Tampered Beauty

Rebirth, Part 2

"Ah!" Mary wailed out in pain, her fingers tightening around Francis' palm. He squeezed her hand back, letting her know that he was with her. And that he wasn't going to leave her again. Eight hours had passed since her waters had gone, and still nothing. The contractions had been hard and fast and frequent, but still no baby.

"Can't you do something for her? Anything?! Just look at her!" Francis snapped loudly, his own body tensing at the sight of his wife in great pain.

"I'm sorry, Majesty. There's not enough space for the babe to come out yet. He refuses to drop, sire." Percaville, one of the senior midwives, said to her Emperor, wiping off Mary's blood from her hands, mopping her brow with her forearm.

"You can do nothing? Nothing to speed the process along?" Francis snapped. "Look at her!" he growled, the fierce protectiveness for his wife -that he'd felt even as a young boy- causing venom to drip from his words.

"No, sir. We we can give the Empress only small amounts of food and water. We fear the babe's reaction should any tonics be introduced. Should he come out too quick, your wife could tear and bleed out."

He said nothing, merely looked at his wife, worried and anxious, doublet and waistcoat long since removed, hair messily pushed back. He took a breath of relief as the pain seemed to be lessening a little, her cries starting to quiet, her body loosening its tension.

When she was quiet, sipping on some water Kenna was pouring into her mouth from a goblet, Francis relaxed from his perch on the side of the bed. But his heart still raced as he anxiously prayed for the secure birth of his child and the safety of his wife.

~~

"Tante?" James asked, a small hand reaching out for Greer's hand. The exhausted and grief stricken pregnant Lady in green brushed back his black curls, marvelling in the silky feeling of the ringlets between her fingers.

"Yes, love?" she asked, her voice expressing her own tiredness that was mirrored by the young boy. Hers was brought about by worry for Mary -who insisted she stay in the nursery and take care of her baby and the other children instead of being with her for the birth- and lack of sleep, brought about by her pregnancy and grief of her now buried husband. The small bump -barely even there at a mere six weeks- was well hidden in her gown, even less visible as she sat back down on the Prince's bed. A rare time where he didn't sleep in the royal nursery -where all his cousins slept- he had chosen to spend this night alone. His young shoulders bore the burden of fright for his mothers' life, the only reason he slept here and not the North Wing of the palace was that these bedchambers were a good distance closer to the royal bedchambers than the nurseries.

"Is mama okay?" the crown Prince asked. "Her and Papa were arguing and she was holding me, but then Tante Kenna came in and Oncle Bash took me to you, but mama started yelling differently. She seemed to be in so much pain, Tante. I've never seen her like that before, is she okay?" he asked, his little voice rambling and barely stopping for breath. His beautiful golden eyes that glowed an enchanting golden-green in the candlelight were wide with worry.

"Of course, my love. Your mama is going to be just fine. Your baby brother or sister just decided to come into the world." Greer smiled, but she truly didn't know. Childbirth was a dangerous business, after all. Many women died from it. But, "mama is with the best physicians and midwives in the countries. And your Papa will never let anything happen to her." Greer explained.

James huffed and mumbled something, but she didn't push to know what it was. She knew the effects James suffered from because of his parents' recently rocky marriage and father's mistakes. And she knew how important it was to not patronise or push him to reveal his inner emotions. If he would reveal, it had to be on his own time and terms. Neither he nor his parents reacted well to patronisation, anyway.