Disclaimer: I do not own Reign.

A/N: First, I wanted to take the time to thank my wonderful beta Marie Meyers, she did a meticulous job: she made me re-write, rearrange and cut out part by part! Second, I apologize in advance for the layout: I kept trying to edit the story in my Doc Manager but it wouldn't *sigh*, will try to edit it later. Last, my inspiration for this fic was Ed Sheeran's album especially song number 13. Autumn Leaves.

A Parting Gift

Their meeting six years ago was a very dear memory to him. She was his first real friend, the only distraction from a secluded life in his mother's castle. His mother was seldom there, and his father, he didn't know him.

He rarely left the castle because of the murmurs; in town. Behind his back, they were everywhere. Their domain, the forest, were his sacred place, when his mother would come back from the court, she would tell him to wait- that these murmurs would stop and they would be together.

She lived in the convent an hours ride away from the castle. The nuns came to town once a week to sell various goods they produced: they would stop by the castle to deliver cheese, milk, … and sometime she came with them.

That day, Sebastian had snuck out early for a reason other than disinterest; market day. The market day wasn't only a commercial day, but also a gathering where everybody feasted together: lord, peasant, servant, … it didn't matter. He wasn't a bastard little lord anymore but a little boy like every other, now marveling at the tanned fakir holding the longest snake he had never seen, or astonished at terrifying bears performing small tricks.

Admiring hunting knives laid on a stall, he heard a clamor coming from the center of the place, near the fountain. Curious to see which wonder was the cause of this commotion, he made his way through the crowd. And there she was: dancing among people clapping and kids cheering.

They would sometime join her for a step and the girl would happily oblige with elegance. Dancing like nothing mattered, bare foot, twirling, hands in air, her thick black hair floating. The more he observed her, the less isolated he felt: for at this moment, she personified freedom.

When the music had stopped, the crowd had scattered and she had disappeared; he had felt lonelier than ever.

From this day on, Sebastian sat in the castle study each week, heart pounding, to catch a glimpse of her. It was the only room with windows with which he could view the front entrance. He watched the arc shaped gate for the bartering nuns. Hoping that among the goods they brought with them, the dark haired girl would be there.

Sebastian had gone out riding in the forest. A much needed break for his mind after a heavy history course. He also felt frustrated after waiting in vain all morning for the nuns whom didn't come.

As he headed for the stables holding his steed by the bridle, he was taken aback to find her, sitting in her usual spot unaccompanied. The young girl had been deep in her book but look up when he came near to her, and the dark eyes that stared back at him rooted him to his spot. Unsure of what to do, he stood there, speechless.

"Your horse is beautiful" she had said, but to Sebastian her voice seemed to carry a wistfulness. Clumsily, he tried to bow being taught that is what to do when addressing to a Lady, which the young boy had no doubt she was. He heard her laugh. But mimicking him, had lowered her head, grabbed the edge of her dress, pulling both sides gently. Her feet were crossed and her knees were bent as she performed the most gracious and beautiful gesture he had ever seen. For in that moment, she looked like a swan; and Sebastian felt very much like an ugly duckling.

Petting his mount forehead, contemplative, she confided about rides she remembered across greener land. The smell of grass covered in morning dew, the sun dawning on rolling landscape. Her beautiful eyes were detached, her whole being elicited empathy to Sebastian, whom familiar with that feeling, made it his duty to improve her mood. The boy bluntly uttered words that startled him:

"I look forward to your next visit."

Half surprised, half amused, she tilted her head to the side. Encouraged by her reaction he added:

"My horse will be yours, it is known to be the fastest in the earldom. If you ride fast enough," he went on, "you will see: when galloping through the leaves during days of Autumn, it feels like flying through fire."

Her black pupils lit up with enthusiasm, he knew he had succeeded. The time came to part; the new friendship was sealed with the promise to meet at the same location.

A ray of sunshine pierced through the trees, straight in his eye, and he was back to the present, as they silently enjoyed their last walk together in the forest, him beside her, arms crossed behind back.

Her name was Mary. Enough years had gone by now, allowing Sebastian to reminisce why he enjoyed only her companionship. She was the sole girl he could gallop side by side with, whom screams wouldn't be of fear but of delight; not minding her unruly black strand of hair; her eyes marveling at the beautiful scenery.

These days were long gone, and with Spring, rides would usually end at nearby a clearing. In this safe heaven, away from everything, time would suspend its course on these stolen moments; they would play, or read to one another.

He was always amazed at how she would be sitting like a lady, book in hand, posture majestic, and yet soon after attack him with a stick sword pretending to be a knight. She was one of a kind: passionate, yet discreet, refined but free, obstinate yet caring.

In the course of their relationship, he had came to understand she was particular. But he never questioned her for they had naturally reached a tacit understanding; no questions were to be asked about the past, or the future. All that mattered was the present.

Mary never questioned him either: the absence of his mother, the lack of a father or his bastard status; all these issues that hurt him, she needn't know. When he was depressed because he had to see his mother leave once again, she didn't pity him, she would just tell him quasi matter-of-factly, "But you have me".

His heart wasn't allowed to see her as a woman; their relationship transcended that, they were each other's home.

And now she was departing. He eventually knew the time to be apart would come; still, it came too fast. He sometimes watched her from the corner of his eyes. She walked with her head high in pride, even though she was leaving everything that was familiar to her. She suddenly broke the silence and faced him:

- Do you remember that time we kissed?

Sebastian stopped, not so sure what his friend meant. The words were said so serenely, yet he had not a single memory of such an occurrence. He studied her face disconcerted to detect a hint of humor, but before he could say anything Mary was on her toes, hands on his shoulders. planting a kiss on his lips.

Startled, he didn't move, simply closed his eyes, letting the fact that she wanted him sink in. When their mouths pulled away, she intently looked at him. The first time he allowed himself to notice the beautiful woman she had become. How full her lips appeared; how deep her brown eyes were; and how he could maybe, just once, allow himself to get lost in them, and dare to want her.

He brought his right hand to her cheek, and closed the gap between them once again capturing her lips with his.

She parted her lips consciously and the caress of her tongue sent shivers over his body while he felt her grip tightening on his neck. He brought his other hand to her waist to pull her closer, to feel her against him while his other hand stroked her hair.

Sebastian was more experienced, this much was true. But he had never experienced this before. The feeling of being fully wanted.

Nothing mattered anymore, except them: Mary and Sebastian. A recollection of awkward moments, conveniently forgotten, flashed in his mind:

She had cut her fingers while picking up roses. Instinctively, he had sucked it to stop the bleeding; abruptly she had claimed her finger back diverting her gaze, a rush of redness coloring her cheek.

During the Christmas feast, hidden in the stables, inebriated by the flask of wine they had stolen, she had wiped a strand of hair from his eyes, telling him how beautiful they were. Her simple gestured had rendered him wordless, him, the adolescent known for his sweet talk to ladies.

In the course of the heated summer in southern France, she had insisted they jumped into the river fully dressed. Moments later, she had emerged, similar to a goddess-the mass of black hair cascading on her shoulders, her white linen dress, stuck to her body and leaving little to the imagination. He had to immerge himself in the cold water to hide his body's reaction to this vision.

Reluctantly, they stopped kissing and rested for a few minutes, foreheads touching. From that moment, the young man realized she had stolen his heart long ago. He brought both hands to cup her face, each of her hands resting on his wrists, both taking the time to come back to reality. He planted one last kiss on her lips, took her hands and lowered his head to kiss them also.

Goodbye Sebastian. She said this simply with a faint smile. Her first kiss was her parting gift to him. A memory nobody could take away from him. For he had been there for her, always. She turned around and one last time she curtsied; it was still as beautiful as ever, gracious like when she was ten. Now she was ready to open the new chapter of her life.

Goodbye Mary, he said bowing properly, like she had taught him to do. He waited until she vanished from his view. In reality, long after she had disappeared, he couldn't find it in him to leave that place. He felt the sudden urge to call out for her yet again, to run after her, pull her into another embrace and tell her that he'd wait for her, that if she didn't want to leave they could run away together like the lovers of stories.

However, he very much knew he wasn't a child anymore; and like she had found the strength to perform her duty, he also owed it to Mary to let her go.

The End.