A/N: Here it is! The last chapter! Thank you all so much for reading and reviewing! It means the world to me! This is the first longer piece I've finished so it means a lot that so many of you enjoyed it! Without further ado, an epilogue that I think you'll all enjoy!

Chapter 20

"I still can't believe it," Mary whispered, smiling down at the little boy in her arms.

Francis sat behind Mary, her back on his chest and his arms wrapped around her, gently stroking the cheek of his newborn baby, "I know. It feels like a dream."

Mary's knees were pulled up and their son rested on them. Since he had been placed in her arms, her eyes hadn't left him and the smile hadn't left her face. "If it is, I never want to wake up."

Francis placed a kiss on the side of her head, "You've done amazing, my love. He is beautiful."

"We still need a name," Mary softly spoke. "We can't just call him he and baby boy for the rest of his life."

"Wait, you don't think everyone will like Prince baby boy Stuart-Valois, Prince of Scotland and France?" Francis chuckled.

"I don't think so," Mary reached up and stroked his cheek.

Francis smirked at her and quickly captured her lips, "James," he whispered after breaking apart.

"What?" Mary's eyes fluttered open and she gave him a confused smile.

"That's what we should call him, James Henry Stuart-Valois."

"James Henry," she looked down at her son, "I think your papa chose a great name, don't you James?"

The sleeping child stretched a little and settled back in.

"I think he loves it," Francis stated.

A soft knock on the door made the new parents' head snap up.

"Enter," Francis called, trying to keep his voice hushed to not wake up James.

Catherine entered, opening and closing the door slowly to not make noise. She quietly crept over to the bed to the smiling faces of her son and daughter-in-law. She peered down at her grandson and cooed, "He's beautiful. Congratulations."

"Thank you, mother."

"And you my dear," Catherine petted Mary's hair, "You've done so well. Childbirth is no easy feat and you've braved it like no other and still look beautiful."

"Thank you Catherine," Mary genuinely smiled up at her mother-in-law. "Would you like to hold him?"

"Please," Catherine nearly sobbed in happiness. Mary carefully passed her son to Catherine. Her eyes stayed on James, reluctant to let him out of her sight. "What's his name?"

"James Henry," Francis supplied, "Future King of France, Scotland, and possibly England."

"Oh enough with the possibly, he will be King of England," Catherine rocked him in her arms, "You, my lovely grandchild, will be King of half of Europe and will be loved by all."

Mary rested her head back on Francis's shoulder, exhaustion from giving birth slowly taking over. She closed her eyes and let the voices of Francis and Catherine lull her to sleep.

"How does it feel to be a father?" Catherine asked her son in a hushed tone.

"Mother, I've said this before," he chastised.

"I know, I know, you already are a father, but Francis, this is different. This is your son. You can claim him and give him the title of Prince and future King. You can't do that with Jean." Catherine paused to watch James scrunch up his nose. "And this child, this one you've gotten to see grow and prepare for. You and Mary have been able to share in the joy of bring new life into the world. This child came from your love of your wife. That is something special. Yes, you will love Jean, but not like you will love James."

"I suppose you're right," Francis looked at Mary, her lips were slightly parted and he felt her even breaths on his neck. "I didn't feel quite like this with Jean."

"Despite everything," Catherine sighed, "despite all that I've done against you and Mary and everything. I always have loved you and tried to do the best for you. It may not have ended up always being the best for you, but I did it out of love."

"I know, mother," he gave a sad smile, "I know."

"Yes, but, now I see that all you need is her," she nodded at Mary, "and him." Her gaze held on the sleeping child in her arms. "If you were the poorest man in the world, but you had them, you would still be happy."

"I would," Francis agreed, pulling the blanket up to cover Mary more. "They're all I need."

"I want to promise you something, Francis," Catherine didn't look up from James. "I will treat Mary like I should have been all along since she came back to us from convent. She will no longer be an outsider, she will be treated as a daughter."

"Thank you mother, truly, thank you," he started tearing up, the lack of sleep from waiting on news of Mary and the baby combined with her touching words, getting to him.

"And," she continued, "It will no longer be a competition of me verse you and her, I will be, like a mother should, on your side, always."

Francis wiped a tear away and smiled at his mother. He knew that she could just be all talk and no action, but sincerity in her tone and eyes made him believe she truly meant it. His son brought him and Mary more than just a true family and an heir, he'd brought him peace with his mother.

"Here," Catherine handed James to Francis, "I should go, Mary's ladies have been waiting to meet our Prince as well as your siblings. I'll send for them."

"Could you wait a couple minutes before you send for them?" Francis asked as he watched his son. "I want to give Mary a few more minutes of sleep.

"Of course," Catherine walked forward and kissed Francis on the head. She whispered, "I am so proud of you," and silently left.

Francis rocked his son back and forth, sitting down on a chair next to the bed. He watched as James's eyes slowly drift shut. His chubby cheeks were rosy and every once in a while his nose would scrunch up. The fact that his little boy was in his arms amazed Francis.

"Hello James," Francis whispered to his son. "I'm your father. I've been waiting a long time to meet you. You've been in your mother stomach and we've watched you grown inside her, just waiting for you to arrive. You have no idea how much you mean to us. We've waited so long for you. You are and will always be so loved by your mother and I." Francis didn't notice Mary's eyes slowly open and watch him as he talked to their son. "You also are loved by your Uncles, Charles, Bash, and Leith, and your Aunts, Claude, Lola, and Greer. And extremely loved by your grandmother. Besides for your mother and I, I think no one loves you more than your grandmother.

"You are a prince of Scotland and France, and will be King one day. We will do our best to prepare you for this. And maybe you'll also be King of England. But always remember that there's more to life than power. There's love and friendship and happiness. You can't get those things by solely using the power you are gifted from God. But if you remember nothing else, just remember your mother and I love you more than words can say."

"And I love you, my dear," the corner of Mary's mouth turned upward.

"I love you too," Francis stood and placed a kiss on Mary's lips. "I think we've done a good job with this one," he nodded at the baby in his arms.

"What would you say to another one?" Mary asked him, cooing over seeing her love with their son.

"I would love another one."

"We'll have to wait a little for my body to recover, but as soon as we can."

"As soon as we can," he promised.