a/n: au. where the dauphin just doesn't come up. because, for once, it would be nice to see something where bash doesn't have to compete with francis. that's right: he does not exist here. enjoy.

Along the edge of a wood, as the sun teetered along the rim of the earth, in a slice of silver light cutting through the land, she rode- and rode and rode and rode- until a figure emerged in the distance, and she let her horse slow.

"Help me," the girl said. "Please,"

And then she fell into the arms of a stranger.

Sebastian De Poitiers confined himself to a simple existence. When his mother died, he withdrew, away from the place where he grew up, here, to a tiny cottage at the edge of the forest. The place comforted him in his youth- he sought after the same now. But its solitude only numbed his grief.

Still, he attached himself to the isolation. At the very least, it was peaceful.

He seldom received visitors- and never strangers.

So when this stunning, but battered, young lady collapsed from her horse, he was stunned. Without thinking, he caught her. He glanced from the girl to her onyx horse. The exhausted animal panted, calm and alert. His eyes turned back to her.

Well what was he supposed to do with her?

... she was beautiful though. Rich dark hair and full berry lips and a thick blind of black eyelashes.

He couldn't very well drop her back into the grass. He sighed.

Hoisting her up, the way men did their brides, he carried her toward his home.

Where... am I?

She woke with a panic. Alarmed, she attempted to sit up. She had no idea where she was- not that it mattered. She was far too weak to run or defend herself or even to plead they spare her.

"You're awake,"

A pleasing voice eased over her. A boy opened the door, a pile of fire wood in his arms.

The boy- the one she'd seen. She vaguely sculpted a memory.

"Your horse is in the stable. I hope you don't mind,"

She shook her head. Relief spread through her. She leaned her head back, calmed by the simple fact that this was not her lady's house. Whoever he was, he could not do worse to her than what she ran from.

He handed her a hot cup of steaming liquid.

"Drink this,"

Yes. A pleasant voice- but, uncomfortable? Disrupted.

Without thought, parched, she gulped a mouthful of the fluid. Tea.

"Thank you," she said, still hoarse. For the first time, she looked- really looked- at the man who had taken her in. He was... handsome. "I'm so sorry. To impose,"

"It's," he wedged a log in the furnace. The room was cold- he'd have to fix that for her- but slowly taking to the fire he tended. "I'm unaccustomed to visitors- strangers," he stood up.

Really, she was lovely. Had she been less beautiful or less helpless, he might have tried to wake her earlier. "What were you running from?"

Her face dropped to her tea cup.

"Not that it matters. It's-" he saw the sadness in her, and felt compassion for her. "You can stay, here."

"No, I'd-" it would be better if she didn't. The trouble she might bring down on this stranger, who was being so kind to her, steered her thoughts.

"It's alright," he gestured to the cross hanging above his door. Besides, she was in no state to get up from the bed, much less get back on her horse. "It's-" he felt... compelled to help her. "I'm Sebastian."

Her eyes found his. "I'm Mary." She breathed. And, if he was going to be so kind to her, he deserved to know. "And my lady has accused me of adultery."

He didn't ask if it was true- didn't even blink.

"There are worse things."

"But it isn't true." She said softly.

"So why are you running?"

"Because, my lady is evil."

He chuckled, and a hint of a smile emerged on her face, in spite of the inappropriateness of it.

How long had she been running?

Days.

Where was she coming from?

The house of Valois.

Did she need any thing?

No- not anything more than he had given her. He was already being so generous.

He hardly called soup and some blankets generous.

"Thank you." She said.

He shrugged. "I couldn't very well leave you there- after you swooned."

She blushed.

"Besides," he gestured to the cross hanging over his door again.

"You're a minister?"

He chuckled. "Not exactly."

After a slight pause, curiosity drove her to speak.

"Who are you?" She shook her head. He spoke so articulately- and he was so handsome and so kind. She couldn't imagine him wanting to be alone as he was. And he had to be alone. The house was so small, there couldn't possibly be anyone else.

"Not who you'd think." His eyes found hers, and he felt it.

He looked at her, this girl. And something stirred in him. And, for the first time in a very long time, he was happy not to be alone.

a/n: if you liked it, there will be more installments:)

special thanks to: iloverob32 kqshipalot Carito1988. and SUPER THANKS to chrisrose and Bashful Masher S2 so much love guys. so much love.