Author's Note: I know, it's been done before. I know. But I wanted vows and I doubt Mash will get them in the show anytime soon and I want them now. So I wrote them. The bit in italics is a modified version of an oath of fealty said to James I, Mary's son.
Fealty
"I do swear from my heart that I will bear faith and true allegiance to her Majesty, her I will defend to the uttermost of my power, against all conspiracies and attempts whatsoever, which shall be made against her or her person, her crown and dignity, by reason or color of any such sentence or declaration or otherwise. And I do make this recognition and acknowledgement heartily, willingly, and truly, upon the true faith of a Christian: So help me God."
She is right on time, as he knew she would be. When he lays eyes on her, the butterflies that have been fighting for dominance in his stomach instantly dissipate. She looks lovely, though, at this late hour, she is somewhere between states of dress. Her hair is loose and flowing around her face and her body is void of any ornaments save a thin silver chain that disappears into her bodice. She is still dressed though, her gown and shawl both made of a material so light and delicate that it floats about her like a mist. For a moment, she reminds him of a wood sprite, all wisps and wildness. He smiles and takes her hands, kissing her forehead out of sheer relief that she has arrived. He ushers her into the tiny chapel, checking the hall behind her to ensure that she wasn't followed.
"Bash, what's going on? Why have you asked me to meet you so late? Why the chapel?" She catches sight of the others in the room. "And what are they doing here?"
She has stopped short as she looks at the others: his mother, Alec, and a priest. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but their presence here is important to him.
"I asked them here. To be witnesses," he explains, knowing that the explanation will raise more questions in her mind. He takes her hand and leads her further in, so that she is directly in front of the altar. She settles on the most obvious question:
"To what exactly?" Her voice belies a trepidation that's not evident in her face yet. He knows what she's thinking, wonders if she'll be disappointed when she discovers what he's really brought her here for. He is struck with a pang so strong that it is physical pain of desire to see her standing in front of an altar in a wedding dress, repeating a whole different kind of vow. He prays that there will be a time for that later.
"To my vow of fealty," he says aloud, kneeling on the ground in front of her and taking one of her hands in both of his. He closes his eyes and wills his voice to be steady. When he opens them, her face is soft and her eyes bright with surprise in the candlelight. The words that he struggled and failed to write earlier come quickly, easily, now that she's standing in front of him:
"Most cherished and ascendant queen," his voice fills the emptiness of the chapel, steady, strong. "Before my friends, my family, and my God, I pledge you now my lifeblood and my heart's every beat; my mind and my spirit; my body and even my soul, though you are worthy of so much more than I in this mortal state can give. Sovereign and servant, protector and protected, fortress and home, lover and beloved. All these things you are to me, until my bones become dust and then forever thereafter in heaven, so help me God."
Somewhere in the middle of his oath, she pressed the hand he isn't holding over her mouth and tears began streaming from her shining eyes. Now, she withdraws her hand and reaches to her throat. He watches in wonder as she lifts the thin silver chain from the bodice of her dress. Dangling from the middle of it is a ring of braided gold; no, not a braid, but three-cornered Celtic knots. He remembers a conversation they had ages ago where she explained to him that the corners signified the mind, body, and spirit, not just the Trinity.
"I was going to give this to you on our wedding day," she whispers, "but…" With a swift motion she gives the chain a jerk and it breaks, releasing the ring in to her palm. And then she is kneeling in front of him, holding both of his hands in hers.
"Sebastian," her voice is soft and steady and saturated in emotion. "Take this ring as a seal upon the vows you have spoken, and as you wear it, may it be a reminder of my heart and how much it loves you, not only on this day, but every single day that follows." She pauses, looks him in the eye and when he sees her looking at him like this he knows without question that she speaks the truth from her deepest heart. "When your head seeks guidance, look upon this ring and know that you shall always find your answer. When your heart seeks comfort, look upon this ring and know that you shall always find peace. When your soul seeks shelter, look upon this ring and know that you shall always have a home."
She slides the ring onto the fourth finger of his left hand and then lifts his hand to her lips. The kiss she presses there is fervent in its passion, as if she is kissing the hand of Christ himself. He can hear the priest murmuring a prayer, but his attention is focused solely on the words she has just spoken. She stays there, her head bent over their clasped hands, her tears anointing their fingers like holy water.
Over her bowed head, he sees his mother smiling, but wiping away tears too, and he knows that she is the only person in this room who can truly understand what they've done to themselves. She has told him over and over again to stay away from Mary, to protect his heart from what he cannot have. Yet here she stands, supportive of him in all things, even this. She knows that wherever Mary goes, he will follow, even if it means leaving her for good. And she stands as his witness, blessing this oath he's sworn with her presence. Their eyes meet, and she nods slowly before gesturing to the others and leading them from the room.
By the time Alec has closed the door behind them Mary has straightened and sat back on her heels, though she is still holding tightly to his hand. Her eyes are still gleaming, though she's managed to keep her tears at bay. He smiles brightly when he sees the curiosity creeping into her face.
"Why now?" Her voice is whisper-soft and rough from her tears. He raises her hands to his lips, kisses each knuckle before replying.
"I needed you to know that, no matter what happens, I'm yours. No matter what the Vatican says, no matter who tries to kill me because of it. Whether you're a Queen or a milkmaid, I will follow you to the ends of the earth if you let me. I just needed you to know. Just in case."
She's smiling at him in such a way makes his heart want to constrict and burst all at the same time. He knows that if he somehow manages to live to be an old man and has forgotten everything else, even his name, he will remember the way she looked at him, the way she smiled at him like he'd personally hung the moon in the sky, like he was the deepest desire of her heart, like she suddenly recognized that they were made for each other. In that moment, he doesn't care what will happen to them in the future. In that moment, he doesn't let the threats that loom from all angles worry him. In that moment, she is his completely, just as much as he is hers. And in that moment, that is enough.