A/N: For the anon who so sweetly asked for an immediate followup to the end of Inquisition. Heavy duty spoilers for the latest episode of Reign, don't say I didn't warn you!

They don't tell you fear is white. They don't tell you that when you walk into a room full of shouting and see the love of your life draped over the side of a tub shaking and coughing, when you see your worst enemy on the floor with a knife, that all you can see and feel is just...white. Void. Like your heart has vacated your body by way of your stomach, and your blood has been replaced with panic. They tell you that anger is red, they tell you that red at the corners of your vision is just the rage taking over. They never tell you that fear is white, fear is all consuming, and fear is nowhere near as easy to shake off than rage.

Bash had barely stepped into the room when he felt that fear take over, in a way he'd never felt before. He'd been scared almost his whole life; he was very familiar with anxiety and with dread. But this, this went beyond that. This wasn't fear for his station, or for his mother, or for his own life. This was terror. He could deal with bleeding out on a physician's couch. He could deal with the idea that he might never see his home or his brothers or his father again. He couldn't deal with the idea of Mary's death. So he moved. He was running towards her before his mind caught up with his legs, ignoring the guards who warned him against poison. If there was poison in the room, Mary had already inhaled it. And he'd rather breathe it all in than let a single more vapor enter her lungs. He reached her side in seconds, grabbing a towel and glad that all the guards had averted their eyes without a warning or a glare. Bash had barely reached into the tub, and he was already begging her to tell him what happened, his voice gentle and soothing and shaking with worry.

"Catherine tried to kill me," she gasped, wrapping her arm weakly around his neck as he hauled her out of the tub.

She was soaking wet and shivering in his arms, and could barely hold her own weight up. Bash immediately slid his arm underneath her knees, cradling her against him before turning, keeping her body away from the guards and wrapping her up in the towel. He was drenched with water from her body, his tunic sticking to his chest, but he kept Mary against him anyway, one arm wrapped protectively around her body and the other one cradling the back of her neck. The fear still hadn't faded when her words finally sunk in, and he hissed and spat at Catherine so violently that he could have sworn that his very words were colored red. He ordered her chained up, he called her an animal, and he couldn't find it in him to be sorry for any of it. The next few seconds passed in a blur, with Catherine screaming at Mary and Mary shaking violently against him as he held her tightly.

"I know what kind of man he is," Mary said defensively, her voice still raw and a cough cutting off her words, "and I have made the perfect choice. Because together we have killed you," she spat at Catherine, and the guards finally dragged her away.

In any other situation, Bash could have kissed her for defending him, he could have kissed her for her faith in him. As it was, the only thing on his mind was getting her to safety.

"Are you alright?" He asked her gently, panic still clouding his tone as he cradled her head, pressing his lips to her forehead, her hairline, the top of her head, everywhere he could reach to reassure both of them that she was still alive, that he was there, that he wouldn't leave her for anything in the world. Bash felt Mary nod against him, but his hands still moved to her back, to the sides of her arms, patting insistently against the towel to make sure she was whole and safe. "God, Mary, what did she do to you?" He whispered, smoothing his palms over her shoulders and feeling her shaking grow more and more violent with each passing second.

"Poison in the tub," she gasped, her voice thin and raw and strained. "She had a knife at my throat, she was ready to die to kill me, I don't- I don't know, I don't know," Mary managed, her voice breaking and tears popping into the corners of her eyes, ready to spill over at any moment.

Without wasting a second more, Bash swept her back up into his arms, carrying her like a bride, or a child, and took long strides out of the room, to get her away from the tub and the poison and the fear. She tucked her head under his chin as he walked, bouncing slightly in his arms, and one hand slipped out of the confines of the towel to cling to his tunic. Now it was his turn to fight tears as he rushed her back to his rooms, the weight of realization dragging him down by the shoulders and the heart. He'd nearly lost her. She could have died. Had he been seconds later, had the guards not yelled, had the door not been broken down at the exact right moment...she would have been gone. Now it was impossible to tell who was shaking - her, or him. They reached his rooms quickly, and Bash set her gently on the bed, sitting upright and still clawing at his shirt.

"Don't leave me," Mary begged, her eyes wide and her face pale. It broke Bash's heart to see her this way, and he nodded, grabbing her hand and lacing his fingers with hers. His other hand cupped her face, his lips finding her forehead and holding the motion.

"Never," he assured her against her skin, willing her to relax, willing the fear and the horror to leave her body, to leave their surroundings, to leave anything colored by Mary's presence. She didn't deserve this. She didn't deserve this treatment, didn't deserve to have to look over her shoulder with every step she took. For God's sake, they were supposed to be keeping her safe, and she'd been attacked more times since coming to France than she had at that damned convent. She'd lost one of her ladies, one of her friends, and she'd lost love more than any girl deserved to even if she lived to be a hundred. "I'll never leave you, Mary, you have to know that," Bash murmured, dropping his head to rest his forehead against hers, now kneeling in front of her as she sat on his bed, shivering and gasping for air. "I just need to send for some things. I won't leave the room, I swear to you, on my word."

His promise held weight, and Mary nodded slowly, holding onto his hand until the last possible second. He could feel her eyes on him as he crossed back to the door, opening it and barking at one of the guards. As soon as the man came near, he lowered his voice, not wanting to alarm Mary any further. After ordering the guard on his door to be tripled, he asked for a few more things to be sent up, along with a few people, and then withdrew his head, shutting the door behind him. He strode back to Mary quickly, sitting next to her and gathering her into his lap without preamble. Her breathing was still labored, and he rubbed circles into her back through the terrycloth of her towel gently, holding her against his chest and hoping she couldn't feel how fast his heart was beating. "You're safe," he murmured into her hair. "You're safe, I've got you."

Mary nodded against him, one hand resting weakly against his shoulder. "Bash," she started, lifting her head slightly to find his eyes. "What if she's already won?"

He could see the deep rooted fear in her eyes. Could see the realization dawn in her soul just as it began to do the same in his own heart. They had no way of knowing if Mary had already inhaled too much of Catherine's poison. They had no way to know if she was going to make it to morning.

"Bash, what if I'm already dead?"

His grip on her tightened, fingers curling into her arm and her leg so tightly he was sure to leave even faint bruises, but Bash couldn't think of that at the moment. All he could think about was the terror in Mary's eyes, and cling to the knowledge that she wouldn't die. He wouldn't let her. He might not have the power, he might not be able to order the air in Mary's lungs to purify and cleanse itself, but he would be damned if he allowed his queen to die in his arms.

"You're not going to die, Mary," he whispered against her, emotion coloring and clouding his words, cracking them in half.

"If I do-" she started, her voice regaining strength but costing her a cough for it.

"No," he answered, shaking his head. "Don't do that. Don't make me make promises I can't keep. You're not going to die. You won't. You can't. You can't leave me like this, Mary, I love you."

There was a long pause before Mary let her head fall back onto his chest, tucking her forehead against the side of his neck. "I know you do," she whispered softly, and he thought she might be crying again. He held her closer, swallowing around the lump in his throat and casting his gaze up at the ceiling to try and force the tears stinging his eyes back to where they came from. Bash didn't know how long they sat there, how long he counted Mary's breaths and heartbeats and made sure she was still moving and breathing, when there was a knock at the door, and it was opening slowly. He tensed immediately, on guard and worried, but when a blonde head poked through the door, he relaxed.

"Greer," Mary gasped, her eyes wide, and Greer flew through the door, Lola and Kenna following a moment later. Alec trailed behind, checking the hallway and locking the door behind all of them, and looked at Bash before nodding once and taking up station at the entrance to the balcony. Meanwhile, Bash was being swarmed by women who were fussing over the girl in his arms. He was at loathe to let go of her, but Lola placed her hand on his shoulder and gave him a pleading look that would have put the most darling puppies to shame. So he loosened his grip on Mary before standing slowly and carefully, bending to help her regain her footing. Kenna had clothing folded in her hands, Greer had tears in her eyes, and Lola's spine was impossibly straight, carrying the weight of the world and her queen's life on her shoulders. It was jarring, seeing how much they loved Mary, and made him feel inadequate for a moment. But then Greer was grabbing his hand, her eyes big and teary and vulnerable, and Bash froze.

"Thank you, for getting her out of there. And thank you for calling us. I don't know what we would have done if-" she trailed off, and Lola touched the blonde's back gently.

"She's not out of the woods yet," Bash answered, squeezing Greer's hand once before letting go and touching Mary's shoulder. "I'll be on the balcony if you need me," he told her softly, kissing her temple, and she nodded, mouthing a thank you.

Nodding back, he took his leave immediately, heading for Alec and glancing over his shoulder at the girls once. They'd already gotten Mary out of the towel, helping her dry off with one that must have been folded in Kenna's stack, and Lola was holding the old one up to maintain their queen's privacy. Love shone through with every gentle pass of Kenna's hands, with Lola supporting Mary's weight and dignity, with Greer helping her into a nightgown, and Bash felt the lump in his throat get bigger. She couldn't leave them. She wouldn't just be leaving him behind; she'd be leaving her best friends without a word. They'd lost too much already, and with Aylee's death so obviously forefront on their minds, he couldn't imagine them going through it again. Not with Mary.

"What happened?"

Alec's voice drew him away from the scene, and Bash ran both hands over his face in near agony as he had to recount the scene to Alec. He said it in a rush, spitting words out like fire, barely drawing breath until he finished. "She inhaled it," he said worriedly, stepping onto the balcony and leaning against a windowsill. "She could be dying right now and there's nothing I can do about it." He'd never felt more helpless in his life, and he ached to do something. Alec's hand clapped him on the shoulder, a stark contrast to the soft comfort of the women just out of earshot, and he glanced at his bodyguard nervously. "Alec, if she dies, I don't-"

"She won't die," Alec said calmly, and something inside Bash relaxed ever so slightly, like all he'd needed was to hear that out loud. "She's a fighter. She'll be fine." He dropped his hand, unwinding the bandage from it and showing Bash the wound he'd received from Catherine's poison. It was red and angry looking, but the ugly green marks and black veins had all but disappeared. It would be healed within a week at most, and Bash's eyes widened. "Those girls in there are miracle workers with poultices," Alec said, and something dangerously akin to fondness sparked through his eyes. "I'd be willing to bet they've got some sort of magic tea they'll send up for within a few minutes."

"You know Catholics don't believe in magic," Bash started, and Alec smiled.

"Ah, but I do. And I've got belief enough in those girls in there for all of us. Have a little faith, Sebastian. She'll pull through," he assured Bash.

Alec slipped away a moment later, and Bash could hear him speaking with Lola from a distance. The door opened and shut again, but Bash didn't move. He'd stand vigil on the one weak spot in his quarters all night if he had to, as long as it meant Mary would survive the night. Hours passed. The door opened again, and shut once more. Hushed whispers, tea splashing into porcelain, Alec coming out with a cup for Bash and insisting he drink it as well. It was disgusting, but he was assured secondhand that it promoted healing, that it would cleanse his body. He didn't know if he believed it, but if pretending would help, he'd pretend and playact until the sun rose. Alec stood vigil with him, his body relaxed and steady as opposed to Bash, who was nearly vibrating out of his own skin with nerves.

The sun was just starting to rise when he heard footsteps near him, and a knock on one of the balcony pillars. When he turned, his eyes sleepy and his posture sagging with exhaustion and worry, he saw Lola and nearly felt his heart stop beating. "Is she alright?" He asked worriedly, taking a step forward.

That's when he saw her smile, and the weight of the world fell off his back.

"She's asking for you," Lola said simply, nodding and touching his arm as he passed. "Bash," she said quietly, and Bash stopped, looking back down at the girl next to him. Images of her taking care of him when he'd been near death just a few months prior came to him immediately. That felt like a lifetime ago. They'd both aged about a thousand years since she'd read mythology to him in his haze of pain. "Just...please be careful with her. She's been through a lot."

"She's been through too much," Bash agreed, running a hand through his hair and mussing it in all directions.

Lola studied him for what felt like ages, her eyes boring into his soul, and then nodded again, a small smile touching her lips. He couldn't help but feel like he'd just passed some sort of unspoken test that the girls had posed to him. Lola released his arm and headed back onto the balcony, and he finally noticed the cup of tea in her hand, right before she was offering it to Alec. Turning back towards his room, Bash headed in slowly, fixing his hair in vain as he went. Kenna and Greer were laying in his bed with Mary between them, covers pulled up to their necks and bodies huddled close together. They were whispering, and Mary's eyes were heavy with sleep, her hair tangled, but her color was back, and when Kenna whispered something in her ear, she laughed. Bash had never heard anything more wonderful in his life.

"Ahh, Prince Charming!" Kenna called, laughing. She'd seen him first. "We're sorry for commandeering your bed, but you can't really expect us ladies to sleep on that sorry excuse of a couch, now can you?"

"Kenna!" Greer hissed, scandalized but clearly holding back a laugh.

Mary didn't bother; her head fell back as she laughed unrestrained, her body nearly squirming as she giggled between two of her best friends. It wasn't the laugh of a delicate noblewoman, it wasn't the laugh of a queen. It was the laugh of a girl who was happy to be alive, and Bash was happy to hear it. So he bowed, enjoying the joke, and assured the girls it was no trouble at all.

"After all, it's certainly not the first time I've had multiple women in my bed," he teased. He earned a pillow thrown at his face for his snark, and he ducked with a laugh.

"Sebastian, don't be cheeky," Mary laughed, sitting up and stretching her hands over her head, taking the blanket with her and drawing groans from Greer and Kenna, who tried to pull it back down to where they were laying. "Oh calm down, I'm just trying to get out," she giggled, crawling over Greer and then tucking both of the girls in gently before she pulled a robe on from where it was laying over a chair. He wasn't entirely sure who it belonged to - Lola, Kenna, Greer, Mary, or even himself - but she wrapped herself up anyway and reached for his hand as she walked. Bash took it immediately, letting her lead him out onto the balcony, where Alec and Lola were speaking in quiet tones. As soon as Lola saw Mary, though, she smiled and crossed to hug her queen quickly before returning to the warmth of Bash's chambers, Alec following a few moments later and leaving Bash and Mary alone. "I just wanted to say thank you," Mary finally said, turning to him and resting her hands comfortably on his chest. She'd done that less than twenty four hours ago, and yet it still seemed like it had happened to someone else, in a different lifetime.

"Mary," he started, clearly unsure he deserved any sort of thanks, but she cut him off with a single tilt of her head. She was good at that regal look that had a way of making a bastard silent.

"You saved me," she said seriously, and it was clear neither one of them was taking this lightly. Something flashed in her eyes for a moment, but whether it was remembrance or fear or anything else, he wasn't too sure. "But more than that, I don't think I'll ever be able to thank you for everything you've done since I landed you in this mess." Her hand came up to cup his cheek, a fond smile on her lips.

"I'm just glad you're safe," Bash said simply, earnestly, his hands on her waist, and Mary nodded. Pressing his lips to the top of her head, and then leaning down quickly on impulse to slant his lips over hers, he kissed her quickly and gently before pulling back, smiling softly at her. "I need to speak with my father. I'll have a cook send up some breakfast for you and your ladies," he promised, his hand drifting to her lower back to guide her back to her friends.

"I'll see you later?" She asked, and he wondered if he was imagining the hope in her voice.

"Of course," Bash said, inclining his head before giving Alec strict instructions to keep watch. With one last bow to the ladies and another quick kiss from Mary - that had Kenna catcalling at both of them - he was gone, his body nearly sagging in the hallway with the lack of sleep and the sheer relief that Mary would be alright.