The Queen's Bedchamber

James raised his brow, twirling Mary around by her hips so that she faced him. He buckled his knees to meet her eye line and looked at her - his eyes dancing full of playful mischief, "So you'll grow bored of me?" he asked teasingly, holding onto her waist, "You'll fall in love with some younger man when your King grows old, make me a fool, a cuckhold?"

He laughed heartily - deep and warm - before adding, "And here I was, planning to stay true to my wife - happily married until I leave this world."

He then bent down further, until he kneeled in front of her; like a lover proposing marriage, like a subject pledging fealty, "I shall love you," he said looking up to her before touching the sides of her rounded belly, "And this little one - for as long as I am living. And we three, shall be happy."

A popping sensation gave Mary a fright it was something she had never felt before. Her crotch burned like hot lava being poured inside her pulling her hips apart. Placing a protective hand on her stomach, she swiftly moved away from James not wanting him to know or see her in any pain. I shall rest now James please leave.

Mary asked him calmly with a hint of roughness to her words.

James stood up accordingly as Mary moved away from him, hands dropping to his sides while his smile faded. It were as if the wind had blown out a flame, the light from his face flickered and eventually faded away. Something had changed in Mary's tone, her caresses were no longer for him but only for the rounded heap of her belly. He moved to step towards her but she backed away, her gown flowing about her like a river - leaving a puddle around her feet and breeching any closeness he may have to her.

He tried to discern the expression on her face. It was not dissimilar to how she looked during the incident at her coronation. He remembered it with alarming clarity, her being taken away by the guards, the cheering of the crowd muffled by adrenaline and the weight of her cross around his neck which he was sure had protected him from harm. By instinct his hand came to the hilt of his sword, as if he could fight away some invisible enemy and bring back her smile, “What is wrong?” he asked searchingly, his tone enveloped with worry, “Mary? What has happened?"

My labour has started.. Perhaps it was your honey words that spoke to our child.~

As soon as the pain came it went within seconds of riveting throughout her body. Sitting on the edge of the bed Mary looked to James a little out of breath and shaken up. Men weren't allowed to be present at the birth what would happen now. Did she have the strength to go through this.

James barely heard Mary, the minute she announced her time had come he heard a familiar drumming in his ears. It was the same heavy beat of his heart which came if he had been injured or if he tended a wounded friend - a pellet from the enemy’s musket coming too close, a dagger barely missing the heart . He had known adrenaline and had grown to take pleasure in it - this was different. This was Mary. Her life was far more precious that his and far more fragile.

He moved towards her, hands outstretched. He had never truly known fear - until then, “A nurse!” he boomed towards the door, like a captain commanding his shoulders, “A physcian!” he cried out deeply. An unknown handmaiden appeared in the door, her eyes diverted immediately to Mary before she scuttled away, knowing what to do. James walked towards Mary - he didn’t want to leave her yet nor did he wish to see Mary writhe in pain.

“I love you,” he said firmly, he held her face in his hands - his hold gentle as his thumb brushed over her cheek, “I love you, my Mary. You are strong and you have my love. You are the bravest woman I know. I-“

Cutting him off was a team of physicians, cloaked in black holding leather satchels and rosary beads, their presence like a shadow in the doorway. Her maids shortly followed with billowing white sheets, relics said to be blessed by saints, jugs of steaming water. In the commotion, James noticed his own personal physician - Rafael - a Moor and not approved of by most. James never saw the colour of his skin, only his intelligence and wisdom. He had come from the East and did not believe in bleeding his patients or chanting over crucifixes - James knew he would care for Mary,“Your Majesty,” he said in his unusual and exotic accent while he approached Mary, “Her Grace shall be well cared for. I shall let you know when it is done.”

James nodded and kissed Mary ardently, as if they were to be parted for a long time, as if they were young and childish lovers being torn apart by tradition, “I love you,” he repeated again, “As long as life endures."

Ivy followed behind the men physicians keeping her head low as they all waited for the king to leave. Men were no use in labour they just stood around watching where as us ladies were hands on. Ivy had seen many births mainly from animals like cows and pigs but she best not say that.

Come your majesty let us settle you into bed. Then we will make you nice and comfy soon it shall all be over.

Tiny figured was her Queen slender hips and gentle figure which was appealing to the eye's of men.

Her fingers quickly flew around the cross as James kissed her goodbye. A kiss that lovers had when their lovers went off to war for months and months. How could something so magical cause so much pain? The room soon became stuffy from the throng of men gathered in the room it felt rather odd. Before Mary could relax all the bed covers were taken off. Pillows shoved down the back of Mary to keep her upright. 

'Now you'reMajesty push with the pain and it shall soon be over.'

Mary nodded, closing her eye's as the soft towel soaked with water came to her lips. Being run over her face to keep her cool. As the pain came shaking Mary to her bones she pushed and pushed feeling slight pulling in her hips. Argggg... Give me something... For the pain or I'll Arggg... She cried panting as some rather strong smelling salts were brought to her nose. They didn't help with the pain but they gave Mary a clearer mind.

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An hour or so had passed Mary was exhausted and trembled with each new pain that came. The physicians stood talking, examining Mary every so often checking to make sure the baby was moving. What alarmed Mary the most was when they gently moved her to the end of the bed the toes on her feet dangling over the edge. No no you can't do to me what happened to Margaret Beaufort.

Again Mary pushed and pushed listening to the encouragements of the physicians as they looked on chuffed at the progress of the birth. Before long another hour of pushing had passed. Mary was about to give up when all of a sudden the head of the babe appeared.

'Well done your majesty! Soon you're child will be born. Now just one more big push and it's all over.'

Hard tears fell down her cheeks admitting defeat Mary just wanted it over and done with. Please get the king I need him here with me I..I. JAMES. Came the crying screech as Mary felt her body being torn apart. Mary passed out as the pain took hold of her. Tiny cries of a child filled her ears as she lay their shaking like a leave.

'It's a boy! An heir to the throne'

Warm towels covered Mary's limbs as a spicy wine was brought to her lips. She drunk her worth before being brought to the top of the bed. The tiny child was finally placed into the arms of it's mother.

He barely recognised the room as he found it, bustling full of handmaidens. The windows were open, letting in the brilliant golden glow of the setting sun stream into the room. The billowing white curtains fluttered like hems of women’s skirts, as if they danced quite of their own accord to the whistle of the wind which curled in the air like a spell. The curtains around Mary’s bed were half drawn, that was all he could discern from door. Mary’s maids pushed him away, protesting Mary was not ready, that he should not be here - all tradition and propriety forgotten.

“Where is she?” he said frantically. He had to be with her, he had to assure himself that she was still alive, that she was well. He needed her in his arms and to know she was alright. He rushed into the room, past the women and to her bedside where all was quiet, “I am King, you cannot keep me from my-“

He paused at the end of the bed. There she lay, sweat keeping her fair hair stuck to her pink forehead. She looked as if she had been running wildly for hours, her cheeks rosy and shining. She is alive, he breathed with relief and released only then that he had been holding his breath since he had come into her room. She is alive. Then he saw the little pink babe in her arms, he had never seen anything so small or so perfect. He looked on in shock - that baby, that delicate little child in her arms was their's. James almost looked childlike in his wonder, like a boy entirely dumbfounded.

The sound of James voice was enough to make Mary smile to take all the pain away from her body. Her hand still slightly shaking reached out with her hand. The touch of his flesh was all Mary needed. Your Majesty has a son. Scotland is safe James I have helped you keep Scotland safe.

Mary whispered as she held their child for James to hold.

The handmaidens moved away from the bed, drying red hands on clean towels, rubbing forearms against warm foreheads. The physicians cleared away their things before filing out of the room, congratulating each other while Rafael remained quietly humble -  nodding his head respectfully to James as he left. James could not take his eyes away from the baby - his child…his son. He could scarcely believe he was a father, that he and Mary were no longer careless young lovers - she was a mother and he was a father - to a boy, a son.

“I have a son,” he breathed incredulously. He had never quite known love as he felt in that moment. He would fight an army of thousands for Mary but he would duel with the devil himself for the babe in her arms. He noticed his hair was fair, like Mary, but his skin warm - like his. He had never seen anything so small, or perfect. What’s more, Mary had never looked so beautiful.

He had fallen for her on that glenn, been driven mad with lust as she lay naked at his side, he had loved her on their secret wedding day and looked upon her as if they had only just met. Yet, as she lay in her bed - hair wild about her head, cheeks pink and a smile upon her face - he felt nothing but love and pride. As ever, Mary seemed to handle every situation with grace. He could barely imagine the pain she felt and yet she looked only weary, as if he had stumbled upon her while she slept. If his devotion to her had dwindled, it burned even greater than the setting sun outside the room.

James collected the baby in his arms, surprised by how heavy he was, “A fine weight,” he said in surprise as he gently touched his finger against his son’s cheek. He is strong, James thought, he is healthy and strong.

“I will make this land better for you,” he vowed to the baby, holding Mary’s crucifix above his head - the jewels glinting in the light, “Keep you safe. I love you, little prince."

Mary looked on at them both, her heart growing much bigger room to love this little one. This was the family that James had always wanted maybe in a few years they would expand their family. For now she was just content with the three of them. Mary had dreamed of this moment since meeting James it all did feel like a dream still. Our son shall now be the most handsome throughout the land. Little girl's shall swoon over him eager to hold him as if he was a doll.

Mary and James were both a team now they would work together to ensure that when their son takes the throne. Everything shall be all done and that the troubles Scotland now faced would be gone. She didn't want to over mother him she wouldn't be able to fuss when a tiny piece of mud ended up on his clothes. It was a balance that they would both need to find for raising a future king. Future King... Gosh, even thinking about it pained her to think about.

James climbed onto the bed beside her, “Have them ring out the bells,” he commanded to the figures behind him. There was a different tone to his voice when he spoke. It was still deep but it was quieter than normal, almost softer. His heart had truly been melted by the swaddled bundle in his arms. James did not look behind, at who he addressed, his eyes - glossed with emotion - were only for Mary, “And leave me and my wife, with our son,” his voice broke then upon the last word and his smile widened to an impossibly bright grin.

As the congregation disappeared out of the door, the tired women propping one another up, James kissed Mary’s warm forehead, “I love you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against he forehead, “I love you, a ghràidh."

Her hand came to rest gently on his back as she took the tiny hand of her son. Those mischievous eyes dancing back at Mary were the eye's of his father. She should probably write a quick note to her mother letting her know before a stranger tells hers. Sitting herself up Mary patted down the bedsheets, she wasn't properly cleaned up yet and she wanted to still be that goddess for him. I love you too James. When I have been bathed and washed will you come to me Just for a cuddle nothing else more.

They were a very hands on couple Mary caressed James whenever she could even in a busy hall. Taking James cross she twiddled it in front of the babes eyes noticing how alert his focus was.

James knew that it was hardly protocol to barge into the birthing chamber moments after the birth. His friends, who were fathers already, sometimes stayed away for days before seeing their child. He had known men who had left months between the birth of their child and the initial meeting. Yet, James could not do that. He was young and passionate, perhaps at the birth of children after the little one in his arms, he would be calmer and wait a while before seeing Mary. Now, he was too in love with Mary, too besotted with their child to keep distance and decorum.

He laughed gently as the little baby looked right up at Mary’s cross, seemingly focussing upon the little necklace dangling above his head, “He has your nose,” James remarked almost playfully and looked up to Mary with a grin. He placed the little boy back into her arms, pausing to kiss his little forehead and then Mary, this time upon the lips, “I’ll come for you as soon as you call."

Now before you leave to enjoy the celebrations being held over our Son. We need to find a name for him I still like the name James.~

Mary cooed over him knowing he would soon be taken from her arm's and given to a wet nurse. She would wash then it would give her at least something to do take her mind off things for awhile. No one had told either of them how to feed him change or just generally look after the little babe. For the next couple of days Mary would be confined here in her room. Come see us in the morning and night. Soon I shall ask for you to come for me even a Queen has desires.

James looked down at his little boy, “James,” he whispered contemplatively, running his index finger over his little pink cheek, “Our little James.”

We shall get it right this time, James vowed to himself. Their little child would not be locked away in a tower for his childhood. He would not have fictional characters from poetry and sagas as his only childhood companions. He would not need to peer from a window to see the land that one day he would rule. His mother would love him, his father would be there to see him grow. Only when he was ready, strong and capable, would he take the crown of Scotland upon his head. He would be a child first, before being a Prince.

“James Duke of Rothesay, Prince and Great Steward of Scotland,” James said proudly, articulating his old titles. He’d been a King nearly as long as he’d been alive but when he was born, as little as the child before him - he had the same lands and titles granted to him immediately. When James looked back up to Mary he noticed that she looked as if she had not slept for days, “I am so proud of you, love,” he said affectionately, “I’ll see you after you have rested.”

He stood up and took a pace back, looking at her in bed with their child. She was a little paler than normal, her hair pleasantly unruly but he could still see the bright of her eyes. The blue that had shone through in the portraits he had seen before they met, the eyes that bewitched him when they first met and now looked at him with such love, “If this be my only memory,” he said, leaning against a bed post, “Then I would be the happiest fool alive.”

He chuckled again in disbelief - still in shock that he was no longer just James…one day that little boy would call him father, or perhaps papa if Mary had her way. He mused benevolently over him and Mary teaching the little boy Gaelic and French, in friendly competition over the better cultures, “Rest well, my darling,” he said gently as he reached the door, “Sleep well, my boy."

Sighing deeply as she watched her husband part from the bedroom. Mary didn't meddle in his business what ever needed to be done, she was glad that he got it out of his system before returning to her. She wanted the same freedom that James possessed. To be able to be free to go where he wanted no one to answer to except himself.

Mary wished that she was no foreigner living in a land that was not her own. Some of the Scotsman and lasses did not want a French Queen, but rather one of their own on the throne. Despite all of James' efforts Mary at times felt alone. It was the time at night when James was far away and out of reach that made Mary feel frail.

Forever loyal Mary would be to James despite how different they were. But wasn't that was what made them work together? As the moon started to shine into the room. Mary with some pain carried her son over to the window. Hushing him into a sweet sleep.

The bells had rang out all evening, like birds singing before the setting of the sun. The composition had not been played since James was born and only ceased when fireworks sparkled in the darkness. Blazing, brilliant colours of crimson and gold, sapphire and silver exploded like brilliant stars in the night. James had opened the palace stores so that barrels of whiskey and wine might be rolled into the town square where bands played tunes for galliards and voltas. The happy people cheered for their King and his heir - but above all, they cheered for Mary.

James had spent the evening more humbly than his own people. A lit candle and thanks in the Royal Chapel, a shared bottle of ale over a hearty supper with his closest of friends before retiring for the evening into his chambers.

He did not climb into his bed when he reached his room, he took his pillow and sheet before sitting at the connecting door of his and Mary’s room. He heard an occasional gurgle, he could her hushing their child and he smiled - never feeling truly as he did then before tumbling into sleep.

When he awoke, he judged it would still be early. Half of the court would probably be groaning over a basin - suffering from the night’s celebrations or still sleeping with content smiles on their lips. James unlatched the door to Mary’s chambers and padded into the room. He looked at her lie upon the bed, small and beautiful. She looked as if she lay upon a cloud, white pillows and nightgown enveloping her. He quietly crept upon the bed and lay beside her, wrapping his arms around her he simply lay, listening to her breath.

After watching the fireworks together the little prince was escorted into his own little chamber. He would be safely guarded with his own guards, nurse and anything else a baby prince would need. Mary did wonder what would happen to her own body, such a change it had gone through. The name James had always held such great significance behind it. Now it was not only a name, it belonged to the two most precious men in Mary's life. Turning over Mary felt the breath of her husband running down her neck like cold air. She didn't need to wake up her body found his like the light in the darkness.

Good morning my love.~ Opening her eye's Mary moved closer to him a firm hand placed firmly on his hip. As she rose above him lips swiftly brushing against his.

James smiled when he saw her eyes gently flutter open as she moved herself close to him. He was careful to be gentle with her, as if she was that innocent girl who first came to his bed when she arrived in Scotland. It barely seemed real to him, that they were married and now parents. How they had tumbled so quickly into their life together, so quickly into love.

Tucking a tendril of her hair behind her ear, he pressed his lips affectionately against hers, “Good morning, wife,” he replied warmly.

As they kissed goose bumps appeared over her body, causing a delicious whirlwind to stir throughout her. It was too soon, but Mary could indulge in their kisses which meant more to her than any of their sexual endeavors. Now that we have our child we can just enjoy turning into an old married couple. We can enjoy being husband and wife.

James was royal so things did start out fast paced and rushed. The love Mary had for him was not rushed it had been there all along. All it needed was him and the love he had for her to bring it out. Perhaps in a few years time other children would follow. But there was no rush to simply be his wife was all Mary desired. I still feel like we have just met two young lovers with no care in the world.

Now they had every responsibility placed upon their heads even though they were both young. His eye's were where his heart was placed as open to Mary should she wish to search.

James laughed at her words. An old married couple. He would always be restless, always have the thirst for adventure. Yet, unlike the common ranks of soldiers - he always wanted to come home when the day was over. Even while he campaigned about the land after his coronation, encouraging men to join the army - which was as strong as it had been for generations - to pledge their loyalty to him, he wanted to come home after a few weeks. James loved the sport of a fight, but he even more loved the warmth of a woman’s bed - Mary’s bed.

“We’ll never age,” he mumbled wistfully and playfully, his voice deep as he wrapped her closer, “Our son shall grow but we will remain thus. When he is older, he can take the crown and we’ll return to that little hunting lodge and be as we are now. I’ll be young again and so shall you be.”

His words were the ones of a dream and while he knew that eventually he would no longer be able to fight as he could and she would no longer give him children as she could, he hoped in earnest they would eventually leave the court together and live in peace. He would still be King and she would still be Queen, but their son - his beloved boy - would preside over court, seducing the princesses of Europe and travelling about the land. All would be well and they would be happy.

Mary giggled, pulling the bed sheets over their heads as torrential rain started to pour down outside. It doesn't feel like summer more like the start of winter. With cozy cuddles by the fire and crisp leaves crunching under our shoes. It was warm under here with just herself and James sharing thoughts of their future together. She could only imagine James grow more and more handsome with his age. Why wait until we are old we can still go their now.

Her fingers touched his cheek as she forced her leg between his. It was just a force of habbit the usual pull Mary felt from his body calling to hers.

He didn’t feel the cold, never had - but he felt like he took shelter in Mary’s warmth. As he lay with her, beneath the sheet - which rippled above their heads like the sea - he remembered how it had rained the day they met and how he had wanted her so much and loved her so suddenly. He forgot about the kingdom for a while and his responsibilities, even forgot about their little boy who would only be a few minutes away. His eyes were for her alone.

He knew they would have to wait, until they were together properly but he couldn’t help himself from pulling her closer. He doubted his lust for her would ever diminish, especially now when she had a certain glow to her pink, dewy cheeks. Indeed, he could feel that she was plumper in his arms, her breast fuller and lips fuller.

“You are a cruel temptress,” he mumbled playfully, taking in a deep breath and trying to contain his desire. He nuzzled his lips against her neck, caressing the curve of her hip, “Your spell on me is as potent as ever."

What word's could not say demand to be felt between their bodies. She kissed his lips savagely. Grabbing at his limbs to tangle herself in a tight cocoon which was his body. Mary had a passion for James that could cause the very oceans to tremble. No magic in this world could conjure up the love they had for each other. Mary made the most of loving James. There was no piece of his flesh that she had not touched or kissed. Her lip prints were left like a trail over his body like a lioness marking her territory. She pulled herself up onto his body properly. Gentle sighs of untouched pleasure that built up accompanied the beating of their hearts.

This little witch is looking forward to reuniting with her husband. We shall see and taste the stars when we finally rejoin our bodies as one.