Author's Note: I don't own Reign, but the story is generally mine. Inspired somewhat by the fantastic 'Queen of Camelot. by Nancy McKenzie. History has been altered, so consider yourself warned. This is definitely AU!
Mary had finally fallen asleep with tears still gracing her face. She tossed and turned most of the night, much like how a ship is tossed about on the ocean waves. Mary's ocean was her emotions, rocking her violently side to side. And just as a sailor might find himself on a sea, Mary awoke the following morning with a knot in her stomach, a quiet uneasiness that racked her body. She ate little at breakfast, despite the incessant prodding of her ladies.
"Mary, we have a long journey ahead of us today, you need to eat something before we leave," urged Aylee, her sweet tone earning a smile from Mary, "at least let me get you some toast?"
Mary acquiesced, thanking Aylee for being considerate. She glanced towards her window, dawn's early morning rays casting shades of pinks and purples on the wall. Before long, the rays would be golden, shining brightly, much like a crown. If she could survive another week, with just her ladies and her escorts, Mary would find herself safely ensconced within castle walls, walls which would be her new home. She could devote her time to getting to know Francis, the other nobles that may be at court, and just her way around. Her time could be spent thinking of anything but him. She must not let her thoughts dwell on him.
Aylee arrived quickly with the toast, and Mary concentrated on eating small bites, making sure her stomach stayed calm.
The following hour caused Mary and her ladies further tears. They had loved the Lord and Lady Carme as their own family, and would miss them terribly. Mary assured them that they would be invited to the royal wedding and coronation, and obviously back to French court once things became reestablished. They thanked her for her generosity, both hugging her. Though they were not biological family, the warmth exuded by their hugs felt like home, much like his arms had felt.
She admonished herself for thinking of him again so easily. She stole a glance, catching him gently stroking his horse, speaking softly to her as he did. Smiling at the sweet scene, she turned back, meeting Lola's gaze unexpectedly. Mary could sense worry and curiosity from her friend, both tinted with a bit of anger. Mary felt the spike of jealously again, just as she had the day before.
"Mary, it is time to leave," Greer stated, already seated but holding the door of the carriage open for her Queen.
Mary glanced back at the Lord and Lady Carme, arms around each other smiling sadly. Mary dared a wave, feeling assaulted by her emotions again. Lady Carme waved in response as Lord Carme graciously bowed. This was a turning point, Mary realized, where she went from being just Mary, to being a Queen.
She tilted her head in response, placing a foot on the first carriage step. Kenna, Aylee and Greer sat on one side, chatting excitedly amongst themselves. Lola sat opposite them, patting the open seat beside her for Mary. Slowly, Mary lowered herself by Lola, the seat squeaking due to previous disuse. It was still a beautiful piece of work, velvet fabric covering the seat and brocade on the walls. Gold trimmed the windows and doors, dark lace covering the small window openings.
A startled squeal filled the carriage as it lurched forward, the ladies giggling together in response. The road was rough, and the carriage was dusty, plumes of dust and dirt puffed from the corners with every dip and crevice in the road. Lola coughed, waving a hand in front of her face to clear the air. Reaching for the window, Mary pulled the lace aside, gazing out on the countryside.
"You are going to let the dirt in, Mary," chastised Lola.
"This will be my country," Mary replied, "and I need to see it." There was no need to mention Mary could also see Bash up ahead of the carriage, his back sitting handsomely in his saddle atop an equally beautiful brown mare. She watched his head constantly move, always on the alert. She watched the wind rustle his hair, tossing the brown strands about carelessly. The movement gave him a wild, untamed quality that Mary found intriguing, as if the primal wildness of nature radiated from within him. She sighed, feeling the heat creep into her cheeks.
"See Kenna, even Mary is blushing listening to your exploits," Greer exclaimed, drawing Mary's attention back to her ladies. Mary hesitated, knowing she must have missed a crazy story, probably one that did not need repeating. Thankfully, her pause could come across as disapproval rather than a lack of paying attention. As she drew her focus back to her ladies, she knew this week would be entirely too long.
The first night was uneventful, as Mary spent most of the evening cloistered with her ladies. Sebastian, Luke and Claude had created a small camp, providing tent space for the women as they slept under the stars. The men took turns watching the surrounding trees and road, creating a sense of safety for the traveling party.
Mary laid on the hard ground, rocks and twigs causing her back discomfort even through the thick blanket layers. A burst of wind caught the tent flap, and Mary caught a brief glimpse of Bash's profile. The skin she had lovingly touched just days before glowed in the flickering shadows of the campfire. As if sensing her eyes upon him, Sebastian turned his head slowly. He held her gaze, neither blinking. It could have been hours they locked gazes, and though Mary was weary from travel, her eyes refused to budge. He turned his head back towards the expanse before them, and Mary finally let her lids drift close.
At least the first travel day was complete.
Mary continued to keep the curtains drawn back from the carriage window. She wanted to see the countryside, understand the plight of her new people. The mountains had kept her safe, for which she was thankful, but it also removed her from the horrors of war, and she did not know what to expect.
Sebastian had told her some, but words could not always convey the true context of carnage. She was not expecting to see human causalities, but she did not know what other horrors she might find.
Halfway into the second day, they came across the ruins of a church. The steeple lay crushed among the growing weeds, the mighty stone expanse of the ceiling crumbling in on itself. Outside the church was a small cemetery, a line of freshly mounded dirt the only indication of several new graves. From Mary's vantage point, she could see no other signs of life. The rest of the day was quiet. They passed nothing else of consequence, but Mary did note the vibrancy of the green grass, and the trees stripped of bark. She made note to ask Bash about those soon.
By the third day, Mary was ready to be finished traveling. She loved her ladies, but being cooped up with Kenna, whom she now knew more about than was proper, and Lola, whose critical eye watched Mary wherever she went, wherever she looked, was almost too much to bear.
They all sat around the campfire that night, conversing quietly and enjoying stretching their legs, all stiff from travel. Though used to riding horses for long periods of time, Sebastian still was sore from being jostled around. Bash scraped the remnants of his dinner into the fire, sidestepping the logs to move and sit by Mary. She smiled briefly up at him before returning her tired eyes to the fire.
"How do you find your journey so far, Your Grace?" Sebastian asked, breaking the several day silence between them. Mary rolled her eyes at the use of her title, but chuckled nonetheless.
"I expected to see more devastation," Mary replied, but quickly adding, "but I am glad I have not."
"You will see more the closer we get to the Chateau, unfortunately," Bash replied sadly.
"Why is everything so green?" Asked Mary suddenly, the question nagging at her since the previous day.
"That happens with scorched earth," answered Bash, turning to face Mary, "the ash and fire act to enrich the soil, strangely enough, and ..."
"And the trees?" interrupted Mary, and Bash smiled, enjoying the sound of her voice once more. He had missed the way her words wrapped around him, a pure velvet that was as soft as it was sensuous.
"They will look at little worse for wear for a few years. The flames eat away at the bark, but as long as the tree survives, it will come back."
"That is good," sighed Mary, "but did they have to burn so much?" He could see the sadness in her face as she just began to understand the full trauma of what the country had been through. It had been damaged from the ground up.
"That is a product of a war of attrition. The emperor wanted to demoralize us in order to conquer us," he paused, watching Mary closely, "but of course his attempts failed. If anything, it worked against him."
"How so?" pondered Mary, curious as to how men view and relate to war.
"For many of us, me included, the anger and hatred I felt at what was happening to France gave me the will to fight harder than I ever could have," Bash acknowledged, placing his hand on the log beside him. His fingers were within inches of where Mary rested her own, and she felt the pull to touch him once more. This time, it was Mary who moved first, placing her hand upon his.
"I hope to never see you in battle," whispered Mary, her fingers ghosting over his in the slightest of motions.
"All you need to know if I will fight for the things, and people, I love," breathed Bash, his words laced with meaning, "even if it means I sacrifice myself to do so." Mary felt the air constrict in her lungs at his words. He would fight for her, and he would die for her if needed. A sense of dread came over Mary, as if his words were a premonition. His departure in the library, the way he left her after their first kiss, and his words now, all haunted Mary, and she shivered.
"You must not say such things," Mary stuttered, her eyes moist.
"Which part?" Bash questioned, emotion laying heavy in his own voice.
"That you would die for those you love," she answered quickly. He broke the trance he felt from her gaze, standing suddenly.
"I need to go check on the horses," he paused, stepping away from her. He gazed back at Mary, knowing she continued to watch him. He tilted his head, an unanswered request on his features. Mary emitted a gasp of realization, and then gave a simple nod. She watched his retreating form. An evening fog had began to drift in, and she quickly lost his form in it. A quick glance around the campfire proved to Mary that her companions were occupied, including the ever watchful Lola. Without a sound, Mary left her spot on the log, fading into the mist just as Bash had.
She took a few tentative steps, the chilly mist obscuring her vision. She pulled her shawl tighter, the coolness of the moist air sending shivers down her arms. She was afraid to stray to far from the campfire, the voices of her ladies already faint behind her. The horses were close, she could tell by the smell, but the darkness still held her captive. Fear kept her arms around her chest, instead of reaching out into the thick cloud before her. Mentally, Mary laughed at herself. The one thing she had tried to do during their travels was keep her distance. She wanted to be courteous, but aloof. For that is how her conduct must be at court.
But here she found herself, walking blindly into the mist after a man she could not have. The stillness of the air enveloped Mary. She could feel the pound of her heart within her chest, its beats echoing in her ears. She thought the surrounding trees must feel it too, the steady thrumming. Mary started to doubt herself. She should not have followed Bash, it was too risky. Maybe it was the fog clouding her judgement, or the way the camp firelight danced against the surrounding mist that mesmerized Mary, but either way her feet did not move.
A ghostly breeze caressed Mary's cheek, and the wind called to her. She closed her eyes, the wind calling to her again. Mary, it whispered seductively, and she felt it's sudden warmth. She heard her name again, the wind carrying a deep husky quality. Gasping, Mary swiveled. She found her body mere inches from Bash's. Though with their proximity she could see him clearly, they were mercifully obscured from other prying eyes.
Her mouth moved to speak, but no words were uttered. Instead, she felt a moan escape from her lips, rumbling from deep within her. In an instant, his arms had encircled her waist, pulling her roughly against him. His mouth had found hers, and his lips had been urgent. The moan she released surprised her, for she had barely registered he was in front of her before he had assaulted her senses completely. Her body moved of it's own accord, pushing back against him, her fingers struggling across his doublet to find his neck. She buried her fingers in the brown locks, the new unfamiliar warmth within her belly urging her to be bolder.
When her feet started moving, Mary knew not, but she soon felt the rough texture of tree bark against her back as his body pressed against hers. His lips left hers, trailing instead along her cheek and towards her ear, his teeth nipping teasingly against her sensitive flesh. Her knees began to buckle, and Mary gripped his shirt for stability. Her motion pulled him closer and he stumbled, his leg accidentally thrust between her knees. The sudden pressure and sensation awoke Mary from her haze of emotions. Her eyes popped open and she withdrew her hands.
Bash shook his head, his senses slowly returning to him. His eyes found Mary's, and he drank in her appearance. She was a goddess, bathed in the eerie dwindling camp firelight reflected from the fog. Her lips were swollen, and her breathing heavy. Her eyes rippled with passion, and Bash wanted nothing more than to swim in their depths. But he also saw fear in her features. He pulled away, amazed at his lack of self control, and somewhat ashamed of his behavior.
"Please forgive me, Mary, I do not know what has come over me," he whispered. He reached for her hands, holding them gently but not tightly. Mary was still frightened of what had just transpired, of how easily it was for her to lose herself in him. But she was also afraid of the passion within him. His presence, his touch, had made her weak. She now understood what only maids had whispered about when they thought she could not hear, the way love between a man and a woman could physically feel. And how much more was possible.
"This is folly," Mary broke the ensuing silence, "I cannot pretend to not care for you. I love you, Bash, and I want to be able to show you, but ..."
"I wish," began Bash, shaking his head and looking away, "it does not matter what I wish. We will be at the Chateau de Blois in two days. You will meet our King, your future husband. I will not let my wishes tear you away from your destiny."
"And what of my wishes?" She questioned, fighting back tears yet again. Her last few occasions alone with Sebastian had led to nothing but tears. It was as if she said a lifetime of goodbyes more than once. "What if I said we should run away, tonight, under cover of this fog. We could go anywhere we like." Sebastian smiled sadly.
"If only it were that simple. Mary, you are destined for greatness. I said it before, France needs you. Francis will need you," he hesitated, wanting to pull her into his arms again but refraining from doing so, "I need you too, as my Sovereign Queen. I take some comfort knowing I will be able to serve you in some capacity, even if from a distance."
"Life is cruel," sighed Mar
"Life is also full of temptation, threatening to pull us from our true path."
"You sound like the Cardinal I used to listen to as a child. Every mass he would drone on about temptation," Mary chuckled.
"Well, I do not know much about mass, Your Grace, but I do agree with the principle." Sebastian removed a hand, reaching into his doublet, fumbling. He withdrew his hand, something clutched tightly in his fist. "Please, take this," he handed Mary a large gold ring, emblazoned boldly with a roaring lion. She looked closely at Sebastian, trying to understand the meaning behind the sudden gift.
"Neither of us can give each other the true comfort we seek, so let this be a token of my love for you." He placed the ring in her palm, closing her fingers around the warm metal and encasing the outstretched hand with his own.
"I will cherish it always," She acknowledged, bending to his hand. He nodded, not wanting to speak further and possibly ruin the moment. He gestured back to the camp, and Mary followed the movement. When her eyes focused back, he had vanished in the fog.
She took comfort in the warm gold, keeping her fingers tightly around the ring. A sense of calm pervaded Mary, and for a moment, all was well.
The following day Mary smiled warmly with her ladies, chatting more than she had the entire trip. Lola and Aylee noticed the sudden change, but neither dared ask their Queen. Mary could not understand why that brief moment of unfulfilled passion with Bash had altered her outlook. The weight of his gold ring hung heavy against her side, and she knew it brought her strength. It was a promise that he would be there with her the whole way. She would face her destiny with a smile and a gracious bow. And he would be there to catch her if she fell.
This was the day. The would reach the Chateau by early evening, barring any travel complications. Mary was nervous, her stomach aflutter anxiously. The noon sun comfortably warmed the carriage, and Mary's anxiety seemed reflected back in the faces of her ladies.
"We are almost there," Mary stated, peering out the window.
"Your Grace?" The Duke appeared by Mary's carriage, an eager look upon his face. Mary smiled warmly, tilting her head in acknowledgement. Sebastian continued, "if you could spare a moment, there is something I would like to show you."
Sebastian called for the carriage to halt, and Mary slipped into the afternoon sunshine. She looked around, hoping to see what he was excited to show her.
"Your Grace will have to follow me," Sebastian replied, holding out his hand for Mary to join him on his horse.
"What? Join you on the horse? How far away is this surprise?" Thought trying to remain calm and aloof, Mary's heart was racing at the prospect of sharing the close space with Bash.
"It will only take a moment, I promise."
Mary nodded, stepping closer to his horse. Claude knelt, his hand cupped to receive Mary's foot. He hoisted her with easiness onto Sebastian's mount. She had nothing to hold onto, so she pressed back against Bash, the familiar warmth of his body easing her tension. Bash nudged his horse, and they trotted away from their companions.
Once some distance was between them and their traveling party, she felt his arm slip around her waist, pulling her even closer than she already was. Her stomach fluttered at the sensation, their bodies rocking gently against each other as the horse cantered. Her fingers twined with his against her waist. Memories of a few nights ago raced through Mary's mind. "Where are you taking me?" Mary whispered.
"Just over this hill," sighed Sebastian. The trees cleared as his mare topped the small earthy rise, and Mary gasped. "There," hushed Bash against her hair, "is your home."
Over a few smaller hills, and sitting within the base of a valley, there was a beautiful Chateau. The stone was gleaming in morning sun, and Sebastian felt his chest swell with pride at his handiwork. Even at their distance, Bash could see how much work had progressed since he had been away. He was very pleased, and eager to show the reconstruction to Mary.
"We will be there before nightfall," Sebastian answered the unspoken question. Mary turned to look at him, a thousand words left unsaid between them. Her fate was below her, wrapped in glittering stone. She took a deep breath, sighing.
"I am ready," acknowledged Mary, the words full of emotion and determination.
Bash nodded, turning the horse back toward the carriage. If she was ready, then he would be as well.