Pairing: Queen Catherine/Lord Narcisse
Rating: M / P16
Timeline: set after Season 3 – my own interpretation of how things could have turned out. I know that marrying Catherine off never happend – but that's the magic about fanfiction, right? Everything is possible!
Comment: As English isn't my first language – please have mercy on me ... or help me with a beta. ;o) It may take some time for new chapers as I write this fanfiction in German and translate it later on. Thanks for your patience.
A perfect imperfect match
Flickering candlelight dipped the French throne room into dim light. An unpleasant breeze of fresh air set a varity of candle flames into a wild dance and generated angry shadows on the walls. At this late hour there were only few people present and a massiv storm was gathering over their heads. One that didn't threatend to unload itself under the open sky but directly in between the stone walls of this very room.
"My son, if you surrender to these insolent demands that makes you seem weak. And weakness is something we cannot permit to ourselfes. Never."
"Mother! This is soley the decision of your king – my decision. I can no longer endure your permanent interference. Your ministration crushes me!"
The young king spat out these words and looked at his mother with such an icy glare that made Catherine de' Medici shiver. For the fraction of a second the Queen Mother closed her eyes, then she regally looked up to her son. Her very own mixture of defiance and ostinacy was written all over her face.
"Charles, there is not one person at this court who is more concerned with your welfare and the preservation of the power of the Valois family as me. You must not..."
Before his mother could even finish her sentence, the pale young man jumped up from his throne and hurried down the few steps that separated him from his mother. He draw himself up to his full hight, towering threateningly over a much smaller Catherine. In his gaze lay not only irritation, but openly displayed outrage and fury. With unnaturally widened eyes he glared at his counterpart, clearly angered by her behaviour. Now the attention of all persons present in the throne room were fixed on the fumished boy who tried to stare down his own mother.
"No mother. I have to do nothing at all. But it's you who have to finally understand that I am the one who reigns now. I'm not Francis and for sure I'm not father whom you could maipulate at will. I do not carry the power of the Valois on my shoulders, I AM the power! And you are no longer regent. You are merely the woman who gave me life and it's finally time that someone puts you in your place!"
With a stoic calmness that could force a weaker man to his knees, the queen-mother raised her chin and prized her son with a warning glare.
"You're speaking about power, Charles. A power under which you threaten to break. And I will not stand idly like this. Yes, the burden of the crown was imposed upon you way too early, and my heart aches at the thought of the burden of your shoulders, shoulders that are still so terribly young. But that's exactly why I stand by your side, loyal as well as concerned about your well-being and the well-being of France. For who would be better able to stand by you than I am? Everything I do, I do it for you, for the inheritance of the Valois. You are my son…"
"BE QUIET! Be quiet at last. I'm tired, mother! I'm tired of being used like a marionette by you, I'm tired that you always think you know everything better, and I'm pretty tired of you and your self-complacency. Your sly schemes, your tiresome power struggles against me, against my lord chancellor. Now it's time mother. Time to show you your limits. Father could not, and God knows how often he tried. Francis, my tenderhearted brother, could not do so either. However, believe me as I am standing here, I will no longer accept your pretentious behavior. This time, you will not wiggle out of it or wrap me around your finger with appeasing words. Now this comes to an end."
What followed was a breathless silence while the words of their king direfully hung in the air. The extent of this threat was beyond anyones reach. Catherine, who was shocked at her son's public adjudication, began to speak up with a certainly no less quick-tempered reply but was stoppend when the lord chancellor put his hand on her arm in a restraining gesture. Stephane Narcisse who had silently followed his young king's outbreak, cleared his throat audibly. Fascinated his gaze had wandered between Charles and Catherine during their heated battle of words, but now he had decided to intervene.
"Your Majesty, I understand your annoyance like no other, as I was already at the aim of an ingenious plan of your mother's revenge, however I ask you to refrain from a too harsh and imprudent act." Catherine, who hissed at Stephane's words indignatly, shook his hand from her arm and gave her former lover a deeply contemptuous look.
"Do not trouble yourself, Lord Chancellor. I need no advocate." Her icy words cut the cold air and Lord Narcisse inevitably shuddered. He had only returned from England a few weeks ago, without a wife but as a widower with little John in his arms, who he had left to the care of his grandmother. He would never forget how the gloomy and sorrowfull face of the Queen Mother had turned into a bright smile at the sight of the boy. One that had also reached her beautiful, almond-brown eyes.
Once there had been a time when Catherine de' Medici had smiled at him the exact same way. She had never looked more beautiful than in this lighthearted time that already seemed to date back an eternity.
Since his return to French court there was a strange, depressed mood between them. Lola's death, however, as well as their quarrels before his departure hung above their heads like a Damocles sword and prevented the previously acquired closeness between them from reappearing. Stephane did not know whether this was due to the assassination of his young wife and his grief or the countless power plays in the past that had set seeds of suspicion between them. The omnipresent sexual tension still existed, but neither he nor Catherine had dared to ignite the sparks of desire once again.
Maybe, maybe not," Charles replied cryptically, looking at his mother. "I have to think." One single movement of his hand was enough to set the guards standing at the doors in motion. "Guards, escort my mother to her chambers and position a post in front of them. For the time being she stands under arrest."
With heavy steps the two men approached Catherine and the former monarch could not suppress an eye-roll about this ridiculous situation. She had done many terrible things in her life that would justify such a treatment, however, her attempt to protect her son against the insolently arrogant claims of a self-complacent lord was no reason for such a rude treatment in her eyes. Catherine looked at the giant guard on her right side with a poisonous look that instantly prevented him from reaching for her arm.
Take your unwashed hands of me. I can find my rooms alone."
Not waiting for her sons and his guards reaction, Catherine de' Medici left the room gracefully with blowing skirts. A sign of the king send the flabbergasted guards behind her.
"One might think that all Valois men regard it as a new kind of popular sport to put me under arrest," the Queen Mother whispered angrily as she left the throne room. Before the heavy doors could close behind her, Princess Claude slipped into the room and with an amused expression she pointing at her departing mother.
"What did she do this time? It seems that I've missed all the fun." Even if mother and daughter were not in the same room, the tension that prevailed between them was still noticeable to outsiders.
Charles, who grudgingly interrogated his sister's question, returned to his throne and waved Narcisse up to him.
"What am I to do with her? Should I really exile my mother from court?"
The hardness he had displayed earlier had disappeared from his posture and Stephane caught a glimpse at the overstrained boy with the burden of France on his shoulders of whom Catherine had spoken before. Was this his chance to positively influence his king?
"Well, Your Majesty, one can endlessly hold forth about Catherine's motivation and immoral approach, but one thing I have no doubt about and that is her love and devotion for her children."
Claude gave a contemptuous sound. Narcisse, however, refused to get irritated by the Princess's obvious animosities and continued to speak unimpressed.
"And maybe there will be a situation in the near future where you will wish for your mother to be at your side. If you desire a certain distance for the time being send her to the country but I would strongly advise against such drastic measures as exile."
The last time a French king had sent Catherine de' Medici into exile she had sought the alliance with the enemy. In close vicinity Catherine was already dangerous, disowned and in the distance however, she would grow into an incalculable force of nature, of that he was certain. And even if he did not dare to pronounce this in public, Catherine had in fact made no attempt to undermine the dominion of her son in order to justify an exile. It weren't the doings of the Queen Mother he was worried about but the fluttering and at times even uncertain behavior of her son, which worried the Lord Chancellor above all measures.
"Exile? Mother may go into exile and I will be married off?"
Outraged at the obvious injustice in her eyes, Claude built herself up before the two men. The subject of marriage was still a sore spot and Catherine's rather disingenuous approach to free her daughter from her previous marriage and unpleasant husband had pushed another wedge between their already shaky relationship. In the end, this dubious action had caused Catherine to fall into disgrace with her children and it had once again snatched the regency from her as Charles has been declared as of full age. On the other hand Lord Narcisse has been appointed as Lord Chancellor.
"Princess Claude, this is not the right time to discuss this subject with you once more." Narcisse did not even try to hide his annoyance.
"Oh no?! I beg to differ." The young woman pouted. "I would prefer a banishment over a marriage. I do not need a man to rule over me."
With her hands clasped together, Claude looked from one man to the other as if her piercing gaze alone could change their minds.
"A man to rule over you?" Charles wrinkled his forehead and drove his fingers thoughtfully through his dark hair. "Sister, this is an excellent idea."
Claude stared at her brother in confusion and turned to Lord Narcisse, who was no less irritated.
"I simply marry her off and hand the responsibility over to her husband!", inspired by his idea the young king searched in his lord chancellors expression for approval. On the other hand Narcisse and the princess stared at their monarch with open mouths.
"You want to marry our mother off? Which poor guy do you want to punish this hard?"
Claude's bewilderment gave way to amusement and a giggle escaped her throat.
"With your permission, Your Majesty ...", Stephane began to protest. No matter how much hell on earth Catherine and he had given each other, the thought of seeing her bound to another man for eterity was all of a sudden much worse than a possible banishment. The image of her in the arms and bed of this still-faceless husband caused bitter bile to rise in his throat.
"No, my friend, do not try to talk me out of this great plan. It's downright perfect! Or do you think she's too old? Oh, what am I talking about?! There are enough old lords who are quite suitable candidates for a wedding with my mother. At the same time this could cause a lot of gold to flow into our state fund. Another plus."
"An ancient, tattled lord? How long do you think she will need to wrap him around her little finger? Or to serve him a delicious meal with a small, deadly garnish?" Claude expressed a thought Lord Narcisse did not consider unfounded. Charles also considered her words.
"Maybe you are right. We need someone to keep her in check. Someone who knows her games, who is up to her and will not be intimidated by her threats." Narcisse felt less and less uncomfortable with each passing second. The kind of man that King Charles described would be exactly the kind Catherine would secretly enjoy. Power and strength attracted her like candlelight attracted moths.
"Somehow I can get more and more out of this plan." The wide smile on Princess Claude's face could only be explained as a blast of joy. A fate that has been first thought to be hers would now come to her own mother. "Now you just have to find such a man. How about Lord Loboutain? Or Christian Besnier?"
"Lord Loboutain recently announced his engagement with one of the many daughters of the House of Germain," explained councillor Dupas, who has kept himself in the background. "And the health of Besnier is not to be the best."
"How very unfortunate. Then let us reconsider. There has to be a Lord who has the power to restrain my mother."
"You really want to marry your mother, Catherine de' Medici, off against her will?" Stephane Narcisse, who had hoped up to this moment that this prodigious plan of the young king would turn out to be nothing but an impulsive train of thought, looked at his ruler with a very doubtful expression on his face.
"This is exactly what I intend to do. And now think about it, Lord Narcisse, there must be more men besides you whose knees don't go week in a heated discussion with my mother."
Charles folded his hands together and looked up at the ceiling. He murmured names of noblemen who came to his mind, but which he seemed to reject immediately.
"Whom did you say by all means does not get shaking knees in the very presence of our beloved mother? And this someone, as I call it, has already savoured the forbidden fruit." Claude asked with a smug tone as she turned one of her locks around her finger and looked at her brother most innocently. For a moment, the King seemed irritated, but then he realized what his sister was trying to tell him not so subtly. Narcisse, too, understood the direction in which the princess tried to steer her king and brother, and he inevitably stiffened.