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The fact is, Bash doesn’t enjoy when his father uses him. The King knows that Bash can really convince Francis of anything and often uses this. Whether its affairs of the state, or just Francis misbehaving, the King can always rely on Bash to save the day. And yet, Bash is never really considered the savior is he?
The day after his father returned from Lorraine and the castle was seized by the Italians, a page is sent to use Bash yet again.
“Excuse me, your grace?” Bash turns to see a timid looking page standing before him. He rolls his eyes. The only times a page is sent for Bash is when his father needs him. He can't waste time finding his son, after all. If his mother wants him, she finds him herself, not trusting the pages Catherine controls. When Francis wants him, he is kind enough to find him himself, not send for a servant.
“That’s very kind, but I am not a ‘your grace.”
“My apologies,” the page says, ears turning red. “His highness is looking for you.”
“But he is in a counsel meeting.” Bash is confused. The King never involves him with mattters of state and never bothers with him on days where he is busy. There's no need to talk to a bastard when you have much more important things to be doing.
“Begging your pardon sir, but the meeting is over and he seems to be angry," the page says, looking slightly afraid.
"How angry exactly?"
"He sent the Lady Diane away when she tried to comfort him and is now perusing the maps of England," answers the page, confirming Bash's fears. When his father is marginally angry, he doesn't do much to show it. A king must keep his head, even in his own castle. When he furious, he sends everyone away and tries to come up with strategies to take over England. Interesting that that is what calms his father down. Says a lot about the type of man he is.
“Dear lord, what have I done now?” asks Bash and the page grimaces.
“It’s not you, sir. It’s your brother, the dauphin,” the young boy answers, avoiding Bash's gaze. Bash is shocked. While it isn't a secret that Bash is Henry's favorite son, Francis rarely puts the King in a rage like he seems to be now. Francis is a necessity, conceived out of need for an heir, and so he was raised to never disappoint. Francis is used to needing to be exactly what the King wants him to be and he often complies. There are times where Francis challenges their father, but the King seems to be proud of him by the end of it. He says they are the actions of a true king. Whatever that means. Even when Francis disobeys their father in a rather unkingly way, Henry seems to have the power to make Francis guilty about it. Bash has been in the vicinity when he reprimands Francis for such actions. He usually tells Francis the faith he is putting in him and the responsibility he has to France, which always hits Francis hard. Because the King always gets what he wants, Francis apologizes and they go back to their formal, necessary relationship.
So it isn't without reason when Bash asks “Francis?” in disbelief.
“I shall let his highness explain to you,” the page says and Bash nods. “His highness is in the throne room.”
“Thank you…” he trails off, waiting for his name.
“Peter, your—sir,” he says, stumbling over his words.
“Thank you, Peter,” Bash says, nodding shortly and striding off the direction of the throne room.
“Ah, Sebastian,” the King says, without looking up from the table of maps as Bash walks in. His crown is placed perfectly on his head, his head bent over the table. His dark eyebrows are furrowed as he examines the placements of French and English troups. It is impossible to forget that his father is a king.
“Hello, Father,” Bash replies. His father's lack of eye contact makes him feel like he's not even in the room.
“Tell me, Sebastian, what is so important to Francis that he misses a counsel meeting?” asks the King shortly, raising his head to fix his gaze on his eldest son. Bash is surprised, it’s not like Francis to miss a counsel meeting. He is the dutiful son, the future king of France. He doesn’t have the luxury of missing a counsel meeting.
Bash honestly replies, “I don’t know.”
“Well, find out,” his father says and Bash understands he is dismissed even though his father doesn’t say much more. Conversations like this are the norm for the two of them. His father may favor him, but he is still the king of France and doesn't have time to waste on another son who will not succeed him. Bash is used to limited words.
He bows to his father and leaves the throne room, headed for Francis’ rooms. His page will most likely know where his half-brother is gone. If he doesn’t, Bash decides to look for Mary. They’ve been quite close since the Italians invaded. He tells the guard standing at Francis’ door to inform Francis, if he is in his rooms, that he would like to see him.
Francis wakes with sunlight filtering through the curtains. Yawning, his eyes land on Mary, who is sleeping beside him. Her smooth arms pull the white sheets close to her chest but her legs are haphazardly stretched out from the sheets. One leg is draped over his, her hand resting on the mattress in front of his chest. Her eyebrows are in a smooth line, no sense of stress in them. He moves onto his side, brushing her hair out of her face softly. Her brown eyes flicker open, smiling lightly.
Francis opens his mouth to say something but when a knock sounds through the door, he is forced to call, "One moment."
Mary sighs, disappointed that they missed their moment of peace.
"I'm sorry," he says, kissing her forehead before pulling the sheets up to cover her. She tucks her legs under the sheets until she is unseen and Francis says, “Enter,” once he is sure Mary is hidden. His page walks in the room, bowing.
"Sebastian de Poitiers, your grace," the page says.
“Let him in,” Francis replies tiredly. The page nods, bows again and exits.
“Do I have time to go through the passages?“ Mary asks, looking out from the sheets.
“No, I'm afraid not. I am sorry, Mary. He’ll be in any moment,” Francis answers. Mary sighs and returns under the covers, but not before Francis grabs her, quickly kissing her lips. She smiles at him before disappearing as Bash strides in. He tries to ignore Mary's warm breath on his chest and attempts to focus on Bash, who walks towards the bed.
"Our dear father has been searching for you all morning," Bash says. Realization dawns on Francis' face when he remembers what he had forgotten. Bash smiles at his half-brother's face.
"Ah, the counsel meeting. I assume I missed it?" asks Francis.
"Yes. He's rather furious. Mary was supposed to be there too actually. You wouldn't know where she is would you?" Bash asks. Francis shakes his head, attempting to look innocent but Mary can't help but let out a giggle through her fingers. Bash frowns, hearing her laugh. Francis tries to pull a passive face and Mary wonders if Bash can hear her heart beating.
"Did you just laugh?" asks Bash, taking a step towards the bed.
"What? No. I mean yes, I did," Francis says.
"Since when do you sound girlish?"
"I didn't sound girlish!" he says indignantly and this time Mary smothers her laugh.
"Unless there's a girl in your bed, you laugh like a girl," Bash says good naturedly. Francis blushes and avoids his brother's gaze. Bash raises an eyebrow. "Unless there is a girl in your bed..."
"Girl? What girl? There aren't any girls in here," Francis says quickly and Mary releases a puff of laughter.
"There is a girl in your bed!" Bash says triumphantly.
"No girls in the vicinity!" Francis tries to say but Bash's smile only grows wider as he walks towards the bed. "Bash, don't take a step forward!"
"Who is it then?"
"No one because there's no one in my bed!" Francis answers.
“You don’t honestly think I’m that stupid,” says Bash, seeing through Francis’ weak lie.
"It's all right, I don't mind if he knows," Mary says, peeking a timid head out from under the sheets and Bash bursts out laughing. Francis and Mary exchange a look.
"Of course!" he says in between laughs. "Hello Mary."
"Hello, Bash," she replies sheepishly, revealing her whole head. Francis frowns.
"Oh calm yourself, brother. I can't see anything," says Bash, reading his brother's mind. Mary smiles up at Francis, who doesn’t say anything but still doesn’t look overjoyed at the fact that Mary is naked and Bash is in the room. He sits up more in bed.
"Father is very angry with you two," Bash repeats.
"Oh, let him stew, I'll just say Mary wasn't feeling well and I took her to Nostradmus," says Francis, waving a hand. Bash looks taken aback.
"I've never seen you so nonchalant about Father before," Bash points out.
"I have other priorities," he says, looking down at Mary. Now Bash is properly shocked. It isn't at all like Francis to shirk his duties.
"Evidently," says Bash and Mary blushes. Francis seems to decide that she isn't covered enough and pulls the sheet higher. Mary rolls her eyes.
"Would you rather I wasn't seen at all?" she asks, looking up at him.
"Depends on by whom," he replies, pretending to think. "If it’s only me, I am perfectly satisfied. In fact, I might not let you ever leave this bed."
He smirks down at her and she rolls her eyes as he puts his arm around her. She nonetheless settles into his embrace, adjusting the sheets as she moves.
"Oh you'll pay for that later," she laughs.
"I'm sure I will," he says, voice laden with innuendo, and Mary’s eyes widen, slapping him on his chest lightly. "Just make sure it's enjoyable for both of us, not just you."
"Francis!" she reprimands but smiles lightly as she nudges him, nearly pushing him off the bed. He grabs her hand at the last minute, pulling her closer and kissing her. She relaxes into his arms and kisses him back, eyes closed.
"You do realize I'm still here," Bash interjects when Francis cups Mary's face. They immediately pull apart, Mary red as a tomato and Francis smug.
"Yes, why are you still here, Bash?" Francis asks jokingly and Bash looks affronted.
"I see I am not wanted!" he says dramatically, adding, "I shall depart and leave you two to your revenge plots."
He nods to Mary, winks at Francis and pivots, striding out of the room. Once he is gone, Mary laughs loudly but Francis quells it by pressing a kiss to her lips. She responds instantly, threading her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. He rolls on top of her, grinning against her lips.
"So," he says, smirking as he pulls away. "What of that punishment?"