happyfalcon | [For Thomas] [Young Couple AU] Time of Discovery

[For Thomas] [Young Couple AU] Time of Discovery

Anne wandered the halls of Allington. She had spent all her life at Hever Castle, knowing all the secret places she could go there to be alone. But Anne had no knowledge of such places in Allington. Not that she needed solitude as often, but lately she found her mind wandering, busy with thoughts. She would have liked to have a place of her own in this castle, her new home. Small, out of the way; someplace where she could clear her head. Surely Thomas must know of some such places – this was his childhood home, after all. So she sought out her beloved husband.

Anne’s mind had been preoccupied with curious thoughts lately. Her monthly bleeding had not yet come, and had been due some time ago. Anne paid it little mind, at least at first.
But the headaches she’d been plagued with were the worst – impossible to ignore. They appeared at random, and were so bothersome that Anne could barely stand hardly any noise at all when they afflicted her. A sound as soft as the scratching of Thomas’s quill on paper could drive her to near-madness, though she did not say so aloud. So intense were her headaches in the mornings that they drove Anne to feel nauseous.

But she wasn’t afflicted with such feelings now, and suddenly as she wandered Anne found herself hungry. Well, not hungry really – craving, was the word.

Anne wanted apples.

Well, she had been wanting them a lot lately. It seemed that no other food could appease her. For three days this week she had turned away her dessert in favor of an apple or two, on one occasion three. Each time the desire for the fruit was so overwhelming she thought she’d go mad or fall ill if she didn’t get her hands on at least one.

Abandoning her search for Thomas, Anne made her way to the kitchens and had the good fortune of finding a basket full of the fruit she sought. Anne plucked one from the basket and eagerly devoured it, greedily licking the juice from her fingers and tossing the core into a basket of scraps.

But her belly wasn’t satisfied.

So Anne took another, and devoured it with a bit less vigor than the first. Still, she wanted more. Not wanting to stand in the kitchen all day, Anne took two apples and left the room, taking again to wandering the halls. Gripping an apple in each hand, Anne bit into one as she walked. Then it occurred to her. This was very familiar.

Anne had seen this behavior in women of the French court. Certain women. The headaches, the nausea, the lack of bleeding, the cravings. All that was missing was the tell-tale sign of a swollen belly.

Could it be? Was she with child?

Suddenly worried, Anne sought Thomas out, peeking into rooms as she passed by, inquiring of the servants until she found him in the library. Almost immediately she felt a bit more at peace, more relaxed, just seeing his face. So what if she was indeed with child? Wasn’t that good news? It meant that she was doing her wifely duty in providing a child, hopefully a son, to carry on the family legacy.

With a smile she took another bite of her apple approached his chair without a word. Anne set the unbitten apple down on the table, keeping the other in her hand to continue nibbling at it with a smile.

“Husband,” she nodded her head in greeting. “Have you a moment?”

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Anne shrugged her shoulders a bit. "I know we don't have to, but I can see why it is done. It is good to pay homage and respect to one's ancestors."

But that also meant that the pool of usable names was limited. She smiled as she continued stroking his golden curls. Anne closed her dark eyes as well, just basking in the moment. Basking in the warmth of the bed they shared, of his body as he rested against her, of the feeling of their child growing restless within her womb.

"Thomas Wyatt the Younger," Anne smiled as the name rolled right off her tongue like water. "Yes, I do quite like the sound of it. I'm certain he shall make himself different from the other Thomases of the world, if he's anything like his father."

His remark about having a girl made Anne pause, but her smile only grew. For so long she'd been told that when she married she'd have to give her husband a son. It was drilled into her head, into Mary's head, from the time they were able to speak. So to hear Thomas say that he would love a daughter just as much...Anne couldn't be more elated.

"As would I, my dearest heart," She replied. "A daughter with our combined wits? She'd set the world ablaze - but not necessarily in a bad way."

"Absolutely. A name makes not a man but the deeds he does." There was much he still needed to do to establish himself as a respected member of society. Dabbling with poetry was fine, as was showing his face at court every now and then. Being a husband and a father were noble tasks. But he hadn't done anything noteworthy yet. Perhaps that was something for his children to fulfill.

"Silly. Why would our children set the world ablaze in a bad way?" he laughed and kissed her.

***

Months passed and winter turned to spring. His lovely wife grew rounder and rounder by each day. There had already been a couple of occasions when Wyatt had rushed out of their bedroom to announce the start of her labour but they had been false alarms.

Elizabeth Boleyn had arrived a fortnight ago; the doctor and a local midwife had been informed. Wyatt was beyond anxious. Waiting was so hard. He took Anne outside to look at flowerbuds or sat with her by the window.

"Tell me when it begins," he urged for the umpteenth of times, as if she could keep it a secret.

If Anne had thought Thomas fussed and worried over her, his actions paled in comparison to her mother's. Ever since Elizabeth had arrived she had been more demanding and restrictive than Thomas had ever been. The way she worried and fussed, one would have thought that every little step and breath that Anne took put the baby in danger. It was a miracle that Elizabeth hadn't discovered them at the window, or she likely would have found some issue with that as well.

Anne had been uncomfortable all morning. Soft, aching pain in her belly had begun in the morning and had only grown stronger. But she fought it off, convinced it was her mother working her last nerve, or yet another false alarm.

She gave Thomas an analytical look. With a roll of her eyes she forced a smile. "Dearest heart, when it begins you shall be the second person to know," the first of course being Anne.

Anne trailed her fingers over her very swollen belly, which was very warm to the touch even through her gown. She could no longer wear her stiff bodice or corset with her belly so round as it was. But thank God for that, because the uncomfortable turning in her belly was difficult enough to endure. Her dark eyes glanced up after a moment.

"Thomas...call for my mother, will you please?" Anne's voice strained a bit as she adjusted her position, thinking the way she was sitting to be at fault for her discomfort.

His eyes flew open - as did his mouth.

"Now?!" Wyatt jumped up from the chair. He turned for the door, then back at her, unsure of if she really meant it. "I'll be right back. Stay," he ordered like she was a dog and rushed out.

And back in once more, leaning down and taking Anne's face between his hands. "I love you," he gasped and kissed her before finally finding his way through the castle to find both his mother and hers.

He followed the two women to his chamber although he knew already that he would not be allowed to stay with Anne if she really went into labour. Before that was confirmed, he was going to wait outside the door in case he was told to find the midwife.

Anne didn't have the strength to scold him when he commanded her to stay like a hound. She was too focused on the pain in her core that was steadily becoming more unbearable. Elizabeth Boleyn hustled back to their chambers when Thomas found her and approached Anne carefully.

"Child, what is it?" she asked her daughter.

"He's restless, mother- ah!!" Anne cried out sharply when she felt sharp pain radiate through her core, which made her double over.

"...Anne get into bed," Elizabeth commanded lowly in a voice that told Anne that she knew something and wasn't telling.

Reluctantly, and with help from her mother, Anne stood up. She barely made it a few steps before another sharp pain made Anne freeze and cry out in pain. Another false alarm? She was ready to curse this child for putting her through so much pain! But she failed to notice the fluid rush that broke from within her. Elizabeth's eyes flashed to Thomas. Her water had broken.

"Fetch the midwife, this time it's happening," Elizabeth exclaimed, helping Anne to the bed and sitting up beside her as she cried out in pain.

"Yes, mam." Wyatt dwadled not after the command. The midwife lived in a little hamlet at the edge of Lock Wood, not far from the castle at all. Wyatt ran all the way there.

"Ay, I have waited for you," the woman said smiling. "My son is working the fields. Go and tell him to fetch the doctor and I get my things ready in the meanwhile."

Wyatt nodded and did as told. The midwife was an older lady and her son already a grown man with his own family. He would ride to the doctor's home and ask where to find him. It was possible that he was far away, helping somebody else, for he took care of many families all around Kent. Wyatt did not want to think the doctor would not make it to Allington in time, but he'd been told a good midwife was often more valuable than a doctor.

"A first child often takes his time to come to this world," the midwife assured Wyatt as they walked towards Allington. She noticed how anxious he was and knew he would have liked to make her run if it had been possible. Eventually they reached the castle and Wyatt showed the woman a way to Anne.

"How is she doing?" he asked his mother.

"She's doing fine, my son. Go and talk to your father."

The whole time Thomas was gone Anne continued to cry out and scream as pain raked through her core. The only relief to be had was that this was it - it was actually happening...the baby was coming! Maids began scurrying in, cleaning up the fluid Anne had lost and bringing water to soothe her heated face. Elizabeth remained by her side the whole time.

Shortly after Wyatt and the midwife arrived at the castle, Thomas Boleyn burst through the front doors, barely waiting to be properly announced. He could hear Anne’s wailing already, as though he were right there in the birthing room with her. As the day drew near and the false alarms had occurred, Elizabeth had then sent word to Boleyn in London that Anne could have the baby any day, and that he should be there to receive his grandchild. Obeying his wife, Boleyn had come, and not a moment too soon.

He found Henry Wyatt first and they took a seat in the great hall to await the news. When Thomas joined them Boleyn would greet his son-in-law with a cheerful smile.

Anne meanwhile was writhing in pain, desperately trying to keep her wits to obey the commands of the midwife. There were several maids assisting the midwife, seated on her stool at the end of the bed. Elizabeth sat beside Anne, smoothing back her hair, stroking her forehead and whispering sweetness to her to keep her as calm as possible. Each push, each contraction ripped through Anne as a burning ache that seemed to get higher and higher each time. She was being stretched to her absolute limit, her body couldn’t take much more of this!

The only thing keeping her from completely losing her mind was the almond oil that the midwife had warmed for use during the ordeal. Its scent reminded Anne of Thomas and the sugared almonds he ate so often, which soothed her and kept her calmer than she would have been otherwise.

After hours that stretched on for an eternity, the midwife informed Anne that the head had been cleared – it was just a matter of the shoulders now. This was usually where complications arose – this was where some women needed to be cut with the midwife’s knife in order to let the baby out. Then came infections, or bleeding out, and death. Fear gripped Anne as she followed the midwife’s instructions, pushing when she needed to and catching her breath when she could. The midwife demanded another push – the strongest Anne could muster. Anne obeyed, and in a fluid rush, the pressure and pain were suddenly gone.

Elizabeth disappeared as Anne lay back against the pillows, exhausted and tended by the maids. Her thoughts were consumed by the desire to sleep.

Then came the sharp cry of an infant and Anne sat bolt upright, supported by two maids still by her side. The others were beginning to clear away the soiled linens to ensure that Anne didn’t develop an infection. She could see the midwife handing her baby over to Elizabeth. The infant had already been wrapped in swaddling clothes, thus Anne could not see the sex of her newborn. Weakly she reached out, unable to resist the wailing of her own baby.

“What is it? Mother? Mother, tell me!” Anne begged.

Elizabeth approached slowly, whispering to the baby and smiling. She settled on the bed beside Anne, handing the baby over before kissing her forehead.

“Well done, sweet Anne. You’ve had a son.”

Relief washed over Anne as she held her crying son in her arms. Elizabeth rose and left the room. Anne in the meanwhile rocked the baby back and forth, humming softly to him. This lessened his crying and made his mother smile.

Elizabeth had made her way downstairs – the men heard the baby crying and were stiffly staring as she approached. With a playful grin, crafty like her daughter, Elizabeth stepped up beside Thomas and nudged his shoulder.

“Well, what are you waiting for? Go and see!” Elizabeth laughed, keeping her lips sealed as to the sex of the baby. Though she gave a look to the other men at the table that conveyed a clear enough message: That Thomas was to go up alone to see to his wife and child. There would be time enough for them later.

The midwife instructed Anne carefully, and said that she should move minimally, in case complications arose. But thankfully she hadn’t had to use her knife, so the risk of infection had been greatly reduced. Relieved, Anne thanked the midwife as the maids finished in the room and all left to let mother and child be alone. She continued rocking and singing softly to her newborn son, which seemed to calm his wailing. Anne brought her fingers up to gently touch the little hand that peeked out from the blankets, and nearly burst into joyous tears at the feeling of his fingers wrapping around hers.

Wyatt didn't have the patience to sit with the other men all that time. Every now and then he creeped behind their bedroom door and almost every time he was so troubled by Anne's wailing that he had to leave, pulling his hair.

His father offered him a drink though only one, saying that it was best to be sober when he finally got to see his child. Then suppertime came but there was still no baby. Wyatt barely ate a thing.

But finally - a faint cry that wasn't Anne's. Henry Wyatt and Thomas Boleyn cast a knowing look on each other; Wyatt's face lit up, too. It didn't even occur to him to ask Elizabeth if the child was a boy or a girl. Through the months they had referred to the baby as a boy out of habit, but he would welcome a girl as well.

Wyatt leaped up the stairs, two or three at a time. He knocked on the door but didn't wait for a response. With a slightly scared expression on his face he came in and stopped at the door to watch Anne sing.

She looked... weary and exhausted and wonderful and exalted. Angelic. And she was holding a bundle that was their son.

Or was it a son? Wyatt stepped closer, curious to know. He could see the top of the baby's head and it was covered with soft dark hair. That made him immediately think the child was a daughter who had the looks of her mother. Nobody had told him that newborn babies' hair color often changed in the next six months or so.

He sat on the edge of the bed and smiled faintly. "I was worried. You cried. The baby... can I see?" He looked back and forth between the mother and child, not knowing if it was alright to touch her.

As Thomas entered, Anne looked up. Suddenly she was embarrassed – how haggard she must look! She knew that her face must still have been red and hot from her exertions, and that her hair was a mess. But it didn’t matter when it came right down to it. Nothing was going to spoil this.

“Well, bringing another human being into the world is difficult business," Anne replied softly, letting her finger brush against the baby's chubby little cheek.

Her dark eyes flashed up to him as he asked to see. "The very idea, a father asking permission to hold his own son," Anne teased him, looking down at the baby to address him. "What are we to do with him, hm?"

But Anne smiled up at Thomas after a minute, holding up her arms to offer the baby to him. The baby didn't seem too happy about being moved and fussed a bit, but didn't wail like he had before. Anne's eyes moved to catch his gaze, just to reiterate:

"My love, we have a son."

Wyatt missed the first time she said 'son', being too occupied with the thought that he actually had a child now. She had created and carried that little person with minimal help from him. He also felt like he had entered a secret world of motherhood instead of his usual bedroom and here, he needed her permission to hold the baby.

Which was a favor he got. With almost shaking hands, Wyatt took the child from Anne. He shushed at the weak expression of displeasure the baby expressed for being handed over from the beloved mother. We have a son. And then he finally got it!

"A son? We have a son?" A smile beamed across Wyatt's face as he traced the line of the boy's forehead that was visible from under the cloth he had been tightly wrapped in. The little mouth puckered up.

"I so thought- Hmm, a daughter like her mother would have pleased me too, but I am happy to have a son. And you, are you the most happy now?"

Edited 2015-02-27 20:27 (UTC)

Anne smiled, watching Thomas hold and look upon their newborn. Then as the realization hit him she couldn't help laughing softly. She was absolutely aglow with pride and new motherhood. Anne glanced down to look upon the baby as Thomas held and touched him.

"A son, yes," Anne nodded, again tears puddled in her eyes as she was overwhelmed with joy. "I am indeed the most happy my love."

Anne leaned up and kissed Thomas on the cheek, nuzzling him a bit. "It's the greatest gift anyone's given me, thank you, my darling," with minimal help from him? She would not have conceived at all without Thomas! She glanced down at the baby and again brought a finger to his cheek. "So then...did we decide? Thomas Wyatt the Younger?"

Very carefully Wyatt repositioned the baby on his lap so that he could reach for Anne with one hand. He tugged a strand of messy hair behind her ear, then wiped those tears of happiness in the corner of her eye with his thumb.

"I think he's your gift to me, love. You made sure he grew healthy, and that you stayed strong enough to endure all that pain." He still shuddered to think of the screams he had heard.

As she asked about the name, Wyatt turned to look at the baby again. He had closed his eyes but every now and then a gurgling sound left his lips. That made Wyatt smile.

"Thomas... If that is the name you still prefer, that he shall be. Can I take him to see his grandfathers or should they be asked to come here?"

Anne smiled broader when Thomas reached to caress her cheek. She nodded before looking down to their dozing baby.

"He's a gift we gave each other," she compromised. He had been conceived in this very room, and now had been born in it as well.

The gurgling little sounds that the baby made had Anne swelling with joy. "Thomas it is then. He doesn't look like a Henry or a George."

With the exception of her hair, which Anne was certain would change, he looked like his father. "The castle is chilly, I would prefer they come here where it is warmer." She reached for the baby, ready to take him if Thomas wanted to fetch their fathers himself.

He could go by that compromise. The baby was the result of their mutual love.

Chuckling, Wyatt agreed. "No, not like George. He is Thomas." He let Anne take back the baby and rose up. For a little while he just watched the two of them but eventually leaned closer to kiss her.

"I will send your mother in first if you want to... get presentable." To him, she looked just lovely, but perhaps Anne wanted her mother to brush her hair and wash her face before the other men walked in.

His chest filled with pride, Wyatt made his way downstairs. His father handed him a wine goblet.

"Here, my son, let us make a toast to your son," Henry said smiling. Elizabeth had already spilled the news.

"Thomas Wyatt the Younger," Wyatt announced and nodded towards Thomas Boleyn. "In honor of my father-in-law." It was half-a-truth, knowing what Anne had said about her reasons. Boleyn was clearly pleased about that, if one could judge by his joyful cheer.

The men stayed behind, chatting and drinking their cups empty before being led to the bed chamber to greet the newborn.

Anne cradled the baby in her arms and kissed Thomas back as he leaned in. She smiled at his suggestion. "Thank you dearest, that would be wonderful."

As Thomas left, the baby stirred in her arms. Fussing again until his mother began rocking him. Elizabeth soon emerged with the biggest smile on her face. She brushed Anne's hair, securing it in a loose braid.

"So, Thomas the Younger?" She asked with a lilt to her tone.

"Indeed," Anne pushed the blanket away from the baby's face. "He's so small, mother."

"That'll change quickly darling," Elizabeth kissed Anne's forehead before she took a damp cloth and washed Anne's face. "He'll be walking and talking before long."

Soon the men entered the room and Elizabeth settled on the bed beside her daughter. Anne couldn't keep the smile off her face as the baby moved a but to try and look to locate the source of the sounds.

Behind the new grandfathers came Wyatt's mother and sister Margaret and they all took positions around the bedside. Wyatt himself sat on the other side of the bed from Elizabeth.

"I see it's a handsome boy and heir you've given us, dear Anne," Henry Wyatt praised. "We are grateful to have you both in our family."

Anne's father stepped closer and extended his hands towards to baby, wanting to hold him. "You did well, my daughter. May young Thomas be the first in a line of many sons that keep the alliance of the Boleyns and Wyatts a strong one."

"He's very pretty," Margaret shyly noted, leaning against her mother. She loved having Anne as her sister-in-law, even if they were quite different personality-wise.

"I have to send a word to George. Too bad he couldn't be here today," Wyatt mused. Uncle George would no doubt come to Allington as soon as possible.

((ooc: Do you think Anne breastfeeds the baby herself or are they going to have a wet nurse?))

Edited 2015-03-01 17:16 (UTC)

Elizabeth kissed Anne's forehead before standing up beside her husband - not wanting to crowd the new mother. Anne carefully leaned up and passed her son to her father. Thomas Boleyn held his grandson and grinned with pride. Anne inclined her head respectfully to Henry Wyatt when he addressed her.

"You're too kind as always, Sir Henry," she smiled. Her eyes then glanced to sweet Margaret, who always seemed to have some magical way of making her smile. "He enjoys being held and being sung to. You'll be able to hold him as much as you like as he grows."

"Thomas, the boy has other relatives who would like to hold him, don't hog him all to yourself," Elizabeth scolded her husband playfully. But he obeyed all the same and moved to offer the baby to Henry.

"Oh, Mary too!" Anne piped up at the mention of George. "Such a pity she couldn't join us."

((ooc: hmmm...well it seemed to be natural to her, she was surprised when Henry told her no, so I'm thinking yes? Even well-to-do as they are it's still more efficient for Anne to feed the baby herself?))

"And Mary, of course. I apologize." Wyatt leaned in to kiss Anne's cheek, slightly ashamed of forgetting to mention the the older Boleyn sister. He had never really gotten to know Mary who was less playful than the other two siblings. Besides, his mind had always been consumed by Anne.

"We shall wait for George, and Lady Mary and her family before we have a christening," Henry Wyatt promised to Boleyn as he took his grandson into his arms. "My, it's been some years that I've held a child this small." It felt awkward to him but so very welcome. He passed the bundle on to his wife but the boy started to protest at this time so he was swiftly handed back to his dear mother.

Wyatt spoke up then, with the confidence of a new father. "I believe we could use some peace and quiet now. Anne has had a long day, so if I could ask everyone else to leave..."

"Maybe you'll let me show my daughter how to care for the baby first?" Elizabeth asked, meaning - though not saying aloud - that Anne should try to feed little Thomas.

"Oh... yes... um, can I stay then?" Wyatt's confidence gave way to a confusion; he had not thought that far yet.

Anne, concerned for her fussing son, reached out for him and took the baby in her arms. Still she couldn't help herself but smile at Thomas's confidence - even if it faded at her own mother's words.

Once everyone was gone Elizabeth settled in to give her instructions. She nodded to Thomas, allowing him to stay. There wasn't much to learning how to care for the baby, Anne learned.

"If you push the cloth of your dress aside and expose your breasts, the baby already knows what to do, it's all instinct for him," Elizabeth smiled down at his fussy little face. "And he does indeed look hungry! Make sure he doesn't eat too much too quickly or he'll be sick."

Anne nodded and turned to pull her dress away, exposing a breast and lifting the baby up. She laughed in surprise when young Thomas immediately wrapped his mouth around a nipple and began to drink from her breast. Elizabeth stayed for a moment longer but soon left to give the young couple and their newborn some privacy.

"Thomas look! My God, this is all so incredible!" Anne smiled as she looked down at the baby. "I can't believe you're finally here, little love."

Wyatt had almost a grave expression as he watched Anne and the baby - their baby. She was right: it was all so incredible. With his eyes pressed shut, little Thomas sucked the breast and there was nothing else in the world for him. Wyatt found himself envying such pure and careless mind.

"Imagine... we have once been as small and as trusting," he whispered. "Now it is upon us to teach him how to live, and to love. The latter being an easy task."

He got into a more comfortable position on the bed next to his beloved and recited a poem he had composed for the occasion. Their lives would be very different from now on, as parents, not just as a young couple, but he was looking forward to every new day.

((ooc: Couldn't find an appropriate poem for now, so I simply imagine there must have been one or two. If you know any, I'd love to see it.))

Anne smiled as Thomas spoke and recited the poem aloud. Slowly she coaxed little Thomas to stop feeding so that she could burp him. Lifting the fussy little baby to her shoulder, Anne smiled to her husband. Her hand gently patted his back until the soft sound came forth. Then she let him settle in her arms again and allowed him to feed again.

"We were indeed," Anne watched young Thomas feed from her breast. "Well said, my love. Hopefully he's smart like his father and learns quickly."

Already she loved being a mother. "Thomas, he's so small..."

((ooc: Hmmm..."The Lover Describeth..." seems fitting, though he's most likely talking about a woman there - dare I say Anne? :) Link here: http://www.bartleby.com/255/4.html ))

He was in awe of how she already knew what to do and how to do it, but then again there was a fair amount of wonder he felt about a woman's life.

"Small he is, but surely you would not have wanted to carry a bigger baby? When I consider that... he doesn't look so small."

He reached for his son's tiny feet that were wrapped inside a blanket. It was the same blanket that both he and Margaret had used as a baby.

"Mother said a newborn baby needs milk every few hours and that I have to be mindful of how little sleep you'll be getting. I am sorry I can't help you with feeding him."

((ooc: That's pretty nice. I hadn't read it before.))

It was half instinct, half mother's instructions. Elizabeth Boleyn had told Anne precisely what needed to be done for the baby. The maids could change him and keep him dressed, but it was Anne's job to feed and bathe him.

She glanced up to Thomas with a smile. "Very true, very true."

Anne smiled broader as she looked down to the baby, who stared up at his mother in wonder. "Your father's a wise man. But be sure not to tell him."

She wasn't looking forward to late nights but she would do whatever she needed to for young Thomas. "My mother said I'll need to sleep whenever I can to make up for the sleep I'm going to lose."

"I can watch him when you sleep. After all, I can hardly take my eyes off of him. Or you, my love."

Little Thomas made a face again, squinting his eyes and letting out a funny sound. He drifted between being awake and asleep, on and off, happy and displeased almost at the same time. Wyatt delighted in watching how expressive the baby's face was. He hadn't anticipated that.

"I cannot explain how much I love you, but I hope you know it all the same," he said after kissing the side of her face again.

Anne didn't want to relinquish her newborn baby, but fatigue was indeed overwhelming her. She glanced down to their animated little one and kissed the top of his forehead.

"Mama does love you, little darling - but you've quite exhausted me for today," Anne chuckled and broke out into a grin as Young Thomas seemed to pout and wriggle in protest of her statement. As if denying his involvement in the reason for her fatigue.

Anne glanced up to Thomas as he kissed her cheek and she made to kiss the corner of his mouth. "If you could indeed take him, my love, I would be incredibly grateful - I just need to rest for a bit..." She moved a bit to allow him to take the baby.

Which she knew he understood. And she loved him for it. Anne moved to nuzzle her forehead against his; the tip of his nose brushing against her own. "I do know it. And I love you too - more than the sun and all the stars in heaven."

Young Thomas made another sharp sound that drew Anne's attention. Anne chuckled a bit as she leaned down to kiss his little forehead again. "Fret not, for I love you just as much, my dearest little heart."

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