❝ Tell me losing everything is what saved you,
Tell me you finally tasted freedom.
Can you even imagine yourself in paradise?
Even the daughter of gods must know loneliness, must sometimes want nothing more than to be trapped in a hell of forevers...
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1495 Stirling Castle, Scotland
James isn't entirely sure how they've ended up here, but he's not going to complain about it at all. He watches from a slight distance as Bess sets Margot on her little feet, holding tightly to the one-year-old's hands. Margot babbles happily and takes a few hesitant steps forward, her chubby legs bowed out. Bess is looking down at the babe, pride sparkling in her grey eyes. Even from a distance, James can hear the encouragement that Bess is providing as their youngest child takes her first steps.
"You're going to be exploring the castle soon enough, aren't you?" She says, laughing when Margot babbles an incoherent response. They're toddling around the practice yard, roaming in circles and stopping when Margot sees something on the ground that sparks her interest. A smile spreads across his face when James watches the babe squat down and then lean back a bit to land on her bum.
Bess shakes her head and kneels on the ground next to her, wrestling something from the babe's tiny fist. James knows from experience that the grip of a babe can be stronger than even steel — he doesn't envy Bess having to take something away from their daughter. Margot shrieks in anger as whatever was in her hand is taken away, her little face going red.
"Dramatic," Bess sighs affectionately and stands, swiftly lifting the babe to her hip.
Margot continues shrieking, but Bess pretends that the noise has no effect on her. By the time Bess's halfway across the practice yard, Margot's shrieks have quieted to fake tears. James laughs at the eye roll Bess gives her.
That is, until his wife catches sight of him and strides over purposefully, already handing the babe over before she's even that close. James takes her easily and cuddles her close, pressing a bearded kiss to her light hair. Margot tucks her body close to her father's chest and Bess swears the child gives her a dirty look.
"Don't encourage her," Bess chastises, not really angry.
"Ah, I haven't encouraged anything," James retorts, smiling. Margot pats his cheek with a chubby palm and he turns his head to kiss her hand. She giggles and pulls her hand away from his scratchy beard.
"Haven't discouraged her from that maddening shrieking," Bess shoots back. But even as she's talking, her hand snakes out and strokes against Margot's ankle. The skin there is soft and pale and apparently ticklish, if the way Margot scrunches her body up in James's arms is any indication.
"She's just trying to express herself, mo chridhe," James smiles, nudging Margot's cheek with his knuckle, "Aren't you?"
She bares her teeth at him in a happy grin, babbling, "papapapa," and giving him a particularly droolly kiss on the cheek.
"Charming," Bess murmurs fondly. "You have her? I have to fix my hair before we welcome the Danish ambassadors."
James nods. "Of course. Maybe Margot and I will see what the kitchen's cooked up for sweets after supper."
