𝔞𝔲𝔱 𝔦𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔠, 𝔞𝔲𝔱 𝔫𝔲𝔩𝔩𝔦𝔟𝔦 [cyrodilicbrandy & Agnes]

[Agnes]

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Stormwind Keep, City of Dawnwell, Kingdom of Nyr. Mid-day.

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"The King is dead; long live the King."

The crown felt lighter than he imagined. The Queen Mother's hands were gentle as she placed the circlet upon her son's crimson-haired head. Her voice was solemn, resolute, announcing the passing of her husband and the rise of her son in one breath - and the people cheered as King Arcus Aerenhall IV rose from his velvet throne in his first breath as king. A mere boy of nineteen in her aged grey eyes, but a man, a leader, a king to the masses. He looked the part too, with his tall stature - standing a whole head above her - and fiery red tresses and the maroon surcoat and cloak making him look twice as large as he was. In one hand he held his ancestral sword Tempest, a brilliant blade of a steel-bronze alloy, signifying his position as protector of the realm. In the other, he held a ceremonial scepter adorned with one of the crown jewels, a bright, opalescent crimson orb. Red, to signify honour, bravery, sacrifice, loyalty.

The midday sun shone overhead over the spacious open balcony on which the King was coronated. In front of him, kneeling on the aged marble tiles were men of importance; courtly nobles, knights, dukes, counts, barons, anyone worthy of holding land and title who would have sworn fealty to his late father and now, to him. Below the overlook were the common people, unfit to see the new monarch up close, resigned to proclaiming him from afar in the scorching hot courtyard. Soldiers, peasants, bakers, merchants, jesters, whores. People who would be most affected by the King's decisions in the days to come. But it was not them who were worried about his antics, but the men spread in front of him.

'As fiery as his hair,' the late Arcus III had proclaimed his son. Bold, brash, unrelenting, bloodthirsty, the young boy was a paragon of the values of House Aerenhall, and by extension, the Kingdom of Nyr. Long has it stood as the mightiest in their corner of the world, boasting an exceptionally trained and disciplined standing army and a long bloody history of war and conflict. War was all they had known for generations upon generations until the crown fell upon Arcus III's head. The man, peace-loving and soft-spoken, a cunning strategist and a shrewd diplomat, deviated from the ways of his forefathers and instead brought peace and stability to the realm. Negotiating peace with the kingdoms to the east and west, establishing trade routes and opening up borders, the late King managed to give the people of Nyr a taste of what had been long forgotten.

But the son was said to be set on undoing the father's good work. The two neighbouring kingdoms had grown exponentially in power in these three decades of peace. Nyr's standing army was a shadow of its former self, nowhere near the fearsome force of nature it once was. As a prince, he had long urged his father to conquer while they still had the edge, or bolster their ranks and prepare for war at the very least. The departed King had refused. Instead, he chose to reprimand the boy for his willingness to throw away the lives of his people to instigate unnecessary violence. Famously, the prince replied in front of the whole court that Nyr would go to war on the day of his deathbed.

His father took it seriously. His solution was to decree on his deathbed that the throne be withheld from his firstborn son unless he weds a certain bride he has chosen; a priestess from the Pax Aeterna Order, a group that echoed many of his peace-advocating views that had come into power in his reign. If Arcus refused, then he would be passed over in favour of his younger brother Cassius, if he chooses to marry her (or indeed any priestess from the order), and then the youngest, Lothric, if both elders refused. Arcus was not impressed by his father's whimsical ruling. Saddling him with a lowborn wife would only serve to damage his reputation, not hinder his vindication. Not only that; Pax Aeterna only accepted those 'blessed' with magic into their ranks. While well aware of their destructive potential in war, Arcus was no staunch ally of mages like his father.

And it was ironic then, perhaps, that the girl was locked away in her little room, having her own private little coronation and slipping into her pretty bridal dress, unable to look upon Arcus in his moment of power.

With slow, measured steps, he walked forward, his retinue respectfully parting the way to the edge of the balcony, where he would stand and speak to the kingdom as one. The long black fur coat trailed on the floor behind him, and indeed, when gazed upon from below in the blinding sunlight, his red hair shining and billowing in the wind, his sword gleaming, King Arcus looked a veritable giant to the common man. The crowd broked into an uproar as he came to rest his hands upon the gilded railings, and he let them cheer and jeer for a few moments before quieting them with a wave of his hand. Silence befell them, and a flash of anxiety struck Arcus's heart. Swallowing, steeling his mettle, he gritted his teeth, and addressed the people in a loud, commanding voice.

"My good people of the glorious Kingdom of Nyr, I am but a humble servant..."

---

The Courtyard, Evening.

---

The wedding was a much more private and intimate affair. The King had now forgone his royal paraphernalia; the outrageously heavy cloak, the ceremonial scepter, the ancestral sword. His tall frame was instead clad in a stylish gold and black groom's suit, complete with a bear's head lapel on his chest to signify his house. Two other men bearing the insignia, his two brothers, stood beside him, helping him get everything in order before the ceremony starts. It was taking place in the now empty courtyard where a small arch and altar has been erected under the orange evening sky. Only family and trusted friends were in attendance, and Arcus preferred it this way. No scheming nobles making veiled threats while kissing his hand. He'd had enough of that this noon.

Queen Mother Iolanthe and his sister Melanthe were busy helping the bride prepare. How women take the whole day to get ready, he'd never understand.

With the coronation out of the way and the better part of the day over, Arcus found himself thinking about his wife-to-be more and more. It seemed as if he'd be the last one to see what she looks like; his whole family had welcomed her in his absence when she arrived to the keep from the Pax Aeterna Temple a week ago. Well, what she looks like now, to be more precise. He'd actually met her long ago, when he was thirteen; his father brought him to the temple under the pretense of showing him the architectural wonders of the place, though now he realises it was simply to acquaint him with the girl. The meeting hadn't gone very smoothly. He remembered that she was a mousey, tiny, quiet little girl with a very strange taste in dresses. He said as much, and apparently, giving honest opinions was rude, and they haven't seen each other since.

If she was as weak and vulnerable as he thought she was, then he would have no trouble bending her to his will. After the wedding, they would have the bedding ceremony, and she would bear him a son to carry on his legacy; and that would be the end of that.

Suddenly, the voices hushed. She was here.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

The crown was heavier than she had been expecting, and sat awkwardly upon her head; a head that was much more used to priestess cowls and veils. Still, she did her best not to fidget in her seat, or lift a hand to try and adjust the crown, and as the priest bowed in front of her, his sonorous voice echoing words from Old Nyrian into the incense-filled chamber. Another took his place and dripped the anointing oil upon her breast and forehead - this morning Calista Vergier awoke a priestess of Pax Aeterna, and would go to bed as wife and queen. And through it all, Cali kept her expression neutral and calm, belying the undercurrent of anxiety she felt beneath her skin. From a young age, she had known she had been blessed - or cursed, depending on who you asked - of magic, and very quickly it was clear she would grow to be a very powerful mage. Given, then, to the Pax Aeterna Order, where it was hoped she would use her magic's influence to further the cause of peace, Cali quickly outstripped even her mentors. This was, no doubt, why she was then arranged to marry Prince Arcus; something she'd only found out recently. By then, all of the plans had been put into motion, and Cali could not have gotten out of it, even if she had wished to.

So now, here she was, Queen Calista - in name, at least. The wedding itself would take place soon, and even through that Cali was confident she would be able to remain calm as she set her eyes on her husband for the first time. Actually, that wasn't strictly true - she had met him, several years ago. He'd been an obnoxious kid, then, and Cali had been just as quiet and unassuming as she ever was. He made fun of her dress, she remembered that quite clearly. And she had heard things about the young man that he'd become - still, Cali was in no place to question her situation, her husband's temperament, though it certainly didn't help that the Queen Mother Iolanthe didn't have a serious disposition, and was more interested in drinking wine and making crass jokes about what Cali could expect on her wedding night.

And that was what Calista was really afraid of.

She was, like all members of Pax Aeterna - well, most... - celibate, and given that up until a month ago, she had expected to stay a maiden her entire life, she'd had no interest in learning or gossiping about... sex. And on the contrary, she assumed her husband, despite his age, was somewhat experienced. This was both a cause for relief and fear; if he was, he could help her, make her feel comfortable, for he would know what to expect. However, she'd heard stories of wives having to submit to their husbands, even when they were scared or upset - and Cali didn't want to feel used, not in the least because of the pain it might cause. But Cali was, on the surface, calm and placid - she had to be.

---

The Queen's Coronation was long over now, and Cali had spent the last few hours being practically fawned over by Iolanthe and Melanthe as the maids brushed Cali's strawberry blonde hair out to perfection. The dress she wore fit well on her willowy frame, the lace cleavage virginal and yet also accentuating her ample chest. The crown, still heavy, though Cali was well adjusted to the weight now, was placed once more on her head, and the gossamer veil was draped across her face. In the mirror, Cali saw a rather sombre looking young woman, eyes wide as if taking it all in. She supposed that was still the case - having less than a month to prepare for a coronation and a wedding would have simply overwhelmed some of her friends in the cloister, and Cali felt a rare flush of pride in having been the most suitable match. Though, it remained to be seen exactly how well that match worked out in practise, for on paper her and the King's marriage looked airtight.

Melanthe placed a bouquet of flowers in Cali's subtly shaking hands, and the queen's green eyes looked down at them impassively. She didn't know all of the flowers, a white ribbon tied around the stems, but she recognised myrtle and white carnations, both of which represented good luck, though the carnations also meant purity. Quietly, Cali took in a deep breath, and as she let it out, her eyes closed. She allowed a tendril of magic to seep into the stems of the flowers - a subdued glow surrounded the bouquet, rising and falling with the mage's own slow breaths. Several seconds passed, and Cali pulled the magic back, lest she alarm anyone with that display; not everyone liked magic, even if it were just an innocent display like that. Still, it had done its job, namely to straighten out her nerves, and when the swell of music filled everyone's ears, and she stood up, her legs were steady.

Two stewards pulled open the doors to her chambers, slowly escorting her through the hallways towards the gardens. She wanted to align her breathing with the glow of the flowers again; instead, she focussed on the rise of the violins as the music announced her impending arrival. And then, almost all too soon, the garden was open in front of her, the stewards pulling back and leaving Cali to walk to the altar alone. She would not stumble, she would not falter. There were not nearly so many eyes on her in this moment than there were at her coronation; she wondered if that was the first thing she would thank her husband for. She could see him, ahead, his black suit starkly noticeable amidst the white of the flowers on display behind him. The night air carried a fresh breeze upon the wind, and she had to stop herself from looking up at the darkening sky to gaze at the emerging stars. Instead, she stiffened her shoulders and walked slowly, but resolutely towards the altar.

Under the veil, her face was neutral, green eyes firmly fixed upon the carpet rolled out beneath her heeled feet. It was only upon reaching the altar, stepping up onto the short platform did she realise that her hands were tightly clasped around the bouquet, for she could feel the stems give a little within her grasp. And then, as if in a dream, she lifted her eyes up to look into her soon-to-be husband's face - though she quickly dropped them to the floor again, the apples of her cheeks reddening. His face had a strong beauty to it, with high features and naturally narrowed eyes - he was handsome, there was no doubt of that.

 

[Agnes]

The music heralded the Queen's arrival long before the woman appeared. From the doors of her chambers, through the hollow halls of the west wing, to the very altar he stood at, a path had been paved for her. A red carpet, woven from the finest wool, was laid out for her to walk upon, decorated with rose petals with a light orange-yellow blend; the colour of her hair, he was told. The violins started off slow, but as the music swelled and crescendoed, his bride's arrival edging closer and closer, Arcus found himself both nervous and excited. It was hard not to be, at one's own wedding. Kings and Queens often did not have the privilege of outwardly showing their emotions and Arcus didn't, but he gripped his own hand behind his back just a little tighter. His heart raced. The cool evening breeze kissing his face helped calm him down.

Finally, she appeared. He couldn't see much of her at first glance; she was covered from head to toe, but even from afar he could tell she had grown into a fine young woman. No longer the slight, mousey girl - the white bridal dress seemed to hug her at all the right places and accentuate her willowy, elegant frame. There was a slight stiffness to her walk - nervousness, perhaps - but she hid it well, continuing to walk resolutely towards him in a manner that was, by all accounts and definitions, queenly. Arcus was not one to believe in whimsical tales and wishful dreamings of the romance novels Melanthe so desperately loved, but at that moment, he would've been lying if he said he saw anything other than her walking towards him.

Soft as a daisy, she stepped onto the altar, turning to look at him as he did to her. The dim light of the evening made it hard to see her clearly under the veil, but he could see that she glanced up at him and quickly looked away, blushing. This managed to crack Arcus, who up to this point had worn nothing else but a depressingly neutral expression. In a very unkingly fashion, the corners of his lips curled up into a genuine smile, albeit a small one. It was endearing to see her flustered, and also relieving in a way - knowing that she was a woman like any other. It helped to ease his nerves a little, and although it wasn't visible, the effect it had on him mentally was profound.

Wordlessly, he gently touched the hem of her gossamer veil, and began to slowly lift it up over her head, revealing the features of her face one by one. First came her pink, pouty lips... then her adorable button nose... then her forest green eyes... and finally the strawberry blonde locks. King Arcus Aerenhall IV was stunned. Eyes wide, brows slightly raised, he seemed to be completely awestruck as he gazed upon her for the first time in years, mind churning to process just how much she's changed since they last met. Queen Calista Vergier was beautiful. Without even knowing, his hand glided down from where he held her veil, gently caressing the red apples of her cheeks with the back of his hand. Her skin was warm against his cold digits. He seemed to savour every moment of the touch, still wordless, trailing down the side of her face and dragging his thumb along her red painted lips before finally slipping off.

The man to officiate the union, an old Pax Aeterna priest, called to attention the small crowd of people gathered in the garden. In a melodic, sonorous voice, he began to speak in Old Nyrian, calling the gods to witness and bless this holy union, to give them good fortune and health. Through it all, Arcus stayed silent, simply gazing into his future wife's eyes with the faintest hint of a smile, though not so much that anyone other than her would notice. It wasn't until the priest had asked them to say their vows did he finally open his mouth. "Calista Vergier," he said, his voice deep and commanding, yet soft. "I take you to be my lawfully wedded wife. Before these witnesses of gods and men, I vow to adore and care for you as long as we both still breathe. I take you with all your faults and your strengths, as I offer myself to you. I choose you as the person with whom I will spend my life."

And here, the groom would traditionally end his vows, but it was almost ingrained in Nyrian culture to prove oneself to be better. Unsurprisingly, the new King took this philosophy to heart; he continued to speak, smile growing wider as he spoke his own improvised lines he had mulled over for weeks. "I vow to protect you from any and all harm to the best of my ability, to the day my strength fails me and my sword shatters like the stars. Aut illic, aut nullibi." If not this, then nothing.

It was funny to think that just moments before he had been thinking of ways to subjugate his wife when he was professing his eternal love to her this very moment. But in spite of himself, Arcus was surprised to find that he actually cared for the girl. Perhaps it was her stunning beauty, perhaps it was the endearing way in which she blushed when she looked at him. Perhaps it was simply pity, to be saddled with him for the rest of her life. No matter the reason, he found himself caring, and that would be evident, at least to her, from the way he listened intently to her own vows as she spoke them.

The ceremony was finally coming to a close. With both their vows given, the priest then produced two rings from a small velvet box, blessing them in Old Nyrian before handing one to Arcus, which he deftly slipped on Calista's left ring finger. Her digits looked tiny in comparison to his, something that would be even more evident when it was her turn to slip the ring on his finger. The metal was cold to the touch, but not unpleasantly so; he quickly got used to it, his mind on other, more pressing matters.

Finally, they were announced husband and wife.

Tilting his head to the side, as if asking for permission; then quick and light on his feet as he stepped forward, placing both hands on her waist as he pulled her in for their first kiss.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Cali's eyes were still demurely dropped to the carpeted floor, her cheeks flushed and contrasting with her green eyes, when Arcus slowly began to lift up her veil; blinking rapidly in an attempt to focus herself once more, hoping the red on her cheeks would start to fade, she lifted her eyes back up to the King as the lace rose, no longer obscuring either her vision or her face. Their eyes met, and in that moment, Cali felt as if she was alone with him, as if it was just an ordinary moment between two people in the midst of joining together for life. And then, a soft gasp rushed between her lips as the back of his hand caressed the downy skin of her face - his touch was light, gentle, in a way she wasn't really sure she had expected. Her mouth dropped open, just a little, as his thumb traced over her lips, and she was sure she looked like an idiot with her staring eyes and open mouth. She'd never been touched in such a manner before; nothing so intimate or exploratory, and she could feel her heart race in a dizzying mix of excitement and embarrassment, when the venerable Pax Aeterna priest called for everyone's attention.

Cali could feel her face redden again, the warmth flooding her cheeks in an annoyingly persistent manner as the priest began the ceremony, and the King seemed almost unable to take his eyes away from her, and she could sense a smile playing at the corner of his lips. This was a good sign, then, Cali decided; she had been worried, based only on her first and last interaction with him, that he would have been bored and shown her barely concealed disinterest. At the very least, it seemed that he was... pleased, with her face - Calista was not a vain girl, for that was something she had been taught against, yet it was still gratifying to know she would at least look good standing next to him in public. Her usefulness in other matters still remained to be seen, of course.

"Calista Vergier." The first words she heard him say since he'd insulted her outfit as a child, and it was her name. A chill ran down her spine - but it was pleasurable, and not unlike the verdant evening breeze. Cali felt her own lips quirk up in a soft smile at the sound of her name in his mouth. The rest of the vow followed, and the King pause for an infinitesimal moment before continuing to speak, the words off of the script. Aut illic, aut nullibi. She knew what that meant, of course, she would have been a poor study within the Order if she wasn't knowledgeable in Old Nyrian - if not this, then nothing. That, and the additional vow, made her legs feel weak for the first time throughout this whole day; for two young people who had only met once prior to this, and with her not even being of noble blood, could she dare hope there was already some kind of... connection? That was surely the best possible outcome.

Now, it was Calista's turn to speak the vows. She had hardy spoken to anyone all day, despite many women milling around her for hours and getting her ready for the coronation and wedding, for they usually talked at her, or simply to each other. Her voice was soft, like his, but carried in the garden with a musical lilt within each word. Unlike him, though, Cali hadn't prepared an impromptu addition to the vows, though her brain was running ahead of each word of the scripted vow, fighting to come up with something as equally poetic, yet genuine. It was a testament to her mental capacity that she had learned growing up that she was able to think of an addition and not stumble over the words she was speaking at the same time. Cali paused after the vows had been spoken, both for an extra moment of confirmation of the words she would speak, and for something like dramatic effect.

"I vow to love you in word and deed, to be a guiding light, a friend, and your wife, for the rest of my days. Share with me your troubles and doubts, your needs and your wants, as we travel through our lives together, with each other. Aut illic, aut nullibi."

Cali let out the breath she wasn't aware she had been holding; she couldn't help but feel faintly proud of the impromptu vow, and as she looked up at the King, her forest green eyes shone and reflected the light of the stars above within them. The smile she wore now was still shy, but it filled her eyes now, and the King - no, he wasn't just 'the King', any longer, he was her husband, Arcus; for all that was left was the exchanging of the rings. Arcus took the ring for Cali's finger, softly sliding it onto her finger. Her hands trembled a little in his grasp, and she hoped it wasn't noticeable, especially when it was then her turn. Cali's dainty, shaking fingers took her husband's ring from the small velvet box, and there was a moment she thought she was going to drop it and helplessly watch it roll across the floor. But, it seemed as if fate was on her side; for even with the subtle shaking, she managed to push the ring into Arcus's finger. Her hands then closed around his, the touch soft and lingering; she paused, eyebrow furrowing for just an instant, before letting soft flames of warmth spread from the tips of her fingers and onto his skin. It was like sitting in front of the heart on a winter's night, or holding your hand high above a lit candle, nothing unpleasant or damaging. Still, she didn't often use her magic on people, and to do so without explicitly asking them beforehand was even more rare. But he did not pull away in shock.

Husband and wife now, and the attendees stood as the priest's dry, echoing voice, closed the ceremony with: "You may now kiss the bride." Cali pulled back the warmth from her fingertips just as Arcus dropped his hands to her waist. The tilt of his head was a silent question, almost, but Cali was in no position to refuse him - nor did she even want to. Today - and tonight - would be a day of all sorts of firsts, and as Arcus's lips pressed against hers, her hands lifted to rest upon his shoulders. The kiss, her first kiss, was chaste, and to the guests might have looked a little awkward. Cali would have liked to have been able to think that the hardest parts of the day were behind her - as images of white sheets, a bare chest, a hand lifting up the hem of her shift all passed through her mind in quick succession, her willowy frame stiffened in Arcus's arms. With very little idea of what to really expect of the wedding night, Cali could only hope her new husband was as understanding as he'd seemed to be throughout the wedding.

The couple pulled away, slowly, as the guests clapped - a few cheers here and there, from his brothers, it seemed - and Cali's hand awkwardly bumped against her husband's as they turned to face the aisle. They had some time, though not much, to talk, before her maids would come to take her to their marriage bed, to prepare her. They still had time, and Cali wouldn't let her fears show, not here; so her lips curved up, the smile reaching her eyes, even as her heart raced within her chest.

 

[Agnes]

He liked the way she gasped ever so softly as he touched her face. He liked the way she blushed incessantly as he gazed at her. He liked the way she smiled bashfully at him when he said her name. And he loved the musical lilt that accompanied her soft, sweet voice as she spoke her vows. The words were the same as his, but there was a difference in how she said them; more elegant, so to speak. Arcus's stormy grey eyes, so fixated upon her emerald greens, seemed to twinkle as he hung on to every practiced syllable. He had had the chance to prepare his unique little bit, but as Calista would've been busy with other things (namely her hurried training in any and all things that came with being Queen), he did not expect her to deviate from the script. So imagine his surprise then, when she paused dramatically after her speech, only to continue own with her own customised vow. Lips slightly open, the King listened to the end, at which point his lips curled into a smile again as she cheekily tossed his own words back at him.

Aut illic, aut nullibi.

It seemed to have taken a toll on her, however, as she let out a breath after the whole ordeal was done. She looked up at him, eyes shining with the light of the stars rapidly surfacing in the night sky, the smile on her lips reflected in those hues. His own greys were similarly content, narrow eyes slightly creased as they too shone mistily like a gathering storm. The moment felt peaceful, intimate, irreplaceable - words he did not think he would use for a woman he had only met once before. Her hand was trembling as he grasped it, and he took a small moment to brush across her knuckle and soothe her somewhat before sliding on the little golden band onto her digit, pursing his lips with satisfaction as he tried not to break out into a full-blown grin. There was still decorum to be observed, after all. She was still shaking slightly as she took her turn to put the ring on him, and Arcus tried his best to be accommodating; small smile, a gentle nod to urge her to proceed. But then he felt it - a faint, pleasant heat that licked at his palm like the tendrils of some ethereal flame. At first, he was dumbfounded, perhaps a bit alarmed, but he quickly realised that it was none other than her, his bride, that was causing it. Magic. He hadn't forgotten about exactly what she was of course; he even suspected that she had to be some sort of prodigy, in order to be considered as a suitable match for him. His Father might've seemed mellow and kind, but he was no fool. Still, the little display did nothing to faze Arcus. In fact, he found it quite pleasant and affectionate, like a secret little message between the two of them. Exhaling slowly, he squeezed her hand tightly, as if telling her he was not afraid, that he accepted her.

And then they were husband and wife. The venerable Pax Aeterna priest did not have to urge him; he was moving the moment his newly-wed wife gave her assent. Hands gently holding her waist, possessive, protective. The kiss, his first as well as hers, was chaste and sweet. A simple touch of their lips, yet it felt deeper, more meaningful than could be seen. It was not perfect either; he inadvertently bumped his (admittedly) large nose into hers as he leaned in. But it was theirs, and as they kissed he found his mind wandering to what was to come tonight when they would give their virtues to each other, and found himself a bit nervously excited. Arcus was a master of many things; he wielded a longsword on par with his own Kingsguard; he was well-educated in the political intricacies of the court; he knew how to flatter and intimidate as needed; but when it came to the more... sensual arts, he was as clueless as a peasant. Actually, even a peasant might fare better than him. He knew Pax Aeterna acolytes were celibate, so he could only imagine his Calista would be just as helpless as him, if not more. Perhaps they could navigate things slowly tonight, map uncharted waters. Perhaps. He felt her stiffen in his grasp, and instinctively, he gave her a small, gentle squeeze to calm her. Lips connected, Arcus took in a deep breath, the soft fragrance of her gracing his nostrils. She smelled like jasmine and clary sage, with lingering notes of a heady incense, presumably left over from her coronation earlier. Her lips reminded him of candied ginger, with smooth honey underneath - mostly sweet and lightly spiced.

By the gods, he could become addicted to this.

Finally, the couple broke apart, slowly, to a symphony of polite claps (and a few genuinely excited) cheers from his brothers, and turned to face the crowd, smiles on their lips. The aftertaste lingered on his upturned lips, and as their hands awkwardly bumped, he took advantage of it to take another squeeze of her hand before letting go. They would need to mingle for a bit, introduce her to the guests as needed, before they could have a moment to themselves. The royal family came first; his three siblings were all visibly excited to meet their sister-in-law. Arcus laughed understandingly as they swamped the pair as soon as they stepped off the aisle. They were still children, after all... but then again, so was he. Cassius was suave and charming as always, and Melanthe was giggly and talkative. Loth was a bit more contained, but even the normally sulky boy was wearing an excited grin. Queen Mother Iolanthe came last, already noticeably drunk, though she did not make any crass or inappropriate jokes in front of the guests, fortunately. They all greeted Calista cordially and congratulated them, before sending them on their way to the other guests. Arcus patiently introduced her to every single one of importance; his friend, mentor, and captain of the Kingsguard, Ser William Landy; his paternal aunt and mistress of coin on his council, Princess Cerys; the heads of other noble houses of the kingdom; and last and most definitely least, Lord Deglan Myles, a man slightly older than Arcus who occupied a seat on his council and was head of one of the most powerful houses in the kingdom. Arcus did not like him; he was a pompous arsehole that strutted the halls of Stormwind Keep as if he owned the place. The dislike grew even more when the imbecile reached to kiss his Queen's hand, and he made sure to quickly move on before he could touch her anywhere else, his grip on her wrist a bit tighter than he intended.

With all that done, the two were finally afforded some time to rest their legs and feast and converse, and Arcus led Calista to behind the altar where a small table was reserved just for them. Gallant as ever, he pulled out a seat for her and filled her glass of fine white wine before he took a seat himself, but once he did, he sighed tiredly and subtly sagged into the cushioned chair. Without eyes upon him, he was able to smile more openly, and he did just that as he turned to speak to her, taking a sip of the wine. "So, ahem. You've... changed... since I last saw you. I, um," he pursed his lips, trying his damnedest not to trip over himself as he tried to make conversation. He'd just kissed her and married her, damn it, why was this so hard? "I... was very surprised. Yes." His cheeks burned. He was making an idiot of himself.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Cali had met many of the people congregated in the garden at least once over the last month or so, but back then she had been little more than a mage plucked from the Pax Aeterna - in theory, the marriage could have been thrown out the window had Arcus refused, and she would have gone back to the cloister with little more than knowing she was almost queen to show for it. So when his family practically descended upon the new couple after the ceremony was finished, she at least knew their times, and had been able to cement an idea of their individual personalities in her head. And her husband had noticed that slight stiffening of her body during the kiss, that dizzying yet chaste kiss, and the gentle squeeze of her small hand felt like a reassurance. This was something she especially needed when her mother-in-law approached them, having somehow already reached an impressive state of drunkenness, and Cali could feel herself stiffening again, prepared for the barrage of crass and underhanded remarks about the bride's physique or the wedding night. Thank the gods, for she simply congratulated them - a little slurred - before moving away. Now it was time to meet the others, a giddying barrage of names and faces; using the same focus she'd displayed upon the altar, she kept each face and name together, along with their titles and roles.

Each one of them congratulated her, smiles effusive on all faces; though some, perhaps, a little more genuine than others. Growing up cloistered, Calista would have been the first to say that she was rather naive, at least in social situations, and especially in one kept afloat with rules and order such as the King's court. So had any of these nobles been too disingenuous with their platitudes, Cali would not have been the one to notice. Thankfully, as the wedding service had been rather small, the names and faces passed rather quickly - she would definitely have to thank Arcus for that, assuming he had been the one who suggest a smaller ceremony. The congratulations ended with Lord Deglan Myles, who took her free hand in his and bent at the waist to kiss the back of it. It was somewhat disarming, but as the man rose from the kiss, his lips curved up into a smile that Cali couldn't help but echo. The new queen knew that she would need allies, friends, to support her and guide her through her ascension, and there was something artless in the lord's eyes that Cali liked. Before she could give a proper thanks to Lord Myles' well-wishes, however, Arcus's hold on her waist tightened just a little, pulling her away from the group of people. She looked up at her husband's profile with her green eyes, and for a moment was worried something was wrong.

When he drew her to a small, closed off alcove behind the altar, though, he seemed to relax, tension seeping from his posture; a perfect gentleman, he pulled out the plush chair from the small table, and didn't seat himself in the one opposite her until Cali had sat, her hands in her lap. It was as if every moment of this day was to be followed by yet another kind of hurdle; this was the first moment she was spending alone with her new husband, and she silently watched him pour the wine for the two of them, his frame sagging against the chair. His expression, though, was more open than it had been throughout the ceremony, the smile that had hidden upon his lips now fully in effect as he turned to her, his glass in hand.

Cali's eyes blinked a few times as he brought up their first and last meeting, until today, radiating a slight amusement. Up until now, he'd practically diffused confidence or at least stoicism, and here her was, the King and her husband, stumbling over his words like a teenager. That hit her for a moment - because, well, they were both teenagers, weren't they? Today was the day he'd become the king and gained a wife; Cali had just assumed that the eldest son would be the most confident, the most brash, in any situation. It was...endearing, to say the least. Cali's head tilted to the side in soft thoughtfulness. "...I'm not wearing a weird dress that you can make fun of today," she said, her voice musical and even a little cheeky, except that wasn't her intention, as she lifted her own glass. The sip she took was small and cautious - wine was a luxury within the Pax Aeterna - and it took all of Cali's focus to not wrinkle her button nose in distaste. She supposed wine was a queenly drink - if Iolanthe was anything to go by - but she would rather be drinking watered down ale. It was what she was used to, after all. Even if everything else in her life was destined to change today, surely she could keep her taste in drinks.

 

[Agnes]

The sassy little quip caught him completely off guard. Up to this very moment, all he had seen of his wife was that she was shy, soft-spoken, dainty and that she used to have a very, very strange taste in dresses, though the latter has long since been remedied, as he was so helpfully told. Her musical voice, beautiful and graceful, held a cheeky, amused tinge to it, and Arcus found himself raising his brows in surprise, at a loss for what to say, before letting out a confused, but still amused snort as he finished his wine with ease. "Well, I can see that," he replied matter-of-factly, grey eyes glazing slowly over her seated willowy frame, the white lace bridal dress truly bringing out an ethereal quality in her. Her little remark, strangely enough, managed to ease the initial awkwardness between them, and the ginger managed to relax a little into the conversation, less worried about making the first move now that Calista had made it for him. "For what it's worth, I do apologise for making fun of your dress that day. You looked... adequate, I'd say," he breathed loftily, carrying a tone that was every bit the pompous aristocrat that people expected him to be, though the small laugh that followed and the tiny smirk afterwards might suggest that he meant it good-naturedly.

"Not too fond of wine?" It didn't escape his notice how she was apprehensive about drinking the stuff, not to mention her less than queenly way of consuming it. The Queen Mother would be horrified to see her sipping it in miniscule gulps disgustedly. 'You are supposed to feel it, breathe it in,' she would often tell her children over dinner. 'Swirl it around gently, let it simmer and reveal itself to you; and then, a simple gulp, to savour the taste.' Of course, Arcus did not follow her instructions either; he just sipped straight from the glass like any normal person would. But, it was a small window into what Calista's life was, before she was plucked from it and thrust onto the throne of the mightiest kingdom in their corner of the world, just a scant one month ago. What other things would she be unfamiliar with, he wondered. Would she find the jeweled mirrors and damask gowns alien and uncomfortable? Would she find the aged halls of Stormwind Keep hollow, lifeless and empty? Would she find him cold and indifferent, just another face in a sea of stranger? A stranger she would share a bed with tonight?

His hunger now starting to make itself known, Arcus took a healthy bite out of a grilled steak before he continued speaking. The table had been laid out exquisitely for them; covered in a white and gold quilted cloth, with many delicious and fragrant dishes neatly plated at the ready. Marinated and grilled meats - beef, venison, pork, chicken, puff pastries and other baked goods, an assortment of fruits and tasty deserts, including his favorite lemon bread rolls. "I hope you've found your time here to be... untaxing on your well-fare, at the very least. I know my mother can be crass and clueless at times. Even Father got tired of her antics on some days." The King looked apologetically at her, knowing full well Iolanthe would've made plenty of risque jokes and rude comments to her already - Melanthe's retellings of their mother's loose mouth with the future Queen had been nightmarish.

Another bite, this time with a second helping of the expensive wine imported all the way from the west to help bring it down. With the last event of the day still outstanding, he wanted to have some liquid courage in him for that little boost in confidence, but not so much that he suffers from the infamous 'wine impotence', so to speak. Not that he had any first-hand experience with it, but best not take any chances. "You, um... well, this is quite obvious I think, but I still do want to say it. You look very beautiful tonight, Queen Calista." The compliment came out more jumbled and formal than he had intended, and instantly he felt that embarassment and anxiety rushing back to him, reddening his cheeks and ears to the colour of his hair, though this time he managed to not make a further fool out of himself. "You look stunning, Cali." He repeated. "Can I call you that? Since we are now... married?" A pause. "That was magic, wasn't it? When we were exchanging rings. When you held my hand.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Adequate? Cali's eyebrow quirked upwards for an instant, before she saw the amusement on his face that signified his description was a joke. Her upbringing didn't account for fancy clothing, or really any sort of luxury, though plenty of the elder mentors, especially those who were allowed to leave the hallowed halls, often brought back certain treats. She had grown used to a certain level of poverty and frugality, which of course included the rough-spun, admittedly ugly, cotton dresses that all acolytes wore; and so the sudden launch into literal royalty was dazzling. And even though she had tried to hide her lack of fondness for the white wine, Arcus had noticed the absence of enthusiasm; probably he was very used to his mother's appetite, and no doubt was brought up eating and drinking much fancier stuff than watered down ale and broth.

The food upon the table between them was arrayed neatly and all of it looked appetising, but as Cali looked over the dishes, she felt overwhelmed by the sheer amount of it. Her husband started to tuck in, clearly not fazed by the various plates. Her teeth captured her lower lip as her green eyes flicked from dish to dish as she put down the wine glass - she at least knew she didn't want to drink any more of that. As he spoke, Cali continued to deliberate. "I've... well, everyone has been very welcoming. Your mother is... colourful," Cali responded with an air of tact, before deciding on the lemon bread rolls. Her appetite was not exactly large at the best of times, but she erred on the side of caution - there was still the... bedding ahead of them, and it nearly tore her nerves to shreds whenever she thought about it. The less she ate, the better she could focus on that. The cake was soft, sweet and crumbly - definitely one of the best things she'd ever tasted before, and before too long the two she'd put onto her plate were long gone.

Cali was reaching out for another one, the tartness packed into the sponge was nearly addictive, when her husband complimented her; the words were a little jumbled and somewhat awkwardly spoken, but the intent was there, nonetheless. Her hand froze over the plate, her eyes lifting up to meet Arcus's own, her cheeks flushing. It seemed her skin was fated to blush incessantly all day, and the red contrasted with the green of her eyes, emphasising the mix of shades within those orbs. It was slightly gratifying to see that her husband was also blushing, and somewhat disarming, so that she didn't respond immediately when he continued, mentioning the small display of magic she'd emitted during the ceremony.

Immediately, Cali felt a flush of worry, her brows furrowing together as she dropped the lemon roll onto her plate before lifting her palms up in an apologetic gesture. Not everyone was excited about the prospect of a mage queen - magic used to be infamously thought of, those who were born with the skills were unholy, and cursed. Over time, thankfully, as mages decided to use their powers to fight back against the popular thought, and with the founding of Pax Aeterna, the anti-mage factions became less important. Still, with magic being so uncommon, most people went through their whole lives without seeing or feeling the effects of magic. Cali's mentors had labelled her a prodigy, having shown immense promise and power at a dizzyingly young age - and this sometimes scared her, not knowing the limit of her skills. So she rarely used her magic on others, and even rarer still did she use it without express consent. It had seemed a good idea at the time - a soft display of warmth during the moment they were joined together for life. But now she was worried she'd gone too far, or hurt him, or---

"I-I'm sorry, did... I didn't go too far, did I?" Her melodic voice rose an octave or two with the slight anxiety, the words coming out rushed. "I know some people don't like magic, but since you knew I'm a mage, I thought... I just wanted... I thought it would be a n-nice touch? Was I wrong?"

 

[Agnes]

Arcus hated his conversational ineptitude. Just when he'd managed to eke out a compliment that didn't sound too awkward, and subsequently made her blush wildly, he went and ruined in by the mention of her magic. It was obviously a dangerous subject for her and he could understand why; it wasn too long ago that magic was reviled and demonised, and the mages themselves shunned and relegated to the edges of society. Perhaps they still were. His father was the one to normalise magic (to an extent) and help combat the oppression and extreme prejudice that mages faced, so it hadn't been that long at all since being accused of magic was as equivalent to being given a death sentence. Arcus himself took a more neutral stance upon it. He knew well enough the dangers and horrors of magic if left unchecked and unsupervised, and to the common man, who was not afforded the luxury of a cadre of seven Kingsguard and thick, fortified walls, they might as well be the most terrifying creatures to walk the earth. But he also knew of their usefulness, both in war and in peace, and he would be a foolish king to shun them despite what they could offer.

But what Calista did - he believed it was simply an affectionate gesture in a moment of intimacy, like he said. Her refusal (or rather, ignorance) of his attempt at a nickname stung him a little more than it should've, but he chose not to push it. They were still practically strangers, after all, even if they were married now. Perhaps she would allow him to call her by another name later on, but for now, she was simply Calista. "No, no, no, you didn't. Please don't apologise." Knowing he had thrown her into a pit of worry and anxiety, judging from her voice, he quickly moved to grasp her hand on the table, squeezing it gently and running a thumb over her tiny knuckles. "It was a nice touch. I liked it. It was... really pleasant. I, um, I only asked because I've never actually felt magic course through my skin like that. I was simply curious. My apologies if I made you uncomfortable, Calista, I—"

Just then, the soft violin started up again, this time coming from near his - no, their - bedchambers, signalling that it was time for the final event of the night. The maids and other women of honour would come and escort the bride to the bedroom and prepare her for the husband, who would enter after she was ready. He had actually been quite excited about this the whole day, his interest growing only stronger when he laid his eyes on Calista, but now he felt unsure, his confidence from before having vanished when the question about her magic didn't go as planned. Before he could speak further, perhaps smooth things over a little better, the women arrived, giggling amongst themselves at the two blushing, awkward newlyweds, and Arcus found himself even more incensed and unsure as he shifted in his own seat, suddenly very self-conscious. Iolanthe chided him, hypocritically, that he should not be stuffing his face with food and drink when he had such an important task still left to do, but she was brushed off by her son with an annoyed wave of the hand.

And then they were gone, taking away his wife like vultures carrying away prey; Arcus left alone with his thoughts and fears. Sighing, he stood up and went to rejoin his brothers at the royal table, adjusting the golden circlet upon his head as he did so. "You're red as an apple, Arcus," quipped Cassius, the elder of his brothers. "Not a good look for the man of the night, is it?" That earned a quick glare from the King, who was absolutely not in the mood for his beloved brother's clever jokes. "We'll see how nervous you are at your own wedding, Cass. Do you think it's easy trying to talk to a stranger you just married?" "I doubt it is, but you seem more terrified than when you faced that huge rebellion leader when you were sixteen. Lighten up. Have a drink." He slapped him on the back. Arcus nodded dully, and drank his third glass of wine in one fell swoop. His chest burned with the warmth, and he could feel the alcohol starting to work its magic, dulling the senses and easing the nerves, making him more receptive to conversation, but even then his heart pounded and his body shuddered with anxiety every so often.

"And make sure you don't cower at the bedding. Loth has wagered me ten coins you won't do it tonight and I'd like to get my returns on a bet made in good faith of your abilities, your Majesty." Lothric earned a glare, and Cassius earned a punch to the arm.

"Shut up, both of you."

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Her husband hurried to reassure her, taking her small and trembling hands in his larger, slightly calloused one, his thumb running along the back of her hand; another intimate gesture, the caring way in which his thumb brushed over her knuckles combined with the soothing tone of his words served to calm Cali down, at least somewhat. Given the history of persecution mages used to face, and possibly still did in some parts of the world, she couldn't have helped the worry in her tone - of course he'd known she was a mage, but until that moment of connection at the altar, Cali had assumed her skills would have been practically obsolete in his eyes. And so she'd tried to make the moment special, and hearing that Arcus did enjoy it was gratifying. Still, she would try to remember to ask him next time, just to prevent any feelings of alarm. Her shoulders sagged a little with relief as the worried expression slowly evaporated, to be replaced with the beginnings of a smile. When she had been informed of the impending royal marriage, she hadn't expect to fall in love in the first meeting, nor did that even seem realistic, but Cali was at least aware of the start of something - even if it was an incredibly awkward something. After all, Arcus had been cemented in her mind for the last six years as an obnoxious princeling. just as she had no doubt he'd thought of her as a weird girl in the temple.

Cali had almost completely forgotten about the bedding still to come, when music began to play, interrupting Arcus's reassurance. Her stomach dropped, and she was suddenly very glad she'd only had two lemon cakes; she was positive a queasy queen was not a good look. As the maids bundled into the alcove where the married couple were seated, giggle, Cali pulled her hand from Arcus's grasp, her eyes dropping to the floor - the nervousness was back, but this time it was more than simply nerves; it was fear. The girls surrounded her and she followed their cues, arising from the plush seat and simply hoping her legs were strong enough to support her. The gods, it seemed, were smiling down upon their favourite, for the ladies took her along the empty, grey halls to the royal chambers and Cali didn't even so much as stumble. Until she got to the inner sanctum, that was, and she felt the strength in

her legs vanish, quickly stumbling into a chair in front of the fire. Still, outwardly, she kept up an expression of neutrality even as her emotions roiled within her, the girls unpinning her golden tresses and brushing them out, carefully unlacing her dress and pulling it from her willowy frame all while she sat still, like a china doll.

Calista was, of course, a virgin, like the majority of Pax Aeterna followers. Some had led different lives before joining, and some simply took the vow of celibacy less seriously than others, and so Cali had picked up flashes of knowledge here and there - for some it was the best feeling in the world, but the general consensus that she had picked up through her fellow acolytes and gossip she'd heard within this last month, was that losing one's virginity was a painful experience. She assumed her husband was perhaps a little experienced in such matters - after all, many of the romance novels that the girls in the cloister had to hide away featured highly sexed lords and ladies. If her husband was experiences, surely she should take that as a good thing. He would know what to expect, at least... and perhaps he would be gentle with her. After all, he seemed different that what she had thought he would be, based on his thirteen year old self; if he was as gentle and reassuring as he'd been during that small moment they'd spent alone together, there was no reason to be worried.

But still Cali fretted. She stood, allowing the maids to drop her bedtime shift over her head, her green eyes watching the mirror's reflection of the white fabric fall past her chest, her waist, ending at her creamy thighs. The ladies were whispering and giggling soft remarks, though Cali did her best to tune them out as she brought her hands together in prayer. One by one, the ladies slinked from the room, their duty done. All that was left was for the king to arrive. The prayer finished, Cali opened her eyes - one lone maid was still in the room, her expression patient. The two young women locked eyes - Cali's wide and watery, the maid's kind.

She wanted to admit her fears, to talk to someone who wasn't going to respond with a crass or disinterested gesture - but her husband would no doubt be on his way to the chamber soon, and she was already fraught with anxiety enough as it was. No, she just had to hope her husband was as kind and caring a man as he'd been to her throughout the scant moment they had shared earlier. Cali's lips quirked upwards into a tremulous smile as she rose from the fireside chair, the maid curtseying as Cali made her way to the large, gilded canopied bed. Cali pulled back the top sheet, silk woven with thread of gold in a dizzying array of heraldic emblems; a deep breath in, coming out in a low, shaky exhale, as the young queen slid into the sheets. The bed was lush and soft, much softer than anything she'd lain upon in her life, even including the last month, and she wished she could get comfortable, really relax into the bed. But as she stared up at the canopy, her forest green eyes wide and slowly blurring with tears, she heard steps approach - and her husband entered the room. Cali's chest rose in deep, slow breaths, every ounce of her focus expended in an attempt to relax her mind and body - but she could barely see the decorated canopy for the mistiness in her eyes. And then the maid muttered a soft word of departure, curtseying again to the king, and left.

Calista was alone with her husband once again, her hair splayed out across the fluffed up pillows, the loose white shift barely concealing her ample chest, the hem stopping above her knees. On the silk sheets beneath her, her small fingers took hold of the soft material - gods, she was so scared.

 

[Agnes]

What were minutes felt like hours to Arcus, waiting for the ladies to come back while he sat and tapped his foot impatiently against the floor. He took the moment to try and recompose himself, remind himself of what he was. He was King. King of the mightiest kingdom in the history of the known world, a prodigy with the longsword, and chosen of the gods to rule Nyr as was his right. Having sex for the first time shouldn't even be on his list of worries, realistically, but tonight, it was the foremost of all his problems. The fact that the women had come at the most inopportune moment and took her away before he could comfort her further added to the tension and complexity of the whole affair - he now feared that Calista would view him as both the obnoxious teen he was six years ago and the awkward young man he is now; both highly undesirable opinions for a wife to have of a husband. Cass and Loth, despite being the little pieces of shit they were, quickly picked up on Arcus's genuine unease and let up on ribbing into him, though there were still some very inappropriate comments coming out of their mouths as the King groaned and stood up to address and dismiss the guests.

It was a long and arduous affair, but a necessary one. He took the time to name every single individual at the small wedding and express his gratitude for their attendance individually - good thing he'd opted to invite only a select number of friends, family, and powerful allies to this; he would be stuck here all night talking until his mouth frothed if he was not selective. Even though his heart was pounding with thoughts of what lied ahead, he was still able to flawlessly deliver his well-practiced speech, and ended the little ceremony so they could finally retire to their homes, though people were allowed to stay if they so wished. Cass and Loth, at the very least, seemed like they would drink themselves to death tonight. Arcus knew he probably should stop them, being the head of the household and all, but he was willing to make an exception on his wedding day. Bad luck to refuse people joy on a special day.

Finally, one of the maids shuffled up to him and whispered that the Queen was now ready and waiting for him in their chambers. A small sigh to calm himself and a nod in thanks to the maid, and one last warning glance at his two brothers to remind them to behave and wrap up the ceremony as needed; he would most likely retire for the night after this. Somewhat languidly, he began to make the long, lonely walk towards the royal bed-chamber, his footsteps echoing in the brazier-lit hallway, whatever servants that milled by bowing to him as he passed them. He remembered when he used to run across this very hall when he was but a child to go to his parents, back when they resided in the room he was now going to. It was, of course, completely redecorated for his ascension to the throne, but it was symbolic in a way; him finally stepping into the shoes meant for him since the day he was born.

The doors creaked open, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dimly lit room. Only two people were left here, his wife and a maid who curtsied to him the moment he entered. Again, he nodded absentmindedly, thinking she would slip away surreptitiously as all servants tended to do. But this one spoke. "She is of a fragile mind at the moment, your Majesty," she muttered politely, gazing at him unflinchingly even as he turned with surprise on his face. "I would suggest exercising restraint and showing kindness to ease her." At this point, Arcus's eyebrows rose into his hairline. It was not often that servants spoke to a monarch first, much less to tell them to 'exercise restraint'. Did she truly think he was some monster who would put his own pleasure above his wife's comfort. Then again, he could not truly blame her - his temperament had a reputation of its own after all, and most kings weren't used to being denied, including him. "Of course," he acquiesced, no anger or discontentment shown for her small stepping out of line. Disciplining a maid's conduct was the last thing on his mind at the moment. With that, she curtsied again, and quickly left the room, letting the door close with a quiet creak as she did.

And then they were alone. Anxious, his eyes flicked to the bed, where he could partially see Calista lying on the bed, waiting for him. With a slow deliberateness, he slipped off his black overcoat and took off his crown, placing them neatly on the dresser. Long fingers unbuttoned his shirt as he walked towards the bed, undoing three so as to allow himself some breathing room, bringing into view a glimpse of his toned chest and a part of the large ceremonial tattoo that covered his left upper torso and arm. Closer and closer, until Calista's face came into view... and Arcus's own fell when he saw that she was weeping.

Because it does not do wonders for one's confidence to find one's wife crying at the thought of having sex with them.

Pitying her and perhaps, bewildered, the King shelved all his reservations for now, worrying more about dealing with whatever was bothering his wife so much. Was this what the maid meant by her being of a fragile mind? "Calista?" he called softly, gently sitting down on the soft, luxurious down-stuffed mattress and the expensive sheets she was so desperately clinging onto. Uncertain, nervous, he did what he had done several times today; reaching for her hand to squeeze and hold onto. Soft as he was when he lifted her veil and touched her cheeks, he reached up and thumbed away the small beads of tears that had fallen across her pale, rosy cheeks, swallowing deeply as he felt his heart wrench at those silent tears. Was this what it meant to care for someone? Arcus had always thought his marriage, whoever it was to, would be a loveless and cold affair, yet here he was, trying his damnedest to console her, even feeling guilty and worried about the fact that he might not be doing enough.

"What's wrong? Did... something happen?" Voiced laced with worry, eyes soft with compassion, he waited for her answer.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Cali had tried hard to supress the tears that threatened to fall onto her cheeks, but it was as if her focus was failing her when she needed it the most. The tears spilled from her green eyes, rolling down her skin, the crying silent - ladylike, almost. For all that Cali was scared of what the night would bring, she was still a thoughtful person, and she was aware that seeing his new wife crying in their martial bed would likely not do anything to help his own apprehension, if indeed he felt any. Her white teeth captured her lower lip, biting down on the flesh and reddening it an an attempt to remain silent, as Arcus removed several layers of his cumbersome clothes, and the crown too, putting it down carefully. Cali knew very little about royal life, after all, but she thought that being such a young king could be considered a burden, a huge weight upon such young shoulders. She was aware he had military experience, being skilled in combat, and he had obviously been brought up learning intrigue at his father's knee. Still, the old king's death had come a lot faster than had been expected, and her husband hadn't had much time to get used to wearing the crown before taking on all sorts of other responsibilities - like marriage.

Arcus reached out and took one of her dainty, trembling ones within it; considering the size of his hand, and the roughness of the pads of his fingers, the touch was soft and caring, like it had been throughout the wedding ceremony. Cali turned her head on the pillow, her misty eyes looking up at him and blinking away the tears so as to see him more clearly. Her other hand came away from the silken sheets and rubbed at her face - she almost felt selfish for letting him see her tears; this was, after all, part of her duty and she had known that for a while now. Back then, she had been so sure she would have come to terms with the idea of giving herself to her husband on their wedding night - but throughout the last month, barely anyone had sat down with her properly and told her what to expect. She had the Queen Mother to thank for that, with the drunken matriarch parroting crass jokes about 'performance', and 'staining' the sheets. Little wonder Cali hadn't been able to reconcile herself with it.

But Arcus, with the soft caress of his hands, and the gently inquisitive tone of his voice, seemed to at least care on some level for her state of mind; Cali took in a deep breath, letting it out and feeling her fingers curl into his hand to interlace them with his. As her husband's fingers wiped away the tear tracks on her cheeks, no more tears fell to take their place. She barely knew the man, and he barely knew her, and although her belly roiled with anxiety, she could almost feel calm seep across her skin, surface level at first, but it relaxed her breathing. There was a long, silent pause between his whispered question, in which Cali willed her voice to remain steady when she finally answered him.

"I'm scared," she admitted - her will did the trick, though the words were still quiet and muttered into the beautifully decorated room. "I... am scared it will hurt," she continued, and as the words left her mouth, she sighed; it was almost like a weight had been removed from her shoulders - her mentors had always told her that admitting something was the hardest part. Cali wasn't quite sure that was completely true, in this particular instance, for there was still fear in her green eyes as she looked up at her husband.

 

[Agnes]

The misty green eyes turned to him, and Arcus felt his chest constrict as he saw the fear in her eyes. The simple look threw him into a mental loop, stuck between pity and guilt and the fact that she might not even want to be here. If truth were to be spoken, he did not know much of the machinations his father put into place before he died, least of all the wife he had chosen for him. He had always assumed every woman would consider herself extremely lucky to marry into royalty, even if they did not like the man himself, yet now he worried if Calista even had any choice in the matter. Deep down though, he already knew the answer. Strangely enough, he saw that she seemed somewhat relieved after seeing him, after feeling his touch on her cheeks and hands. The dainty little fingers lacing into his own digits were proof of it, that he was doing at least something right. Her breath slowed, ceasing what seemed to be panicked ventilating, and as he wiped away her tears, no more fell in their place. This was a start... he hoped.

"I understand," he reassured her with a nod, his hand gently brushing against her cheek and cupping it, as a parent might soothe a child. The young King did not truly know if it would hurt, or be pleasurable as many men described it. His mother had been entirely unhelpful, preferring to make crass jokes about his duty to produce an heir rather than teach him how to conduct himself on his wedding night. Ser William wasn't much better either, only able to recount that his own night was quite boring and uneventful. Taught from a young age to be a shrewd planner, Arcus liked to amass as much information as he could, and for this, he only knew that women bleed when they lose their virginity. He could only conclude then, that it would be quite painful regardless, but he could take the care and restraint to make it easy for her and show her kindness when she needs it, as the maid suggested. Internally, he thanked her for her timely warning.

Sighing, he gave her a small, helpful smile, wanting to look like a friend and a husband rather than the man who would make her bleed. "I can take it slow..." he began, eyes travelling down her body, clad in a white shift that was a hair away from sheer, barely covering the soft swell of her breasts and the pale thighs. The sight of a naked woman was not foreign to him, but being alone in a room with one was - and his body reacted appropriately, though he did his best not to bring attention to the growing bulge in his breeches. "I can try my best not to make it hurt." Steeling his nerves, he scooted a bit closer to her face and leaned down, closing his eyes to place a chaste, affectionate kiss on her nose - she still smelled of that wonderful sweet and spicy scent.

He took his moment with the kiss, hoping to ease her into it somehow, to show her that he was no monster to fear of, but a husband who simply wanted to be with his wife. Had her perception of him been warped by the rumours surrounding him, he wondered melancholically. Aggressive. Uncontrolled. Relentless. Yes, he was all those things - when it came to ruling a kingdom. He would be a ruthless king, but he was a kind man, or so he liked to think. He wanted to prove it to her. Eyes still on her, he placed another kiss on her forehead, a quicker peck, and gently ran his fingers through the golden locks spread out on the pillow, gently squeezing her hand with the other. "And you can stop me the moment you want to." He paused, his own conscience waging a war with itself behind his eyes, as would be visible to her if she looked at his the way his lips quivered and his body stiffened.

"I promise to be gentle, Cali. Do you trust me?'

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Did she trust him? Did she believe his promise?

Cali was naive, socially inept but magically gifted, having lived a life of borderline poverty since before she could remember. She was the mirror opposite of her husband in fundamentals, and she, like many others, had heard stories of his temperament as a prince. Several people had hypothesised what kind of king a tempestuous prince would make - and then Cali found herself suddenly engaged to him. And that was to say nothing about the relatively scant and frankly gossipy things she'd heard about marriage. Pax Aeterna members were celibate, but as many were young, naturally one of the topics whispered about in dormitories after the lights went out was marriage, and what that entailed. Very mixed signals from the smutty novels some of her friends had gotten smuggled in, as they would sit in their nightgowns listening to the steamy parts with hushed breaths and red cheeks; long-haired and long-limbed ladies in fancy dresses were trapped in unhappy marriages, with a husband who cared nothing for her own well-being in the marriage bed. And yet, many of these heroines, such as they were described, found love, or lust, or whatever it was they wanted, from the arms of some muscular man. This was supposed to be romantic somehow; perhaps Cali was too naive, or too dutiful, to agree - it still meant, though, that when it came to being married, Cali had no idea what to expect.

Arcus pressed a soft, lingering kiss to the button of her nose, his demeanour patient, like that of a parent of mentor; it didn't escape her notice, though, how his grey eyes glanced over her body, laying on the silken sheets, and the apples of her cheeks flushed. She'd only ever been in such a state of undress in front of other girls her age, and had never seen a man in his own nakedness. Her stomach clenched, but it wasn't unpleasant, and Cali inhaled sharply through her nose when she realised that the clenching was followed by a subtle excitement. Subtly she shifted, the fingers interlaced with his own gave his hand a squeeze as her red lips curved into a smile. The smile was somewhat tremulous and shy, as it had been all day, but it was still a genuine one. There was something so earnest, even a little unsure or hesitant, about her husband's demeanour, and the very fact he hadn't just gone ahead with the bedding and ignore her fears told her volumes. Cali was still scared - she didn't see how her fears could be eradicated entirely - but she was calmer, now.

So she took in another deep breath and let it out slowly, as she nodded. "Yes. I.. I trust you."

 

[Agnes]

She trusted him.

That alone gave Arcus the much-needed reassurance to keep going, that at least she was not repulsed by him. He could not relate to what she was going through, but he did understand. Pax Aeterna enforced celibacy upon its members, and seeing that she had been there since she was at least eleven, it would make sense that she would be afraid of the concept of sex. It also made him wonder about her parents; were they simply peasants who abandoned their daughter at the temple doors once they found out she was a mage? Most likely, though there was also the possibility of them having suffered a tragedy with the little girl being the lone survivor, rescued and raised by the order. It was a bit unsettling and perhaps a testament to their differences in rank, for while he knew nothing about her, she would most likely know much about him. No matter. They had their whole lives ahead of them to get to know each other.

The dainty little hand squeezed him back and her lips curled into a shy smile for him, which he gave back in return. "Thank you," he whispered, nodding with relief to her quietly breathed answer. With a bit more steam behind his actions now, the young king slowly retracted his arms and climbed onto the bed at her feet, rising to his full height on his knees as he gazed hungrily over her vulnerable, barely clothed form. Hungrily, his eyes darkened and gleamed, but still, he did not give in to his more basal urges. His fingers got to work unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to the end of his forearm for ease of movement and... flexibility. And hopefully to calm his wife a bit further, seeing that she wasn't the only one who was showing any skin in the room.

Then, he crawled forward slowly on top of her, his knees bracing most of his weight as he placed both hands on either side of her, fully enveloping her form within his much larger one. He couldn't help but crack a little smile then, seeing her bashful, but excited smile as she looked up at him. "You have a very pretty smile, you know," he teased, just before he lowered himself down to capture her lips in a slow, exploratory kiss, not much different from the one they shared at the altar. This time, however, he was emboldened by the privacy and her assent, and began to get more and more adventurous, letting his tongue trail along her lower lip as he asked for entry inside.

His free hand, nestled near her waist, began to slowly caress up her down her sides, both possessive and intimate in its movements, going from the sides of her ribs to her waist, hips, plump backside (where he lingered for a good few moments), and thighs, even going so far as to tease the hem of her shift and lifting it up, acting as if he might venture in, before letting go and moving back upwards.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Arcus smiled back, matching her own. Cali didn't have the tenacity, or the right way, of asking whether or not her husband was also new to this, the bedding part. She had assumed that, being a handsome young man, a handsome young prince, might have had a dalliance or two. She now wondered if that was the case, but would that embarrass him for her to ask him about it? It was, perhaps, a question left for another time - after all, they had many years ahead of them with which to learn about the one another. Her green eyes, free of tears yet still shining with moisture, watched her husband as he climbed onto the plush bed - and when his eyes lingered over her form again, she felt another rush, a warm rush shoot through her body. She had not been taught that sex was sinful, exactly, so while that feeling caught her off guard and caused her cheeks to blaze even further crimson than they had done previously, there was no associated feeling of guilt; so when her husband worked on the sleeves of his tunic, exposing his forearms, she felt something like hunger.

And then when he moved forwards, his tall frame parallel with her own, he teased? Complimented? her smile. It surprised her, her lips widening in her shy smile as a mild breathy laugh slipped from her lips. She didn't have time to respond before Arcus captured her lips with his own. Cali closed her eyes, the soft, slow meeting of their lips reminding her of their first kiss, upon the altar. It felt reverent, almost loving, and her hand was lifting subconsciously to rest against his cheek, when her husband changed the pace. At first, when she felt the wetness of his tongue along her lower lip, there was confusion; her hand froze in the air, no doubt looking ridiculous, as her mind raced to contextualise it. For all of her magical prowess, she knew barely anything about anything else. And then she realised that Arcus was silently asking for his tongue's entry into her mouth, and her lips parted in a gasp. All of this rushed her mind in no more than two seconds - but she didn't pull away. Something like fire raced through her limbs as his tongue gained the entrance it had sought, and the moment that it brushed against hers, her hand cupped his cheek, her small fingers curling into his skin somewhat.

If this was part of her duty, she could get used to this. The thought was a cheeky one, inflamed by the realisation she liked the burgeoning intimacy. So when Arcus brought his free hand to the side of her body, running it up and down the curves there, it was almost like she couldn't help shifting her frame in response. His touch lingered on her bottom, and without even thinking, she arched herself a little to press back into his touch. The celibate, repressed young girl in her was quickly being ousted by the hungry one, and when his hand dipped to tease at the hem of her shift, before moving away, a soft, almost disappointed sigh was breathed into his mouth. Cali had no idea how bedroom etiquette worked - was asking him to put his hands on her thighs again too... too... unladylike, too unqueenly? As their tongues danced slowly with each other, Cali wrestled with herself in a way she'd never had to before. She liked his touch, the way his hands felt on her bare skin - but she had no idea how passive she was expected to be. Her free hand, the one not cupping her husband's cheek, dithered, trembling. Before her courage could leave her, it took hold of his hand, the one travelling along her form. She transmitted a single, lone pulse of energy - an encouragement, of sorts - as she drew it back to the slightly rumpled hem across her thigh. And then, she couldn't help it; a soft, almost imperceptible giggle.

 

[Agnes]

At first, Arcus feared she would stop him when her frame freezed in his grasp as he asked to enter her mouth - was he asking too much, too soon? He certainly hoped not; kissing was the most innocent of the acts they would indulge in tonight, but also the intimate and caring. Eyes fluttered open, worried, but there was no need to, for soon the ice turned into fire as Cali parted her lips for him and came to grasp his cheeks with her tiny hands in a sudden change of pace, seemingly inflamed by the slow, loving, reverent way in which he touched and kissed her. His inhibitions slipped little by little. The kiss was quickly deepened, his tongue finding hers and inviting it to a slow, sensual dance in the pit of their mouths, the feeling unlike anything he's ever felt before. She tasted... sweet. Like lemon bread rolls and wine, but underneath that, he felt the flavour of her mouth, and instantly Arcus knew he'd be intoxicated. The kiss, while exploratory and slow, was still passionate and needy, and Arcus felt his manhood begin to press urgently against his breeches, directly against Cali's barely clad body. The balls of his cheeks burned red, though he quickly pushed past it; there was nothing shameful in wanting his wife, was there?

And then, something unexpected - as he played with the hem of her shift and moved away, he felt something like a tiny little whine breathed into him, and Arcus reopened his eyes to look at Cali in both surprise and amusement, thinking about teasing her for it, wanting to see her blush for him again. But the Queen took the initiative this time as her hand took his, the one that had toyed with her thighs, and brought it back to where it was before, sending a wave of pleasant shock through his fingertips that spread to his whole body. It was not dissimilar to the way Tempest urged him on in the midst of battle, though it did catch Arcus a bit off-guard. But the intention was crystal clear, more so when she let out a tiny little giggle as if she'd done something very very mischievous. Lazily breaking apart the kiss, leaving both their lips pink and puffy, Arcus smiled down at his wife as he obliged her request.

"Do you want me to touch you there?" he mumbled with half lidded eyes, wanting to hear her say it even if the question was a bit redundant. What do people even say when they were making love? Just stay silent and stare at each other lovingly? Go about their business and talk about their day? Nevertheless, despite his inexperience, Arcus managed to improvise somewhat adequately, teasing Cali and trying to coax her out of her timid shell to be more vocal. His lips and fingers worked in tandem. Above, he began to place little kisses on her chin and jaw, trailing down her neck and going to her chest, where he softly nuzzled into the mounds of her chest, her shift not doing them justice in covering them up. Smiling mischievously, he gave her a lick right between her breasts, traveling back up to her neck, where he gently nipped into her skin. "Mhm... you taste and smell nice too..." the ginger whispered against her skin, growing more and more confident in his actions with every little moan and hitched breath he squeezed out of her.

Below, he slowly peeled her shift off her, hiking it up above her thighs and snaking under it, grazing his long fingers over her creamy, pale thighs, reveling in their warmth and softness. Slowly, steadily, he edged closer and closer towards her core, his stormy grey eyes holding her emerald greens as he explored the most intimate parts of her body, all his to claim. "You know... when I said you had a weird dress when we were children, I didn't imagine I'd be taking them off as well." Playful, yet also caring in his ministrations, Arcus took his sweet time in letting Cali really feel his touch, starting to kiss down her chest once again, this time not shying away from her sensitive spots, kissing her pert little nipples through the soft fabric of her white shift, just as his fingers trailed lazily along the wet lips of her pussy, coating them in her juices.

"You're already quite wet for me, Your Majesty." An utterly satisfied smirk accompanied that statement.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Cali, her chest rising and falling with the faster pace of her breathing, her skin warm to the touch just as her cheeks were, opened her mouth to assent, to confirm that by directing his hand she most definitely did want to continue feeling his touch there - but her breath caught in her throat as his head lowered to graze his lips over her soft jawline. It took a few moments for her to gather both her breath and her thoughts, and when she had done so, Arcus had travelled even further down, going back and forth somewhat teasingly between her barely concealed breasts and the hollow of her neck, with an exploratory yet possessive edge to it.

It was almost strange to be thinking this, but there was a part of her, in this moment, that was glad she'd had no sexual experience thus far. It meant, of course, that she'd had fear regarding her bedding when she could have been at least told the most basic things. But it also meant that she was experiencing this all for the first time, and Arcus had so far proven himself to be patient and caring, if a little bit teasing. She didn't want to think about what would be happening right now if her husband was a different man, a harsher man. So when he slowly pulled her thin, flimsy shift up and away from her thighs, exposing the creamy skin and those untouched lower lips. Their eyes never left the other's - green locking with grey, like the forest on a misty morning, as his hand slowly travelled towards that secret part of Cali's body.

Arcus alluded once more to their first and only interaction prior to today, and another soft giggle left her. Now that she was thinking about it, compared to the royal trappings that he woul have been already well used to at the age of thirteen, her acolyte garb must have seen plain and somewhat ridiculous to him. For her part, his attitude had been what had most stuck out, and even then, after they had left, she had probably just gone straight back to studying. She'd barely given the obnoxious young boy a second thought, even as he grew up to be a tempestuous young man - until the day she found out she was to marry him.

"Well, I never thought I would be marrying that teenager who thought it was appropriate to be rude to a Pax Aeterna acolyte," Cali shot back, her voice soft yet playful. It was the most she'd said to him in a full sentence, other than their marriage vows - she supposed they didn't really count, for they weren't actually in conversation then. Arcus's head drifted to her chest, his lips kissing her breasts through her shift, paying special attention to her sensitive nipples, which were erect and needy - she whimpered into the room, another sharp intake of breath which left her breaths in a sound she'd never heard slip from her mouth before, when his fingers slid between her thighs, toying with her outer lips - the moan being emitted from her mouth in tandem with her hips lifting without thought.

The blush returned to her cheeks, though most of the embarrassment she'd felt previously had long since evaporated; indeed, she even felt a little emboldened, as her hand first pressed against the solid mass that was his chest. For a moment, her heavy breaths audible now, it stayed there, above his heart. Then, slowly, as if trying to keep her courage, the dainty, shaking hand travelled further down, stopping at the top of his breeches. Cali's teeth chewed her lower lip, nervously, before she was able to even start asking the question. "May... May I...? I'd like... to, um... t-touch you?"

 

[Agnes]

All evening, he'd struggled to get more than a few words out of her, bar when she delivered her wedding vows. The most she'd said to him in one sentence since their wedding, and it was a cool, audacious jab in response to his little jest about her dress. For a moment, Arcus was stunned, eyes wide as he stared at her with equal parts disbelief and amusement, before snapping back to reality and giving her a cheeky grin that rivalled the soft, playful tone of her voice. "Well, to be fair," he breathed, continuing to kiss down her breasts, giving meticulous care to her nipples straining against the sheer fabric, "I was having a bad day and your dress really looked quite terrible. You should be mad at the seamstress at Pax Aeterna." He paused, grey eyes roaming expansively over the shift that was now becoming dishevelled as he moved above her, barely covering her modesty. "I much prefer this one."

For all his teasing, Arcus was not faring that well in concealing his arousal either. His manhood was now fully erect, pressing uncomfortably against his breeches, and the quiet, stifled moan his wife gave when he touched her folds only served to strengthen his hunger. Emboldened, he continued to play with her wet outer lips, trailing up and down with two fingers, lingering near her blonde bush to search for that little bud that would make her squeal in ecstasy. Thank the gods he at least knew female anatomy. It was new to him, however, and it was... pleasant, touching her there, having her squirm and moan underneath him. It made him feel powerful, in a way that was starkly different from when the people bowed to him as King. No, this was more intimate, and he realised with a small smile, something he would only ever have with her. His wife, his one and only. He still wasn't quite used to the fact that he was married.

The dainty hands on his chest trailed down, shaking uncertainly. Arcus enjoyed the touch, and the fact that she was no reciprocating his advances. She was no longer fearful of him, at the very least. Her question pulled him away from his current task, looking up to face her with a smouldering gaze that screamed that yes, he absolutely did want her to touch him there. A small nod confirmed this, and he decided to push things a bit further. Putting his teeth to good use, he caught the shoulder strap of her shift in them and pulled them down in turn, letting his teeth scrape by her skin as he did so, exposing her ample breasts once he had gotten the dress below her chest. Below, a single finger teased the entrance of her sex and slowly, gently slid in, making sure not to hurt her or scare her by being too eager.

"Tell me if it hurts," he whispered, if only to reassure her a bit further, and began to explore the innermost part of her body while his lips planted little kisses on her breasts. She was warm and tight inside, just as he'd imagined, and with a careful, relaxed speed he began to explore, sliding his digit in as far as it would go before beginning to move. Putting his wrists to work, he twirled the finger inside, making sure to touch and caress every part of her inner walls, paying extra attention to the little spot in her pussy that felt different to the others. Above, he kissed and licked her pink little nipple softly, using his other hand to caress and lightly pinch the other so she wouldn't feel neglected. While inexperienced, he was quite enthusiastic, swirling his tongue around her nipple and suckling on it gently, almost worshipping reverently as he tasted her. She tasted and smelled wonderful, just as he'd teased her earlier, and Arcus mused dreamily that he could quite see himself spending his days pleasuring her like this.

Eventually, he pulled away, letting her breast fall out of his mouth with an audible pop, sliding his finger out of her glistening pussy, now wet with her juices, and crawled up her body so that he would be face to face with her again. For a moment, he simply gazed down at her, a faint, serene, but hungry smile on his face, and pressed his lips against hers in another needy, charged kiss that would've put the one they shared at the altar to shame. Then, without thinking straight, he brought his finger up to her lips, gently dragging it along the rim of her mouth, teetering on the edge of slipping it in. "Taste yourself, Cali," he ordered.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

Cali lifted a fair brow, her expression outwardly unamused, yet the light in her eyes told him of her amusement. Her voice was quiet, but wry, when she spoke. "Actually... I measured, cut, and sewed that dress myself." It was a little white lie, and Cali's lips quirked up at the edges. She did know how to sew, but not to a dress-making extent - still, she was softly amused by the idea that he might backtrack, but more likely, he would simply double down on his opinion. Cali didn't know her new husband very well, of course, but she'd heard of his immutability for certain things. A giggle started in her throat, quickly overtaken by a gasp of pleasant surprise as her husband continued to explore her, pushing against that soft, small sensitive bud she was only vaguely aware of.

When he nodded his assent to her uncertain question, her fair cheeks flushed, and for a moment her hand stilled; asking for and receiving consent was one thing, but going ahead and actually doing it was another. Cali hesitated for a long moment, in which Arcus took the opportunity to use his teeth to pull down her shift, exposing her ample breasts. Against her skin, she felt the careful brush of his teeth, and she could feel her desire building, making the very tips of her fingers feel warm and sensitive. Cali, her breathing shaky yet not uncontrollably so, dipped her hand to the waist of his breeches, a slender finger tracing along the fastenings as if it was an entirely new item of clothing, before hooking it under and slowly undoing it, so as to allow just enough space for her dainty hand to slip between the fabric and his skin.

And then, without verbally communicating it, and as if they were one the same wavelength - which, later, Cali would suppose they had subconsciously been - their individual hands made their moves. A single finger slid between her moist lower lips, into that hidden, untouched part of her, just as Cali's own hand slipped into Arcus's breeches and trailed a finger along the hardened length she found there. She gasped - his finger exploring and probing her tight wetness causing a whole body shiver - and there had been a part of her that hadn't known what to expect about her husband's own secret part. It was warm, like the rest of him, and her curiosity got the best of her, triumphing over her shyness, as her fingers curled around him. In her hand, she could feel the pulse of his body; her thumb lifted, and by complete accident, brushed against the very tip of his cock.

Arcus's hand was very busy at work, whilst Cali was slowly exploring how he felt in her hand - he took his time with every little part of her that his finger could reach, and Cali's breathing now started to reach a slightly more whistling pitch. "It... doesn't hurt," she breathed, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around him. It was hard to concentrate on trying to please him, her usual focus she displayed when trying to multi-task nearly obliterated by the rising pleasure she felt deep within her loins, only combined by the way his mouth took in her pert, sensitive nipples. Still, her fingers slowly drew along his length when she could remember to do so.

There was a soft popping sound as Arcus pulled his mouth away from her breast, and a soft snort left Cali's nose, before it was replaced with a soft whine as he removed his finger from within her depths. And then he shuffled back up towards her, their eyes meeting again - Cali's bright and clashing with the red peppering her cheeks. Her pink lips opened, but Arcus took the opportunity to kiss her - and this kiss was deep and needy, so very much unlike their very first. Cali could get used to this.

But when he brought his finger to his lips, the finger that had been twirling and curling within her not so long ago, the sheen of her juices still collected upon them, she blinked, hesitation crossing her face. 'I...' This was such a lewd idea, unexpected - and yet, as she thought about it in those quick moments, she didn't feel like it was wrong. So she quirked her lips upwards into a smile, before obeying her husband's demand. Pink lips opening, she lowered her head to envelope the finger within her warm mouth, her tongue lapping around the digit. Cali had had no expectations of her own taste, but she hadn't thought the taste would be sweet, somehow. It was an interesting development, and her brows furrowed as she swirled her tongue around his fingers to taste as much of her that was on his finger, until there was nothing of that sweet taste herself. Even then, her green eyes flickering back up to him, she sucked upon the finger, cheeks hollowing, as her thumb, very deliberately this time, brushed against the head of Arcus's cock.

 

[Agnes]

The King was indeed renowned for his immutability - his own father being the main crier of this well-proven fact that led to others adopting a similar view of the young monarch. But in this case, he was an unsure, anxious boy, barely wed and now navigating a bedding ceremony that he was utterly unprepared for, so it was very much plausible he would pull back and apologise, not wanting to upset his wife, when she murmured that she was the maker of the dress, if he did not notice how her voice was wry and mirthful and how her lips quirked up in amusement. Arcus was terrible at reading people and the room, yes, but for Calista, he seemed to connect with her easily and subconsciously, as he would do so many more times throughout the night. And so, knowing she was jesting for the sake of banter, Arcus smirked and doubled down on his statements. "Then that would mean you are the terrible seamstress, hmm?" His voice, more so than hers, was filled with obvious amusement and perhaps a bit of affection, if that word could be used. If he earned a slap or a roll of the eyes for his comments - well, they were more than deserved.

While their mouths were busy spouting witty retorts, their hands were busy exploring each other, young, hormonal bodies moving of their own accord and following the natural path of desire. His lips curled up, satisfied, as she gasped in surprise as his finger entered her, interrupting her little giggle for an equally adorable squeal of pleasure, though he very much did the same when her dainty fingers curled around his length in his breeches and her thumb brushed over the tip of his manhood. By accident or intentionally, it did not matter - it was a sensation Arcus was completely unfamiliar to; a woman's touch really was unique, after all, and the effect was visible on him, closing his eyes and letting out a surprised, shuddered exhale that made him feel weak at the elbows and knees, his cock twitching just a little in her grasp, approving of the touch.

Hearing her assent for him to continue, Arcus kept on exploring the inner parts of her sex, his mind torn in half as he tried to both give and enjoy the pleasure. With steady breaths and attentive fingers, he pleasured her, his mouth aiding in the venture by teasingly flicking over and playing with her pink, sensitive nipple, which by the way, tasted quite divine. He did not know if it was the bathing soaps or the anointing oils or simply the thin sheen of sweat she's worked up over the course of their intimacy, just that he liked how she tasted, and he admitted so unashamedly. "You taste amazing," he breathed against the swell of her breast, pressed into the soft mound, and smiling with utmost smugness when he finally broke away and left her whining softly. He could get used to this kind of power. Not the kind where people bowed and grovelled to him, no - this was different. Feeling Cali move and shift and squirm with his every touch, it made him feel powerful, fuelled his growing desire and need for her.

It was with this sense of power that he offered his digit to her, telling her to taste herself. Imagine the surprise when she actually obeyed, even smiling at him before she took the wet finger into her mouth, warm tongue wrapping and swirling around it, lapping up the juices that coated it, brows furrowed in concentration, cheeks hollowed as she sucked on it. It was a lewd sight and feeling, to say the least, and Arcus's stormy grey eyes glimmered with the insatiable desire that grew stronger with every passing second. Her mouth felt so warm and... comforting, and he briefly wondered how it would feel to have her lips wrapped around his manhood, her strawberry blonde hair swaying as she bobs her head up and down to service him. Gritting his teeth and swallowing, his desire now apparent in the hard cock trapped in her finger, Arcus made his next move.

With a gentle nudge, he withdrew his finger from her mouth and sucked on it himself, eyes never leaving hers, revelling in the taste of her saliva, a flavour he was fast becoming addicted to. "Good girl," he breathed, accompanied by a tiny little wink as he pulled himself back to his full height on his knees, towering over the prone and vulnerable Cali. Then, to give her a bit of a show, perhaps, he slowly unbuttoned his black groom suit, every button that fell away revealing more of his toned chest and abdomen, lined with soft outlines and criss-crossing of scars he had attained over training and duels, attesting to his martial conquests, despite his relatively young age. Off came the shirt, revealing in full glory the large ceremonial tattoo that covered a portion of his chest and almost all his right arm. It was an ever-continuing piece, one that would be added to as he aged to chronicle his ranks and station. He first got a small bear's head on his chest when he was thirteen to signify that he was an Aerenhall, descendants of the great war diety Aerunhul, added to it when he was sixteen to commemorate his being crown prince and future wielder of the sword Tempest, and finally was emblazoned with the largest addition yet two weeks ago, after his father died and he agreed to marry a certain priestess.

His strong hands grabbed her legs and gently spread them apart, eyes lingering on the little blonde bush and the wet entrance of her pussy, like a predator eyeing up his next meal. Fingers trailed along her creamy thighs, going down to her ankles, which he grabbed as if he might force her to spread apart her legs and hold them up, utterly exposed. But he did not, and instead simply brushed along her soles and toes, and came back up grip her thighs, which he did so tightly. Just then, a flash of doubt flickered on his face, reminded of when she weepingly told him that she was scared of the whole thing, that it might hurt. "Are you still scared, Cali?" he asked softly, the implication of the question quite clear to the both of them.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

It was a very strange feeling, not just to be holding her husband's manhood in her hand, but also the power and the thrill of satisfaction that coursed through her as he very physically reacted to her touch. The way his breath left his mouth, shuddering and aroused, the twitch of his cock in reaction to her exploratory hold upon him - all of this made her want to do it more, to see more of his reactions. And so, in response to his amused retort, her thumb once more brushed against the tip - this time entirely on purpose. Her green eyes, the same shade as sun shining through leave, never left his face throughout her hand's exploration of him, and even when she had obeyed his command to taste her upon his own fingers, those eyes rarely moved away from his face. The building desire in them was clear, and Cali's already warm cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red as her husband's lustful gaze continued. Cali had, as far as she had ever been aware, never been the cause of anyone's lust, deliberately or otherwise.

He pulled his finger from her mouth, a thin thread of saliva connecting it to her lips before snapping, then slipped between his own lips, sucking on it just as she had. Cali watched him, lips parted just slightly, her breathing leaving her mouth in soft pants. 'Good girl,' he whispered, and Cali felt a flush of pleasure rocket through her lithe frame; if asked to explain the way those two simple words that dropped from his mouth so simply made her feel, she would struggle. To put it simply, she melted under the simple weight of those words, her lower belly simultaneously on fire and weak as her arousal reached its highest peak so far; she gave a murmured gasp, feeling her throat dry up as his words were followed by a cheeky wink. The smile she gave back to him no doubt looked dazed and perhaps a little goofy, but her mind was still catching up with that sudden rush of desire just caused. She wanted to feel that thrill again, but the idea of stopping to ask him if he could please call her a good girl again gave her pre-emptive embarrassment. No matter; it just meant that she would have to continue being a good girl in order to hear him say that again - and Cali would oblige.

Still, there was a modicum of mischief in her own methods, and she hadn't realised it at the time, but her hold on him had tightened without thinking - she didn't think it was too hard, for Arcus hadn't reacted negatively to it. Though he started to pull away, back up onto his knees so that he practically towered over her half-naked body. Cali managed to slide her fingers along his length as he moved back, then pulled her own hand away and out from his breeches, for now. Her eyes were alight with a hungry curiosity as she watched her husband began to remove some of his clothing. After all, it wasn't fair that she was the only one who was really in a state of undress, and Cali wasn't even aware that her front teeth were slowly biting into her lower lip as she watched him undo his buttons, pulling the fabric of his suit aside to expose his skin. And then it was off, and Cali was able to see more clearly, even in the relatively low light of their chambers, the subtle raised lines across his skin, his scars - and his tattoo. She couldn't remember seeing a large tattoo before, not something ceremonial and certainly not one that was well done. In the temple, one of her several duties was to aid the destitute - often, ex-slaves would find their way to the god's temples, seeking aid, for many of them wore tattoos that denoted their previous 'status'. This could be a barrier to decent, paid work, meaning many had little choice but to resort to crime or other unsavory professions. But at Pax Aeterna, no one was turned away, and she had seen many small, faded tattoos over the years. But nothing done with such skill as her husband's. Cali's eyes followed the lines, noting the obvious bear - no need to guess as to what that one meant. That one was the oldest, the lines still thick yet more of a darker grey than a black, unlike what she assumed was the most recent one. It was almost like a living tapestry, and one day she would have to ask him to stay still so that she could look at all of the details properly.

In this moment, though, even as her eyes were still taking in his broad, naked chest, Arc's strong hands took hold of her thighs, and Cali blinked, eyes lifting back to her husband's face. His eyes, though, were firmly fixed upon her thighs and pussy, taking them in, much the same as she assumed she had been looking at his scars and tattoo. At first, she wondered if he lift her legs up so that they were closer to vertical than horizontal - however, his fingers simply trailed down the creamy skin, light as a feather, and Cali shivered softly. His touch was still light when he reached the soles of her feet, and her toes clenched a little at the tickling feeling, before his hands slid back up. He paused then, something flickering in his expression, and Cali's head tilted slightly on the pillow, strawberry blonde curls splayed out in disarray.

"Are you still scared, Cali?"

Was she? Her tears had all but vanished, and the way he had touched her and spoken to her upon this bed had melted away her physical tension; in fact, she was now very much aroused. And that was all very well and good, but arousal alone didn't consummate the marriage. She wondered if it would be easier... for him to enter her, with how wet she was, and if that was why so many women recounted their first nights with distaste or even horror; perhaps their lovers were not as attentive or caring. And it was endearing that he, still, stopped to ask. Cali's rosy lips curved into a smile, reaching her eyes and making them almost sparkle in the candlelight, as she used an arm to lift herself up so that she was closer to his face. Now it was her turn to pause, taking in a subtle deep breath, before she brought her free hand up to press against his chest, fingers resting over the tattoo'd bear. She lifted her face, the smile still bright, as she shook her head. 'No,' she answered truthfully. 'No, I'm not scared - not anymore.' Cali dipped her head, lips brushing over his chest, before she slowly let herself fall back on the bed, looking back up at him again.

 

[Agnes]

Arcus quite liked the way Cali's eyes lingered on his body, the same way his did on hers. Unlike her, the young King was well familiar with attraction between opposing sexes - the result of being royalty destined to marry at the earliest age and not being raised in a cloistered sanctuary where people were expected to be celibate - but the fact that she seemed to want him, as a man, as her husband, filled him with a strangely unique sense of satisfaction. Many times he had felt eyes on him, be it that of a simple maid or a noblewoman, or one of Ser Landy's daughters, but they could not compare to having his own wife's forest green hues glaze upon his tattooed chest. Perhaps it was strange to tell one's tale upon one's own skin; Arcus had never actually questioned tradition. Nyrians Kings often had their lives immortalised in tapestries and tomes only after their death, and in life, they carried their tales upon their selves. But now, seeing the effect the ink had upon Cali in mesmerising her, Arcus found a better use for the tattoos than simply being pretty decorative pieces.

So it was with this confidence in his skin that he proceeded to explore more and more of her, though doubts began to resurface once he was on the verge of actually claiming her, hence the voiced question. Just moments before, she had seemed terrified of him, but now she looked at him with lust, if he dared to say, that mirrored his own, and her subtle, elegant way of giving affirmation reflected that. He felt a bit silly, upright on his knees and holding her legs while she tilted her head and looked at him through a bed of blonde hair like he was posing a great philosophical question. But then her lips cracked into a smile, and his did too, easing away the tension that had quickly built up in his throat. She lifted herself on an arm and he let up his grip on her thighs to let her move a bit more freely, the smile widening ever so slightly as she brushed her hand upon the tattooed bear. Father would be proud of them for keeping mind of the family crest even during sex. The softly whispered answer was to his ears what an an oasis would be to a weary traveler, and as she kissed his chest and fell back onto the pillow, Arcus gave her a bright, mischievous smile that rivalled her own.

"I'm glad."

He grabbed her thighs again, a bit more strongly this time, emboldened and a tad bit possessive, and parted them so he could align his manhood with the wet nether lips that he has been lusting after since they got into the bed together. His tip barely brushed against her wetness, and even that was overwhelming to the inexperienced young man, evident in the way his teeth caught his lips to rein in a pleasured breath. "I... I'll take it slow, like I promised," he reassured her, and in a way, himself, and after taking a final breath to steel his nerves, started to push into her virginal sex, claiming her maidenhead and giving his own virginity in a moment that would mark their marriage as consummated. Like most boys, he had imagined and fantasized about his first time making love to a woman, his wife, but imagination did not do justice to reality, and the reality was that, while it was strange and perhaps overwhelming, it felt amazing. Cali was unbelievably tight and warm, tighter than he had imagined, and for a moment Arcus worried that he might hurt her, if not for how slick she was. With how her walls squeezed around him with every pulse, Arcus worried he might not even last adequately to satisfy her. Taking slow, deep breaths to focus himself, he made the slow, steady push until he bottomed out on her, his hips touching hers.

Here, he stopped, wanting to give both of them a moment to regain their breaths and adjust, for he imagined it must be very strange to have something penetrate one's body. Lazily, his hands searched for Cali's, and after finding them, squeezed down with a breathless, but excited smile. But then his eyes fliced to where their bodies were connected, his heart skipped several beats and his stomach churned as he saw small specks of blood dotting the luxurious bedsheets. Immediately, Arcus tensed up, thinking he had hurt her, and his eyes glided uncertainly back to hers, needing both her approval and affirmation that she was okay.

 

[cyrodilicbrandy]

The two newlyweds smiled at each other as Cali allayed her husband's fears, another moment of connection between the two that was more than the physical. Cali was glad, and she couldn't help but think, not for the first time, of how handsome Arcus was, and the smiles he had elicited throughout their evening only made him more so. As his hands once more took hold of her thighs, this time a little stronger of a grasp than before, though not painful or uncomfortable, Cali knew that she would enjoy making him smile again. Her chest rose and fell slowly as she took in a deep breath, Arcus's slow yet steady alignment causing the tip of his cock to press gently against her, and the exhale shook in her throat. Her husband quietly reiterated his promise, and the earnest, if subtly excited, look in his eyes made her heart feel as if it did a backflip in her chest.

"I know you will," Cali breathed, the words almost silent - and then Arcus pushed forwards, slowly but with purpose. Her first, immediate thought, was how strange it felt, almost invasive, and even as her body willingly opened itself up for him, there was an instant of resistance, just an instant, and a feeling that Cali could only equate to a sting. She hissed softly through her teeth, brows furrowing for a moment... and then it was over, and Arcus continued to slide deeper into her. Her pussy, wet from his attentions earlier, was all too eager to accommodate him, and although the physical sensation of his manhood within her was entirely new, it was nowhere near unpleasant. Indeed, as her inner walls made space for him, before practically closing down around his length, a full-body shiver coursed through Cali's dainty frame, and her green eyes, wide and almost sparkling, looked up at her husband with something like wonder.

That was it, she thought, the moment I had been so terrified of since I learned I was to be married? I worried and worried for a month for that small moment of discomfort? But she was glad that was all she had been worried about - now she could really focus on the love-making, on him - her husband. Her lips, pink and plump, widened into another smile as his larger, calloused hands searched for her own small, soft ones. There were no words, at least not in this moment, as to how grateful she was that he was allowing her this moment to get used to his intrusion, and she could feel her green eyes mist up somewhat as she stared up at the man she had just given that so precious thing to. Cali couldn't imagine exactly what he was feeling, though the excitement and flush upon his cheeks told her some of it - but it would have been easy, and even natural, for him to have continued on without assuring her own comfort. For a few moments longer, the two of them stayed like that, his hips connected skin to skin with hers, the heat of him filling her, before his eyes travelled down. They were so close that Cali could feel the tenseness in his frame, the uncertainty in his grey eyes as he looked back up at her.

Of course, Cali couldn't see what he had seen for herself, though she wondered if, like most virgins, she had started to bleed - another wave of something she would later know to be affection swept over her, taking in his worried expression. Though Cali's own experience in sex was, up until now, exactly nothing, she had heard varying different tales of first nights from several different people. Some were indifferent to it, for it was just assumed that the bleeding was completely natural, regardless of the disposition of the partner. For some, it had been a horrifying experience, and it was these stories that had done so much to make Cali worried about tonight. And yet, there had only been that one, sharp moment, instead of the constant pain that many others had described, and she wondered what stories Arc himself had heard. Did he think that all women bled when they lost their virginity? Or was bleeding a sign of actual pain, or an indication of a bad lover? Regardless, it was the concern in his eyes for her that made her almost melt into the bed, and as she looked up at her husband, she smiled, the lips curving, soft, genuine.

"I'm fine, Arcus," she whispered, green eyes lit with earnestness. She was trying to reassure him, of course, and yet it was simply the truth - if they set a precedent for worrying about the very smallest amount of pain, they would never be able to stop worrying about anything. "I really am." A soft chuckle followed these words, her own small hands squeezing his back. "You've kept your promise so far, my husband - and it... you..." Here, the new queen's cheeks flushed red, briefly looking away from him like she did when she first set her eyes upon him on the wedding altar, before flicking them back up to his face. "I like... how you feel..." Was it hot in here, or was Cali just blushing so hard - it was strange, to be so openly candid in a sexual manner. She followed it with a soft, almost shy request, innocent and demure: "...kiss me?"

 

[Agnes]

It was not that Arcus was clueless about the possibilities that may occur during sex, virginal bleeding being one of them; in fact, it was taught to him quite early on that he should be worried if his newly wedded wife did not bleed when he claims her. No, it was simply the fear that he might've hurt her in some way, combined with the unnerving feeling of seeing blood in what was supposed to be an intimate moment. He was used to seeing blood flow from a cut wound or an executed deserter's neck, but not from a feminine frame. But it seemed his wife was the more sensible and prepared of the two, as beyond the initial soft hiss of pain, she showed no signs of discomfort nor frigidness, even reaching to squeeze his hands and assure him somewhat amusedly that she was okay. Sheepishly, Arcus smiled back and nodded, the sincerity in those beautiful emerald eyes helping to calm his nerves. "Good... I'm new to this, if it wasn't terribly obvious," he jested in self-deprecating humour, a little bit of sweetness to cut through the thick tension that had formed in the room.

For a quick moment, it seemed as if their personalities had switched - him the uncertain ingenue and her the patient instigator, but the flush returned to her cheeks as she looked away shyly and muttered bashfully that he had held up his promise (and which point Arcus smiled proudly and nodded to himself with satisfaction, for he had feared he would be a harsh, inconsiderate lover) and that she liked how he felt. The statement sent both of them blushing red as apples, perhaps Cali more so than Arcus, and the young King's whole face burned at the unexpected compliment. As far as expectations for tonight went, he could clearly decide that they had exceeded them - Arcus had expected beforehand that he would be making love to a timid woman without barely any semblance of intimacy or affection between them; maybe a few dozen thrusts before they rolled over and went to sleep. Making her taste herself, the kissing, the teasing, the shy but open candidness of both of their desires - none of these were part of the agenda.

So of course, Arcus considered himself a happy, lucky man. Her shy and innocent request was met with a raised brow that betrayed that he was pleasantly surprised, before his countenance changed to that akin of a merchant given a particularly lucrative deal. Softly smiling a smile that hinted at his excitement beneath those grey eyes, the ginger nodded gingerly and leant forward so that he was on top of her, their faces aligned perfectly as was their conjoined hips, his hands supporting his weight against the plush down mattress so he wouldn't crush her comparatively tiny body. "You feel so wonderful as well, Cali," he breathed, brushing his lips and nose against her own in a lazy, yet affectionate fashion, eyes closed contently as he took in her warmth. "I didn't expect you'd be so... uhm, warm? ...and tight?" He cringed at the absurdity of his own words. He was absolutely sure bedroom talk wasn't supposed to make his wife cringe, much less himself. "Sorry. I'll get better at... wording things. Promise."

It was a good thing he had checked all of his pride and ego at the door when he came into their bed chambers. Finally, without any more fanfare and poorly worded attempts at talking sexily, he pressed his lips against hers for another kiss, this one a precursor to the pleasure that would come to both of them when his hips started moving soon after. Both his tongue and hips moved slowly, patiently, the former searching for her own to dance in the ballroom that was the warm pit of their mouths, and the latter taking care to slowly and steadily build up the pace with which he slid in and out of her tight, wet folds. She had told him she was fine so there wasn't anything to be worried about, but Arcus still took his time, believing the journey should be enjoyed as much as, if not more than, the destination.

His whole being was rocked to the core every time her walls squeezed around him or whenever she made a little touch on his body, and every so often, he exhaled deeply against her skin and shuddered, betraying the immense pleasure he felt and the almost uncontrollable lust he had built up for his wife. He dared to open his eyes again after a few moments of slow kissing and fucking, and temporarily breaking from the kiss, he whispered as a warning, "I'm going to move faster now... is that alright?" His hand found her exposed breast, cupping it possessively and squeezing it gently, his body starting to give in to the building desire and shedding the decorum and pretences that held them back from fully enjoying each other. The thrusts came faster now, helped along by the generous coating of juices her pussy had slathered around his cock, and the hitherto quiet, peaceful room began to be filled with the soft sounds of flesh meeting flesh and the pair's quiet, but quickly loudening pants and moans of pleasure. "Cali..." he called her name, almost a prayer upon his lips, and kissed her again fervently as he began to fuck her well and truly.