Set after S.1 Ep. 18, "No Exit". I own none of these characters. All belongs to CW and the show's creators.

Bash had felt something for Kenna in the moment they kissed, but it was not love. When his eyes shut and their lips melded, it was another girl he was imagining. And for that, he felt immense regret. While he did not love Kenna, he did value her friendship as well as her relationship to Queen Mary. He wished he could fall out of love instantly, or transfer the feelings he had towards the queen to his new bride. But it was not that easy; nevertheless he owed it to both of them to try.

He spent time with Kenna, getting to know her. Trying to understand how her mind worked, and how she needed to be cared for. As the days and weeks went on, he grew to respect her. He hadn't been sure he could because of her history with his father, King Henry, but he understood what it meant to fall in love with someone just out of reach. He tried to stay focused on his new bride, he did all he could to not let his mind wander as he went day after day not seeing Mary.

By the fourth day of not even hearing the queen's voice in the halls, he grew concerned. He could not approach Francis or Kenna about it, and dared not ask the servants; it would only create gossip. "Bash? are you even listening?" Kenna inquired as they sat across from each other dining on pheasant and local produce over dinner one evening.

He shook his head, trying to shake the thoughts of when he'd last seen Mary from his mind. "I'm sorry, I must have been day dreaming. What were you saying?"

She sighed and shook her head, stabbing a carrot with her fork. "Nothing of consequence. Is everything alright?"

He nodded. "Yes, fine. Just thinking of the next move in seeking out the darkness," he lied. He felt as though he were betraying her just by thinking of the woman who once owned his whole heart. A woman who, to some extent, still did.

"I understand that this is something you have to do, seek it out, but I hope you also want to make our marriage a priority as well."

Guilt struck his chest and he nodded, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Of course. I'll do better. I just need to find and destroy this... creature. Once it's done, we will all be safe and I will dedicate myself to making our union work." He vowed to himself then and there that he would follow through on his promise.

That night, the woman that dazzled him from the moment he met her, was there with him. He knew it was a dream, if for no other reason that Mary would not approach him with the palpable need for him that she once had, or at least he thought she once had. But he allowed himself to be swept up in his subconscious that night. His mind played tricks on him, showing him a fantasy he could never have. Mary walking into his room, dressed as scantily as he had seen his own wife dress for the king. She wore a silk robe as she entered his living quarters, and dismissed the guards that walked in her shadow before she spoke to him. "You once told me that you worried that I would never care for you, love you, the way I love Francis," she began, taking slow, calculated steps towards him. He nodded, feeling the mixture of pain and elation at how she had responded the night of that conversation. "And you once told me you loved me, but not as much as him." She nodded her face falling ever so slightly, that he wondered if only he would notice the change if they had been in a room of people. "And you put your love of me above your pride and did not fight."

He sucked in a breath. This was something that had plagued him for months; that he did not fight harder for the woman he loved more than anyone he had ever cared for. "It was in part my pride that stopped me; I knew I had lost. Francis was the rightful king, and with your love he had everything." Her hand reached up and caressed his cheek. "If only you had known how difficult it was to say those things, to walk away from you." He put his hand over hers, staring into her dark brown eyes. "They needed to be said. You needed to say them; I would not have believed the words if they had been spoken by anyone else." Her eyes expressed something that he thought was sadness. "Royals, despite being the most powerful in a kingdom, as it turns out, do not always have the luxury of time. Time to decide, time to think things through, time to –"

"Be courted, as every woman, regardless of status, deserves," he murmured, watching her. She pressed her lips into a small smile and nodded. "Although you did quite well with the time we had."

"I'm glad to hear it," he said, returning the same smile. "I'm only sorry it wasn't enough."

"As am I," she confessed quietly, unable to meet his eyes as she spoke. "And now what's done is done, and nothing more can be said on the matter." To him, it sounded like she was trying to convince them both of this.

It was as if he were being stabbed in the gut. He could think of only one action that would assuage the pain. He dropped his hand from where it had been rested atop hers and pulled her flush against him, kissing her whole heartedly. He was not gentle, he didn't know how to kiss her tentatively. All of him craved her, needed her. He needed a woman with her passion, her intellect, her open-mindedness and sense of adventure. He could be gentle in how he touched her, if he were ever given the opportunity to share in that kind of physical intimacy – but his lips would never understand. She returned the kiss just as violently, crushing her lips to his. With his mind solely on his need for her, his hand brushed from the side of her waist across her stomach to the knot of her robe. It was only loosely tied and he was able to free it with one hand and little effort. He didn't look down to admire what he was sure was a perfect vision of beauty. He could not find it in himself to tear his lips from hers just yet. It was she that pressed herself against his clothed body and pulled her lips away. "Help me," she breathed into his ear.

He awoke breathless as sunrise peaked through the window. The image of Mary in a silk violet robe, her bare skin pressed against him, burned into his mind. The words she had gasped just before his eyes opened echoed through him. As he readied for the day, he convinced himself that the reason she consumed his mind to the extent she did, was simply out of concern. That was why in his dream, she had pleaded for him to save her. His subconscious thought she was in trouble. After all, since she'd arrived he hadn't gone more than a day without seeing, or at the very least, hearing her.

Once he knew she was alright it would be easier. His brain would not be split in thirds between the darkness, his new wife, and Mary Queen of Scots.