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Prompt - a chapter where he is more with Mary during the Baptism, because he doesn't allow his pregnant wife to back for the gift alone after seeing her face.
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The King and Queen of France walked quickly in step, the King leading his Queen as they began to scale the steps. "You? The godmother? Are you sure?" he asked quickly, rather surprised that Lola suggested Mary to be the Godmother, especially after his wife told him of the fight the two had had the day before. He didn't think she would even let him claim his child, let alone willingly be the child's guardian if anything were to happen to himself or Lola. But his wife continually kept surprising him.
"Yes. Do you disapprove?" Mary asked, letting go of her skirts as they reached the end of the staircase. She cocked her head to the side, figuring that he'd be happy with this latest development, seeing as though he did indeed love his child and he loved her, so why would he be anything but happy when she was willing to care for him like her own?
"No." he shook his head, a smile growing on his beautiful face. The King of France brought them both together, making her front rest upon his own. "Quite the opposite." he swore, cupping her face in his hands. "It makes me happier than any man, any king has right to be." he gave her that bright, beautiful beam that had never failed to bring the air from her very lungs and make her heart stutter in her chest. Mary gave him a pretty smile in return, flushing as he pressed a kiss to her lips in front of their court. She blushed with pleasure as he let her go and rested his forehead upon her own.
But that's when Mary felt it.
She inhaled sharply, bringing her hand to her womb as if it would make the sudden sharp pain go away. She sucks in air, making her husband pull back and frown a little.
"Are you all right?" he asks her softly. Mary swallowed thickly, nodded swiftly.
"Yes. I... I... I just remembered-" Mary lied, her body growing tense as that horrid feeling continued to wrack her small body. Her insides felt so tender, a sick pain twisting her insides in such a sharp pain that it left her breathless. But he couldn't know that, he was so happy with the baby and his son. Mary couldn't let that beautiful fire die out just because of her. "I left the gift for the baby in my chambers. You go ahead. I'll be right behind you." she smiled, but Francis did not move.
"That's not it." he frowned deeply, looking at her, deep in her eyes. Damn him! When had he gotten so good at reading her?
Her facade was broken as another sudden wave of a pain consumed her. The fake smile she wore twitched, and his frown deepened. He brought her closer to him again, as if that would stop the sudden pain and cramping she had.
The Queen inhales sharply again, mentally begging her body to just stop.
"Mary. What's wrong?" he frowned deeply. She interally huffed, there was no stay of execution for him. She couldn't protect him from this anymore.
"Um, it's nothing." she lied, her eyes slipping closed as she felt it. A slick substance starting to coat her inner thighs. Tears budded to the surface and she gripped a hold of his doublet to try and keep her balance. Call her crazy or a prophet, but she knew. She already knew.
"Well, it's not nothing. I'll get help." he started, lurching away to find somebody. Catherine, maybe. Or the new court physician that they had to replace Nostradamus with.
"No!" Mary snapped. If he wasn't leaving, then she needed him with her. Not with Lola, not with the baby. With her. It may be selfish, it may be desperate, but she needed him.
"Oh," Mary moaned, her body contracting again, in a pain so harsh that it brought her knees shaking. He held onto her tighter, his handsome face taut in a horrible frown. "could you just help me to our rooms?" she asked him. He nodded swiftly, wrapping his arm around her waist to hold her weight up. His jaw set and he moved them swiftly to their chambers.
"You need a physician." he stated, opening the door to move them into the chambers. "My mother, somebody." Francis swore, sitting her down on the settee and moving her legs up to hold her there.
"No." she shook her head, her eyes closing. "Tell no one. Not yet." she whispered, hissing in pain as she felt the contraction again.
Francis gasped as her feet and shoes moved into his view, escaping the skirts of her pink gown. He stared at her feet, watching the pretty heeled shoes she wore now covered in deep red blood. Mary shut her eyes in shame, not wanting to see the look on his face as the blood continued to slide down her pale legs. She whimpered, keeping her tears at bay for his sake only, trying to concentrate on her breathing. The contractions continued on, and she could do nothing about it.
"You're bleeding." he finally breathed, after several seconds of stunned silence.
"Francis," she whispered. "I-I think I'm loosing-" she breathed quietly, her voice choked with tears and pain. Why was this happening to her? She heard his rush of breath and opened her eyes. Her husband could see the pain and the tears, but she didn't let them go. "There-there's nothing we can do about it now." she breathed.
"Oh-" he breathed. "Oh-oh my god." he said, finally coming back to earth. She hissed in a breath, letting out a rush of air. The pain was so intense, so horrid, like a blinding, searing pain. But that was nothing compared to the pain she felt in her heart. Never before had it hurt so, so much. Torn apart, left behind by nothing but bloody pulps.
"We-we have to go." Mary breathed. "Change my dress and-"
"What? Mary, no. This is happening, you're in no fit state to go anywhere. You must rest." he ordered swiftly, swallowing back his pain and his own shock in favor of making sure she was going to be alright.
"What's the point? Francis-" her breath was taken away by another wave of pain. She moaned softly, her hand tightening in his jacket. "I don't want to ruin things for Lola and the baby." she breathed out.
"Mary, this is absurd. Now is not the time to think of others." he snapped. She winced as if he had struck her.
"You-you have to go. Go be with your child-" she sniffled, looking away. She wouldn't be able to keep such an exterior for much longer. Not with the physical pain and the mental anguish coming to a head.
"And leave you?" he asked, leaning closer to her. "The very thought is inconceivable. You think I could be anywhere except for right here? Conde or Bash will stand in my place. My place is with you right now." he swore. "I'm not going to leave you, not now, not ever. Especially with-" he glanced a blood sickened eye over to her shoes, which were now completley covered in the horrid crimson liquid. "Mary, I-I can't put on a fake smile and pretend everything's okay, not now." he shook his head, wrapping her up into his arms.
It was then that Mary broke. As soon as she was ensnared in his arms, all the tears came rushing forwards and she let herself break, let herself feel. Francis held her as tight as she would allow, letting his own tears descreetley slip into her dark locks. Mary cried openly and honestly, her hands tightening on the ripcord at every wave of pain.
"I know how much it meant to you. Not for the realm, for you. You want us to be a family. These last weeks, I couldn't help wondering... would he have your curls, or have your eyes, or would he be a blend of us both?" Mary couldn't help but let out, her tears choking out the words. She cried openly and loudly, for as long as she wanted.
"Shh," Francis whispered. "It's alright. I'm here."
