A/N: Okay so I would like to start by apologising for writing this. I cried. A lot. While I wrote it and I would advise tissues. It's cannon divergent although some of these things may come to pass as (a Mash fan can hope, right?)

Disclaimer: I do not own the plot or and of the characters that you recognise - if I owned it then Mary and Bash would be happily married and have at least five children by now by I digress.

Sebastian De Poitiers was the eternal bachelor. He was handsome - with eyes that pierced the soul, dark hair and a powerful frame, he was charming and well brought up - being the bastard son of the King raised at court had helped this and yet as he neared his fourty fifth year on God's Earth, he remained a bachelor. He had been engaged once, many, many years ago when he still resided in French Court and his father was still King. Her name had been Mary and he had loved her endlessly. So much so that even when she broke their engagement to marry his brother, the Dauphin, the embers of his love for her did not waver. He did not love again. The embers kept him warm, or that was what he had once told her and he had remained in her service and council as long as she had permitted. The truth was the embers had not kept him warm for a very long time now. He had lost count of the years that had passed since he had last seen her face and some twenty years later the embers simply simmered away, doing no good but equally no evil. He made no attempt to douse the flames - he had not the inclination nor the strength, but he tried his hardest not to stoke them. Not to listen for news of his Queen. Not to think of her to often. But it was days like this when his resolve would shatter. He stood staring forlornly out of one of the windows in his chambers. She had not consumed so much of his thoughts in many years, but on this particular day he found himself unable to escape the memories of who they used to be. His reminiscing was interrupted by a sharp knock on his door, followed by the entrance of his page, Phillip,

"Forgive the intrusion, My Lord, but a letter has arrived from England."

Bash did not turn,

"I will deal with it later, Phillip," he said icily; news from England was not a rare occurrence. He had many old friends and allies over there. Phillip hesitated,

"My Lord, I believe it is a matter of great importance. You see, while the letter was sent from England it bears the seal of the Scottish Royals."

This struck a chord and Bash turned suddenly. His piercing eyes expressive yet unreadable as his mind raced. Surely it could not be? His Lady Mary had not reached out to him in many years,

"Where is this letter?" he demanded, stepping hurriedly towards his Page. Phillip handed Bash the letter, face almost fearful. Bash snatched the letter, turning away and hurriedly dismissing the boy. His hands practically trembled as he inspected the seal, turning the letter over to reveal the careful, measured writing he would have known anywhere. Cursing himself for his weakness, he brought the parchment to his face and inhaled deeply; he was unsure if it was simply his mind playing tricks on him, but he could have sworn the familiar scent of lavender and mint flooded his senses. He closed his eyes willing back the tears. It had been a long time since he had last found comfort in that aroma. His eyes remained closed as he carefully broke the seal. He prayed then, unsure of quite what he was praying for. Anything, really. And then he opened his eyes and cast them upon the letter.

Hello, it's me

I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet

To go over everything

They say that time's supposed to heal ya

But I ain't done much healing

My dearest, Bash,

I am well aware of the shock that you must be feeling right now. Many years have passed since our last encounter and I find myself regretting that fact more and more by the hour. I do not know if you will even open this letter; in your position I am not sure I would, but I pray to God that you do. You need to hear what I have to say. And oh, there is such a great amount I wish to say to you, darling Sebastian. Most all of my regrets revolve around you in some manor and I am finding myself increasingly lost of late. I know they say that the wounds we inflict on both ourselves and others shall heal with time and I am sure that you have long since forgotten me and moved on with your life (I should love to say that this is what I wish to be the case, for I long for your happiness, Bash, I do. However I am and have always been selfish enough to hope that you at least think of me on occasion) and I need you to know that such a task has not been so simple for me.

Hello, can you hear me?

I'm in California dreaming about who we used to be

When we were younger and free

I've forgotten how it felt before the world fell at our feet

It is odd, to think that the words I write here may never be read. Or that perhaps you shall read them too late. Am I already too late? Most probably. But you see, Bash, of late I have found my mind wondering back a great deal to times so long gone that I often wonder if they were mere dreams. I recall a time not long after my arrival at French Court - back when we were mere children; you told me that I was not alone. But my love, I have never felt more alone. I find myself remembering how deliriously happy we were once. I opened my heart to you and you consumed me and I loved you so - and what you once told me as you were chained, that I would have been happy had I married you - it was true, I have known it for a long time - always, really. We would have been happy, my love, and I am so deeply sorry that we never got that. But I married for Scotland and I cannot bring myself to regret the time I had with Francis. What I can bring myself to regret is what happened after his death. The embers of a love as strong as ours do not simply fade away. My own words, as I recall. And you told me that the embers of our love kept you warm. Do they still? I should have accepted your love then when the time was right. You stood by me through every instant, every hardship and every success and yet I could not bring myself to accept you. I love you Bash. Please believe me when I say how truly and terribly I loved you and how deeply I regret many things in regards to our long and painful love story, but most specifically my turning you away. Not a day has passed since you left Scottish lands all those years ago where I have not longed for your embrace. Where I have not thought of what has been and what could have been if I had been a better woman and a worse Queen - or better yet if I had been a milkmaid or something. I have not felt joy or freedom since your departure and I fear that I have forgotten what they feel like. What being around you feels like; and that is perhaps the most painful thing of all.

There's such a difference between us

And a million miles

But we are not who we once were, my darling, darling man. And two decades is a long time not to see someone in, I am well aware. Perhaps you are married now, a father even and yet I am still mourning the loss of the man that I knew in our youth. I am truly sorry for the cards that fate has dealt us - the cards which our birthrights, my pride and selfishness dealt us. There was once a time when you were the one that I could count on no matter what and I am so sorry for pushing that away. I am so sorry that I have wasted so much time; that you now live so many miles across the waters.

Hello from the other side

I must have called a thousand times

To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done

But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside

At least I can say that I've tried

To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart

But it don't matter. It clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore

Do you know how many letters I have written and tried to write you over the years? I have a box tucked away in my closet filled with letter after letter. Some are sad, some apologetic, some full of anger, bitterness or regret but mostly they are full of longing. And while at the time I had my reasons I find myself wishing I had sent them. I do not know if I would have gotten a response. I do not know if you would have even read them just as I do not know it you are reading this now. But it would have been worth it; for a least then - at least now I can say without a doubt that I tried. Good lord, Sebastian, do you even remember me? Or did I hurt you in such a way that has meant I was cast from your mind forever? Do you still love the girl that you once knew? Could you love the woman I am now, given the chance?

Hello, how are you?

It's so typical of me to talk about myself. I'm sorry

I hope that you're well

Did you ever make it out of that town where nothing ever happened?

I realise that I have not yet asked about you? About your life and how it has been since last I saw you? Do you have a wife? Children? I pray that you never were forced back to court although I doubt you would have gone even if the King desired it. I hope beyond hopes that you are happy, my dearest Sebastian, that your kind, selfless and brave nature has not been lost to you and that the fates have treated you kindly. I hope, selfishly, perhaps, that if you have children they know my name. That they know at least some of the war story that is belonging to us, though I do not expect them too.

And it's no secret that the both of us

Are running out of time

I suppose, as greatly as it pains me I cannot put off the inevitable any longer. You are probably wondering upon the point of this letter? Why now? Why after all these years. The answer is quite simple, my love. I am going to die. I have known it in my heart of heart for some time, but my cousin made it official days ago. I have a month and then I shall die.

I know that I am likely too late, but I had to write you. I had to tell you all of the things that you needed to hear while I still had the chance to say them. I doubt we shall ever meet again in this lifetime and I cannot express to you the depth of the pain that causes me. There is so much more I had hoped to do, Bash. I had always believed that we would get our happy ending in some way or another. And as I prepare to meet my maker, I feel the need to confide in you - for you have always been and still remain the one person I truly trust - that letting you leave that day is my most overbearing regret. And so it is that I wish to tell you for what will likely be the final time quite how much I love you, Sebastian De Poitiers. Quite how sorry I am for all of the pain and wrong that I have caused you. How regretful I am that I allowed for you to leave, that I did not give us a chance and how blessed I was to have gotten to know you. To love you and to be near you. I wish you happiness, Bash, and that you humour me one last time and return this message. It would provide me with a great deal of comfort to here from you one last time.

Goodbye, Sebastian, my dearest, darlingest love. May God watch over your soul and may you forgive me for all my wrongs.

Mary

So hello from the other side (other side)

I must have called a thousand times (thousand times)

To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done

But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside (outside)

At least I can say that I've tried (I've tried)

To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart

But it don't matter. It clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore

Sebastian slowly looked up. His eyes glassy and his cheeks wet with tears. He stared at the wall without truly looking at anything. It could not be? But he knew in his heart of hearts that it was true.

He thought back to a time, a few years after his departure from her town. She had been in Italy on business and had passed through the town he resided in. By accident or intention he remained as yet unsure. From his understanding her second husband had been in his grave for no longer than a season. She had visited his house several times throughout the course of the week and he had told his house keeper to inform her that he was out, each and every time she came to call. He regretted that choice deeply now but at the time he was wounded and could not bare his heart broken by her again. She had not believed him for on her last night in the town she had come once more and once she had been sent away she had stood outside, in the rain, he recalled, and yelled for him.

"Bash!" she had cried, uncaring as to who saw her or that this was not correct behaviour of a Queen, "Sebastian I am no fool, I know that you are there. You do not wish to see me, and I understand that though I wish it were not the case. I caused you great pain and of that I shall be forever filled with regret. This pains me too, Sebastian, it has from the minute I opened my heart to you. But I suppose I love you enough to let you be, for that is quite clearly your wish. Goodbye, Bash, and I'm sorry."

He recalled the way that he had stood, just out of view of one of the windows, listening intently as his heart broke with every phrase uttered by her. But he had let her go, for his pride, for her pride, for Scotland and because he loved her. The logic of that which seemed backwards to him now had made sense at the time. He noted the absence of this memory from her letter with a numb curiosity. Was she ashamed?

"Oh Mary," he breathed quietly, shutting his eyes in pain as he recalled a time long ago, "brave, brave Mary,"

Mary Queen of Scotland sat rigid in her prison cell. She had but a fortnight of life left to live and yet she had still not had word back from Sebastian. She realised that she had been a fool to expect anything different. He had loved her too much to forgive her. At least she had tried. At least she had gotten to tell him of all of the things that she wished. At least he knew and she could make peace with that. Make peace with his decision not to respond.

"Your Grace," Silvia, a lady's maid of hers said quietly, entering her cell. Mary turned, eyes filled with tears,

"Yes, child?" she asked,

"Forgive me, your Grace, but there is a man here to see you." Mary's stomach dropped and her eyes flickered to the entrance to her cell. It could not be, could it?

Bash stepped into the room, his eyes fixed to Mary. How lovely she still was, how with the exception of a few lines on her face here and there, she was still the same girl that he had fallen in love with all of those years ago,

"Bash," she breathed, her eyes filling with tears instantly. Neither of the pair noticed Silvia bow to her queen and quickly slip out of the cell. They were simply to lost in each other. Mary looked at him, soaking up everything about his appearance. He had not changed a bit. He looked less like a boy and more a man now, but then that is what twenty years did to a person.

It seemed to them both that they stood, looking at each other - just looking - for hours. Both their hearts pounding in their chests. A single tear slid down his cheek and that is was did it, she ran to him, throwing herself into his embrace and he pulled him to her, as tightly as he could, inhaling her familiar scent,

"My darling Mary," he breathed, as she pulled her tear soaked face from his chest and looked up into his eyes as she had done when they were younger, "brave, brave Mary, how is it that we wound up here?" he asked softly, before leaning down and kissing her soundly, pulling her even closer if that was possible as the kiss deepened and they attempted to make up for all of the lost years. Bash briefly recalled something his mother had said to her; that she was a tall glass of water and that he was a man dying of thirst. Those words had never born more relevance.

Later that evening as they lay entwined on Mary's hard wooden cot, covered only by her thin blanket, Mary looked up at him, eyes filling again with tears,

"I was so sure that you would not come. That I had lost you forever. I couldn't think of a worse way to die." She whispered, fearful, he looked down at her with such immense love and sorrow,

"My Mary," he breathed, leaning down to kiss her, "You are as lovely and enchanting now as you have ever been. I forgave you the minute I got on the boat. I left because it was what you wanted, or so I thought. It was easier."

Mary shook her head vehemently and burrowed further into her lost loves chest,

"No. But let us not think of such sadness now. After all we have much lost time to make up for and not much time in which to make up for it." she tried to joke, but her eyes were saddened and his face darkened at her mention of what was to come,

"I have failed you," he said quietly,

"Bash," she said, pleading him not to think that way,

"No, I promised I would never let any harm come to you and yet here we are."

Mart signed, before looking up and smiling sadly at Bash,

"I suppose there are promises that we have both broken then. I do not wish to dwell on what cannot be changed. My fate is sealed so let us just spend these last weeks together. Let me love you. Let this story have at least some semblance of a happy ending."

And so that is what they did. Queen Elizabeth allowed Sebastian to all but move into the Queen's cell with her for those final weeks and the couple considered it a small mercy. They got to love each other, and to relearn the things they had once known. They got to make peace and they got to be happy. If only for a short while. And when the time came for the guards to come and collect Mary for her execution, Bash held her, and kissed her and apologised and told her he loved her, that he wasn't ready for this, that he would never be ready for her to leave. She cried and begged for just a few more minutes in the arms of the man she loved. But Mary Queen of Scots was out of time,

"Bash," she choked out, "These last weeks with you have been a blessing, one which I never dreamed I would get. There are hundreds of countries in this world and thousands of cities. There are five oceans that separate us, not to mention birthrights, and yet I got to know you, Sebastian De Poitiers. I got to love you even if it was only for a short period of time and for that I will forever be grateful." Her breathing had calmed slightly although the tears still rolled freely down her cheeks as he held her, kissing her hair and trying desperately to absorb every last detail of her, as she was him.

"I love you, my Queen. My brave, beautiful Queen and we will meet again. In the afterlife or whatever comes next. Death is not enough to douse these embers, my love."

That was the last words they ever spoke to each other. Mary was taken from Bash's embrace seconds later and she was taken down to the platform. She went, head held high and repeating the words of love that Bash had whispered to her over and over in her head. This was not the end. She would see him again. She searched the crowd desperately as Silvia went to place the blindfold over her eyes until finally her gaze found his piercing one. She mouthed the words "I love you" to him, and he mouthed them back as she soaked up his appearance once last time. Then the blindfold covered her eyes and soon after that, the world went black.

Hello from the other side (other side)

I must have called a thousand times (thousand times)

To tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done

But when I call you never seem to be home

Hello from the outside (outside)

At least I can say that I've tried (I've tried)

To tell you I'm sorry for breaking your heart

But it don't matter. It clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore