(no subject)
The wedding is long and lavish, the ceremonies are perfectly executed, and the food? Exquisite. That of course, wasn’t including the wines that had gone along with the meal itself… It was enough to guarantee Francis a happy day. But the night? The night would be a different matter entirely, and it all relied on his bride, and how she felt about the entire matter. Due to the unfortunate circumstances of the war, Francis had never had the opportunity to meet his young bride, only able to learn about her through the portrait and model of her that had been sent to him-and, of course, by listening to the rumors in court about the young Princess (now Queen) Maria. Not that he gave much credence to rumors, no, but when the only information he could find on her was about a sickly childhood, it did make him curious…
And his little mystery bride, now next sitting next to him, does not seem to notice him, instead staring out of the window of the carriage. Perhaps, he thinks, she is shy? Being nervous-it was normal for a girl to be afraid of her bridal night, and though he wasn’t intimate with her family, he did have some idea of what many young royal women were taught about wedded bliss: to hope for a mildly pleasant time, but not to get too excited. Business was business, after all. Francis, of course, disagreed with the entire notion and had all sorts of plans to use to help ease her into their bed, but perhaps this would be more difficult than he thought.
“Maria,” he calls. She doesn’t respond, simply continuing to look out the window. He pauses-was she ignoring him? Even if she was feeling shy, ignoring him wasn’t a behavior he would tolerate. He reaches to her to take her chin, gentle and firm, and turns her face to his. She startles as he touches her, and he feels partially relieved. She probably wasn’t focused on ignoring him if she was so startled by that. “It isn’t anything to be frightened of, not tonight.” She looks at him, confused, and suddenly a panic seizes in his stomach. Though he had prepared for all sorts of possibilities, this was one he hadn’t expected at all. It takes a moment to consider a way to break the entire idea of sex to her. “Have they not explained about relations between a man and a woman to you?” At that she blushes something fierce; he is uncertain why.
“Of course!” She says before he can go any further. “I have been educated in all of the-the realms of being a wife.” Her spine is suddenly ramrod straight, and she won’t look at him. “And I’m not afraid of… it.” The way she says that combined with her posture… it’s almost too much, and Francis can’t hold back a small chuckle. Somehow, she manages to straighten even more at that.
He reins in his amusement quickly-offending her would be the quickest way to a cold bed. “I do not doubt your intelligence, my dear,” he says, running his fingers along her jawline, then cupping her cheek. It’s meant as comfort, but if it arouses other things in her, then all the better. “Nor do I doubt your fearlessness.” And that’s true-she’s too proud to be fearful. Nervousness, however, was something else entirely. “I only wanted to make you comfortable-you haven’t looked at me since we said our vows.” She nods.
“No, I haven’t,” she replies, and that seems to be that for her. He’s puzzled for a moment-so he asks what she has been looking at, and her answer is so simple he almost doesn’t believe it, and she must have seen the confusion on his face. “It’s different-the scenery, I mean.” Then he understands; the girl had been raised in the high mountains, far from his kingdom. The fields and plateaus of his home are a far cry from the peaks she knows. She is brave, he thinks, but she has never been so far from home, and this wasn’t a vacation-this was permanent.
“It is,” he agrees. He has never been to the land she grew up in specifically, but the mountains of her home stretch far, even reaching well into his kingdom. Perhaps, in the future, he will take her for a summer there, but for now she must learn what her new home looks like. His hand moves up, skimming across the shell of her ear. That she reacts too, a tiny swallow. “Is it better than looking at me?” Maybe a little play would make the rest of the a little easier on her. Now she looks at him.
“I’ve looked at you all day,” she says, “And I have the rest of the night to look at you. Let me eyes rest, please.” Is that the vaguest hint of a smirk on her lips? In the moment of a sentence, her demeanor has almost completely changed. Francis has no qualms about taking advantage of this new development.
“What a poor soul, forced to gaze upon her comely husband. But if you would be so lenient and kind as to let me sit a little nearer to you, I may be able to show you any particular landmarks.” She’ll have to learn them, anyway, and if she reacted like that when he touched her ear, then perhaps he will be able to get an equal or greater response if he whispers right into her ear…
She looks at him, possibly suspicious of his intentions. Innocent, but certainly not witless. But she relents with a nod, turning back towards the window. Francis grins; she’s not a friendly girl, but certainly agreeable. There’s almost an hour left before they reach their destination, and that is plenty of time to start to warm her up to his charm.
And his little mystery bride, now next sitting next to him, does not seem to notice him, instead staring out of the window of the carriage. Perhaps, he thinks, she is shy? Being nervous-it was normal for a girl to be afraid of her bridal night, and though he wasn’t intimate with her family, he did have some idea of what many young royal women were taught about wedded bliss: to hope for a mildly pleasant time, but not to get too excited. Business was business, after all. Francis, of course, disagreed with the entire notion and had all sorts of plans to use to help ease her into their bed, but perhaps this would be more difficult than he thought.
“Maria,” he calls. She doesn’t respond, simply continuing to look out the window. He pauses-was she ignoring him? Even if she was feeling shy, ignoring him wasn’t a behavior he would tolerate. He reaches to her to take her chin, gentle and firm, and turns her face to his. She startles as he touches her, and he feels partially relieved. She probably wasn’t focused on ignoring him if she was so startled by that. “It isn’t anything to be frightened of, not tonight.” She looks at him, confused, and suddenly a panic seizes in his stomach. Though he had prepared for all sorts of possibilities, this was one he hadn’t expected at all. It takes a moment to consider a way to break the entire idea of sex to her. “Have they not explained about relations between a man and a woman to you?” At that she blushes something fierce; he is uncertain why.
“Of course!” She says before he can go any further. “I have been educated in all of the-the realms of being a wife.” Her spine is suddenly ramrod straight, and she won’t look at him. “And I’m not afraid of… it.” The way she says that combined with her posture… it’s almost too much, and Francis can’t hold back a small chuckle. Somehow, she manages to straighten even more at that.
He reins in his amusement quickly-offending her would be the quickest way to a cold bed. “I do not doubt your intelligence, my dear,” he says, running his fingers along her jawline, then cupping her cheek. It’s meant as comfort, but if it arouses other things in her, then all the better. “Nor do I doubt your fearlessness.” And that’s true-she’s too proud to be fearful. Nervousness, however, was something else entirely. “I only wanted to make you comfortable-you haven’t looked at me since we said our vows.” She nods.
“No, I haven’t,” she replies, and that seems to be that for her. He’s puzzled for a moment-so he asks what she has been looking at, and her answer is so simple he almost doesn’t believe it, and she must have seen the confusion on his face. “It’s different-the scenery, I mean.” Then he understands; the girl had been raised in the high mountains, far from his kingdom. The fields and plateaus of his home are a far cry from the peaks she knows. She is brave, he thinks, but she has never been so far from home, and this wasn’t a vacation-this was permanent.
“It is,” he agrees. He has never been to the land she grew up in specifically, but the mountains of her home stretch far, even reaching well into his kingdom. Perhaps, in the future, he will take her for a summer there, but for now she must learn what her new home looks like. His hand moves up, skimming across the shell of her ear. That she reacts too, a tiny swallow. “Is it better than looking at me?” Maybe a little play would make the rest of the a little easier on her. Now she looks at him.
“I’ve looked at you all day,” she says, “And I have the rest of the night to look at you. Let me eyes rest, please.” Is that the vaguest hint of a smirk on her lips? In the moment of a sentence, her demeanor has almost completely changed. Francis has no qualms about taking advantage of this new development.
“What a poor soul, forced to gaze upon her comely husband. But if you would be so lenient and kind as to let me sit a little nearer to you, I may be able to show you any particular landmarks.” She’ll have to learn them, anyway, and if she reacted like that when he touched her ear, then perhaps he will be able to get an equal or greater response if he whispers right into her ear…
She looks at him, possibly suspicious of his intentions. Innocent, but certainly not witless. But she relents with a nod, turning back towards the window. Francis grins; she’s not a friendly girl, but certainly agreeable. There’s almost an hour left before they reach their destination, and that is plenty of time to start to warm her up to his charm.