Francis slammed the door behind them, leaning his body against his wife. He felt every inch of her, smelled her scent after so, so long of being without it. The size of her abdomen proved how long he had been parted from her, but no longer. Her warmth enveloped him, her small, soft hands cupping his face tenderly. She brought him in for another kiss, one unlike the ones they had shared in the courtyard, desperate and happy, this one was sensual and deep. But before it could get serious, his wife pulled away from him and directed his attention to the steaming copper tub that had enveloped their chambers into a steamy, sensual sauna.
"Come, love." she purred into his ear. "Let me take care of you." the Queen of Scotland insisted, reaching up to untie his cape. It fell to the floor uselessly, and she started on his armour. She took the chest plate off of his body, resting it and it's counterpart onto the floor, before removing his chain mail and his steel leg plates. He sighed with this gentle attention she treated him to, kneeling before him to remove his ruined boots and thick socks. He closed his eyes, giving himself over to his wife's gentle touch as she undid the ties of his black tunic and his cold leather breeches. They fell to the floor uselessly and he shivered when his underclothes joined them. As she stripped her husband of his clothing, Mary hissed in sympathy, seeing the cuts and bruises he had. The welts and the burns, the ash and the soot, the dry blood and new, bright red scars and the mangled stitches that would have to be resewn and cleaned. She rubbed his stiff shoulders, enjoying the cracks that left his body and the satisfied grunts that left his mouth.
"Get in, love." Mary gently ushered her husband into the hot water. Francis hissed as the heat enveloped his body, forcing his stiff and aching muscles to relax. She helped him sit down on the warm bronze, leaving him quickly to attain a soft cloth and some soap. The Queen gently dipped the cloth into the hot water, before rubbing the soap onto the soft material, placing the cloth onto Francis' pecks before starting to rub at him. He closed his eyes and let out a soft moan as his wife took care of him.
When she started cleaning his shoulders and neck, the future King of France couldn't resist leaning his head back and capturing her lips in a deep kiss. She let out a moan in her own right, for the pregnant Queen had been without his touch for too long, before pulling away, much to his dismay.
"No, love." she insisted softly. "We've plenty of time for that, for now, I'm going to take care of you. Understand?" the voice of the Queen was back, assertive and without doubt. He shut his eyes in submission, letting her take care of every inch of his body. She cleaned her husband in the hot water until his body was clean and the water was murky. He let out a moan as she ran jugfuls of water over his hair and down his back, the hot water and the gentle touch soothing his aching muscles.
Mary turned to her love when the water turned tepid, leaving him for a moment to get a towel for him.
"Come out, my love." she gently whispered into his hair. "I'm going to take care of you, remember?"
Francis groaned in despair, but obeyed her demand, slowly getting out of the water and accepting the towel for his warm body. She lead him to the bed as he dried himself, encouraging him to lay into the soft, warm blankets of fur and finery. Mary kissed his neck as she dried his beautiful hair, admiring the softness and the length. She adored it when he grew his hair out long, it was so soft and beautiful.
"Take care of me." he grinned, his face buried into the pillow. She saw the suggestiveness in his eyes and God, she wanted to, but there was all the time in the world for lovemaking. It could wait.
"Not yet, my love." she whispered, going to her vanity and taking out some creams and tonics that Nostradamus had left here when they got word that the callas soldiers had finally left and won. She walked over to the fire and took off the small, blackened calderon of oil, letting it cool for a moment by extending it out of a window into the chilled air, before walking over to her husband once again. Touching the oil, to make sure it wasn't too hot, Mary gently poured some oil onto his back and smiled as he let out a long, satisfied moan. The Queen straddled the back of his hips and gently massaged the oil into his skin, enjoying the moans and grunts he let out. She gently worked the oil from the tip of his neck to the soles of his feet, taking all the time in the world to relax and soothe her husband.
At the sound of his satisfied grunts, Mary roughly worked on his neck, shoulders and upper back, making his muscles crack as much as possible. It seemed to please him and relieve pain, so she tried to make them crack and pop constantly. At the sight of cuts, bruises and mangled stitches, Mary gently worked in one of the creams Nostradamus had given her, before sewing up the cuts with a needle and thread. One of the tonics had a numbing effect, so she didn't worry about hurting him.
When Mary rolled him over onto his back, she found her husband nearly snoring with the effect her massage was having on him. She smiled, getting back into place, before pausing. The Queen knew that the soldiers hadn't been eating like Kings, relying on only scraps and low quality porridge and oats. So, she imagined if Francis came back to her, he would be skinny and scrawny, and she'd have to work with Catherine and the kitchens to feed him back up. But that wasn't the case. No, her husband was far more muscular than before. His body had seemed to inflate with this new thickness he suddenly had, his pecs bigger and abs more prominent. God, as if the pregnant woman needed any more reason to want her husband more.
Pushing back her physical desires for him, Mary focused on relaxing and soothing her husband again, rubbing in the oil and the creams and the tonics until he was contently resting in the bed. His head was buried deep into the pillows, his mouth open with relaxation and slumber.
The door knocked and Mary quickly got off the bed, covering her husband with a few furs, before cleaning off the oil on her hands and scurrying over to the door. She opened it, seeing a mealy of servants. Two of them held trays full of food, whilst others held wooden buckets.
"Food for yourself and the Dauphin, Majesty," a little, red headed woman stated, gesturing to the platter of food in her hands. "Queen's orders." she stated. Mary nodded and let them all in, figuring that the others were here to empty the tub and take it away into the bathroom. A table was filled with the food, and before long, the bathtub had been emptied and pushed into it's proper place in the bathroom.
When the Dauphin and Dauphine were alone, Mary took a silver bowl of creamy soup and a spoon and slowly walked over to her sleeping husband, bringing him back to earth with the scent of the food.
"Wake up, my love." Mary whispered, the exertion of taking care of her husband at such a late stage of pregnancy taking a lot of energy out of her. His eyes fluttered open and he leaned up from the bed. "You have to eat now." she stated quietly, placing the soup onto his lap. Eagerly, her husband ate it up with renewed vigour, propriety and table manners be damned.
The Queen of France quickly placed one of the trays in his lap once the bowl was empty. Francis ate like a starving man, barely stopping for breath or wine, as he continued to fill himself up with the food provided for him.
Mary slowly picked at the other tray, awaiting her husband finish. When he did, Mary gently took the empty tray and dishes away from him and placed it on a small settee, walking over towards him once again.
"Now," he grinned as she got into bed with him. "now that you've taken care of me," he paused. "I do believe that it's time that I-" he crawled over towards her. "take care of you," he murmured, their lips close together now. "don't you agree?" he asked.
"Wholeheartedly," she grinned, accepting his kiss. Her clothes were gone in no time at all, and her husband took a moment to admire her figure, rounded belly and all.
"I love you so much." he whispered, now seemingly over his stunned shock at feeling a swollen bump under her abdomen when he embraced and kissed her in the courtyard.
"I love you," she softly swore. "never leave us again." she begged.
"Never." he swore.
~~
Aww! I love the reunion scene between Frary in 1x21, but I do think this seemed more romantic with the addition of Mary taking care of her husband post war. How about you guys? Feedback please!
As always, ideas are always welcome, and feedback is essential!
Love,
me
:).
