Heart and Country
Chapter 1: Waiting
Summary: King Francis and Queen Mary ruled their countries successfully for years, even with a brewing war in their midst, but nothing could have prepare for parenthood.
July 1st, 1568 -
"For Scotland and France!" shouted Mary, as she rallied the screaming prideful troops. She rode her white horse covered in the finest armorer, while she wore her white and black leather clothing with her hair down. She held her head high as she watched her army gather to push England away from their borders of France and into the waters of England where they belong. She drew her sword and waited for her husband, the King of France, who was riding from Paris to Calais, the city they decided to take back from Queen Elizabeth Tudor.
Next to her stood the King's brothers, Bash de Portiers, Duke Valentinois and Prince Charles de Valois Duke of Orleans and the Queen's half brothers James Stuart Earl of Moray and Louis de Guise, Duke of Longueville. The four protectors of the crown. Mary's half brothers had came from Scotland to fight for the cause, while Robert, Mary's other half brother acted as regent and head of the privy council in Scotland while Narcisse acted for France.
The battle was about to begin, and with numbers and strength, it looked as if God had put all his faith towards his faithful Catholic nation. Mary knew it was time to stop being bullied. She was going to put her cousin and England in place.
"Your grace," called James, "The King has arrived."
Francis, on his horse, wearing his silver armorer and crown, galloped to join his Queen. He was ready. With one look of his Queen, he knew it was time.
"You promise you will stay far away here?" he said, "Promise me?"
"I cannot," the Queen answered, "Francis, you can not just put me on the side lines! I gathered these men to fight for us. Let me fight with them."
"Not while you carry our child," Francis said, looking at Mary's large stomach, "You are due any day!"
Mary sighed. She put her small hand on her swollen stomach. The child she carried was her light. She fought every day for a better world just because of the babe she grew. She knew deep down that if she were to lose this baby, she would never forgive herself.
"He's right Mary." said Louis. Louis was Mary's half brother, from her mother Marie de Guise. He acted like a father to her in many ways. He was much older than her and she out ranked him, but with love, Mary had respected her brother as if he was her father. "You must keep the heir safe. You had fought with us. Let your people fight for you."
Mary nodded to her brother.
"You promise you'll be back?" she said to Francis.
"I will," he said.
The King and Queen smiled at each other. A painful good-bye smile for they both knew that Francis could die in battle. It was a risk. King's usually hide at battles, but Francis was not that kind of king. With one last look, they shared a final kiss before he pulled away, calling out his people to the front line. It was time to take back the city of Calais.
Mary settled at camp, a few miles away from the battle. She had decided to not leave to Norte Dame like Francis had requested. She wanted to stay back for just a bit before she left to prepare for her delivery that could happen any day now. She had to finish writing to her french privy council (Stephan Narcisse, Henry de Valois, Francis Duke of Guise, Charles Cardinal of Lorriane, Luke Narcisse) and her scottish privy council (Robert Stuart, John Hamilton, Lord Henry Darnley, Matthew Lennox and Lord Levi Wales.) They were all ordered back at court to work on other important things than the war. She wanted them to know that their services was greatly appreciated.
"Ouch," breathed Mary as she sat, finishing her letters. She called out for Greer and Lola, her only ladies in waiting.
"Mary?" called Greer, "Are you fine?"
"No." she called out, "Greer, go fetch the midwife. I think... I think its time."
Lola burst in.
"Is it time?" she asked, she held her growing belly because she too was with child.
Mary looked down as liquid leaked from her to the ground.
"Yes, it is time. There is no time to move. The child must be born here in Calais."
"PUSH!" yelled the physician.
Mary screamed.
She pushed with all her might from dust till dawn, and yet no progressed was made. Greer and Lola stood by her side, holding her hands as she pushed between contractions. They felt helpless. The midwife was helping the physician in all ways she could. The lady was mixing herbs to help Mary with her pain, but nothing had work, so she teamed up with the physician to help the Queen.
"Where is Francis?" she cried, "Has anyone told him yet?"
"He is still in battle," answered Greer, "He will get the message, once he takes Calais."
"He will be here soon," said Lola, "He wouldn't want to miss his child being born."
Mary nodded at her ladies.
"I believe you," she said, "But if it comes down to it, save the baby-"
"Mary!" interrupted Lola, "You're not going to die! Okay?"
"Promise me... the child, save the babe." she begged.
Greer nodded, while Lola looked away.
"That is an order," she yelled, to everyone in the tent, "The child will be saved, not me."
She looked at the physician and he nodded.
"Yes your majesty," he whispered.
"We've done it!" yelled Francis, he held the French and Scottish flag upon the highest point of Calais. The English had re-treat! Calais was now again, French.
"Long live the Stuart and Valois!" the men shouted. The danced and showed their prided to the world. They had taken back a city. The golden hair King laughed and chuckled as his men cheered. He had done it. He - King Francis II de Valois, Duke of Brittany had made history. He stabbed the flags onto the ground. He watched the people of the city bow at his feet.
He had finally won.
"Your grace," called one of his generals, "A messenger."
He pointed to the boy.
"Yes," he called, "What is it?"
"Your grace," he said bowing to Francis, "Her majesty, the Queen, went to labor. The physician had reported she has lost a lot of blood and that the child in her has not quicken. He asks if your grace would come to the main tent outside of Calais to decided the fate of the Queen."
Francis looked at him.
"Are you certain?" he asked.
"Yes, your grace." the messenger said.
"When did this happen? At what message time were you sent?"
"Early morning your grace, but I was not allowed to battle till it was won."
"Early morning!" he shouted, "And its near night!"
He turned his horse west and galloped with great speed. He knew that anything could had happen to his Mary and to their child. He couldn't imagine what would happen if he had lost both of them. He could not think about it. He loved Mary the moment she came to live in the castle. He loved her.
"Mary!" he shouted, running into the tent. He searched around, finding his wife on the makeshift bed. He smiled.
"You have a daughter," she announced.
Francis cried as Lola brought the tiny infant to his arms. He walked to Mary with their daughter in his arms. He looked at the little lad, with red dark hair and blue eyes. She looked like Mary, but it was the blue eyes she carried that reminded Francis of himself.
"I'm sorry I did not give you a son." said Mary, "The physicians said that this would be the last one. I would not be able too-"
"No." said Francis, "The Lord had blessed us with a daughter, and she will be Queen of both nations."
Mary cried as she watched her King and daughter.
"The Salic rule can be removed," said Francis, "I will order it by her christening so she will be named Queen when both of us were to pass. She is our daughter. She will be ruler one day."
Mary nodded, as Francis kissed her over and over again, reassuring her that their daughter was a blessing not a curse. Mary hoped for a son that would give peace of both nations. It was hard to rule as Queen of your own right. She knew it. She knew every choice her daughter made will put the lives of two nations at risk. She did not want her daughter to lose her head, her nation and her life. She wanted more for her. She wanted a better life. Being King was much easier than being Queen. Francis agreed. Queens could easily lose their power. Kings did not.
Mary leaned against Francis as she looked at their daughter. She was tiny- but perfect. She was to be the hope of the future.
"We will call her Victoria Anne Stuart Valois, Dauphine of France, Great Steward and Princess of Scotland" said Francis,"The future Queen of Scotland and France and we will treasure her as if she were a son."
"Be blessed my daughter" whispered Mary, as she kissed the little babe. "Long may she reign."