A/N: Thank you everyone for your follows, favorites and reviews. It means a lot!
I do not own Reign.
"Has your grace regained her appetite?" Bash sat down directly across from the queen at her table by the fire in the small outpost, six miles from Linlithgow.
The inspection of the city had been dreadful and none, including Aonghas, were eager to remain in such a place for longer than necessary to extract the single survivor that the apothecary could save. They had taken count of all men, women, children and of assumed trades based on clothing and then made haste in seeking protection in the outpost before nightfall.
The survivor had informed them of what he knew of the men that came. They were looking for Mary among the villagers and killed them all in the effort. This had not sat well with the queen and all there had known it, particularly the man always keeping a careful watch over her mental welfare.
"Not in the least." Mary looked down at the bowl of stew that now sat cold before her, aware that Bash had refused food as well. "I had hoped smelling this stew would help but it is actually quite revolting." She knew though, that the problem lay not with the stew.
The day had been trying upon her sensibilities, a topping point on what had seemed an ever increasing pile of worries and emotional tumults since she had found Bash poisoned.
After having left Linlithgow, having found no evidence of those she cared for to be dead or escaped, the convoy set out. It had been the initial plan that since they had not wished to leave a trail that the rogue army could follow that they would reclaim the carriages they had left all but abandoned, save thirty-two armed guards and one other, Robert.
But it appeared that their carriages, belongings and men had vanished upon their return so instead of sending men out to just the woods, neighboring villages and roads to seek out escaped villagers, she had to send men from the surplus of the battalion after the carriages as well.
She had been busy, but now it seemed there was nothing else she could do but wait. She wished for anything, some news, a task, something upon which to focus her attention other than all that had come to rest upon her weary mind. She was coming undone and knew not how to react.
Bash sighed in his worry over Mary's emotional turmoil. There had been moments where he could tell that the queen was full to losing her composure when in the village. When she had run into the estate anchoring the square without so much as allowing guards to search the premises first, he knew that something, someone, awfully important was in her concern. He had searched after her in a panic until he found her in a room that served as a nursery, clutching a baby's blanket to her bosom as she tried to hold back her tears. He hadn't the opportunity to ask what was happening before news of the survivor pulled them from their place and the moment had been lost.
He would try and learn what it was when they had a chance, but for now, he only wanted to care for her. "Perhaps you should try some bread instead, or I could ask Aonghas for a tincture. You seem unwell."
Mary knew he was speaking on more than just her physical state but was unwilling to open her heart on particulars in a room full of other men. "A tincture might do me well indeed. I would thank you to send a servant to request one be made."
Bash nodded his acceptance of her small quest and beckoned a servant over to do as she had asked. Once alone again he could not help himself any longer. As greatly as Mary was affected by what they had seen, all there had been as well. "It was barbaric." He started, hoping that she might speak of it in general terms if nothing else.
She nodded solemnly. "Poor souls of my countrymen." She sighed out, taking a sip of the wine that had sat untasted until that moment. "I looked right into the eyes of a mother, laid slain in the street, still with child." Memory of her recent vision had come to sit with her during those moments. How dearly she had internally wept for that poor mother, the child inside never having the opportunity to emerge into the world, never having chance to see the country which she rules.
She took this personally. These were her countrymen, the men, women, children that she was supposed to protect, and yet not a single man of her army seemed to be among those deceased. She wondered on that. "Where were the troops I had sent to protect the village?" She asked aloud to Bash, aware he was paying close attention to her every word. "Have we come to account for them?"
"I cannot say." He fortified himself with the remainder of wine in his cup. "There has been some talk of a possibility…" he trailed off, not wanting to say more.
"What possibility?" Some anger came through in her otherwise curious and worried tone. The last thing she wanted was for Bash to treat her as if she be delicate when it comes to matters of her rule. He had never done such a thing before. He would console her emotional tides and act as her support but he never questioned her state save for when they were alone and of their personal time. "Bash." She warned.
He held his hands in front of him so as to keep accusation away. "I pause not for your grace, but myself. I apologize." He gathered a needed breath. "It is difficult for me to contemplate the possibility of a company of Scotsmen abandoning their queen, or worse, turning on her."
She gasped in her understanding. "You think they might have done this? Or joined forces with the rogue army?"
"I know not what to think on the matter of your men. But I do know that I do not trust your Scotsman and Scottish troops anymore until we find the truth."
Mary sighed in exasperation, though became thankful when the servant returned with a tincture from Aonghas in hand. She knew not how to respond to Bash's admission for she agreed wholeheartedly on the notion. She could trust only Bash, her English troops (which was still something of a shock in nature) and Aonghas. She would certainly not doubt the man whom shared the vision she received.
"Your grace." Latharn and Dùghlas greeted simultaneously, just behind the departure of the servant. "Are you well?" Dùghlas continued, aware that he had interrupted some conversation of import between the French bastard and the queen. But he would not ask on it, not with the reminder of Bash's warning glare still fresh in his memory.
Mary gestured for them to join her and Bash at the table and drank of her tincture as the written directions stated. "I am simply in need of something to entice appetite."
Latharn nodded in full understanding. He had been none too keen on consuming anything other than his wine since he saw the bodies lying in the streets. "I could use such a tincture myself."
Bash could see through the men at the table quite well. They were too struck by the sight of so many innocent lives lost. It was that part, the innocent part, which got them. But dwelling was doing no one well, particularly Mary, so he decided to continue his efforts of understanding what had occurred and then perhaps they might make sense of how to handle the aftermath. "Gentlemen, have we any insight as to why such bloodshed had come to be laid out so plainly?"
Dùghlas shuddered visibly at the reminder. "During our search several of the men claim they noticed dragging marks, trails of blood leading from within the homes to the bodies in the street."
Bash could feel his disgust rising. "Then they must set them out on display. They wanted to show their power in this. They wanted to make it clear that the Protestants or rogue army, whichever it be, had the power and audacity necessary to overhaul full cities if they so wanted."
Latharn nodded gently, aware the queen took this upset personally. "That is what we believe, yes."
"Well, their message was received." Mary sighed, weary of all that had occurred in the name of having her head and the crown that rests a top it. "Is there any word yet on who might be controlling this rogue army, if indeed it be that force to perform the atrocity?"
Latharn was growing weary of all that had come about. "I do not wish to alarm your grace in saying so, but yes. The survivor from the village heard mention of a lord, Lord Roxburgh."
Her brow furrowed in confusion. "Lord Roxburgh is thought to be loyal to my mother. He is known to detest the Protestants."
"If I might." Bash interjected over Latharn's reply, aware it best this come from him. "I would point out to your grace that just because he might not be a Protestant does not mean he does not wish to sit upon your throne. Is that not right, Latharn?"
The older man was thankful for the bastard's intervention, aware that whatever of the affections between the queen and the French king's son, he was a well performing counsel and much trusted by his ruler. "Indeed, I do say so. Your grace, nothing of what we do know of the rogue army at the time indicated an exact relationship to the uprising in and of itself. It may well be that Lord Roxburgh, or another if it not be he, has simply decided to take advantage of the chaos erupting within our country and your return home to lead our forces."
Mary sighed, thankful to drain the cup of her wine that had been just refilled if only for a moment to think. But that moment was simply not enough. "Is there anything we can do tonight?"
Both men shook their heads. "Until the scouts return we have no direction on where we should travel. And unless news arrives calling us away we thought it best that the night be spent in recovery."
Mary rose from her seat, the men doing so as well. "Very well. If you would excuse me, I have much to consider."
All three men bowed, her countrymen lower than Bash who kept his eye keenly on her form as she left the room.
Her feet had taken her as swiftly as she could allow without appearing to be in distress to all the guards lining the halls. She was crumbling on the inside. Her men are betraying her, hundreds died in the name of their loyalty, their sacrifice in her service. She could know nothing of those she most wanted to protect. She brought destruction everywhere she went. Her mind was a well about to cave in above her.
She entered her chamber and immediately took to tearing through the single bag of clothing that she had strapped to her horse. She needed to find it, it was all she now had.
"Mary." Bash approached her side, trying to calm her frantic movements as garments came to be spilled upon the floor. "The guards are still watching." He tried to warn her, lest she feel the embarrassment of breaking down in front of her subjects.
Without turning she yelled to them. "All is fine in here. Close the door. I have much to discuss." She was only a shell of herself in the order, it coming to her lips without thought for all she be was invested in finding the article. "Of all the holy…" she grumbled, her frustration evident.
"Is this what you are looking for?" Bash held out a piece of cloth pulled from the small satchel he carried around his shoulders. He had found the item fallen upon the ground near her horse earlier that night. "Mary, whose is this?"
Her eyes gleamed in the fire light with unshed tears apparent as she walked towards him. "Thank you." Her breath shuddered as she took the baby's blanket into her hands. She had given this herself, by messenger, to the young lass nowhere to be found. "Thank you."
She clutched the blanket to her as she had done before and once she smelled the familiar baby smell could no longer contain herself, letting out the first of her wailing cry.
Immediately Bash was upon her, taking her into his arms as she slid against him, falling to the floor by the fire. He too came to sit upon the rug where she came to rest. "Mary." He soothed back her hair, pulling her into his chest for support, and whispering encouraging words until her breath evened and tears stalled after several minutes. "What was so important here, in Linlithgow?"
Mary's gaze lashed from her teary preoccupation of the sparks of the fire behind him to that of the man she so adores. "What could you mean?" She tried to sway his attention though knew full well how acute his sense of her ran. He must have been watching her, examining her all the while as she and her advisors discussed the matter. He must have seen how ardently she wished to keep harm from the village and truly, seeing all that she saw of those innocents lost was the most trying experience of all her life thus far.
Bash curled a lock of her hair around his finger, trying for full calm in his voice to lull her from her upset. "I know that we always expected our largest casualties in Linlithgow and so I understood when you were so insistent on sending extra protection to the village and of course your withdrawal once we got there. But there was something more ardent within you. There was something you wanted to protect." He fingered the fabric of the baby blanket she clutched up to her nose. "Someone you wanted to protect."
"Just how do you know how I react when I want to protect something?"
"Mary," he chastised. "I know you."
She sighed, resigned to the fact that he does know her and that he will not stop until he gets his answer. He was safe, warm, trustworthy. She could share this with him if no one else and she found that truly, she wanted to share with him. "Lola's family is-was- of Linlithgow." She admitted in a whisper with the hope it hid the pain she felt. "Her sister just recently gave birth to a daughter."
Bash now understood her ardent wish to avoid violence in the village, even at the cost of personally facing the rebels. "You think the blame will come to rest on you, that your friendship with Lola will be lost if the worst should happen."
Mary cast her gaze away, shame coming clear as she wiped the tears from her cheeks. "The worst is already about. It is likely they all are dead, including that innocent girl. The family is-was- so very loyal to me that the rebels had most likely did away with them first of anyone. I doubt they had opportunity to leave. Aonghas barely made it out alive, and he is a seer." She turned to him, her manner direct but dreadful, having already succumbed to personal defeat. "You may not have felt so before but surely now that you see me for what I am, someone whose presence always puts others in danger, you think the lesser of me."
He waited out the next few moments of her inconsolable crying before he turned his body more fully to face her so that she may see he had nothing to hide. "Mary, I do see you for what you are. You are a queen yes, but also a girl. Nay, you are a young woman." He reached one hand to her cheek, to steady her gaze upon him. This is something she must come to understand. "And I know that woman's heart; I see her pain. You came here out of service to your people. If your arrival means someone is trying to take opportunity on your head that is not a fault to lay with you. It is their sin. Even with this loss you are saving many, many more than would otherwise survive through this conflict if it is not stopped swiftly. If Lola's niece survives this it will be because you sent troops to save any who may have escaped. That is what you do Mary. You save kingdoms, you save young girls, you save me."
Mary's eyes once again filled with tears at his reassurance and into his embrace she came. Sitting there by the fire, being consoled by the man she loves so dearly, gave her the one truly great relief she had experienced thus far since he held her last, while consoling her after she sentenced Robert to his execution. In fact, as she reflected upon it, the only relief she had come to feel all day, in all of many months, had all been in his effort, at his workings, his fetching of an apothecary or taking her hand into his own. "You save me also, Bash. Truly." She chuckled softly. "You must always play the hero."
"That's the spirit." He ran his index finger over her chin. "Sometimes a queen just needs a good cry."
She chuckled a bit more, comforted by the return of his cheeky tone. "I suppose." The queen felt less the monarch and more the girl in his arms, snuggling close into him. "I just hope I can recover. I hope I can end this all soon."
Sebastian's hands found themselves warming her arms. "You will. I know you have some idea of how to make peace with the Protestants."
"I do. I just don't know how to fight off this rogue army."
"It will come in time Mary. We will know soon enough."
She looked into his eyes with a nod, thankful for his reassurance before tucking her face into his chest. "Again, thank you."
He sighed into her hair as he came to rest his chin upon her crown. She sounded stronger now than she had at any moment since they reached the village bounds and took in the first victims. He was in awe of her ability to rebound from something most women of her high position in society were entirely insulated from experiencing. She was delicate and strong, commanding and yet so caring as to see to an apothecary's welfare, send a babe a blanket, or nurse him back to health.
He wanted to tell her how he felt just then but thought better of it. Not only was the timing utterly terrible but penniless bastards do not proclaim love for the queens that have stolen their hearts. They only hint and flirt, make plans to protect them, love them from the shadows and keep hope within that somehow a force of God or man allows them some form of happiness with one another.
He looked down into his arms upon her face, fast asleep as if she had never slept before. He could not help but smile at the sight. "Someday, Mary." He placed a gentle kiss upon her forehead. "Someday, you will know on your own just how it is I feel for you."
He breathed her scent for several more minutes until deciding to place her in bed, the babe's blanket at her side. He removed to his own quarters, reluctant for the sake of his distrust of the Scottish men in the outpost but once he saw her guards to be English he too found some sleep that night.
That was, until before the morning should have even begun.
"Sir," his servant shook his form, trying to rouse him. "News has come. You must awake with haste."
Bash took note of the still dark sky out his window as he dressed and ordered his servant to wake the queen once he heard of the matter on which the news regarded. He nearly bounced down the stairs to the main hall of the outpost where stood two scouts, each with much it appeared they wanted to say.
All bowed to Mary as she arrived in her clothing worn the day before.
"What news have we of such urgency?" Mary made only momentary eye contact with Bash, aware that he must have put her to bed the night before. After all he had done to console her, lift her back to her full mind and heart, he continued to care for her. For this, and so much more, she was truly grateful.
"Your majesty. I have news on the carriages gone missing." The elder of the two scouts began. "I found them nearly a mile out of direction, pointed towards Edinburgh. Your majesty, thirty one bodies were found outside of the carriages."
Mary inhaled sharply, aware that left two men missing. "All were guards?"
He nodded, intimidated by the powerful woman standing before him. "I have found one guard barely alive. He be with your apothecary now."
She and her French counsel shared a glance, knowing who lay unaccounted. "An odd position for the carriages to be in, for sure. Anything else of interest?"
The young man once again nodded. "It appears that your carriage was set ablaze by way of arrow." Here he hesitated. "I found the remains of someone inside, a scrap of your cloak, four shackles."
Understanding came about her on the identity of those remains.
"Your majesty." A servant that had been assigned to Aonghas interrupted with his bow. "The guard reports that your nobleman left behind had suggested the move once they saw an army passing the road which would lead to Linlithgow. They moved their interest away from the village and the outpost."
Bash made a full realization then. "They made to fake your death when they knew they were to be overrun. Robert…" he closed his eyes involuntarily, a small prayer being offered to God in the name of the man. "He directed the effort, took one of your cloaks from your luggage. He…"
"He pretended to be me for they set the carriage ablaze by arrow and would assume I be dead and no longer target me." Mary finished, not needing the confirmation of Bash's nod to know the truth of the statement. Her man, the man that had betrayed her had voluntarily given his life in service to the queen he only ever wanted to serve, as misguided as some of his ideas had been. "I know not what to say."
None of them did.
"I too, your majesty, have news of importance." The other scout came forward with another bow. "I rode to Edinburgh in search of survivors but found none. What I did find was word circulating of your death."
Mary and her three advisors all shared a look of urgency. "If they think that I am dead…"
Dùghlas was very much on the same page as his queen. "Ready the horses!" He called to the servants, aware of his peer Latharn already set in gathering the commanders of the English battalion in readying the men.
Bash instructed them to be prepared by dawn, they would leave at first light. He barked orders for the scouts to run for more companies to converge on Edinburgh and to send for half of the remaining reserve of English forces that Mary had yet to take advantage of sitting just over the border and at the ready. Then, he ran up the stairs with Mary in tow. "You know we must to Edinburgh."
"I know. They think I am dead. They are going to try to take my crown by parliamentary action, or worse, by overrunning my mother."
He nodded as he brought her into his chamber, rifling through his belongings in much the same manner she had done the night before. "You must dress in these." He handed her a small bundle.
She looked to the proffered, confusion evident on her face. They were clothes, his clothes. "You wish me to dress as a man?"
"Mary." Bash held her arms in his urgency. "You are dead in their eyes. It is our greatest advantage in avoiding conflict on the journey. They cannot see you if we are to pass any scout or army, rogue or otherwise, on our way to Edinburgh. Do you understand?"
Mary nodded her realization of the fact and set off to her room to dress. She felt so odd, the clothes were too large on her frame but from afar she would likely pass as a man. She took the hat of one of the scouts, tying her hair atop her head and tucking it beneath the cap. She even borrowed a pair of men's shoes from the outpost storage to be sure to disguise anything that might giveaway on her identity.
She left behind her belongings, other than the baby's blanket which she stuffed into Bash's outer coat to allow its fit more uniform on her body and down she ran to her advisors and counsel awaiting outside the outpost entrance.
"Your grace." Her men bowed, none brave enough to make comment on her attire for all understood that in desperate times a woman must act according to her needs. "Your horse awaits."
She took to her steed with Bash at her side thankful that the nuns had taught her how to ride like a man.
"You look beautiful in anything." The counsel let his smile to her show the genuine nature of the compliment, looking upon the woman so transformed from the vulnerability of last night into the commanding queen she embodied. "Are you ready, Mary?"
The Scottish queen blushed as she looked over the full company of men waiting for her command to set out, each ready and willing to die for her and their country. Despite all her guilt over the losses of her countrymen yesterday and her fear for all that lay ahead she knew in her heart that this was the role for which she was meant. She was a queen. She was now leader of a combined army large enough to take down all of France if it desired.
"I am."
"Then let us be off." Bash gave the order and soon the companies fell into line, beginning the four mile journey to Edinburgh.
It was still nearly dark outside, only half of the skyline illuminated from the sun on the horizon. The air was cold, the collective breaths of the men surrounding her creating a cloud of what looked to be smoke. There was a charge in this air, of anticipation, fear.
All that Mary knew was that she was in good company with whom she decided to keep beside her. She looked to her friend, the man always to be found nearby and willing to serve and knew that whatever armies lay ahead they would defeat them, together; that whatever challenges to her crown might have already taken place, they would remove them, together. Yes, she was well prepared for all that lay ahead so long as Bash was at her side.
"Tell the men to extinguish the torches." Sebastian ordered of one of the commanders, now that the daylight was allowing safe passage without them. It would be to their benefit if the remaining half hour of twilight be spent in the ability to not signal their presence with the collective glow emanating from the men.
Mary's smile, one distilled in roguish integrity from all her time spent with Bash grew steadily. "Command suits you."
He glanced at her from the side, wondering what had changed her so drastically from the night before. But whatever it be, he was happy to see her smile, confident and ready to do what must be done. "I am the son of a King, Mary." He reminded her, some cheekiness of his own coming to return. "Though I admit I would rather take my try at running through mud with you, I too enjoy how it feels under foot."
She let out a breathy laugh at that. "Then perhaps we should arrange for such an occasion when all is said and done."
Bash simply nodded his consent, keeping that sentiment close to heart for when he could find time to make use of it. "There is an army ahead."
The queen's manner turned to direct as she set out the order for silence in passing the army clearly lit in a field a quarter mile to their right. If they remain silent, without light of their own, they might very well be able to pass without being spotted, or at least not until they had gained significant ground.
The moments were tense. Mary could feel herself in constant watch of the glow beside them. She could hear a ruckus and was thankful for her men's quick action that morning for she was sure she knew what was about. She recognized music that should not belong here. "Bash!" she whispered in a frenzy.
He had heard it too. "French."
"What are French forces doing here?" She whispered to Bash and Latharn on either side of her frantically. "Did you make some request? I told Thomas to specifically refuse French support."
Bash emphatically denied any involvement in this. "There should be no reason for them here. Unless they be left from…oh." His realization set instantaneously.
"Share."
Bash was overcome with anger at the moment. "When we last sent French support a company was lost along your boarder. We were told it was in a battle against the English in Kelso."
"Lord Roxburgh." Mary gasped. That was his area of her country. "How could he have convinced them to support him?"
"Our French commander had released their command to him when he had taken ill. Your lord reported that all but three men had died in the effort, those three so injured they could not be transported home for some time." He looked to her with apology. "We should have seen this. He was waiting for you to take over control of the forces of the English, tell my men it was a threat against Scotland."
Mary was angry as well at her once thought loyal subject. "His cousin is English, married to one of the lord's found to be privy to the plot against Mary Tudor."
"Someone was a busy man."
"Indeed." She shook her head, the evidence against her subject piling fast enough to nearly issue a conviction. "When we reach the city, the whole of parliament is likely to be in the Lord's room. Roxburgh has armies of his own. If he retained the French he is going to use them to try and demonstrate that he has the support of another crown in taking position, that he can fight off the English forces that had slain me and so many others in Linlithgow."
"Then we shall get to the castle first." Bash called the order. "And when we do you will take care of cleaning up Scotland."
The whole of the convoy picked up speed. Through the work of scouts they learned that the French army was now mobile and a mile behind their pace. Mary was becoming increasingly nervous, her blood coursing through her with eagerness to see her home, her mother, her court.
The castle came into view and she took off into a full gallop, gaining ground on her men and leading them to the fore, Bash at her side where he was always to be found and her advisors in the rear.
"Halt!" the Scottish guards called to them, weapons raised. They did not recognize their queen. To them this looked like an English army about to converge on their court.
Mary whipped off her hat, took down her hair and called to them. "Lower your weapons!"
A Scottish scout of her's road before the confused men, clearly at a loss for what order to follow. They could not be sure who be riding to them at such speed, save that she be a woman in man's clothes, but Mary could see the moment recognition deigned as they spoke to her man. Their weapons lowered, as did their heads.
She road by. "Trust only my men before you."
Soon, she found she and Bash alone for the rest of her company had come to surround the castle and join force in its protection. They arrived before the entrance of the castle and jumped off their horses before running inside, up the stairs and to the hall where she must go.
Bash followed her closely, amazed she remembered her way through the old castle after not having been here since a young child. Truly, he was amazed at all she had become. Her hair flowed in the wind as she road to save her crown and her people, his people as well. Her legs took her through the halls with great speed in her eagerness to set right the people of her country. She was a true sight and he was honored to be of her service.
They made their way through the castle and came upon the closed door of the Lord's room, chaos, yelling, banging of tables clearly heard from beyond.
"Mary," Bash stalled her frantic movement for a single moment. He brushed back her hair from her cheeks, flushed in their nerves and took her close in his arms before gently kissing her cheek. "I told you that you could stop this rebellion."
Her heart fluttered in the cusp of his embrace, the spot on her cheek where he had laid his lips burning in an intense glow of energy. She knew if those lips had landed on her own instead there was nothing that would have kept her from returning the gesture, the presence of the lords on the other side of this door be damned. But even in her sublime moment of reveling in the affections that the kiss upon her cheek spoke out, his words were not lost upon her. This was it. She knew the cause of the factors that had made this rebellion all the worse and she knew how to appease the Protestants of her homeland.
She was ready, and of no small part was because of him. "Thank you, Sebastian."
Together they opened the double doors and took in the room, took in Lord Roxburgh claiming that the English army was outside and ready to attack, that it was a good thing he had called on the assistance of the French.
Bash slammed the doors closed with such noise that all in the room quieted immediately as Mary walked forth in her regal stance before them, in front of where her mother sat upon the throne. "Is this how my court welcomes home its queen?"
The faces among them were all stunned and it took a full moment for each of them before they could all gather their wits at the words coming from the woman in men's apparel. From the corner of her eye she could see Bash's typical smile rise in its mischief as her men, one by one, came to bow before her.
She returned her expression to the man at her side with only a single cornered smirk before she walked closer to the subservient forms of her court. "My Lords, mother. I have come to claim my throne."
Bash watched as recognition of what she was saying came to claim their eyes and inside he laughed in joy. Mary truly was meant for rule.