This is my first fanfic ever, so I would have to ask for as much feedback as possible, constructive criticism is definitely welcome.
This story is "post Braveheart" (I cannot promise historical accuracy at this point, but it should prove to be entertaining).
Chapter One:
"Your Highness, may I present your son, Prince William," the portly and very sweaty midwife sighed. She did not want to bring the prince to his "father", let alone help in the naming of the bouncing blue eyed, dark haired angel. Her beloved Queen's gossiping hand maiden told her the secret behind William's birth, a secret she would have rather died than known. 'I will be dead at his feet with this beautiful new life in her arms, then the pansy king will kill him' she thought, awaiting his response. As most men who know that the child of their wife is a bastard; the king gave the child a once over and remarked,
"This child will be a disappointment, I can tell already. Take him back to his mother and tell her to meet me in the royal chambers as soon as she can."
"Your Highness, the Queen should be on bed rest, it was a very difficult birthing for her. You have a fighter for a son," the poor shaking woman replied.
"My order stands, you stupid wench, now go get your Queen or face my wrath!" the king shouted.
"Yes your Highness," the midwife groveled. "Face your wrath, ha! You have about as much wrath as this newborn, probably less," she muttered as she hurried to tell her Queen of the King's wishes. "Stupid man would not know what to do with the Queen even if he did have wrath. She would overpower him within moments, even in her weakened state. Poor dear, having to put up with that idiot of a faggot king. If only she could have escaped with that William Wallace, he would have made a fine king, common as he was. Better than this Robert the Bruce, who has lost his backbone, even in light of Longshank's death," she confessed to her bundle. She looked around guiltily as she entered her lady's birthing room, hoping no one but this little man could hear her.
"My Lady, the King wishes your audience in the royal chambers, as soon as you can be presentable," the frazzled woman whispered to her poor, tired Queen.
"(Curse in French)!" the Queen exclaimed. "Does he not care for my well being, silly question, of course he does not. He would rather see my child and me dead than in his court. Midwife Janelle, please, help me up, I will respect the King's wishes and show him I am stronger than he thinks. Oh, did he say anything about the child?"
"Yes my Lady, the king did make a remark about the prince," Janelle cringed as she hoped the queen would not ask what hurtful words the weasel king said.
"Well, out with it, what did my wretched husband say?" the queen persisted.
"Um, well, the King said 'this child will be a disappointment' verbatim, your highness," the quivering midwife braced for a blow to the head, but was pleasantly surprised when instead she heard:
"(Curse in French)! We will see who will be the disappointment in this land, in this House! Fetch me my cleansing basin and a dress, now! I refuse to let that horrid man believe that I am weak, for he shall know my wr…" the queen trailed off as she fell to the floor, dizzy with rage. As her maidens attended to her, her new son was quiet, strangely quiet for such a small thing with so much commotion surrounding him. 'He is strong and will rule this land as a true king should' Janelle thought. 'Let that fairy king believe he is in power, you, my sweet prince, will prove him false.'