Replies to reviews:

elder441 [chapter 5]: You are very welcome! :)

Guest (1) [chapter 5]: Haha, here's the next chapter and we've made it to the time everyone has been waiting for ;)

Guest (2) [chapter 5]: Awh, thank you so much! I was always nervous when doing a Frary story because I didn't know whether to base it off on the show, etc. And after he died, well, I was mourning for the character haha. I took the plunge and I am so glad you are all loving it. I am aiming to do a chapter a day. You're very welcome :)

Alright, here is the awaited arrival of their first child :) (As stated in previous chapters, time jumps will be made.) Sorry for the shortness, I wanted to get something up for you.

At nine months gone, it was time.

Mary was frightened. Terrified. Nervous. Angry. Upset.

Her feelings were confusing and she felt them in waves of spells; anger, sadness, anxiety then other emotions she could not even put her finger on.

All she knew was that the midwife was not the first person she wanted in the chamber, desperately seeking for her husband who stood vigilant outside.

She could not even hear his words of consolation and encouragement. Men were not allowed during childbirth and she had good reason to have that rule turned.

"Bring. Me. Francis," she gritted out through her teeth, swatting away a hand dabbing at her forehead.

"Y-Your Majesty, but that is not-"

"I allow it. I want it. I need it. For the love of all that is good and true, bring my husband to me!" Mary cried out before letting out a painful groan, pressing a hand against her bump.

The midwife shared a nervous glance at the handmaiden's way, before giving her a firm nod. She watched as the handmaiden performed her duty, quickly seeking for the king and returning to her side.

"F-Francis?" Mary whispered, her eyes searching for her husband. She soon felt a hand brush her hair back and a kiss on her forehead. "You came."

"You did demand for me to be brought inside," he teased lightly. "Mary, you can do-"

"I can't," she cut him off, sobbing.

Ugly, wet tears slipped down her cheeks. She could barely see her husband, only the outline of blonde through the water.

"It hurts too much... I was never prepared for this!" She cried out, leaning into his chest.

"Are women ever prepared?" Francis asked her, massaging her head. "I know why you are scared."

She sniffled, wiping her nose. "If anything happens to me..." She trailed off, unsure. She looked very unqueenly. Her nose running, her hair a wet mess, her face as red as tomatoes. "Look after our child and do not mourn me. We have had more than enough time for our love-"

"Mary, nothing will happen to-"

He was cut off by his wife crying out in pain, the midwife sending him a desperate look. If he was staying, he would have to help and coax his wife throughout the childbirth.

"Mary, it's time," he said, kissing her head and cupping her cheeks so they were face to face. "Push as hard as you have got. Soon, our child will be in our arms and we will be the family we've dreamed of."

She nodded before a strangled yell came out her lips. She pushed as hard as she could, squeezing Francis's hand.

"You did this to me," she said to him after her third push. "You. Did. This."

"Yes, I did," Francis admitted, grinning proudly.

"You take pleasure?" Mary asked, almost laughing but the pain became unbearable as she let out a moan. "I-I can't..."

The midwife cleared her throat. "Rest, Your Majesty. Savour your strength, we will start again soon."

Mary nodded, accepting the shortlived rest as she hit her husband on his arm. "You are proud of putting me through this?"

"I am proud for putting you through this to get to the end result," he replied. "A child of our own, Mary."

Mary let out a breathy laugh, tears watering her eyes. "Our blonde, blue-eyed Button?"

"Or our brunette, brown-eyed Button," he replied, kissing her lips.

"It is time," the midwife cut into their conversation. "Your little baby will make an appearance very soon..."

...

Marie Anne Valois-Angouleme-Stuart.

What a terrifying ordeal, Mary thought as she cradled her child in her arms. The ending was certainly worth the sobs, the screams, the bones breaking and everything alongside events that took place during childbirth.

"Hello, my Button..." Mary whispered, staring into the child's blue eyes. She ran her fingers through her hazel locks, a bright smile on her face. "My little Anne... Anne, her mother's little Button." She looked up at Francis. "I am not making any sense, am I?"

He chuckled, shaking his head. "No, but it is sweet." He sighed. "I wish we could stay just like this, but my mother has already set up the formal introduction for her."

"Francis..."

"I know. I am sorry, but the sooner we do this, the better. Everyone needs to meet their new princess," he replied.

Mary scowled but placed a loving kiss on Anne's forehead. Although she had wanted a son, she adored her daughter very much and she was not willing to let the child go so soon.

Anne looked like a mixture of them, her eyes faring Francis's and her hair like many other relatives of both families.

"At least we can decide when to hold her christening," Francis added.

"Fine," Mary finally said. "Allow me to get ready. As soon as I am done, we will show our daughter to France."

That night as Anne slept in her cot beside her parents' bed, Mary not quite willing to allow her daughter more than a metre away from her, Mary wrote in her diary.

She had not kept one in a long time and she wrote of how overjoyed she was to welcome the new life into the world.

Before, she had written to Kenna and Lola, telling them of her happy news. She had also spoken with Francis on the subject of godparents, deciding Kenna and Bash would be wonderful godparents as the birth of their first child was coming up as well.

'17 June. Our precious Button screamed her first wail in her father's arms as she came into the world. A baby of red in colour and lungs so strong, she would probably have the voice of angels. My Francis is already smitten, preferring to talk to her. Although, I do the same at times. Our little Marie Anne Valois-Angouleme-Stuart. It was no issue having my name after her father's. She is France's first, but she will always be Scotland's first. I wonder how the first night would be. The wet nurses are prepared, but I would love to give it a try. Feeding cannot be as difficult as it looks, I hope. Adieu, Mary.'

"What are you doing?" Francis asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.

Mary turned her head to look at him. "Writing a little bit about our Anne. Our Button."

"She does have a button nose, doesn't she?" Francis said lightly, turning his head to look at their sleeping newborn. "She is perfect, Mary. You have made me happy in so many ways. You are beautiful, strong, perfect, caring..."

"Francis..." Mary whispered, her tears returning for what could have been the millionth time that day. "I am not. Not in the slightest and-"

"My wife. My wife," Francis breathed out in disbelief. "After everything, I have been blessed to call you my wife. Before God, France and Scotland, my wife. And now, you have given me my daughter. I love you so much, Mary."

She leant her back into his chest. "I love you so much, too, Francis," she easily replied, smiling when he kissed the back of her neck. "I can't wait to have you take me again."

"We might be lucky in our first attempt after your rest," Francis said hopefully. "Having children close in age will be very healthy for them and us."

She laughed. "Watch yourself, Francis! I have just given birth and you talk of a second child already?"

"Mary..." He whined.

"Francis," she mocked, reaching a hand behind her to grip onto his curls. "But yes, I can't wait until we have another child."

She hoped for a son this time. Even though it was not visible, people were doubting her of her efforts to produce a male heir. They would chastise her, Catherine certainly did.

False hope.

Francis had not minded, adoring the idea of a daughter, but his wife did.

And it kept her awake when they went to bed shortly after. Her daughter was not a son, but she was loved dearly.

Her daughter will someday be someone's wife, but she was loved dearly.

Her daughter's life was under threat, but she...

She was loved so very dearly, Mary would lay her life for her.