Tu Es Ma Lumière

172 - Announcement

Side Note - this website is kinda glitching as I'm writing this, so if there's any words missing or something doesn't make a lot of sense, that's why.

/

"Mama?" the small Baron de Velay asked, slowly ceasing his steps in his newest sisters' nursery. He bites his lower lip nervously, watching as the newly crowned Queen of England looks up from her newly born daughters' head as the child nurses. Dark golden eyes meet a dark blue, and she observes him briefly. A calm, serene smile graces her face as the looks upon the child who stands in dark blue and blacks. The four year old boy remembers to bow as his grandmother taught him to do, before walking another few steps.

"Jean-Philippe," Mary's voice is soft, she gives her step and Godson a slight smile, and reaches out a hand towards the child. She's dressed for comfort this late Autumnal night. Dark blue chiffon and satin tulle skirts, gold accents floating all over the sleeves, hems and slight train. Her hair is long and loose, she wears no makeup and no jewels apart from a small, floral crown that wraps around her head, and the new gold signet ring she wears. The child's eyes draw to the ring. It's large and grandeur, it sparkles with diamonds and gems, as well as the royal seal that unites an empire. 

It's the first time Jean-Philippe has seen his stepmother in the better part of six months. The war with Queen Elizabeth had taken both his parents away for a time. With King Philip ambushing to the south of England with France at his side, Scotland attacking from the northern borders, Elizabeth had held her hands up in defeat. She abdicated in favour of the King and Queen of France and Scotland, and now resided comfortably in captivity in France, Lord Dudley at her side. They had been stripped of all titles, living a pretty, quiet life in the moors of the alps. Not only the war, but Mary's childbearing months would have taken her away nonetheless. The only woman Jean-Philippe had ever known as his mother, for his own had been shipped away just after his christening in her role in the near loss of the Dauphin when he still resided in the Queen's womb, had returned, however. She brought with her his father and a new sister that had been born in England after the two of them had the throne. The fourth child in as many years, even Queen Catherine was pleasantly surprised by her daughter-in-law's virility.

 "Come, child." she says kindly, motherly, and the little boy obeys her command. He hops up at her side, watching the little girl with light hair suckle at her mothers' breast. "I have missed you, little Jean." she says.

"Missed you, mama." he says, wrapping his arms around Mary's neck. She smiles at the child, planting a kiss onto his head as the little boy pulls away.

"Your father wanted me to tell you something, something that will affect you." she begins, adjusting herself to look at the boy who sat close to her.

"Oh?"

"Yes," she says. "you are aware that you didn't grow inside my womb, as this baby did, as your brothers and sister did?" the Queen asks him. Jean nods slowly, he'd always known that. Courtiers and their children often jeered him for the lack of the Queen's blood in his veins. He knew his birth mother wasn't around, she hadn't been since he was a baby. He hadn't seen her since, Francis had shipped her off in an incandescent rage when it was thought that the woman who bore his bastard had caused the miscarriage of his heir. (AN: Foreshadowing a Frarytales rewrite!) Nobody had told him where his birth mother had been shipped to, and in honesty, the child had never asked, because he didn't need to ask. Mary was kind and considerate and she treated him so well, there being no difference in the way she treated him and the way she treated her own children that he had no use for a woman that everybody said was a treasonous snake, who took and took and took and never did a good thing for a living person, let alone her own Queen who she betrayed time and time again. "Well, the woman you grew inside of, she wasn't a good woman. She wanted to be good, I'm sure. But, she wasn't a good woman, she didn't obey the commandments of the Lord and she didn't obey me, her Queen. She did many bad things to me, that's why your father sent her away from court, from you, when you were a babe. You stayed, he wanted you, but he didn't want her. Because she had you, and your father claimed you as his own son, her parents disowned her as a harlot. Which, she was. So, she couldn't have been sent back to Scotland. We sent her to England, under the care of my cousin, Elizabeth. You know, the woman we were fighting with?" Jean nods silently. "Well, before we took her crown and sent her for a different life, Elizabeth took your mother to the chopping block. And she sent her to heaven."

"She killed her, mama?"

"She did. But, you should know she didn't suffer at all. It was over in a moment, Jean-Philippe. But you won't ever see her again. Do you understand? Your father wanted it to be me to tell you, since it was my fight with Elizabeth that caused your mother's death."

Jean takes a moment to consider this information, before he speaks. "I never saw her anyway, mama. There is no difference between then and now. You're mama, and you're still mama." he gives Mary an affectionate squeeze. Mary smiles at him, adjusting an errant curl from his face. He looks just like Francis, it's sometimes scary the resemblance father and son bare to each other. "What's her name, mama?" the child points to the baby, who suckles away absentmindedly.

"Matilda, love. Matilda Isabella Catherine Stuart de Valois." Mary introduces the child. She's the perfect blend of she and Francis already. Dark golden eyes, light hair, her mouth, his nose. everything else is still undistinguishable, she's still so squishy from babyness, but she'll be a beauty.

"Pretty," the child tiredly coos, reaching up until the baby held his little finger in her tiny hand. "are James, Anne and Francis coming to see her?" he asks. Mary nods.

" Papa and I will come and show your sister to you after your baths, grapes and cheese." she says, kissing his head. "Now, run along. Aline is waiting for you."

The child kisses her cheek and rumbles off the chair, remembering his little bow, before rushing out the door to meet his nanny. Mary smiles at the back of the child she had raised, one that resembled such pain, but such happiness.

"You have such amazing brothers and sister, my love." Mary whispers to Matilda, her name symbolising all the strength and courage Mary had had to muster throughout the war for England. "I hope you know that."