Hey there :) the other I was watching Sissi movies (with Romy Schneider) and I thought maybe stydia could be a royal couple (doesn't have to be Sissi and Franz) but idk if you could a little something like that :) thank you ! And btw you're blog is awesome (extra kudos for the snow ! :D )
So this isn’t based on Sissi and Franz because I don’t actually know enough about those movies to write a stydia fic based on them, but this is royal Stydia! And I started writing this last month but it got really long really fast and it still isn’t finished, so this is basically a preview that can kind of stand alone as a drabble? And I’ll tag you in the full version when it’s finished - I just didn’t want you to have to wait any longer. :)
The first thought Lydia Martinhas upon meeting her future husband is that she absolutely does not wantto marry him. For one thing, his hands are too big for the rest of his body.Also, his smile is too crooked to be honorable, and when he locks eyes with heras he enters the room, he trips over the edge of the carpet and almost goessprawling.
Lydia shiftsalmost imperceptibly towards her mom and murmurs, "Are you sure this isthe prince that I'm betrothed to?"
"Yes,dear." She answers without disturbing the gracious smile etched on herface.
Lydia hmphs inher throat. "Well, are you sure that I have to marry him?"
Lydia's momrises to her feet and spreads her hands in front of her. "Greetings, KingStilinski. It is my honor to invite you into my kingdom to celebrate theofficial engagement of my daughter, Princess Lydia Martin, to your son,ah..."
"PrinceStiles Stilinski," the King fills in with a small smile. "I recognizethat the name is a bit unusual, but then so are these circumstances. It had alwaysbeen my intent to wed my son to a princess he had actually met before, butunfortunately, the Calaveras have made that impossible."
Her mom nods."It will not be easy to defeat these new invaders. I am grateful that wewill be able to unite our kingdoms through this marriage. Only then will we beable to combine our military forces and stop this threat."
Queen Martinsays these words as casually as anyone can speak about such a dire situation,but Lydia knows that each syllable is directed at her. They cannot afford toreject the help of a nation as powerful as Beaconia, even if its prince is asfoolish as his name.
So with awell-concealed sigh, Lydia stands gracefully and curtsies in front of herfuture father-in-law and husband.
The next few weeksare going to be torturous. And if Lydia is sure of anything, it's that thingswill only get worse after her wedding day.
That night, theyhave a ball to mark the occasion, as if this is a normal marriage and theydon't need to pour every spare penny into their military forces. Lydia puts onan elegant green dress that matches her eyes—not that anyone is going to notice—and spends anhour in front of the mirror while her ladies-in-waiting style her curly hairand giggle about how handsome her future husband is. For the finishing touches,she slips on shoes embroidered with golden thread and hangs a heavy, jeweled,golden necklace around her neck. She knows she's going to hate this event, hatethis marriage—hate this life she's been forced into—but at least thesapphires will glint brightly in the candlelight. Brightly enough to concealthe grimace she's going to mask with a smile.
Slowly, carefulnot to crumple the silk of her dress, Lydia stands up and opens her door, fullyprepared to face the throngs of courtiers that are going to offer up theircongratulations as if this is something worth celebrating.
What she is notprepared for—not by any means—is a boy with too-large hands anda smile that still doesn't look honorable, standing outside the door to herchambers.
He has too manymoles on his face as well. She hadn't noticed them before.
"What areyou doing here?" she demands, her tone icy. "You are not to meet withme unless I am accompanied by a chaperone. You know castle etiquette."
He straightensup, startled, stares at her skirts and her necklace and her eyes. "I... Ithought this was where my father was staying. My sincerest apologies, PrincessLydia. I will see you at the ball. I... It is very becoming, the way your dressmatches your eyes."
He whirls aroundand vanishes down the corridor, leaving Lydia slightly astonished that henoticed her eyes. Especially when her bodice is cut so low.
They meetofficially when she enters the great hall right before dinner, her sweepingskirts grand enough to silence the room even if she hadn't been announced witha trumpet and a crier. She curtsies, and he bows low and kisses her hand. (Hislips are soft.) She welcomes him to the kingdom and doesn't say another word tohim the entire night.
However,she does offer him the slightest of smiles when she sees him across the roomduring a waltz. He's been dancing with one of her ladies-in-waiting, but hiseyes have never wandered away from Lydia's face.
When he smiles backat her, she decides she's right about it not being honorable. The problem is,she's starting to think that might not be a bad thing.
