*Edited: 6-27-2022.*
Word count: 4334
*I really don't want to spoil anything- but, at the same time I don't want anyone to be too confused as to what the heck's going on. Just read to the end, you'll find out what I mean. I haven't lost my mind quite yet, trust me.>~<*
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It felt warm, the room coated in a peaceful aura that let the soft sunlight shine upon my face - and a gentle breath wanted me to stay, to let the hours tick by on their own and remain in the comfort offered.
A sense barely noticed, barely heard in the serene silence of day break. A simple exhale - warmth that grazed the back of my neck in a greeting that remained unspoken...and my frame shifts - my fingers twitching before my knees pull themselves closer to my chest.
Something lay draped across my waist - a dead weight of slumber that loosely embraced my side.
My eyes crack open - which didn't ease my confusion as my gaze falls upon an unfamiliar room — a room of poise and elegance, and foggy to my memory.
As if a mirror to my prior actions, the bed behind me shifts - leaving my frame to freeze - and the arm across my waist pulls me back just enough to press against the warmth of someone's chest...their arm holding me tighter.
My first response was silence as I kept my gaze glued to the saturated rays of a window I couldn't see out of - frail thoughts leading to an exhaled breath and my hand moves hesitantly towards the arm over my midsection to then gently graze it and smooth material.
A soft sigh was in time with a breath I gathered close - a gentle kiss leading to my tensed, barely noticed flinch, and a smile I felt across my skin and through the shiver running down my spine.
"Good morning~"
His voice was tired - distinct as one person - and the answer made my heart want to stop.
What had I done...
I slowly turn as if watching each movement made, and lay on my back as I exhale, looking up at the male who propped himself up on his left elbow - which was resting by my head - his fingers playing with a few strands of my (h/c) hair and my breathing was restricted.
"Your majesty-" I breathe, my eyes looking up at his with hints of utter worry, my heartbeat wanting to panic.
"Why are we- what...what is going on?"
The male smiles at my soft spoken question, his dark, cocoa brown hair slightly messy with loose, short waves as he traces my cheek with the backs of his fingers.
"Keeping each other warm, my dear. As we have done every night since our wedding." His response reminded me of something you would hear in a romance novel — and with some faint instinct I look up toward the nightstand on my left to see a diamond ring glistening on its surface.
Another held back gasp leaves my lips before I hold my breath, the feeling of his soft lips kissing my neck and I place my hands on the royal's chest.
"Your majesty-" my voice cracks. "when did we get married?" A worried and confused tone was laced in my words, and I turn my gaze back to the entrancing irises that hovered over me.
"My dear, we've been married for almost ten years now." He says sweetly, his expression leaning towards a playfully, yet composed edge.
"Ten years-"
"Ten wonderful and beautiful years." He says happily, and I swallow the lump in my throat.
"But-"
The soft, growing cries silence my words - and the royal quietly sighs, his head falling long enough for him to take a breath before his gaze lifts once more to show the small smile on his face.
"Stay here, my love. I can get him." He says, sitting up and getting off the bed with ease.
I sit up as if to follow, the blankets pooling at my waist - my gaze following the male's frame and the white linen shirt loosely hugging his top half.
Resting in the corner of the room - now partially blocked by the king's lean figure, was a white hued crib decorated with simple engraved designs.
"Him?" I say warily, my chest falling as the royal leans over, pulling out a small bundle of off-white fabric which he held in his arms and close to his chest - an intent attention now focoused on it as he turns.
"A baby..."
George looks back up at me, taking in my whispered words.
"Our baby." He responds in kind, walking back over to me — and I stand with an air of confused caution to meet with George near the side of the bed.
The small boy was swaddled close - soft cries leaving his lips and creasing his tiny features with distress.
"We...we had a baby?" My tone was shaky - uneased.
My head tilts up by the silent gesture of the male's hand lifting my chin, and in his blue eyes concern danced.
"My dear, are you not feeling well? You seem confused. Anxious." He asks and the baby softly cries again in a need for attention.
I glance back down at the infant — what felt almost like an instinct that sat deep down kicking in...an instinct I didn't know I had and a need to comfort the swaddled boy.
I lift my hand slowly, my fingers grazing the soft, off-white fabric before the backs gently trace the infant's cheek.
My lips were parted with quiet exhales of breath - the male's arms shifting in a silent gesture that led me to take the small bundle of life into my own with great care - my eyes gazing down intently at the small pouting lip and furrowed brow making way for small wrinkles on his face.
I bring my free hand to his little cheek, tracing his skin whilst keeping him close.
"What is his name?" I ask softly, wanting to smile at the quiet and incoherent noises of the child - and George places a hand on my upper arm.
"You do not remember?" He asks and I look up to shake my head - the worried look glazing across his blue eyes once again.
"I don't...remember any of this." I say and he shows me a sympathetic smile, moving his hand to my cheek.
"His name is Frederick, dear. You haven't hit your head recently, have you? I certainly can not recall you doing so."
The male's free hand tangles itself in my slightly messy hair, and after a moment he looks back to my eyes.
"I don't feel anything either. Maybe we should fetch for the doctor-"
"I feel fine." I say softly, giving the concerned male a small smile before shaking my head only just.
"I mean, I am a little anxious- confused, but aside from that I am ok. And I remember you just fine. However..."
George smiles softly, placing his hand on the small of my back before leading me to the other side of the bed with care.
"Are you certain?" He asks in a soft tone and I nod, leaning against the side of the bed.
"I'm alright, I promise."
"I'll be right back, ok." He says - his expression dancing with many thoughts and I nod, looking back down at the baby.
"I have a son..." my whisper fades to the quiet, carefree attempts at laughter the small boy was making - the shifting of fabrics meer background noise.
The thought seemed hard to wrap my head around — I had a child...and with George?
I look up, my eyes landing on the male's now shirtless back - and the reflection of his bare chest and lean frame in the mirror made my cheeks flush - transfixed by the calm and fluid movements that led to his hand ruffling the messy strands of his dark brown hair.
"Still like what you see?" He chimes and I inhale what felt like needles, shaking my head as I tear my eyes away and scold my actions.
"Many apologies-" my words were quick and the male softly chuckles, walking back over to me with a dress shirt in hand.
"Whatever for? You have seen a lot more than this."
I look up at the new, subtle tone in his voice - one that lasted only a moment - and my words falter upon meeting his eyes.
A soft blue shade only compared to the newly frozen lakes come winter mornings.
My gaze falls after a moment — I could only assume out of curiosity - to his neck and trailing down his collarbone and chest. My skin was no match in hiding the softer hues painting it with quiet reds leading my eyes —
My vision darkens due to the hand quickly clasping over my eyes, physically pushing away the thought that threatened to enter my mind.
George chuckles quietly, his hand tracing my cheek and I hold my breath.
"Still just as shy as ever. You haven't changed a bit, my dear." He says sweetly, gently moving my hand to uncover my eyes before tilting my chin up - another small chuckle emanating softly through the room as he sees my tightly closed eyes. Another defense played on my part.
His thumb grazes my cheek.
"May I see those breathtaking eyes?"
His question was like a trance easily putting my mind to ease...my eyes opening with hesitancy that kept my nervous gaze on his.
"Please pardon my asking...but, does this mean we have- um..." I clear my throat as if to buy precious seconds. "what I mean to say is that you and I have...made..."
"Love?" George finishes my question with a small, amused smile and I shortly nod, earning a composed laugh that only made my eyes widen as he leaned down closer to my face. "Many times."
"Oh gracious..." I breathe.
"And you, my dear..." he plants a small, sweet kiss on my cheek. "were wonderful every time."
The male then gently pulls me closer, his hand on the small of my back as he leads me to the mirror, where he ruffles my hair.
"Wait here, please." He smiles, walking off as I look at my reflection in study of it.
I knit my brow.
It was strange. I surely didn't look any older - not even by a day.
My eyes move slowly, looking over every detail of my body that was not covered by my silk nightgown, before they soon fall on the fabric in my arms.
"What is going on in that head of yours, love?" George asks with a kind tone and I look up, my eyes falling on the reflection of his silky red vest and white dress shirt - seemingly staring at the familiar pieces of clothing that now hid something a part of me wanted to see once more.
His hand was gentle, running a brush through my hair in slow motions while his free hand easily smoothed down stray strands.
"I am not sure..." I respond quietly and he smiles, placing his hands on my shoulders before planting another kiss on my cheek.
Quick, yet light knocking sounds from the double doors of the room - and I turn my head, tilting it as the male's hands leave my shoulders to pick up and put on his silky red and gold jacket.
His hand then takes my free one, his frame leading mine to the doors, which he opened.
"Good morning!"
A sweet voice chimes as the door opens - my eyes falling to the two small figures of a young boy and girl in the hallway, and my expression narrows in confusion.
"Good morning, my dear." George smiles.
"We have...more?" My words were uncertain. Barely spoken.
The two children turn their attention to me.
"What do you mean, momma?"
The little girl asks.
She appeared to be six or seven - her short brown hair framing her face with loose curls and thick bangs - her eyes an uncanny resemblance of George's bright and full of life blue hues mixing with my own. Her dress rested below the knee. Pastel purple in color with soft hued bows and lace detailing matching the smaller bow holding a section of her curly hair behind her head.
A small, white, stuffed toy rabbit hung limp in her arms, its head tilted to the side as she held it close to her chest with care - the inside of its ears and the loose bow around the toy's neck made with a dull, red colored fabric adorned with small stars.
I wasn't aware I had said my question out loud — I didn't mean to say it out loud...
"Momma?" I repeat with another whisper. Hearing the simple word felt strange.
"You will have to forgive her, Clara dear. Mother is...not feeling very well today." George explains and the small girl glances at him for a moment - what looked to be concern crossing her features.
"Whatever is wrong, momma?" She asks, stepping closer as she takes my free hand - her gaze shifting to meet mine.
"I..." my voice falters.
I couldn't just tell her outright, could I?
Would it hurt her — was she just playing a part?
Had the king somehow set this all up - Warner maybe —
"It is alright, you can tell me. I can be strong, promise." The girl says, small dimples sitting at the corners of her cheeks as she smiles.
"...I do not remember any of this."
Deep down I could tell her smile wanted to falter with the tilting of her head...even if just a little.
"You do not remember us, mother?"
The small boy questions and I look up, shaking my head as I draw in a slow breath.
The boy looked like an older version of the girl - seeming to be about eight or nine - except for his hair, which was neatly cut short and had more of my color, his eyes being the same bright blue as George's while he stood with perfect posture, as the royal always did.
He wore a jacket, dark blue in color with small golden buttons that covered his vest of the same color and the white shirt underneath. The same dark blue was found in his shorts and the trim of his black, knee high socks.
"Is momma ok, poppa?" The small girl asks and George smiles with reassurance.
"She is just a little forgetful this morning, sweetie. She just needs a little time is all." His tone was comforting and the little girl looks back at me.
"I'm sorry to hear that mother." The boy says, stepping closer to me as he too smiles softly.
"I'm George IV, but you usually call me Georgie." He says before gesturing to the little girl in front of me. "That's Clara-"
"And that's baby Frederick!" Clara says happily, a big and bright smile on her face as she looks up at me expectantly. "Do you remember us again?"
After a split moment, I try my best to smile, not wanting to worry the two.
"...of course I do...how could I forget you three." I say and Clara giggles, hopping in place.
"Now can we have our picnic? Aunty Marion helped us get everything ready."
"Picnic?" I question and the young girl nods quickly.
"You and poppa said we were going to have a family day today." She says happily and I somewhat force a chuckle, a slight nervousness laced in my tone.
"Well, let us not waste any more time. Shall we?" I ask and she smiles, turning as she skips down the hall, hugging the bunny closer and her brown curls bounce with each upbeat step.
"Careful, Clara." George calls out to the small girl and I look at him as he takes my hand.
"'Aunty Marion?'" I question carefully and he nods.
"She didn't stop smiling for months when she found out you were carrying Georgie. She was also a lot more protective over you- always asking if you were alright. Same with when she found out about Clara and Frederick." He chuckles. "Between Marion and I constantly worrying about you, I'm surprised you didn't go crazy. 'Aunty Marion' is just what you three started calling her." He says and I couldn't help but respond with a lighthearted chuckle.
"Come on!" Clara giggles, stopping in front of me as I look back at her bright eyes.
"Do I not need to change first?" I ask and she quickly shakes her head - earning a chuckle from the male beside me.
"Nonsense, momma, you look beautiful no matter what you wear!" She exclaims, walking by my side as I smile.
"Why thank you..." my voice falters for a moment despite my small want to continue. "sweetie."
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The two children lead us outside, weaving between the guards posted around the back entrance of the castle as Clara tried to catch up to her older brother, the bunny in her hands flailing behind her as she laughed, running down the stairs before chasing her brother down the pathway and onto the grass.
"Are you sure you don't want me to take the baby?" George asks after a moment as he leads me through the garden and over to an area where a blanket was spread out, a basket in one of its corners along with some plates and silverware.
"I'm ok." I say kindly as he helps me sit down, making sure I was comfortable before he sits closely by my side.
I place the small baby in my lap with great care, holding his upper back and supporting his neck as I gaze down at him with a weak smile breaking through my nerves.
"...ten years. Three kids. And marriage. Yet I fail to remember any of it?" I look at the male beside me as he smiles - and I exhale. "Tell me something else, please?"
"Well, you're a very good queen, kind and honest- full of compassion for others, and very trustworthy. Our people adore you, and so do the children. You're a very good mother; protective, kind, and understanding. You read to the children every night, tucking them into bed and telling them you love them, making sure they're ok. You taught them to be humble and kind, yet outgoing and brave, and let them know you are there for them- shower them with affection."
A small smile tugs at the corners of my lips. "And what about us? Are we happy?" I ask and he smiles, rubbing my back with a gentle hand.
"We have had our small fights here and there, like every couple has. But yes, I would say we are very happy. You've opened up to me a lot more, as have I with you. We're both there for each other. If we have a problem we sit down and we talk about it, find a solution or a compromise and we never go to bed without telling the other how much we love and care for each other." He says and I smile a little more - leaning just a little closer.
"Are you sure you do not want me to fetch for the doctor, my love, I'm worried about you."
His features held many more unspoken thoughts, yet I show the male a comforting smile.
"I've told you not to worry about me so much. However...if it helps to ease your worry, and I'm not better by tonight, then you are free to call for the doctor. I just...don't want to worry them."
My eyes glance behind George, watching the two small children playing in the distance - their soft laughter sounding throughout the garden.
I watch the two run around in the grass for a minute, Clara chasing her older brother as they laughed, before my gaze falls and I adjust the blanket around the small baby's head.
"So...I didn't escape then?" I ask softly and George looks back at me, tilting his head as he furrows his brow.
"Escape?" He questions with slight hesitation, and I look back up.
"My love, you haven't mentioned running away for a long time. I thought we had moved passed this?" His hand takes mine, holding it tightly and my features mirrored the saddened look now resting on his - the once bright blue eyes haunted with worry.
"I know- at least, I believe I did...it's just..." my voice trails, my gaze turning to the gold trim on his jacket before I take a breath and meet his concerned gaze once more.
"My last attempt. Did I at least make it to the docks- on a ship..."
George raises a brow, lightly squeezing my hand before wrapping his right arm around my shoulder to hold me close.
"(Y/n), my dear, you stayed with me willingly." His words were calm - and my brow furrows.
"Willingly?" I breathe as Clara sits herself down on the blanket, her breathing heavy and her cheeks a soft red as she holds her bunny close, her older brother sitting next to her - and her bright gaze was focused on me.
"Momma." She chimes, catching her breath and I look over to her. "Are you ok? You look frightened?" She asks, the small smile on her face falling to be replaced with concern.
I try to smile, my heartbeat picking up as Georgie tilts his head, his eyes looking at my worried expression. "Are you and father talking about when you were in danger?" His question was monotoned, and I swallow.
"Danger? From what?" I ask and the little boy fixes his posture.
"Do you not remember? You and father fell in love and ran away together, because your family didn't agree- they got General Washington and his men to come after you." Georgie pauses for a moment, trying to keep a straight face, yet one could tell his voice wanted to crack.
"They tried everything to take you back with them...they even brainwashed you into wanting to leave." He straightens once again, seeming more proud as Clara moves closer, leaning her head on George's shoulder.
"But father didn't let that happen."
"Poppa saved you though. Brought you back home." She smiles, hugging George's arm with her free one, her stuffed bunny laying on the blanket in front of her and the older male smiles softly.
"He protected you, and sent the bad guys away. Didn't you poppa." She chimes and I swallow as George ruffles her dark brown hair.
"Mother." Georgie speaks up and I turn my attention back to him, a worried look hidden behind a thin veil.
"They aren't coming back for you, are they?"
"What?" I whisper.
"Why do they want to take you from us?" Georgie asks and a frightened look crosses Clara's face almost immediately.
"But they can't take you from us- we're a family." She says, crawling closer to and sitting on her knees in front of me. "Can they not see we're happy- why do they want to hurt you momma? Why do they want to take you away from us?" Her pleas were quick - a fearful look in her once bright and happy eyes - and my chest felt constricted
"Clara, sweetie-" I try to keep my voice calm as I look at the tears brimming the little girl's eyes - my hands adjusting the small baby in my left arm before gesturing for her to come closer and without waisting a moment she quickly gets on her knees, moving to sit on my lap - but being careful of the smaller child as she lays her head on my shoulder, tears starting to fall down her face.
"Why can't they just let us be happy?"
I hold her closer, rubbing her shoulder for a moment before I lightly kiss the top of her head.
"Momma's not going anywhere sweetie...I promise."
Georgie straightens, standing as he walks closer to and sits by my side, slightly behind but still in between George and I.
"Don't worry Clara, we won't let them hurt us. Father and I will protect you and mother. We promise." He says, his tone confident as he places a hand on my shoulder.
I look at George, a fear in my eyes as he smiles softly back at me, his gaze gentle as I tried to wrap my head around what the two children - my children were talking about.
What had George told them?
What had we told them?
"Please don't leave us, momma."
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~~~ September 25, 1777 ~~~
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The gasp leaving my lips hurt my throat - my frame shooting up from the warmth of the blankets around me in a split moment.
I felt like shaking - my chest rising and falling with each loosely kept breath greeted by cool air.
My eyes close tightly, and I pull my knees closer to my upper body - my hand up by my neck as if feeling for rope that was no longer there, my trembling fingers tracing small circles on my collarbone.
I knew I was fine. No. I knew it wasn't real - it couldn't have been.
I wanted to feel fine - for steady breaths and calmed heartbeats that now seemed impossible, to lull me back to safety within the heat of my bed and for the sun to stay away for even just a little longer.
Another shallow exhale. Deep inhale.
And for the life of me I couldn't seem to figure out why what I knew to be a meer figment of my imagination scared me so bad...and yet at the same time...hurt to let go.
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Author's note~
This chapter was a doozy. I know it was a wee bit crazy, and I think I went a little overboard so I hope it wasn't too confusing to read.
But, big thanks to my friend sskmskksksksksmsks for coming up with the family dream idea! (when my dumb butt had writer's block-)