The King's Bedchamber

He had relaxed into the bed and was about to reply when he heard her tell him to leave. His eyes shot open but he remained lying down, scratching his beard,"Go?" he protested playfully.

"What ever for?" he questioned and sat up with considerable reluctance, catching his breeches as she threw them to him.

James I heard footsteps outside the door if you want me to go. I stood up taking long strides towards the door as I looked back at him.

He scrambled from the bed, stumbling to her as he pulled on his breeches. Eventually he reached her and gathered her tenderly into his arms, twirling her round so she faced him, "You are my wife," he said warmly, "There is no scandal that you are in my bed."

He nimbly laced his breeches, touching his lips to her forehead - in what was become a subconscious habit - finally taking a few short paces to the door, "Under the covers, a ghràidh," he hushed, "I'll send them away."

I smiled as my hair swished around my neck freely as he twirled me in his arms. My heart swelled with love for him and a dirty laugh escaped. I quickly clasped my hand to my mouth ducking under the covers as I laughed.

James chuckled as she did, waiting until she was beneath the covers until he unlatched the heavy wooden door. His dark eyes casting their gaze over her lean figure as she scampered to the bed, the waves of her hair falling about her shining face. His heart stirred as she smiled with such unbridled joy.

As he opened the door he was greeted by his friend Thomas, a little out of breath and bedraggled - yet, this was nothing out of the ordinary. James took a step outside, standing in the door way but he was given the news before he could have any jovial raillery with his friend.

"You are sure?" he asked incredulously, his voice hushed and deep. Thomas nodded in reply. James thanked him as he backed into the room, vowing they would meet soon. He shut the door behind him and turned to the bed, "You're mother is here."

I threw of the cover looking at him I wasn't sure if he was jesting or not. No... I mean.. where here in the castle. I stood walking over to him before trying to jump in his arms once again. I shall go and meet her then. And maybe you would like to meet her. I asked quitely as I pushed back his hair.

"Apparently she is pulling up to the castle very now," he replied, bringing her into his arms as she walked over to him.

He shut his eyes tiredly as her gentle hand pushed back his hair. He leaned into her touch and nodded. He did want to meet her mother and her family - if only to assure them she was well protected and loved. Yet, he knew he would have to be chivalrous and respectful...and he wasn't sure he would have the strength to keep his hands off of Mary after the night they had.

"We shall go now," he mumbled and held her a little closer for just a moment, "Together."

Ok.. Ok this is good we shall meet her together. Great I would have to behave myself and knowing James he would not make that an easy task for me.

James had somehow managed to find his chamber without getting lost or falling down a set of stairs. The court had gradually dispersed from the great hall; couples hand in hand returning to their children in homes outside the castle, ladies in waiting and gentlemen of the privy chamber trudging to their lodgings near James and Mary’s rooms, drunk nobles leaving with a pitcher in hand while they sung sentimentally of Scotland. James had remained with his men, their talking of recent events and plans for the future descended into bawdy laughter soon after Mary had left, this developed into boyish antics which gave them all pains in their stomachs from laughter and finally ended with the content weariness of inebriated friends.

The sky was entirely dark when he parted ways with his friends, the roads quiet and the sky adorned with stars. Must be late, his disorientated mind thought. He was well used to trudging home on summer nights in the early morning and he guessed it was probably past midnight from the lack of light as he staggered along the candlelit corridors. Eventually he reached his rooms, he stumbled through his reception room and the night guard, past his study and lounge, down the long corridor to his room. The door was slightly ajar and all he had upon his mind, was his bed. Whiskey and ale had seen to him forgetting about Mary’s promise.

He kicked off his boots, managing to stay upright and chuckling victoriously for not falling over. However, when he began to remove his breeches he began to loose balance. Laughing at how he must have looked, he plummeted - face down - onto the bed - still laughing - as he wriggled out of the trousers.

Mary had a peaceful sleep, she was awoken by the laughing that came from next door. The humidity had caused her hair to appear frizzy much like a poodle dog. Calling for her ladies in waiting she set about to ready herself for an eagerly awaited night with her husband. Sitting at her vanity Mary allowed her ladies to flurry about her like butterflies. They tended to her hair whilst the others poured cream of rose water against her skin. She would appear to James like a goddess in a loosewhite nightie her hair pulled back to fall loosely around her neck covering her tiny breasts. Every so often an outbreak of girlish giggles would arise causing Mary to wince at the sound. They were hovering around the secret door ears pressed firmly against it. 

Growing agitated Mary slipped on her nightgown, which smelled of Jasmine and was made of Chinese silk. Pushing back the tapestry she swiftly opened the door, finding James moving like a worm on his bed. The guards were looking into the room, making their self scarce as they saw Mary. She went over to them, placing a hand to her chest. Please help me turn his majesty over so he does not choke in the night.

"I shall not choke, my love, my beauty," James said boisterously, speaking as if he were an actor performing a play - his deep voice loud yet almost boyish. He rolled onto his back with a sigh - as if it was a great exertion. Whenever he got this drunk - he would either become a prisoner to sleep or benevolent laughter, regardless there would be a playful innocence to him - rather different from the usual argumentative drunks who wondered about late at night. Plainly, the latter was the mood he was in that night.

"My angel-" James said - sitting up slightly and addressing the guards who smiled at James. Before Mary he would have invited them to have a drink with him - yet this was before Mary and so they kept their distance, "-shall watch over me and nurse me," another laugh.

They bowed and left the room - shutting the doors behind them. James collapsed back onto the bed with a happy sigh, "Good evening, darling," he said with a bright grin - looking up to Mary as if he had only just noticed she sat upon his bed.

Mary had never seen a person like this before she could not help but stare. Pulling up a chair she sat by the bed listening to all he had to say. Would she be like this if she drank ale and wine all night? How drunk was James at least he wasn't slurring abuse at her. He was like a young man seeking out his love in a crowded room. So our night of love is out of the question.

She was not sure if she could take care of him she most certainly was not getting in the same bed as he. This felt like an early lesson in motherhood. Rolling her eye's she spoke to the guards outside the door to fetch something to sober him up. At least he was enjoying himself, which pleased Mary greatly as it showed him that they were not an old married couple.

“Oh but the night is young!” James replied, almost singing with a chuckle. He sat up so that he could face her. Shuffling to sit at the edge of the bed he added quietly - all at once seeming sober, his dark eyes filled with clarity as if the whole drunkenness was an act, “There is time for love.”

He reached out for her, his hands resting upon her hips as he brought her closer to him. Soon he was chuckling again but more gently and not as loud, “Would you deny my conjugal rights?” he asked, the ale causing him to stumble over the penultimate word.

Mary held her breath, forcing a smile onto her lips. She did not wish to lay with him while he was in this state. How would it even work when he was so drunk could he still arouse himself to want her. Instead of falling about in fits of giggles. The smell of ale was so strong that it was Mary reaching for the basin instead of him!

She hoped that he would not remember this part of the night and that he would soon go to sleep. Maybe her mother was right, maybe she was too squeaky clean for him. Too dainty and cosseted to deal with such things that men did. Maybe Mary should of just let him spend time with his friends rather than with her.

James sighed with a smile and tumbled back onto the bed as Mary went away from him. He presumed that she would only be standing to remove her nightgown. As he imagined her - from behind closed eyes - revealing herself to him, he drifted into sleep. His imagination was full of her, her whispering to him, her beneath him and her hands caressing him.

He was unsure what time it was when he awoke from his brief slumber. The sky was still dark, but he could hear birds singing outside. He moved to sit but his throbbing head anchored him to the bed. He was starving, his head ached and he extended his arm to feel for Mary beside him. His first thought was her, he wanted her in his arms - to have her comfort him and hold his head and melt away the pain.

It was gone a couple of hours past midnight soon the summer's sun would be arising. The guards had brought up some water and bread to help sober up James. Their was also some mint leaves. Mary had found that particularly funny, maybe she could pop one into his mouth while he slept. To Mary James was nothing but perfection in her eye's. She loved him more than was humanly possible to do. As he stirred from his unpeaceful sleep Mary went over to the bed climbing a top him. Has my husband returned to me or am I stuck with the poet.

Her voice was mellow an audible whisper in his ear. She didn't kiss his mouth, but she did wrap his arms tightly around her body. Her hands caressed his chest gently running up and down his arms. Mary wanted to climb in the bed next to him and curl up in his arms. He would need some looking after and she wanted to have him all to herself for the day. Whilst he slept she had sketched ideas of the nursery and sneakily snuck in kisses down his neck.

James smiled warmly as Mary came to sit by him, his eyes barely open as he tumbled from his dreams and into reality. For a change, the imagining paled in comparison to what greeted him when he awakened. At least for a moment, he forgot about his aching head, “What poet?” he asked hoarsely, his voice gravelly and deep.

Her voice was soothing, exactly what he wished to hear. It sounded as if she were speaking in French to him, for so soft and flowery was the tone of her speech. Sleepily he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, his hands absent mindedly caressing her back. He tried to piece together how he arrived here, in bed - was it her bed, or his? He glanced around - his bed.

There was the great hall and Mary and the announcement, she had left and he had some drinks with friends. That he could remember. The rest, would surely come to him in a series of flash backs. He was in bed and in bed with Mary - it could not have been too bad.

You are! I came for some love making and instead was greeted with a poet. You laid face down and pantless on the bed. A fit of giggles you would burst into before calling me your angel. Mary closed her eyes, enjoying the gentle caresses on her back. Did he remember what she wanted to do under the table that day. Stretching, she passed him some cool water to help with his sandy mouth. She would not torture him or make him feel bad as Mary was not like that. Instead, she would simply lay lovingly in his arms it had been so long since they cuddled.

Pulling back the covers she dived into the bed, letting her cold feet touch his legs. Grabbing his hand Mary placed it on the curve of her stomach, letting her lips graze against his scare. Ah, this was bliss to be back in his loving arms. Arms that held her through good and bad times that made her feel safe. His familiar scent Mary could taste in her mouth tantalizing her taste buds.

“Oh God,” James groaned while he chuckled. He realised that was why he was so cold, lying atop the sheets with his breeches on the floor and the fire barely burning. He sat up a little, resting upon his elbow as he took a drink of water. The first gulp made him feel refreshed - he could feel the cold trickle down his throat - the second made him feel nauseous and so he set the cup down again, “I’m sorry, Mary,” he said and rubbed his head, brushing away the hairs from his forehead.

“I suppose you have now realised you are married to a fool,” he said and embraced her, kissing her jaw.

She chuckled, leaning towards him more as his lips awoken her. James was no fool Mary was just naive. She had nothing against him making merry with his friends. It was a side of him that Mary thought would happen away from the palace. Their was still things she was learning about James despite thinking she had seen them all. My husband is no fool. He is an honourable man with a restless soul and a thirst for adventure.[

Mary turned on her side, covering him with the bed sheets. As she pressed her face deeply into his chest. Her mind wondered what a tavern was like. She felt like it was necessary to discover that part of James life. The thing with James was that everyone wanted to be around him, he was after all where the action was happening. It was strange how Mary was feeling them having a child together should give them an unbreakable bond. Yet an aggravating itch made him feel they were drifting away.

“My wife is a liar,” James mumbled playfully with a chuckle - not even his headache could distort his mischevious nature, “Abandoning you last night was not honourable."

He gathered her into his arms, arranging the sheets to fall around her shoulders as he kissed her soft hair. Even in the morning, before the light, Mary was perfect. Her hair still smelt of roses, her skin was still soft and her words were only ever kind. He could feel her forehead touch the crook of his neck, her lips pressed against his chest and he felt his heart swell with love for her. She was dainty as she lay with him and with that swelling of love, came James’ protective nature - and so he kissed her head again as he held her close.

“Everyone is very pleased for us,” he said quietly, “It’s a bit of a tradition here for new fathers to get completely drunk…I suppose that just came a bit early last night,” he said with a smile upon his lips, “I’m sorry if I spoiled it for you, love."

You mean wetting the babies head right? We had the same thing in France, but it was after the baby had been born. Their would be days upon days of non stop festivities at the court. On the night that the babe was born a massive fireworks display would bet set off against the sound of peeling bells throughout the kingdom. Jousting matches and never ending dances would take place all in the name of the prince or princess.

Mary had it all written down exactly what celebrations would take place after their child was born. If it was a boy he would be Christensen shortly after he was born. Only to be brought back to Mary in her bed. Fireworks and plays would take place at court with the most scrumptious of foods. If they were to have a girl there would be no fireworks celebrations would take place just not as elaborate. Instead Mary would organize afternoon tea for all the noble ladies currently residing at court.

Swiftly she pushed her leg into his grabbing his buttocks as she pulled him towards her more. Nothing is ruined my love. We will have plenty more opportunities after our child is born. This will sound strange but if we are not intimate I can feel myself growing lost.

“Yes,” he replied with a grin, “If a little prematurely. The country - before you and I, before us…well, it had very little to celebrate. You, my love, are making us all safe - you are giving them hope.”

"When my father ruled there had been years of war with an absent King. The people were loyal - thank God they still are - but the constant fighting brought famine and plague. Sons either died from sickness or with a dagger in their side, daughters were left alone with no men to marry. My mother married her ladies in waiting to the remaining nobles who had not perished and this bred contempt among the people who neither respected nor trusted her. When she married after my father died, and so soon, I am surprised the people did not tear down the palace gates and remove the crown. I wanted to set things right,” James said truthfully, his sore head bringing out candid honesty, “Make it better. But there is only so much I can do. Now we have our little one,” he said and touched his hand against her belly, “They have the promise that all shall be well. You have redeemed us all, Mary.”

As her hands clutched onto his rear his lips were upon her neck, his hands spanning her sides - caressing her with a tender touch. It was more than love with Mary, it was adoration - he was her humble servant…who was so very fond of the taste of her lips.

Mary shook her head in disagreement. All she was doing was having a child with the man she loved. All that she cared about was James and their child. No one else she needed to please except them two. Mary craved more private time with James not wishing to be on display at court. She just wanted to be with and please him. I am not doing this for Scotland I am doing this for us. No one else but us can't you see that.

James chuckled, “I know,” he replied benevolently with his lips still brushing against her neck.

Slowly he eased himself on top of her, shutting his eyes when his heavy head throbbed. He felt as if he was being weighted down with a heavy steal anchor. Yet, he did not drown; for when he yielded to his headache and dipped his head his lips met Mary’s. Open mouthed and wet, he kissed her, mouth firm against hers, tongue sliding past her teeth. His palm resting steady against her jaw, fingertips dipping down to press against her neck, “I want you to do something else for us,” he began deeply, his voice barely audible as he came away from her lips.

Tucking a stray tendril of curled hair away from her face, he said - while his eyes danced with mischief, “I want you to let me have you."