AN: AU story to Away In A Manger in belated Honour of Christmas. Queen Mary's first phantom Pregnancy wasn't a Phantom Pregnancy at all... set in 1555. Happy New Year and Enjoy!

Away in a manger
No crib for His bed
The little Lord Jesus
Lay down His sweet head
The stars in the sky
Look down where He lay
The little Lord Jesus
Asleep on the hay

Queen Mary couldn't stop gazing at the precious children in her arms. They were hers. Hers and hers alone. She'd done it. She'd proved all her critics wrong; all those who'd said she was too old to have a child; that she was wrong to marry a Spaniard; that she should have been content to leave her throne to her heretic bastard of a sister. Well, she hadn't been. Elizabeth was a heretic. She'd only have undone all of their good works and turned England back towards those benighted days when children died unbaptised, marriages weren't holy and all the populace suffered under a dark cloud, unable even to have the consolation of knowing that their faith was the True one.

And now she didn't have to leave her throne to Elizabeth. The babes in her arms made sure of that. True, they were a little small, but that was only because there were three of them. And they'd soon grow strong on her milk, for she would feed them herself. Nothing would be good enough for these three but the milk of God's anointed Queen.

Triplets. Princess Katherine, Princess Grace and the most beloved of them all, Prince Isaiah. Isaiah, for just as the first Isaiah had proclaimed the Coming of the Messiah, so would her little boy ensure the continuation of God's true Church in England.

Triplets. Now, if that wasn't a sign that God was smiling on her reign and her plans to re-establish the True Faith in her kingdom, then surely nothing else was.

The cattle are lowing
The baby wakes
But little Lord Jesus
No crying He makes
I love Thee, Lord Jesus
Look down from the sky
And stay by my side
'Til morning is nigh

The children were asleep, but as though he could sense her thoughts, Isaiah's sleepy eyes suddenly flickered open and he gazed up at her serenely. Mary held her breath – if he started crying, he'd wake his sisters and Queen though she was, she couldn't deal with three crying babies at once. But he didn't start crying. Instead, he just blinked at her slowly.

Unable to help herself, Mary had to fight back tears as she bent to kiss his tiny forehead.

"Do you know how loved you are, Isaiah, my darling? I doubt you do. I doubt there's ever been a mother who loves her son as much as I love you. But you've made everything perfect. Everything. Elizabeth will have no choice but to yield to me now. She'll have to accept that she'll never be Queen; that she'll be lucky to marry the Duke of Savoy. If she accepts it graciously, then I'll bestow a title on her in her own right. She can be Countess of Nottingham, the same way my half-brother was Earl of Richmond when we were children. I might even let her have her mother's old title of Marquess of Pembroke. If she swears to uphold my rights and yours above her own. If she converts to Catholicism and accepts her own bastard status, the way I had to accept mine at her age. And your father will like it. I know he likes her, as any man would like a sister as vivacious as she. For your father will have to come back to England. War or no war, you are his son, Isaiah and he will have to come and see you. And me. He'll have to come and see us. So yes, you've made everything perfect. Everything."

Be near me, Lord Jesus
I ask Thee to stay
Close by me forever
And love me, I pray
Bless all the dear children
In Thy tender care
And take us to Heaven
To live with Thee there

Laying Isaiah gently in the bassinet beside her great bed of State, Mary picked up her daughters and transferred them to their own beds, rocking them gently as they whimpered at the movement. Soothed by her warmth, they soon sank back into the deep oblivion of sleep.

Clasping her hands, Mary offered up the most fervent prayer of her life. "Thank you Lord, for these wonderful blessings which will bring me nothing but joy and peace for the rest of my days. Help me to make England ready to accept my son, Your gift to me, as her King. May You keep your Merciful hand over my children, for they are also Your children. May I be the mother worthy of having such gifts in her life. I Bless You, Lord, all the days of my life, in the name of my namesake, Your Virgin Queen and of Your Son, Our Saviour Jesus Christ."

Then she fell back on to the soft swansdown pillows and had soon joined her children in their blissful rest, a contented smile gracing her worn features.