WHO: Lucy Lyon → Catherine de' Medici WHEN: Afternoon of October 7 WHERE: Her house, in Yuri's nursery SUMMARY: Lucy succumbs to a nap while Yuri takes one himself and dreams of a goodbye in France. WARNINGS: Impending death, injury, mistresses?
"I've alway tried to do what's been best for our children and for you -- and for France." Catherine held tight to Henry's hand, leaning toward him from her perch at the side of his bed. The blood of his wound was staining the fabric that was looped around his head. Were it not for that wound, this could have been a night years before. Before mistresses and worries of her ability to make an heir drove them further and further apart.
It wasn't one of those nights, though. Henry was gravely injured. His time with them was rapidly counting down. This was, Catherine knew, goodbye.
"Shh, there are no more regrets. In my way, I have always loved you."
Catherine smiled softly, her fingers tightening gently around his own. When she spoke, it was just barely above a whisper, but there was no denying the conviction in her tone. "You are the love of my life." The smallest of smiles touched Henry's lips, the first time in a long time such a look from him affected her, warming her heart. "Oh, to see your kindness returned…"
"Yours must, as well. It's in you still." Catherine smiled again, though the bout of happiness his words gave her were short-lived as he continued. "You must show it to Diane. She is unprotected once I'm gone. After being so much a part of my life, of ours… neither of you should be alone. She is extended family, your equal in so many ways. Catherine…" Henry reached out, joining his free hand to meet their linked ones. "Be friends. Please reach out to her."
Catherine had hated Diane from the moment she entered their lives. She had endured silently -- well, not always silently, but she had endured -- as the other woman stood by her husband's side, reaped the rewards of being the beloved mistress to the king, and bore him a son before Catherine herself had been able to. A jealousy had formed, growing stronger and more impossible to ignore as each year passed. She may have been the queen, but it was Diane that had her husband's ear and heart. To be reminded of this now, on what was quite literally Henry's death bed, was almost more than she could bear.
But, it was Henry's death bed. And, while she might have felt that fury rise up, the only emotion that could truly stamp out the pain that this reminder caused, she had meant her earlier words. Henry was the love of her life. They had been in love once. They'd had moments of levity and joy that, despite the years of animosity and anger that followed, she found herself cherishing.
And so, despite the tears in her eyes that she hoped he might interpret as sadness at the prospect of losing him, Catherine held his hands tightly and lied. "Yes. I will reach out to her."
A shrill cry pulled Lucy almost violently from sleep, her entire body jumping as her eyes flew open. No longer in Henry's bedchamber, she instead found herself in Yuri's nursery, sitting in the too comfortable rocking chair as her son woke from his nap as dramatically as possible. She pulled herself to her feet, slower than she might have even a few weeks ago when she was still very pregnant; she was starting to regret rolling her eyes at everyone telling her to sleep while she could. She doubted that all that sleep would have done much for her now, but she was deeply regretting the missed opportunities.
"Hey, you," Lucy murmured, leaning over the crib with her hands outstretched to scoop the infant up and into her arms. Yuri's crying didn't stop, but did tone down to a soft whimper as his mother held him close. "It's all right," she soothed, bouncing him as she walked slowly around the room. "Mummy's here."
Humming a soft tune under her breath, her mind wandered to the dream. It was only then that she realized her cheeks were damp, thanks to tears that she'd shed in sleep while still living a life that was Catherine's. Lucy blinked her eyes rapidly, trying not to be overcome with the intense feelings that the queen seemed to always have that would war with her own. It was difficult, though. She felt her sorrow and pain at the loss of Henry wash over her, just as strong as the anger at his request of how she should be there for his mistress. It was the former that she tried to cling to, even if anger tended to be a more straightforward emotion. It might have been an easier one to focus on, but it wasn't productive. Not not. Not with this.
But Catherine's relationship with Henry… it was a complicated one, to say the very least. It wasn't something that Lucy was familiar with. Before Mikhail, she rarely found herself willing to commit in the longterm to a man. She would go on dates and some of those dates did turn into relationships, but either she would get bored or they would become impatient with her work schedule and they would go their separate ways. Even Mikhail himself was meant to be harmless fun -- at least, that was what her alcohol soaked mind had told herself when she had brought him back to her hotel room after Annie and Alex's wedding. She had continued to tell herself that when they met up each time he was in town, though hindsight told her now just how much she'd been kidding herself. But, Lucy had always been a skilled liar when she wanted to be, especially to herself.
As Yuri calmed down, Lucy sat herself back into the rocking chair, the motion just as soothing to him as the bouncing. She had only meant to rest for a short while as Yuri napped, her hopes being to get some cleaning done before he woke; apparently her body had different plans. Now, though, she was alert with thoughts of her life and Catherine's, the similarities and differences between the two. She didn't know how the woman could handle so much loss and thought that it perhaps explained how Catherine became the person she grew to be… and desperately hoped that Lucy would never feel the same happen to her.
All she could do, she thought as she turned her head, letting her cheek rest against Yuri's soft, blonde hair at the top of his head, was hold onto the goodness that she did have. There was an abundance of it and Lucy knew it. Smiling to herself, she pressed a kiss to Yuri's head and knew just how lucky she truly was.