Strength

[A/N] This is set after "Drowning," so I recommend that you read that, but this fic also functions as a standalone. If you have not read it, Bash is dead and this is the aftermath.

"Lift your eyes up, discouraged one.

Keep moving forward until your battles have been won."

Mary had seldom felt so alone, so broken. She was alone in her chambers now, away from the druid messenger and her brother's arms, and she felt as if she would never stop crying. She had given herself this time to give into her grief and weep over the death of her dearest, truest friend before she had to pick up the pieces of her broken heart and be queen once more.

She felt weak. The strength that she needed to have as queen was gone. The pillar of strength that Bash had been for her had gone, and he had taken every bit of her own willpower with him.

What was she meant to do without him? She lost everything she loved. Bash, Lola, Francis, Louis, Greer, Kenna. Everyone left her in the end. Even Catherine was an entire ocean away from her.

"I was terrified. But you? You were fearless - standing up to the rulers of France again and again with a fire that I'd never seen. Fighting for us, for aid, for troops, for Scotland."

"That girl who knew no fear? I am not her anymore."

"No. You are wiser and stronger. Remember that strength that so many have tried to take from you. It is in you still, my friend, my queen."

Lola's words had rung in Mary's mind for some time, long after her friend's dead at the hands of Elizabeth. Lola had had a faith in Mary that she had so often failed to have in herself. So many people did. She had to try and believe them.

And Bash. Oh, how she missed him. His death still felt unreal in so many ways. He had possessed such an unfailing faith in her, one she had never understood.

"Brave Mary. Strong Mary," he had told her as she wept against him helplessly.

Francis. He had told her so often how strong, how brave, how beautiful she was. If only he was here to put her back together as he so often had. "You are the strongest person I have ever known. You have the heart of a warrior."

Mary shook her head, tears falling freely. It wouldn't help her now to think back on their words, not when they were all gone and the words turning to ash, but she couldn't stop them coming.

Greer. One of her oldest friends, lost to her just as everyone else was. Far away somewhere in a chateau with Castleroy at her side.

"And you are strong, Mary."

"I don't feel strong. I feel like I'm sleepwalking, and I don't know how to wake up."

She wanted Catherine here at her side. The other woman possessed a ferocity and strength, a power within herself that Mary had never been able to rival. She shouldn't have left France. If she hadn't, if she had stayed there with Bash, perhaps he would still be alive now. But Catherine would undoubtedly tell her to pull herself together and move on.

Your love. It brought him so much joy, and that is what you must remember as you move ahead in this life.

Move ahead? I don't know how.

I'm confident that you will find a way. Maybe not today, or tomorrow, but you will find a way. You are so strong, Mary. So strong.

Yes. The words had been about Francis, but they could apply to Bash now as well, in so many ways. Mary pressed a hand to her mouth to stifle another sob and took a deep, unsteady breath. She had to stop. She had meetings to attend, advisors to speak to, and arrangements to make for Bash.

It was the queen that had to be in control now, not the woman, not the girl.

So Mary wiped her tears, summoned the last shreds of her inner strength, and held together the pieces of the hole in her heart. She could keep her head together for just a little while longer.

She was strong. She had to believe it.