Dining Hall

James had spent the rest of the day with his privy council and so his head ached from the afternoon's arguments. One too many puritans and nobles who greedily aimed to better themselves instead of the country. There were some who James knew to be of honest intention but they were few in number and strength.

Nevertheless, he dressed in his finest doublet for the evening-crafted from french fabric in honour of Mary and made his way to the hall; rubbing his head, squinting his tired eyes. The candlelit room was already buzzing with noise, gossips and minstrels-the only pleasing noise was his Italian band who had come with him for the visit to Aberdeen.

The courtiers bowed and James kindly nodded his head at them. He confidently waded through the crowd and finally took his seat in the middle of the table upon his throne.

Mary was told that she would dine in public at the kings side. She would have James by her side to look after her for the entire night. Mary had bathed in lavendar that was brought from france with her. As Mary made her way through the corridors people curtsied as she walked past them. Every now and then she stopped and talked to those with children or, were expecting babies. A shy young girl came up to Mary and presented her with a small posey arrangement. Happily, Mary took a flower and placed it in the childs hair which suited her surprisingly well. One of the kings servants banged his cane on the floor, announcing her arrival. Mary swayed past the throng of courtiers her gaze transfixed only on James.

James was already in deep chatter with his men, clustered about him - a pitcher of ale quickly being drank. They chuckled amongst themselves but stopped when they heard Mary be announced. James tilted his head to see beyond the men in front of him but could not see her. So he stood and paused, quite transfixed.

Gradually a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He nodded his head to her, the men around him dispersed and he pulled out her chair for her himself.

Mary's smile radiated happiness when she saw James. He looked rather dashing tonight as his eye's shone with the flickering candles. As she sat Mary looked around the room at everyone being merry because she was here. The men wore their tartan kilts, the different patterns representing their hometown.

James smiled as she took her place beside him. He sat up straighter than usual and sipped his ale with restraint. Usually his feasts with the court would descend into inebriated laughter and clumsy dances. Yet, he suspected such antics would be unappreciated by Mary - he was rugged and wild in a way...but a gentleman none the less. Thus, James assumed a chivalrous role for that night. He would protect her from the rabble, not be a part of it.

The people gathered finally stopped staring and began to speak, the band starting playing their instruments and James allowed himself to steal a glance to his right. He noticed how her skin appeared warmer in the candle light - flushed pink. His dark gaze subconsciously regarded the curve of her chest. He quickly looked up, realising where his eyes had travelled, taking a measured sip of ale.

"Did you manage to get some rest?" he asked and glanced about the hall.

It's hard to sleep in a strange bed I'm sure in time I will adjust.

Mary wrapped her hand around his trying to get used to the feeling of mans skin. She did this very discreetly, letting their hands fall together down the side of his leg. She admired the prettiness of the french fabric which was put sparingly around the hall. The candles set a mood of intimacy within the hall. Mary had only wished that their were fewer on their table to allow for more indepth conversation.

Will you take part in the highland fling dance?

She asked playfully as she noticed a lot of the men were wearing their kilts. Even the women had some element of tartan in their clothing.

He smiled with a sigh as she took his hand. Her skin was smooth, warmer now inside but delicate compared to his. He squeezed her hand reassuringly, glancing down at their embracing flesh. There was no strangeness between them, he was at ease with her and he hoped she was with him.

"No, " he said and grinned, glancing to her, "I favour the volta personally...besides, " he added jokingly, "I'm not nearly drunk enough to take part in such a dance."

My king dances does he?

Mary asked playfully not hiding the delight in her voice and smile.

Who else resides in at this country estate.

She needed to know to figure out how James spent his days when they were not together. Not all the kings acted the same way which is why they were so different. It was crucial that James and Mary spent some time in the day together other than marital duties.

Jame smiled boyishly and chuckled, "Used to... now...only if his Queen is his partner."

He winked at her playfully and laughed into his cup, taking a sip of ale and relaxing into her company. She was more royal than he, James thought. She wore her gown so well, held her head with such height, commanded the respect of the people already and those pursed, pink lips...he believed he should bow to her, serve her-protect her.

He glanced to their hands again, desiring only her hand on his cheek. He had imagined only the most respectful fancies of her since their meeting - she was set higher than others. It was the way their eyes had met on the glenn that inspired such feelings, "Well it's usually vacant...unless we come for a hunt. It's too small really for the whole court but they've managed to squeeze themselves in."

He leaned closer, playfully-resting his elbow on the arm of her chair. He pointed discreetly to a fat man with a bulbous nose-leering over the young girls, "That is Robert MacGregor. He likes to think he is higher born than everyone of us in this room...including you."

He pointed again, this time to a lean young man holding a cup of wine, "That there is Fraser Sangster. The skinniest boy in court but could drink every man here under the table...don't know how he does it," James said and laughed good-naturedly.

When Mary turned her head she noticed that became closer to each other. She could smell the wine on his breath shuddering, as she felt it bounce down her neck causing goosebumps on her skin. Mary squeezed his hand tighter as a noticeable change in herself.

You seem not best pleased to reside here, is their something better at your other castle that you need to attend to.

Their was a difference between them Mary loved nature and being left in peace. James it seemed loved the rowdy, bawd company of his men and who knew what else.

He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, recreating the distance between them as he sensed her discomfort. Perhaps he was too honest too soon, too familiar, "I can hide there," he said simply.

"I grew up there, escaped it's towers when I was held as prisoner-I know every corridor, room, creak in the floorboards. I'm vulnerable to prying eyes."

Why was he backing away from me.. Mary turned in her chair casting her eye's on a flickering candle ahead. She was in an awkward disposition she couldn't beg for his affection towards her. Taking a deep breath, she released her clammy hand from his.

Why did you move away from me.

He tilted his head and sighed, "I thought you may be uncomfortable with me so close to you...I don't want to make you feel ill at ease."

He finished his cup of ale and glanced to her. With a bit of hesitation, he took her hand again - maintaing eye contact. Gently he turned it around as he did before in the glenn and rubbed his thumb over her slender wrist"The hairs on your arm stood up."

Oh

She mouthed as she felt her heart sinking. Was that how she reacted towards him with discomfort? If they were alone Mary would pull him closer and kiss him to prove that she was in no discomfort.

On the contray my dear I feel otherwise. I think that I should retire for the night.

He didn't want her to leave so quickly, she had only just come to be by his side.

"Forgive me," he said earnestlly and glanced down. It was a peculiar situation they found themselves in. She was after all his Queen, he wanted to treat her with respect. Yet his feelings mingled with a desire to take her away on her own, away from public, "Will you at least stay for one dance?"

He glanced up, hope and mischief glistening in his eye.

I have a better idea.

Mary declared with just as much mischief in her voice. Bending towards him she whispered in his ear:

You could order your court to dance to a merry tune.. Whilst we sneak out somewhere, alone just me and you.

James turned to her, surprised at her words but glad they could spend more time together. He didn't wish to break the chord of communion between them yet, she held an almost palable pull over him.

He stood up and the band stopped playing, "A Galliard next, " he commanded. The crowd moved as one body accordingly- men and woman forming pairs, the band retuned their instruments.

James took Mary's hand, as if he was leading her to join the dance, carefully pulling away her chair from behind her as she did. Whilst guiding her from the table, he noticed one of his friends smirk at him from across the hall and James dipped his head with a smile. The crowd was sufficiently busy for them to sneak outside into the corridor, "Where to?"

Mary bit her lip tightly from trying not to laugh with excitement. It felt so good to rebel and do their own thing as just husband and wife.

embrasse-moi

It felt so strange for her to ask she was French they acted on such affections rather then speak them. Mary pulled him into the hall to a quiet dark corner where no one would know it was them.

I want to be alone with you so I can do what I want without having to ask. I want to feel your hair in my fingers, your lips upon mine. As we let ourselves get lost in one another.

Mary gripped his doublet tightly unaware of this passion she held inside her.

James grinned as they hid but as she spoke he grew almost sombre. He looked down as she spoke, his fingers laced through hers while his dark hair draped over his head. Upon her final words, he knew what she meant and glanced up - earnestly beholding her eyes. He leaned near to her, dipping his head so he was on her level.

The feeling of her hand reaching his doublet inspired him to hold her cheek, his other hand slipping around her waits. He paused but he knew she consented and so came closer, pressing his lips to hers.

Her heart started to beat faster as James moved closed to her. Never letting her gaze falter Mary kissed his wrist as his gentle hand cupped her cheek. With her frustration building up inside her, she ripped open his doublet letting the buttons fall loudly to the floor.

Make me yours James! Make me yours completely.

Both his hands found their way around her waist, bringing her body closer to his. She was small in his arms, he realised as he felt her come closer, almost fragile. He hadn't expected to feel the way he already did for her, nothing short of a sincere infatuation.

He began to move with her, his lips still keenly against hers, guiding them down the hall away from the possibility of being seen and towards his bedchamber.