Thank you for reading this story! I appreciate the positive comments and support. For this chapter, I wanted to focus on the relationship between Francis and Bash as brothers. I missed this is season three and felt they deserved more scenes together before Francis' death. Anyway, hope you enjoy the chapter. :) ~ Sweet R.

Chapter 2: The Promise

Francis placed Mary's completed sword in a long wooden box lined with blue silk. A satisfied smile glowed over his face as he read the engraved words one last time.

Regina Mea, Lux Mea, Amor Meus.

Being fluent in Latin, Mary would know what it meant. He hoped the words would give her courage to face the difficult days ahead.

Francis added another layer of silk embroidered with the French crest and a wax-sealed letter before closing the box. Then he relaxed into his chair at the table and let out a contented sigh.

'Finally complete. The last sword I'll ever make.'

"Well, there you are little brother."

Francis looked up and offered Bash a weak smile.

His brother's eyebrows knitted together. "You look terrible."

Francis chuckled softly and wiped some sweat off his forehead. "I know I can always count on you to be completely honest with me. Thank you for that."

Bash grinned and folded his arms over his chest. "Well, I have to honestly say one more thing. Mary's worried sick about you. She sent me to find you and make sure you take your herbs. You've missed two doses now. Or so I'm told."

"They're not herbs. More like poison really."

Bash nodded. "Nonetheless, they help you carry on, correct?"

Francis made a face and held out his hand, too exhausted to argue. "Just give it to me. I know Mary will tan your hide and mine if I don't comply with her commands."

His brother chuckled and placed the tiny pastille in his hand.

Francis chewed the bitter medicine and swallowed quickly but the horrid aftertaste still lingered, wreaking havoc on his taste buds. His physician had suggested taking the alternative medicine about two days ago and he already felt a little better. The bitter taste always lingered for at least half an hour after taking one. By the time it diminished it was time for another dose. In truth, he'd skipped his morning dose on purpose but sincerely hadn't meant to miss a second. Now weak and exhausted he wished he'd been more faithful in taking it.

Bash stepped forward and eyed the long wooden box on the table. "Is this the project keeping you up at all hours the past few days?"

Francis nodded and let out a deep sigh. "Yes, and now it's completed."

"Good. So, that means you'll rest?"

He arched his eyebrow. "Never."

"I didn't think so. You've always been as stubborn as a mule. If not more so."

Francis chuckled softly. "I can't deny that truth." He started to rise but blinding pain shot through his head and radiated all the way through his right ear drum. He winced and fell backwards into the chair again, holding his hand over the source of his anguish.

Bash appeared at his side in an instant, grasping his shoulder. "Francis. Are you all right?"

He nodded and lowered his hand. That's when he noticed the blood.

"You've over done it today, haven't you?"

Francis hid his own alarm and wiped his hand and ear with a nearby rag. "It's nothing, really. It's stopping."

Bash shook his head. "No, I'm taking you back to your chambers. Now."

He looked up at his brother and recognized the stubborn unyielding look in his eye. Their father's look. The one that said he wasn't taking no for an answer. Francis sighed. "Very well then, but on one condition. Have someone create a diversion for Mary. Delay her return to our chambers. I don't want her to see me like this. I just need a few minutes to get settled."

Bash nodded. "I'll do my best."

…

Bash kept his arm around Francis' waist to support him in his weakened state. They quietly shuffled down a back hallway, hoping to avoid being seen. Finally, they ducked into a secret passageway leading to his brother's royal chambers. As darkness settled around them Bash relaxed.

Francis let out a breathy chuckle. "This reminds of when I fell out of the tree when we were kids and you snuck me back into the castle."

Bash shook his head. "If I remember right, it was my idea to practice fencing up there. I was so foolish and you got hurt."

His brother shrugged. "It wasn't that bad. I only ended up with a minor cut on my arm and a twisted ankle."

Bash nodded as they emerged from the darkness into Francis' bedchambers. "I'm just grateful you were all right."

"Of course, I was. You always looked out for me, no matter what trouble we got ourselves into."

He remained silent while helping his brother into bed and pulling the covers over him.

Francis sighed and relaxed against his pillows. "Thank you, Bash. You can go if you need to. I'll be fine now."

"I've nowhere to go just yet. I'll stay until Mary arrives."

Francis nodded and closed his eyes. "Thanks for always being my brother," he murmured before drifting off to sleep.

Bash remained by his bedside and studied the pale tone of Francis' face. The herbs would be taking effect soon and Francis would regain his strength, but Bash feared it was only a temporary fix. He turned toward the hearth as a helpless feeling consumed him, like when they were kids. While Francis laughed off the tree incident, Bash couldn't. He was only about twelve years old when Francis fell but he still remembered the paralyzing fear as he scrambled out of the tree and rushed to his little brother's side. His arm was bleeding and he looked so still that Bash thought he was dead.

"Francis, speak to me," he'd pleaded.

His brother stirred and blinked several times. "Bash? Did I win the competition?"

He choked out a laugh and helped him into a sitting position. "Yes, of course you won. A thousand sympathy points."

His brother winced. "Oh, my ankle. It hurts!"

"Okay. Wait here while I get someone to carry you inside."

Francis gasped and clutched his arm. "No. Please don't tell. It will be a secret just between us."

"Why? You won't get in trouble. This was my fault."

His little brother looked up with tears pooling in his eyes. "What if…what if they won't let us be brothers anymore? Mother already doesn't like us playing together. She told me."

Bash smiled at his brother's innocence. "I'll always be your brother. Nothing will change that."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

Bash smiled to himself as the memory faded. Francis could have chosen to hold a grudge. After all, he had been bruised and bloodied as a result of his poor decision. But he didn't. He'd only been worried about him. That was just who Francis was, then and now. His brother and truest friend.

"Bash?"

He turned back toward the bed. "Yes? Do you need something?"

Francis shifted onto his side. Thankfully some of the color had returned to his face. "Actually, yes, I do need something. I need a favor."

"Of course. Anything."

"Do you remember the box upstairs?"

Scrambled thoughts raced through his mind but he pushed them aside and nodded. "Yes."

His brother's blue eyes took on a faraway look. "There's a gift inside…for Mary. It's very important she gets it."

Bash sat on the edge of the bed and furrowed his brow. "Do you want me to bring it down here so you can give it to her?"

Francis shook his head hard and gulped. "No. I want you to keep it for now. Find a safe place to store it and make sure no one else knows. I need you to make sure she opens it on the exact day she leaves for Scotland."

He stared at his brother with a blank expression. "Scotland? Why would she be going back to…" The truth hit him like a ton of bricks. "No." He stood and paced the room. "No. Francis, you're not giving up. Not yet. I refuse to… I refuse to be the taker of your last requests…"

"Bash…please listen to me," Francis interrupted. "We have to be realistic…"

He paused before the window pane and tried to block out his brother's voice as it grew more hoarse and emotional by the second.

"You're the only one I…" Francis' voice broke for a moment before he went on. "You're the only one I trust to do this for me after I'm gone. Please don't make me pass the job onto a servant. Mary needs someone she knows and trusts to give it to her."

Those words sliced him to the core. He couldn't bear the thought of Mary being alone when she received one last gift from her deceased husband. Bash would never admit it to Francis but he still cared for her. That made things even harder, but he forced his personal feelings aside. If that horrible day came and Mary needed to leave for Scotland, he would be the one to give it to her.

Bash turned with misty eyes and sat on the edge of the bed again. He let out a ragged breath and took his brother's hand. "Very well, Francis. I'll keep your secret… and when the time is right, I'll give Mary the gift as you requested. Not only that…but as long as she remains in France, I'll protect her with my life. You have my word."

Francis smiled through his tears and peace filled his eyes. "You promise?

Bash nodded. "I promise, my brother."