Thread: Taming the Bride (Prince & darkest_fate)

Ish a most happy day... yer majesty. Aric Ulffson scowled at the priest, really amazed more than angry at his idiocy in making the comment. The man stunk of wine even though it was only late afternoon. Despite a wide stance, he was also swaying irregularly, threatening to topple over at any moment. Clearly, to say that Aric had neglected the priesthood was an understatement. All the pious ones had fled years earlier when he'd seized the crown, no doubt in terror at the rumors of the new King's depravities and vices. The ones that had remained were either stupid, drunken, or perverse. This high septon, who had been dragged from his bed an hour earlier, was likely an unholy combination of all three failings. Fool, just keep this farce of a ceremony short, Aric hissed. The thought of the upcoming wedding forced a bitter chuckle out of the tall man. Settling down and taking a wife was the latest frustration for him it seemed. He had been a warrior since his youth and after almost fifteen years of non-stop fighting and conquests, his lanky frame was still better suited to combat than court life. Battles were what he lived for, the thrill of death and the sweet exultation of conquering your enemy. And then he'd finally won the prize he'd always dreamed of overthrowing the former King whose weak leadership had split the Kingdom into civil war. And now, victorious, a crown on his head and a throne under his ass, Aric should be happy. But instead, he had found being a King in peace time quite a disappointment. Boring in fact. Thank god for whores, hunting and drinking. Aric's hand went to the pommel of his sword by habit, fingers squeezing that cold steel in impatience as his light blue eyes flicked over the crowd seated in the chapel. He'd played along and dressed himself for the occasion, wearing a fine red surcoat with his rampant eagle and fox arms emblazoned across the front. His beard had been trimmed and even his disheveled, long dark brown hair was brushed, pulled back and neatly tied. A simple gold circlet rested on his head as he detested the gaudy ceremonial crown that state functions usually dictated. The difference from Aric's normal appearance was striking, at least to the loyal retainers in the audience who knew him all too well. The king usually had a thick beard and hanging locks, which conspired to hide the almost delicate and high boned features of his face. This low bred King also eschewed fine clothing and typically wore hunting leathers and carried his trusty battle nicked sword. A visiting dignitary had more than once mistook him for a huntsman roaming the palace, although Aric would sharply correct them. In these gaudy clothes he chafed, not able to shake the thought that many of his retainers would laugh if they saw him primped up like a courtier who didn't know which end of a sword to grab. Damn it, he was a warrior not a peacock! Aric had been poised to launch yet another war, his grandest yet, before his plans fell to shit. Over four thousand troops had gathered this Spring in preparation to invade a neighboring, smaller Kingdom. He'd been plotting it since he won his crown. Months, maybe years, of fighting, looting and conquest. And the fucking... enjoying his enemy's women after battle was always the sweetest reward. This Kingdom he coveted would be an easy prize a soft and peaceful land known for music and wine. They already started to sue for peace before he even fired an arrow! But in a crushing blow, a damned and cruel peace had been brokered by meddling lords from a much larger country that bordered them both. Aric was to wed the rival King's daughter, his only child. If she produced a male heir, their son would inherit her Kingdom as well as Aric's. His line would unify the two lands and everyone thought he should be pleased at a victory where the only blood spilled would be the maidenhood of a Princess. But he had grown to loathe this paper victory, regretting accepting it even now as he stood at the altar waiting for his bride. All he had wanted was to just campaign again and he truly didn't give a damn about more lands, genuflecting nobles and spoiled Princesses! What is taking this stupid brat so long? he grumbled to himself. Two dozen heads turned and Aric realized he'd spoken louder than he had intended. His own retainers were grinning, but the bride's retinue looked horrified. A wink towards them did little to mollify their shock and Aric instead ignored them, glancing back to his own people. Apparently two of his most trusted lords had brought whores, cheap ones at that, to the ceremony instead of their wives. That brought a grin to Aric's face. One of the whores, no both of them looked familiar... With a start he realized he'd bedded the pair just last night! They both blew phantom kisses towards him and one bared a breast, pulling down her low cut bodice. He'd have to compliment his men on their clever and cruel reminder of what he was giving up, and make sure the tarts were well spanked for their insolence. Aric would normally be happy to punish the whores himself, but after today they'd be strictly off limits. This damned marriage was going kill one of the few joys he still had left in life, fucking. The agreement his clerks had negotiated had been comprehensive and he had agreed to a fidelity clause, at least for the first year. By his read, though, if his new wife abandoned the marriage and hadn't produced a male heir, the peace was off as well. No one seemed to care about that loophole as everyone, including his own advisors, thought he'd be insane to not want to take this offering. But, Aric had been secretly dreaming up an alternative plan... What if his new bride didn't take to his uncouth and vulgar ways? What if, perhaps with a little goading, she abandons the marriage and runs back to her daddy? Aric would get many months of defiling this reputedly beautiful virgin, and get to invade her kingdom and have his fun on the battlefield as well! He'd get to have his cake, and eat it too. A very tempting plan indeed... Just then, a fanfare of trumpets sounded announcing the imminent arrival of the bride. By reflex, Aric straightened and turned to the chapel doors. Despite his misgivings about this arranged marriage, he was a bit curious about this girl who was lauded to be almost magically pretty. At least he'd get a good fuck or two out of this shit show of an agreement....