Poison Ivy

~ Hello. This will be my first ever piece of fiction for Reign and I'm so excited. I decided to do something with Kash (Kenna and Bash) because while I literally ship almost every single ship in this show (seriously, every ship is just simply amazing) my favourite has to be these two. They have such an interesting relationship, and it's not all meet-cute and sweet, it's more raw and intense, and I always prefer that sort of entanglement, so yeah, here's a Kash one-shot. I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it! ~

Summary - She began to tangle herself in his warmth, sheathing her sylphlike arms around his sinewy body, tightly, like poisoned ivy wrapping itself around a perishing tree. "Can you see yourself loving me?" (Kennash drabble)

Disclaimer - I do not own the characters or anything involved with the fandom whatsoever.

(Set after the consummation of Sebastian and Kenna in season 1 episode 19; Toy Soldiers.)

Her fingers, thin and splayed, tapped idly against his delightfully sinewy chest, pressing into the artistic concavities that trailed along his body, fingertips drumming softly in a symmetrical rhythm with the incessant throbbing of his munificent heart. Kenna found herself wondering if her mere touch was enough to make his heart pulsate in such a way, or if she had simply tired him out from their earlier consummation. Her breathing wasn't exactly methodical either; more spasmodic and reckless. She had imagined it, a copious amount of times, imagined what it would be like to bed the ever-so-handsome and charming Sebastian de Poitiers. Bash, after all, was incredibly good-looking, and his grin could so effortlessly light up an entire ballroom like the fourth of July, and his towering body was taut with discernible muscles that made him look strong and courageous. Surely he would be marvelous in the bedroom, she surmised. It wasn't until she was forced into marriage with him that Kenna finally found an answer to the question that had formed and pondered inside of her mind ever since her arrival to France; and the answer was, yes, Sebastian de Poitiers was a magnificent lover.

As she watched her fingertips pitter pattering against Sebastian's burning hot skin, she found her jaded eyes drawn to the ghastly band that rested against her fourth finger. At the time in which he had gifted her the ring, she had seen it as a beautiful yet a rather unfortunate gesture - predominantly because she would have much preferred something encrusted with more finer and extortionate jewels. Only now, now she saw it as an unspoken promise, a promise that Sebastian would always at least try to make their marriage seem natural as opposed to their union appearing effortless and utterly forced upon them.

The band was a symbol of sorts; a certainty that had burned its way into Kenna's heart and embedded in her bones. She may not have wanted him, at least not in such a final way, but she was Kenna de Poitiers now, and she would forever survey the ring and be given hope that if Sebastian was trying so valiantly to make their marriage work, that maybe it could. Maybe they could be happy one day.

She raked her eyes over his, observed the side of his prominent face and took notice of the fact that while his respiring was beginning to decelerate, he was still wide awake and had not yet drifted off to sleep. She didn't customarily converse after copulation, however there was a still a question etched into her subconscious; a question in which she both craved and feared the answer to - but Kenna prided herself on being courageous, on not holding herself back from speaking whatever may be on her mind. She wasn't planning to lose that part of herself just because Sebastian made her tongue hold still and her mind fill with reservation.

"Sebastian," Kenna leisurely retracted her palm from his chest as she called out his name. She felt her breath hitch inside of her throat as she awaited his response; and she was unsure of why (why he made her feel so ill at ease all of the damned time).

"Bash," He murmured in return, his eyes still remaining trapped onto the faintly cracked ceiling - their ceiling of their bedchambers because they were wed before their King and before God and there was no changing that - not ever - death will only do them part. "Surely Sebastian is too formal for a wife."

"Alright. Bash," She reiterated the abbreviation, inwardly reveling at how naturally and aesthetically his name slipped from her painted pink lips. "May I ask you something?"

His adam's apple rose and fell visibly as he swallowed, although his visage remained as impassive as ever. "Go ahead."

"Can you, um-" She felt a fervent exhale rip from her lungs, and she wasn't certain if the action was due to her thumping, intermittent heart, or the nervousness that was descending into her bloodstream from the sound of his gracious, guttural voice. "Bash," She ran her tongue across her bottom lip. "Can you see yourself loving me?"

At that, Sebastian's head dropped to the side, facing Kenna's in a direct way, his rough cheek that was adorned with dark stubble resting against the cotton pillow while his scintillating blue eyes drowned in her coffee brown irises. His gaze crawled over her tanned skin and her sculptured cheek-bones and her compressed lips; and he was suddenly consumed with a sense of adoration for his wife that he couldn't quite fathom. Kenna was so fiery and feral and impossible, but she was prepossessing and there was a kindness to her that was worthy of adoration.

"When we wed, I was unsure if I would be able to tolerate you, never mind love you," Sebastian admitted as easily as breathing, watching as a crestfallen countenance replaced Kenna's earlier inquisitiveness. "However," He drew the word out on an exhale of breath. "Over the time that we have spent with one another recently, I'm thinking that perhaps I might."

Kenna's wild heart hammered faster and faster against the constricting cage of her ribs and she wanted to caress it and tell it not to get ahead of itself. This was, so far, an entirely loveless marriage, and while she knew that, of course, she wanted more, she also knew that love was a very difficult thing to come by, and she would have to be awfully fortunate to share it with another - especially someone like her husband, Sebastian, considering she was adamant in the notion that his heart belonged to another (to her Queen).

"Perhaps?" She found herself asking in a subdued susurrate, while mentally drowning in the absolutely idyllic concept that he may love her one day.

"Perhaps." He repeated, simultaneously examining every inch of Kenna's hopeful, optimistic gaze.

She nodded, her head nestling further against the pillow that sat underneath her sun-kissed cheek and her cascading waterfall of rich mahogany hair, attempting to retain a physiognomy of nonchalance, though failing miserably if the slight curve of his lips had anything to say about it. "Well then," She coughed deliberately, hoping to rid the horrid scratch that was tearing apart her throat. How he managed to make her so neurotic, she'd never know. "Perhaps we may make this marriage work after all."

Sebastian's curve transformed into a spacious, full-teeth smile that caused Kenna's skin to ache with burns and shock waves of electricity and goosebumps - because, oh, he was so devastatingly gorgeous, as she had been fully aware of since the moment in which she first laid eyes on him. "Well then," He mimicked her earlier words and stared at her lips, watching as they played at a smile of their own. "I suppose we will just have to try."

Kenna bit down on her lower lip and met his gaze from behind heavy eyelashes. "I will if you will?"

Her question was met with an utterly mesmeric kiss as Sebastian raised his shoulders, leaned closer into Kenna's proximity, and consumed her lips with his. Her limbs commenced to automatically shift under his towering frame as she drew her gracile anatomy into his unfamiliar embrace, and she began to tangle herself in his warmth, sheathing her sylphlike arms around his sinewy body, tightly, like poisoned ivy wrapping itself around a perishing tree. Their lips anchored together in a kiss so passionate and so psychedelic that it threatened to steal away each of their last breaths until it came close to asphyxiating them from the lack of oxygen.

As she ran her hand across the hot skin of his back, Kenna felt her wedding band pressing deeper into her finger and her lips curved into a smile against Sebastian's. While it was modest - an insipid ring at best - it was a gift that came from him - from her husband - and she promised herself that she would cherish it until her dying breath, because while their marriage could not be undone, their resent for one another could, and the band was proof of that.

The ring slipped from her frame of thought as she felt the tingling sensation of Sebastian's lips dragging against her skin, crawling down the swell of her collar-bone, and she allowed her eyes to roll back inside of her head until they stung and burned because he was capable of making her feel things that no other had ever been able to.

(want, need, desire, ache, craving)

She tossed her fingertips through his disheveled mess of chocolate-brown hair and wrapped her fingers around his cranium, bringing him closer to her skin, deeper into her neck, and once again she began to cogitate. She had consummated the marriage (and, oh, had it been a marvelous pursuit) but she knew what was supposed to come next -love- and she also knew that she could so easily fall in love with him. Sebastian was her type, after all, not that she tended to follow her inner preferences. And the way that he so visibly cared for her was enough to make even the most unattainable of people fall deeply for him, but she would always be waiting for the day in which Sebastian would fall in love with her - wondered if he could love her insides as well as her outsides.

When his lips connected with the conspicuous creases of her forehead, Kenna plummeted back into the reality around her, blinking her eyes back open, and she released a breath that she hadn't been aware she had imprisoned inside. She had been so lost in her damned insecurities that she hadn't noticed that his lips had abandoned her neck until then. With a raised chin, she tipped her head backwards and forced his eyes to meet hers, and she searched his endless pools of blue; searched for something other than lust. And she did find something else, eventually, but it wasn't quite love. To her, it looked more like unbridled adoration.

(she could work with that)

(after all, what is adoration without a little love?)

~ Thank you for taking the time to read this drabble, and I hope that you enjoyed it :) ~

Review, please?