You Can’t Fight It (romancerper & Scribe)

[TheDarkScribe]

Wind whipped the banners lining the main thoroughfare of the city, a stone paved road leading up a curving path to the castle gates. The sky was crystal blue above Keir as he watched from the walls, standing with the royal guards on either side. Beneath the castle, the splendor of Caldanor lay spread out like a sleeping dragon, ranging out like a fan from the castle gates. A slow small procession moved up the path to the castle where his father waited to great the arriving families, the few that could arrive along with the princess.

Sighing, the young man turned on his heels and headed down the stone stairs that led him from the wall into the little alcove. The building was considerably cooler out of the sun as his boots slipped on the well worked stone. Snakes roiled in his belly as he thought of the day ahead of him, wishing his father had believed in him to lead an assault against the Beast ever shifting Citadel. Surely it was a better option then trusting the world of their long-standing rivals and, worse, baring him in a marriage with a frigid cow. He had tried to find more about the woman after his father had purposed the idea, after raging at him for even considering it, but few seemed to know about her. He’d been heated enough to bring up his mother and how she’d not have let this happen, earning a proper blow for dishonoring her memory.

The guards peeled off to line the hallway outside of his room, carefully opening the door and shutting it behind him. He tried to keep his anger at the situation in check, knowing it wasn’t the guard’s fault, or anyone else. Even blaming his father after listening to him was hard, the early reports from other kingdoms where the Beast’s force had attacked were devastating. The entire world was filled with fear of the creature who came from the beyond and brought devastation, tales of the old telling of a world almost wiped out eons ago when the Beast last visited this world. Combining the might of the various kingdoms may be the only way to survive this new assault. But that didn’t mean he had to like or accept this fact in any way.

Stripping down, he laid out his clothes carefully on a settee before moving through the small marble archway leading into the bath. A brass bath had been drawn and filled with various lotions and herbs so the water was white as milk with a few bits floating on top. Sighing deeply, he eased himself in and just soaked for a moment, not caring he had deadlines for things, just wanting to relax. The water smelled of pine and sandalwood with a hint of herbal bouquet which clung to his skin, heat seeping into his body. It had been sore from constantly practicing with the soldiers in the castle, wanting to be at his best when they went against the Beast’s forces.

The warm water surrounded him as he sunk into it before grabbing the gilded book that stood on a stool near the bath, pulling it to him to read a few pages. A deep sigh left him as he flipped though the book, eyes simply moving over the words without reading. He had always thought he’d finally find the woman he was meant for like the knights and heroes in the tales. The beautiful woman of heart and spirit who waited for her hero to find and rescue, to bring out of the darkness and win her love. It was something that you just knew when it was right and it filled your heart with such light it was overwhelming. You didn’t sell off love or make deals with it. A part of him knew it was all just tales and the world didn’t work that way, especially when you were the king’s son. But it was the only thing he’d ever hoped for in his life and it hurt to let go of it.

Twisting up his lips, he slammed the book closed and tossed it back onto the stool. Rising from the tub, water dribbled down in rivulets along the curves of his lean, muscular form, water sloshing at the rim of the tub as used the strigil to wipe the water from his body. Once he was fairly clean, he slipped out of the tub and wiped down his legs, applying a little sandalwood oil to his body. A quick shave was also in order for his wedding day so he called in a servant to help him, the metal quickly removing the little stubble that had grown away. Once the lotion was wiped way, he was left freshly washed and ready for his wedding.

Moving back to the bedroom, his bare feet padded over the stone floor and onto well woven rugs, looking over the outfit laid out for him. He slipped on the silken breeches first before sliding on the rather tight white pants, buttoning them up and before sliding his feet into the thigh high white boots, lacing them up the back until they were firm but hugging his legs. Then, he slid on the billowy white shirt before sliding into the tight-fitting dress jacket, the collar and wrist trimmed in gold. A white sash was tied around his waist before he strapped on a rich black leather belt and frog from which hunt a matching scabbard, the elegant handle of a long sword sticking out. Looking himself in the mirror, he felt near tears with nerves and the feeling of impending doom.

The walk to the High Temple set in the castle was a long, slow walk, the ties of his boots constantly slapping with each step. It felt strangely like walking to an execution as he moved though the tight hallways of the inner castle before it opened up as the got to the center main halls. On another day, half the kingdoms would have turned out to this ceremony and paid respects to a potential royal couple, but today there were only a handful of people lining the benches of the temple. Guards split off from him as he approached the main dais with it’s grand alter, a priest in green and gold robes sitting behind the alter, water already glistening in the firelight where it sat in the shallow bowl built into the alter.

Making his way down the aisle, he was about to start up the few steps to the raised dais when his father stopped him, serious eyes on him. “This is for the kingdom, Keir,” the man said in a growling whisper. “Do not embarrass us here or ruin this union.”

The muscles in the prince’s jaw jumped as his lips pulled tight for a moment, glancing over the crowd with cool blue grey eyes. Nostrils flaring, he pushed down the flames of anger not wanting to deal with a roused father. “I will do what is needed for my king and kingdom,” he spat though clenched teeth. “I fall on my sword for you.”

The King looked carefully at him in his military uniform, a tight arm on his bicep before releasing his son, taking a seat. Swallowing hard, Keir slowly rose up the stairs to take his spot on the right of the alter, looking nervously down the hall as the snakes skittered in his belly only to fall down into the sudden pit opening up in there.

 

[romancerper]

"You vex me," her father had stated as if it were an obvious fact, something one could find written in stone. The young princess was certain if he had his way, it would be carved over the door to her tomb, a reminder to all that looked upon it.

Princess Undine, whose sole purpose in life had been to vex the man who had given it to her.

A couple years ago, such a criticism from him would break her heart, but now, she did not spare him a glance, eyes trained out the window of their carriage, taking in the sights of the first city she had been allowed to see. The drawings she had seen of Caldanor did no justice to its architectural grandeur, and the texts had failed it greatly in describing just how massive the metropolis was. Of course, most of the books kept in the royal library had been written by Baygonian authors, so she really shouldn't have been surprised by the amount of bias their written accounts had contained. It was, however, a desert kingdom, one that had managed to thrive despite the odds against it. But as beautiful as it was, Undine wasn't sure she could ever view this place as home.

"How fortunate for you, then. By the end of this day, you will be rid of me."

And she would belong to a womanizing prince. Fate did have a cruel sense of humor; as the saying went, history loved repeating itself. The only difference? Her mother had been foolish enough to love the philanderer she married. Undine would not make any similar mistake. She knew from a young age that she would be married off one day for the good of her people, and that was the only reason she willingly sat across from their king, allowing him to transfer her from one gilded cage to the next.

"Insolent girl. Had your mother heard such words from your lips, she would--"

"Mother isn't here." This time, she pinned him with sharp brown eyes, her words laced with venom. "You would not allow her to come." And she did not argue. She never did. Never stood up for herself or her children. In the end, her husband's command was law, even if it meant she would not see her only daughter's wedding.

"There is no place safer than the palace." The older male straightened in his seat, raising his bearded chin. "You know that."

She did not dignify his statement with a response, her gaze once again moving to the window. In truth, she did not know that for sure. The last time Undine had set foot out of the palace, she had been but a few years old. Her mother had brought her out to view the horizon, where waves rolled onto velvety sand, and at night, she could still hear the sound from her bedroom, the subtle crash then silence repeated over and over. Technically, they had not left royal grounds that day, but when they had returned to their home, hems of their skirts damp and hair fallen out of place, smelling of salt, they had been forbidden to return. Tales of the Beast had spread throughout Baygone, and the council had reason to believe they held truth.

Still, the stone walls held dangers of their own, and Undine did not think it wise for them to leave the queen, even while well-guarded. The princess had lost that argument, two to one, and she had kept her mouth shut about it ever since.

Her continued silence had earned her a heavy sigh from her parent. "Do try to be somewhat charming. Use your mother as an example for yourself. Always smiling and cheerful...The definition of perfect wife."

You have not seen her when she is alone.

The princess swallowed thickly over the knot in her throat. It had been there since they had left two days prior, and she doubted it would leave her any time soon. As much as she had prepared herself for every situation, every possible worst case scenario, she still felt as if every last one of her nerves were slipping from her iron grip. It was only natural, she supposed. Any person in her place would feel the same about marrying a stranger that had an...unsavory reputation, especially when he was the enemy up until their engagement. Betrayal was still an option, and as his wife, Undine was basically his property to do with as he wished.

"We have arrived."

And sure enough, the carriage stopped, the door closest to her father opening first. A hand appeared, offering its king something to hold onto as he stepped down and onto the streets. She watched a moment before letting her eyes fall closed, inhaling slowly before returning the breath to the air surrounding her.

"Come along, now." Her father's chiding voice again. "Stop wasting time."

She opened her eyes to find him waiting for her, the footman with his hand extended towards her. Blood pounding loudly in her ears, she took it, accepting his help as she grabbed onto her skirts, lifting the fabric just enough to prevent tripping.

The sun was blinding and hot as it beamed down upon her, but it was not nearly as scorching as it would have been, had she worn the gown her father had selected for her. The fabric was heavy and layered while her mother's wedding gown had been made for the beach, where she had pledged herself to a prince not so long ago. In Undine's opinion, the dress was beyond beautiful, despite its simple design, and while her father wished to show off their kingdom's wealth with jewel-encrusted lace, she would not budge on this, arguing that the white pearls that speckled the bodice and skirt as well as the veil would do a fine job of accomplishing that. Baygone was the only place in the known world that had access to such gems. What better way to represent her home than with a dress that embodied it?

Her father, much to her secret amusement, was fanning himself as he led her with his other arm.

Their introductions were brief, not nearly long enough to allow Undine to formulate an opinion of the king that was to be her father-in-law. He was polite, offering smiles and talking with them as if they were good friends--not age-old foes. Whether he truly was happy about the marriage or just the peace it would bring, she didn't know, but it probably didn't matter. In the end, she was stuck with him and his son, whom she was surprised to see missing. As both rulers chatted, she glanced about the hall he had led them into, but from the looks of things, her future husband was nowhere to be found. Would their first time meeting truly be right before they were to exchange vows?

Apparently so.

Shortly after their arrival, she was led away by two female maids, who were told to assist her in freshening up. Although, what their king felt they needed to do was lost to Undine. They would have reached this great city the evening prior, if her father hadn't insisted on stopping at the nearest town to spend the night. While she attempted to sleep, knowing she would have an early start, her father had enjoyed himself at the local brothel. She doubted he got any rest, hence his mood, and while she had been bathed and cleaned up for her wedding, he had delayed their departure, arriving back at the inn with his guards practically carrying him; he was still recovering from all the ale he had consumed the night before.

Fortunately, he was exemplary at recovering, after many, many years of practice. The only skill he was better at? Acting.

The princess initially thought she had inherited her unique ability at outwardly pretending everything was fine from her mother, but she supposed her father deserved some credit. With the servants, she had been pleasant, a smile plastered on her face as they touched up the rouge on her lips and tidied her hair a bit under the veil. They talked animatedly, telling her how lucky she was, marrying their prince.

He was so handsome.

Every woman in Caldanor dreamed of being with him.

She was very fortunate.

Their words were of no comfort to her, doing next to nothing to calm the racing organ within her chest, but she appreciated their efforts.

Her father fetched her not too long after she was left to her own devices. The time had past very quickly, despite having nothing to do but sit and stare at her own reflection. He warned her twice, once before leaving the room and second--a harsh hiss in her ear--right before they had reached the temple. His grip on her arm was like a vice, another reminder to behave, but Undine had no intentions of doing what he feared most. She had accepted her fate, and if it meant she had done right by her people as their princess, she was okay with being a sacrificial lamb, being taken to the slaughter.

She hung her head like one, as if the man beside her was leading her by a noose, until she felt eyes on her. Lifting her chin, she was barely able to make out the faces of their guests, the veil just transparent enough for her to see where she was walking. Ahead, there was the alter, a man--the priest--standing behind it and the prince she was to marry. Shapes in space with color to them. That's all they were in her gaze until her father assisted her up the few steps to the raised dais. Once left alone beside her betrothed, she could finally look upon his face, finding that the women from earlier had been right, not that she particularly cared.

They went to waste on a idler like him.

 

[TheDarkScribe]

Standing at the alter of the temple, Keir felt a fool dressed in all of this finery while a battle was raging on the borders of this world. It was a waste of time and resources to be bothering with this whole charade. If they had no choice on the matter why not just let them be married, the kingdom’s united, and to hell with the pomp and circumstance. It was probably the insistence of the Baygonians, he’d heard they were a lot that liked all of their finery and bright bobbles. Soft and silly. He was reminded of the tale of street urchin Aldus who had found a shadow in a cave in the desert and was granted the hand of a Baygonian princess named Minah. But it was all a trick, he loved her but in the end his tales told to her in the night didn’t change anything and he found her just a tiger in disguised, a trick of the darkness.

Music played and he could feel hit gut fall out, a bottomless pit opening up, his hand wrapping around the handle of the blade at his side. His knees felt weak hearing the music, more willing to face down the armies of the Beast than face this shrill princess. He’d heard from people at the party he’d refused to attend that she seemed haughty and above everyone in the room. The idea of a woman who had no passion and no love turned his veins to ice, having seen enough nobles at court with wives like this. They were the ones who ran off to the whorehouses or kept mistresses in a dozen places, needing some passion in their life. It had always seemed a dishonorable act, they had pledged their selves to a woman and then spat on that pledge. But now, he wondered, how long would he linger in the ice stare of this woman before he was running for some relieve, some feeling of care.

Turning to look down the aisle, his eyes widened then narrowed, the sight of the woman walking down towards the alter. It was a scandalous dress for Caldanor showing so much skin and it showed her body to be far from that of a cow, as some had whispered. Though the veil she wore did much to conceal her features so he supposed the woman could still be a hyena faced figure as other’s had mentioned in the courts when the arraignment had first been purposed. True, they had been spoken by the women he often had around him, enjoying their company. He’d found it amusing how many he’d supposedly had, not sure any man had that much stamina, but he didn’t mind the rumors.

The priest stepped forward and began to speak from the ancient text, everyone rising, as he spoke about the sacred bond of marriage. It was hard not to roll his eyes and he’d started to drown it out in his head when he heard the instructions to lift the veil. Reaching up, he carefully stepped forward as his fingers delicately plucked at the thin fabric, rising it to toss it back over her head. Blinking, his lips pulled into a tight line as he stepped back, surprised that she was much more beautiful than reports had indicated. But the look in her eyes chilled him to the bone, he could only imagine the cold hard beating inside of her breast.

A young boy came forward as the ceremony droned on, his focus failing as he felt a sense of doom falling around his shoulders. He held a small torch out, the air growing electric around them as the ceremony continues. Reaching a bare hand out, Keir took a deep breath, reaching out to cup the flame in his hand, it leaping amazingly into the palm of his hand. Holding the flame, he leaned over the alter and held his hand over the water. I give fire to water,” he began, a lump in this throat. The words were ancient and powerful, and he knew it meant they would be bound now and forever. “It will not return, except from the hand of the woman I choose as my wife.” He plunged his hand into the water, pulling it out dripping with no flame around.

Turning to the woman, he waited for her part, knowing that when he moved to take the flame from her hand, the priest would move around to wrap a cord around their arms. The flame would be taken back and rings would be placed to signify their bond. The idea sent a shiver down his spine as he watched the woman, dark eyes sparkling in the flames lighting the hall.

 

[romancerper]

Undine had heard the rumors about her appearance. As a young girl, the last any of the people outside the palace had seen her, she had been a bit over weight. A three, her mother affectionately said that she was still losing her baby fat, but once she was on the cusp of womanhood, she had thinned out a little. The idea of her appearing as a cow seemed to stem from before that, and many claimed the real reason the king had locked his daughter away was because she was so grotesque that some had mistaken her for the Beast. Her caged life was a form of protection, should anyone accidentally bring harm to her.

Her younger brother had been the subject of similar gossip. All of it unfounded and utterly idiotic, but the princess had other things to worry about, one of them being the man standing next to her at present.

As the priest began the ceremony, his monotone voice fading into the background rather quickly, Undine stole another sideways glance at Keir. He seemed bored, and she had even caught him rolling his eyes. Of course, this was all a jest to him. Loyalty. Being faithful. The sanctity of marriage. The young woman could understand being against this; in fact, no one was probably more against this than she was, but at least she was going to hold up her end of the deal. Miserable as she would likely be, Undine would be his wife, and part of her duty as one was to remain at his side. There had to be some amount of trust between them by the time they assumed the throne; otherwise, it would be hard for them to stand together and rule fairly.

Once given the cue, she turned to face Keir, keeping still as she saw his hands rise in her periphery. A moment later, she was looking up at his face without any barrier, and he appeared to be even more put off. The princess hadn't been expecting his eyes to widen or for him to gawk at her, taken aback by her beauty, but the man looked utterly disheartened, as if she was the cow everyone claimed she was. Maybe he had been hoping for one behind that veil.

Or maybe she wasn't nearly as pretty as some of the women he spent his time with. Well, sorry to disappoint.

She turned her head, brown eyes returning to the face of the priest as he continued on with his speech. Having only read about weddings, Undine was aware that the next steps involved an ancient practice, involving two of the elements--fire and water. Sure enough, a boy that reminded her somewhat of her brother when he had been younger, brought a torch forward. Unable to stop herself, the corners of her mouth twitched upwards as she watched him, only to disappear as her gaze went to the prince's face. She watched as he took the flame, uttering the words that would bind him to her forever as he lowered it into the small pool of water.

Then, all eyes were on her, making her aware that it was her turn.

Feeling a bit nervous, she lowered a hand into the water, speaking slowly to keep her voice from shaking. "I take fire from water." She lifted her arm, the flame from earlier sitting within it. Oddly enough, it did not burn her, only emitted heat against her skin. Turning, her eyes lifted to Keir's face, she spoke once more. "I give it only to the man whom I choose as my husband."

 

[TheDarkScribe]

A shiver ran up Keir’s spine listening to the woman speak the words, words he’d heard before at other important ceremonies. He remembered his mother telling him about how glorious this part was, how she’d felt the presence of the gods in the ceremony, blessing their union and uniting them. Her marriage had been arranged as well and she’d always professed to love his father but he wondered now, knowing how little time they spent together. She’d been the one to tell him the first tales of hero’s and lovers, great romances that spanned all gaps. He’d expected to feel that same power and swelling of his breast as she had claimed today but he just felt hallow and alone.

With a steady hand, he reached out a hand to slowly touch her hand, as if the flesh would burn him more than the flame. A slight shudder moved though his hand as his fingers brushed along hers, cupping her hand and tilting it slightly. The flame slid to his palm as he did, sensing the priest moving around behind him. As the blame burned, the prince brought his hand down to enclose her hand as if they were shaking. He could feel the coolness of her skin and the deeper warmth against the palm of his hand, the smoothness of the back of her hand under the pads of his fingers. Static electricity moved up his arm and he assumed it was the result of the long dress, impractical as it was.

As they held hands, the priest came around and began to wrap a gold and red cord around their wrist and hands, binding them together in the elements. Keir had to swallow hard at the feeling of being trapped with the woman, he was trapped enough with her. He could only guess at how vacuous she was like all of the other courtiers he’d encountered. Perhaps worse, he’d heard about how fiery and barbaric the desert people could be, the had little manner it was generally agreed. But they were good allies so compromises were made. The binding seemed to take forever as he had to stare at the woman, admitting she was pretty to look at but that was not everything.

Finally, the priest turned around, holding his hand up high to the crowd. “I present to you,” he said with far too much gravitas, “Prince and Princess Keir and Undine Belenne. May House of Belenne and House Uthyr forever be bound together under the gods.” The crowd cheered and clapped though it was far from the thunderous noise usually seen at such an event with so many kingdoms dealing with the Beast. There was a finality to it all that left a pit in his gut as the old priest lowered his hands and began to walk back around the alter.

Wiggling his hand, the cord fell away to land on the ground as Keir moved his hand away, letting it fall back at his side. He took a step closer to the woman, eyes moving over her face as a muscle twitched in his jaw. “My mother always said it was good to compliment the bride,” he started, eyes bright but sad. “So I should say I’m glad to find that the reports of your face being akin to a lizards was sad court rumors. Or that you resembled a cow.” His lips grew tight as he felt out of anything more to say nice to the stranger in front of him, the stranger that was now his wife.

The priest cleared his throat drawing Keir’s attention before returning it to the princess. “A reception is to be held in the grand hall,” he started, offering an arm to her. “I’m told we must attend before our first night together. Both are obligatory.”

 

[romancerper]

The first thing that Undine took notice of when his hand first brushed against her own, was the fact that it was not the hand of a man that just lazed about all day. It was rather rough, his fingers callused. A worker's hand. She glanced up at his face, head still bowed, and wondered if there was more to him than she had heard. Occasional swordplay for entertainment purposes would not be enough to cause such coarseness. Then, as their hands came together, the warm flame slipping from her palm to his, a static sort of shock ran through her, leaving a fading heat in its place. The sensation was odd, something she had never experienced before, but not at all uncomfortable. Was it part of the ceremony?

As she tried to think of what else could cause such a phenomenon, the priest continued with the wedding, and it wasn't until he had announced them as man and wife that it really hit Undine as this being something real. Of course, she knew she came here to marry Keir today, and she knew what that would mean for her and her life's course from here on out; however, a small part of her hoped that something might thwart this whole thing. Now that nothing had and they were bound to one another for eternity, her expression faltered. No longer feeling calm--in fact, feeling rather panicked--as Keir took his hand back, her wide eyes were caught by the cord falling to the ground.

When Keir's voice reached her ears, she thought he might actually be trying to cheer her up. The prospect alone was doing a good job of it until her mind actually registered what he had said. Whatever hint of happiness she had shown on her features immediately went away, a frown pulling at her lips red lips. He called that a compliment? She couldn't believe what she had just heard. And her face resembling a lizard? She hadn't heard of that rumor.

Before she could think up an equally insulting response, Keir was offering her his arm, apparently wanting to escort her to the celebration that would be held in honor of their union. In truth, all Undine wanted to do was go curl up in bed. The thought of dealing with all these people and faking happiness sounded overly exhausting, and after all that she wasn't even allowed to relax. No doubt, her new husband expected her to stay up with him. Although, why he would want to do that with a lizard-faced cow was beyond her.

Her brown eyes glanced at his arm before going back to his face. "Well, there is one thing I can be happy about. My dearest husband finds me more pleasing to the eye than a tiny reptile and a large mammal." She began to descend the steps of the dais, noticeably without him. "You must tell me later: what other animals do I not remind you of?"

By this point, many of the guests had cleared the temple, lured to the grand hall with the promise of food and booze. At this point, Undine only planned to make an appearance and have something to eat before finding some quite corner to finally breathe in. She had no desire to spend time with Keir, after how he just acted towards her. What had she done to warrant such cruelty? She had not said a thing to him yet, and he had already made his mind up about her.

Ignoring the fact that she was being a bit hypocritical as she walked out of the temple without him, she continued to mull over his words the rest of the way to her destination. Outside the doors, she stopped and crossed her arms over her chest, turning around to wait for him to catch up. As much as she did not want to be in his presence right now, Undine knew she couldn't enter this room without him by her side. It wouldn't look good, their prince and princess at odds with one another within the first few minutes of being married.

 

[TheDarkScribe]

Kier looked at the woman trying to figure out what her problem was as she walked down the steps of the dais, seeming rather huffy at his words. He had assumed she’d heard the rumors of court, especially since they were about her. He’d heard the silly ones that he was a womanizer and liked to have a different whore from the whorehouse each night. He knew they were lies and they had all reached his ears but he’d not gotten upset when a friend brought it up in a similar manner. “I mean you don’t smell like a yak either, but I assumed you bathed for the wedding,” he called after her, a hint of anger in his voice.

The woman was turning out to be his worst nightmare, haughty and full of herself. He’d not called her any of those things but had assured her he was happy those rumors were not true, it was a sort of complement. It was obviously she was very pretty so did that really need to be pointed out to her or was she the type that liked to look in the mirror and have praise poured on her. Reaching a hand up, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose while she walked down the aisle, feeling this was going to be a long night.

Taking the steps two at a time, he was down the small stairs and walking down between the rows of benches, an angry stride making the sword swing against his hips. A few of the priest who helped out were moving through the benches and giving him side long glances, not sure if they were thinking him a cad or sympathizing with him. But considering this was feeling like the last day of his life, he found himself uncaring either way, which was rather unlike him. He wondered if this was what he had to look forward to with a life with her, a live of bitterness and anger.

He hit the door with a hand for either, throwing them wide with a grimace of anger on his face. The look quickly changed to one of surprise seeing Undine standing there, looking unpleasantly at him. Smiling brightly, as fake as could be, he moved towards her and bowed formally. “Fairest princess in the land,” he started, sounding formal with just a tinge of sarcasm. “Thank you for waiting for this humble prince. I bet your beautifulness to forgive if I failed to praise how you outshine the sun with your beauty.”

With that, he started walking down the hallway making sure she was with him but also keeping in front of her. The hallway was large enough to walk two abreast in the main hall and it was a short walk to the Grand Hall. Even a hallway away, they could hear the general commotion of the hall as food was already being served and drinks poured, guest talking and shouting. As soon as the couple walked in, an applause rose up with a few tapping their mugs on the table.

The Grand Hall was a large, open affair with rows of table set parallel to one another, white table clothes covering them. A small raised platform was towards the back of the room where a table was set and grand chairs were set out, the kings and other important heads already sitting in them. At the center of the table, between the two kings, two high back chairs sat open. Between the royal table and the rest was a decent size gap. Near the large fireplace sat a small band of minstrels playing a lovely tune. Large, metal chandeliers hung from huge rafters overhead lighting the room in a warm glow.

Moving to the main table, Keir didn’t bother holding a chair or waiting for her once they were in the hall, moving to pull out the chair next to his father. He sat down and called for a large glass of wine to be filled as far as it could be. The smell of cooked pheasant and deer filled the hall along with a multitude of other dishes, servants slowing bringing them out. He wasn’t much of a drinker but tonight he felt the need for a lot of wine, taking a healthy gulp of the burgundy liquid in-between deep gulps of air.

 

[romancerper]

Undine couldn't remember the last time someone had told her that she was beautiful, but she was certain her mother had been the one to give her such praise. Having little contact with the outside world as well as having all the servants and guards fear their king's reaction should they try to get close to her, she didn't really have many conversations with people outside her immediate family. Her chamber maid, the one who helped her with keeping her room tidy and get ready in the morning had told her on a few occasions, when asked, that she looked gorgeous, but the princess assumed she just said it because she had to; it didn't necessarily mean she had thought it. Regardless, it hadn't really mattered to Undine whether someone else found her appearance pleasing, and it shouldn't have mattered now. However, hearing such a "compliment" from her new husband was rather disappointing, to say the least. If anyone in this entire universe should find her attractive, it should be the man she was going to spend the rest of her life with. It made her feel a bit insecure. Sure, he had stated that she did not resemble a cow or lizard, but that was a far cry from telling someone that they are beautiful.

Of course, Keir didn't let it go. In fact, now, after her reaction, it was clear she had given him the wrong impression, and while Undine had thought to correct him, she didn't have the time nor the know how. Besides, he had started it with his underhanded comment! All she could do was openly gape at him, unable to believe what he had just said or implied.

She followed after him, lifting the skirts of her dress to prevent herself from tripping as she forced herself to somewhat keep up with him. His strides were longer than hers, but she managed to glower at him the whole trip to the Grand Hall, where a their union was being celebrated. From her point of view, there was hardly anything to be happy about. Her husband was a cad, and any hope she had of attempting to make this work had flown out the window.

His rudeness continued even in front of their guests and fathers, and it was clear that he was pointedly ignoring her presence. Not that she minded.

Her father pulled her chair out of her, giving her a questioning look as she moved to sit. The king was still trying to keep up appearances, but Undine could hardly bring herself to care about what he thought anymore. If he was angry, let him be. Just as she wasn't his problem anymore, he wasn't hers.

Once husband and wife were seated, the priest entered the room, flanked by two young children: the boy from earlier, who had held the torch, and a girl that appeared to be about his age, despite being slightly taller. They both held pillows covered in silk, and sitting atop each was a singular silver band, the physical proof of what had taken place this day. Both rings were said to be enchanted, as all wedding rings were, but only the couple, in time, would learn of their magical secrets. Of course, that was usually only true for couples that were in love, which she and Keir clearly were not.

"Present the rings," the priest said, lifting his arms into the air. At that signal, both children came forward. The boy stopped before Undine while the young girl stood before Keir, holding out the pillow. "These bands are the physical representation of your union. May you wear them proudly."

The princess glanced at her husband before reaching out a hand over the table to pick up her respective piece of jewelry. The silver band gleamed in the candle light, and for a moment, Undine thought she saw writing upon its flawless surface. It had been too quick a moment for her to read it, and while she wished to examine it closer, she knew she shouldn't hesitate in putting the ring on her third finger.

 

[TheDarkScribe]

Sitting in the chair, Keir was practically fuming as he watched the foot set before him, taking hardy droughts of the wine. Normally he’d put some more water in with it to thin it out but today he didn’t want it as strong as he could. He wanted to wipe out that helpless feeling inside of him like he was sliding slowly into quicksand, already up to his chest. Soon he’d ben swallowed and he’d drown in this ‘marriage’ to a woman who seemed only wanted to be praised, who had no humor he could see. The only shining grace was maybe with the marriage behind him his father would let him lead the combined forces against the Beast. The battlefield was preferred to the bedroom with this woman.

Still, his dour look quickly brightened seeing the two children enter with the priest, smiling brightly watching them come forward. He’d always wanted to have a large family, being the only son had been boring. The idea of having a little girl and boy delighted him, having always enjoyed children being around. Placing down his goblets, he looked over with a smile at his father who was glaring at him intently before looking over at Undine, the smile faltering for a moment. The idea of making a child with her filed his gut with ice, wondering what kind of mother she would even be.

“Aren’t you a darling,” the princes exclaimed. He rose a little from his seat to reach over and scrub the girl’s head playfully before plucking up the ring, bowing to her. “Thank you, Elise,” he said.

Twirling the ring around in his fingers, it felt heavy and solid in his hand, like it would weight him down into a grave. It was a coffin top to be put over him and the pile of dirt to pour over top of that, at least that’s how it felt. Sad eyes looked over the band of silver though he though he saw threads of gold in there but every time he looked; it was just more silver. The torchlight seemed to just catch it at weird angles he thought.

A lump had formed in his throat as he moved to place it at the top if his finger, hovering there as he looked around the room. Sweat was starting to break out over his forehead as he stared to slip his finger though, repeating to himself like a mantra that this was for the good of his country, for the good of his people. We must all make sacrifices in this trying time, in this time of an unprecedented invasion. Closing his eyes, he slid it down past all of his knuckles until it was wedged at the bottom of his ring, a cuff, a collar imprisoning him to her.

His eyes flew open though as he heard the beginning of tapping, remembering the last wedding he’d attended. After this point, it was often called on for the bride and groom to kiss and that was too much for him now. Looking around with panic, he saw the girl had lingered there with the pillow, his face brightening as he saw her. “Elise,” he exclaimed, rising up from the chair. He practically climbed over the table to get away and out of the crushing feeling. “Dance with me.”

Keir spared a glance back at the wedding table and saw the perturbed look his father gave him but at least now he could breath. Leaning over, he began a simple waltz with the young girl as the band played, filling the hall with music. The sour look was gone again as he laughed and teased the girl like a little sister as they danced. As the song ended though, she ran back to her family as a young female of the court, Sagria, grabbed his hand and pulled in into another dance, one he didn’t seem to fight. They had been friends at one time so he didn’t see any harm in dancing with an old friend, others in the crowd also taking to the floor.

 

[romancerper]

Not wanting to make as much of a spectacle of herself as Keir had, Undine simply mouthed the words "thank you" to the young boy, giving him a small smile. He returned the gesture, a wide grin overtaking his young features. Again, she was struck by how similar he was to her own brother, whom she wouldn't be seeing as often as she once had. Her heart sank at that realization. In truth, he was her best friend and confidant at the palace, being about four years younger than she. The two of them took pride in annoying their father and defending their mother, both very much to their parents' chagrin.

Undine was certain she would have had more siblings, but after her mother's last pregnancy, the midwives had told her it would be for the best if she refrained from getting pregnant. Fortunately, being royals, they had access to potions that acted as birth control, but even that didn't seem to deter her father from being unfaithful.

Glancing at her husband, the princess wondered if he would be the same way. Seeing him interact with Elise confused her. He was very kind to her--not that she expected him to be cruel--when he could have disregarded her entirely; he didn't have to go out of his way to show appreciation. Clearly, there was some good in him, but he hadn't been terribly nice to her, someone he hardly knew.

And, now, she would have to kiss him. Her stomach was doing somersaults at the idea; in fact, she felt much more nervous now than she had been when she had had her first kiss. Of course, they really didn't have an audience then, and she actually liked the man she was with, even though she knew it was wrong. She wondered if there was some way she could get out of this, but one glance at her father's glowering expression told her the answer to that. It was tradition, and she would go through with it only because she had no other choice.

So imagine her utter shock when Keir found his own way out of it, offering a dance to the young girl standing in front of him.

He really must have found her repulsive, but Undine wasn't about to complain, despite the large insult. She could hear her father's chair skid against the floor as she pushed it back from the table, his heavy steps taking him over to her father-in-law. Their conversation was drowned out by the sound of the music playing, and Undine saw this as the perfect opportunity to bow out. It was as she was looking for an escape route, however, that she noticed the young boy had lingered, still standing before her with his pillow but now gazing out at Elise and Keir dancing.

Knowing he was probably feeling left out, the princess rounded the table and stopped to kneel next to him. Gently, so as not to startle him, she tapped on his shoulder.

He turned suddenly, brown eyes wide, but calmed when he saw the kind expression on her face.

"Would you like to dance?" she questioned softly, hoping he might agree. To be snubbed again by this little man would likely hurt.

The boy nodded, allowing Undine to take his cushion and place it on the table. He then took her offered hand, letting her lead him towards the throng of people. They stayed on the outside of the dancing crowd, and for a moment, Undine wondered how she should handle this. She didn't know how to lead, and she doubted this boy did. He was also significantly shorter than her, so even offering her feet to him wouldn't do much. Hoping to get some idea on how to dance with him, she looked over to Keir, only to find that he was dancing with some beautiful woman rather than Elise.

Swallowing thickly, the princess looked back at her own partner, finding that, he too, was distracted by someone else. His eyes were on Elise, who was now standing with a group of people that Undine could only assume was her family.

"Why don't you go over to her?" she asked the boy, knowing that was what he really wanted.

At least he was kind enough to spare her a glance before running off, leaving her very much alone. Feeling eyes on her, Undine thought it was best to get off the dance floor, turning back towards the table. Fortunately, both kings were still talking rather animatedly, not at all looking pleased by either of their children's behavior. She still had her chance, and she took it, moving towards the perimeter of the room. Eventually, focus would be back on the music and food, and she would be able to slip out undetected. Only a few paces away was the welcoming evening breeze, coming in through the open door.

 

[TheDarkScribe]

The woman grabbing his hand had not been his intention but Sagria seemed sympathetic to his plight, keeping him company as he watched the princess out of the corner of his eye. A small smile played over his lips watching her trying to dance with the boy but a twirl of the woman took her from his sights. And when he spun around, she was gone from the dance area, no where to be seen, a hint of guilt playing over his brain. She had been a rather horrid person in the temple but he’d not meant to treat her so poorly to run away, or maybe he had, now that he’d thought about it. He didn’t have long to think about it as his father came barreling around the main table, the princes eyes catching his motion to pull away from his dance partner and bow politely.

“What in the bloody hell do you think you are doing,” his father growled at him, fire in his eyes. “You are treating this whole event disrespectfully. This is important to our country. I thought I could trust you to understand this and abide by it.”

“I have,” he exclaimed, quickly looking apologetic as his raised voice brought stares. “I have. But I can only go so far. That woman was insulted from the beginning and wanting to be complimented from dawn to evening. It’s ridiculous.”

“Your wife,” the king corrected, glaring at him. “Not ‘that woman’. She is a princess of this kingdom now. Now stop being a spoiled brat.”

Keir looked appalled at the accusation, never having considered himself a brat or spoiled, he worked hard to be the best he could. He didn’t fight the rumors around court of what kind of person he was but he expected his father to know better. “What is your wish, my king,” he said, not holding back the spite.

“Go,” he said, leaning into the boy. He touched his son’s arm gently and tried to be patient with him. “It is time to accept this is what the kingdom needs. If you have no wish to play a happy couple in public, take her back to your quarters and consummate the marriage. Start things off right to give us an heir.”

Sighing, he simply nodded to his father and turned on his heels, walking towards the door to the balcony like a man walking to his execution. It wasn’t that the princess wasn’t gorgeous, she certainly was, but he had wanted more for his wife and the woman he’d lay with every night. It was silly nonsense, he knew, especially for a prince, but he’d read so many stories and wanted it so badly it made his heart ache knowing he would never have it. Oh, certainly some men at court would have a mistress in waiting to expel all that love on but, looking down at the ring on his finger, he’d given his word to honor her and keep their bond. It was sacred and he would not violate it.

Wind was blowing through the door leading out to the balcony, his hand slowly opening it and slipping though to leave it only slightly ajar behind him. His eyes found her quickly enough and he stared at her hard for a long moment, realizing it wasn’t her he was upset with but the whole situation. Taking a deep breath, he slowly walked towards her with careful steps, clearing his throat. “Undine,” he started, the words obviously hard to pull from him. “I’m sorry. I know I’ve not been my best I just… had so little time to resolve my thoughts around things since our fathers decided on this whole thing.” He waived his hands in the air around them.

Moving to the balcony, he leaned over the railing to rest his elbows on it, wind whipping at his hair to tussle it around. Clouds drifted in the distance and he thought he saw the flicker of something far off but the sun was bright overhead. “Our fathers have commanded that we are to go to my room and consummate this marriage. If you follow me, we can go back and do our duty. Or we can talk. I… I don’t think they actually check.” He reached up to scratch his chin as he wondered about it, remembering old customs of checking the bed sheets.

 

[romancerper]

At last! A moment to breathe, and Undine couldn't help the slight curve her lips took as she rested her hands on the stone that made the sturdy border of the balcony. The material was warm--the lingering effects of the unforgiving sun's rays--beneath her palms, and although she didn't have many views to compare to the current one she was taking in, Undine thought it was breathtaking. As night was beginning to settle in, there was a cool breeze, and the landscape was colored in all different versions of gold. It was quieter, less oppressive, out here; although, she could still hear the low thrum of music continuing back within the palace walls.

For a moment, she allowed herself to be amused by all this. Here she was, alone, on her wedding day while others rejoiced, and though her new husband was among the revelers, she doubted he was celebrating their marriage. Not that she could really blame him. She didn't want this either.

That was when the idea of running away hit her. It was a stupid, horrible idea for which she had no logical plan, and therefore, she wouldn't do it. However, it was appealing when she put aside the fact she had very little means of protecting or providing for herself. Where would she go? Where did one go when the world was their oyster? She wondered, and her mind kept going back to the sea.

The princess didn't notice Keir until the sound of him clearing his throat filled the air. She turned towards him, a bit surprised to see him out here, but before she could ask if he needed something from her, he apologized. His explanation for his behavior made sense; she supposed she was similar, in that she was too focused on feeling sorry for herself to really consider that he probably was doing the same thing. While his "compliment" earlier had rubbed her the wrong way--and she really couldn't see how he could consider it praise--she found herself not as upset with him now. In truth, she probably overreacted a bit, and that was mostly due to the fact she was looking for something to judge him with. It just so happened that the first words out of his mouth were used to compare her to a cow, even if he was saying she didn't resemble one. The way he acted afterwards had probably been mostly in response to her own reaction.

Remaining silent for a few minutes more as he approached, she watched him, a part of her knowing that that was not the only reason he had come out here. Why would he suddenly wish to make amends?

Consummate.

Ah. He didn't want any ill will between them so he could bed her peacefully. He didn't actually mean any of the things he had just said...

That was what was running through Undine's mind, her mood souring with each passing second as she gazed at him until he mentioned...talking? He had suggested they converse instead of doing what was expected of them, which went against everything she had just thought. Perhaps his apology was actually genuine?

"I would prefer to talk, if you are okay with that. I think it might make it easier for the both of us if we actually knew something about one another; I'm afraid my father didn't tell me much," she replied softly, knowing it was probably unlikely that they would be checked. However, in the future, the lack of an heir would be telling enough, so she would have to lay with him at some point, even if she didn't necessarily want to. Keir was attractive, but she couldn't imagine being that vulnerable with someone she hardly knew, even if they were husband and wife. "I do appreciate the apology, though. I could have been a bit more...approachable, and for that, I'm sorry. I can assure you that I am probably not as bad as you have perceived me to be."