a/n: Boy I cranked this out fast! Maybe I can finally get out of this writer's block! Depending on the response I get I might write a second part so let me know what you think! I've been wanting to write this alternate universe for a while and it's one of my favorite things I've written.
the title is from the song a love like this by kodaline which perfectly describes frary ;D
It's a sunny day in the small village in Scotland. Mary's worn dress flows behind her as she walks through the town, her hound at her heels. Mary waves to the people in the town, her smile warm and her steps light.
Everyone knows her; she is the daughter of the baker, their only daughter.
Mary is beautiful, innocent, and kind. Her parents hope for more, for her to be wed to someone of status. She wants none of it.
She is on her daily round of delivering bread to the bakeries customers when she meets him.
The blacksmith is a kind man, his checks are ruddy and his children always cling to Mary's legs when she drops off their bread. When she enters the hut in search of the blacksmith she is confused when she comes in contact with a different man, much younger and blond, doing the daily routine.
"Hello, um, I'm looking for the Blacksmith?" Mary asks curiously. The response she was given was a gentle sigh, one that sounded quite agitated. The man looked up from his work, his blond hair tousled and his blue eyes bright. He looks younger than she initially thought him to be.
His expression softens when he gazes upon her, and their eyes meet and she feels the tingles, the butterflies. The ones Greer so avidly tells her about whenever she spends time with Mary's father's apprentice, Leith.
Clearing his throat the young man sets down his tools coming out from behind the work bench. "Well, is his apprentice good enough for you?"
Mary laughs and teases good naturedly "But I don't even know your name do I?" He shrugs in response "That we can change easily, I am Francis, newcomer."
"A newcomer, we don't get many of those, it's really a surprise you aren't the gossip of the town." Mary ponders giving him a shining smile. Francis modestly shakes his head "I'm lying low."
Picking a stray thread away from her dress she murmurs "That's too bad, I was thinking I could show you around sometime." Francis took a step closer to her his eyes bright "I could use a guide at this festival, Alastair has been telling me about, and his daughters tell me how excited they are every day. Wouldn't want to navigate an important tradition alone." He amends.
Mary nods "Indeed. Come by the bakery at five after noon. We will go then. In the time until then feel free to visit me at the bakery anytime, and please give this bread to the blacksmith for me."
"No problem."
"It was a pleasure to meet you."
"Not as much of a pleasure as it was for me."
Two radiant smiles are exchanged and a strand of hope that will forever tangle the two of them together.
Beaming after her exchange with the blacksmith's apprentice, Francis, although the girly name said nothing for his appearance. With his crown of golden hair and sea deep blue eyes she wanted nothing more than to press her lips against his.
She was already sixteen, Greer was already prepared to wed Leith any day and Mary had never even been kissed!
His smile, his words, she wanted to melt. She skipped the whole way to the cobbler's in search for Greer.
Rushing through the door to the small shop she rushes to the counter of the store where a bored Greer sits shining a pair of black boots. Insistently she begins to yank on the blonde's arm squealing in excitement.
"What's the matter with you?" Greer demanded. Mary took a deep breath before she squealed "I'm going to the midsummer festival with the blacksmith's apprentice! His name is Francis and he has beautiful blue eyes and golden hair and there was something…." Mary sighs dreamily.
Greer looks at Mary wide-eyed shaking her shoulders "This is amazing Mary you've finally found you're prince!"
"I know" Mary smiles, jumping up and down excitedly with Greer. Maybe getting excited over a boy was silly, but how could she not?
She sees him every day she drops off bread to the blacksmith. He is always there, he gives her looks that make her want to melt and the two exchange conversations that sometimes are snarky like their first meeting, and sometimes full of understanding that she relives as she lays in bed at night.
Mary eagerly awaits the day of the midsummer festival. On the day it finally arrives her mother intricately braids her hair and she slides on her prettiest dress, a pair of delicate flats on her feet.
He arrives promptly at five and links his arm through hers as they walk into the square together.
"I have been excited for this all week." Mary concedes to him, blushing prettily. He takes her hand in his as he whispers in her ear "Me too. No one has ever enamored me the way you have."
Biting her lip she runs in front of him as they reach the square, taking his hand and pulling him behind her "Let's dance".
Francis blindly follows as she goes to the dance floor twirling to the music that is played nearby. Grabbing both of his hands in hers she twirls him with her, her skirt brushing against his calves. The sun is still a waning bright blue above them as they dance, and dance, and dance. Their eyes fixated on only one thing. Each other.
After the midsummer festival they officially begin courting each other, meeting daily for a nightly walk. It starts innocently enough, hand holding, and conversations that sometimes become intimate, like the fact that he lost his parents just before he moved to her village. But it is comfortable, but somehow passionate at the same time.
One day though those feelings they discuss are acted upon and his lips press for the first time against hers. It's perfect. It's her first kiss.
The next day she greets him with a kiss and says goodbye with another.
A week later his tongue enters her mouth and they lie down beside the river and spend some time in each other's embrace kissing and whispering to another.
This becomes a pattern in their daily routine quickly. More kisses, more talking, and every free moment is soon spent together.
Greer and Leith marry not long after Francis and Mary become attached together. The two attend their wedding, a small private ceremony and that's when Mary realizes what she wants.
She wants Francis. She loves Francis.
The two go to their spot by the river after the wedding reception. His arms wrapped around her from where he sits behind her.
Leaning against him Mary whispers "I love you."
She feels his smile against her neck when he whispers back "I love you too."
They get married the first day of autumn, in a ceremony that is small and lovely. They dance and dance and dance like the night they first fell for each other. At the end of the night Francis carries her to the small house that was built for the two lovers by Mary's father.
They spend their first night together as husband and wife. They've done things before, she's familiar with him, and he her, she knows well the feeling of his fingers, his tongue. His kisses are nothing new, but it seems invigorated. They whisper words of love to each other as he pushes in and out, when it ends the curl together and fall asleep, knowing there are many more nights to come.
In the morning he whispers against her stomach "I hope you're pregnant."
She is.
Her stomach expands quickly, as does Greer's, the two families share in the joy of their children being able to grow up together.
Sometimes she is moody and cries, the effects of pregnancy, but Francis is more than attentive. Especially when the only thing she craves is him, which is what she craves the most.
But it is Greer who gives birth first; it is a boy, her beautiful Mirren. Mary is there for her throughout the birth and cries with Leith and Greer when he is welcomed into the world.
She feels Francis' tears against her dress as well in that moment and that night as they lay naked together he whispers to Mary "I can't wait until we welcome her into this world."
She can't either.
The baby comes in summer; Mary's screams are heard throughout the town and Francis cling desperately to her hand, murmuring words of encouragement.
She tries desperately not to scream at him, but he is the reason that this baby is coming out of her.
But after a long labor they welcome their beautiful baby Annabel into the world. Francis is the first to hold her and he cries as he states to Mary "She is as beautiful as her mother, thank you Mary, for giving me your love, our beautiful child. You will always be my world."
Mary to sheds tears as she strokes Annabel's downy hair "Thank you for being mine."
Annabel is a handful, but wonderful and their bundle of joy. By the time Annabel turns one Mary is again pregnant. Francis and she rejoice, their family is growing.
Their beautiful family.
Her stomach is round when the French enter their small village. The town is silent as they enter the streets, the soldiers carry a white flag, but still Mary is surprised to see Francis to turn pale when he looks into the street, Annabel in his arms as she rubs her hands against his face.
"Mary, I should've told you." He mutters frantically, almost like a madman. Mary shakes her head "What is it?"
Francis turns to answer her when a knock is heard at their door. Francis appears to be frozen in shock and Mary goes to get it.
Pulling open the door she is greeted by a French solider, nervously she asks "Can I help you?" The soldier nods, "We are looking for Dauphin Francis, we believe him to live here."
Mary shakes her head in shock, the Dauphin of France has been missing for a long time and perceived dead, as the realization grips her she feels Francis' presence behind her as he answers tiredly "He is here."
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