Chapter 3: Soaring

As the sun was setting, Mary slipped into the stables through the secret passageway. Alec was waiting for her with two saddled horses and a plain cloak much like the one Bash always wore. With any luck, even if they were seen she wouldn't be recognized. The setting sun was in just the right position to be in the eyes of anyone watching them from the castle, and they had barely cleared the stable yard before they burst into a gallop. Time was of the essence. Mary did not want Bash to be left waiting a moment longer than he had too.

The last of the light was fading as they thundered into the church yard, and Bash was at Mary's side almost before the horse had stopped, reaching up to help her off her mount. She leapt gladly off the horse into his arms, and he crushed her against him, hand wrapped in her hair and cheek resting on top of her forehead. She got the feeling he had been afraid he would never see her again. Then Bash's lips were pressed against her own, intensely claiming her ever so briefly, and she responded willingly, the newness of the realization that she loved him making the moment all the more precious.

Alec cleared his throat, bringing them both back to the present. Sebastian grabbed her hand and eagerly tugged her toward the church. "The priest is waiting, and the grounds keeper is there as well to witness along with Alec. I don't want to wait another moment," he said grinning excitedly at her.

His mood was infectious, and Mary actually giggled, her feet light as she blithely followed him. There was no music, no solemnly walking down the aisle alone to some stoic bridegroom. Instead, the two lovers practically danced down the aisle, hand in hand, broad grins on their faces, to where the priest was waiting.

The priest was a simple country priest – though he was close to the castle, his parishioners were simple villagers, and he had never been this close to royalty. Indeed, he had no idea he was marrying a Queen and future king, thinking they were merely some nobles staying at the castle who had taken it in their heads to elope. So he was not intimidated or nervous, but calmly went about his task.

"I see the bride has arrived," the clergyman said mildly.

"Yes she has. The most beautiful bride in the whole wide world, and she's mine," Bash was ecstatic, his blue eyes sparkling. Hand still clasping hers, he took a step back for a moment and held her away from him, admiring her. Mary laughed again and closed the distance between them, pressing their entwined hands against his chest and looking up joyfully at him.

The priest raised an eyebrow. "I think we better get this marriage ceremony done, then," the priest said.

"Absolutely," said Bash, "the sooner the better."

"As quickly as you can," Mary agreed.

"Well then, shall we begin?" The man of the cloth made the sign of the cross over them and began the Latin rites of the holy sacrament of matrimony.

As the officiant continued in a chanting tone, the solemnity of the occasion slowly settled over the pair, and a quietness came over them. Mary had always loved the words of the Church's rites – it was like they lulled her into a state of meditation, clearing her mind of all the extraneous details, until the truth was there, clear before her. She gazed into Bash's crystal blue eyes, seeing adoration mixing with disbelief that this was actually happening shining out of them, and she knew with every fiber of her being that this was the right choice. The uncertainty, the confusion, the torn allegiance between two brothers seemed a distant memory as she basked in the perfect glow of the unselfish, unconditional love of Sebastian de Poitiers. She understood now why the nuns had always emphasized the sacredness of the marriage bond. She felt it in her core, that this was not just a contract binding them together in all worldly ways. This was the union of two souls as one, the commitment to put the other before themselves always, to love, honor, and cherish each other for all the days of their lives. When the moment came, she meant it with all her heart as she whispered, "I do."

There were tears in Bash's eyes then, she was sure of it, though he wouldn't let them fall. He was in danger of being overcome with emotion, and when the priest pronounced the words "What God has joined together, let no man put asunder," Sebastian was no longer capable of keeping it contained. He gathered Mary to him and crushed her sweet lips with his own, pouring every ounce of his devotion into that kiss. It left Mary spinning in wonderous bliss.

Even when the newlyweds finally pulled apart for a breath they refused to let go, pressing their foreheads together. Alec and the groundskeeper slapped Bash on the back, congratulating him, and then Bash looked up at them, still gathering Mary to him. She laid her head on his chest as they said their thanks to the priest, wanting to stay close to her new husband. And then Bash looked down at Mary again, a twinkle in his eye.

"My beautiful wife, I believe there's one more thing we need to do to make this marriage official."

Mary giggled again, unable to resist the irreverent charmer that was her husband. That was what had first drawn her to him, oh so many twists and turns of fate ago. He was cheeky, he was unexpected, he was exhilarating, and he made her feel free. Free to love, free to live, free to be Mary – Mary, the girl, and Mary the Queen of Scots, both.

When they exited the church, Bash swept her up and placed her on his own horse. Mary protested a little, but Bash was insistent – he was not letting her out of his embrace for the rest of the night, he claimed. She laughed again at that, not minding in the least. Alec promised to bring her horse to the inn where they were staying – though as he planned on taking a much more relaxed pace than Bash, he was sure the horse would arrive sometime after them.

Darkness had fallen in full when they reached the inn down the road a bit. The common room was full of song and music, but Bash and Mary had no interest in joining the revelry, or in being seen. Bash had taken a room at the back of the inn that could be reached by the back staircase, and he gleefully swept Mary into his arms bridal style and carried her up to their room, kicking the door closed behind them. His instructions had been followed and there was a cheerful fire already roaring, making the room cosy and inviting. Unwilling to set his precious load down even for a moment, at his bride's instance Bash turned so that Mary could reach out and lock the door, and then in a few short strides he was over to the bed, gently laying her down.

He paused for a moment, and Mary saw the moment of uncertainty in his eyes, the fear that his eagerness would frighten or hurt her. Though she didn't want to spoil this moment by any mention of the past, she felt she had to tell him, if only to alleviate his worry. "Bash, I have known a man – and I want you," she said. A look of surprise crossed his face, but she gave him no chance to consider her revelation or ask questions. She took his face in her hands and hungrily kissed him with a desire far stronger than any she had known before, pulling him down on her. Bash responded without hesitation, the months of pent up longing and the jubilation of at last knowing her hand and her heart were his pouring forth from him in every caress, every kiss, as they became one. When at last their passion reached its climax, Mary felt more than one kind of release, as if at last, at last, her soul was free to soar.