130 - Homebirth *Modern*

693 19 6
                                    

When Mary Valois-Angouléme, a multi millionaire in her own right, married into the billion dollar Valois-Angouléme dynasty, laying in a bloody bathtub and being unable to get out was not the way she envisions giving birth to her and Francis' first child. They had made reservations at the most elite, private hospitals in France, holding a placement for a week before their sons due date, and a week after it, in case the child came earlier or later than they expected. The baby, however, had other plans.

To make matters worse, the married couple, as well as their staff, were snowed in their estate due to the worst snowstorm in years. The snow was literally freaking sideways whenever Mary looked in the mirror. The wind was loud, the trees almost hunched over with the furiocity of the gale. It screeched past the windows with such furiocity that the dogs howled and the people cringed. All apart from one, however. Because that one was being held captive in a warm bubble bath, contractions becoming her chains in the warm china.

She hadn't expected the actual birth to happen so suddenly. Over a day of contractions with little results had given Francis the bright idea to run a bath to try and ease the pain his wife was going through. He, of course, had been frantically rushing about, having little to no experience with childbirth -even though the man had nine younger siblings- whilst Mary laboured. The phone lines were cut because of the snow storm, driving was completley out of the question, so it was up to the terrified blonde to assist his wife through their first childbirth. And that was a terrifying prospect in itself.

Mary knew the mechanics of giving birth, of course, Catherine had drilled it into her as the pregnancy grew into its final month, but she really hadn't expected the child to come out that fast. Twenty seven hours of labor after a movie-style dramatic water breaking -which had sent Francis into frantic gittering and running about- and an hour in the bathtub, for the child to decide that he wanted out of his mothers' body right that moment.

The heir of the Valois-Angoulême Dynasty, and ruling consort of the Stuart dynasty, had thought that Mary's cries of pain during the labor had been ear ringing. Well, he had another thing coming when the child started to rapidly decent into her body. Mary's cries of pain had reached a whole other frequency, having to rely on her body's instincts since her husband was not helping. The only thing he did with any logic at all was grabbing the newborn child as he slid out of Mary's body, and that was saying something. She didn't miss the way his body swayed perilously as the child began wailing. Granted the bathroom looked like a murder scene, but come on.

"Oh," Mary croaks, taking the tiny human into her arms. He was so tiny and wrinkled, beginning to scream in anger. "Hello, baby." she begins to cry with him, the relief of having a safe, healthy babe in the midst of so much unrest so glorious. Mary hadn't known if he was okay in her womb, they had no equipment and no way to tell of his heartbeat still wooshed healthily, and the labor had been so long after the water broke and all. "Shh, it's alright. It's okay, mama's got you." she cooes, stroking wet hair as it lay upon her breast. The baby begins to settle. And Francis begins to wobble on his knees next to her.

"Don't you dare pass out on me, I'm the one that just had to push a human out of me." she reminds him, flicking his jaw for good measure. He snorts.

"I'm overwhelmed!" the blonde is quick to defend his pride, looking deeply at the baby that lay upon his wife's chest. 

"What time is it?" she asks quietly, noticing the bathwater had turned from its clear state into a deep red. She hadn't expected a water birth, but it seemed perfect now that the child was laying on her chest. Mary hadn't been expecting to have her husband play midwife, to push the life out into his hands that were immersed in the warm water.

Francis checks his phone. "Ten twenty seven." he says. "Christmas Eve."

"Oh, my Christmas baby." Mary cooes lovingly, looking down at her son. "Our little boy, Francis." she smiles happily. Now she does the maths, the baby was only four days early. Huh.

"I know," he kisses them. "It's so surreal." he smiles, tears lining his eyes now. She smiles, leaning her head on his shoulder, not caring about how she got his shirt wet. "Our little family, Mary."

"James," she whispers the childs' name. "he looks like you." she says quietly, noticing the child opening his eyes for the first time. Blue eyes. The baby's hair had begun to dry, a damp blonde.

"He's so perfect. Hi, little man." he says, placing his hand over the childs'. James is so small. The newborn blinks at his father, burrowing his head into Mary's breast. "He must be hungry."

"Already obsessed with my breasts, just like his father." Mary cheekily says. Francis snorts, pushing Mary's dark hair from her shoulder and neck as the child latches on strongly, suckling frantically. Mary lets out a gasp.

"Does it hurt?" Francis' knees begin to ache from the two hours kneeling on the hard, cold floor.

"It's wierd." she says honestly. "The labor hurt like a bitch though."

"Don't swear in front of our son." he chastises. "And no painkillers at all as a small human comes out of you. What a warrior." he praises. Mary giggles and blushes.

"Thank you." she says, running her fingers over James' back as he continues to suckle from her.

"Let's wait until he's done, then get you two out of this bloody water, should we?" Francis asks her softly. Mary shakes her head.

"I need you to cut the chord first, make sure it doesn't rip as we get out." she says. He nods, getting up. 

"What should I get?"

She shrugs. "Shoelace? And a knife."

He comes back, tears leaving his eyes as he severs the physical chord between mother and child, adrenaline making them both weightless as he picks both his wife and child up from the bathtub, carrying them to the bed.

Mary sighs, exhausted. Her eyes close as Francis takes the baby and begins to dry the child off, helping her do the same. He yelps in surprise as the afterbirth slides out, jumping away from it. Mary scoffs and rolls her eyes with a smile.

"It's not an alien, idiot." she shakes her head fondly. "Shouldn't we tell people that he's here? Get him checked out by a doctor?"

"On it." he rushes out of the room again. Mary smiles fondly, taking her baby from the bed. Mary holds him tenderly, smiling as he took his mothers' finger into his tiny little fist.

"I love you, little one. So much."

~~

I've been writing some dark Frary recently, so I needed a comedic lovey Frary scene. I've had a lot of inspiration about this AU, so I'm far from done with it. Do you guys like it, hate it? Let a girl know!

Also, it would mean a lot if you guys could head over to my newest oneshot The Winter Queen and show it some love :)

Spoiler for next one, dead Lola again.

Tu Es Ma LumièreWhere stories live. Discover now