves to be LOVED.

AN: Because it they are going to keep Narcisse around-this is the way it needed to go. Not painting our Queen like some desperate psychopath, even though i'd like it more if he were gone.

Rating: T

She could handle this one of two ways. In her typical, Medici, fashion she could rant, rave, and scream-then leave him. Or she could try something different. The last few weeks had brought with them renewed clarity. Sleepless nights, and nostalgic events had caused Catherine to think back on the events of her marriage. She remembered the happy times, the early years, but most of all she remembered the downfall. The moments where Henry had run to the arms of another-or had he run? Had she pushed him? He always told her that she pushed him away because she grew bored of him when they couldn't produce an heir soon enough. She would never openly admit that she truly feared that more than anything. That she was ultimately responsible for the downfall of their terrible marriage; that she had somehow pushed him back into the arms of Diane. Henry would beg her, plead with her, to give her heart to him. To open her soul and have a real emotional connection with him. However, she had never learned anything about love other than the fact that it was a delusion; and that men didn't want love. They wanted lust, and whatever wasn't willingly given to them; they would take. She was damaged. She knew it, but she couldn't shake this feeling. She cared for Stefan. She had grown to love his company, but she didn't trust herself to break old cycles. She was heartbroken at the news relayed back to her by Charlotte.

How much he would have cherished her-Catherine scoffed at the words Charlotte overheard him say, "Rubbish." She took a deep breath, rising from her desk slipping into a regal facade.

"Madeline?"

The youngest member of her flying squad came rushing in giving a delicate curtsy, "Yes your Grace?"

"Would you please go and find Lord Narcisse and tell him that I desire his company for dinner this evening."

The young woman looked confused, "My Lady, forgive me, but dinner? Most of the kitchen staff is gone and provisions are low and-"

Catherine held a hand up to stop her babbling, "There will be no dinner, Madeline. Please-for once just do as you're told without questioning me."

She curtsied again then left the room. Catherine felt the beginnings of a headache building from the back of her neck. An impending war, a man who was fighting for her love then betrayed her trust, her legacy and family name at risk of being destroyed by a damned Bourbon Prince-it was all too much.

She decided to change clothes. Stefan loved her in Red. She would wear something that would warm him up quite nicely. She tried desperately to ignore the nagging pain that clutched at her chest each time her thoughts strayed to Narcisse.

you came out of it thinking you were unlovable.

How right he was. Henry's many indulgences had done irreparable damage to her soul. She'd forgotten the alternative to living any other way but with Henry's humiliation. She'd learned it so well that she learned how to be the stoic Queen on one side as Diane stood on another. The whispers of the people, the lies and rumors that were spread, she'd learned to live with it all. Doing that takes a great amount of playing a part. Not showing your hurt or weakness anywhere but behind closed doors-that takes a will that is fiercer than nature's fury. She had perfected it. What she was about to do, however, would blow that cover to pieces and possibly cost her more than she'd ever been willing to pay. She'd been willing to bend to a man's will at one time, bottle up emotions and fears, and stand in the background waving a white flag of surrender while he continued on as he pleased. She wouldn't do it again. Stefan had fought for her to trust him. She would show him that she does-despite his kiss with Lola, and the fact that he was a man known for his many conquests of young, noble, women. Even giving Catherine De Medici a second glance was uncommon for a man like Stefan Narcisse.

Give up this idea that no one can know you, and still love you.

If that was what he wanted, to really know Catherine, to know what her fears were and for her to open her heart to him, he would get that. She just hoped that he wouldn't be sorry for what he'd wished for.

AN: I only continued this story because I had received a lot of requests to do so! As always, I write for you all! Much love!