Okay, I know that season 2 just premiered and that this story may not follow the sequence of events but I just wanted to focus on Bash and Kenna first (you can say that I didn't want to write about anyone else except them) so, for anyone that's still curious - this is now officially an AU.

To those who reviewed - thank you! To those who favorited and followed - thank you too!

And thus concludes my too long one-shot that I decided to split into three parts. I hope you guys enjoy this and leave a review to let me know what you think!

Nostradamus heaved a tired sigh as he stalked out of his quarters, medicine in hand. Twenty people relying on him to get better, one the King's half brother and the other the Queen's good friend. He could feel the fatigue seep into his bones and vaguely wondered how long had it been since he had a decent amount of sleep.

One week.

It definitely had to be one week.

Even if he knew termination wasn't the best idea and it went against his moral principles, he had no choice but to suggest that to the Lady Kenna. Her morning sickness often left her pale, distraught and uncomfortable as she pleaded with him for some herbs.

He had told her that there was none that he could spare and the quiet understanding coupled with the anguish in her eyes made his heart constrict. Nostradamus didn't mean to drag her pain but there were other people in need of the nauseous medication and all of them facing the possibility of worsening.

The seer admired her, felt touched that she would understand where he was coming from and forgave him for not being able to treat her.

Which is why he felt absolutely wretched now for breaking this to her.

"Lady Kenna," he said, knocking on the wooden door. Nostradamus had whisked the Mistress of Horse and Hunt away to an abandoned room near the towers after she had confessed to him, where she and her baby would be safe from the raging sickness all around them.

He had told her that this was the best that he could do, and she didn't complain.

Kenna even thanked him, despite the chill surrounding the tower and the barely furnished room.

"I am so sorry for any discomfort but this place hasn't been used in awhile," he had apologized, watching as the lithe brunette made her way around the room, settling herself on the edge of a straw bed, hands wrapped around her slim waist.

"Don't worry about me," she had declared. "It's perfect for me now."

The physician would visit her often, bringing her food and news of her husband's wellbeing. Kenna had been pensive whenever any mention of Bash came up and he didn't blame her.

"The door's unlocked," she called, voice muffled through the wood.

He pushed the heavy opening aside, cradling her usual breakfast of bread and apples.

Kenna was seating by the fireplace, arms wrapped around herself, eyes trailed at the smoldering embers.

"Your breakfast," he said, placing it on her rickety bedside table.

"Thank you," she replied in a soft voice, eyes not leaving the hearth.

Nostradamus removed a bag of herbs from his robe and placed it next to the plate, clearing his throat to catch her attention.

"Milady, I have something I would like to discuss with you."

She looked up at him, her gaze despondent, fiery brown eyes subdued. "Yes?"

"I know you are grieving for not meeting your husband and telling him the news and...I think that maybe it's best if you...got rid of your child."

Kenna's head whipped up so fast he was worried she had sprained it, but the look of horror on his face detracted his thoughts.

"What?" she whispered. "You want me to..."

"I don't want that for you," Nostradamus disagreed, heart heavy, "I was just merely suggesting that children can always be bred again and it isn't as if you are barren, Kenna. Now's just not the best of time to be starting a family."

She glanced in disbelief at him, eyes rekindling with the fire of indignation. "In effect, you want me get rid of my child so that it wouldn't bring you any hardships?"

"No," he replied vehemently, shaking his head. "I told you it's for the best, I didn't say that it was the only way."

"But you were suggesting it!" Her voice had risen to a cry, tears brimming and spilling down her face. "You were suggesting that I kill my own, the child that's mine and Bash's because it poses an inconvenience to you!" she hissed.

He didn't even try to deny her accusations.

All he did was blow air out of his cheeks, gesturing to the bag.

"If you ever change your mind, just swallow the herbs with a cup of water, the cramps will start in a few hours." He left her, abandoning the confused girl behind and not for the first time, Nostradamus wished that circumstances wouldn't force him to be so callous to another person's suffering.

On one hand, he didn't want to force her to do something that she would regret but on the other, he just couldn't see her so miserable anymore. It was obvious that Kenna missed her husband, missed her friends and being quarantined and hidden somewhere from everyone did not suit the impulsive young woman with a personality akin to a firecracker.

And unfortunately, all of this could be solved by an abortion, something that even made him shudder.

But he had no choice. Nostradamus always didn't have a choice.

~~O~~O~~

Bash kept his eyes on the passage of Luke although his attention was drawn to the window in his peripheral vision. It was almost sun down and Nostradamus would be appearing with his medication and food anytime soon.

The blade that he had kept in his right boot felt cool against his skin and for a moment, he wondered if threatening the seer was something that he really wanted to go through with.

Nostradamus always seemed like a parental figure even if he and Bash weren't as close as they were now ten years ago. Despite that, Sebastian still held a high regard for the quiet physician and his secret ways; doing this felt almost like a betrayal to a very good friend. Which, truth be told, it might be.

But you don't have to hurt him, the young lord amended. You just have to get him to speak.

The door opened, interrupting Bash's thoughts and he set the bible down in time to see the man of his thoughts walk in, meal and medicine in hand.

"Good evening Sebastian, and how are you feeling today?" he asked, setting down the items on a nearby table.

"Good."

Before the seer could blink, Sebastian had lunged towards him, grabbing him in a headlock, knife in hand. Nostradamus didn't even fight back and Bash could feel the seer tense in his hold as the knife's blade settled against the skin of his neck.

"Sebastian-"

"Where's Kenna?" he asked through gritted teeth. "Where is my wife?"

"I don't know-"

"Don't lie," Bash interjected. "Something is not right and it has to do with her so I'll ask again: where is she?"

Nostradamus stopped struggling and Sebastian took it as his cue to let go. The seer stumbled out of his grasp, placing his hand on his throat.

Wide dark brown eyes gazed at the young man in alarm.

"Now, where is she and why hasn't she come even once?" Bash demanded.

Instead of answering, Nostradamus walked to wall, pushing open a paneling with trembling hands. He turned to find a stunned Bash, staring at him, mouth hanging agape.

"Come on," was all the seer simply said, "I'll take you to her." Picking up a nearby lamp, Nostradamus disappeared into the wall, the room giving no indication that he was even here in the first place.

Bash followed him into the darkness, the sounds of trickling water could be heard from all around. He vaguely realized that they were right between the palace walls and that from his stance here, he could practically hear everything going on in the castle if he concentrated hard enough.

"...told you, it was nothing but mice."

"Do you think Audra's hair looks exceptionally bad today?"

Bash took Nostradamus by his arm, stopping the older man. "What is this place?"

"Tunnels, all joining together," the seer replied, continuing on his way down the darkened corridor with nothing but the lamp light guiding him. "Forming together as a means for your ancestors to walk the place without being seen."

Bash ran his hand over the damp rock, his feet stepping in something viscous and cold that he didn't wish to find out.

"You've never mentioned this."

"It was supposed to be a secret," Nostradamus shared. "A well kept secret that only a few knew of."

He rounded a corner, the light of the lamp fading from the walls and Bash hurried to keep up with him. They walked for a few more minutes, the silence punctuated by the sound of their breathing and the various echoes of dripping water.

The physician stopped abruptly, nearly causing Bash to run into him.

"What-"

"We're here," he simply said as he felt around the rocky wall. Bash saw his finger sink in the rock and with wide eyed amazement, the rock sank down, as if someone had compressed it and pushed it to the ground. Light flooded his senses and the young lord had to blink a view times for his vision to adjust. He squinted and could make an empty hallway, a huge door standing before them.

Nostradamus beckoned him and Bash stepped forward, into the light. The seer tapped on the heavy wood, a soft calling of, "Come in," could be heard.

He pushed open the door and wasting no time, Sebastian bounded into the room, catching sight of his beloved's tear stained face.

"Kenna," he breathed, rushing over to her.

She was gazing at him in incredulous surprise, stumbling back into a wall before his arms could wrap around her.

"Nostradamus," she cried in dismay. "What's he doing here?"

The physician looked from the distraught wife to the confuse husband and rubbed his head, sending her a grimace of apology. "I'm sorry, Lady Kenna, but your husband can be quite persuasive when he wishes to."

"I forced him to tell me of your whereabouts," Bash gritted out, the hurt churning in his heart. She was staring at him as if he were a murderer, coming after her with the intention to hurt. "Because you had so fearfully disappeared into thin air for the past few days and I was worried."

If he wasn't so aggrieved, he would have found that vaguely annoying.

"Please, stay back," she said, starting to cry again. Bash took a step forward but she retreated, moving into a corner, eyes wide as if she were a hunted prey and he was the terrifying hunter.

"Kenna-"

He looked to Nostradamus, to ask what was wrong with his wife when he saw that the physician had vanished, presumably to give them some privacy.

Bash frowned, running a hand through his mused brown hair. "Kenna, why are you so afraid?"

"Because you might not be better," she replied, moving her body so that her front was shielded away from him. Bash knew enough from his wife's body language to know that she didn't want him near her.

"I am," he insisted, taking another step forward.

It was a big mistake. Kenna shrieked and raised her hands, as if to ward him off.

"Please, no more closer," she begged.

He reiterated, stepping back. "Please," he implored, green eyes wide and afraid, "Just tell me what this is all about."

"I'm pregnant," she said, not missing a beat. Her face was flushed, eyes swollen from crying and the fear on her face was so real; he had never seen her look that way, not even when Henry had hounded her during his days of madness.

She was well and genuinely frightened.

"Y-You are?" he asked, the weight in his chest lifting.

Kenna nodded, no longer crying even if stray tears still slipped down her cheek. "Yes, and I can't have you near me because you might infect me."

"But I'm not infected," he persisted stubbornly. "I feel fine."

She looked like she wanted to agree but something stopped her. It was probably the rational part of her.

"I'm so sorry, for keeping this from you," she started, "I hoped that I would have the courage to terminate it but I didn't and-"

"Hang on," Bash said, gaze flaring. "You were going to have an abortion?"

"Yes, because it just wasn't the right time what with the plague and – Bash, just standing together in this room has increased the likely chance that me and the baby are already infected," Kenna said, the stress in her tone evident.

He nodded numbly, taking another step back.

"I didn't want to tell you because I was afraid you would get mad – that you would get mad at me."

"But I'm not," he countered. "In fact, I've never been happier. Kenna, can you imagine it? We're going to have a child," he said, with emphasis to their current situation. "How could I get angry at that?"

"You're just saying it because you feel obliged to," she replied, setting her jaw stubbornly. "Because I'm your wife and that's your duty."

"No, it's not that," he argued back, already growing increasingly annoyed at her pessimism. "What would get it into your lovely, thick head that I am happy for us?"

She arched an eyebrow and Bash immediately wished that he could take back what he said. Nobody would ever accuse his wife of being of a coward and once she needed to prove something, it would be hard to shake her out of it.

Kenna picked up a nondescript bag, tossing it to him. He caught it effortlessly, fingers clenching around the woven material as he studied the various dried leaves and flowers in the bag.

"It's some herbs Nostradamus gave me," she said quietly. "He told me that if I should ever choose to throw away my child, those will do."

"Why would he give you this?" Bash asked, feeling the anger crest in his chest. Which type of self-proclaimed healer would treat his patients this way? Give her an ultimatum to destroy the very life growing in her?

"Don't get angry with him," she pleaded. "He didn't have any more nauseous dispelling herbs for me and I was complaining about my morning sickness. I think he must have felt my sadness too as every time he came here, his smile would wilt and he would ask me to cheer up."

"That doesn't mean that he should have treated you that way," he replied in a dark tone.

"Bash, look around you," she said desperately, throwing an arm out to encompass the space around them. "The plague is right in our home, it's in you and you want me to have a child like this?"

Her voice broke and she looked like she was about to cry again but stopped herself with a firm shake of her head. "This is not the environment that I would want our baby to grow up in."

"I can help defeat this," Bash said, trying to reason with her. "I can find the blood pagans and tell them to reverse it, they must know how." He was rambling now. "Maybe they could try to talk some sense into the gods, give them an alternative sacrifice – there must be something that they would accept besides blood and-"

"Bash." Something in her voice stopped him and he looked up in time to see a swift, gentle smile gracing her face. It disappeared as soon as she laid eyes on her relatively flat stomach. "You are but one man in this fight to get rid of a plague that has stolen thousands of lives," Kenna murmured. "Don't you think it is slightly impossible to do that?"

"I would do anything," he said, jaw set in determination. "For you and our child, I would do anything."

"Get better," she said softly. "Take the medication that Nostradamus gave you. Get better for me and our little nugget."

He gave a hollow laugh at her affectionate nickname. "'Little nugget'?"

She quirked a smile. "Because he or she is a lump of the both of us."

Bash gave her a tender smile and despite the careful distance between them, he swore he could pick up her heartbeat from his standing point.

"Alright, I'll get better," he replied. "And you better take care of yourself too."

Kenna broke out into a bright smile and right now, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her in his arms. With her red rimmed eyes, puffy nose and resolved gaze, she looked every inch the soldiering woman that he had grown to love; beautiful in her own endurance.

"Thank you," she said, indulging him with another wide smile.

He turned, to reenter the dark tunnel but remembered the bag in his hand.

"Oh, and Kenna?" Bash said, swiveling back to look at her. Making sure her gaze was fixed on him, Sebastian deliberately tossed the bag into the fireplace, watching as the herbs caught flame and went up in smoke.

"You're wrong," he said, voice raw with emotion. "I do want this...for the both of us."

She gasped at his show of bold disobedience, hands falling limply to her sides.

"And I hope you know that I do love you, with all of my heart."

Kenna recovered, flashing him a bright smile that displayed all her love and affection.

"I love you too," she answered, her fingers reaching for his grandmother's ring on her left hand. She twisted it, feeling the metal ridges sliding under her soft touch, contemplating with an aching apprehension as her husband retreated back into the walls, sparing her one last searing gaze.

Her eyes dropped to the delicate band on her left hand and lips quirked up as they remembered the words that she had used when sharing her epiphany with Bash.

The queerest feeling ever, as if someone is actually looking out for me.

Her hand fell to her lower belly where she cupped the barely developed bump. "Don't worry," she whispered, although the words were more for herself. "We'll see him again...soon."