Courtyard

Her heart leapt with joy as Mary saw James galloping over up the hill. She would recognise him anywhere, even if he was disguised as another. Mary had missed him tremendously this past year and all she craved was her husband back. She signalled to the guards to open the drawbridge. Then picking up her skirts she ran as fast as she could down to where he was her heart carrying her body most of the way.

As Mary heard the drawbridge being lowered, she paced up and down her impatience to see James starts to show. Maybe tonight they could become man and wife once again, it was James that she craved so desperately to have her back in life. Mary would do anything necessary to hold his favour once more. This is a very lovely surprise your majesty. Are you staying with us for the night.~

Mary had felt like a young girl waiting for her lover to come back from war. Her excitement was laced in her voice she had tried to rein it in a little but she couldn't. A year ago Mary had asked James to return to her was this what he was doing now.

James jumped off his horse as Mary fluttered towards him, handing the reins of his horse over to the stable boy with a smile while giving his horse a quick pat. It was a strange feeling to return to Mary, it did feel as if he was returning home in a way. The way she greeted him with such enthusiasm. He almost felt guilty, indeed, he had hoped she would be spending her days dancing with her ladies in waiting and walking amongst the grounds with Jamie - not cooped up inside with nothing to entertain her. He strode over to her, walking tall and brought her into his arms, wrapping one strong arm around her and cradling her head as he kissed her hair, “Perhaps,” he mumbled, “I shall see how the weather fairs.”

He let her go and touched his hand affectionately to her cheek, “How is my boy?” he asked and glanced to the palace.

Mary rolled her eye's she had forgotten that this was James she was talking to he would travel night or day. Scotland was his home every path he knew off the back of his hand. She looked up to the sky, everything looking so bright and cheery. As James brought Mary into his arm's it felt so damn good. This was the closest they had been in a year and everything around Mary had stopped.

As Mary took a deep breath every memory they had made flooded her mind. The first time they kissed their lips so eagerly moving together both wanting each other desperate not to be parted. Mary gripped onto him tightly never wanting to break this moment ever again, even when James broke away from her she wrapped her arms around him. He still likes to run around the palace giggling at the top of his voice.~

James grinned proudly as she spoke of Jamie. He’d grown quickly and with every unsteady step he took around the palace, James could feel his pride grow. He wasn’t exactly talking yet but from time to time, he would address Mary as ‘mama’ and reach out for her, he would squeal excitedly as if he was trying to convey what he was thinking and would look at James with a certain knowing. After Jamie was born, Mary and James had grown distant but whenever she spoke of him, he could feel his heart swell and it seemed only natural to hold her hand. So he did.

“And you? Are you as content here?” he asked, "I know I do not visit as often as I should…”

The palace held very few memories for James and though he was born in its very walls, it was never a home for him. Indeed, since the renovations of the rooms and palace grounds, the few vague memories he had not did match how the castle now stood. As a boy it was a fortress, like Stirling, now it had been extended, gilded and improved to look more like the European courts.

Naturally, Mary missed James it wasn't easy for her to be apart from the love of her life. Soon their son would start noticing that his parents were never together, but apart living in different Castles hardly speaking. Her delicate fingers gently became woven with his and she smiled a bright beaming smile that Mary had not done in a long time. She wasn't happy here without James how could she be but Mary did try to make the most of the situation. She would tell her son stories of knights and Queens the servants willing to act out parts for Jamie which he adored. Our son makes me very happy but how can I be hapy without the man I love.~

James glanced down to Mary with a smile. He’d not exactly been miserable in the months leading up to that moment, indeed, he had not spent so much time laughing with his friends for what seemed like an age. However, whenever he was not kept occupied there was a lacking - a feeling he had never experienced before. Before Mary, he was content with parties and hunts and nights of card games with his friends - after her, it didn’t satisfy him. He was happy but he wasn’t content. There was something more, something greater - there was Jamie.

He leaned down and kissed her hair, smelling the familiar scent of honey and jasmine upon her, “I’m sorry. Perhaps I shall stay - for a day or two,” he said and looked down at her with his old, tender gaze, “If you’ll have me.”

I feel like I am in competition with another for your affections.~

Mary whispered remaining nothing but cool, calm and collected. She would not fight for James it was not in her nature to fight, she would rather run away from it all. Letting another year go by without facing the truth. It was all very exhausting Mary did not want to start fresh with James if his mind thought of another. Yet James was entitled to have whoever he wanted as his friends.

James dipped his head, another deep sigh. It had been folly to think Mary would not have heard whispers, court was full of gossips and fishwives. With Mary in Edinburgh the people had less to occupy themselves with, the women did not have her gowns to imitate nor the example she set to follow.

James, though he entertained notions of he and Isabel, had come to realise it was merely a flirtation between friends - good friends. Both she and him knew this: the limits, the consequences. As ever, there was an equality between them - they were the same, alike in so many ways. He thought it was simply because he had never had to deny his passions before, never had to keep them leashed. Isabel was the first woman to wander into his life after marriage and their mutual passions inevitably led to their feelings.

In spite of all that, what James felt for Mary transcended everything. He had never felt such a consuming love, he had wanted to serve and protect her from the moment they met, she could have kicked James into the gutter and he would still love her. On their first night together he had thought to himself: she is the woman. And still, after it all, he believed she was. After a pause he said simply, “I don’t deserve you, Mary,” his voice was soft and husky, with a slight catch in it, “But I would do anything for you…when I think of you with Jamie…I feel as though I shall burst with joy. I’m not a saint and I don’t pretend to be. But I do love you, as best I can.”

And it was true, James loved her more devotedly than he could bring himself to love anyone else.

Neither of them were perfect in this situation Mary could've been a little less French and tried to adopt a more Scottish approach to things. Maybe that would've helped keep them less distant from one another. Scotland was growing on her more she asked for less French food to be made less and less soon she would return to Stirling as it was safer than here.

Mary brought their joined hands to her lips placed tenderly against his skin, which was a bit chilly but still she could feel his warmth underneath it all. Slowly Mary could feel the pull of one another coming back to them as though it had never gone away just a little bit neglected but still strong. I love you James the flame still burns just like the day we first met. You still excite me, fill me with complete happiness, my honourable knight. ~

And like a young girl whose mind was filled with nothing but love Mary blushed giggled as she nudged into his side playfully. It all still remained between them finally she could breathe again, knowing that the love she had for him still remained. So no matter how long James would stay here Mary would enjoy each and every second in his company. They could be themselves and not the King and Queen.

“I wish you’d hit me,” he muttered and stooped down, a smirk playing upon the corner of his mouth as his eyes - which had been focused on their hands - flashed up to her’s, dark and glinting, “Do what you wish to me - kick and punch me.”

Part of him wanted her to hate him, to curse him and push him away only so that he could gather her into his arms once more. He deserved that - at the very least. He did not take frivolous vows, he took theirs seriously and while he had not exactly broken them, he treated them with more levity than he should. Simply, the guilt weighed heavy upon his broad shoulders and he meant to remedy his shame through loving her.

James tenderly touched his hand to her pink cheek, feeling the warmth of her as she flushed florid and youthful. How could he neglect her. He cursed himself in his head and as he did, bent down to kneel on the cold stone of the courtyard. As he looked up to her, his hair spilling over his eyes, he unsheathed his dagger. He offered it up to Mary, holding the sharp blade so that she may grip the hilt, “I swear on the cross and by the iron which I hold that I give you my fealty and pledge you my loyalty. If I rebel again, against you or our vows, then I ask that this iron may pierce my heart...Will you forgive me, a ghràidh?”

Mary shook her head how could she hit James and taint that beautiful face of his. She could think of other ways to punish him which he would benefit from but it would also be pleasurable for him. Mary wasn't exactly the easiest person to live with she had hardly tried to learn about his past, what he got up to in his youth she could've made more of an effort. And she would start from now.

His vulnerable side showed in this moment a side that Mary hated to see as he hardly showed it only when he was really sorry. Quickly Mary kneeled opposite him her facial expression turning remorseful and a little bit guilty too. She had realised that when she tried to apologize for her wrong doings it only spun out of control, pushing James further and further away from her.

Both of them had been hurting from each other when all they both wanted was peace somehow they had rubbed each other up the wrong way. Because the love they shared was so pure and real it had been a massive shock when a simple argument turned into an erupting volcano. May had always said that they loved with a love which was more than love and it was true, they did. I vow that when something is wrong I shall not keep it from you I shall tell you. I will try to understand your past as best as I can and will not force the issue if you wish not to speak of it. But lastly I will take a whip to your arse if this happens again. Can you forgive me as well.~

James broke into a relieved and hearty laugh at her words, which - though sincere - were playful. He anticipated that should he be so callous again, Mary would not hesitate to be more articulate with her anger - then she she might hit him and swear and scream at him. If there was ever a moment when Mary might have left him, pursued some other life with another man - not a soldier and warrior but an academic or scholar, it was that moment. Yet, as she knelt beside him, all was well - she would stay with him…that was enough.

He let his dagger drop and held her face tenderly in his hands. His dark eyes looked into her’s for one brief moment. In those seconds, he was transported to when he met her upon the glen - all those feelings, the optimism that they would be alright, that she was his woman came flooding back, “Christ, a ghràidh, I need you,” he muttered and pressed his lips against hers with all the longing of a man who had never kissed her before, all the passion as if they had been separated for years, “My life is yours. And it's yours to decide what we shall do. My heart has been yours since first I saw you, and you've held my soul and body between your two hands here, and kept them safe.”

With just one kiss everything had been forgotten and replaced with the sweetest captivating kiss that had ever come between them. Her body yielded to the allure of his body those lips taking her into the depths of their untouched desire for one another. The kiss was intense Mary could feel his passion surging throughout her body tickling and teasing her core. Oh James.~

Mary was only capable of loving one man and that was James. He was more than enough for Mary loved her with all his being in the best he could. She didn't need to be put up upon a pedal steel or worshipped all that Mary asked for was that James remained faithful. And to never take one another for granted ever again. If this was to happen again to lose James to the flirtatious female fetal Mary would not recover from it. It would break her completely her very essence would be replaced with nothing but darkness. I could never hurt you James I trust you I guess you are a lover of women, which is a hard habit to break for men. Especially since you have been used to freedom that allowed you to play out your desires however you wished...

Mary paused for a long moment trying to put together the right words to say when it finally dawned on her. She wasn't everything James wanted in a woman if she was, then why the need to be so callous and hurtful. Adding thorns to the wedding vows they had once said to one another. Always she thought no matter if James behaved there would always be a third person in their marriage. James would always find himself looking back at the other life he could lead.

James caught his breath as she pulled away, still wanting to press her lips against hers, having not felt the warm touch of her for a while. Indeed, he had hoped to pull away at her skirts and rush to her rooms. However when he caught her gaze. he noticed her clear eyes - though looking into his - seemed to be seeing something very far away. And in that moment, all his lust was restrained and the fiercely protective instinct in him took over. Whatever it was that she perceived in the distance, as she looked straight through him, was plainly an unpleasant foresight.

He touched his hand to her cheek and the other to her waist as he gradually stood, bringing her with him, “What is it?” he asked and nudged his nose against hers, “Tell me what troubles you…”

He prayed, quietly in his mind, that in years to come they would scarcely remember the year which they had just lived through. That they would reflect upon their life with fondness and not bitter memories. He hated himself for tainting the bliss of their marriage. He would sacrifice his body and soul if he could only make it right.