a/n: hello loves;) a quick anecdote of epiphany for my mashers- because y'all will understand.

science teacher: what makes a ship sink?

student we thought was really dumb: when the other ship has a cannon.

me: (*eyes widen*)

me:(*mouth drops open*)

me: (**OMFG**)

me: WHAT IS THE MEANING OF LIFE?

and now, part two of run away with me.

Mary slept poorly along the edge of the forest- and Bash not at all. And not just because he was holding a beautiful girl with the softest lips... and legs...

Control the thoughts control the thoughts control the thoughts.

It was only a kiss.

They were still in danger. And the goal was to keep her safe... the goal would always be to keep her safe.

"Time to rise your highness," he said as a tangerine sun peeked over the horizon. He jostled her gently. She roused- but only enough to nuzzle her face between his neck and shoulder- in a way that left his skin feeling particularly warm. So, rather gracelessly, he hoisted her up over his shoulder again, and she woke with a yelp.

"No." She said, in a flat, alert voice, gaining her bearings.

"Well I can't very well ask you to walk." He smirked. He gave a small hop, like he meant to resettle her weight. He glanced cheekily over his shoulder to see her indignant blush peeking through her long dark hair.

"No." She said. "Absolutely not. Not in the light of day."

He plopped her down without prejudice, snickering to himself at her indignant scowl.

"I am perfectly capable-"

"I know," he said, taking her hand in his. "But you are without a shoe."

He looked down to see her single bare foot.

All that they'd gone through, and he was worried about her walking through the wet grass. She smiled at the sweetness of the gesture. And she could not describe the fondness that swelled within her at that moment.

So she stood on the tips of her toes, and she kissed him.

There plan was to escape. He'd need refuge far away- say, like, out of the country maybe? And she was a queen of a country far enough for the both of them.

But first, they needed to get her dressed. And shoe-d. And they should probably get some proper sleep, as the nearest port- that would (quietly)transport fleeing royals and reluctant usurpers- was still miles away. And for those things, they would need to find a town. And he knew of just the right one, diverged from the road, with a small inn.

"This town," she said, "We'll be safe there?"

"It's more of a village," he said. "They're humble people- not the kind who would recognize nobility... or bastards."

"Are we going to cause them trouble?"

"Only if the guard haven't already harassed them."

Mary winced.

He nudged her chin up. "Soon we'll be long gone," he said. "And you can forget about this mess."

"I think they thought I was a harlot."

She side glanced at Bash, before laughing at herself. She laughed so hard she snorted- but cute, and endearing, not like a pig. And he wondered how anyone could not fall in love with her. The woman who sold her the dress, a humble teal garment, like the other villagers might wear, had nearly fallen over herself when the pair stepped in, Mary's legs and one foot all covered in dirt. And then when they'd asked for one room, it seemed like she might have fainted. He laughed with her.

They sat in the dark corner of the pub of the inn where they planned to stay- because after all this, they needed a drink. And Mary was enchanted by the simplicity here- a little bit jealous of it. How happy everyone in this small village seemed. And she longed a little bit, for what they had. And Bash, he fit right in here.

He smiled at her, looked out to where the moon hung in the velvet sky.

"Alright, your grace, I believe you've had plenty for one night."

"Oh but look Bash! They're dancing." She hiccuped, making herself giggle all the more. "One dance. Please? Before we go?"

He looked out to where the common people danced, nothing like they did at court. If she weren't entirely sauced, she might have stuck out like like a diamond in a bag of potatoes. But it could be amusing... "Alright. One. Then off to bed."

He gestured for her to go to the floor on her own. But, she grabbed him by the arm. He should have known to never underestimate the strength of drunk people.

He found her compressed against his chest, attempting to mimic the jaunty movements of the pub crowd surrounding them. She laughed every time she stumbled. And, though he wasn't much for dance, he would do it for her. Until the song ended and she crashed into him one last time. As the giggles spilled up from her lively rosy lips, he kissed her, here, in public, with unexpected fervor. And she wrapped her arms over his neck and he thought about what it would be like if they were both normal people.

She stumbled to their room, his arm holding her up, under the shoulders by the ribs. Clumsily, he guided her through the door into the sweet darkness of the inn.

Until she tripped, dragging him down with her, so that he hovered over her on the bed. At first she giggled, until her face took on a happy seriousness as she reached for his face, tracing her hand down his jaw.

And she kissed him- with more desperation and desire and passion than she knew she had. His lips held their own against hers- his tongue tracing her lower lip, pulling at her mouth- and his body lurched forward. He kissed at her jaw, her throat, her chest.

"I," he tensed, breathing heavily. "I don't want you to regret this." He could stop. He could stop if he had to.

She took her face in his hands.

"The only thing I regret," she said, feeling more sober now than she had before their escape. "Is that you think it would be possible for me to regret you."

So he collided back to her.