When Mariposa de Valois-Angouleme was growing up, she'd always been fallen into the fantasizing side of life. While her beautiful blonde beau had been so black and white, seeing the world for what it was and what it was not, little Marie -christened Mary by her little friend, to stop the confusion between she and her mother- had always seen the world in various shades of grey, thinking of what the world could be and what it should be, rather than what it was. She'd always been a dreamer, a free spirit who cared for the world and all the fruit she provided. She and Kenna had always been the kinds of girls who would run around the moorlands and the rapeseed fields in lacy dresses barefooted, who refused to eat any kind of meat or dairy or wear leather or fur, believing in herbs and spirituality.
So, why would she change who she was when the time came for her to birth her first child?
She and her little blonde beau had grown up attached to the hip, from the ages of just born babies to nine year old children, they had lived right next door in her fathers' thirteen thousand acre ranch. It was a marvellous upbringing for the children of two of the most wealthiest families in Europe. However, Mary's father died when she was nine, and the visits halved in two, having to spend equal time in France and Scotland to maintain business relations. It was upsetting to be parted from the one they loved the most, but the children maintained their bond even though an ocean separates them. At eleven, things change between them both once again, the sparks of romance turning into waltzing embers for the following six years until life separates them both again at seventeen.
Meddling mothers break up the engagement, citing youth being an issue. But, is youth an issue when one waltzes into the arms of the others' cousin two years later, planting a kiss on her lips and a son in her womb? The girls' own family disowns her her entire pregnancy, reluctantly welcoming her back until the child is birthed and her rights are severed completley. She gets married to the first man who winks in her direction, and that appears to be that for the child.
Motherless for three years until Mariposa returns, a world of adventure and education in her head. She had made a life for herself overseas, brilliant connections in the world to keep her fathers' businesses running. Surprisingly not scared off by a little blonde boy with his mothers' eyes, the flames of love burn again between them both. A year later, the wedding bells ring. Little Jean-Phillipe beams the brightest he's ever beamed when the beautiful ravenette in a snow white ballgown announces her intention to become his fathers' wife. They sign the papers and create a perfect little family unit, the boy suggesting to his parents one night that he wishes to become Mariposa's son by all legal impediments. Francis is delighted, managing to fight off a returning Lola for custody, and Mary adopts the child in her seventh month of a miraculous pregnancy.
That's how they've gotten to where they are now. Mary being Mary and her homeopathic ways, she decides to birth her child in the security of her own home. It's important to both her and Francis to have tiny Jean-Philippe involved as much as possible in her pregnancy, and she thought it would be fitting to have him in the birthing room. Well, birthing basement, that's where the pool would fit without too much kerfuffle. It's dark with candlelight, they have a birthing photographer and music and incense and herbs and rose petals. It's beautiful and it's calm and it's serene and everything Mary had wanted for her birthing experience. He sits contentedly for hours as the contractions ravage Mary's body over and over and over, even sitting up closer when his brother slides out of his mothers' womb and into the warm water, caught by the midwife.
Jean weeps as James cries, Francis and Mary share a kiss, the tiny body of their first child together clutched safely upon his mothers' breast. His cries cease quickly, and Mary is taken out of the water, resting in her own bed, the child nourishing from her breast. Jean leans his head upon Mary's shoulder, watching his brother feed. His father smiles from a few inches away, silently thanking God for sending these blessings to him one way or another.
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Tu Es Ma Lumière
Historical Fiction~Reign AU/Collection of Oneshots~ The world can be dark, Mary, and uncertain and cruel. The only thing that matters is that we face it together. No matter what happens, you are my light ~Frary Oneshots/Taking Requests~ Book reached it's chapter limi...
