The Great Hall

Autumn entered the great hall she was in aww of it all. Yes her father Francis Marcoux told her of Scotland's great castles before he went off to other country as French Ambassador. She could speak French and English and German and Spanish. And she knows many dances.

Mary had been alerted of a guest who was seemingly new to the Scottish court. Normally James would of been told of this stranger's arrival, but he was not here. Mary had been sleeping trying to shake of the nausea that plagued her. Noticing the guest she had the local guard announce her.

"Marie de guise queen of Scotland."

All the courtiers standing by bowed and curtsied as Mary gracefully glided past them. She now had the respect and gratification of her husband's people, it truly was a relief for Mary. Welcome to our court my lady. Tell us why you have come to visit us.

Her voice was sweet like a beautiful sunset yet Mary had the emotive voice that made people pay attention to her.

She curtsies low to the queen."I am here to teach some dancing for I am a dancer. I was hopping to teach you as well your majesty if I may."She said with a smile on her face.

So it is employment that you seek. ~ Mary was insulted by this girls tongue. She knew how to dance was given the very best dance teachers throughout France. What would James do if someone insulted him in his very court.

You may dance for us and if the role hasn't been filled already. I shall speak it over with my husband. ~ Mary waved over the Italian music band that always accompanied James throughout the land. Making people's spirit's high throughout Scotland. Indeed, they had played for us that fruitful night many days ago. It had all felt like a dream those blissful days away from court just Mary and him. Now she felt abandoned in the Scottish court while James tended to whatever it was he was attending to. The sound of the band striking up brought Mary to the present moment.

When you are ready my lady. ~ Mary took a seat as the court turned their eyes to the girl.

James had returned to court after some days away from the palace. There were taxes and land rents to collect, fields to be harvested and political arrangements to be made. Now that Mary was with child, there were marriages to be agreed upon. He didn't much like the idea of his child being sold in marriage - boy or girl - yet, after meeting Mary he had developed the opinion that not all arranged marriages were bad.

As James rode up to the main entrance he was told Mary was holding court in his absence - fulfilling her duties and her role, with the grace and dignity she always carried herself with. He couldn't wait for a private moment with her, he had to see her - to be with her and possess her. He would take her away from the crowds and love her in the quiet...even if their reunion had to be in public.

He strode into the great hall, hat in hand and a bright grin tugging upon his lips. He all but ignored the courtiers who welcomed him back, merely nodding as he walked past them. Finally he reached the great hall and saw Mary - resplendent and almost glowing. He paused and watched her in almost boy like wonder, barely noticing the waif in front of her. Finally he made his way through the crowd, the courtiers realised who he was and whispered amongst themselves as they bowed, "My love," James greeted with teasing formality.

As she turned a familiar shadow gradually making his way through the crowd caught her attention. Mary had never seen him wearing a hat before how gallant James looked. He owned the room even without wearing his crown he owned it. Her eye's caught the gazes of those who looked up to him as somebody that they wanted to be. The elder ladies thought of him as a son some their brother. To others he was to have their utmost respect like Kings should do. Your majesty is just in time . We have a guest who wishes to teach me how to dance. Does you majesty care to watch.

Her dainty hands were cupped softly around his as she looked lovingly yet longingly back into those puppy eye's of his.

James glanced down to the girl that Mary addressed, wrapping his arm affectionately around her waist as he did. She was a peculiar thing, he thought, she dressed and seemed to behave like the court jester and yet James had never heard of a girl being a monarch’s fool, “Of course, sweetheart,” he replied to Mary - loud enough so that the crowd would cheer on this unknown dancer.

James leaned a little closer to Mary, his lips grazing against her cheek, “I’m hungry,” he whispered in her ear and kissed her cheek, “Ravenous…"

James thrilled Mary when he cheekily spoke of his hunger knowing that he meant it was hungry for me. Locking her fingers around his. Mary merrily led him over to where their seats had been placed at the top table. Our hands always intertwined, wrapping our bodies like they’re supposed to be one not being able to resist the temptation to tickle,and it feels like we touch a lot but our lips say not enough and her body seems to need his warmth. Come to me tonight with your ravenous hunger. My fingers have been kept away from your skin for too long.

She had whispered in a hush tone as her hand came to linger between his legs. Mary did it ever so discreetly that you would have to bend down to see where her hand had been placed. It wasn't their for long, but it was just enough to light that spark for James.

James glanced about the court as she spoke to him, in that sweet and loving tone of her’s, keeping up appearances and nodding to the occasional courtier who strayed into his line of vision. There was a different atmosphere about the court, James noticed. For a start, there were more women than usual. To be sure, there were ladies before Mary arrived but now they were in full display, clothed in their finest gowns with hair elaborately spun like crowns upon their heads - almost as if they were competing with Mary and her ladies. Before they had a queen, the women dressed in a fashion which would please solely men and while there were a few who still did - necklines cropped low and hair tousled about their faces - most now seemed to take on new roles. The whole palace seemed more feminine, garlands about the castle and candles twinkling about them. He smiled to himself - rather amused - contemplating just how changed things had become under his wife’s influence.

“Are you both well?” he whispered and glanced to the little curve of her belly, “Have you seen a physician yet?”

While he spoke - protective as ever - his hand moved to her lap. At first, simply grazing against her thigh and then resting more firmly between her legs.

Mary caught him gazing at his people or his clan was the phrase the Scots used. While she looked at him Mary took a silent moment Replaying every single memory that had led her to James. She was in love with James and at times was scared to lose him. The emotion hit her hard like being struck in the chest repeatedly with an crowbar. Her hand tightened against his arm as though in this very moment he would float away from her. Yes my sweet I am carrying your future child. Isn't it marvelous!

A weak cry of lusty promises bounced against the air. Her hands banged down upon the table as her desires grew uncontrollable. Mary lifted the first layer of her skirts inviting him in to her deserted flower. Her petals felt as if they had dried up among just bursting to be touched again.

James chuckled at her reaction and moved his hand, brushing it against his beard. A few people had heard her squeal and looked about - a little perplexed, a little more than curious. Their whispers had clearly grown loud enough to provide a distraction from the strange dancer girl who stood about quite still and not contributing much entertainment. A few women made remarks to each other behind their pale hands and a few men exchanged knowing glances.

"Tá fraincis custaim difriúil ó linne," he projected towards the crowd, "My wife is simply keen to see what this stranger shall do."

This was enough to pacify them with a gentle ripple of laughter at his gaelic words and focus their attentions back onto the dancer girl. He looked back to Mary once they were distracted again, "Tonight," he said - teasingly chiding her and leaning close again, "What did the physician say - can I do anything to help?"

She curties low to the king. And then starts to dance. As they watched her dance.

A pout formed on her bottom lip. She had missed their familiar intimacies together, how they joined together like they had never been apart. The dance that was unraveling in front of them was rather different than what Mary was expecting to see. Was it a medieval ritual, this girl was performing, she couldn't tell. A protective hand came to rest on her stomach just incase this girl would curse her. Her blood ran cold, fearing that the young girl might make fire with her hands striking it directly at Mary. James mother tongue still made Mary grow shy like a young girl receiving the attention from her crush.

Will you speak Gaelic to me tonight! I must rest more not to wear a corset over my stomach. I may also keep on my feet until labour happens. I cannot imagine giving birth in a darkened room in the middle of summer with the windows shut and a roaring fire ablaze. The only thing I want from you is your word. Tell me you will do all in your power to keep our child from marrying into the English dynasty.

James looked on at the girl moving in front of them. He had seen dances like that before, except never in court. They had been conducted under the blanket of night, shielded from prying eyes by the dark. Her dance was no galliard, no new dance from Italy. Her movements were quick and fluid - as if they were not really her own and she was being controlled by something else. James caught sight of Mary touch her hand to her belly and he placed his hand protectively over her’s. A few in the crowd sniggered beneath their breath, the rest looked on with furrowed brows; old women clutched rosaries that hung around their necks, men holding their hand instinctively over the hilt of their daggers, “That’s quite enough, mistress,” James commanded towards the dancer and glanced to his guard dotted about the room. They nodded knowingly and took a few respective paces forward.

James returned to Mary, his arm rested on the back of her chair as his hand rested on her shoulder, “They won’t, love,” he soothed, “The English are breaking with church and therefore the rest of Europe…I was thinking - perhaps - of a strengthened alliance with France. Our child shall be safe from the Tudors.”

“And,” he whispered micheviously, kissing her cheek, “I am very pleased about the absence of a corset…"

Mary had pictured the ideal family that she wanted with James. A boy and girl both sitting on either side of them when they sat upon their thrones. Whatever happens when they had children, she would make sure that they knew how wonderful James was. How lucky they would be to have him as their father, king and mentor. Together we shall make sure that Scotland is a safe land. So that our children shall not have to what you had to face.

She kissed his hand curling her fingers around his as she turned to face him. An French alliance would strengthen the ties that were already made between the two glorious lands. But a Scottish alliance could also be useful. Maybe our son could marry a French lady and if we have a daughter, she could marry a Scotsman. Your people have been loyal to you over many years and have welcomed me into this wonderful land. I wish that they know how much we appreciate them. They could of welcomed me with pitchforks and verbal abuse but they did not. And it is all because they love you.

Never before had Mary seen such loyalty for a king than the Scots. Leaning closer Mary touched her forehead against his. Just like the brightest stars in the sky his eyes shone glistening with a warm tender love.

He smiled proudly to hear that Mary had settled in, glancing about him as she spoke at his side. He knew the people would like her initially, if only for her beauty. Yet. she seemed to have garnered loyalty and respect amongst the court now, which was no easy feat. The elderly nobles would still grumble away, the opportunists would still present their young daughters to James but the majority bowed willingly to her, showering her with blessings as they did. Despite years of reports from ambassadors that she was a meek, pious and gentle girl, most still knew very little of Mary. However, it had not taken her long to make an impression on the people...and James.

As she tipped her forehead against his, he smiled warmly and nudged his nose against hers. He felt like an old married man - perfectly content with his wife by his side, "I love you, Mary," he mumbled.

"I may need to go away again soon," he added casually, "For a while - perhaps a week or two."

It was hard to keep a straight face when she knew that she would miss him. James was restless, she could see that he needed to go off and do whatever needed to be done. He was a free spirit able to stretch his wings and soar across the sky. What adventures does my husband seek that I should lay awake and weep.

She teased him then started to kiss his delicate lips like sucking on a strawberry. Whilst most of the courtiers were here Mary looked at James. A devious yet innocent smile formed on her lips now was the perfect time to announce their upcoming arrival. Will you announce our news my darling husband.Tonight would be unforgettable for James not for Mary. It would be the last time they would make love before their child would come. Mary would embrace her sexual goddess which was hidden deep inside her. It would all be for his pleasure, not hers. She had always fantasized of some great Italian artist drawing their bodies collaborated as one. With cherubs dancing above them stringing their bow and arrows spreading love wherever they went. Perhaps Mary would draw out her fantasy and show to James how she saw them through her eyes.

He took her hand into his and kissed it gallantly, his lips resting against her soft skin before his mouth kissed her tenderly. Her hand was so delicate compared to his - his skin tanned and calloused with labour, her’s creamy and soft. In that moment he remembered how very slight and gentle Mary was. She looked so strong when he returned to her but beneath the gown and act of being queen, she was his Mary - his good and loving wife.

He moved his hand away from hers and touched her cheek lovingly, his gaze conveying warmth - how could he leave her when she was now at her most vulnerable; how could he ever lust after another or have his time taken by his duties? Yet, he had vowed to his friend and he knew Mary would be well cared for, he would never be too far, “Just helping a friend, a ghràidh, we’ll not be too far away but I won’t be able to stay with you incase we need to travel. But I’ll only ever be a days journey away from you. And I will always return to you.”

He nodded, he didn’t want to announce immediately - despite the temptation every time he spoke with someone. He was fiercely proud of her - she had greater courage than most and now she would have to endure the pains of her condition…yet she still carried herself with the same grace she had when they met - as if she were unfazed by the whole thing. He wanted to send a clear message to the English too - his country was secure, he had set it to rights and now their heir was nearly arrived. Mary had made him feel safe, was his refuge and now she gave hope to the country. James stood with a deep breath, pausing briefly to lean down to kiss her forehead, “Friends,” he began - commanding silence with only one word, “It is with the greatest happiness that I announce, my wife - and your Queen,” his eyes looked down to Mary, a smile spreading across his face, “Is carrying this country’s heir.”

The crowd erupted into vehement cheers. The women cheering sweetly and praying for Mary to be safe, the men rowdier and relieved of an heir on the way. James’ friends, clustered on the outskirts of the crowd were the loudest of all for such a small cluster - calling out teasing bawdy jibes to James and shouting out enthusiastic blessings upon Mary, “God save the Queen!” one called and the whole court soon joined in.

Mary sat proud feeling taller in her posture as her eye's looked around the room to all who applauded this blessing. Their would be great festivities tonight over this news men would drink themselves merry probably wanting to share a drink with James. To Mary James could spend every night celebrating with his people tonight she needed him more. She was deprived of him tonight couldn't come quicker. Mary placed her hand back on his as James sat down. Porcelain painted bowls were brought to Mary, full of fruits with a side of cream. Is your friend in some trouble my love.

She asked with a concerned voice as brought a strawberry to her lips. Being at court without him made her vulnerable to all kinds of people. One day she stilled planned to go incognito and let James show her the parts of Scotland she had read about. The half eaten strawberry was then dipped deeply into the thick texture of the cream. A smudge was left on the edge of her lips as she continued to eat. The bowls were very French the hand painting was exquisitely talented with floral patterns weaving in and out of each other. James might I invite you and my mother to have some time together while I rest.

James sat down, pouring himself a goblet of wine as the band began to play a familiar and lively tune. The crowd parted to either side of the hall while a few couples began to dance in the centre of the room. They were mostly young couples, junior to James and Mary by only a few years - ones that James knew were not married. The girls bashfully provided their hands to their partners and the boys clumsily trying to remember the steps. He felt very old…but in a good way. He had never been inept with girls like some boys were but there was always that uncertainty of reciprocated feelings. With Mary - he was content, there was enough of a thrill to keep him interested and there was love to keep him grounded.

“No,” he replied and took a gulp from his goblet, “No trouble at all. He is an old friend and he has to…find some answers. I said I’d help, and I want to help.”

He looked at the crockery around them, delicate and feminine - flowers circling around everything, the colours pale pastel shades. The older things were dark and metallic - forged in heat and designed into elaborate shapes. They looked odd together and he wondered if he and Mary contrasted so obviously.

“If you like,” he replied - a little reluctantly after another sip of wine. He was sure that her mother was not especially fond of James and yet he knew he would have to make an effort for Mary’s sake, “Would you not rather her company if you are resting? She’ll know what you are going through better than I ever could."

The table on where they sat had a long gold tablecloth that fell to the floor. She saw that the crowd was busy dancing, chatting some men flirting with ladies with heavier busts. Very subtly Mary ducked under the table, kneeling before James. Licking her lips Mary slowly ran her hands between his thighs. Tugging at the strings on his trousers she wet two of her fingers thrusting her hand against him.

James was reclining into his chair, sipping on his goblet of wine. He nearly choked when he saw Mary, from the corner of his eye, plunge beneath the table. He set his goblet down on the table with a thud and looked at her, mischievously kneeling at his feet.

"Christ," James muttered beneath his breath as her fingers worked at the laces to his breeches. He writhed about in his chair, beneath her caresses, "Mary!"

He shuffled in his chair - torn between letting her continue and forcing her to stop. A good natured smirk tugged upon the corner of his lips as he reached down to her, glancing about him to ensure no one had noticed, "Not here, Mary," he said chuckling, trying to move her out from beneath the table.

You called my love. Mary stuck her head out from under the table digging her nails into his legs as she raised herself up. Her knee rested in between his leg as the full weight of her body leaned gently against his. 

So I love you unconditionally, but at the mention of my mother you seem to cringe. Do you wish for me to send her back to France. She had always imagined that they could all be a happy family it didn't have to be perfect just happy. It genuinely upset Mary that neither one of them seem bothered to try and get along. Searching his eyes her fingers did up his trousers she had gotten rather crafty at this skill without looking.

I think I should tell you about our family secret. Then maybe you will understand the behavior of my mother. Mary had always vowed to keep it a secret within the family now she was married why shouldn't James now. Because she was ashamed and more so would she lose the love of her husband. He was going to be furious at first because Mary never told him when they first met.

“It’s not that,” he protested as she climbed out from beneath the table, ignoring the stirring beneath his breeches and taking a sip of wine, “It’s just that...I presumed she came here to spend time with her daughter and not her son in law, “ he finished off the goblet and set it down upon the table, “If you wish it - I shall speak with her…but I can’t imagine what about.”

It wasn’t that James disliked Antoinette - indeed, how could he when she gave permission for him to marry Mary. Yet, there was something about her that set him on edge, as if she were scrutinising his every word and move. It was clear she was noble in every sense of the word - in her speech, manner and appearance...James was not. What’s more she was a French born woman, his ways were different to Antoinette’s and he gathered that they would have very little commonality to speak of.

“She can stay in court as long as she likes. She is your mother, your family…and now my family. Her place is at your side, especially now,” James said and refilled his cup, “Confess your darkest secret,” he said mischievously and set the pitcher back upon the table, adding with roguish wink, “Shall you now finally admit that it was a spell that you used to seduce me?"