Chapter Text
Prolog
If half the people who ran their mouths in the tabloids about her and her opinion on pregnancy had been pregnant themselves, they would undoubtedly talk differently. Maybe then they would realise that even if pregnancy was displayed as all sunshine and the best thing to happen to a wife, it actually wasn't. And even if pregnancy itself wasn't difficult, in the end, there was still the birth.
The reward for nine months of bloody hormones, morning sickness, swollen feet and whatnot was pushing out a human being the size and weight of a small watermelon through one's vagina. It was about as much fun as it sounded and fucking painful too. But woe betide a woman who admitted that pregnancy and birth were not her favourite pastimes in the world.
Anne wished half the men had to go through that at least once as another contraction took hold of her. Taking in slow and deep breaths, Anne gripped the book in her hands tighter, but this was a bad one and lasted fucking forever. Throwing the book aside, she grabbed the cushions on the sofa tightly until the contraction finally began to lessen. The last few contractions had been too close together for her likening. Whether Anne wanted to or not, she would give birth today, and she would definitely do so in a hospital and not at St. James Palace.
"Bloody hell, you better not make this even more difficult than it already is, or I'll give you an embarrassing middle name!" Anne murmured towards her belly as she waddled her way towards the desk and the phone to call her driver and lady in waiting.
Her next call was to Gatcomb, and Anne wasn't surprised when their housekeeper, Julia, answered the phone.
"Hello Julia, is Mark around?"
"Hello, Ma'am, no Mr. Philips left two hours ago," Julia answered, and this time, it was Anne's heart that clenched painfully. She silenced the voices in her head as quickly as they appeared; Mark wouldn't; he knew she could have the baby any day now; he had only gone to Gatcomb to check on his new horse. He was probably just doing some work on the farm. But there was still a tiny voice in her head telling Anne she was just lying to herself; this voice accompanied her for years now and kept telling her she knew exactly what her husband was doing.
Anne did not want to ask, fearing the voice would be correct again, but she still did.
"Did he tell you where he was going?" Anne asked against better knowledge when she felt another contraction coming.
"No, Ma'am, he did not. Do you want me to try and get a hold of him?" Julia asked, but it took Anne a moment to answer through the contraction. The pain only partly worked as a distraction from what her housekeeper had said.
"Yes, tell him to get to St. Mary's Hospital quick. His child decided today is the day, and he better be there."
"Oh! I'll do my very best to reach Mr. Philips, Ma'am. All the strength and luck to you, Ma'am. I'll pray for an easy birth and your well-being." Julia told her, she really was a blessing. Anne knew she would do everything in her power to get to Mark, and if she weren't in such pain, she would tell Julia a heartfelt thanks and that her kind and honest words were appreciated. At least Anne knew in the end that their personal staff was more devoted to her, not Mark since he was mostly indifferent towards them.
But at that moment, Anne only managed to utter a quick thanks before slamming the handset down, groaning in pain. While Anne tried to breathe through the pain, her mind wandered back to her husband, back to the doubt. If he was fucking another woman while she was in labour with his child, Anne honestly didn't know if their marriage, hell, if their relationship, could survive that.
There always came a point of no return, and if Mark was indeed such a stupid bastard, then Anne had reached hers.
A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Fiona, her lady-in-waiting, walked inside.
"Ma'am, your bag has been put in the car, which is now ready to take you to the hospital."
"Let's go then." Anne simply replied and made her way over to Fiona, only to abruptly stop beside the other woman as her water broke.
"Oh, for fuck's sake!"
Almost six hours later, Anne was ready to tear the damn hospital room apart. She was exhausted, in pain, and she desperately wanted that baby out of her right fucking now. On top of that, her useless excuse of a husband was nowhere to be found; six fucking hours, and he was still not here. Nobody knew where he was. Fiona had spent the last few hours trying to find Mark, calling everyone who might know where he was, but with no success.
She had thought that she couldn't think any less of him but that he was actually missing the birth of his own child. Even Anne hadn't thought he could stoop that low. She had never regretted marrying Mark as much as in that moment; the only positive from their six years of marriage was Peter and the baby. Anne had never thought it possible for Mark to hurt her this much, having thought his affairs were the worst he could do.
As she entered the final stage of labour, Anne called for Fiona one last time to ask if she had reached Mark. Her companion of nearly ten years couldn't look Anne in the eyes as she answered.
"Yes, he called back. He said he will be on his way soon but can't tell when he will be here." Anne couldn't believe what she heard. He would be on his way soon? Did he care so little about her and their child? Whatever their problems were, she had never imagined he would just not care about his child. He wasn't a bad father to Peter, so why?
"Get out!" Anne told Fiona through teeth clenched in pain from the latest contraction. Anne was never deliberately rude to her staff, and she didn't mean it, but she couldn't stand the look of pity on Fiona's face, who curtsied and left as she was told.
So, Anne gave birth to her daughter on her own, her sole support being a nurse she had never seen before and would never see again. She would never admit it, but the tears that gathered in her eyes were not because of the physical pain.
Then, all thoughts of Mark and their marriage were gone, as was the feeling of relief and happiness, because instead of hearing congratulations and the first cries of her daughter, there was only concerned medical talk and silence.
"What is wrong? Is she alright?" Anne asked but received no answer. She then tried to move to get a look at her baby, but the nurse next to her pushed her down, doing so even as Anne tried to shake her off. Anger and fear began to rise in her; what was wrong with her baby? And why the hell was nobody telling her what was going on? It had taken Peter a moment or two to cry, and they hadn't behaved like that.
"You will tell me right now if something is wrong with my daughter!" Anne demanded, trying to put the usual authority in her voice, but exhausted from birth, it just wasn't the same, and she was still ignored, apart from the nurse holding her down. Then, her doctor handed a bundle to the nurse beside him, who hurried out of the room while all Anne could do was watch.
"Wait! What is happening?" she looked at the young nurse next to her, "Please."
"She's not breathing on her own, Ma'am, but she's got the best people taking care of her." Anne didn't hear anything after the first few words. She wasn't one to panic; she didn't panic when a lunatic tried to kidnap her and shot four people. But now Anne did panic; when told her daughter was not breathing, a kind of fear and panic took hold of Anne she had never known before in her life.
Before she had realised what she was doing, Anne tried to get up, her pain and exhaustion forgotten. Another nurse joined in to hold her down, and once again, Anne fought them.
"Ma'am, you must lay down; you need to rest."
"Stay, Ma'am, there is nothing you can do. Let them do their work."
"Ma'am, you still have to deliver the afterbirth!" Anne heard their words but couldn't care less.
"I don't give a fuck, leave me the hell alone, I want to see my daughter!" Anne screamed at them, but her fight died down rather quickly as she just couldn't muster the strength. Feeling new tears of a whole other heartbreak well in her eyes, she pushed their hands away and buried her face in her own.
This could not be happening. Why was that happening? Anne had believed that the miscarriages she had before and after Peter were the worst things she could go through as a mother. But this was so much worse. Apart from her general struggle with pregnancy, nothing had been out of the ordinary; she had always been told she and the baby were perfectly healthy! Had she done something wrong? Was this her fault?
The minutes until she heard her daughter cry from the other room would be etched into Anne's memory as the worst ones in her life so far. Anne looked at the nurse who had stayed with her the whole birth, and before she could say a word, the young woman nodded and left her side to look after her daughter.
When she returned with a smile, part of Anne's worry disappeared, hoping it meant her daughter was fine or at least not in serious danger anymore.
"She's breathing on her own now and making good work of her lungs! They still need to keep a close eye on her and do a couple of tests to ensure she has no more trouble breathing, and then you can see her, Ma'am!" Anne let go of the breath she had unknowingly been holding.
"Wonderful, now let's focus on you again, Ma'am; once we take care of the afterbirth, I'm sure they will bring her back to you," the other nurse next to Anne told her with a reassuring smile.
Whether by luck or years of experience, the nurse had been right. Once the damn afterbirth was out and they had cleaned Anne up a little, her young nurse stepped through the door with her bundled-up daughter in her arms. After what felt like an eternity, she finally got to see and hold her daughter.
She was simply beautiful, just like her brother had been. Her daughter's eyes were closed, but Anne knew they were blue; her lips were pulled into an adorable pout, and there was a fine peach fuzz of white-blonde hair like Anne had at her own birth.
"Your daughter is doing well now, Ma'am. The doctor found no serious medical reason for why she wasn't breathing. Sometimes, those things sadly happen. However, the timeframe was thankfully one where no later physical or mental issues are expected. We will check on her a little more regularly before you are allowed to leave, but if everything stays like it is now, there's no reason for you not to go home in a few days."
Even if she didn't want to, Anne tore her eyes away from her daughter and looked at the young nurse.
"What's your name?"
"What? Oh! My name is Elizabeth, Ma'am." Anne couldn't help but snort at the reveal, shaking her head in amusement, but she grew serious again a moment later.
"Thank you for everything, Elizabeth," Anne said, and she meant it; as pathetic as it was, she was thankful this stranger had been there for her during the birth, and she hadn't been left all alone.
"No need to thank me, Ma'am. It was my pleasure, and congratulations on your beautiful daughter."
"Thank you," Anne paused momentarily, seeking the right words. "Since you have been here from the beginning, you witnessed the whole drama around my husband. I- would like for that not to be public knowledge; in fact, I would like nobody to speak of it at all, no one, not even to the royal Family. Nobody. Could you see to that?"
"Of course, Ma'am." Elizabeth left with a small smile and a clumsy curtsy, leaving Anne alone with her daughter. Gently stroking over her baby's soft cheek, Anne spent the time in awe of her daughter. After a few minutes on their own, the little one began to wake up in search of her first meal.
"How come I did most of the work and you're the one who gets to eat first?" Anne teased as she successfully latched her on; at least that was easier than with Peter. It had taken her forever to breastfeed him; in fact, so long she had been close to giving up.
"I recall telling you not to make this more difficult, sweetling, so I will think about an embarrassing middle name. Also I'm the stubborn one in our family, okay? We will have to find something else for you; being adorable will only get you so far. Well, it will certainly help with your uncles and grandfather. They'll try to spoil you rotten." Anne whispered to her daughter while the baby just stared back at her unimpressed.
Once finished with nursing, Anne felt the exhaustion and tiredness taking hold of her. At the same time, she didn't want to let go of her daughter just yet, who had fallen back asleep in her mother's arms.
A knock on her door pulled Anne out of her thoughts; at first, she thought it would be a nurse, but then it struck her that it might be Mark, and fury rose inside her. But before she could answer, the door already opened, and the person who stuck their head in was the last Anne would have ever expected to be here.
"Charles? What are you doing here?" Her older brother stepped inside and closed the door behind him before slowly moving towards her.
"Well, I'm here because my little sister had a baby," Charles answered with a smile before he leaned over her to get a first look at his niece. "Congratulations, Anne, so does Peter have a little brother or sister?"
"I'm afraid Andrew won the bet; it's a girl," Anne answered, watching as a big smile appeared on her older brother's lips as he looked at his niece again.
"She is beautiful. How are you doing?" Anne debated if she should answer regarding her physical or emotional well-being, only to come to the conclusion she was a wreck regarding both.
"I just spend a couple hours trying to push a damn watermelon out of my body, I'm absolutely knackered. While I appreciate it, why are you here, Charles? Even if you were notified that I was having the baby, it still doesn't explain why you are here."
Her older brother remained suspiciously quiet, and Anne was about to ask if he had understood what she had said when he replied.
"Your lady in waiting called. She told me that he wasn't there and that she had been trying to reach him for hours, but nobody knew where he was. So, I dropped everything and drove here. I'm sorry I was too late."
Her brother apologised for not being able to be at least a moral support and missing the birth of his niece, while her husband was probably fucking another woman, not caring about the birth of his child. That was the last straw for Anne. So, she did something she hadn't done in the presence of her brother since she was a little girl. She cried.
"I married a fucking bastard!" Anne said with a humourless laugh as tears ran down her cheeks. Coming to face the downfall of her relationship with her husband and her own stupidity regarding her choice of men. Charles wasn't entirely surprised by the unusual emotional outburst of his sister; he had expected it a long time ago, but he still laid his arm around her and gently pulled her against him.
"I had to ask Fiona to find my husband while giving birth to his child! He had six hours to get here! Six bloody hours! And then he calls and just says he will be here sometime like it was a bloody dinner he was late to! While he was sleeping with another woman, his daughter was born, and that bastard might have never even met her because she wasn't breathing!"
"What?" Charles had wanted to allow Anne to get everything off her chest but couldn't stop himself, shocked when he heard his niece hadn't been breathing. He had never liked Mark, and while Charles had often toyed with the idea of punching his brother-in-law for what he was doing to his sister, it took Charles a lot of self-restraint not to leave in search of Mark to deck him.
"When she was born, she wasn't breathing. They took her away to care for her before I could even see her, and no one would tell me what was going on. I thought she was going to die. They thankfully got her to breathe, but those were the worst moments of my life, Charles. And I was alone. I wanted him to be there, even if I was furious with him, he was supposed to be here. And he wasn't, not by accident or anything, but by his own will and choice."
"The very best part is, I will have to stay married to him, and there is nothing I can do."
"No, you don't," Charles told his sister, who wiped her tears away with her free hand before looking at him like he was daft.
"There is no way in hell I'll be allowed to divorce him, Charles." She couldn't get her hopes up, only to have them smashed again. Anne knew everybody would tell her to stick it out, that many went through the same, just smile, stay quiet, and look the other way. What would his presence at the birth have really changed? He was a man; many men were absent from the birth; what was there to whine about?
"There would be a chance if you told Mummy what he has been up to, and if they find out he-"
"They won't! It wouldn't be enough for them to let me divorce him, and I will not be humiliated like that in front of my own family; I won't be Margot 2.0. On top of that, sooner or later, something will reach public ears, as it always does with that kind of thing. What a surprise, the husband of the frumpy and dumpy Princess rather prefers half the Commonwealth in his bed. We always said she couldn't keep a man, nobody wants her after all."
"Don't do that, Anne," Charles told her, part of his great dislike of the media were their merciless bashing of his sister's character and looks. Anne took a deep breath; and before he could say something else, she spoke up again.
"Promise me you won't tell anybody that he wasn't here for the birth. He will come eventually; we will do the stunt for the public and leave together. Nobody will know." The tone of his little sister told him she was serious about this and asking for his support.
"Fine, as long as you promise me, I can have a talk with whatever is left of Mark when you are finished with him," Charles said, and Anne smiled. He then reached out to stroke over his niece's tiny hand. She was absolutely adorable, and Charles swore to himself that he would never let anybody hurt her, least of all her useless father. And if Anne wanted to or not, he was going to spoil his niece rotten, like any good uncle was supposed to.
"Do you have a name for her?"
"We haven't decided," Anne replied, shifting her daughter a little in her arms. She and Mark had decided to wait until the baby was born to settle on a name.
"Zara."
"What? Where did you get that from?" Anne asked; in a family full of traditional names that were reused every couple of generations, the name Zara would stand out like a sore thumb.
"I like it. It has multiple nice meanings: bright as the dawn, bloom, flower, brilliant," Charles paused, "Princess," he added with a smile.
"Pick what you like best." Anne remained quiet for a while, looking at her daughter. The longer she thought about it, the better she liked the name. Zara.
"Zara." Anne tried the name out loud, and at the same moment, her daughter grabbed a hold of her uncle's fingertip. They had already teamed up against her, it seemed, but at the same time, it somehow just felt right; she was her daughter, her new dawn.
"Zara it is then." Even if he had suggested it, Charles hadn't thought his sister would just agree to his name suggestion, certainly not that quickly.
"Really? Since when do you just agree with anything I suggest?" he asked and received an elbow to his ribs. "Are you sure he will accept it as well?"
"Zara is my daughter. I carried her on my own, I gave birth to her on my own, and I feared for her life on my own, so I damn well will name her on my own. He did forfeit the right to decide anything regarding my daughter when he chose to miss her birth."
"While he is my husband and will likely stay my husband, that doesn't mean, as we well know, that we have to be in a relationship or that I have to forgive him or even listen to him."
"I will have a front seat on the day he tells you that you must listen to him. Though I reckon that spectacle won't last a minute." Charles joked before he got up and looked down at his beloved sister.
"I'll let you rest now. I'm proud of you, and I will always support you, Anne."
"Thank you." For the second time that day, Anne meant these words more than she had before in her life. With a last smile for his new niece and a kiss on Anne's cheek, he left her alone.
Looking back down at her daughter, Anne knew that she certainly didn't need Mark to be a good mother to their children. Anne would be fine on her own.
"We'll be fine, sweetling. You, Peter and I will do fine on our own."
Thank you for reading, thoughts and criticism are welcome !