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Prompt - Also could you maybe do a rewrite of 2x06 where Cathrine and Mary actually tell the innkeeper that they are the queens?
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Mary barely manages to breathe a disbelieving chuckle as Catherine storms -well, hobble storms. That fox hole did a number on her little ankle- away from her, muttering angrily to herself about her dinner and the need for wine. She shakes her head and scoffs slightly, beginning to walk forwards at a brisk pace to catch up to Catherine. The Queen of France rolls her eyes and bites back a smirk as -once again- the former Queen of France takes a tumble and lands upon the grassy ground. Don't smirk at the Duchess! the Queen remembered being scolded as a child, and that memory brought another grin to her lips.
"I'm alright, I can manage!" Catherine slaps Mary's hand away from her as she tries to help her up. The ravenette raises a brow as the far smaller woman begins to try and hobble for a few moments. But since she is unable to get up on such tall court shoes on such an uneven surface and upon a bum ankle, Catherine huffs from her place upon the floor and jerks a hand up to Mary's direction. Mary grins in triumph, gripping her mother in law's hand to haul the petite, curvy woman from the muddy, grassy ground. Catherine mutters to herself as she stands.
"Come on, not that much farther to go." she states firmly, once the older woman is upon her feet.
"You're one to talk! I'm wearing heels!" she scoffs angrily. Mary rolls her eyes, plucking a few leafs from the messy copper curls. She jerks her hair back, a breeze suddenly blowing the raven strands into her face.
"I told you to take yours off once we passed the rivers." she states. "When I did. It's much easier." Mary promises, tapping the pocket that had been sewn into her skirts, one that held her shoes and her jewels.
"You may have spent months trudging barefoot under mud, but I will not do such a horrid thing!" Catherine rolls her eyes. Mary repeats the action, continuing her role as impromptu crutch for the small Medici blooded woman.
"Come on." she scoffs, continuing to walk towards the little village. It was amusing how tall she was compared to Catherine, who even in her tallest court heels, was still a head and shoulders below the young Queen of Scots, who was barefoot at this current moment. It brought a grin to her lips, one Catherine was quick to catch, and attempted to strike off by a smack to her arm. Mary grinned more, walking further.
They finally arrived at the tavern. Catherine insisted that Mary put on her shoes before they entered the room. Lacking the bother to fight with her mother in law over something so menial as this, the Queen simply pulled on her shoes and smirked at the height difference again, before Catherine shoved open the door and strolled into the room.
"Innkeeper!" she calls, pushing her cloak onto Mary's arms. She rolls her eyes, taking the soft material into her hands and holding it. "Ah! My good man!" Catherine chuckles, placing herself at the other end of the bar. She sounds so different than Catherine, it amuses Mary. The innkeeper, a tall, burly looking man looks at her astonished. "We require your best capon. Freshly killed, well-baked." she makes a few odd hand gestures that Mary doesn't know the meaning of. "Seasoned with basil and rosemary. And a bottle of whatever passes for wine." Catherine makes to go sit at one of the tables, before the middle aged looking man speaks.
"Let's see the shine of your coin first." he gruffs, folding his large arms.
"Are you trying to insult me?" Now Catherine sounds like Catherine. "Do you make all your patrons turn out their pockets before you deign to serve them?"
"I know my customers. I don't know you. No money? No service." he states firmly, staring Catherine down.
"You turn away at your peril. We are friends of the lord of this region!" the little copper haired woman exclaims, glaring at the much larger man.
"Friends of the duke?" the man questions, as if getting humoured by this whole situation.
"The duke." she agrees, before leaning over to Mary. "Where are we? I know things about the noblemen."
"How am I supposed to know?" she whispers, outraged. "They don't put up signs letting you know where you are!"
Catherine opens her mouth to reply, but the innkeeper beats her to it. "On the road? Without an escort? Without a carriage? I didn't hear no horses outside... madam." he spits. Catherine shakes her head, exclaiming as the man begins to turn away.
"Wait! You're right. The truth is that this is your Queen-" she gestures towards Mary. The Queen of Scots' eyes widen considerably. "This is the Queen of France!" she states grandly.
"What?" Mary whispers frantically, quietly. "Catherine-"
"I don't believe you." he states. "No carriage, no horses. No guards. You're no Queen's."
"I can prove it!" Catherine declares, taking Mary's hand and bringing her over towards the innkeeper. "Mary, show him your coronation ring." she demands, because apparently, Catherine de Medici getting her dinner is more important than the physical safety of her son's wife.
"What?" she whispers again. "I don't think-"
"Do it!" Catherine hisses. "It used to belong to me, show me it. Now." she states.
God help us. Mary thinks, rolling her eyes, before fishing out the gold ring that was given to her upon her and Francis' coronation. Whilst she could only wear the finest jewels on certain occasions, she was expected to wear the ring all the time. She fishes out the ring, showing the innkeeper.
"See? She's Queen Mary!" Catherine declares. Only now does Mary realise that Catherine had drawn the attention of the entire tavern. The innkeeper looked over the ring, before the entire place bowed to them both.
"By God, it worked." Catherine mutters. She looks to the man as he rises. "And I am the King's mother. The Queen and I will sit, we need food and wine. Our carriage was attacked by bandits upon the road, our guards dead. The Queen and I have been walking our entire day, we must rest." she states firmly. "So, we require your best capon. Freshly killed, well-baked. Seasoned with basil and rosemary. And a bottle of whatever passes for wine." Catherine demands, leading the Queen Mary over towards a table. Mary takes advantage of this, and puts both of their cloaks upon Catherine's arms. She grits her teeth, as Mary smiles at her innocently. "Ah, and whilst this is cooking, send word to the Castle and the King. Tell him where we are and to send a carriage to retrieve us." she states firmly.
Mary blinks in astonishment as she sits down upon the table and chairs. Catherine smirks widely, gripping the first bottle of wine and two glasses, starting to pour.
