au; iron rings.
For the first twenty years of his life, Sigurd thought he had it all figured out.
He was born as the second child, in all ways outshined by his older brother. His older brother was very charasmatic, kind, had a good eye and nose for people, was very athletic and a proficient fighter. He was everything that was to be expected of him. The only thing Sigurd was slightly better at was studying. And even as children, they still agreed on one simple thing. His brother would be king and rule everything, and Sigurd would be his advisor. He only had one fatal flaw: he died before his time.
His brother died from a fever gone horribly wrong. Just one day, he became ill, collapsed and was gone within two days.
The whole kingdom mourned - but none like Sigurd. Because with his brother’s death - he knew he died as well.
Sigurd had an aversion to people. It’s not that he hated them - he was simply deeply uncomfortable around them. He didn’t like them and he didn’t trust them. He believed humans all spoke with double intentions and that proved to make it exceptionally hard to listen to others and make friends.
Yet, now he was forced to be incredibly social. He had to attend banquets and balls and the like - which was all incredibly draining on him. He longed for the days where he could stay in his chambers and read, only to be interrupted with his half drunk brother stumbling into his room to tell him about the party.
Now, that was all gone.
Two days after his investiture as the heir apparent, his parents started to look for a bride for him. They worried about the line of succession because - if his brother who was by all accounts a healthy man who die as quickly as that… who was to say that his quiet brother wouldn’t follow soon?
Sigurd asked if he should at least have some input, but he was told that his parents knew better. Apparently, they proclaimed their son’s bachelor status and that he was in search of a wife. His parents were then swarmed with letters offering their daughters for the match.
Why she was chosen, Sigurd didn’t know. He just followed his orders.
Even on his wedding day, he didn’t expect that the first time he would get to speak to his wife was when they were alone, about to… consummate their union.
He had nothing against her personally, not really. She didn’t seem like the usual Princess type - the ones constantly covered in more feathers and jewels than necessary, vying and craving attention with every word… in fact, if times were kinder and their circumstances better, he would have approached her. Probably not, but he would have thought about it!
He knew his words came out a lot harsher than he intended them to. He really didn’t mean to be mean, it just… came out that way. He knew he looked somewhat mean too, with his dark eyes and sharp features. He never perceived himself as handsome - even though most people said he was. He did think she was pretty though.
Holding his glass with whiskey, he turned around from the window to look at her. She looked rather small in this grand room - or perhaps he felt small. He wasn’t quite sure what metaphor should go here. But he was sure of one thing.
It seemed neither one of them wanted this union - and he will not force them to consummate it just because they were forced to.
Nodding, he tapped his finger on the whiskey glass.
“ Hm. I wonder about that. ” Was he alone? Or were they alone together -as cliche as that sounded?
Turning from the window he went to the couch where he sat down, putting his glass away. Well, this was comfortable. “ I’ll sleep here then. ”
@dzieditmeitas from x.
