A/N: Again, it is lovely to see all the positive feedback to our story. Your reviews are so very much appreciated!

I do not own Reign.

"Clarissa?" Mary ventured a few feet into the passageway connected to her room, thankful the early morning was still bright enough to allow her some sight into the dark stone chamber despite the overcast of the day. "I want to say goodbye." She waited patiently, relieved when she heard footsteps coming nearer. "I leave in a short time to England and I want to thank you for all you have done."

A marble rolled to her feet and looking back into her room to be sure none of the party awaiting to escort her out of the castle had entered her chamber to witness, she rolled it back, willing to play Clarissa's guessing game. "Do you think I will be safe there, in England?"

The marble rolled to her foot and she smiled, knowing that was a yes. "It is hard to believe that is the case without you Clarissa." She rolled the marble back down the stone floor, wondering if she was brave enough to ask her next question. "Clarissa. Was it Francis that harmed Bash? Did Francis throw the first strike?"

She winced, remembering she was only supposed to ask one question at a time but once again two marbles came to hit her foot. Her frown grew deeply. Nothing is worse than when one's suspicions are confirmed and she certainly didn't like the idea of Francis becoming so violent. There was only one thing that could excuse such behavior in her mind and while she doubted it, she had to ask. "Is there any reason I should not trust Bash?"

This time, nothing came back to her. She can trust Bash. This she knew but it was always comforting to have Clarissa's agreement on the fact. More than anyone, she was sure, Clarissa would know in whom Mary should entrust. She was going to ask one more question, ask if Bash had retaliated, but she ran out of opportunity.

She stood to begin her retreat, hearing a knock upon her door but paused to issue a final goodbye. "If I do not return to this court, know that I have trusted you more than anyone and I am in your debt."

Just as she was at the precipice of reentering her room she felt a gentle hand come to rest between her shoulder blades. She knew better than to turn around, lest her benefactor mysteriously vanish. "Clarissa? Do you have a warning for me?"

"Danger lurks not at journey's end but on your ship. Care for him." The hand left and quickly Mary turned around to find a potion lying at her feet. "Care for who?" she yelled, her voice echoing on the stone walls. "Clarissa! Is it Bash? Should I worry for Bash?" She knew however that her friend was gone.

"Mary, did you call for me?" Bash opened her door, dressed and eager to set out on their voyage. Francis had thankfully taken refuge in the bed of Cicilia Orsini the last two nights and he needed only to survive what was sure to be an awkward goodbye before he would soon have the freedom that came with being Mary's chief confidant.

"No, no." She gathered her wits and closed the passage door from behind the dressing curtain. Taking Clarissa's potion, she slipped it into her bodice wondering of what purpose it served. Perhaps it was intended for the fast healing of a wound or perhaps it was meant to kill the person trying to potentially harm someone on the ship, someone who may be Bash.

She couldn't be sure but she did know that if Clarissa wished her to have it she personally wanted it on her person at all times. "I am just finishing my dressing for our journey." She came around to him, aware he didn't believe her from the look in his eyes. "Are we ready to set out?"

Bash eyed her, wondering what had her so struck that the very occasional flush to her cheek lit upon her face. Perhaps it was the idea that she had been still in a state of undress according to her excuse (he would give her the benefit of not calling her bluff) and yet he too was in her room. "Yes, but the weather is turning wild. Your cloak may help keep out the chill." He held the garment for her and after some hesitation on her part, assisted her in draping it over her shoulders and fastening it on her front.

She was so deep in thought on Clarissa's warning that she was barely aware of leaving her chamber or of her goodbyes to her friends, Francis and his parents. Was it truly Bash that she was warning on? Who would want to harm him? Perhaps Clarissa meant another man on her journey but then, why did she not name anyone? For her, the only person so singular as to be conjured by her warning was Bash. She wondered if Clarissa knew that. She wondered if that meant something.

Her worry was all consuming. Truly, she was only brought to the present when already in her carriage, the woods all she could see from her vantage.

"Mary, are you alright?" Bash felt a distinct pang of worry for her distracted nature though found some encouragement in her seeming to reclaim her senses. "I asked if you thought the snow was beautiful, just as I do."

She looked about, the realization that snowflakes were falling now setting upon her. "I do." She wondered at how much more beautiful snow fell, more elegant than even feathers. "I apologize; I simply worry about our journey in this weather."

Bash reached forward for her hand in an effort to console her. As her French counsel, he was to be at her side the entirety of the journey and alone for a lot of it at that, seeing as her other advisors were in the carriage behind them. He was thankful to steal any time alone with her, particularly when he can use said time to calm her nerves and show his worthiness of her trust. "I am told that we shall make it to our ship well before sundown and arrive during the night tomorrow." He rubbed her thumb with his own. "The sea may be rough but our ship's captain assures me of a safe passage."

Not even the rush she felt from his hand embracing her own saved her from her next thought. 'Safe from sea, perhaps.' She contemplated sharing the warning Clarissa issued to her but thought better of it. Knowing Bash, he would only become more protective of her and likely bring even more danger upon himself. She realized too that if she didn't try to gather herself and her wits she would tip him off that something was wrong and that she couldn't do. He would directly ask her what was the matter and she would not lie to him. So, she pushed it aside for now. "Thank you, Bash. That does soothe me greatly."

He was warmed by the calmness seeming to settle around her, put there by him. But he did notice a chill run through her when a wind picked up and with that he set into action. "Mary," he felt her face, noting how cold she seemed. "We must keep you warm. Here," he moved to sit beside her. Pulling her under his arm and resting her face into his chest, he wrapped his outer cloak around her head and handed the rest for her to cover her body. "Take this and cover your hands. You are wasting too much energy on your worry. Rest. I will keep you warm and safe."

The care and concern in his voiced touched her heart acutely. She knew the truth in all he stated and despite the racing of her pulse at being in his close embrace she found profound comfort in it as well. "Thank you, Bash." She sighed deeply, already feeling the spell of sleep come over her weary mind. "Perhaps this journey will be pleasant after all."

She fell asleep before she heard his reply and woke several hours later when he brought her about as their ship came into view.

He had been sad to see it in all honesty. He would have been content on holding her there, being the object of her embrace, for years. But he knew he had months away with her, months in which they could get closer. Months that may meet him with nothing more than eventual heart break, but he would be certain to cherish moments such as these just the same. "Mary, we are almost there. It would be best to wake now."

She lifted her head from the safety of his arms and looked out the carriage window to see the winter coastline and her ship approaching. Her anxieties about the ship began to return to her as Bash simultaneously returned to the seat opposite her own, a sure sign that soon the carriage would stop and once again they would be in the public light.

She was so reluctant for that public light. So seldom does she get any time alone. So seldom does that time include Bash. It was so unfair for life to provide moments such as these when her situation prevented their consistent repetition. She sighed, weary from it all. "I do so wish this ride took longer."

Aware at how that may have sounded she scrubbed the sleep from her face and noticed him watching her. "What?" She asked embarrassed at her state, trying to fix the locks of hair come out of place when he had removed the cloak from her head.

"It is nothing." He paused with his rueful smile displayed, reaching forward and tucking the last stray lock behind her ear. How he wished she would allow him to do this every day. "I was simply realizing how beautiful you are upon waking, your grace."

She felt her chest restrict in the complement and the realization of his addressing her formally suddenly made sense. He does so to cover his boldness otherwise. "Is it much different from my beauty the rest of the day?" She suddenly felt awfully bold herself upon noticing his raised brow.

He leaned only slightly forward as the carriage stopped. "Only in that it is so special to see that which others do not get the chance." He clarified before she could respond. "You are so seldom relaxed enough to be seen in any state of disarray. But it certainly becomes you."

A guard opened the carriage door and Bash got out, holding his hand to assist her exit. Upon setting foot to the snowy soil Mary regained her composure from the moment and once again was greeted by Robert and Thomas, all four being escorted by guards to the boats at the shore line.

She climbed into the boat ashore, with assistance from a guard and Bash, and settled into her seat knowing her fun was over and her work was about to begin.

Just on time with that thought, Robert began addressing the business of the day. "Does your grace have any urgent opinions she would care to share on the matter you discussed on the journey here?"

The boats set out and Mary looked to Bash in askance. "I am unsure of what matter we were to be discussing."

Thomas was surprised at that to be sure. Bash had seemed so insistent on accompanying her he would have thought it was to try and sway her opinion before Robert and he had the opportunity to do so as well. "What on earth were you discussing then, for so many hours?"

Mary and Bash both stole a glance to one another but he recovered first. "The weather of course. Mary is awfully fond of snowflakes." Upon seeing the unbelieving looks of his counterparts, looks that spoke the words 'you are poor counsel' he became slightly defensive. "I thought it best that due to Mary's weariness of the journey, and the absence of you both, we wait until on board to begin."

"Yes," Mary was quick to come to his aid. "I wish you all to speak with me on matters of politics, together if at all possible. I care too greatly about all three countries involved to favor any one opinion over others."

Bash contemplated how well Mary handles complex situations. She turned something awkward and perhaps even suspicious on his part into something entirely in her favor. He knew the concerns of the Scottish counsel and English envoy. They were concerned, just as he, that their efforts would meet with little success in serving the queen. There was much competition among them for her ear but with her simple proclamation, picking up the strain of truth in his own, he was sure the other two men were reassured of their equal footing.

The boats reached the ship and once secured he began in assisting Mary on board, deciding he shall take the trip first. "I would like it known to all here," he began as he stepped off the boat and onto the deck of the ship. "That my service here is not to France but to Mary. I wish only to give her the advice, opinion and assistance of France in all her endeavors at English court."

Mary took his offered hand and looked into his eyes and saw only truth there as she climbed aboard. Mary was genuinely surprised in that, more so when the sentiment was echoed by Thomas. Robert of course was in service to her as a Scotsman, she needn't worry on him.

With all on board she looked to them. "I do thank you all." She replied, gladly accepting the assistance of Thomas's proffered arm as they ventured below deck to find their berths. "I would like to meet with you three in the galley shortly to discuss whatever this matter may be over dinner."

They all agreed and after several minutes of settling into their respective berths all met at the galley, Mary seated at the head of their table. "Now, what is this great matter?"

"As your grace is aware," Robert began gently. "The factions within Scotland are quarreling incessantly. The Scottish Protestants have heard news of the possible spread of Mary Tudor's suppression efforts into our boarders under your authority."

Here Mary stopped him. "Do we know the source of their information?" It would be prudent to cut the source of information off at the neck, seeing as there were enough internal issues plaguing Scotland without adding yet more from the English.

Thomas looked regretful. "Thus far no one in court appears to have any suspicion. It is likely a servant is spreading rumor but attempts at discovering the source have met with ill success."

Mary thought on that as their meal of sole and vegetables was delivered to the galley. She was relieved to note that their plates were being tasted by one guard each. With one less thing to worry on, she turned her attention back to the problem in Scotland. "I assume then that we suspect an internal rising against me and therefore my mother."

Bash so did hate to hear the resigned aspect of her tone and the casualness of her commencing their meal. She lived so long as the target of ploys, plots and threats it seemed second nature for her to be in danger. He hoped he could be of some assistance in ending that trend. "We simply wish to prepare you that after a shorter time at court than otherwise expected, you may have to ask for English support and troops in securing your position. France is ill prepared at the time," here he looked somewhat disappointed in his own people "to send men in any speedy manner. English troops are already afoot your borders. We learned of the situation last night and among us three, we all agree that the English forces may be your best choice."

Mary's eyes filled with fear as Bash's word sunk into her conscience. Time was of the essence. "So it would be that quick to raise a rebellion then?" Upon seeing the confirmation from all three of her advisors Mary's mind turned to her response. "Thomas, is it likely that the English are yet prepared to act on this matter in haste? Before we set ashore?"

Thomas sighed, weary of the politics his land now faced. "I wish I could report to the contrary but I do not believe so, no. Years of conflict between our nations still play heavy on the minds of many. I am sorry your grace, but it appears you must try to sway opinion in your favor."

"Or I will lose all hope of retaining the loyalty of my people and suppressing a rebellion from some of the same." She looked to them all and she knew how very difficult her situation now presented itself. She must not only gain control over the English troops in Scotland but must be able to do so in the effort of repressing a rebellion, an effort many English may not be so keen to support. Gaining control now would prove even more difficult than she first imagined. Now, her own country, her position in England and her relations with France were all on the line equally. And all she could do is try to win over the hearts of many so eager to see her defeat.

Bash signed internally. He wished so dearly that relations between Scotland and France weren't so precariously balanced at the moment. He knew quite well that her alliance with France was part of the problem many in England had with her taking their throne. He wished Mary were just a girl and he a simple man. He wished to see anything but her in such a state of compromise. "Precisely."

"I understand." Mary delicately blotted her mouth with her napkin and stood to leave. "If you will excuse me, I have much to contemplate."

"Your grace." Both Thomas and Robert stood as well, bowing to her as she made her exit.

Bash followed her closely, finding her just outside the galley door, leaning against the wall for support. "You are not alone here." He echoed his words of long ago, hoping this time she understood his meaning.

"I have you, yes I know." She tried to regain control of herself. "I have always had to live each day for my country, choose every friend for their alliance or support, save you." She looked to his eyes, seeing nothing but genuine affection. So seldom did emotions such as those turn onto her. "Bash, do you think I can do this? I can see it on Robert's face that he doubts me."

Bash offered her his arm in order to escort her back to her berth, thinking on that. He had seen the doubt there too. He wondered what ran through the mind of the Scotsman as to have so little faith in his queen.

Once at their destination he turned to her. "Robert may have been your advisor for long but he knows little of your spirit." He gently tilted up her chin with his finger so her eyes met his. "You are much more capable than any man may give you credit." He sucked in a steeling breath. "If there is someone needed to capture a cold heart, I can say honestly that I am glad the task falls to you."

She wondered if the heart he was truly speaking of were his own. Kenna's words echoed in her mind and she thought she may just see it there, his affection, perhaps even his love.

Her eyes darted to his lips and he knew that if he wanted right now he could simply bend to claim hers. He so wanted to engage her in a loving kiss. But this is not how it should happen, not while she was afraid, not while she was vulnerable. "You must rest, Mary. You may think on all this in the morning. Clearer heads do so often prevail."

She pulled her body back from his spell and looked to her door. She wondered if yet again he would have kissed her. If she were just a girl and he a simple man, perhaps. "Is that your berth, next to mine?" She wondered aloud, for she had nothing else to say. But she did so wonder. If he were next to her, perhaps she could rest more soundly on her worry about the danger that may face him in the night. Suddenly, her trepidation on the English seemed to pale in comparison at the reminder.

Bash noticed her worry increase. "Yes, it is. If for any reason you need me you need only knock on your wall." He opened her door for her. "Worry not. All you must do is put your head on your pillow. Sleep will follow."

She looked back and him and wished him a good night before doing as she was told and lying upon her bed.

But sleep did not come.

Lying awake, she worried on so many an issue she couldn't be sure how late the night now ran. She contemplated the situation in Scotland and her challenges ahead at court but mostly, she wondered on Clarissa's warning.

She was most certain that Clarissa must have meant Bash. Mary had just been speaking of him, just asking her concern about who had harmed him. She knew that Clarissa trusted Bash and she too knew that he truly was her most trusted friend. Yes, it was certain. For whatever reason, none coming to mind at the moment, Bash was in danger and she was supposed to care for him.

Having come to that conclusion solidly, she turned her attention to what dangers lay on the ship that could harm him further. Unless the method of danger was overt, which she doubted based upon the number of guards on the ship she knew to be loyal, the only true danger would be poison. Attacking him in his sleep could rouse too much noise in such close quarters and of course several men would be needed for any other type of assault. So she was sure of it. Poison it must be. But how is it that someone could poison Bash when just as she, he only ever ate and drank that which was tasted by a guard?

Suddenly a terrible thought emerged. What if the guard that was in charge of tasting his food was in on the plot? What if he was the perpetrator of it and therefore also had an antidote and so could drink or eat the poison freely? What if the potion was meant as an antidote and she should have given it to him before? He could be in danger right now. He could be dead.

Ripping off her bed coverings she darted out of her berth, checking that the potion remained securely in her bodice just as before and rushed to Bash's quarters. By the light of her candle she could barely make out his face until she got closer and then she could see it. His eyes were wide and awake and yet he remained unmoving. The paling of his complexion, the gasping of his breath, the blue of his otherwise perfect lips were signs that he had been successfully poisoned. If she failed to act now, as she should have before, he would surely die.

Rushing quickly to sit at his side on the bed, she slipped the potion from her bodice and poured it into his mouth, coaxing it down is throat. "Please, Bash. Drink. Please." She urgently begged of him. She tried to think of why someone would do this, why someone would hurt a man so dear to her. "Come back to me, Bash. Drink. Please." She watched as his eyes lit in recognition of her but he remained unable to speak. She watched his continued struggle to breathe, to move or to drink as she asked until the liquid finally slid down his swollen throat. All she could do now was try to comfort him and hope, and pray.

She spoke reassuringly to him, telling him that this would work and that he would be laughing with her again soon. But all the while she worried on it and began a prayer that may very well have lasted an eternity as she held his still limp body in her arms. She dearly hoped this was what Clarissa intended for the potion's use and she hoped, more so than anything she had ever hoped for before, that she had reached Bash in time to save him.