"I have never wanted anything as much as I want you, my darling." The King of France whispers upon her lips, pressing her tight against the wall and his body, her arms tight around him. She pushes against him, caged in by her corset that's rapidly getting far too tight, and she wishes so much she could pull off the overgown and underskirts, but she can do neither of these things and it pains her so. Especially when he is so luxuriously, horrifically so tempting and allure that she begs with no words at all.
"I can not stand the wait any longer." Mary whispers as she tangles her fist in his long, soft curls. The Princess of Scotland aches to push his doublet and waistcoat off, to rip the cotton undershirt, and taste his skin once more. She aches, she craves, yet she is denied by reasons of propriety and envy. Oh, how she hates her faith and the rules they must all follow, for they deny her such pleasures that she has never been denied before.
Francis pulls away from her with his own tortured moan, and she knows he suffers just as much as she does. From this, from their love and just that up until now, it has been denied because of a Duke who reached too far and an advisor frantically clinging to waining power across the sea.
"When will he arrive?" Mary begs, walking over, for without his touch, she is cold and undone. "This waiting, denying ourselves what we have never done before. I can not understand why we must do this." Her arms wrap around him, and his head falls back as they relish in each others warmth and fielty.
"Although we hold sweigh with my uncle, he can not grant us permission to marry unless he sees that we are just as denied and depraved as any other Catholic. Although we know how he enjoys his meat and wine." The King answers, running his fingers down the back ties of her gown. He itches to remove it, but they must portray their cause for show. It does not do well to beg for marriage after annulment and legitimisation with sweaty, unkempt hair and flushed cheeks. Even if he is a blood relation to the Pope, and she is a Princess with a claim to the long since religiously unkempt England.
"I have bourne you four sons. They are engaged to Princesses all around Europe in all but name. We have my brother, the Kings and Emperors who are going to marry their daughters to our sons, all the Dukes and duchess', counts and nobility. Why must we still play his game?" Mary begs, holding onto his wrists as she speaks.
"I know it's frustrating, my darling. Just a few more days and the annulment will be finalised and we can wed, our sons will become Princes and our oldest will be a King. I promise, my heart. Its a done deal, we just have to go through the theatrics and sign the papers."
"All of this just because your little Queen won't shuffle off to the side." Mary huffs. "Can I not just have my brother send assasins, all I want is for all of this to be over?"
"No, Mary. Although you are loved by the people, your popularity would diminish if they found out that an innocent girl was killed for us. You must think of the long game right now. Being a Queen, your reputation means more than a few moments of petty one upsmanship." Francis says, pulling her hands away and ushering her to sit down. She does, and the King kneels in front of her. "You are my Queen, my one love and the mother of my children. One day, we will be wed and you will finally attain the position you've always wanted, and deserved. It will be soon, we will have everything we want. Our sons are going to be in the line of succession, your name will live forever in their blood. But for now, we have to wait." He pauses, running his thumbs over her knuckles. "Lola Fleming is no Catherine of Aragon. I did not lay with her, she and I have no children, dead or undead. She is no warrior Queen with important connections. Lola is just the daughter of a noble who reached too far. She will leave, becaude she has no choice." He promises, his hands still warming hers. "The moment we announce the annulment and Lola is sent back, the first thing we will do is announce our engagement. Do you trust me?"
"Of course, the wait just agonises. We've never had to use celibacy and sitation before in our situation."
"We have not, but it will be no longer once we are married." Francis stands. "You are already the most magnificent Queen, I pine for the day you'll be my wife."
"I want nothing more." Mary stands with him, tangling their hands together. "Let's see our sons, husband. The days will be short before they are Princes."
"Yes, they will be."
~|~
Some things will never change, I will always get far too annoyed whenever i don't get comments, I'll always love Frary and I will always hate Lola :)
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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!-
