(Not exactly a rewrite, but a scene I wish we would have gotten.)
The Queen of Scotland sees both everything and nothing. She stands on solid ground, yet she floats. She is both warm and cold, at peace and at turmoil. Her gown kisses her ankles, swishing in a soft breeze, its source she cannot place. Everything is white, as if she walks within a cloud or within a heavenly paradise that has no place within the world of the living. She is calm, it is quiet. The ravenette looks around, from side to side. Everything is slow. Nobody is with her.
"Mary." a voice says. She inhales deeply, begging to her Gods mercy that it is the person who had been ripped from her so many months ago, the person who meant the most to her out of everybody in her entire world. Her heart, her strength, her King. She looks around desperately, finding the silhouette, the source.
It is not him. It can never be him. The silhouette is of a woman, the gait is familiar. Far from comforting and exactly that at the same time. She cannot explain it, perhaps she doesn't want to. She had lost her just as she had lost him.
"Lola." Mary whispers. Her tears return as the figure comes closer. It is her, the very same Fleming blooded traitorette of Scottish Court. Lady Narciesse walks to her, she's exactly the same as Mary remembers her to be. Brown curls, small blue eyes. A smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, nor cover her lips.
"Mary." Now of all times, Lola stops a few inches away from her and curtseys deeply for several seconds. Their eyes connect as she rises. News of Lola's death still aches her weary heart. That very same afternoon, Sebastian's departure. Being a stranger in the land of her blood, abandoned by all she had loved. One of the most arduous days of her short life.
"Lola," she whispers. The Queen remembers the circumstances of Lola's demise. Being involved in a plot to murder Elizabeth, loosing her head because of it. "Lola, what did you do?" she asks quietly.
"Mary?" she questions sadly. "You-you sent word to me through the nanny. Gave me coin and orders." she says. "I tried to do what you asked, but it didn't-"
She shook her head, her hair flowing from side to side. "I did no such thing, Lola. I would never put you in such danger. Even after everything that happened between us, I would have never given you orders to kill a Queen." she proclaims. "Would you think so low of me, that I would put you, Francis' son, in danger?"
Lola bows her head, speaking not for several minutes. "I-I was given orders in our code, over and over I read it. It told me to-"
"It may have," she whispers. "but the order didn't come from me, no matter what you thought at the time. Lola, you must know that no matter what happened between us in France, I would have never put you in such a situation." she says softly. "You thought you were following my orders, and you died for it." she says.
Lola nods. "I'm sorry." she whispers.
"It's not me you have to apologise to. Your son is now without his mother for the rest of his life. It-it was bad enough his father-" she can speak no more.
"I know," she whispers.
It only n ow occurs to Mary that she is in fact talking to her dead former Lady in waiting. "What-what is this? Am I dead?" she asks.
Lady Narciesse shakes her head. "No, this is merely a dream." she says quietly. "I may have not believed in Nostradamus' prophecy all the way, but I hold his power of sight now. We all do. You have a long life ahead of you." she says. "But, Mary, you must promise me something." now, Lola looks up at her Queen.
"What?"
"Henry Stuart, Lord Darnley." she says. "You must not marry him. I know you hate Elizabeth for what she did to me, I know you wish for her country. But you cannot marry Darnley to get it. He will bring your downfall. James Hepburn will bring your death. Promise me, you'll stay far away from them. You believe in the powers of prophecy, believe this above all else."
