AUTHOR'S NOTE: This chapter took a little longer to write because I was writing a Mary and Sebastian One Shot fiction called Elements of Euphoria. If you enjoy this fiction, you should definitely check it out. I have also gained a lot of lovely reviews since my last update and I am so happy about them! Thank you everyone for your views and comments.

Falling Out Of Favour

Chapter 11

If one thing was definite it was that Nostradamus's prediction had been fulfilled. The racing heart within the prophecy had been Sebastian's. True enough, he had stilled her heart come morning light. He had given her the goblet and he had spent the last week terrorising himself for it. He would not forgive himself for the crime he had committed. His mind remembered the events that followed Mary's downfall. The hall had flooded with angry demands against Sebastian as guards pinned him down to the floor. All of Mary's ladies sobbed by her side as they yelled at the guards to stop accusing Sebastian. However, throughout all of the commotion Sebastian's eyes never left Mary's body. His throat had swelled as his heart began to implode.

The following week had been torturous for Sebastian. Since the inception of the corruption he had been imprisoned. He had spent five days in the prison cells being tortured relentlessly by the castle guards. They had vehemently taken him every day, down to the torturing rooms and beaten him beyond sanity's repair. Afterwards, they left him bloody in his cell, until the next day when the events would be replicated. His cavernous wounds would clot overnight and be re-opened the following day by the guard's carefree activities. However, when nothing new was brought to the court attention, he was trialled and found not guilty. His head had been spared, but at an unforgivable and daunting price. The innocent servant that had furnished Sebastian with the tainted water, had been proclaimed guilty and beheaded by morning light, for the indefensible crime of treason. Along with him were many others who were suspected of poisoning Mary.

A dreary week had passed since Mary's misfortune and Sebastian had spent his time dwelling in his quarters. Since she had been unconscious the days had grew cold and monotonous for Sebastian. His heart ached profoundly, having only just earned her heart and it had been ripped away at the expenditure of his own hand. He had his suspicions, but he wanted to know who had indeed poisoned Mary. During the day he was kept under close eye of the castle guards, so he spent his time in his quarters resting and caring for Stirling. No one was around to look after him whilst Mary was absent and he prided himself with animals. On the night he took the dark hidden passages down to Nostradamus's healing room and shared sweet moments by Mary's bed side. He had held her hand, fed her the herbal concoctions that Nostradamus had fashioned and whispered sweet nothings to her, but it was all for naught.

She had been unconscious for eight days and displayed no symptoms of recovery. She slept peacefully, her hands resting on her stomach and her flourishing hair flowed freely over her torso. The only thing that was keeping Mary sustained was the herbal remedy Nostradamus manually fed her four times a day, but even they had their limits. Word of Mary's collapse had reached England and Queen Elizabeth had sent her companies through the Scottish border to raid Mary's land. Until she was conscious and thriving, King Henry refused to send in his men to secure it. This worried not only Sebastian, but Francis too.

Sebastian checked the clock on the wall in his quarters. It was almost time to dine with his family and afterwards visit Mary. He left his quarters with Stirling close by his side and found himself accompanied by an additional four guards. He sighed and sauntered with them down to the hall to dine with the several guests that had remained behind after the previous events to ensure Mary's safety and well-being. As he passed the main entrance, the sound of substantial rain captured his attention. He walked over to the large open doors and looked out into the castle grounds. His defective guards stood further back, as to not get their armour wet. The rain was so heavy his sight was blurred. His eyes averted to the sounds of a cat wailing. He witnessed as a tabby cat chased a mouse out into the rain and disappeared across the sodden grass. He strained his eyes to get a better look as the cat abruptly stopped wailing. He stood perched at the edge of the forest, the mouse had evidently sought protection inside, but the cat was remained terrified. It was then that Sebastian realized what wood it was. He turned from the entrance and made headway for his mother's quarters. Stirling was close on his trail as he walked. He knocked on Diane's door as he entered. His guards willingly waiting outside.

"You bring Mary's hound to keep me company…" Diane uttered sarcastically. Her eyes glaring playfully at Stirling as he lay by the door.

"Mother please, it's the least I could do…"

"The fault was not yours," she replied simply.

"I desire no pity, I seek answers," Sebastian retaliated bluntly.

"My son is quizzical," she mused whilst glancing out the window, hands resting loosely in her lap. "Is it guidance that you seek? Or something formidable perhaps?"

"Pagans… blood magic… is it all they know?"

"I suspect the latter," her gaze turned to him, "They practice others, why?" She asked concerned, her eyes now locked on him. Their voices turned to harsh whispers.

"Could they save Mary?"

"Save? Save is a broad term… you should not be asking this," she retaliated.

"Well can they?" He demanded.

"It is possible, but Nostradamus has not yet found a cure. Who's to say pagans will? For sure, I am uncertain."

"You were pagan once, you tell me."

"The arts in which I practiced were not that of blood magic. Neither should you seek information of blood magic. It will cost you more than your head," she said, "I answer you this… never in my time has there been a cure for what you seek."

"Your time as pagan has many years passed. A cure could have been fashioned…" he said his finger thoughtfully lifting to his chin.

"Fashioned… from what? Blood?" Her voice raised, "The will of your tongue is tainted by the devil my dear boy… I do not encourage this," she said pacing towards him.

"I will do anything to save her," he said taking a plausible step back and she paused.

"To save her you will make great sacrifice," she proclaimed.

"Great sacrifice is valuable, if it will guide her back to me," he lulled.

"I beseech you, do not seek out any more than what you already have!"

"I must mother, for her!"

"What is this detrimental hold she has on you?"

"It is not detrimental and I will save her," he said turning back and exiting the room. Stirling scrambled to his feet and followed. Sebastian could hear the patter of his feet as he followed closely. He could also hear the ominous sound of boots. "Get a horse saddled for me," he said to the closest guard.

"But the weather…" he began and Sebastian shot him a malevolent glare.

"Yes," he nodded and disappeared down the deserted hallway ahead of him.

"You," he pointed roughly to another of his guards, "Look after Stirling. He's of great value to Mary, Queen of Scotland." He demanded and started down the hallway himself. The sound of Stirling barking echoing behind him.

As Sebastian entered into the blistering rain he jumped up onto his horse's saddle and hooked his feet either side of the animal's body. He kicked hard and it instantly bolted down through the canopy trees. The rain lashed harshly off his face and he found himself squinting. His cloak flew behind him in the wind, heavy from the rain. It weighed him down onto the horse's back. The horse's hooves kicked sodden dirt and it sprayed ubiquitously. Once he reached the end of the road he spurred his horse and revolved deep into the blood wood. The one thing he realized was how reckless he had been. His guards had been reluctant to follow him because of the harsh weather and he knew they would tell King Henry of his venture alone. However, Sebastian was more than willing to spend his future days in a prison cell if it meant he could save Mary.

Sebastian knew he was deep into the wood when the rain no longer tainted his surroundings, because the trees were so close together their branches were too dense to allow water to pass through. He dismounted his horse and began pulling the reins so that it walked by his side. It was incredibly dark and disconcerting in the blood wood. All his senses felt heightened as he travelled further and he could feel his horse pulling away from him. Sebastian passed the location where he had saved his last sacrificed victim and pressed on. He paused when he came to an open patch of murky land. He glanced around and stepped forward, as he did he heard rustling ahead. His breath cut short.

"I know you're here," he shouted, "you always lurk where the darkness thrives. I seek naught but your service. I speak little of your dialect, but I was born into a branch of the pagan blood line."

"We know who you are, bastard born," a hollow voice sounded from behind him. "You disturb the peace."

"You've been sacrificing our people and you speak of peace?" Sebastian said rhetorically, laying his darkened vision upon the hooded silhouette.

"Your quarrels are baseless, you sought our service… now what is it that you want." Sebastian could hear the animal like growls sounding in the air as he spoke.

"Mary, Queen of Scotland… she's been fatally poisoned. Her body lies still, but her heart beats strong. I may have been misguided, but I was certain you could help."

"All comes with a price, how far are you willing to go?"

"Anything."

"Gold will not suffice, we seek something more valuable. A deal with the devil will be struck, to save the girl you love," the figure said and Sebastian paused. He was aware that he hadn't mentioned beforehand that he loved her. He also became hopeful. The pagan wanted to strike a deal, which meant he had a cure.

"I'll do it," he bargained.

"Be warned, a blood sacrifice is not enough. To provide the life to sustain her… you will trade your soul."

"There is no other way?"

"The girl in which you love will be your brother's demise but she will also bring your destruction. The path in which you choose now will be crucial. If you choose to save her she will bring you prodigious misfortune. You will be king of pagans and she will reign as your queen."

"What?" Sebastian gasped horrified. He had dug his grave deeper than he had ever imagined.

"You were born into this whether you like it or not. You are of this blood. In what you choose to do next will seal your fate. Either way you will join pagan law. If she dies your heart will grow dark and malevolent. Darkness will spawn inside you like no other. No soul or entity will ever rival you. As the predatory lion… you will destroy many. However, even if you choose to save her you will grow dark. You will have no choice." Sebastian didn't like his options, but the latter meant Mary would be alive and he could easily pay the price, however grave, for that small fulfilment. The hooded pagan figure approached Sebastian and placed a small vail in his hand.

"You said Mary reigns as queen, how will she join when she reigns Scotland?"

"She would not have to give up her country. You dearly underestimate the strength that is love."

"I still could not condemn her to this life!"

"Then you condemn her to death! The poultice is yours. You decide your own fate... And hers." Sebastian took the vail from his hand, "It cures all but one poison"

"And what poison would that be?"

"One I doubt your beloved has been tainted."

"And what of the conspirator?"

"Ah, they are closer than you think..." He disappeared into the night and Sebastian was left standing there feeling lifeless.

A few hours later Sebastian found himself galloping back towards the castle, the rain still attacking his skin. He jumped down off his horse and entered inside the castle. His hair and clothes dripped rain water onto the foyer floor. He had missed the dinner with his family and he could hear their merry laughter from the hall as he entered into the foyer. He turned his back and walked in the direction of Nostradamus's healing room, his boots left wet boot marks on the wooden floor. As he entered the room he found Mary in the same positioned she had been in the night before. He smiled wryly and sat on the stool that was placed by her torso. Sebastian looked down at the vial within his hands and his mind ran wild with endless possibilities. The purple liquid that remained inside could, in fact, heal Mary or it could be another incurable poison. He heard the door creak behind him and he quickly hid the vial within his clenched fist.

"You shouldn't be here," Nostradamus said, "You sentence yourself by being at her side."

"I was just checking on her," he shrugged stepping away.

"Is that so? Then what is that vial you hold firmly within your grasp?" His hoarse voice pressed. Sebastian sighed and let his hand reluctantly relax. His fingers out stretched and Nostradamus willingly took it out of his hand. Defeated, Sebastian turned for the door.

"Infinito devilio," he mumbled and Sebastian turned to look at him.

"What?" He asked.

"Where did you obtain this elixir?" He asked a look of despair upon his face. Sebastian paused, realising now that this was no ordinary concoction. "There is only one place you could have procured this. The devils work, born from the fires of hell. God himself could not remedy this. What bargain did you strike? Do you know what it will cost?"

"It will save her..." He said warily.

"Your future is yet to be written, but do not soil hers with your egotism!"

"I'm saving her future! How long until her body rejects your remedies? Hmm? How long!" Sebastian demanded, his eyes burned into Nostradamus's.

"You condemn her!" He bequeathed.

"Then I will pay the price!" Sebastian scorned whilst attempting to grab the vial.

"That price is grave," his voice became shallow, "there is no door to return from the hell in which you seek."

"Give me the damn elixir!"

"I relinquish any burden you place upon my shoulders," He placed the vial firmly on the table and turned towards the door, "be careful of what you choose, it will cost you your life." He finished and disappeared.

Sebastian fell back onto the stool, his eyes locked on the elixir. His heart ached and his mind was restless. He wanted Mary back, but he wasn't sure if he was willing to pay the price. His mother Diane, the pagan and Nostradamus had warned him of the cost behind this elixir. He turned back to Mary and laid his eyes upon her gentle features. When looking upon her beauty, he knew she was worth it, but the caution still weighed heavily in the back of his mind. He reached out and grabbed the potion, unstopping it in one swift gesture. He hovered the vial over Mary's plump but pale lips and paused. His hand began to shake. He used his other hand to lift up her head and her lips parted slightly. After one brave intake of breath, he held his lungful and poured the elixir into Mary's mouth.

After the entire of the vial's contents had disappeared into her mouth, he sighed in relief. He set her head down to rest and put the empty vial in his trouser pocket. He sat and waited impatiently for the outcome, but nothing happened. Each minute that passed burned more than the last. Mary still lay before him, her body lifeless. After a good while, he heard servants in the hallway and forced himself to leave. He made a promise to himself that he would revisit that evening. He made his way back down to the foyer and found himself clashing with his guards.

"Ah," he mumbled.

"You were not permitted to leave the castle," the guard to his left bequeathed.

"I see… well the fault was mine," he smiled wryly.

"Indeed it was. We've been instructed, by his majesty, to take you back to your rooms for the remainder of the evening."

"Very well," he nodded as his guards eyes began to widen. Sebastian frowned unsure as to why they looked so shocked.

"You bastard," Francis's voice yelled directly behind him in rage. It was then that Sebastian realized he could hear rushing steps towards him.

"What the…" Sebastian replied as a great force knocked him to the floor painfully. He wondered if his absence had really made him that livid.

"Why is it, the first name she calls upon waking is yours?" he yelled.

"She's awake?" He asked in disbelief and shock. He had only just left her bedside and she was awake.

"Not entirely, but she's stirring," Francis replied. Sebastian went to move, but Francis pushed him forcefully back onto the floor with his arm pressed against his throat. "Why?" He growled through gritted teeth.

"Shouldn't you be asking her?" Sebastian asked, his hands firmly on Francis's arm.

"I'm asking you… dear older brother," Francis spat, his face inches from his brother's.

"Do not patronise me!" Sebastian scorned beginning to get irritated. His back ached from the fall. "I have no inkling as to why my name was the first that sounded from her lips, but before you do something beyond repentance maybe you should ask her first." Sebastian spoke again, trying to calm Francis.

"I don't believe you."

"Consider the possibilities before accusing me of anything. I was the last face her eyes fell upon before she…" he trailed off as Francis pushed him once more and got up onto his feet.

"For your sake, I hope you're right!" He shrilled and stormed off back down the hallway. Sebastian watched his brother pounce through the doorway to his left.

Sebastian's guards helped him to his feet, he stumbled slightly and ripped his body out of their grip. They hovered over him, but he pulled away. His back was extremely sore. He attempted to touch his back, but his hand would not bend that way. As he brought his hand back around he noticed splotches of red had made themselves present. Still in the midst of the foyer, he stripped his cloak and jacket from off his back and turned his head to strain over his shoulder.

"Your wounds have re-opened," one of his guards said with his eyes locked on the back of his shirt. Sebastian ignored his guards comment and paced off back to his rooms. Deep anger resided inside of him.

Upon entering his rooms and inspecting his back further within the mirror, he realized his guard was right. The wounds in which he had gained through being tortured had, true enough, opened up once more. Sebastian sighed and stripped his wet shirt off his back and threw it to the floor. He looked intently at his visage in the mirror and began to inspect. He had a cut above his left brow from a blow to his face and a graze upon his cheek from where he'd been thrown forcefully to the floor of his cell. His back was covered in lengthy wounds from the whip he had been maliciously beaten with. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and then into the demise of his eyes. He knew one thing was certain. Mary was awake.