a/n: part two of shelter:)

It had been several days since she arrived on his land. And, it would seem, he did nothing but care for her. He fed her, gave her plenty of tea and the best water she had ever tasted, and he made sure the room was warm and kept her in blankets. It would start snowing soon- and she couldn't be more thankful that she had happened on him of all people.

But every time she tried to express her gratitude he would only gesture to the wooden cross above his door, telling her it was their duty, as Christians to love one another.

"You'd be surprised," she said.

He chuckled at that, a little bitterly. "The sincere among us, do what we can anyway."

And she was glad that she believed him, because he was so patient and so kind and so humble...

Now, after these several days,she was well enough to rise- and she wished that she were not. But she could not stay. If her lady's men found her... he would suffer for aiding her. So, when he went out to collect wood for the furnace, she got up from the bed, went over to the window. As she watched him, a smile blossomed on her face. Until he looked up, to see her there. He grinned at her, and she looked away.

"You're up," he said as he opened the door, but, as the realization settled on him, his smile wavered.

"Yes," she said. "And I will be out of your way within the hour."

"But- there is a storm about to set in," he blurted out . It was true. But really, he would have said anything to make her stay. "Perhaps you should wait, a bit longer."

She looked at him carefully, her handsome stranger. And, all too ready to agree with him, she nodded.

"Where were you going, when you found me?"

He was right- a storm thundered outside.

So he set to ask her more questions. It was something of a game they played when they ate. He would as her something, and she would answer and then ask him something too. He knew that she hated cabbage, her horse's name was Mouse, and she was seventeen. And now she knew that he went by Bash, he was almost twenty, and his favorite color was green.

This was the first serious question he had asked her since the day he took her in.

"I don't know," she said. She had been traveling for days- the idea of a destination only meant someplace where her lady's guard would not be trampling up behind her. "I suppose- there is a city, just north of here. The land is under, is it the-"

"The De Poitiers." He said, nodding.

"You know it?"

He nodded again, more sullen.

"Is it a large city?" She sat up straighter. "Could I hide there?"

"It's big enough." He shrugged. "Why did your lady accuse you?"

"It's my turn."

"You took your turn when you asked if it was a large enough city to hide in." He gave her a smile, more somber than usual.

She scowled, but, fair was fair.

"Her name is Lola. She's a noble woman, and she hasn't always been this way," Mary said, tenderly, as the subjected ached in the back of her chest. "We were dear friends once. I was only a servant- but she liked me so well... that she asked me to be one of her ladies. My actual station didn't change much, but my duties did. We were friends." She paused, breathed. "But, when she and her husband, Julian, lost their first baby, in childbirth, she was different. And I couldn't blame her. Could anyone, really?" She shrugged very small, concentrating very hard on dissolving the lump in her throat. "But, she became- so cold. So that, when her husband asked me, if she had confided anything to me, anything that might help him to help her... she saw us, and she assumed... but it was nothing. He loves her far too much- as did I. But she did not talk to him. Only to one of her guard, who had compassion enough to warn me, to give me a head start."

"And now this guard is hunting you?" His brow furrowed fiercely at this.

Mary shook her head. "He is loyal to her- I cannot begrudge him that."

Anger heated within him. Nobles. The lot of them. The irony of the title.

"She was my friend." A wash of tears filled her eyes, but she would not cry. His face softened; he took her hand. And, again, she was grateful that it was him.

"And you," she said, softly, less concerned with the game than with changing the subject. "Where are you from, Bash?"

She had been so honest with him. He owed her the same.

When he had been young, he lived a life of privilege- with privileged rights and privileged friends. Reckless and indulgent, he lived as careless as he pleased- and they went to mass and confessed and assumed all was well.

Until he met a girl, a peasant, in the city. Her name was Rowan, and she was so different from his noble friends. She was honest, and brave, and gentle. But she was a pagan.

When his friends, the nobility, found out, they exiled her. And by the time he found out, she was long gone, deep in the woods, already consumed by exposure.

He despised them- his friends. How could they? They were selfish, wicked, despicable people. They used their power to keep the weak and the small at their mercy, not to help those they claimed to protect. And he- how could he have been like them? Now that he saw them for what they were?

And then his mother took ill. When she passed, it was already more than he could bare.

All the land and title and power passed to him. But he didn't want any of it.

He assigned a steward to manage his affairs, and came here- where there were no games, no hypocrisies.

A pause broke the sound. He had held her hand this whole time, and, now, she clasped her other hand around his, encapsulating his palm in both of hers.

"My name is Sebastian De Poitiers. And the city you would flee toward, is mine."

a/n: hope this clears some things up. there will be more of this to come:)

and, i know mary is fleeing from the house of valois but then lola is the noble woman so that doesn't make sense and blah blah blah. i'm appropriating. it's au. also, i have nothing against lola. her circumstance simply inspired a plausible way to shape a vendetta.

thanks for reading. please review! :)