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"I will. All of it."

There was pain in Henry voice at those words and yet an unbreakable devotion, an indomitable passion, that outshone it. He understood what he offered to give up so that they could have a real future as husband and wife. He would never see his family, Edward and Iamarl, or home again. He would no longer be Hotspur or a true Percy in anyone's eyes but theirs. His life as a knight would be over. Everything would be different in her time.

Everything except for Mary, the love they felt for one another, and the incomparable happiness that brought.

It was a steep price to be paid and yet he would pay it of his own free will — if Mary did not refuse him. If the Olympians did not deny them.

But he knew that he would not forgive himself if he did not try.

The forcefulness of his words floored her. Of all the things she expected to talk about with Henry this evening, this was not it. She never would have anticipated that he would give up his life for her.

"Henry..." She brushed her fingers through his hair and stared up at his handsome face. "My love, I want to know that you are sure of what you want and that you have thought through the consequences. I should hate to have you make a decision to come with me and then... end up regretting it."

Mary felt like they both made each other endlessly happy, but would it last forever? Would it be worth sacrificing living everything that made him the man he was back home?

Henry held Mary's gaze, feeling her touch acutely. "I know what I relinquish. It is a blessed life. Yet you would not be part of it."

He kissed her with all the love and urgency he felt.

"So I choose a life with you, Mary... if you but wish for the same. You shall face consequences too."

It had to be their decision, not merely his.

With raw longing, he murmured, "We could wed in a church, have children—"

In some ways, she could scarcely believe that Henry would want to choose her over all that awaited him back home. Was she not just a woman? At her core, she wondered if there was anything really that special about her. But then she remembered the way Matthew looked at her, the way he felt about her. It was the same look in Henry's eyes. He loved her so much that he was willing to give up his life. Certainly there would be consequences for her too, though nothing like the ones he would face. If he was willing to do that for her, was she not willing to make that sacrifice as well?

Mary put a hand on his cheek. Before they planned anything, she needed to know if it was even possible. "Let me go and pray to Juno at her altar. The queen of the gods has never spoken to me directly, but I feel as though I have represented her house well among the Chosen. I hope that she will hear my plea."

Henry nodded.

"Godspeed."

With reluctance, he released his hold on Mary.

"...Where keep you your paper and ink?"

While it was not yet certain, he wanted to prepare. If he had a choice Henry would not leave his family and his friends to think him dead. Surely it was possible to send letters back to whence he came in his stead.

He had just hired Lilias at the Mercenary Tavern to rescue Iamarl and they were to set out in the morning. She would check his room when he did not show. So she would find the letters and she could pass those not for her onto Iamarl. Iamarl could then pass those letters not for her on to Edward. And Edward could deliver those last few to his family. All of them knew his handwriting and trusted one another.

"In the bureau next to my bed," Mary replied. She wondered what he was doing, but did not ask. Instead, she kissed Henry once more and left for Juno's altar.

--

About an hour later, Mary returned. Her countenance was happy though she felt concerned as she found Henry in her bedroom.

"I prayed fervently to Juno and she appeared to me," Mary said as she sat down on her bed. "She has heard our plea and in this case is willing to grant us what we wish for. Tonight, we need only fall asleep together and tomorrow we will wake up in my home. But Henry..." She looked up at him, eyes full of worry. "Is it what you truly want? There will be no coming back from it."

In truth, Henry was glad for the solitude as he wrote. Pouring his heart into words was no easy task and this was his last chance to speak to those whom he loved in his own — former — time. He did not want Mary to see his struggle and feel guilty for a choice that had been his.

Once he had finished and stacked his letters into a neat pile he bowed his heads, clasped his hands, and prayed until he heard the door open. He turned at watched her approach. Her happiness invoked his own; her words filled him with warmth. Though his heart ached deeply, he knew that he would not regret his decision as he moved to kneel before her. There would never be another woman like Mary again. He took both of her hands in his and squeezed them as he met her gaze, unwavering.

"It is what I truly want," he vowed.

She took her head in his hands and brought him close to her, leaning down to kiss his forehead. It felt as though he was swearing fealty to her once again, and she accepted it. He was her Knight and she was his Lady.

"Then, my love, let us prepare for bed."

Mary stood and went to change, hopefully for the last time, into her linen night shift. She pulled out her hair, grown long in the months in Rome and combed it through, but did not braid it tonight. While Henry readied himself, Mary was lost in thought about what their plan would be when they arrived in Downton... if this worked. She was fairly sure that they could manage this, though it might take some time to make their love seem realistic, and not something that simply happened overnight.

Once Henry had readied himself for bed, he picked up a piece of paper, folding it until it was small and then turned to face Mary.

"Mary, I..."

He held it out for her to take.

"I want you to keep this close tonight. On the chance that these pagan gods move false."

Inside was a hand-drawn map; a small piece of Yorkshire that they both knew. A place where he could leave her something if he awoke alone in his own time.

Mary took the paper from him and unfolded it. She did recognize the area, though was not sure why he was leaving her a map. Nonetheless, she took it. "I will hold it as closely as I hold you," she told him. How she hoped that by clinging to each other they would land in the same time, and of course she hoped that the time would be hers.

The two of them got into bed and Mary slid into Henry's arms. She caressed his face and gave him a tender kiss. "My love, I pray that we will not be separated from each other."

She can't bear to say goodbye to him now, even if she may never see him again after tonight.

Henry drank in the sight of Mary's beloved face as he basked in her touch, her kiss, as she lay ensconced in his arms. He had to believe that they would wake together. The alternative was too painful to linger on for all that he had given her the map.

"When dawn breaks we shall begin our new life together, never to be parted."

Yet he did not want to sleep with those his last words of the night. Whatever came to pass, he knew what he wanted Mary to remember most of all.

"The wife I chose... my sovereign always. I love you, Mary."

She took one of Henry's hands and clutched the folded paper between his hand and hers, hoping that it would remain with her even if Henry didn't.

"I love you too, Henry. You are my knight. You have made me the happiest woman alive."

Mary leaned in to kiss him again before the two of them tried to sleep. She knew it would probably take a bit of time to fall asleep because of her nerves, but eventually she drifted off.

--

When Mary woke, something was undoubtedly different. The bed she was in was far more comfortable and larger than what she had gotten used to. The light was diffused differently. At first she was afraid to open her eyes, scared that what she was hoping for would not be true.

When she finally did, she realized that she was back in her room at Downton, and to her delight, Henry was sleeping next to her in bed. It had actually happened. They were actually here together.

From the way the light fell, Mary could tell that it was still early morning. She leaned over and gently shook the man next to her. "Henry," she whispered.

A lifetime of soldiering meant that Henry woke immediately, alert as soon his eyes opened. He blinked, then breathed, "Mary."

It was dawn. Though he was yet to look, the world around him felt different in a myriad ways he instinctively noticed, though he was yet to catalogue the many details. He was too focused on one fact: he looked upon Mary's lovely face.

She was there. They were here — her home, he supposed — together.

"Mary," he echoed reverently.

The swell of victory filled his chest.

Overjoyed, Henry leant in and kissed Mary fervently.

She grinned against his mouth before returning the kiss, feeling his love and passion for her. Now she would not have to lose him. With that hurdle surmounted, she would have time to think about the next stage of their plan.

For now, there was only one thing that she wanted. Both of them were as naked as they had arrived in Rome. Mary stroked her hand over Henry's chest as the kiss broke.

"Make love to me," she whispered against his lips.

It was still early and Anna would not yet be waiting for her call. They had time, if they could be quiet.

"Gladly," Henry murmured.

There was nothing he wanted more in the moment. Desired blazed in his expression; her touch was proof that this was real and he yearned for all of her.

Henry kissed Mary again, running his hands over her bare back. He tugged her closer yet and slid a leg between hers, eager to feel her body pressed against his.

She let out a short gasp when Henry pulled her close. They were going to make love in her own bed. Mary could scarcely believe it.

Sliding the blanket off of him so that she could see more of him, Mary brushed her fingers down his chest to his stomach, teasing his warm skin. How she anticipated feeling him inside of her, her husband, even if he wasn't so in this world.

Henry sighed, basking in the brush of her slender hand; even that light touch affected him greatly as it descended. A bright shiver ran through him. It was a physical reminder that she was his to keep, never to fade where mere memories would have.

"I was afraid," he whispered to her, a confession he was free to make now that their time of reckoning had passed, "That I would wake to God's green earth absent thee."

His hands continued their upwards path along her spine, up the elegant line of her nape, until they finally buried into her dark tresses. In the dawning light of a crisp English morning Mary was more breathtaking than ever. It was a miracle to be here, to feel her caress. How keenly he felt that knowledge.

"As was I," she responded. She had trusted Juno when the goddess had given them instructions, but there was still a bit of doubt in her mind. Now she was nothing but thankful. Henry was here with her for as long as they could be together.

Mary enjoyed the exquisite touch of his fingers, then pulled him in for another kiss. It was as if she stopped touching him he might fade away. Quickly, she positioned herself, one leg over his hip as she opened herself to him. Her hand moved down between their bodies in order to place the tip of his cock at her entrance.

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