D' Arc || The King

Chapter XVIII

There was a shriek of laughter that escaped the lips of a girl as her lover swept her up from the field and into his arms. The sun was warm, but the air has a crisp tang to it whenever it was breathed in by the occupants of France. It was peaceful enough that even those in the countryside could imagine that there was no war, only peace, and preparations for the coming season.

Henry staggered to the ground and Isabel shook her head with a chuckle as she sat up. "What are you laughing at?" He questioned, flipping her over and causing a noise of surprise to escape her lips. Bracing his forearms against the ground Henry looked down at her, their noses brushing as Isabel smiled.

"You're more clumsy than a baby horse," she teased as she cocked her head to the side. "Why you little-" "Sh, I don't want to get into an argument right now. It's not healthy for either of us," interrupted Isabel after she pressed a finger against his partially open lips. He paused for a moment before his head dropped by a fraction. "I wish it could just be like this," Henry whispered as his fingers grazed the surface of her jaw.

Isabel suppressed a series of shivers at his touch and she reached up, lacing her fingers together so they cupped the back of his neck. "A peasant and a king, sounds like something from a fairytale," she mused as her thumb ran across the nape of his neck.

"I wouldn't want it any other way. Although I could do without all the death," he said wryly before trailing kisses down to her collarbone. He paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tickling Isabel before he grumbled with a hint of humor, "How is it that I let you wear clothes all day?"

"Because my dress has too many buttons and you're an impatient man," joked Isabel, causing Henry to snort.

"It'd be so much easier if you just didn't wear anything," he declared before pressing his lips against her own.

"What was that for?" Isabel asked as they pulled apart. "If I must have a reason, I'll just say that I'd prefer it right now if you enjoyed the moment and didn't make snide remarks," Henry said and Isabel stuck out her bottom lip, pouting.

"I thought you like that about me," she complained, making him smirk. "I do. Now hush or-" "Or wha- hmph!" Isabel cut him off only to squeak in surprise as Henry's lips collided with her's again. Her shock faded quickly and Isabel's body responded easily to the kiss. Her body molded and melted against Henry's own as his hands pulled him closer to her.

The two lay there in each other's embrace and after they had run out of breath, they remained hidden in the field. Isabel leaned her head against Henry's chest as their fingers tangled together. Her eyes were closed, taking in as much peace as she could before she would be called to the birthing bed.

"Your Majesty!" A voice called, snapping the two out of their peaceful silence. "Your Majesty!"

"He's calling for you," Isabel murmured, and Henry sighed, closing his eyes for a moment before he untangled his fingers from her hair. "My men can wait. I have something of my own that I need to attend to," he said with a grin and pushing himself off the ground.

"But-" "I know," he said, cutting her off as his hand drifted up and down her leg, moving higher towards the inside of her thigh. His touch, the light graze of his fingers sent shivers up her back and Isabel arched slightly. "Beast," Isabel managed before her lips were captured by Henry's.

Hours later Isabel was sitting up, running her fingers through her hair, untangling it as much as possible, and pulling out an occasional leaf or unlucky flower.

"In England, what do the sunsets look like?" She asked curiously as she stared up at the sky. "Bright and rich," Henry said absentmindedly. Isabel rolled her eyes and looked over at him. "All sunsets are 'bright and rich'," she argued, "What makes them different from France? I've never seen anything outside of France."