Great Expectations [Arthuriana]

[theunpressuredclub]

It's not that she doesn't understand. She absolutely does. The panic that had existed following the death of the king with no clear had been strong. She knows that both her and the king's youth is seen as a sign of virility and fertility-- that they expect, half a year after their marriage, for the Queen to be showing the fruits of it.

It's just that it drives her near to madness, to have so many people prodding in the most polite and subtle manner they can manage. It's just that her ladies and the midwife have taken to inquiring everything from whether or not she and the king's time in the bedroom is satisfactory and that did she know such-and-such herb taken a certain way twice a day encouraged pregnancy.

It's just that she and Edgar have been working so carefully up to the more passionate touches they're starting to exchange now. It's just that the thought of them actually consummating the marriage what feels like this early on gets her heart fluttering in a way that is only uncomfortable.

It's just that it twists her faith in her king's gentle assurances that he'll give her all the time she needs before then into a question mark. It's just that she can't help but wonder if he isn't secretly disappointed in her for the time she's taking.

Most of the time, at least, those latter questions don't ring quite so loud in heart as the frustration towards others that has her flopping with a heavy sigh into her chair in their chambers and pulling a hairbrush out to tug with a touch of visciousness in her hair.

Comments

[ofthecubs]

It's easier, of course, being King. He's allowed to spend most of his time out of Court while he trains with the knights--and it hadn't taken long at all for the entire army to discover that the young monarch absolutely wouldn't be forthcoming with any details about the young queen behind closed doors.

And, for the most part, everyone in the court seems entirely content with the fact that the King being a young man means that the King is actively trying to bring forth whole scores of sons with his wife; that if there's fault, it can't be with the man carrying on the royal bloodline.

It isn't at the front of his mind when he shuts the door and sees the obvious unhappiness in Rachel's shoulders as she throws herself into her chair. He can't help staring a moment at the way she begins to comb angrily before he manages to prompt himself forward again. "--have I offended you, milady?"

[theunpressuredclub]

She can't shake her head when she's combing her hair, so the brush halts a moment as she shakes her head.

"No, my King."

And she almost leaves it at that, but there's trust, here, for all she can't help the small hints of doubt about his genuine lack of care over their current lack of coupling. There's faith even as she shoves her brush back onto the tabletop before shifting in her chair to face him properly.

"Am I to be seen as nothing but a-- a broodmare by our people?" she asks him, eyes beseeching, "I had thought Queens worthy of a little more than their ability to be-- vessels for the next king to grow in."

[ofthecubs]

He's glad for the trust. He's glad for the intimacy of thoughts and emotions between them.

He's just not entirely equipped to actually respond to the root of this particular frustration.

It makes him hesitate a moment before he shifts to move to perch on the edge of the bed to handle his boots. "Our people adore you for far more than that."

His attention hadn't yet turned from the people who lived in the villages he had known as the whole world, after all.

"And our court--" That he has to sigh about. "--is nervous. Are they growing so inelegant, Rachel?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"They attempted to give me four different concotions meant to encourage pregnancy today, and Helena wishes to-- prod and poke at me again to make sure everything's 'working as it's meant to.'"

Despite the clear irritaiton in her voice, she lifts the brush again to continue working on her hair at a much easier pace.

"I understand their concern, truly, but it's-- irking."

[ofthecubs]

It isn't something he can fix. It isn't something he can sweep over and address, the way he could bind a small wound or adjust the bindings of her dress. He's not even sure this is something he can help by lying beside her in bed, fingers tangled together and smiling reassurances on his lips.

"Tell me what to say, and it will be done."

He knows the weight of his words, after all, but even now--not so long, in his own calculation, since he took the throne--he has far more trust in her understanding of the court than his own.

[theunpressuredclub]

"I don't know if there's anything to say that won't make it worse," she sighs softly, "Everyone wants this-- so badly and-- so soon, Edgar."

Everyone except her, it seems. Glancing up at her husband comes with a bite of her lip in uncertainty.

"Am I wrong not to, just yet? Do you-- begrudge me my hesitancy?"

[ofthecubs]

"Begrudge?"

There's a laugh in his voice as he rises from the bed to properly hang his sword in its rightful place for the evening.

"Of course not. I only wish it didn't-- hurt you."

From the external word pressing in on what should be something private between a man and a woman.

[theunpressuredclub]

Her sigh is soft as she lowers her hairbrush down again, getting to her feet and moving to join him by the bed, her lips finding his cheek.

"I wish I were more ready."

[ofthecubs]

He always leans slightly into the press of her lips. For all he'd been away from society most of his early life, the expression of touch has made infinite sense to him. The devotion he had to Rachel, the affection he held tight in his heart, the incredibly innocent love obvious in every smile he sent in her direction; all of it felt best expressed, to his heart, when he could hold her hand or kiss her forehead or lie close beside her.

It's cautious now, reaching to loosely catch her fingers in his for a moment. "When you are, we'll be glad it wasn't--"

His sigh is just a little soft as he squeezes her fingers.

"We'll be married our whole lives, Rachel. We shouldn't-- begin in hurt and discomfort."

[theunpressuredclub]

Her fingers squeeze back slightly as she shifts to rest her forehead against his.

"You are so good to me."

So considerate of what she needs from him, even if the rest of the world is not.

[ofthecubs]

"I love you."

It's as simple as that, in his mind. Even having sat on the throne this long and been told this often what was expected of him as a crown rather than a man, it's impossible to imagine loving his wife any other way.

"How else should I ever be?"

[theunpressuredclub]

"Many men-- kings, even-- claim to love their wives," she replies softly, "Not every one of them shows it the way you do."

[ofthecubs]

There's something helpless in the lift of his shoulders. It's underlined by something entirely open and devoted in his open smile.

"If you'd have me love you some other way, Rachel, teach me."

The way she had taught him to stand with his chin lifted like a king, to sit straight in his chair when the court was watching him; to find peace and contentment when the world rushed too fast around them.

[theunpressuredclub]

"No, Edgar." Her lips find his, the kiss a careful, chaste one, "I like being loved by you like this."

Even if the rest of the world would think it madness.

[ofthecubs]

Leaning after the kiss is only brief. The smile it leaves lingering on his lips is obviously entirely content.

"I would-- see you happy, being loved this way."

an incorrect button was pushed. :<

[theunpressuredclub]

"I am," she assures, "It's only the rest of court that plagues me."

shh no one noticed /o/

[ofthecubs]

"Shall I issue-- a proclamation?"

Resting his forehead against hers is gentle, entirely tentative. Proximity is starting to be an easier thing, but this is hardly a conversation to make assumptions through.

"No one is to speak of-- pregnancy until a year's time?"

ohgood <3

[theunpressuredclub]

Her laugh is soft, the shake of her head slight against the press of his forehead.

"No, love, it's all right. I imagine it will only make them fret more."

Although.

"...I wonder if-- the Wizard wouldn't mind mysteriously tossing out some sort of 'prophecy' that would make it seem as though they'll have to wait at least that long."

\o/ ♥!

[ofthecubs]

That pulls a brief, bright laugh off his lips in return. His forehead stays comfortably against hers, encouraged for the moment.

"I'll ride to see him in the morning. I'm certain he's just dying to have another mandate out over Camelot."

♥♥♥~

[theunpressuredclub]

"He does take a rather impressive amount of pride in being able to do so," she agrees with a fond smile.

There'll be another soft kiss pressed against his lips, "Thank you."

[ofthecubs]

His fingers squeeze carefully at her arms, not quite ready to let go and not quite certain he's allowed to truly pull her into an embrace.

"I should do world's more for you, Rachel, if I could."

[theunpressuredclub]

"This is enough," she murmurs, letting herself curl in a little closer to him so he can wrap his arms more properly around her, "Truly, it is."

[ofthecubs]

Actually holding her is a genuine delight. His nose bumps affectionately against hers as his exhale comes with a calm sigh.

"This and a prophecy."

[theunpressuredclub]

"You're wonderful."

So much better than she expected.

[ofthecubs]

"I've been taught well, then."

Imitating her had, after all, absolutely allowed him to remain soft and kind despite the bitterness clinging to so much of the court.

[theunpressuredclub]

A flicker of a smile, then.

"You've learned well, as well."