Reign One-Shots

10. Scare

Again, I really need some good ideas to write. It's a crappy one-shot, I wasn't planning on posting this. I wrote it past midnight and I've got 3 huge tests tomorrow morning.

Mary sucked in sharply, her hand going to her abdomen immediately as she felt a sharp pain.

"Mary, what is it?" Francis asked, brow furrowed in concern.

"Francis help me to our chambers and get someone to fetch Nostradamus, quickly. I think something is happening with the baby, I might be losing it." Mary chose to be selfish for once, wanting her husband by her side if the worst came to fruition.

Francis had a panicked look in his eyes as he tried his best to stay calm for all three of them.

"Conde! Get Nostradamus and send him to the queens and my chambers, quickly." The king called out, seeing the prince approaching from afar. Louis of Conde quickly rushed off to do as told, casting a worried look in the direction of the reigning royals.

"It hurts, Francis. I'm scared." Mary admitted, wincing again in pain.

"It'll be alright." Francis scooped Mary into his arms bridal style as she continued to wince in pain. It was a curious sight, the king of France hurrying towards the castle with his queen in his arms. Nostradamus was also seen to sprint towards the royal chambers, ordering the servants to bring tonics and tools.

"Nostradamus, thank goodness you're here. Mary's bleeding, what's happening?" The king turned to face Nostradamus who had just walked through the doors.

"Loosen her corset and prop her legs up on three pillows each. Get warm water, cold water, cloths, and my tonics." Nostradamus ordered servants around speedily. He cleaned the blood from the apex of her thighs efficiently and quickly, looking at the queens womanhood without hesitation.

"It looks as if you haven't lost your child yet, but the next hours and days, maybe even weeks will be crucial. You must have complete bed rest, only get up for the chamber pot. There is to be no distressing the queen, none whatsoever. This bleeding was most likely caused by the stress of the christening." Nostradamus stated, "You must not bother the queen with needless political matters that could cause her worry. No strenuous activity, and that includes martial activities too." Nostradamus and the servants left their chambers with the crisis averted - at least for now.

"Of course, we're just glad our baby is still alive." The two said, sighing in relief when they heard Mary had not miscarried the babe. Mary couldn't help but wonder if she hadn't be selfish, if she had just endured the pain for the bastard child. Her own precious prince or princess she carried within her womb could've died if she had made a different choice.

"I'm sorry for ruining Jeans baptism and christening, Francis. It wasn't my intention." Mary felt remorseful for absolutely no reason, she knew if she hadn't gotten Nostradamus there when she did she wouldn't have a heir.

"Don't apologize Mary. Don't stress yourself, I'll take care of our countries for us. You need to rest for the child now. Do you want me to stay here or leave?" Francis asked.

"Lay down with me now, I just need to feel your touch, you." Mary begged desperately. Francis obeyed without a sound, laying in front of Mary. Her delicate hands stroking his silky golden locks - comforting both of them. Francis turned to face his wife, staring into her eyes with love and passion.

"We can't do anything but cuddle right now, but I'll wait for you." Francis said.

"It's okay if you want a mistress while I am not able to fulfill your needs in my condition. I'd understand, kings always have mistresses." Mary said dejectedly, knowing she couldn't give her husband what he wanted .

"It's alright, I don't mind. I have hands too. I am not my father, I will never take a mistress, especially when you carry my heir, our heir." Francis tried to make Mary understand how valued and important she was.

"Thank you my love. Can you just cuddle me now?" Mary asked pleadingly.

"Of course!" Francis agreed with a little giggle, doing as the queen commanded.