"You are alright, my sweet boy." the Queen whispers, running a hand through his sweat matted, dark blonde curls. The boy shudders in his sleep, his face scrunching up. "Hush, you are dreaming, you must rest." her voice is quiet, soft, gentle. She dips her hand into the cold bucket of water, ringing out the rag, before pressing it to the boys' face. She gently cleans the sweat, trying her best to cool down his warm skin.
"This is all we've ever wanted, is it not?" Francis' voice startles her, and she shakes in surprise, accidentally pushing a stripe of cold water down the side of her sons' neck and behind his ear. She whispers an apology, turning to see the young King of France push himself from his slouch at the doorframe. He walks over towards the two, pressing a hand to Mary's hair as he eases himself down at her side, and their sons'. "Not his sickness, we would never wish for our children to suffer, but to have the opportunity to tend to a child of our own. All we ever wanted." Francis clarifies.
"I suppose." Mary whispers, handing the rag to her husband. "His fever is lesser than this morning, if he sleeps through the night, I think his fever will have broken by the morning. Doctor Emmanuelle says it is but a cold, a winter chill. But I still worry for him."
"As every good mother would." Francis says, taking over his wife's position to wipe their sons head and hair. "The children have told me, as much as they are able, that they will pray for his health." he smiles gently, adjusting the cloth over his wife's mouth and nose when she squats down with a fresh bucket of cold water, chilled from James' private balcony. "Are you sure you want to continue to stay vigil? I can take over for a while, so you can bathe, eat, rest. We must think of these two, as well."
"I am thinking of them, because this is over my face." she points to the deep blue fabric that extends over to the back of her head, a knot protruding, stark difference to the dark curls that are piled at the nape of her neck in a simple style that speaks of practicality and not fashion. "I eat when my belly rumbles, I drink when my mouth is dry, I send for the guards to pick him up to put him in the clean, dry bed. I obey what Catherine says about twins' safety, but I cannot leave a sick child who needs his mother." Mary finishes. "I can do nothing more for him or them," she nods to the protruding bump. She's got a while to go, yet. Only just passed four months gone, but with the midwives certain that the Queen has been blessed twice over. She cannot wait to meet them, have James and Anne and her perfect little Francis kiss their heads and whisper them stories, it's the life that only a few years ago, she never thought she would have.
"You will rest when you feel the urge, yes? You will not push yourself?" Francis asks her. Mary nods.
"Of course." she says.
"Then," the King of France. "we will begin our vigil." and there, the two doting parents will stay until their child will wake again. And wake, he sure will.
/
Frary parents are the best!
Comments please!
YOU ARE READING
You Are My Light Part II
Historical Fiction-Reign Oneshots/Taking Requests- The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light. Part 2! -Read TEML first!-
