The King's Bedchamber

Finally... She breathed taking off her nightgown as though she was shedding her skin like a snake. Their was something magical about making love to James. Time itself stopped their was nobody left on this earth, but Mary and James. The night was theirs for the taking. She wrapped her long limbs around his body pushing him over as her body crashed like a viscous wave against him.

James did move quickly, each movement was slow and there was a stillness to his passion. He was still exhausted but he knew that once he was in her, he would be gratified and surely - for at least a while - his headache would melt away. 

He moved to be above her, pausing for a moment to look at her body. He noticed a little curve upon her stomach that he was sure hadn't been there the last time she was in his bed. Lowering himself onto her, he cradled her face in his hands, lips brushing against hers as he thrust into her. He moved his head down to the crook of her neck, his lips affectionate and warm against her skin as he began to move more deeply into her.

Mary felt him slipping inside her as though he was falling into darkness. She thrusted her hips up and down against his cock. A high pitched ear tingling sweet cry as her petals fluttered tightly against his length. Her movements were not slow and gentle they were fast as though she was running to the core of their climax. Her tiny breasts bobbed up and down as Mary took control of her own desires.

He moved upon her, gradually increasing his pace once he was deep in her. He could feel her yield to him, contracting around him as he stayed in her warmth. The tantalising bliss of her soft folds, embracing his hard cock and filling him with pleasure. His headache wore away as his urge to pursue his pleasure superseded everything. He was too tired to stifle his moans so he could hear her, his groans were deep and frequent in her ear - a deliciously sinful tone in contrast to her feminine yelps.

This all felt like a dream to Mary. The feel of him the way he moved as graceful as a dove. Only to groan and moan like a wolf howling at the night's moon. Her muscles grew tense her breasts shaking against him as his cock rubbed violently against my clit. Their was no part of her left untouched by him. James made every inch of her body submit to him again and again until he had his pleasure. Even now her breath is ragged his cock quenching her thirst for lust. Oh if Mary was to draw back from him she would ultimately exploded down that harden object of his.

Court had been divided since it was announced that Mary’s labour had begun. After James stormed through the palace, not pausing to so much as bow his head, people descended into a hush and formed little clusters in corridors and dimly lit corners. Occasionally through the afternoon, handmaidens with flushed cheeks and sleeves rolled past their elbows would rush from Mary’s rooms and return moments later with saintly relics, fresh sheets or boiling water.

The cynics - gentry and servants alike, broke down the barriers that their positions held. They hissed in corners, speculating if James would remarry if Mary did not emerge from childbed, would he select a bride of their preference this time, would he abandon the child if it survived and Mary did not? As soon as James’ kinsmen heard them, they ordered them into their chambers to spew their bile in private where James could not hear them or they would take them to the dungeons upon a charge of treason.

The pious fluttered into the Royal Chapel where incense burned, candles flickered and choir boys sang hymns. The kneeled in the pews with bowed heads as a vigil would be said until Mary was safe, upon James’ express request. He had sent word to the abbeys and convents in the city to pray for Mary, intercede divinely on her behalf and beg for her to be shown mercy by God.

His kinsmen: brothers in arms, friends from childhood, the monks who counselled him during his years of confinement, all congregated in his lofty apartments. They offered kind words when required and kept silence the rest of the time. James felt a sense of doom, lurking in his dark chambers, creeping upon him while he kneeled at his personal altar, Mary’s crucifix in hand. He had never held it so tightly, nor prayed with such ardour, “In your mercy and goodness, save her, God. Do not take her away from me. Let me have her pains, let me bear her sufferings, God. She is my heart…she is…I cannot do without her. Do not take her from me, God, keep her safe.”

As soon as Mary had gotten dressed, she tried to see James but noticed that the secret door was locked. Aggravated Mary walked round to his main door, hoping to seek an audience with him. It was all cleverly conducted he could refuse an audience with Mary causing her some humiliation. Except it would be in front of people the gossips or fishermen's wives, Mary liked to call them. Her eyes were red and sore standing out against her pale complexion the blondeness of her hair did not help either. Gently knocking on the door Mary wondered what kind of mood James would be in.

Dawn was beginning to break as James made his way back to his chambers. He had spent the remaining hours of night with Jamie in the nursery but he was too tired and too hungry to stay long into the morning. Indeed, he knew that Ivy would keep him informed and he knew that his son would be well cared for. So, with a growling stomach, he returned to his own rooms.

When he entered his chamber, he noticed his breakfast had already been laid out for him; his bed had been made, windows opened and the fire freshly kindled. He sat down to eat, taking a worn book from his nightstand and read it as he quenched his appetite.

He glanced up as he heard a knock on his door. His eyes swiftly returned to the page as he chewed on a crust of bed, "Come in," he said casually in his usual calm tone, loud enough so whomever it was would hear.

Mary opened the door and stuck a white piece of sheet around the door before finally entering. Most people had white flags as a sign of surrender in the war or that they came in peace. Is it safe for me to come in or are you not in a happy mood to see me.~

Mary shut the door behind her ordering the guards to take a few steps forward just encase heated words were exchanged. Placing her hands behind her back Mary walked over to him very quiet and slow.

James looked up and saw Mary waving a handkerchief in front of her. He smiled out of habit but he wasn’t sure if he was truly happy to have seen her that morning. He still felt the cloud of the previous evening hang over him - stuck somewhere in between moving on from the events and unable to let them go. He wasn’t sure if it was just Mary, if it was her innocence before him that had caused the break down in communication between them. He had never had to say what he wanted, never expected it either - he’d always experience the fluency of communicating without words, a silent language punctuated by sighs and laughter.

“It’s always safe for you here,” he replied gruffly and looked back to his book, unable to concentrate on the passage which he had been reading. He folded over the corner of the page, closed the book and focussed on his plate instead, “Jamie is not well. Perhaps you should pay him a visit."

Our relationship had changed Mary could feel it at this moment was she the cause of it all or was it something else. She had never felt so lonely and isolated like she did in this moment. Was it even worth rectifying their marriage had it reached the point of no return. In frustration, Mary went and pushed the food out of his reach violently she grabbed hold of his chin forcing his eye's to look at hers. "What has happened to us James for past few weeks I have felt you distant towards me. Maybe you should take a mistress if I am so repellent to look at.[/]~
Her hand dropped and she left his side slowly she could feel her heart breaking into tiny pieces. A pain that Mary had never ever felt before worse than childbirth.

James rolled his eyes as she pushed away his plate and then stormed closer to him. He barely reacted and merely wondered if their happiness last only a short while? Were all marriages bound to fail? Perhaps now the reality was, once they had gotten over the lust and newness of everything, that they were so fundamentally different. He loved her, he always would - even when she behaved the she did in that moment…Indeed he didn’t much appreciate her behaviour or how she acted. If he loved her less he may have reacted differently - no one had ever spoken to him the way Mary did since he was realised from his imprisonment.

“I'm still here,” he said plainly and stood up, brushing past her and collecting his plate again - determined to finish his meal before she disturbed it any more, “And I don’t find you repellant to look at…far from it.”

He took a piece of meat and said, “But you are getting on my nerves and I won’t lie about it. I won’t argue with you either, Mary. If you’ve come for an argument then you will leave disappointed.”

Mary wasn't trying to argue with him she was just an over passionate person and had no qualms in hiding it. His words were the final straw for her though, just how was she getting on his nerves. A bit of a dramatic statement to make. Then I shall go back to France give you some space. I wont stay here for any longer while you are acting like this when all I have felt from you is distance I constantly feel like you want somebody else. You can't even tell me the truth..

James rolled his eyes again and finally cast down his plate - his appetite now ruined. He didn’t for a moment doubt that she would leave but he would not beg her to stay, his pride wouldn’t allow it. As much as he may have wished that she remained with him, he would never ask like a lapdog. Indeed, James was disappointed that she would even consider leaving when Jamie was ailing.

“I have never lied to you,” he said and looked up at her. From the looks of it, she had not slept well either. At once he wished to have her in his arms, to be in her - so he looked away and paced towards the window, “I am here, as I have always been. I still love you, as I always have. If you would prefer to believe otherwise then that is your choice.”

If Mary did go home it would be hard for her to face her family. Two of her sisters were Abbesses, one brother becoming a monk and another brother was working his way up to becoming a cardinal. She didn't want to stay here either and grow more and more on James nerves. Then I shall give you some space just blame the failing of our marriage on me. I need to go I will write when I am ready to come back.

James scoffed. He could not believe how things had become and immediately wished the whole business had never happened, indeed, he barely knew how things had become the way they were, “So you shall leave your son?” he said and stormed towards the door. The key was already in the lock and with one twist he latched it shut and tucked the key into his shirt.

“I told you I would not beg you to stay,” he said and stared at her, with his back to the door, “That is still true...but I did not say I would make it easy for you to leave.”

James moved past her, his shoulder brushing against hers and then with sudden conviction he said, “How could you even consider leaving him? For Christ sake, if you were not my wife, Mary, I would never tolerate this."

You are a fool, I will hate you for this James. I came here to make amends after not fulfilling your wishes and you decided to lock me in.~



Mary would have to remain dignified, although she wanted nothing better than to rip his shirt off and take back the key. Last night she had grown tired of the passions of love making if James didn't react so strongly and bad tempered. She was going to finish him off, but he didn't stay to find out what could've become of the night. He probably thought Mary was acting like a manipulative woman only using him when she saw fit. This was not the case Mary did not feel so confident in pleasing him in certain ways. And even if she took their intimacy to a different level, she was scared James would not look at her with the same twinkle in his eye.



This morning, however, arguments took place and who would want to stay here after finding out she was getting on his nerves. Now he was arguing about their son. Good grief, James I am only human I cannot be a mother queen wife and sexual goddess all in one go. That is asking too much of me, especially when I have yet to find my feet in motherhood and being a queen.~

He couldn’t quite believe that his life had unravelled so quickly, that they had become one of those couples. He reflected upon how it happened, was it before Jamie or after? Had he grown distant, had he neglected her? He knew he wasn't exactly a good husband, indeed the type of husband that Mary expected was likely very different from who James was. Yet he didn't exactly think he was bad to her. He loved her, surely that was enough.

James made over to the window again, casually and seemingly unaffected by it all. Indeed, he was troubled but he was still sure that all would be well. He was determined not to fight with her, so he would try not to - though he may tease her and aggravate her a little, "So call me a fool, a ghràidh," he said nonchalantly, "Hate me, pretend I expect all these things of you and spend your days cursing the man you are married to."

He sat upon the window sill, retrieved the key and sat it beside him. James took his time and glanced behind him. He noticed that, for the first time that month, it was bright and the sun was almost breaking through the clouds. The tops of the trees were golden and he remembered when he found Mary in the woods and they had spent the afternoon together. He smirked to himself and then looked back at Mary, “The truth is, Mary, I have no wishes that I want you to fulfil. I don’t expect you to be a Queen or a wife or a whore. I do expect you to be a mother, as I'm sure you expect me to be a father. I will not tolerate my son being neglected, he will not have the motherless childhood that I had. So hate me, my love, but do so when you are caring for our son."

What right did James have to lock Mary in his bedroom because he was born a king or because this was what men did to try and control their wives. If that is the case James would have to imprison Mary she would not leave so quietly or nicely for that matter. How on earth could they make this right between them it all spun out of control so quickly. Mary did not want to spend the rest of their marriage, trying to make amends constantly trying. One thing James if you don't want your bed to be so cold at night I suggest you stop comparing me to your mother. Parenthood his new to us both and I will see our son when I want to not when you say so. ~

If all of this would drive James into the bed of another woman Mary did not care. When they first were together her blood ran boiled at the thought of him with another woman Mary had been very selfish. Now he could take half the court into his bed and it wouldn't bother her. Mary had given him his heir as far as she was concerned her duty was over.

He looked at her for a long moment, his dark eyes appraising her. It were as if he had never seen her before - never seen her smile nor laugh with him. Her words erased all the memories he had of her. He hated himself for still loving her and thought himself a fool, a mad fool, for still keeping her still in his heart…yet he denied all love and fondness in that moment.

He stood up with sudden conviction and gathered his coat. He loathed it, but he was genuinely bruised by her remark. He had never allowed anyone to speak to him like that and wife of not - he would not remain to have her be so…so French. To be sure, Mary was passionate but not in the same way James was, clearly. There was a coldness to her then, an ability to leverage the flame in her…yet the one in James always burned.

“Perhaps, Mary, if you had taken the time to get to know then I wouldn’t need to remind you how life was before you were here.”

He took the key and made over to the door. As he unlatched the door he muttered, “Go to France then. Go to your King across the sea and ruin our alliance. Spread gossip over Europe, let England know we are weak and put every man, woman and child upon this land at risk. Jeopardise your son’s safety and mine. As long as you are happy, Queen Marie, that is all that matters.”

If you would think I would gossip about our marriage, then you don't know me at all.

 She wasn't sure how but she managed to hold it together even though everything they had both worked for had gone to ruin. I'll be back to my son James you can count on that. Mary left him standing there he steps quicker as she raced out of the palace. Her whole body was numb and all she could think was what the hell just happened.

"Take a guard of thirty, at least," James said quietly as he stood in doorway, "The English court are in France - stay away from them and their King. Under no circumstances should you meet with him. You may hate me now but you are still my wife, you are still a Queen and that is all that I ask of you."

He glanced at Mary and paused a moment, half expecting her to take it back and tell him she would not leave. He didn't think she would be so naive to assume that there would be no repercussions of her leaving. She may not talk, but everyone else would. She was a Queen and obviously people would learn of her movements. He would have to spend her visit away trying to lie and protect the land.

Briefly the other day while being intimate with one another he had mentioned something about the Tudor king in France. That had been enough to put her off as surely their paths would cross, then again he wouldn't know Mary. With a hint of frustration she came back to James tail between her legs head dipped down low as she walked back to him. Sorry

 was a simple muttered word, one that she should've used this morning before all of this whirlwind wreckage

That was enough, of course it was enough. He had forgiven everything she'd done and everything she could do, long before that day. For him there was no choice. He loved her, and that was enough.

He took a deep and measured breath. As he let out his sigh, he walked back into the room - casually kicking the door shut behind him as he did. He didn’t say anything but moved towards the hearth and began to light a fire. When the flames caught and burst with a crackle, he stayed perched upon the floor, “Will ye forgive me?” he asked deeply with no pretence.

Mary was exhausted, it was better to forgive and forget and move on from all that had happened. All she wanted was James to just hold her like he used to do later when she would be alone Mary would allow herself to cry but not now. You are forgiven James.~