Note to Readers:
Hello,
This is the first story I've ever written to be published, and one of the first like it I've written at all. As such, I'm still kind of feeling around (and very nervous!) and would love any and all constructive criticism you lovely people may have! Since I'm pretty new to this, it also kind of goes without saying that I do not have an editor, so please excuse any minor grammatical errors, as long as they don't take away from the story. This chapter has a good bit of exposition, but I promise it doesn't take too long to get to the good parts. I hope you enjoy! If you do, comment to let me know...or if you don't, please also comment what I can do to improve!
A few final notes...please assume all characters are at or above the age of consent. This is a work of fiction; I do not condone any form of nonconsensual sexual activity outside of fiction or safe, consensual role play. This story switches points of view every now and then.
Now...without further ado, here is Marriage of the Fae.
~ HibouBleu
Chapter 1
Noelle
Nothing is working today, and it's probably because yesterday I fucked up the code. I fucked up the code because it wasn't meant to be my responsibility in the first place, but when Jake the Assistant Team Leader is taking his fifteenth sick day of the quarter it kind of lands on the shoulders of the sap who agreed to head the coding team. And when the sap who agreed to head the coding team already has enough on her goddamn plate, well, she fucks up the code.
So Friendly Neighborhood Team Leader yours truly fucked up the code, and now we're a day behind since we're trying to find the line to fix it. I won't bore you with the details.
"Noelle." Corey the Manager waddles into the office and leans on my desk with a heavy sigh. I can almost hear the desk sighing as well under his considerable weight. "How's the code going, Team Leader?"
You know exactly how the code is going, Corey, you whale. "Still working on it. Know when Jake's back?"
"Jake's sick." Jake has the man flu, I'm sure of it. "Poor bastard'll be back in a couple days." Poor bastard is on the fortunate end of the boys' club that is my coding team.
"Got it." I turn back to my desktop. Corey leans in. "You really should have been finished by now, Noelle. The team's waiting."
"The team is doing jack shit. I'm not sure they're even the team anymore." I tap a few keys. "I've got a lot to get done, would you be able to swing by later?" I offer my most apologetic half-smile. Corey sighs. "Well, I was actually considering giving one of your team members the rest of Jake's work." That would be very nice. Probably more in line with workplace ethics as well, since I already have a heavier workload than the rest of the team without Jake's nonsense to deal with. "That would be great," I murmur. "I'd really appreciate it."
"Awesome." Corey grins. "And with the extra time, you know..." A slight smirk, "...you'll have some extra time on your hands...maybe to go out with me? You know, to express your gratitude and whatnot."
I bristle. "I still have a lot to do, Corey."
"Oh, come on, after I agreed to lower your workload? Don't be ungrateful."
"It wasn't my workload to begin with," I snap. Corey leans further over my desk. I narrow my eyes. "Fine," he says. "I guess you have the time to do Jake's work after all. Don't say I didn't try to be nice. Noelle, I think you should leave. "
I frown. "I'm not finished."
"Get it done tomorrow. Leave now, it's late." Corey turns and stalks off, muttering under his breath. A cup of pencils tumbles from my desk as it shifts back into place.
Noelle the office bitch. God damn it, last month it was Tyler the IT Guy, this month I've been targeted by Office Manager Corey. I need a new job. I need to find some mythical female-only programming office.
Maybe I just need to grow a spine.
I scoop up my bag and stuff my laptop in, cellphone, earbuds for when I'm blissed out on a good code day and want to listen to Twenty One Pilots. Water bottle. I stand up, push in my chair, pretend that every loop in the carpet is Office Manager Corey and I can squish him into the floor with the wheels of the chair.
My car is in the shop this week, leaving me to bike the six miles home from the office. It's a funny sort of ride back, through a copse or two of tall trees before you get back into the suburbs. Some days I like to take my time and watch the pale bark go by as I pedal, but today I'm intent on sweating out my annoyance and getting home in time to look at the code again before I call it a night. It's getting dark and I'm going fast, too fast to see the deer until right before I'm upon it, too fast to stop in time.
Instead, I swerve sharply to the right, avoiding the deer, instead hitting that solid pale bark head on, why the fuck didn't I wear a helmet, too late now, my forehead slams into the tree and I watch the deer darting away in the second before I black out.
**************
Rhys
"She's very beautiful."
I turn from my lectern and offer the smiling advisor a wry smirk. "That she is."
"Awfully headstrong as well. You'll have enviable children. Those fit for a king and queen."
I nod absently.
"My prince, it would be advisable to accept your betrothal, and fast. The ceremony is beginning soon, and you're not yet dressed."
"I'm aware of that, Jerome, thank you." I turn back to my book and flick it closed before rising. Jerome's ochre eyes must be rolling at my obstinacy, but despite his status, there is only so far one may go in beleaguering a prince. Fortunately for me.
Unfortunate for me is the situation of my betrothal, about which Jerome has come to console me, at the eleventh hour, no less. Beautiful and headstrong or not, the princess Siobhan is not the woman I wish to marry. No woman is, in fact. Nor am I loath to make this known to the princess—the woman herself wishes not to marry, but to join the warrior class and defend our people. A noble pursuit, and one which is all but null among the options of a Fae princess. In order to honor her clan, she must marry. In order to honor mine, I must do the same.
At the heart of the ceremony is the cauldron of Elixir, in which the groom and the virgin bride must bathe in order to affirm their bond. Not only to affirm, but to effectively trap. Once two beings have entered the Elixir together, they reemerge as one. When the night ends, Siobhan and I will be bonded as man and wife, two royal mates. After tonight, the sooner Siobhan becomes with child, the sooner our allied clans will rise in the ranks of the Fae.
Jerome turns his back as I begin to dress, donning white linen pants and a golden tunic, the color of celebration. "How fetching you look, Prince Rhys," he intones, his eyes glowing with rare humor. I give a forced smile and exit my chambers. Outside the palace a crowd waits, facing the princess, who stands at the edge with her back to them as tradition sustains. Behind them the Elixir hums in its cauldron, a great basin dug into the earth and risen up about the edges to contain the bubbling liquid within. I step toward Siobhan as she breaks into a cordial smile, her deep turquoise eyes wide as her scarlet curls drape about her shoulders. Beautiful, indeed. If I were to be in love with a woman, perhaps it would be her. If she were to want a husband, perhaps she would want me. For now, though, we must go through the motions.
Siobhan leans in as I near and kisses me on the cheek. She looks uncannily joyous for a strong woman betrothed against her will, but perhaps it is only her beauty. "Good evening, Rhys."
"You are stunning, as always, Siobhan."
Most women would avert their eyes at the compliment, but Siobhan's never leave my gaze. "It must be the light."
"Never."
She gives a smirk and touches my cheek, the perfect image of a gracious bride. Few in the crowd would ever notice her iridescent eyes flitting toward the line of archers facing the Elixir, not warily, but with longing. She wishes she were among them.
A horn sounds and the crowd parts around the cauldron while the archers line up to shoot their arrows over the glittering Elixir. The priest Aodh steps forward to speak of the magic of the Elixir, of its ability to bond a man and a woman for life. Slowly Siobhan and I turn to the cauldron, silent. The bride and groom do not speak during the ceremony; their willingness to step into the cauldron to be bonded must speak for them.
"
A'onis, gerren h'es.
" The man must step in first. I bow my head as two supplicants come forward and lead me to the cauldron, gripping my elbows to heft me onto the ledge. I step into the liquid and it burns, first my feet, then up my legs as the throng about the cauldron goes nearly silent. It feels as though I am blistering, but pain must be nothing to a prince, to one who will soon be king. I inhale and dip lower until my chest is submerged, the silver Elixir bubbling around me, beginning to draw my energy without yet finding a place to deposit it. When Siobhan enters the cauldron, it will draw her energy and thread it with mine.
"
A'onii, gerrai h'esa.
" Now, the virgin woman. I turn to Siobhan, as she breathes deeply, her turquoise eyes nearly blank. As she nears the cauldron they reflect the flaming silver within and begin to dance. Undoubtedly she is beautiful. I force myself to think of what a strong queen she will be, of the splendor of our future children. The supplicants grip her slim arms and lift her to the edge of the cauldron. On cue, the archers let go their arrows.
