"Mmm." the Queen of France moans, her body shifting on the mesh of capes and crumpled leaves. Her back arches out in an attempt to gain comfort after a passionate attack from her husband, her entire body so stiff from the first time he had touched her in so long. But, her body tingles from the pleasure even now, and it brings a smile to her face. The air is warm, the scent of the leaves and the trees and the pond so fresh and sweet that it's so lovely. She loathes to move, but the moments sine she came back to earth are too much to bare without seeing the beautiful face of her healthy, virile husband.
Her eyes flutter open. She sees him so close to her, he's on his knees, struggling to tie up the hems of his shirt sleeves. The local on his face brings a giggle to her lips, and the slight noise makes him look down at her. She smiles as he returns it, before leaning down to kiss her. Her fingers tangle in his hair and she sighs with a joy so pure that it warm her heart. It's fit to burst with all the happiness and the pleasure she's felt since Francis recovered from his sickness. He pulls back and bumps their noses together, a gesture that's so intimate and so them.
"Take a while until you see Matthiel." she says softly as he pulls back completley, her hand still in his hair. The hairdresser that served the royal family had an awful habit of cutting Francis' beautiful blonde hair too short for her liking. "Your hair is so long when it's wet, I like it like this length. The curls sit better, it's so soft." she says. He grins at her boyishly.
"If it pleases you, I'll not see him for a year." he says. Mary beams at him, leaning up to steal another kiss. He sighs into her mouth, bounding his arms around her waist to hold her close. Their bodies press together so perfectly, and considering hers is bare at this current moment, they fit with an impossible correlation that can be explained by no earthly cause. Her body aches, and by God, she wants. But she doesn't know how long it's been since they left the entourage at the road, and they must return to them so not to cause worry for their safety.
Mary pulls away reluctantly, making her husband pout. She smiles at his boyishness, enjoying so much the carelessness they both have at this moment. Burdens of politics and royalty seem like a daydream at this moment. Alas, they must come back to reality, at least a little bit. "Come, we mustn't start all that up again. The guards'll be wondering where we got to."
"I have a feeling they'll know exactly where we got to, and what we were doing." he sends a scandalous glance down at her bare breast. Mary giggles, the time for self consciousness around him is a year and a half past. "However, your words hold weight." he gets up and goes to search for that blasted corset she hated wearing.
Mary stands and quickly pulls up her underthings, turning so her husband can help her tie up the boned structure that society deemed appropriate to wear. No matter how much Mary hated wearing that bloody thing. He does it with an ease that's so smooth that surprises her. She smiles at the delicate care he treats her with. She loves him so much that it hurts. Soon, he helps her pull on her bodice. She can take care of it, wilst he searches for her shoes and gems.
"Is your head feeling better?" she asks. "You've been saying that it was hurting you."
"It's fine, my love. I'll have a tonic prepared if it increases." he says, getting up from his knees with her shoes. By God, the King of France, kneels before her to put on her shoes for her.
"I could get used to this," Mary grins. He smiles cheekily at her.
"I'll pamper you so much that you'll get sick of me."
"I doubt that's possible. Think of it, one of the most powerful men in the world waiting on me hand, foot and finger. It sounds quite nice."
He sneers jokingly, stealing a kiss as he places the crown on her head. She threads the earrings through, passing him his jacket as she sweeps her cloak around her shoulders.
"Shall we?"
"Not just yet." the King says, pulling his beautiful ravenette Queen towards him once more. The King presses a deep kiss unto her lips and she cannot help herself. It's the most familiar kiss they've ever shared. It's like they can taste the rest of their lives in each other's lips in this moment, and they smile unto each other.
"Ready for Paris, my love?" the King asks, pulling back for a moment.
"Not quite." she says, pulling him back to her. The words, the kiss, they're sweeter than anything she's ever felt before.
/
Better. Much better.
Has anybody else ever wondered how the hell Mary got the corset on without Francis to help her, seeing as though he was sleeping? And Francis' hair, in s1, it was always longer and the curls were looser, but in s3, it was much shorter -so much so you could see his ears, which you couldn't do much in s1- and the curls much tighter. Maybe I'm just nit picking, but it always really bothered me.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the 4 rewrites for this episode! I might do more in the future if given the prompt, but so far, that's it! Also, as I'm writing, this website is glitching massively, so if there's a letter missing or a word or something doesn't make sense, that's why.
Next one's based in 2x04 and has Francis angry at Lola!
love
me
:)
