#sebastian de poitiers | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

black-dhalias · 8 months

Note

Hiii I really appreciate ur writing and I would like to make a request for a reader and bash from reign smut where u use the quote “ are u a virgin? But how?” And “ are u scared?”

Little Bird

Bash De Poitiers X F!Reader

Warning: SMUT, language, mentions of arranged marriages

History is not written by the forgotten because history is only written by the heroes, the survivors, the victors. In a world full of royals, kings and queens and countries-- only the strongest will be remembered. All others will fall.

You are far from the young girl who visited the French Court those years ago; now, you are a queen and while country thrives under your rule, you are known as ruthless. You move with purpose, your own guards not far behind you as you walk towards the throne room-- ignoring the whispers of the familiar walls. The memories that cling to every crevice of this palace. When you left, you left suddenly in the night, having received a letter from your mother-- dead. Your father was dead and so was your brother, and you were now queen and immediately required back in Genovia.

You slip between the halls, your hand tugging Bash along with you, as you look back and smile. Perhaps too much of your time centers around your time with the bastard son of King Henry, but something about him is too interesting to ignore. While Mary Queen of Scots is constantly surrounded by her ladies, the princess of Genovia is often feels ignored by her French allies. Not even first in line to your throne, it seems as though King Henry views you as dead weight, but not Bash.

With him at your side, you felt as though you had a friend in this court of lies and deception, and villains. "Sebastian-- c'mon." You whisper shout, urging him to move faster and keep up with you as you slip into one of the secret passages. Once the door slips closed behind you, Bash holds your hand a little tighter as if to keep you from slipping away into the dark tunnels. Outside of Nostradamus, you are most familiar with the French palaces secret tunnels and Bash knew if you disappeared, you'd get away from him. But the his slight pull was a shock, one you were unprepared for and moved backwards into him.

You try not to show the fear that bubbles inside of your chest, being back here seems to bring back every thought. Every struggle. The pain and the happiness, and it makes it difficult to concentrate on the task at hand. However, when the throne room doors open and you see him immediately. No amount of preempted focus could have brought you back because he is exactly how you remember. Only now, he is married and you are queen, which change everything, but looking at him... You feel as though nothing has changed, not him, not you, and not your feelings for him.

There is a shocking hmph as you bump into his chest, but you do not move and neither does he; instead, you feel his hand slip down to rest on your waist while the other rests on your neck. Through the darkness you see his eyes shut, the warmth of his hands and then there is his lips. Soft and sweet, and just as warm as you had imagined; although you know this is far from okay, so what? It feels right enough.

However, you bring yourself back to reality as quickly as you can manage and smile at the newly crowned King Francis. "Sorry I couldn't make it to the coronation-- long may you reign." He nods and gives a little smile, coming down from the throne and you see your guards tense up at the sudden movement. "Oh please, I don't think he wants one of his first acts as King to be starting a war." Neither of them relax despite your whisper to them, but you accept the embrace of Francis and pull away smiling.

"Well you made it now." You nod, giving a little shrug.

"I felt as though us both being relatively new to our thrones, we should talk about continuing the French and Genovian alliance." Scanning your eyes across the throne room, you see Mary—you see Catherine and others you recognize, but it's all a cover so you have an excuse to look at him again. He stands at the right hand side of the King's throne, the King's deputy, which makes sense. You make a note of the woman to his right though. Pretty little thing.

Where you were, Bash always seemed to find his way to your side—whether riding, walking through the grounds, or dancing as you are now. Being a princess means suitors, which pleases your mother, but displeases you: "So Princess, what do you think about French weather being from such a cold land?" You raise an eyebrow as he spins you, and with as much grace as you can muster, you come back to him and give a rather forced smile.

Perhaps petty, you begin to lead, which gives him a little shock-- his footing begins to slip up and he stumbles to keep up with you: "Well, for your information, Genovia is south of France, so I'd say your weather is quite cold, you..." Maybe for the best, Bash is tapping on the counts shoulder and he happily hands you off to Bash. You puff out a breath, irritation still bubbling in your stomach and begging to be released.

"Ignore them..." You bite the inside of your cheek as Bash twirls you around the floor, completely at ease and you follow his steps effortlessly. Familiar with how he moves, how he dances; you'd say you were pretty familiar with everything about him.

"How do they expect to court me, if they don't even know where my country is? Honestly, it's just disgraceful." He gives a little laugh, twirling you quickly before bringing you back in, but this time much closer.

"Well the longer I have you here, the better." His comment, rather than comfort, strikes a little nerve.

"You know, I've had a thought. Why don't you marry me?" You two haven't really spoken about the idea, having mutually decided it just would not work out, but now... now you think otherwise.

Francis nods approvingly, "I think that is a fitting thought." He holds out his arm to you, "Shall we?" You finally find clarity in the fact that Bash is now married and nod, taking Francis's arm. As he guides, you pass by Bash and you pause slightly, biting your lip before smiling at him.

"Congratulations on your marriage, Sebastian." Unlike everyone else, you called him by his name to irritate him and at some point, he began to find it endearing. You see the familiarity in those eyes, but it is only a second as he gives a tight smile and Francis continues to lead you towards one of the studies. You always thought that when you returned, he'd still be there waiting and maybe, just maybe—you could finally have that wedding.

Some part of you is angry at yourself for saying anything at all, and Francis must have noticed because he speaks up. "Don't be too hard on him, or yourself, I'll explain in more detail later, but he didn't have a choice in marrying Kenna." So that's her name, Kenna... That's one of Queen Mary's ladies, although she has grown quite a bit. So have you...

"Well when is a marriage ever a choice in French court." You try to make light of it, your own suffering, joking although there is a bitter truth to the comment. When you get inside of the small room, Francis and you spend quite a while discussing the politics of trade and possibility, but then conversation shifts to your marriage.

"A little bird told me you have a marriage alliance of your own blooming, with my distant Italian relatives.” Your smile tightens and Francis’ brow furrows, your reaction seeming to confuse the new King. “Not a marriage I assume.”

“A necessary one.” You pinch the top of the figures that represent a horse, and glance down at the map. Before placing the horse just east of Genovia, on the Italian border. “There’s an Italian stronghold near this border, there’s been attacks on farms from Italian peasants. If I marry an Italian, specifically a member of this family—then I stand a chance at protecting them.” You swallow, “Just another reason to bolster a French alliance, you’ll learn quickly that only displays of power can protect your country.”

Francis nods, smiling sadly at his old friend—someone he cared for deeply all those years ago. “Well, do not worry—France is not an enemy of Genovia, and under my rule, you have no need to question our honesty.” Gratefulness fills the pit of your stomach, the one that had only seemed to grow as you stayed in French Court. Every hour chipped away at your inner self.

Negotiations with Francis went quick, the grimey politics melted away as you simply spoke with your friend. It made it better, and much simpler meeting than these tended to be amongst royal agreements. He asked for very few things, but mainly that despite you being a protestant nation—you remain loyal to France and Scotland, rather than England.

It was easy to agree to such a simple request.

However, the walk to your rooms is not as long as it once was—Kings and Queens are housed exuberantly, but you used to live so far from it all. You miss those days sometimes. These walls hold so many stories. You were almost unaware of the steps following you, or how his hand felt on your waist as it pulled you in. Or how familiar his sterling eyes were as you looked up at him. While you think of pulling away completely, you are not able to bring yourself to do so.

"You are more beautiful than I remember." Only the walls do not speak, and neither do you. Not even as he runs his hand along your cheek. You are frozen, recalling every memory and knowing that the familiarity is built into his touch. "I did not believe God chose Kings and Queens until I saw you in the throne room." Even standing next to his wife, his next words are bittersweet. "Y/N, you are an angel amongst mortals." Something snaps back into place as you push him away, shaking your head.

"No. Absolutely not. Sebastian, you are married and I do not have time for petty affairs." You reconcile your dignity and stiffen your lip, you are Queen. By your own birthright, and loss.

"Admit it, you feel it too." He steps towards you, and you go back, never breaking eye contact. Knowing that the way he seemed to flinch, your movement to get away hurt him. It hurt you too. "You're more than a petty affair to me, Y/N. You've never been anything less."

You fold your arms over themselves, shaking your head. "I am a reigning Queen... Chosen by God, and revered by my people. You said so yourself." The last bit is more pointed. "I am not an affair, or a passing moment." You pause. "Not even for you."

With that, you leave him alone in the hall and retreat to your room. To wonder what would have been, what could still be, and how it's a terrible idea to linger on the past.

The next days are long, you can hardly wait to go home. You missed the grandeur of French Court a long time ago, but now it does not feel like home. It is too much.

You bid farewell to Francis and Mary, "I believe next year, we'll be travelling to see you." You smile, knowing all eyes are on the future. A wedding.

"Perhaps sooner." Just as you step into the carriage, you glance up at the balcony to see Sebastian. To see him watching you. Your soft smile sends his heart into a flurry of confusion and certainty. Even when the carriage leaves his view, he knows one thing: he would do anything to be your husband.

A warm summer breeze touches your cheeks, it dusts your nose and your smile grows. To be married, it seems so much more distant than it should. You should be giddy, but your future King Consort is nowhere near the one you imagine.

"One more night..." You wonder if you could run now, turn your back on the wedding and just leave. Find another way to protect your country against all odds.

You breathe out deeply, grasp the handles of the balcony doors and shut them tight. Ignoring the arrival of the French convoy, knowing that it would not just be the King and Queen of France in attendance.

Francis had tried to convince Bash to not come, to not torture himself further with the image of you marrying another. To not let him torture you. But the bastard was insistent, so much so that Francis knew it was going to come to something.

"I object..." He murmurs under his breath, it seemed to repeat over—"Wait!" He hardly remembers shouting, just that he did and all eyes turned to him. Yours wide as he moves closer. "Y/N..." He swallows. "You can't marry him." What was supposed to be your husband curses, eyes narrow and harsh. Only they do not scare Sebastian in the slightest. "You know as well as I do. We were as good as promised to each other before your brother died." There is much truth in those words, your parents had come around to the idea and so had your brother. It seemed simple, a way to keep France close and to give you this last thing.

"Silence!" The Italian is seething, chest rounding and cheeks turned a flustered and bright red.

You turn your eyes to him, "Do not command him, as that is as certain as commanding me. I am neither soldier, nor Italian. And neither is he." You pause. "This is my palace." You look at Bash, exhaling and he continues.

"I had not told you, but our fathers had contracts prepared and signed... Two kings... It took a while, but I found the original." His eyes turn to the Italian. Your eyes wide, as you hold out your hand for the parchment. "If this document is verified, then it means you can't marry him. Because you have to marry me."

It was enough to stop the ceremony, no one could condone a marriage without verifying if the will of two kings would be defied. Even dead kings have power.

You pace the hall outside of Sebastian’s chambers, every step echoes, but you do not care. An inner turmoil having found itself rooted in the pit of your stomach, to love Sebastian had been as easy as breathing. You knew him as well as you knew yourself.

“Y/N?” You jump, grasping your shaking palms together as you tuck them behind your back. Trying to seem unassuming, as if you hadn’t been at his door for some time. Only as he takes in your nerves, the way your eyes flit about—Sebastian is very aware, and smirks. The kind of smirk that used to tell you that he knew. “I was just about to go find you.”

Honestly, you believe that to be true, he seemed determined when he opened his chambers door. The way he closed the distance in two long strides, his arm snaked around your waist and pressing himself as close as possible.

So close you forgot how to breathe, wondering if you needed breath at all. Without air, your words were strained—the warmth of his hand trailing up your arm was distracting. “You could have warned me.”

“I planned to, only you never gave me a chance.” You recall sending your younger sister greeting the French carriage, shutting your door tight to keep all temptation locked away.

“I guess—” The words trail off your tongue as he begins pulling you into his chambers, and this time you do not resist. Temptation or not, Sebastian has always been just out of reach. Suddenly, he’s as close skin to skin can allow.

Breathless, you kiss him—not soft or tenderly, but desperate to know what it’s like to taste him again. To feel his lips on yours. Sharing kisses used to be frequent, but it had been so long and you had wondered if they’d taste the same.

They did. His lips were as familiar as his touch. The caress of his fingers against your body had all, but left you breathless—there was no space for air between you, nothing more than clothes.

Even those were falling away, you don’t remember his shirt disappearing or when your robe hit the floor. You don’t recall anything other than his lips, his determination to kiss every bit of skin that became visible.

“Perfection…” He hums the word as he braces you on the bed, admiring you—your bare chest and soft eyes, the way your gaze seemed to draw him in. “Absolute…” Sebastian comes closer, leaning over you, warmth surrounding. His face framed by the fire’s light. “Perfection.”

As his hands begin to run along your waist, your back arches and he lingers there—holding you close, his head bent over as he begins to kiss your neck. Letting his lips travel down as you bend into his grip, a soft moan escapes your lips.

“Don’t—” You pant, a shiver going down your body as he kisses the spot above your breast. “Don’t stop.” If your eyes were not shut, head tilted back, you wonder if you could see the ghost of his smile just as well as you feel it against you.

Sebastian pauses, “Are you—”, his lips seeming to stop as he spoke. “Are you still a virgin?” You sit up, his question taking you aback; however, comfortable you are with him. You didn’t expect him to ask so boldly.

You want this, you know that for certain—you’ve wanted him ever since you were young. Those eyes haunted your dreams, knew your own just as well as the sky knows the stars.

“Would you stop if I said yes?”

“Only if you asked… But how?” You bring yourself close, leaning forward to wrap your arms around his neck. Lips hovering above his own.

“Then it doesn’t matter if I am. Just don’t stop.” That was enough for Bash as he regained his vigor, kissing your earnestly and desperately.

You could hardly imagine anything more perfect than the way he held you. The way he embraced you. The way, you moan his name—leaning back as he lowers you onto him.

His movements slow, careful and steady, most of your weight being held in his arms as he begins to move.

“Just don’t stop.” You whisper, leaning against his body—your lips resting beside his ear, you felt his grasp tighten as he began to move more rhythmically.

AN: I definitely don’t do smut typically, don’t get me wrong. I do read it, but I am not skilled at writing it. So it’s more sensual than sexual, maybe I’ll get better in the future. But I hope you like this.

#imagines #imagine #fandom request #imagine requests #x reader #requests #love #reader insert #reign tv show #reign imagines #reign imagine #bash x reader #sebastian de poitiers #sebastian x reader #reign x reader

115 notes · View notes

earlgodwin · 1 year

Photo

Torrance Coombs as Sebastian de Poitiers in Reign (2013-2017).

#torrance coombs #sebastian de poitiers #reign #reignedit #tvedit #dailyreigngifs #dailytvfilmgifs #weloveperioddrama #perioddramaedit #perioddramasource #onlyperioddramas #periodedits #perioddramacentral #period drama #tvcentric #televisongifs #gifshistorical #he's the prettiest i need him

232 notes · View notes

hiatuswhore · 1 year

Text

Viper IV

Reputation: The Princess of Conde, said to be a lover of games. Perhaps chess, a game requiring one to think many steps ahead and anticipate your enemies next move. For every missteps brings you closer and closer to defeat.

VIPER III: Versatility

YOU NEVER KNEW FRENCH COURT TO BE SO DULL. The privy council drolling on about issues they will never resolve. No plots or ploys, you settle on a ceasefire allowing the Queen Consort a period of reprieve. You busy yourself with strolls with Sebastian and feigning interest in many high Lord's pursuits of your hand. This does not stop the Queen Mother from focusing on your every movement. Nor are you a fool to the servant in your ranks who reports to her. All information they receive perfectly curated to your liking.

Sitting at your vanity, you huff like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Whispers containing scandals so minuscule you are certain the histories will write you as the first to truly die from boredom.

“Dahlia, any news on the parchment I sent to my brother?” You ask. The shake of your handmaiden’s head garnering another huff. “He wants me to come home, but I have far too much to do here.”

“Princess, you must stop fussing so I can finish your hair,” Dahlia’s silvery voice and gentle touch gaining an apologetic smile. The light tapping of your chamber door stills your handmaiden, your head turning toward the door. Dahlia crosses the room. Opening it, she bows respectfully before lowering her gaze and stepping aside.

“My King,” You rise to your feet, a grin on your lips as you curtsy. Francis chuckles, shaking his head as you ask what you can do for him.

“My wife seems to believe you have a vendetta against her. I am no fool of the deep care you hold for your brother. This afternoon you will invite her on your evening stroll, just the two of you,” Your head tilts to the side, a wide smile taking your features, hiding the thorns beneath rosy-colored petals.

“While I admit I was not very fond, I thought to have clarified my intentions with your wife. Very well, we will have a lovely evening at once,” Clasping your hands in front of you, stepping forward, you peck his cheek. His nose grazes your cheek as he turns to meet your gaze.

“We are not children anymore. You know this is not appropriate,” His words leave him in a breathy whisper. You wet your lips, offering a warm smile.

“I meant nothing untoward, Francis. You are dear to me. I would never have you jeopardize your honor,” Only run it off a cliff, the heat of his skin warming your own at the proximity. His head tilts forward so slightly you nearly miss it as he stiffens. You pull away first, brushing past him with a knowing smirk.

The long corridor from your chambers holds a sea of faces that matter little as you make your way to the kitchens. Fetching to chalices of wine, your smiles large as Mary and Catherine’s eyes land on you. They stand in the throne room, speaking quietly amongst themselves.

“Queen Mother. Her grace. My apologies for the intrusion. I hoped to steal the Queen for a stroll. I even brought us wine,” You say, holding out the chalice. Silence dances between the three of you. Both Catherine and Mary eye the cup in your hand warily, the smile on your lips wicked. She knows she cannot refuse. To do so slights the Princess of Conde--another slight against the De Bourbon family, her kin-in-law.

“Of course, Princess,” Mary swallows thickly, her voice wavering as her fingers brush your own against the cup. She glances at Catherine a final time before joining your side. You wear a kind smile, your airy aura filling the halls. You ramble to Mary just as you do with a dear friend, noting how the chalice in her hands has stayed there.

“What a lovely day. Isn’t it lovely?” Stepping outside, you turn to Mary, her strained smile and stiff posture fueling your amusement. Catherine stands with Francis on the second-floor terrace watching the two of you.

“Very lovely indeed,” Mary mutters, following your toothy smile up the terrace. She’s greeted with differing expressions. Francis wears one of encouragement as Catherine stands as though a guillotine awaits.

“Mary, you are not very good at this game. You went to Francis of your fears, rightful fears, but now here we are. Let me help you understand your particular situation. This is a game of reputation. I very publicly invited you to wine and a stroll. The part the people do not know is that it is at the King's behest. Now imagine if word spreads, you refused my efforts for peace after all you brought upon my brother? What a lecherous cunt,” You scoff, speaking barely above a whisper, shaking your head, a smile painting your lips. Mary’s eyes narrow, her shoulders falling at her side. Stepping into the trap before it was even set.

“I am the Queen. You are my subject in my court!” The ferocity of her tone unlike anything you ever expected of her. You would have commended her in another life, but now your smile falls as you stumble back. Mary’s frown distinct as your eyes well with tears. You shift your gaze down sharply, cowering like a frightened child—the antithesis of your nature.

“My apologies, your grace. Will you excuse me?” You curtsy, wiping the faux tear from your cheek. Mary’s eyes bounce around the open grass field. Ladies and Lords alike lounge around different fixtures watching the exchange. Realization cuts through like a blade to skin, your sorrow not reaching your eyes. Oh, how this game suits you.

“Princess,” Mary breathes out, watching as you fiddle with your fingers. The comely and giving Princess standing before the aggressor, the cruel Queen.

“My apologies, your grace. I know our histories are—” You cry out, the approaching mop of blonde hair arriving with impeccable timing.

“Mary, a word,” The clench of the King’s jaw clear despite the mask of calm he wears. You offer a respectful curtsy heading back toward the castle with your head low. Inside, Catherine greets you with a sneer; taking her hands, you smile.

“I detest you. You wretched girl,” Catherine squeezes your hands tights, to onlookers a warm exchange between family. The Queen Mothers' smile as warm and deceitful as your own.

“Oh, Catherine. To hate me is to hate yourself. I learned all I know from watching you,” You lean forward, kissing both her cheeks. The softening of her glare was not lost on you before excusing yourself. Like wildfire, the word spread of your exchange; invitations of tea and strolls pouring into your chamber like water to a glass.

By noon, you receive word of a private family supper. You naturally assume it to be the workings of Francis but still consider others. While Mary navigates your game as well as a blind man at sea, you await Catherine to guide her hand. You wear a courteous smile as the hundredth invite for tea arrives, your empty promises of soon arranging a meeting becoming almost instinctive.

“(Y/n)!” Your eyes widen at the squeal. Claude rushes down the corridor, her arms wide open. She nearly tackles you to the ground in a hug, squeezing so tight it may very well suffocate you.

“Thank god! This place is so terribly boring,” You exclaim, stepping off to the side. Claude smirks. “I was so upset to learn I had just missed by mere hours the day I arrived.”

“I hear my brother's wife made you cry, and I know for certain that is not the case. You must tell me your machinations at once,” Claude whispers, leaning in close. The two of you stop at the corner, appearing like giddy children.

“That would spoil the fun dear cousin!” You say, crossing your arms and mirroring her smirk.

“The Scottish Queen is doomed then, but that must wait. We have much to catch up on,” Claude hooks her arm in your own. She leads you down the hall, her animated rambling taking the whole of the conversation as you listen intently.

“You slept with Ser Harlin?” You gasp, stopping in your tracks. The French Princess bit her bottom lip, grinning like a madwoman. She spares you not a single detail of her exploits with the pagan warrior, a burly man of few words.

“How have you not? I know, no Lord who looks like him. We must have our fun before our brothers decide to try and marry us off,” Claude says, shrugging your shoulders, your matter-of-fact tone dripped in certainty, “I believe my brother knows if he forces a husband upon me, that poor soul will not make it to our marital bed.”

“Well, if Francis makes me marry, can I count on your diligence in my indoctrination to widowhood?” Claude teases. Nodding your head, you stand straight up with a playfulness to your tone, “I swear this oath to you in perpetuity, my princess.”

“I see you two muck about once more,” Francis greets his sister with a warm hug, his eyes meeting yours with a long pause. Claude’s gaze bounces between the two of you, chuckling shamelessly.

“All these years and nothing changes. Well, you two clearly need a moment. Mother!” Claude calls out, skipping away before either of you can say a word. You bite the inside of your cheek, certain you will not lead this conversation.

“I wish to apologize on behalf of Mary,” Francis says, studying how you render your face expressionless.

“It’s clear the Queen does not seek forgiveness, but who I am to ask that of the Queen. I do not believe she likes me very much. I think I should soon leave,” You shrug your shoulders, pursing your lips. A huff leaves him, taking the bait as easily as you threw it.

“You will do no such thing. I want you here, so that is where you shall be.” Francis taking your hand in his own, the closeness intoxicating—inviting far too inappropriate for the open hall. You wet your lips, watching his eyes travel to them.

“Of course, my King.” The batting of your lashes and low hum of your voice garnering a deep sigh. Francis closes his eyes, rolling back his shoulders as he releases your hand. “Are you unwell, your grace?”

“You very well know what I am at this given second,” He tilts his head, giving you a knowing look. Leaning in closer, your pointed stare and lopsided grin doing the young King no favors.

“You are King, Francis. It is well within your right to reach for what you want. Who you want,” Placing your hand on his shoulder, you trail your pointer finger up the side of his neck and back down at a tantalizingly slow pace.

“I will not be my father,” Francis says, disappearing into his own mind before you. Your hand travels up to his cheek, pulling him back to the present, testing your limits with your thumb tracing his bottom lip.

“You could never. Far too honorable. Too good,” You draw your words out, the slow whisper and dark eyes evaporating those around you from view. The few who linger in the corridor pretend as though you both are not the center of attention. You lean up, pecking his cheek once more, resting your cheek against his, your breath tickling his ear. Your eyes on the dark mop of hair down the hall, “I am your first love. Mary shall be your last, it seems. Your grace.”

You step back, noting how he stares at you, the adoration clear as day. Curtsying, you brush past him. At the end of the hall, you stop shoulder-to-shoulder with the Scottish Queen. Her glassy staring forward as though someone has commanded it. You do not spare her glance on even turn to address her, your face now one of stone.

“Please, Princess. Ask anything of me, and it is yours.” Mary swallows thickly, her eyes on her husband's back as he continues down the hall. When he turns the corner, she turns to you, your gaze still forward.

“Your demise.”

MASTERLIST

88 notes · View notes

winnie-the-monster · 3 months

Text

#reign #s3 #3x05 #sebastian de poitiers #mary stuart

11 notes · View notes

toomanyfandomsneverenoughtime · 5 months

Text

2023 CHARACTER WRAP

Share your top nine characters of this year.

I was tagged by @matbaynton (Thank you so much, Ireland 💖)

I don't have quite as much control as Ireland so I'm upping the Mat character limit to 5, though I could definitely fill the whole list with Mat characters if I wanted to.

Thomas Thorne, BBC Ghosts It's the last year for new Thomas content and that makes me ridiculously sad so he has to be here and in the number one spot.

2. Ariel Conroy, You, Me and the Apocalypse Just downright one of the best Mat characters and I've had the pleasure of rewatching it again this year and exploiting Ariel many times during kinktober. He's just consistently my favourite Mat to play with.

3. Jamie Winton, You, Me and the Apocalypse If I'm having Ariel, I'm having Jamie too, Ariel is nothing without Jamie and vice versa.

4. Felix Fickelgruber, Wonka The newest and quite frankly a delightful Mat character. Mat is so good as this role and it's always refreshing to see him play a villain and also have a musical number?!??!

5. Chris Pitt-Goddard, Spy Just another Mat character that I have particularly enjoyed exploiting this year, especially during Kinktober.

6. Izaya Orihara, Durarara!! I don't know how my interest in Izaya suddenly came back and with full force but it has and it feels like I'm living in 2012 again and utterly, stupidly insane about him.

7. Robin Hood, BBC Robin Hood Again, not sure how this came back into my life... well I am actually and it's because of @sherwood-outlaws and I can't say I expected to watch it twice in one year and not watching it for years and years but god, I loved this show and Robin in particular.

8. Sebastian "Bash" de Poitiers, Reign Okay, I haven't finished this show yet but I fucking love Bash and I love my friend for introducing me to this show! He's so pretty!

9. Pam Beesley, The Office Will there ever be a year where I don't re-watch The Office and fall in love with a different character each time?

If you read through all of this, thank you! I hope you enjoyed! @sherwood-outlaws if you want to give it a go, I'd love to see you find GIFs for 9 different Robin Hood characters 🤣

#mat baynton #thomas thorne #ariel conroy #jamie winton #chris pitt-goddard #izaya orihara #robin hood #jonas armstrong #sebastian de poitiers #torrance coombs #pam beesly #jenna fischer #thanks for reading!#and thanks again for the tag #I had fun doing this!

13 notes · View notes

twinklestarss · 2 years

Text

“What is that?”-Mary Stuart

“There’s a royal visitor.”-Sebastian de Poitiers

Reign (2013-2017)

#reign #reignedit #mary stuart #marie de guise #sebastian de poitiers #catherine de' medici #greer castleroy #adelaide kane #torrance coombs #amy brenneman #period dramas #weloveperioddrama #perioddramagif #perioddramaedit #dailyreigngifs #tvedit #marystuartedit

117 notes · View notes

dailyreigngifs · 8 months

Text

GREER CASTLEROY & SEBASTIAN DE POITIERS & CHARLES IX OF FRANCE REIGN — 3x04: The Price

#reign #reignedit #perioddramaedit #periodedit #perioddramasource #ceremonial #perioddramacentral #greer of kinross #sebastian de poitiers #charles valois #gifs #s3 #by zaynab #usermegara #userzil

78 notes · View notes

dameaylins · 1 year

Photo

Torrance Coombs as Sebastian de Poitiers 1x09. For King and Country.

#reignedit #reign #torrance coombs #sebastian de poitiers #PATHETIC LITTLE SAD BOY <3 #kissing him kissing him #anyway i'm rewatching reign

54 notes · View notes

blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms · 2 years

Text

Walk- Sebastian De Poitiers

Pairing: Sebastian De Poitiers x Reader

Characters: Sebastian De Poitiers

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Hi again! Can I request a Bash x fem!reader with the prompt "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were trying to seduce me".

Word Count: 445

Author: Charlotte

It wasn’t uncommon to be sent to live at a foreign court for months at a time, either for diplomacy or your mother’s hopes you’d find a member of the royal family wanting to marry you before she settled upon an arranged marriage. For the past month you had been left to live at the French Court. It wasn’t the worst place to stay, and everyone had been kind to you, even though you were well aware that most of them only did it due to wanting to keep face rather than out of the kindness of their heart.

In the time you had been there, you had become fond of Bash. He seemed to be the only one who was genuine with you, not trying to impress you in hopes that you would send back words of their kindness to your parents, the King and Queen of your country. You knew that your mother would be far from impressed if she knew you were feeling anything positive towards the bastard son of the French King, but you didn’t care. You hoped he felt the same towards you, but even just having him as a friend was enough to make your time there happy.

You had made many excuses to get time to spend with him but feared outright asking him for his company. Today you were going to use a walk to justify your need to be near him.

Pulling on your long fur-lined shawl, you begun to head towards the nearest door outside, making sure he noticed you. He reached the door before you did, blocking your path outside of the palace.

“Where do you think you are going, Princess?” He questioned.

“I thought I would take a walk around the grounds. It may be cold, but they are still beautiful to see,” you explained.

His brow furrowed. “You know they are not safe for a lady to walk alone.”

You feigned shock and confusion, as though this was not something he had told you before.

“Do you suggest you be my escort?” You offered.

He shook his head, letting out a deep chuckle. “That is not what I am trying to suggest, I just do not wish for you to come to harm.”

Moving a hand to rest upon your own chest, you smiled up to him, knowing you both wished to spend time together but without one of you taking the leap, you’d be forever stuck in this cycle of awkward encounters.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were tying to seduce me,” you smiled playfully.

“And if I were?” He chuckled.

“I certainly could not deny you.”

#Walk #Anon #Request #Sebastian De Poitiers #Sebastian De Poitiers Imagine #Sebastian De Poitier One Shot #Bash #Bash Imagine #Bash One Shot #Reign #Reign Imagine #Reign One Shot #Charlotte

93 notes · View notes

trashcanband4 · 1 year

Text

The Bastards Ch. 8

The Bastards Masterlist

Warnings: None. Note: Once again, sorry for the long wait. Writers block is a pain. And sorry if this sucks.

Catherine, Henry, Francis, Bash and Maisie stood around a small round table in the wine cellar, knowing no one would find them there. "You two will be wed tomorrow night." Henry told Maisie and Bash.

"How will we keep Mary from learning of this?" Maisie asked.

"We are going to make her believe she and Bash will be the ones getting married." Henry answered with a glance at Bash before he looked back to Maisie.

"Before I have been declared legitimate?" Bash asked with a frown.

"Yes. The reason for the hasty nuptials will be to force the Vatican's hand." Catherine assumed as she turned her eyes to Henry. "If they want Mary to claim England she will have to be married to the next king of France and if she is already married to Bash they will have no choice but to declare him legitimate."

"Exactly." Henry confirmed.

"Won't she get suspicious if we all just back down and let it happen?" Francis asked.

"Yes, which is why we're not going to back down." Henry answered, then looked at Catherine. "You're going to send an assassin to Mary's chambers tonight. It would be expected considering if she has it her way you'll lose your crown." Catherine made a face that suggested he wasn't wrong. "One of my guards will thorwart your assassin's efforts." Henry looked at Francis and Maisie. "You two are less predictable." He focused on Francis. "What would you do if Mary succeeded in giving your brother your crown?"

Francis thought about it for a moment. "I would leave court." He answered.

Henry looked at Maisie. "What of you? Would you stay and become Sebastian’s mistress?"

“Yes.” Maisie answered. “I’ve already threatened as much.”

“You have?” Bash asked with a look down at her.

“Mmhm.” she hummed.

"Then it's settled." Henry said with finality in his voice. "Tonight Catherine will try and fail to assassinate Mary after which Mary, Bash and I will confront her in the throne room." He then looked at Francis. “You will interrupt and announce your plan to leave court.” he then looked at Maisie, “You will stay out of sight and refuse to join Mary’s other ladies in walking her down the aisle. While Mary is busy getting ready to marry Bash you will be getting ready to take her place."

"Please don’t take this as me being unappreciative," Maisie spoke up and Henry gave her a curious look, "but why can’t Bash and I simply elope in the morning before Mary even wakes? Make things quick and easy?"

"Because she will expect that and we need witnesses, including Mary, so that she cannot question the validity of your marriage." He answered, shutting down her hopes for a simple wedding.

"Fair point.” she replied with a nod.

"If all goes according to plan Bash and Maisie will save a great many people from suffering." Francis said to his parents. “I suggest we show our appreciation with a gift of title and lands.”

Henry and Catherine shared a look. Maisie looked up at Bash with wide eyes while he looked down at her with a surprised look of his own.

"There is a chateau available just outside the castle grounds." Catherine suggested.

“I agree.” Henry said then looked at Bash. “Do you accept?”

“Of course.” he replied without a second thought.

“Very well then.” Henry said with a nod of finality. “Upon your union with Maisie you will become an Earl and as such you may move into your new home.” he told Bash then looked around the table. “Are we all agreed to this plan?” he asked and they all nodded. “Then let’s get to it, shall we?” he asked with a wave to the stairs.

Henry and Francis left first, exiting a couple at a time to stave off the suspicion that would be drawn if they all exited at once. After a few quiet moments Catherine looked at Bash and jerked her head to the stairway. He gave her a nod and left the two women alone. “May I ask…” Maisie started, making Catherine look at her with a hum that told her to continue, “why you agreed to gift Bash a title and lands when everyone knows you hate him?”

“I don’t hate him.” she defended, making Maisie lift their brows at her. “I hate that he exists.” she corrected. "My reasons for agreeing are selfish, I assure you. If you leave court, so does Sebastian. With him out of the castle there is less reason for Diane to be around.”

“Ah.” Maisie said with an understanding nod of her head.

“With the title and lands I’ve also given you an escape.” she continued and Maisie gave her a curious tilt of her head. “From Mary and her fury. As you and I both know she has a temper and she will not be pleased with you after tomorrow.”

“That is assuming she will allow me to leave court. I am still her lady.” Maisie pointed out.

“Yes, about that. Mary will do anything she can to push you from court and away from Bash for she already sees him as hers. She won’t want you around, stealing his time.” Catherine replied. “Prove to her you mean to keep him in your bed despite her plans and she will push. Of this I have no doubt.”

"Thank you for the advice." Maisie replied.

"Now, about the chateau you've been given." Catherine changed the subject. "There is a reason it is available at such short notice. It borders the blood wood." Catherine's words made Maisie's eyes widen. "There haven't been any incidents, but its close proximity scares off most nobles."

"We'll make it work." Maisie agreed, hoping that if they respected the people in the woods, they would be able to live peacefully.

Catherine gave her a nod then jerked her head toward the stairs for her to leave.

RRRRRRRRRR

As soon as she walked into her rooms she spotted Bash sitting on the small bench in the corner of the entry room, a soft look in his eyes. “I’m sorry.” Maisie apologized softly as she walked over to stand at the small table in the center of the room. Her eyes stayed on her hands on the table. “I didn’t mean to make you feel roped in with this plan of Henry and Catherine’s. I know I should have spoken to you about it first, but there wasn’t time." Still not looking at him, she picked up a petal that had fallen from the flower arrangement in the center of the table. “I’ll understand if you can’t risk your brother’s life.” A sharp pain shot through her chest as the words left her mouth. “But you should know, if you choose Mary, I can't stay. I only said I’d become your mistress because that’s what I want Mary to think.” she answered. “In all actuality I wouldn’t be able to handle it…seeing you stand at her side…knowing that if she won’t release me from my duties to her I would have to be present as you consummate your marriage.” her hand slipped over her churning stomach. “Just the thought of it…”

Seeing a tear slip from her cheek he rushed to her and wrapped her in his arms. “Look at me.” she pulled her face out of his chest to look into his eyes. “I choose you.”

“What?” she asked, pulling her head back slightly.

"I won't marry her." He clarified. "I can't." His words brought a confused frown to her face.

"But…what about Francis…and the prophecy?" She asked.

"Just because I won't wed Mary doesn't mean he has to." He replied. "She can find another alliance elsewhere."

"So we're really getting married tomorrow?" She asked, in a bit of shock.

"Yes. By tomorrow night you will be my wife." He answered with a toothy smile.

A quiet laugh left her lips as she stood on her toes and caught his bottom lip between hers. A thought struck her, making her pull back to look him in the eyes. "You're sure you won't resent me if they do wed and something happens to Francis?"

“Of course not.” he replied. "A man should never have to choose between his brother and the woman he's loved since childhood. But I chose you and I always will." A tear slipped down her cheek and he wiped it away then caught her top lip between his for a short kiss.

Her eyes traveled to the open window of her room, noticing the sun had set. Bash followed her gaze. “I must go. The assassin is probably in Mary’s chambers as we speak.”

“Come back to me when it’s over?” Maisie asked with a look up at him through her lashes.

“Do you think that’s wise?” he asked, uncertain.

“I warned Mary I’d make her life a living hell.” Maisie replied, dropping her eyes to her hands on his chest as they slipped up to hold the sides of his neck. “You, in my bed, every night is one of the ways I intended on doing that.” she looked back up into his eyes. “So let her find out and leave the fall out to me.”

Bash gave her smirk. “Yes ma’am.” His words made her laugh before he caught her lips for a quick kiss. He then left her, both of them feeling lighter now.

RRRRRRRRR

She was dressed in a long sleeved, white satin nightgown, sitting at her writing desk, braiding ribbons of red, blue and brown in the candle light when her door quietly opened and closed. Bash walked over, curious as to what she was doing. “What is this?”

“Handfasting ribbons.” she replied. “I know it won’t be allowed at our wedding as it’s not a christian tradition, but it’s one that’s been in my family for generations.”

“My interest is piqued.” he said as he grabbed a chair and sat beside the desk, watching her fingers intertwine the ribbons. “Tell me more about this family tradition.”

“Well, usually the cords are braided during the ceremony while the bride and groom say their vows then they are tied around the wrists of the betrothed. After the ceremony the cords or ribbons stay on until midnight, assuming the marriage has been consummated by that point.” she answered.

“And is there a reason why you chose these colors?” he asked.

“Every color has several different meanings and the couple can choose their colors. But, seeing as we don't have much time, I took the liberty of choosing for us." She explained. "Red, for love, passion and courage. Light blue, for understanding and patience. And brown for healing, nurturing and home."

"Sounds like us to me." He agreed. "But if we can't use them in the ceremony what do you intend for us to do with them?"

"I don't know. It just felt wrong, not having them." She answered as she finished braiding then tied them off.

"How about…" as he spoke he took the finished ribbons out of her hand, set it on the desk then took her hands into his, "after the grand ceremony, we ride out to our tree and have a private little ceremony of our own?" He asked as he stood and she followed as he set her hands on his shoulders then wrapped his around her waist. "No scripted vows, no watching eyes. Just words and rituals of our choosing."

"That sounds lovely." She told him with a bright smile.

"Good." He replied before he caught her lips in a soft kiss that slowly deepened.

As they kissed her hands slipped up his chest then over his shoulders and down his arms, pushing off the jacket he wore over a thin, brown linen shirt. When it hit the floor he wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up. A girlish squeak left her lips as her arms tightened around his neck and her legs clumsily wrapped around him.

He chuckled at her as he carried her over to the bed and laid her down, his lips traveling down to her neck. "How I missed you." she whispered.

"I missed you too." Bash replied before he went back to kissing her neck.

They spent half the night lost in each other before they finally slipped off to sleep.

RRRRRRRRRR

Bash woke to the feel of Maisie's light touch, her fingertips slipping back and forth over the patch of dark hair in the center of his chest. A contemplative look on her face, her head propped up with her hand and elbow. "What's on your mind?" Bash asked, alerting Maisie to the fact that he was awake.

She took in a sharp breath and blinked out of her thoughts before her eyes met his. "When I told my friends about our engagement Greer asked me something and I realized I didn’t know the answer." She answered.

“And what question did she ask?” he asked.

“If you want children.” Maisie answered. “It’s one of the few things we’ve never discussed.”

“Of course I do.” he replied. “Do you? I know some women fear childbirth.”

“I don’t fear it. I’ve always wanted children.” she answered then dropped her eyes down to his chest. “Though I’d like to try to wait a little while…enjoy being young and constantly in your arms first. If that’s okay.” she looked back up to his face to see him give her a smirk.

He pushed himself up onto his forearm and slipped his free hand over her cheek, “I think I can handle that.” he caught her lips in a kiss.

As she laid back, resting her head on her pillow he followed, not breaking the kiss. After a moment a thought struck him and he pulled back with a hum. “I forgot to tell you, I met Keelan.”

“What, when?” she asked, a little upset she hadn’t been there.

"He cornered me in the halls on my way here last night." He answered. "He's a very…forward man, that friend of yours. From the way he looks out for you, you'd think he was your big brother."

"Yes…" Maisie sighed, "he can be a bit…overbearing. Did he give you an earful?"

"No." He answered. "However he did threaten to bury me alive if I wed Mary."

Maisie cringed. "Sorry…"

"No need. Like I said, he was just looking out for you. And I'm glad he was there for you when your brothers came. You're going to need him even more after tonight." He brushed a lock of hair out of her face and slipped his thumb over her cheek. "You'll need a friend you can trust. One who's not duty bound to Mary."

She gave him a sad smile. "How is it possible to be more excited than I have ever been and filled with dread at the same time?" she asked, thinking about what this would do to her friendship with Mary.

“I know you’re not looking forward to hurting Mary, but you must remember that she tried to take me from you.” he answered and Maisie raised her shoulders as she took a deep breath then dropped them and nodded as she let it out. “When you feel the dread seeping in, think of me…of this." He caught her lips in his and moved between her legs that wrapped around him. Him, grinding into her core, made her hum and press her fingertips into his shoulder blades.

"Bash…" she sighed. "Must you keep tempting me so close to our wedding night?"

"Yes." He answered, pulling back to look into her eyes. "I intend on spending the rest of my life tempting you, challenging you and being challenged by you." Maisie gave him a smile and caught his bottom lip between hers.

She pushed his shoulder and he rolled onto his back taking her with him. She set up, resting her hands on his stomach. "I wasn't just thinking about whether we wanted children or not. I've been awake for a while, thinking about the events of the near future. The ceremony…consummation…"

"Are you nervous?" He asked, slipping his thumbs over her satin covered sides where his hands held her.

"I wasn't until Lola warned me that the first time tends to hurt.” she admitted. Bash sighed and sat up, dropping his eyes. “Should I not have brought it up?” she asked with a frown as she dipped her head, attempting to catch his eye.

“No, it’s fine.” he answered, lifting his eyes to her. “It’s just…there’s something I wish to tell you, but I’m not sure if I should, especially now.”

"If you want to tell me, then tell me.” she told him as she unwrapped her arms from around his neck to softly hold the sides of it. "I can handle it."

“Even if it has to do with my past with other women?” he asked cautiously.

“Bash.” she said deadpanned. “You’re allowed to talk about your past and, believe it or not, I strangely like that you’re experienced. You’re not some clumsy boy who has no idea what he’s doing.”

Bash’s eyes dropped once again. “Actually, on this one occasion, I may be a bit inexperienced. I've…never bedded a virgin.” he watched, a bit worried, as her expression transitioned from one of confusion to one of realization.

“Was that…by design, or did it just happen to turn out that way?” she asked curiously.

“By design.” he answered. “I may be wrong, but I believe a woman’s first partner should be someone who truly cares for them.” his hands caressed her back as he explained. “I only ever wanted to be that man for one woman. You may not be my first sex partner, but tonight will be a night of firsts for me too. You’ll be the first woman to give me her virtue…” he pulled her close and pressed his forehead to hers, nuzzling her nose with his, “the first, and only, woman I’ll ever truly make love to. For I do believe there is a difference.”

A tear slipped down her cheek before her hands slipped up to hold the sides of his face as she caught his lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Eventually it slowed, then broke and she pressed her forehead to his, "I love you." she whispered, a bit breathless from the kiss. Bash smiled brightly as he fell back, taking her with him. He managed to place a few kisses to her neck before she set up and he let out a slightly agitated sigh. She just laughed before she said, “There is one more thing I thought about this morning that I’d like to discuss with you.”

“Good lord, how long have you been awake?” he asked.

“I rose sometime before the sun.” she answered. “Anyway, I know I said that I wanted to try to wait a while before having a child, but tonight…for this one night I don’t want to avoid it.” she fell forward, bracing herself on her hands beside his head. “I want our first time to be…natural, for a lack of better word."

"What do you mean by that?" He asked curiously.

"I've felt you reach completion between my lips and I've been aching to know what that will feel like when you're inside me.” A smile stretched her lips as his eyes darkened with lust. "What do you think?"

“I think I like the sound of that, but…are you sure?” he asked. “I don’t want you to end up looking back on our wedding night with regret.”

“I’m sure.” she answered with a nod. “If it’s meant to be then it’s meant to be. If not…” she caught his lips with hers in a short kiss, “then we’ll have fun practicing until we’re ready to try again.” she kissed his scruffy cheek.

“As long as you’re sure.” he agreed. She set up and smiled down at him. “Was there anything else bouncing around in that beautiful mind of yours, or am I free to ravish you for what little time we have left this morning?”

She pulled her lips to the side as she looked up at the ceiling in thought, “Actually, now that I think about it I-”

He sat up with an aggravated growl and she laughed as he grabbed her shoulders and rolled them over. They got lost in one another and only pulled apart because if he lingered any longer Mary would surely come looking for him.

After getting dressed Bash went to the door and Maisie followed. Before she could open the door he gave her one last kiss then cupped her face in his hands. “Don’t plan on sleeping this night, My love." He pecked her on the lips and left her behind with butterflies in her stomach and a blush on her cheeks.

RRRRRRRRRR

Maisie was sitting at her dressing table, still in her nightgown, brushing her long auburn locks, when a knock sounded from her door. When she pulled it open Mary stood on the other side. "What more could you possibly want from me?" Maisie asked.

"Bash stayed in your chambers last night, correct?" Mary asked, her tone cold as a stone in snow.

"Correct." Maisie answered just as coldly.

"Why?" Mary asked with a glare.

"Because a man can't change his heart simply because you bid it so." Maisie answered.

"You are released from your duties to me." Mary told her, a hint of sadness in her eyes. "I have arranged your passage to Scotland. You'll leave in the morning. Go home. Queer or not Keelan loves you. Marry him and grant yourself a happy life."

"Oh Mary…" Maisie sighed, "selfish, naive, foolish Mary. Scotland may be my country but it's not my home, Bash is. So I'm staying right where I am. After you and Bash are wed he will be the king of Scotland and eventually France. There will be nothing you can do to stop him from taking me as his mistress. He will never love you and because you have ruined the future we planned together he will never grant you permission to be with another. If he ever finds out you've bedded a man he can and will have your head thus freeing up the spot at his side for me. I will bear his children. You…will be nothing." She looked at her hand as she grabbed the door handle then looked back at Mary. "You're dead to me." She slammed the door in Mary's face.

Mary flinched and closed her eyes.

RRRRRRRRRR

Maisie was pulling a dress out of her wardrobe when a knock sounded from her door. “Come in.” she called as she folded the dress and tucked it into a trunk.

Greer, Lola and Kenna came in. “You’re packing?” Lola asked.

“Mary said you were staying, that you’re planning on becoming Bash’s mistress.” Kenna said, lifting her eyes from the truck to Maisie.

“I do intend on staying, but not in these chambers as they are intended for Mary’s ladies.” the weight of her words and the fact that they were true, this wasn’t a part of the role she was playing, pressed into her chest like a heavy blanket. After tonight she would never sleep in these chambers again, and her friendship with Mary would forever be changed. Her eyes watered at the thought. “And I am no longer one of you.”

“Oh, Maisie.” Greer sighed as the three girls closed on her and engulfed her in their arms.

“I know things seem bleak, but you will still be here…we’ll still be your friends.” Lola offered.

“You say that, but Mary will forbid you from seeing me.” Maisie argued.

“You can’t truly believe she would keep us from you.” Kenna said, looking at her sadly.

“She has already tried to send me back to Scotland with Keelan.” Maisie countered. “By staying and clinging to the man I love my relationship with Mary will be reduced to one no better than that of Catherine and Diane.”

“Then I suppose I should give this to you while I still can.” Kenna said before she left then came back with a white dress in her hands. “I know the timing is…unfortunate,” she said as she held it out to Maisie. “But I took the liberty of bringing your mothers dress to the castle seamstress. Of course she couldn’t med it, but she did save a majority of the lace and added it to this dress.”

Maisie took the dress with fresh tears in her eyes as she took in the lace on the puffed sheer sleeves and the belt. “So all of these applique are-”

“From your mothers dress, yes.” Kenna finished for her.

“I thought the servants had thrown the dress out with the rubbish.” Maisie said in awe of the dress. “Kenna…I…I don’t know what to say.'' She looked up at Kenna with a smile before she realized that as far as Kenna knew she would never get to wear the dress considering a king and his mistress never had any kind of ceremony. Her smile fell.

“Perhaps if you and Bash have a daughter she can wear it on her wedding day.” Greer offered in an attempt to cheer her up.

Maisie laid the dress out on the bed then sank down to sit beside it. “Maybe I should return to Scotland…marry Keelan…”

“Is that truly what you want?” Lola asked as she took a few steps closer.

“I think the real question is could you truly be happy stuck in a loveless marriage?” Kenna spoke up.

Maisie sighed and ran her fingers through her loose hair. “I don’t know.”

“Whatever your decision, we will support you.” Greer assured her.

The girls shared one more group hug before they left to tend to Mary.

RRRRRRRRRR

The maids that Catherine had sent were helping Maisie dress for the occasion and had just finished putting the final touches on her hair when a knock sounded from the door. She walked over to it and the ladies grew quiet as she called out, "Who is it?"

"Francis." He called back. "May I have a word?" Maisie stepped back and pulled the door open allowing him into the room. After shutting the door she turned to see that the ladies had gone into the bedchamber, the last room of the three room chambers, to give them some privacy where they stood in the entryway. Francis was looking at her with an appraising gaze and a smile. "My brother is a lucky man." Maisie just blushed and dropped her eyes for a moment. "I know about Nostradamus's prophecy. Mary and Bash believe in his gift. Do you?"

"I do." She answered.

"Do you still think Mary and I should be together?" He asked and Maisie nodded. "I'm not sure how I should feel about that." He admitted with a narrow of his eyes.

"Well, I don't wish for you to die if that's what you're suspecting." She replied as she walked over to the padded bench in the far corner of the room. Francis grabbed a nearby chair and pulled it over to sit across from her. "I just can't help thinking that if it were me and Bash in your stead…if marrying Bash would cause his death I would still want to marry him."

"Why?" Francis asked as he leaned forward, putting his elbows on his thighs, listening to her reasoning intently.

"Because a short life lived happily is better than a full life of misery." Maisie answered. "I would rather have a handful of wonderful memories of Bash and I together than no memories at all. Besides, while I do believe in Nostradamus's gift, I also believe the future is fluid. One small pebble dropped will cause a million ripples. It is impossible for Nostradamus to see all of those ripples. He correctly predicted that Bash would be taken from me, but he didn't see that I'd take him back." She explained. "I also believe our fate is ours to choose. Bash, Mary and your mother love you and they don't want to lose you. I don't either but it is your life on the line and it is your right to choose how you live it, no one else's." Francis hummed and gave her a smile as he sat up, leaning back in his chair. "What, may I ask, is that look about?"

"You are the only person who hasn't outright told me what to do." He responded. "Mother and Bash have urged me not to wed Mary. Father is demanding I wed her and deliver England to him. Mary is outright refusing me…" he told her with a shake of his head. "Your point of view is refreshing." Maisie just smiled and dropped her eyes to her hands. A few quiet moments passed before Francis spoke again. "Can you keep a secret?"

"Of course." Maisie answered and a small smile passed over Francis's lips.

"I've always been jealous of Bash." He admitted and Maisie gave him a look that asked him to explain. "He's always been free. Free to do whatever he wished no matter how dangerous. Father doesn't worry about him dying so much he doesn't get to live."

"I'm sorry. It must be incredibly restricting, being next in line for the throne." She said with a frown.

"It is, but I've come to terms with it." He brushed it off.

"Then why bring it up?" She asked curiously.

"Because the secret is I have a new reason to envy him." He replied. "He has you." Maisie frowned. "The love that you and Bash share is something I've only read about. Your devotion to him is…remarkable. I wish Mary could be as devoted to me as you are to Bash. I wish she could see things as you do and allow me the freedom to choose my own path instead of taking matters into her own hands."

"I'm not sure she'll have much say in the matter after tonight." Maisie pointed out.

"And for that I am grateful, however I fear if my father and her mother force our marriage she'll resent me." He replied.

"If she resents anyone it will be me, your parents and her mother." Maisie assured him. "I just hope that in time you both will forgive Bash and me for taking away your choice in the matter."

"As far as I am concerned you're already forgiven." Francis replied and she gave him a thankful smile. He stood and Maisie followed as he walked to the door then turned to look her up and down. "I can't wait to see the look on Bash's face when he sees you tonight." Maisie smiled softly and opened the door for him and closed it when he walked out.

RRRRRRRRRR

People stood in the chapel forming an aisle. Bash stood at the end of it, dressed in black clothing embroidered with gold thread befitting a royal. Gold buckles on the front of his tunic accented the embroidery. The deep crease in his brow made it seem as if he didn't want to be there. However in truth he was eager, excited and even a little nervous. Behind him stood a priest, an open bible in his hands. Mary waited to the side of the arching entryway, just out of sight, dressed in white with a bouquet in hand and her ladies standing behind her all wearing shades of dusty blue.

When music started playing Mary started to take a step into the entryway, but Henry’s guards grabbed her arms, stopping her. “Unhand me.” Mary told them, but stopped fighting when Maisie walked out from around the corner with a bouquet in hand. “What’s the meaning of this?” she asked, both shocked and pissed.

Maisie ignored Mary and stepped into the center of the arching entryway. Keelan walked up the aisle and held out his arm to Maisie. She laid her hand softly on his forearm then looked back at her friends. “Would you like to join me?” she asked quietly. Kenna and Greer moved around Mary to stand behind Maisie who gave them an appreciative smile. When they noticed that Lola hadn't joined them Greer motioned her over. Lola shook her head no, refusing to support Maisie's decision. A sharp pain shot through Maisie's heart before she pushed the pain to the back and turned her eyes to Bash.

The frown was now gone from his face as his eyes drank in Maisie in her simple and elegant, white stain, a-line dress with a high scoop neckline and puffed sleeves of lace appliqued chiffon that were cuffed to her wrists with beaded lace. A belt of lace that matched that on the sleeves was tied around her waist. It could barely be seen behind the bouquet of gardenias, greenery and little white stephanotis flowers. A lavish, three stranded pearl necklace with a square aquamarine gemstone in the center accented the scooped neckline of the dress.

Maisie only had eyes for Bash, though he was a bit blurred by the blusher of the veil that was draped over her face, and she couldn't help smiling like a fool at the look on his face as she walked toward him. Once at the altar, Keelan took Maisie's hand and placed it in Bash's as he looked him in the eyes pointedly, "Treat her right or you will come to regret it." He warned then moved to stand with the rest of the people in the room. As Kenna and Greer moved to stand at her side, Francis and Henry walked out of the crowd and stood beside Bash, showing their support for him.

"Sebastian, Maisie,” as the priest spoke, the couple turned to face him, “have you come here to enter into marriage without coercion, willingly and wholeheartedly?" The priest asked.

"I have." Bash and Maisie answered together.

"Are you prepared, as you follow the path of marriage, to love and honor one another for as long as you both shall live?" He asked.

"I am." Maisie and Bash answered again.

“Since it is your intention to enter the covenant of Holy Matrimony, you must declare your consent before God.” the priest told them. Maisie handed her bouquet off to Kenna then turned toward Bash and grabbed both of his hands.

“I, Sebastian, take you, Maisie, to be my wife. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you until death do we part.”

“I, Maisie, take you, Sebastian, to be my husband. I promise to be faithful to you, in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love you and to honor you until death do we part.”

“May the Lord in his kindness strengthen the consent you have declared. What God has joined, let no one put asunder." The priest turned to Henry who handed him two simple golden bands. The priest blessed them with a prayer and holy water then handed one to Bash and the other to Maisie.

Bash took her left hand into his. “Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the holy spirit.” he slipped the thin gold band onto her finger alongside the rose ring.

Maisie took his left hand in hers. “Receive this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity. In the name of the father, and the son, and the holy spirit.” She slipped the ring on his finger and they grabbed each other's hand then looked at the priest.

“In the sight of God and these witnesses, I now pronounce you husband and wife. Sebastian, you may now kiss your bride.” Bash lifted the veil from her face, cupped her cheek in one hand and pressed a light, lingering kiss to her lips. “Go in peace to glorify the Lord with your life.” The priest closed things out and motioned for the newlyweds to leave. The people in the room applauded as they walked down the aisle hand in hand.

Mary, who had been forced to watch from the back, chased after them. "What have you done?" She practically yelled at Maisie's back.

"I took back my fate." Maisie answered as she stopped and faced Mary.

"And damned Francis in the process." Mary said with tears pooling in her eyes.

"A fate that is his to choose to live with or change. His, not yours or Catherine's." Maisie argued. "You once forced my hand to keep me with the man I love. Consider this me returning the favor."

Mary looked at Bash with glaring eyes. "You were in on this. Henry didn't want us to wed quickly to force the Vatican to legitimize you."

"I told you I never wanted to be king. You didn't listen." Bash answered.

"I never wanted to hurt you.” Maisie told her honestly. “You were my friend. But you stabbed me in the back and shattered my trust and my loyalty for you. Now, if you'll excuse me." Maisie and Bash turned their backs and took a step.

"You are not excused!" Mary yelled.

Maisie rolled her eyes as she turned and looked at Mary. "My wording was an attempt to remain civil. I'll rephrase. I am now a French subject. I answer to you no longer."

Henry walked over to stand on the other side of Maisie, looking flatly at Mary. "I suggest you stop harassing Lady Maisie."

"Lady?" Mary asked, surprised.

"Countess, to be more specific." Maisie answered, making Mary's jaw drop.

Francis walked over to stand beside Mary. "Bash, Maisie, congratulations." He told them with a pleasant, closed lipped smile on his face.

"Did you have prior knowledge of this?" Mary asked, glaring at him as well.

"Yes." Francis answered with a smirk at Mary.

Maisie looked up at Bash. "We're going to be late for our reception if we linger any longer."

"Yes, go." Henry spoke up then looked at Maisie and Bash. "Celebrate your future and a job well done." He looked at Mary. "How things proceed from here will be up to Queen Mary."

"Father-in law," Maisie said with a bow then turned to Francis and gave him a bow as well, "Brother-in-law." She gave them a smile and ignored Mary all together as she took Bash's offered arm and they walked away.

RRRRRRRRRR

Neither Bash or Maisie wanted a reception, but it was customary. Before they could have their first dance, Kenna and Greer rushed over to Maisie with smiles on their faces. Lola lagged behind. “You all told me this morning that no matter my decision, you’d support me. I know you were all unaware that this was an option, but-”

“We’re happy for you.” Kenna cut her off.

“You’re not angry with me, for pulling the rug from under Mary’s feet?” Maisie asked sheepishly.

“Of course not.” Greer answered.

Maisie noticed that Lola hadn’t said anything and was keeping her eyes downcast. “You don’t agree with them.” she said as she dipped her head into Lola’s line of vision.

“If Mary wed’s Francis and he does lose his life, Mary will grow to resent you.” Lola answered. “You are her friend, her lady. How could you have acted so selfishly?”

“Lola.” Greer chidded her.

“It’s alright.” Maisie told Greer. “She is entitled to her opinion." She turned her eyes back to Lola. "You see my actions as selfish because I'm one of Mary's ladies, and as such every move I make must be in her best interests, in Scotland's best interests. While this move was selfish on my part, I assure you it is in Scotland's best interest and therefore in Mary's."

"Is that what king Henry told you?" Lola asked.

"No it's what common sense tells me." Maisie answered. "What good is a marriage to the next king of France if France is in shambles itself?"

"What do you mean?" Kenna asked.

"If Mary were to wed Bash it wouldn't only put Bash in a position he is unprepared for. It would force Henry to annul his marriage to Catherine and put Diane on the throne. Diane's return to court would hurt Kenna as well as Catherine." Maisie explained.

"Sense when do we care about Catherine? Lola asked.

"She may be cold sometimes but there is a heart in her chest and she loves her children with all of it." Maisie responded. "If Bash were legitimized, Catherine and her children, Francis and his little brothers, would be in danger, forced to live in hiding for fear of Bash's supporters. They would try to kill little Henry and Charles to keep them from staking claim to the throne."

"That's horrible, but I don't see how it would put France in shambles." Lola argued.

"The Nobles would do that. The ones in charge of putting food in our mouths, the ones the king and Queen have to smile and placate, they would riot if the line of succession were tempered with. There would be uprisings and uprisings bring a needless death count of both citizens and soldiers. The same soldiers the king commands, that Mary needs at her disposal." Maisie finished explaining then gave Lola a chance to speak, instead she hugged herself and looked down. "Either way what's done is done and I'm leaving court."

"What?" Greer asked sadly.

"Bash and I were given title and lands for helping Henry and Catherine." Maisie answered. "We have a chateau, just outside the castle grounds. You're welcome to come visit if Mary allows."

Bash walked over and rested his hand on her lower back then whispered something in her ear, took a step back and held his hand out to her. When she took it the musicians started playing and Bash led her out onto the dance floor. "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?" Bash asked as they started dancing. Maisie just hummed and shook her head. "Well you do and you are." He assured her, making her give him a soft smile. "Seems Catherine knows your tastes."

"The dress wasn't Catherine's doing." Maisie replied. "It was Kenna's."

He gave her a confused look considering Kenna didn't know they were getting married.

"I thought the maids had taken my mother's wedding dress, thinking it was rubbish. Turns out Kenna took it. She brought it to a seamstress for mending, but as I already knew it couldn't be fixed. So the seamstress saved what she could of the lace and added it to a new dress of similar style."

"We'll, that was kind of her." He said with a surprised look.

"I know she is reckless and careless in love, but there are two things she truly does care about. Her friends and her country." She defended.

He gave her a soft smile. "We'll, I suppose anyone who cares for you can't be so terrible."

She noticed his eyes drop to the expensive necklace. "It was a gift." She answered and he looked into her eyes as he grabbed her hips, picked her up and spun her around.

"Who from?" He asked as he set her back down. "Wait, let me guess, Keelan?"

Maisie smiled, "No, Aylee gifted me the necklace the morning of her passing." She answered, feeling a pang in her chest at the thought of her fallen friend. "She gave all of us necklaces to wear at Mary's wedding. She thought I'd like this one. The gemstone reminded her of your eyes."

His eyes softened. "You must miss her."

"I do." She said, tears welling in her eyes. "I thought wearing it might make it feel as if she were here with me." She took a deep breath and blinked back the tears. "Besides, I highly doubt Mary will want me in her wedding after tonight. So it's not like I'll get to wear it for its intended purpose anyway."

"You're letting the dread seep in." He pointed out as he grabbed her hand and held it over her head as she twirled.

"I know…I apologize." Maisie sighed as she stopped and Bash grabbed her hips then lifted her as he spun.

"Don't apologize." He told her as he set her down, her breath quickening from the feel of her body in the satin dress sliding down his before she landed on her feet. "Simply do as I suggested this morning and think only of me." They stopped dancing as he tucked an auburn curl behind her ear then rested the heel of his hand on her cheek as he pressed a lingering kiss to her lips. When it broke she let a small smile grace her lips. "I don't know about you, but I've had enough of this party." He rested his forehead on hers. "Father's gotten what he wanted. It's time I get what I want."

"And what do you want, dear husband?" She asked sweetly.

"You...all to myself." He answered.

Her smile brightened. "I think I can handle that."

RRRRRRRRRR

"So, I noticed something in our vows that I don't entirely agree with." Maisie said from where she sat in front of Bash in the saddle on his horse, no longer in her wedding dress, but a simple long sleeve, cream colored eyelet lace top and skirts held in place with a white corset.

"Really, what?" He asked as they ducked under a low hanging limb.

"We vowed to love one another until death parts us." She pointed out. "But I argue that I will never stop loving you. Even after death I will remain yours."

"I like the sound of that." he agreed as he steered the horse. "I've been thinking about what our private ceremony should consist of. I think, since our last oath has been fulfilled, we make a new one. A new vow to fix the flaw in our public vows. Unless you had something else in mind."

"I don't." she answered as she leaned to the side and looked at him over her shoulder. “And I’d love to.” A smile brightened his eyes before he caught her bottom lip between his. After riding in silence for a few moments the grand French oak tree, its base was surrounded by lanterns while others were scattered around the ground lighting the night, came into sight. A blanket that was spread out on the ground nearby. "Bash, this is beautiful…" she said in awe.

Bash pulled the horse to a stop and dismounted before helping Maisie down. They walked hand in hand to stand in front of the tree then worked together to secure the handfasting ribbons around their wrists. "If I die first I will wait for you at heaven's gates, unable to pass through, for my heart and soul will remain on earth with you.” he took a dagger out of a sheath on his hip. “If you go first I will remain yours, incomplete until I'm at your side again." He said as he cut over the scar on his hand.

She brushed the backs of her fingers over his scruffy cheek as she repeated his words then took the dagger from him and traced the scar on her right hand with the sharp tip of the blade. "Never shall we ever truly part."

He smiled and took the dagger from her then put it back in its sheath. "Never shall we ever truly part." He too promised as they clasped their hands together. They shared a smile before he caught her lips in a deep kiss that pulled a hum from her. He echoed the sound back as he pulled her into him. Deciding she needed more than kisses she pulled back, looked down at their bound hands and slipped her hand from the loop. "I thought it was supposed to stay on until midnight."

She took the loop from his hand and pulled the ends, forming a knot in the center of the braided ribbons. "I don't want them to get in the way."

"Of?" He asked as she reached over and draped the ribbons over a low hanging branch to keep them from getting dirty on the ground.

She simply looked up at him through her lashes with a smirk as she grabbed his hand and led him over to the blanket. His eyes darkened as she turned to him and he watched her start working on the gold buckles of the leather vest he wore over a dark long sleeved shirt. As she worked on the buckles, he started untying the laces at the back of her corset.

A heavy sigh left her lips when he cupped her face in his hand, his blood smearing over her cheek as he kissed down her jawline to her neck and she tilted her head. He tossed her corset to the side and shrugged off his tunic, breaking the kiss to grab the v-shaped collar of his black cotton shirt and pull it over his head, tossing it in the same direction as her corset. While he removed his shirt she removed hers then, with lust in her eyes, reached back, untying her skirts and they pooled at their feet. Bash captured her lips in a kiss that didn’t last long before he moved to her neck and chest, dropping to his knees as he kissed down her torso and pulled her knickers down her long smooth legs. With them gone he looked up at her, taking a moment to bask in the sight of her standing before him completely naked for the first time.

Maisie kicked the clothes around her feet aside and kneeled down, hooking her hand around the back of his neck as she caught his bottom lip between hers. He laid her back, hovering over her from the side.

After a while of passionate kissing, their hands exploring what flesh was bare, Maisie gave his shoulder a push and he rolled over. He watched with lustful eyes as she straddled his legs and started unbuckling his belt then the buttons of his trousers.

As soon as she was done he set up. His hands slid up her flawless bare back to press into her shoulder blades as he kissed her neck then trailed noisy kisses over her chest and between the valley of her breasts before catching the peek of her right one between his thin lips. A gasp left her lips at the new sensation. Both of them enjoyed him exploring her chest for a moment before he caught her lips with his once again and didn't break the kiss as he laid back then rolled over.

After a moment he stood and removed his trousers then kicked them aside and returned to her. His weight rested on his right forearm on the blanket beside her head. His left hand grabbed hers, threading their fingers together, the fresh cuts aligned. Assuming he wanted them to be connected in every conceivable way she gripped his hand and tightened her legs around his waist. A shaky sigh left both of their lips when the tip of him pressed into her, teasing her in the best possible way.

Her free arm hooked under his to hold his shoulder. An almost pained sounding hum left her parted lips when, instead of entering her, like she so desperately wanted, he slipped his length between her slick lips, rubbing against her clit. The action didn't only pleasure both of them but also coated him in her arousal to make him entering her a little easier. His own heavy breaths filled her ear as he kissed her neck, teasing her with slow drawn out movements of his hips. "Make love to me, Bash." She sighed, then resumed kissing his shoulder.

"Are you sure you're ready?" He whispered teasingly in her ear then kept kissing her neck.

Her response was a sound of aggravation as she lightly bit his shoulder, dug her heels into his rear, her fingertips pressed into his back and her right hand squeezed his, their fingers still intertwined.

He chuckled as he pulled back and looked into her eyes that gave him a playful glare. His face turned soft but serious as he brushed his thumb over her cheek. "Let me know if you need me to slow down or stop."

She gave him a nod, so he didn't take his eyes off hers as he reached down, lined himself up and pressed in. Slowly he entered her, watching closely for signs of discomfort, but he saw none. Only an expression of pleasure as her cinnamon brown eyes, clouded with lust, gazed into his with an almost overwhelming amount of love. The combination was one he'd never seen before and it only added heat to the fire already burning within him. After sinking into her completely he let his head fall to rest on her shoulder. A shaky breath left his lips.

Maisie moved her hand from where it had been gripping his shoulder to slip it up his chest to hold the side of his neck, "Is something wrong?"

He lifted his head and she slipped her hand over his cheek. "No." He answered. "You feel better than I ever could have imagined." He elaborated and her worried eyes softened as a fleeting smile pulled at one side of her lips. "Are you alright?"

"Perfectly." She answered then placed a few kisses to his shoulder as she slipped her hand down his neck and chest then around to rest on his lower back. She kissed up to his ear then rolled her hips into his as she whispered, "Please, continue, whenever you're ready."

Her action pulled a labored breath from him before he captured her lips in a hungry kiss. Despite the temptation to go fast and hard, he kept the strokes of his hips agonizingly slow and gentle.

After a moment his movements, which had felt a little odd to her at first, started to feel better and better. His breaths in her ear, the caress of his lips on her neck, his free hand holding the side of her head, fingers embedded in her hair while his left hand still held her right, a slight sting in her palm from the pressure on her open cut…it all fed the feeling building within her.

Bash reveled in her. The feel of her ample chest pressed against his, the way her fingertips pressed into his back, her thighs gripping him, her hips moving perfectly in time with his as if this were the hundredth time they'd made love, her quiet panting and the occasional high pitched moan that would slip, despite her trying to hold them back. He'd been on edge since entering her and wasn't sure how much longer he could hold back, but he could tell she was getting close. "Bash, I-" she panted.

"I know." He sighed, nuzzling his face into her neck, "Let go and I will surely fall with you." The words of encouragement and the light squeeze he gave her hand pushed her over the edge and a muffed moan filled his ear as she pressed her face into his neck.

Just when she thought he couldn't possibly make her feel better than she did in that moment, his choked, deep moan filled the space around them and he began pulsing inside her, filling her with an intense warmth. The sensation pulled a short, high pitched moan from her as her thighs tightened around him and her fingertips once again dug into his smooth back. They rode the waves of ecstasy together, him peppering her neck and chest with kisses while her free hand caressed his side and back until the waves subsided.

After a long, comfortably quiet moment he caressed her nose with his then pulled back and put most of his weight on his right forearm. When his eyes moved to their hands still clasped together hers followed and watched as they let go, both flexing their fingers after holding the position for so long. Only a small amount of blood was on their palms since the pressure had stopped the wounds from bleeding.

Bash cupped her cheek in his left hand brushing his thumb over her cheekbone as he gazed at her content face. "Tell me what you're thinking."

"I'm thinking that I understand why you told me not to plan on sleeping tonight." She answered. "Because I want to do that again," she pecked him on the tip of his nose, "and again," then his cheek, "and again," then whispered in his ear, "until the sun rises."

He chuckled as he rolled into his back, taking her with him. "Then may I suggest we retire to a location better suited for such activities?" He asked as she set up and his hands grabbed her hips. Both of them then noticed the blood that had been smeared everywhere their cut hands had explored. "And perhaps a bath."

"You read my mind." She answered as she leaned down and caught his lips in a playful kiss.

Tag List: @lilbitofliah @ranuchiha @jodiereedus22

#bash reign #reign bash #reign fanfiction #reign sebastian #reign #sebastian de poitiers x oc #sebastian de poitiers #sebastian x oc #sebastian #bash x oc #bash fanfiction #bash

13 notes · View notes

earlgodwin · 1 year

Photo

Bash, we're brothers. We could always trust each other regardless of our station.

257 notes · View notes

liahswriting · 2 years

Text

Stay

Relationship(s): Sebastian de Poitiers/Original Female Character

Words: 13,066 (yes, you read that right)

Warnings: None

Summary: Sebastian has been exiled. He could go to Spain. Or Sweden. Or Germany. Who knows. As he tries to figure out his next move, he comes across an abandoned shack in the middle of nowhere and decides to take refuge. Only, the 'shack' isn't abandoned at all.

AKA me losing my mind because this was meant to be a short one-shot but I got carried away and spent 3 days writing this 13k word masterpiece.

The cold bit into Sebastian's skin even under the fur layers he wore. His covered fingers were like ice, and dew froze on top of his eyelashes underneath the moonlight. It didn't help that it started to rain as well. His clothes would only protect him for so long unless he got out of this weather and waited for it to pass by. He thought of making shelter in the woods, but the wet ground would not help and the rain would not sustain a fire. He needed a roof over his head. At least just for tonight.

He went trekking in search of perhaps a cave or hillside of some sort that would provide a barrier above him, but once the moon had settled directly overhead, he realized he was wasting time and energy. At least a tent on the ground was better than walking aimlessly about in the rain.

He back tracked a bit; there was a stream not too far back where he could set up near. Maybe get some water boiling to drink before he attempted sleep. After several moments of walking, he heard the trickle of the stream a ways away and followed it.

A small, insignificant flicker of...... something..... off in the distance caught his attention. Was it light? Always fearing the worst, Sebastian readied his weapons and stalked as quietly as possible towards the thing he saw. It didn't move other than in size as Sebastian got closer. Once on its tail, he realized he saw the reflection of the moon off of a glass window. A dirty window on a worn-looking....... shed. Was this pathetic looking building a place of importance? All of these broken wooden walls, crooked windows and doors, was this important? He had no idea what this could possibly be. No distinct markings of any kind.

But, at least it was a roof. And four walls that could keep most of the cold out. And, once entering the squeaky place, he noticed a fire place. Perhaps this was someone's house at some point. Whoever once owned this home is long gone. For tonight, it was his.

He immediately went to start a fire with whatever broken wooden bits he could find. Once the embers burst into flame, he sighed in relief. The warmth was indeed a welcome gift that brought life back to his fingertips and nose. Just in time too. Any minute more and his fingers would've fallen off.

He next removed his outer fur layer and hung it to dry. While that was happening, he took to looking about the place, see what he could make use of. There were a few beds in the house as well as a wash room. Perhaps a family lived here. Although, who knows how old the cloth atop the mattresses are. He made sure to poke it around with his sword to make sure no rats have burrowed within.

This dilapidated, abandoned home may be something from a nightmare, but it'll do for the night. Once the weather clears, he'll hunt for food, and by morning he'll be gone. But first, some sleep. His limbs felt like lead just dragging him down. He kicked off his boots and winced at the bed as he got in it. At least it was warm. And then he as out like a light.

Sleep was only a short reprieve. It felt like his eyes had only been closed for a few seconds before he found himself pulled back into the real world as a short prick pained his cheek. He wiped away the pain with his finger tips only to open his eyes and find blood painting his skin. He shot up, ready for a fight.

"Make another move and I chop off your head." a feminine voice warned beside him. He turned to see a short-statured redhead aiming his own weapon at his face. From behind her soaking wet hair, he could still see the moon in the sky through the window and hear the harsh patter of rain against the glass. "I will give you one chance and one chance only: who are you and what are you doing in my home?"

"Your home?" Sebastian balked. "You live here? I'm sorry, I was under the impression the place was abandoned."

"Well it isn't!" she yelled. Sebastian held his hands up in defense, hoping it seemed that he meant no harm.

"My mistake. I'm merely a hunter who got caught in the rain and was seeking shelter. I thought this place was forgotten by its previous owners, and only wanted a warm place to sleep."

"Even if I believe your story, it doesn't tell me who you are: so, tell me. Who. The hell. Are you?!" she demanded, venom laced in her tone. The look of his sword blade right in front of his eyes kept a sarcastic remark behind his tongue.

"My name is Bash. I'm a hunter."

"What is a hunter like you doing so far out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I could ask the same of you."

"Don't test me!" she pushed the sword closer to him, and he held his hands up higher.

"I was traveling through France towards the Spanish border."

"Why? What are you running from? Who's following you?"

"No one is following me. Can't a man simply travel?"

"Not in the middle of the night. The only people who 'travel' at this hour are bandits, prisoners, and enemies. Which one are you?"

"I'm only a friend." Sebastian tried his best to sound as genuine as possible. "I mean you no harm. If my presence here is a threat to you, I will leave. Had I known this place was still habited, I wouldn't have barged in as I did."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know you won't run off to your friends and bring them back here to kill me?"

"If I wanted to kill you, do you think I would do more than sit here like a scared child while you point my own sword at my face?"

His words seemed to have had an effect on her. He could see her eyes glimmer in thought. For only a split second, his sword dipped in her hand away from his face and he had a moment to breathe properly.

"I suppose you have a point. As insignificant as it may be."

"I can leave if you wish me to. But if you were to be kind enough to let me wait out the storm outside, I can make it worth your while."

"Oh yeah? How so?"

"If you allow me to-" he began to slowly stand on his feet. When her glare hardened, and she pressed the sword blade directly against his throat, he paused for a moment. Only after a few seconds pause, he continued standing. "My carry on," he pointed to the other room where the fire was. "I can reward you for your generosity."

"If you're referring to the stash of gold in your bag, I already saw it. And I'm not interested. I have no use for it."

"Then I can reward you another way; I am a very skilled hunter. I will offer a lavish breakfast in the morning that will last you for days, if you allow me to stay for the night."

"Stay? So you can kill me in my sleep?"

"I offer no such threat. Keep my sword for the night if you wish. All I ask is for a warm place to sleep, and to dry my clothes."

Sebastian was indeed a skilled huntsman. And he did intend on keeping his promise of providing breakfast in the morning. But he wasn't as skilled with words, and he feared maybe she wouldn't believe him and then slit his throat with his own weapon. Her eyes turned into slits as she glared at him. He couldn't see anything within her brown irises that would indicate any sort of thought. But her still posture and lack of will to outright attack had to mean something, right?

"Consider yourself lucky that I am a generous woman." she finally concurred and dropped his weapon from his neck. "Stay, if you wish. But I will hold all of your weapons, and you will not get them back until the morning sun breaks the horizon and you leave my home and never turn back."

"That sounds fair."

"Try anything, and I will have your head mounted on the wall like an animal and your body sent back in pieces to wherever you came from."

Sebastian swallowed at the threat. He admits that the threat scared him a bit and made him second guess staying at all, but he choked it down and talked himself into staying. Even without his weapons, he could probably find a way to outfight her if she turned on her word. But she had the upper hand here. She had his sword, and his other weapons once he gave them up when she demanded, yet she didn't harm him. He felt she could see he did not intend to hurt her, and that's what has kept him safe thus far.

She took his weapons and went back into the main room where the fire was. He could hear her walking about, not at all trying to be quiet. She wanted her presence known. She wanted him to know she was awake and alert so he didn't get any stupid ideas.

It was difficult to fall back asleep after that. He was on alert as well. His mind told him to stay awake and keep an eye on her, but his body was desperate to get back to sleep. Sebastian weighed the different scenarios of what would happen if he fell back asleep. She could easily kill him if she wanted to. She could. But she would've already done so if she truly wanted to. This helped Sebastian find the will to give in to the darkness of slumber once more.

It was a rough night sleeping anyway. He woke up a few times throughout the night as his sensitive ears picked up on her trotting about the house. It seemed she didn't trust him enough to sleep either. And once the morning sun filtered in through the stained windows, he deemed it was time to get out of bed. Cautiously, he left the bedroom, making sure to announce himself to the woman so she didn't stab him in feigned defense.

"Here are your clothes -all dry. Dress and I will give you back your weapons." she ordered him, tossing him his shoes and fur coat. He did as he was told, and, as promised, she returned his sword, knives, and bow. "Don't let me see your face ever again. Or I won't be so kind."

"Understood. I apologize again for the intrusion of your home.

"Just leave."

He did, without question. He left through the cracked door and stepped out into the mud. The rain had stopped at least, and the sun was warm this morning. So he left. Just as he promised he would.

Promise.

He did promise her breakfast for her generosity. It may be stupid to attempt to stay within the region given that he was now a free man, and that she made it clear she didn't want to see him again. But a promise is a promise. Perhaps the deer drinking from the stream would be a good enough breakfast for her.

Sebastian hunted all morning. He was hungry too, after all. He hadn't eaten anything since the day before. He didn't call it quits until he had a deer strapped to his back and a few rabbits hanging on a thread. And then he made the decision to head back.

He spotted her through the window milling about. She appeared to have forgotten him already. There wasn't a care in the world in her eyes. At least until she by chance looked through the window and spotted him staring at her. Her face turned into a scowl and she stormed out through the front door with a knife in hand.

"I told you to never come back!" she yelled at him, knife raised.

"You did." he quickly responded, hoping she didn't attack while his hands were held up. "But I promised you breakfast. And I am a man of my word."

"You expect me to just take you at your word?"

"Do I not have an animal hanging off my neck? One that is really heavy, might I add." he huffed out and then approached her to drop the deer at her feet. He then lifted the thread of rabbits in front of her face and dropped those too. "A breakfast of warriors. This should last you a few days, like I promised."

"You wouldn't share them with me?" she suddenly questioned in a softer tone than she's been using. Sebastian cocked his head as he watched her. "You did, after all, do the hard work. I suppose..... you can stay for breakfast."

"Do I have to surrender my weapons this time?" he attempted to be funny. She pondered it for a moment.

"Leave them in the bedroom. And then help me skin the animals to put them on the spit." At least he wasn't held hostage this time.

He did as he was told and entered the house to leave his sword and bow on her bed. When he went back outside, he already saw her skinning one of the rabbits. He joined her and took a second rabbit and began skinning it with his knife. Together, the two of them silently had all of the animals ready for roasting. She got a second fire going outside for the deer while the rabbits would cook on the fire inside. While they waited, he offered to get some water for them. Hesitantly, she handed him a large metal bucket and told him to fill it in the stream. He did so, and then lugged it back where she put it on the fire to boil beside the deer.

It was midday by the time the rabbits were ready. The deer would take a few more hours to fully cook. But at least they had this to fill their bellies. She allowed him back into the house to sit and eat. She graciously poured them both some ale to enjoy with their meal.

"I suppose I should thank you for the food." she randomly said in between bites. Sebastian looked up at her with a mouth full of his own food. He swallowed it before speaking.

"My pleasure." he said and she snorted, making him squint at her.

"Your pleasure? If you find it pleasurable to be held at knife point in which offering a trade deal to save your life, then I question your life choices."

"You have me there. I meant, it was no issue providing breakfast."

"I have to ask: I've never met a huntsman that carried around a sack of gold like you do. There's more to you that you're not telling me."

"Let's just say....... I was cast out of my home. I took what I could, what I would need, and was on my way."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Okay." she shrugged. "That was more truthful than what you told me last night." she reminded and then took a drink of her ale.

"Last night I had a sword to my neck."

"You broke into my home."

"That's a fair point. Again, allow me to apologize. When I saw the place, I assumed no one lived here; there was no fire, the walls were cracked and the door was halfway open-" he began to explain himself but she interrupted him.

"This house is old. Belonged to my father. Who inherited it from his father. There are flaws, I admit, but some of them have memories attached to them. Others, I can't find the time to fix." Just as she said that, the front door opened on its own. "Like that damn door. Can't ever keep it shut. I have to put a chair in front of it at night so the cold doesn't burden me."

She got up and forced the door back into its track, giving it a pound with her palm for good measure. Sebastian got up as well to inspect the door. He ran his fingers over the wood, finding what flaws she was talking about.

"I can fix it for you." he offered. At her bemused huff, he explained. "The frame is splintered. It can't hold the weight of the door. The entire frame will need to be replaced, but it should be an easy fix."

"You want to fix my door?" she asked sarcastically.

"Consider it my thanks for not slitting my throat in my sleep." he chuckled.

"Be my guest, if it suits you."

"I will go get some wood to shape. I saw some oak trees not too far north. The wood would be best for a door. Do you have an axe I could borrow?"

"You're seriously going to fix my door?" she more so asked to herself. "There's a shed out back. Should be in there."

Sebastian went to the shed and found the axe mingled among some gardening tools and other weapons. He grabbed the axe and headed north, tracing his steps to where he last remembered the oak trees. It was a little farther than he remembered, and the journey there took about an hour if he was judging the change in sun correctly. He didn't need a lot of wood for the project, so he opted to just cut down some of the branches to take back as it was less strenuous to take a few branches than some hefty logs.

He tied the axe to his belt and began to climb one of the smaller oak trees that had low enough boughs for him to get his footing on. He inspected the branches to see what would be easy enough to cut down and carry back. He'd have to carefully crawl across one of the larger boughs to get to the thinner branches on the end, but it was either that or cut down large logs he couldn't carry.

So he positioned himself on his rear and dragged himself down the length of the bough and began to chop off the ends. They fell to the ground with ease and, eventually, a small pile had formed. That should be more than enough wood to make a door frame. So he tied the branches together and dragged them all the way back to her place.

She was digging a hole just off to the side of her home when he returned. She stopped what she was doing when he approached.

"I'll have your door fixed by nightfall." he promised. She merely allowed him through and then went back to her digging. She dropped what appeared to be cut potatoes into the hole and then replaced the soil.

Sebastian went to work on shaping the logs into planks that matched the dimensions of what was already in place. After that, he sanded them down with a flint cloth he found in the shed. Once the wood was free of cracks and splinters, he began removing the broken frame from her door. It came off in pieces, revealing just how bad the issue had spread. Some of the wood had rotted due to water getting within the cracks. He mentioned this much to her when she offered him some water.

Hours had passed when she interrupted him again for dinner.

"The deer has finished cooking. Come eat before you collapse."

He put down his tools and joined her for dinner. She prepared some carrots and potatoes to go along with the venison. Honestly, it smelled quite good despite being so simple. They ate together in mostly silence. She would ask a question or two, he'd respond with some joke, and then they'd go back to eating for awhile.

Sebastian finished his food quickly, promising he'd have the door fixed soon. All he had left to do was put the new frame in place. The nails that held the old frame were mostly rusted, but there were a few he was able to salvage and use. The frame would need a few more nails to keep it fully in place, but for now, the few he had would at least hold it up. He managed to find a couple more nails in the shed that he used. And, as promised, just as the moon was starting to rise, he showed off the new door.

"And, just like that, your door is brand new." he grinned triumphantly at her as he shut the door, allowing her to hear it seal into place.

"I'm impressed. Thank you, Bash."

"My pleasure."

"It's dark out." she noted, looking out of the window. "You can stay again tonight if you'd like."

"That's kind of you," he said. "But I've taken up too much of your time."

"Stay. You fixed my door, it's the least I can offer."

"Thank you."

"But I'll be sleeping in my bed tonight." she declared and then stalked off to her bedroom. Sebastian huffed to himself.

In the morning, he woke before her. He was hoping to leave before she woke up, but she caught him as he was in the middle of dressing.

"You're leaving." she observed.

"I think it's past time I take my leave. Thank you for your hospitality, given we didn't exactly meet on the most friendly of terms."

"You should at least eat before you head out. It's cold, I'll make some soup." she stated instead of asked. She didn't wait for a response before she put a bucket of water on the fire to start boiling. She readied some leftover carrots and potatoes to dump in, as well as some onion, celery, and leftover venison alongside a myriad of spices.

Sebastian felt he wouldn't be able to get out of this, so he sat at the table and waited. She was very blunt and direct, he told himself. Most women weren't so brash as her. But, to be fair, she was only trying to defend her home. She lived alone, it seemed. She had to be strong if she were to ward off any enemies. Perhaps that's why she opted to settle in the middle of nowhere -less likely to come across anyone.

The soup was ready quickly, and she served him a large bowl of it, then joined him at the table with her own serving.

"Where are you headed after this?" she questioned him.

"Anywhere."

"You don't seem very oriented."

"Where does one go when they've been exiled from their family?" he countered.

"Do you not have any other family in France?"

"No. All I had was my mother, father, and brothers."

"And they just cast you out?"

"I suppose I haven't been the best son or brother lately."

"I can't imagine what you could've done that was so bad. My family was always close. We fought a lot, but we loved each other. We wouldn't have exiled one of our own." she reminisced in her memories as she spoke.

"I guess our families just don't see eye-to-eye." he snarked, hoping she'd leave the topic be. She did.

Soon enough, they finished their breakfast. Sebastian got up to gather his belongings, intending to set out finally. She got up too, intending on cleaning up the dishes. As she dragged her chair across the floor, one of the legs broke off and she sighed. Sebastian picked up the broken piece and looked at it.

"Easy fix. There's some leftover wood outside. I can make a new leg." he stated.

"And now you want to fix my chair."

"Consider it my thanks for breakfast this morning. It won't take long at all. An hour at most."

"Have at it, then."

Sebastian dropped his gear and made his way outside. The wood branches were just where he left them last night. Picking up one of the thicker ones, he got out his knife and began whittling it down to match the other legs of the chair. That part didn't take long at all. What would take the most time was creating the glue to hold it together. He threw some bones from the deer into a bucket and began boiling it. Then, he had to let it cool so it would harden into a substance that he could use. That's what took up all of his time. But eventually the glue-substance was ready to use so he poured some over the end of the leg and the bottom of the chair and let it harden a bit before he confidently set the chair down.

"Just don't sit in it until tomorrow and it'll be good as new." he instructed as he wiped down his hands to rid of the remaining glue.

"Thank you, Bash. Here, while you were working I made some meals you could take with you." she handed him some wrapped food in a sack. Upon inspection, he saw some meat, bread, and soup.

"That was kind of you. Thank you, truly."

"My thanks for fixing my chair. Now go while you still have daylight left." Sebastian gathered his weapons and then strapped the food to his back. And then he bid her farewell.

He hadn't thought about where to head to next. You'd figure he'd at least have a sense of direction while he was staying with her, but he didn't. So he just walked. Mostly he followed the stream for a bit, until the stream ended in a large lake. And then his sense of direction was lost. So he just walked. Spain was closest, perhaps it would be best if he went in that direction. Just go wherever his family wasn't. That was the plan.

Nightfall came quickly as it had been these last few days. But at least it wasn't raining. He set up shelter along a tree line and got a fire going so he could enjoy the food he had been graciously gifted. He set his weapons down and then pulled out the food to heat it over the fire. He had a small flask in his carry on he could heat the soup with. Now where was his carry on?

It hit him like a lightening strike. He left his carry on at her place. Along with his flask and all of his gold. Gold that he would need if he was to make it to Spain.

"Damn it!" he cursed. He has to go back for it. But not now. It was too dark and dangerous to be trekking that far away. He'd have to wait until morning.

He ate anyway and then went right to sleep, hoping the time would pass quickly. He was awake just as the sun was rising, and then quickly packed up his belongings and started a quick trot backwards. If he was lucky, he could get back to her place before nightfall and then tread back a bit so not too much time was wasted. He only stopped once to get some water and relieve himself behind a tree, and that was it. With luck, he saw her house just over the horizon with some evening light still guiding him. He ran the rest of the way.

At her door, he knocked hurriedly, but heard nothing inside. He knocked again, thinking maybe she just went to bed early or something, but still no sign of life in the house. He opened the door and entered, calling out his presence to see if she'd answer that. Nothing. He checked her bedroom, she wasn't there.

Her shoes were gone, however. As well as her coat. And his carry on.

"Damn it!!!" he cursed again. She took his gold. For God's sake, she was probably halfway to the nearest town to spend it all! He knew he shouldn't have trusted her! Thieving little-

The door opened, interrupting his moment of rage. In came the woman, wobbling on her feet and an obvious trail of blood pouring down her leg. She spotted him, weakly called out his name, then collapsed to the ground. In a rush, he ran to her and picked her up.

"What happened?!" he asked worriedly.

"You left your carry on......" she had trouble saying. "Was trying to follow you........ give it back."

"Who hurt you? Were you followed?"

"No one.... hurt me...... Fell down a cliff...... cut my leg on something...." she breathed heavily.

Sebastian peeled back the torn fabric of her hunting pants. A hideous gash ran from her ankle to her thigh and was profusely bleeding. There's no telling how much blood she's lost already.

"We need to close the wound. You've lost too much blood to wrap it." he explained as he set her down on the floor in front of the fire place. He hurriedly got a fire going. There was only one way to effectively close a wound of this magnitude -he'd have to burn it. "I have to take your pants off." he said to her, not touching her until she was aware of his actions.

She nodded weakly to him and he carefully removed the garment, careful to not tear her skin any more. He was also careful to conceal her modesty. He took a blanket off of her bed to cover intimate area, only leaving her injured leg exposed. He then pulled out his knife and set the blade on the fire.

"This is going to hurt." he warned. "But it's the only way to stop the bleeding."

"Do it." she instructed with another heavy breath.

Sebastian took the hot blade and positioned it over her leg. He knew this would hurt like hell. He didn't want to hurt her. But he had no choice. While the blade was still heated, he pressed it against the torn skin. She screamed like a banshee, writing on the floor in pain. Sebastian had to hold her down so she didn't accidentally squirm against the knife and cut herself some more.

The burn worked. But it was only a small section of the wound. He'd have to do many rounds before the wound was completely closed. He set his knife back on the fire and then got a bucket of water to clean the blood off of her leg. When the knife heated again, he put it to her leg. She screamed out again. It hurt his ears and his heart. She didn't deserve this pain.

He put the knife on the fire, wiped the blood off her leg, and then put the heated knife onto her wound again. And he repeated this process again, and again, and again. The skin of her leg was so disfigured now.

"Bash!" she cried. "Please! Stop!" tears were streaming down her face as she pleaded with him. She couldn't even look at him as she cried. Sebastian felt his heart ache.

"I'm sorry." he apologized. "But I'm almost done."

"Please..." she cried again.

"I'm sorry." he apologized again, and then put the hot knife to her wound.

He heard her choke on her emotions. He tired to ignore it because he knew he'd stop if he listened to her cry. Only a few more rounds, he thought to himself. It's almost done. He sighed with relief when the final round completely closed the wound.

"I'm done. The bleeding has stopped." he told her.

All she could do was huff in response, and then she passed out. At least the wound was closed now, so he could stop worrying about her bleeding out. He cleaned off the rest of the blood, then picked her up and carried her to her bedroom. He settled her in her bed and covered her up. He couldn't leave her. He'd never forgive himself if he left her and she died. So he stayed, just in case.

He checked on her every hour or so to see if she's either woken up, gotten worse. Thankfully she just slept. He imagined the pain must've been so great that her body just gave out. And then he felt sick to his stomach as he remembered what he thought of her when she wasn't here. She almost died trying to return his belongings and instead he just assumed she was a thief. If anyone here was the enemy, it was him.

She slept soundly throughout the night. He didn't. He wanted to make sure he was alert in case something happened. Thank God too, because she woke in the morning with a small cry. He entered her bedroom to see her inspecting her leg with wet eyes.

"It hurts." she sobbed.

"I know. Your wound will need time to heal. I was more concerned with the blood loss than anything." he told her as he approached her bed. "What happened?" he asked her again, hoping to get some more detail than she provided last night.

"After you left, I saw that you forgot your carry on. I waited to see if you'd notice and turn back, but after a few hours and you didn't, I decided to follow you. The cliff I was walking beside collapsed as a rock dislodged from the edge, and I fell. Something sharp cut my leg on the way down. So I came back."

"You should have stayed here. I would've come back eventually. I need my carry on."

"I know. That's why I tried to follow you. I know who you are, Sebastian de Poitiers." she told him hesitantly and he stiffened. "I saw the King's seal in your bag. You're escaping France because the King wants your head after you reached for the crown."

"I didn't want the crown!" he exclaimed, tired of having to explain himself over and over again. "It wasn't my idea, yet both my father and my brother insist I'll be seen as a threat."

"You are. Half of France wants you dead. Whether you wanted the crown or not."

"Do you want me dead?" he asked her. And he was ashamed to admit he was worried what her answer would be.

"Had it been a few days ago, yes."

"But?"

"You saved my life. If you hadn't been here when I fell, I would be dead by now. You've been nothing but kind to me, despite how harsh I've been at the beginning."

"I suppose finding a strange man, who you just found out is an exiled bastard, in your bed would be threat to anyone."

"Still......" she sighed before continuing. "If you wish to leave, you can. I know you're probably eager to get as far away from France as possible. I didn't take anything from your carry on. All of your gold is still there."

"I'm not worried about the gold. I'm worried about you. The bleeding may have stopped but the wound is too big to not fear infection. I'm not leaving until I know you're alright." he said. He found her grinning up at him with wet eyes.

"Are you that worried about me, Sebastian?" she chuckled at him.

"I admit that when I came back and didn't find you or my carry on here, I thought the worst of you. I called you a thief, not knowing you were bleeding out somewhere in your attempt to return it to me."

"Is your conscious tainted, Sebastian?" she laughed at him.

"This is not a matter of laughter. You could've died and all I did was insult your character."

"I take no offense. Had I been in your position, I would've thought the same thing."

"Is there anything I can do for you?" Sebastian swallowed, not wanting to talk about his transgressions any more.

"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to wash up. I'm still covered in blood."

"I tried to wash off what I could without undressing you."

"Thank you. I can take care of myself from here. Really, you can go. You've done enough for me and you needn't worry yourself." she attempted to console him.

If he hadn't witnessed her knocking on death's door not too long ago, he would've believed her. But he couldn't bring himself to abandon her just yet. And when he watched her try to get to her feet, only to fall to the ground with a cry, he knew he wasn't going anywhere.

"Careful!" he warned. "I've got you." he picked her up and set her on her bed, careful to not jostle her leg in any way. Which was no easy feat. "I'll heat up the water for a bath. You relax, alright? I'll come get you when it's ready." he told her and she agreed.

He left her in her bed to go grab the water bucket outside. He'd use the water from the stream, he decided. First, he got a fire going, and then set off to fill the bucket and place it on the fire. He tried to work quickly as he walked to and from the stream so the water in the tub didn't get cold. After several rounds, the tub was filled enough for a proper bath, and he got her just as he promised. He carefully carried her to the bathing room.

"Thank you, Sebastian. I've got it from here."

"I can help."

"I'd rather you not see me naked, no offense." she laughed at him. And he couldn't help but chuckle back.

"Of course. Here." he set her on her feet, leaning against the tub for stability. "I'll be in the other room if you need me."

"Wait-" she stopped him in his tracks. "We're going to need some more food. If you wouldn't mind......"

"No, of course not. I'd be happy to go hunting. I promise I won't be long."

"Don't rush. I'll be here."

He allowed her the privacy to disrobe and get into the bath, and then went off hunting for some food for the two of them. Another deer should suffice for the time being. And deer were aplenty in this neck of the woods. A fat buck would be quite the prize. So he went searching for one. Unfortunately it took a bit longer than he anticipated before he was successful in capturing one. He wanted to rush back to the house in case she needed his help. He set the buck outside and then went right to the bathing room. He knocked first, and only entered with her permission. She was still in the tub, but a towel was held against her chest to conceal herself.

"I can't get out." she admitted shamefully. "My leg. It hurts too much to move it."

"You'll be in pain for at least a few days. The wound was quite big. And the burns to close it did a lot of damage to your skin." he explained and then carefully wrapped his arms around her to lift her out of the tub. She used the towel to cover the rest of her body as he carried her back to her bed.

"I'm sorry you're having to take care of me like this." she murmured once she was placed back on her bed.

"It's no trouble. My own negligence is the reason you got hurt to begin with."

"It's not your fault. I could've fallen down that cliff any other day for any other reason. It's pure coincidence that I was following you at the time. But let's not talk about it anymore. There's no reason to. What's done is done. Did you go hunting?" she changed the subject.

"Yes, I caught a buck. As long as you're alright, I'll go prepare it."

"I'll be fine. But, if you again wouldn't mind, could you grab me a gown from my armoire?" she pointed to the furniture on the opposite end of the room. Sebastian nodded and did so. She told him any random one would do, so he grabbed something he deemed would be most comfortable for her, then handed it to her.

He left her in her bedroom to dress and went outside to start skinning the deer. While he worked, he kept an ear out for her in case she needed him. He wasn't sure if her silence was comforting or terrifying. He worried to himself what he would do if her wound became infected. He was no medicine man. He didn't have the knowledge Nostradamus did. If she fell ill, it would more than likely be the end for her. He wanted her to just sit where she was and let him do the work. But she was stubborn, he could tell. She was very matter-of-fact. He knew he'd have to treat her like a baby if he wanted peace of mind.

When the deer was skinned, he got a fire going to put it on a spit. When that was settled, he went back inside to check on her. She was on her bed reading a book.

"Need anything?" he questioned her. She looked up from her book and shook her head.

"No. Although....."

"Yes?" he urged.

"I'm bored. Come," she patted the bed beside her. "sit with me. Talk with me."

"About?" he grinned at her, but sat with her anyway.

"Anything. You know, I don't know much about you other than your name and that you're the King's bastard."

"Well, there's not much to know about me. When you're a bastard, no one really gives you a second look anyway, so what's the point in impressing anyone?"

"I know that's not true, Sebastian. And I'd argue the opposite, actually."

"Oh really? Care to enlighten me then?"

"Well, I can't say I know much about royal life, but when you're given a set of expectations to live by, you're stuck. You're forced to live a certain way that's 'appropriate' as deemed by others. But when you're a bastard, you're free. You have no restraints or rules holding you back. You can be whoever you want. So tell me, Sebastian de Poitiers, who are you?"

A glimmer in her eye drew Sebastian in. Her irises were vibrant and penetrating, looking directly into his soul. He got a bit tongue-tied. Not many asked deeply about him. He had to think about his answer for a moment. Who was he?

"Well......" he hummed. "Being stuck inside aggravates me. I hate politics. I hate rules. I hate being the court jester that everyone likes to laugh at because he's nothing more than the King's bastard."

"I wouldn't laugh at you."

"You'd be the first. Even my own brother has laughed at me at some point."

"He's your brother, Sebastian!" she chuckled. "I've laughed at my siblings before. They've laughed at me. That's what siblings do."

"Have you ever been called less-than by you siblings?"

"Your brother said that to you?" her voice held pity in it. Sebastian hated it. "You saved my life. In my eyes, you're twice the man your brother is. Crown or no Crown."

"Thank you. If only others saw me that way."

"Who gives a damn about others?! You think I live all the way out here because I care about what others think? When you focus too much about what others think of you, you lose sense of yourself. You become something you're not. If you could do anything, anything at all, with no consequences, no one to laugh at you, no one to judge you, what would you do?"

"I'd ride along the countryside. I'd visit every village. Try food I've never eaten before. Maybe learn a new language."

"And why's that, Sebastian?"

"I like to ride. I like to be in the open air. I like to learn and do new things. I suppose trying to be the best at everything was always my way of trying to measure up to my brother who would inherit the country."

"Do you at least like what you do? My father always told me if you can't be proud of what you accomplish, then it was all for nothing."

"I love it. When I make something, it's like I'm leaving behind my own legacy. When I learn something, I know it can't be taken away all because I don't have the right blood in my veins. I get to be in my own world where no one can bother me. Where I am the king." Sebastian described, starting to get lost in his happy thoughts. He missed the way she leaned into him. It was her palm resting atop of his hand that drew his attention back to her. "What would you do?"

"I'm already doing it." she laughed. "I'm self-sufficient. I don't have to rely on anyone else to get what I want. I grew up with all the skills I'd ever need in my life: cooking, cleaning, farming, motherhood. I even learned blacksmithing."

"Blacksmithing?" Sebastian asked incredulously.

"Yes, blacksmithing. My father learned from his father, who was a blacksmith in Marseille for several years."

"Marseille? On the complete other side of France?"

"It's where my family is from."

"So how did you end up all the way over here?"

"My grand-father got tired of all the restrictions he had to endure while under rule of the King. He wasn't making any money on his crafts because the King taxed him so high. He couldn't afford to feed his family. So he packed up his wife and son -my father- and moved to the middle of nowhere. They all learned how to grow their own food, my grand-mother made every piece of clothing they wore, my father was responsible for harvesting eggs every morning from the chickens they had. My father hated it. He rebelled against it and vowed to return to the city and rejoin society. He was gone for a few years, and then one day came back home with a pregnant wife in tow. And that's how I ended up here." she explained like it was no big deal.

"And you never thought about doing what your father did?"

"Not once. My father raised me and my siblings with the value of family. I grew up being taught that you can go anywhere, do anything you want, but in the end your family will always be there for you. So why run away from them?"

"And yet I noticed you don't have a husband or any children running around." he observed. He didn't intend for it to be harsh, he even followed it up with a short chuckle to show he was only being funny, but she sighed regardless.

"I thought about it. Let's just say I haven't had much lucking finding a husband who..... agrees.... with my choice of living."

"And your brothers?"

"My youngest brother died from influenza when he was young. It broke my family, but my eldest brother hurt the most. He got angry. Yelled at my parents how it was all their fault, that if they lived close enough to a doctor then my brother would still be alive. He told my parents that they were the worst parents one could have, and then ran off back to the nearest town. He never came back. I have no idea where he is anymore. For all I know, he's dead too. So it's just me."

"At least you had a family that cared. My father never really cared much about my wellbeing, because it wasn't me who would inherit the throne. Having the freedom to do as I pleased also came with the consequence of not being missed if something were to happen to me. My mother only saw me as her connection to her lavish lifestyle. Being the King's mistress who bore his child kept her in French Court with free access to its riches. Without me tying her there, she would've been cast aside for another woman. That's the only reason she ever cared for my wellbeing."

"Well, if no one else cares about you, then I do. I care for your wellbeing, Sebastian de Poitiers."

"You barely know me." he countered, unbelieving of her words.

"I believe you've told me things about you you've never told anyone else. I think that constitutes as knowing you well enough to care."

The hand atop of his turned his palm up so she could lace her fingers with his. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze. He squeezed back, appreciative of her kind nature. She looked to him, and he noticed for the first time that her eyes changed color in the light. There were specks of rainbow mixed in with her irises.

"I should go check on the deer." he muttered and then let her go, quickly exiting the bedroom.

His heart was beating rapidly and he didn't know why. She made him feel things -emotions he doesn't think he's ever felt before. It had to be witchcraft the way she manipulates him. Even as he kept watch on the deer, his mind was filled with images of her. Her words burned him like the knife he used on her wound.

He shuddered as he remembered hearing her screams of pain. It hurt him knowing he was the cause of her pain. But it was for the greater good, he kept telling himself. She would've died if he hadn't done what he did. She's forgiven him for it. Yet it still hurt.

He knows he shouldn't care that much about it. She didn't mean much -if anything- to him. All she did was not slit his throat when she found him sleeping in her bed. That was as far as their friendship extended.

"Sebastian." her voice pulled him from his thoughts. She was leaning against the doorway, injured leg hiked off the ground, and a pained scowl on her face. He rushed to her.

"What are you doing? I told you to sit tight and I'll get dinner ready!"

"Here." she handed him a bowl of..... liquid. Butter? "Rub it on the deer as it finishes cooking. It'll crisp up the skin."

"You risked opening up your wound just to hand me a bowl of butter?" he questioned her.

"And to give you this." she handed him some wine. "You've been staring at that fire for at least an hour. Sit down, will you? The deer won't be finished for awhile. You'll collapse if you continue standing in the heat."

"I'll be just fine. You, on the other hand, need to go sit down before your wound opens back up and gets infected."

"My leg will be fine if you come with me. So come with me."

"I'll be back inside in a little while."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

He didn't go back inside. Not until the sun started its descent down the sky and the deer had finished cooking. He made sure to coat the thing with the butter concoction she created. It sizzled on the deer as he spread it over the meat. And, as she said, it crisped up nicely. He extinguished the fire and took the deer off the spit, laying it on a table and butchering it up to eat.

Dinner was awkward. He couldn't find the strength to look at her -fearful of what emotions might bubble up inside him if he saw her caring eyes. She talked to him, though. She talked a lot. She wasn't stupid in the slightest, so he knew she was well aware that he wasn't engaging in conversation like he has been. She pressured him, tried to dig into why he was acting so.

"Just a little worn from the day's events." he made the excuse. She didn't buy it. He could see that clearly.

"You've been worried about me. You deserve some rest. Go. I'll clean up."

"No, you relax, I'll clean."

She went to protest but he silenced her before she could. He cleaned up, and she pouted like a child from her chair. When he was done, he carried her back to her bed so she could get comfortable for the night. He handed her back the book she was reading earlier, and as he was beginning to give her some privacy, she read aloud to him, stopping him in his tracks and capturing his attention. He sat on her floor, listening to her read from the wisdom of Francesco Petrarca and his love and loss.

He liked the way she spoke. He liked the way she poured her passion into the words she was reading. She brought the poems to life, and he found himself resonating with them in a way he probably shouldn't.

"I have offered you my heart a thousand times / O my sweet warrior, only to make peace / with your lovely eyes: but it does not please you / with your noble mind, to stoop so low." she read to him. "And if some other lady has hope of it, / she lives in powerless, deceiving hope: / and it can never be what it was to me, / since I too disdain what does not please you." the poem continued on. Sebastian swallowed a lump in his throat. "Now if I banish it, and it does not find in you / any aid in its unhappy exile, nor knows / how to be alone, nor to go where others call to it, / it might stray from its natural course: / which would be a grave crime for both of us, / and more for you, since it loves you more."

Sebastian excused himself at that, claiming he was tired and would head to bed. But, really, he feared hearing another word from her mouth. That damned poetry book made it difficult to keep his mind clear. He needed to get away from it. But he didn't go to sleep. No, he stayed awake in case she needed him. And when the moon was high in the sky, and he yawned too deep that his lungs burned, he cracked open her bedroom door to see her peacefully sleeping -the poetry book fallen to the floor. He picked it up, closed its pages, and set it on a table. He then tucked the blankets around her to keep her warm, and exited her bedroom.

The next day, Sebastian busied himself with work around her house. He told her he could fix some of the other flaw she complained about. Truth be told, he just didn't want to look at her and he didn't know why. So he would go off to the oak trees, chop down some branches, drag them back to her home, and patch up the flaws. Small flaws likes cracks in the walls were very easily remedied. Some animal glue in the crack, a little bit of wood shavings shoved inside, some more glue on top, and the crack was like it was never even there.

Bigger flaws like the crooked windows would need to be completely removed and renovated. Thankfully the glass itself was still intact, so he carefully removed each window so he could get to the crooked frames. The house had tilted a tad somehow. With a building as old as this, it was bound to happen eventually as the weather wore it down. Unless Sebastian was willing to tear the whole house and and rebuild it straight up, he would have to get creative.

His creativity bore the idea of thickening the frame itself so it would appear to be straight when it really wasn't. It was easier said than done, however, and he spent the entire sunlight hours working only to fix two of the eight windows in her home.

After dinner, he carried her back to bed again like he did the previous night. And she read some more to him like she did before. And he listened to her speak, watching the way her lips moved over the words. It hypnotized him. And then he'd snap himself out of it and excuse himself out so he could clear his head. Still, he didn't sleep. At least he thinks he didn't.

His memory of the last hour or so was gone. He only came back to the present when he heard her wail out from her bedroom. He rushed in to see her awake in bed, crying, and holding her injured leg.

"Sebastian! It hurts! Oh god, it hurts!"

He rushed to her side, lifting her nightgown to inspect the injury. He brought a candle close and poked at her leg. She cried some more.

"It's not infected." he sighed with relief. "The burns are starting to heal. That's what's causing you pain."

"Make it stop. Please." she begged of him, and his heart clenched.

Sebastian grabbed a small pail of water and a rag, bringing them back to her bedroom. He soaked the rag in the bucket, squeezed out some of the excess water, then carefully placed the rag on her thigh to cover the burns. He grabbed a second rag and did the same thing to her calf burns.

"The water will help loosen the skin, which should stop the pain for awhile. It's not going to speed up the healing process, but at least the pain will subside to something more tolerable." he explained.

She allowed him to do with her as he pleased. She tried to be strong, he noticed. She quieted down, choked on her sobs, gave off the illusion that her body wasn't tingling with fire. After several minutes, she seemed to be a lot calmer. And she was able to lay back down. Sebastian resoaked the rags and placed them back on her leg. And then she fell back asleep.

Sleep. That sounded nice. Sebastian could really use some sleep. But he can't. He had to stay awake in case she needed him. It wasn't an infection this time, but there's no promise of what it could be next time. He needed to cut off any threats before they began. Stop an infection the second it showed its ugly face. Or else she'd die.

He slumped against her bed, hanging his head from his shoulders and fighting with his eyelids to stay open. But his body gave out to the comfort of long-awaited sleep. He slept soundlessly, dreamlessly. It was comforting to finally sleep. And the warmth against his cheek provided safety to him. The warmth soothed up along his cheek and into his hair. A short tug against his scalp pulled him from the calming sleep.

He hummed, and his scalp received another soft tug. Then fingers dances back against his cheek.

"Sebastian...." a voice murmured beside his ear. "Sebastian."

"Hmmm?" he opened his bleary eyes and saw her face dangling beside him.

"You can't sleep on the floor like that." she whispered to him.

"I wasn't sleeping." he slurred.

"You haven't slept in days. You're wearing yourself out taking care of me. Sleep, Sebastian."

"I'm fine....."

"Come here." he heard her say, and her hand was gone from his face. He turned to her to see her scoot back in her bed and pull back the covers. She patted the spot beside her.

"No, I'm alright. I promise."

"Stay with me, Sebastian. Come get some sleep. It'll be alright."

He wanted to argue but, truthfully, he just didn't have the strength to do it. Even as he stood from the ground to crawl in beside her, his limbs felt heavy. But he got in and rest his head on her pillow. If it weren't for the surprise feel of her arms pulling him in, he would've fallen asleep immediately. But he felt her arms around him, and her fingers tugged at his hair once more, and then he was gone.

He woke again this time to the sun shining in his eyes. He buried his face to block it out. He wasn't ready to wake up yet. The bed was so warm, and the pillow was so soft. The pressure surrounding his body was comforting, and the soft scent of something lulled him. There was a beating rhythm in his ear that he tried to block out for awhile, but then he realized it was a steady beat of a heart. When he heard a soft sigh above him, he realized his situation.

Carefully, he lifted his head. The softness that he felt wasn't a pillow, it was her chest. And the pressure on his body was her arms loosely holding him to her. He looked up at her face, worried that she would be angry at how intimate they had gotten. But she was fast asleep -not a single care in the world.

He had to get out of her bed before she woke. It would not end well if she found him pressed against her like this. Sebastian tried to peel her arms off of him, but the movement caught her attention and she sighed once more, this time squirming against him as she slowly joined the waking world.

"Sebastian?" she asked groggily.

"I'm sorry." he quickly apologized. "I didn't intend to invade your personal space like this."

"Hm?" she wondered, then looked down at how they were laying. "Oh. Don't worry about it. You fell asleep like this last night."

"It's inappropriate of me."

"You think I'm worried about propriety? Sebastian, I was the one who asked you to get into bed with me. You've been running yourself ragged these past few days. I appreciate your attentiveness, but I'm not worth losing sleep over. You were exhausted."

"Still, I should not have touched you so intimately." he defended, and then got out of the bed. She laid still, looking up at him with innocent eyes. They pleaded with him. There was meaning in the way she batted her eyelashes at him.

"Stay, Sebastian." she softly begged. "Lay with me. Rest your head."

"I should finish your windows while I have daylight. If I work quickly, I should be able to get most of them done today." he rushed out, then excused himself from her bedroom.

He did as promised and went right to work on her windows. He had to keep his mind occupied or else his thoughts would roam to her. He tried not to think about her heartbeat against his ear, or the softness of her breasts on his cheek, or the way she held him as he slept.

He accidentally hammers his finger, causing him to curse and drop his tools. She hobbled through the house to stick her head out of the open window he was working at.

"Are you alright?" she asked worriedly.

"Just fine." he gritted, shaking his injured finger. She chuckled.

"Don't overwork yourself, Sebastian. Please. For my sake, will you take a rest?"

"I can't rest until I make this house safe for you."

"Safe for me? Sebastian de Poitiers, my safety is not your responsibility. Besides, I've lived in this house all my life and I've never gotten hurt from a missing window." she chuckled again.

"For as long as you are recovering from your injury, I will ensure that you don't have to worry about tasks like these."

"Come down from there, Sebastian. Come eat while the food is still hot. If you're so inclined to fix my house, you can do so after you've filled your stomach with sustenance."

"You should be in bed, resting, not cooking me food."

"You've done enough cooking for the both of us to last a lifetime. Let me take care of some things. Take the stress off of you. At least for a little while." she begged of him.

"You moving about has me stressed more than the task of cooking. Please, sit. Your wound-"

"Could reopen and get infected, I know." she waved him off. "Stop with that excuse. I am being careful, but my life can't be put on hold all because my leg hurts."

Sebastian sighed and looked to the ground. She reached a hand out through the opening and caressed his cheek, forcing his gaze to her. She offered a soft smile to him, and his heart fluttered.

"Come inside. Please. For my sake. Ease my conscience."

"After this window."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

She rubbed her thumb over his lips soothingly, but left him at that. He licked at his lips once she was out of sight, trying to taste her comfort, and he stuttered on his breath. He went back to hammering at the window frame. It fit nicely in the snug, lopsided hole of the house. When the frame was nailed into place and sanded down, he carefully put the glass in the hole and let it snap into its track. Then he went inside as he promised and sat at the table. She was there, waiting for him to join her. Only when he sat down did she begin to eat. She waited for me.

That night, she coaxed him back into bed with her.

"If I have to beg you one more time, I will slap you. Rest. You've done all you can for me. My leg is healing. You needn't worry so much."

"You're not out of danger just yet."

"Yes I am. I've successfully gotten through the critical stage of the healing process. My chance of infection have gone down tremendously. So, please, lay with me and for once just forget about your conscience."

She pulled at his hand until he got into bed beside her. She threw the covers over the both of them until they were snug up against each other. Like the night before, she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into her body. With a swallow, Sebastian let his head rest against her chest. Her heartbeat was steady. It softly pounded against his ears, lulling him into a sense of calmness. Her fingers scratched at his scalp and softly tugged on his hair. He sighed into her skin. And then she pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

"Thank you for taking care of me these past few days. Let me take care of you for a change." she whispered to him and then squeezed his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around her waist in response.

Truthfully, it was nice to be able to fall asleep like this -knowing she was alright and that he wasn't having to stress over this or that in order to keep her healthy. He enjoyed the time to just relax and ease into a deep sleep. It was nice. Even the dreams he had of her were nice: injury-free, care-free, just living her life. And it was a wonderful life too. She said she never found an agreeable husband, yet he imagined her with one. A faceless man that was just as wild and stubborn as she, who liked adventures and learning new things.

Again, he woke to the sun in his eyes. Maybe he should make her some curtains. Or maybe not, considering she was still asleep when he opened his eyes. The sun didn't seem to bother her one bit. The lights' rays turned her skin into a golden hue that shimmered. He ran his fingers through her hair as her head rest on his chest. The arm across his stomach twitched but otherwise remained in place. She was warm against him. He pulled her closer, if that was even possible.

"Sebastian?" she stirred and then rubbed the sleep from her eyes.

"Sorry, didn't intend to wake you."

"Going to go finish up the windows, I presume?" she deadpanned, already one step ahead of his mind.

"I should." he replied, not really intending on moving.

"Please don't. The windows can wait. Stay with me?" she softly pleaded to him.

She brought a hand up to his cheek, scratched at his beard, tried to coax his head down to hers. By God, he couldn't stand the way she looked at him anymore. He was beginning to hate it -hate how he couldn't keep his heartbeat under control when she looked at him like that, hate how she was so kind and gentle to him, hate how she was putting him above herself even though it was his fault she was even hurt. He hated it. And he hated how she pulled his head down to hers. He hated how he chanced a glance at her lips, wondering what they tasted like. He hated the feel of her body pressing up against his own.

Most of all, he hated how he pulled away from it and got out of bed.

"I only have a couple windows left. After that, I'll be done." he tried his best not to stutter.

"Done with the home improvements, or done here?" she questioned him, a hint of a quiver in her voice.

"I suppose both." he answered immediately.

"Okay." she said after a beat of silence.

"Okay?"

Okay. You were on a journey of your own you're probably eager to get back to. So, go on. Do what you have to do." she urged him and then sighed. He sighed as well, but left the bedroom anyway.

There were only two windows left to fix. If he hurried, he'd be done before midday, leaving the rest of the daylight to travel on. So he slowly went outside, slowly carved out the wooden frame, slowly sanded it down, and slowly nailed it into place. As he worked outside, he saw her going about the house. She was walking better now, albeit with a limp. But at least she wasn't tripping over her weight anymore.

He watched her cook through the window. He knew she knew he was there, watching, but she didn't look at him. In fact, it was obvious she was intentionally avoiding his gaze. He hurt her somehow, and that hurt himself. But they both knew he wouldn't be here forever. He had only come back for his carry on -which he made a mental note of double checking he had before he left. It was purely situational that she had gotten hurt and needed help.

But she was right. She had gotten through the critical period of the healing process. Her wound was well on its way to healing. Risk of infection was minimal now. She didn't have any more need for him here. He's been enough of a burden and it was time to move on.

She eventually called him in for lunch. It was silent between the two of them. Still, she didn't look at him. It was like her food was the most fascinating thing in all of France -it held all of her attention. When they were both finished eating, she was quick to get up and start cleaning. He got back to the last window.

The last thing he needed to do.

And then he would be off.

This last window seemed to be a lot more difficult than the others. Sebastian was having trouble matching the tilt in the frame. Every time he shoved the wooden pieces into the hole and fit the glass, the dimensions ended up being off by a little and the window wouldn't fit. So he'd have to take it all down, reshape and resand the frame, then try again. At some point, he completely butchered the frame he was working on. It splintered in his hands as he was carving it. He had accidentally gone with the grain and snapped the whole thing in half, forcing him to carve out another frame from scratch.

He was tired. So tired. Just mentally exhausted at this point. A sense of...... something..... filled him as he put the glass in its track and it slid in easily. He spotted her watching him from inside the house. Her face was solemn, and then she turned her back on him.

He sighed as he put away the tools he had borrowed from her. Stepping back inside the house was tough. The air was stiff and dense.

"Here. I've already gathered your things." she said and handed him his weapons and carry on. "I've also prepared food for you." she then handed him a sack that was still warm with fresh-baked goods.

"Thank you." Sebastian muttered. "I should get going while I still have time." he began to back up towards the door. She followed him out.

"Where will you be going? Will you tell me that at least?"

"Probably Spain. It would be my best bet to stay safe."

"To Spain then."

"To Spain......"

Yet he didn't move. They both turned to the horizon where the sky had become an orange glow. There was a certain chill in the air that he didn't particularly like. Her cold shoulder didn't aid in his comfort in any way.

"It'll be dark soon." she noted. "Stay for the night, Sebastian. There's no point in traveling at this hour. It's too dangerous."

"I still have daylight left." he lazily argued back.

"Not enough to make it very far. Just one more night. Please?"

She brought a hand up to his cheek again and drew his attention to her. Worry set itself in her features. Worry and a hint of something else. Fear? Fear of what?

"I've burdened you long enough."

"You're not a burden, Sebastian. None at all. Don't ever think that you are."

She stepped into his space. The hand on his cheek rubbed against his skin. Her other arm came to loosely wrap around his shoulders and hold him. She painfully grinned up at him.

"I've loved having you around. It was nice having someone to talk to. You're kind and comforting. You've done more for me than anyone ever has."

"I haven't done anything worth-" he began to say but she cut him off.

"You saved my life. I'm forever in your debt. Please stay, Sebastian. Please. I would never force you to, but you can stay here as long as you'd like. You'd never be found out. No one ever travels this way. You'd be safe. And you wouldn't have to leave France." she said in a rush. Strings of tears started to fall down her face. Seeing this wave of emotion come from her had him all choked up. He feared he would also begin to cry. "Please don't go. I beg of you."

In a sudden flash, she pulled him in and pressed her lips against his. He offered no resistance. He didn't fight back. There was no hesitation from him. He kissed her as harshly as she did him. Her tongue in his mouth had him simultaneously groaning against her and wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her body to his. Her fingers threaded themselves into his hair.

"Say you'll stay. Here. With me." she murmured in between kisses. He didn't respond verbally to her. Instead, he kissed her again, lifted her by her waist, and then carried her back inside.

Sebastian finally realized why his heart reacted so aggressively towards her: he loved her. He loved the way she looked at him. He loved how she pulled his head down to hers and wrapped herself around his body. He loved how her lips tasted against his own. He loved the feel of her body pressing up against him. He loved her.

There was no coincidence that he stumbled upon this house while he was traveling. There was no coincidence that she still lived in it. There was no coincidence she was kind enough to not kill him despite having every reason to. There was no coincidence he forgot his carry on and had to come all the way back. And there was no coincidence she got hurt and needed him to stay longer than he intended. It was all meant to bring her to him. Sebastian is many things, but dim is not one of them. He knew the signs, he saw them well, and he'd be a fool to ignore them.

He loved her.

He'll stay with her.

#reign #sebastian de poitiers #bash de poitiers #sebastian bash de poitiers #original female character #ofc #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #slow burn #took way too long to write

29 notes · View notes