Simon Riley X Reader, Royalty!AU
Summary - The court has been overthrown, your husband the King now dead. The new King see's you as an asset and marries you off to his Knight. Can you find peace with this new life? Will this horror be a savior?
TW: Death, Mentions of gore, infidelity, power dynamics, dub-con, Not quite historically accurate
Context: Based around 1540's English court, Slow-burn, Enemies to lovers
Air thick with blood and sweat, hand tight on the touch guiding you the old tunnels of the castle. Hurried shouts of guardsman come from all sides as you and your ladies rush, tripping on the lavish fabric that adorn your robes.
The stone floors do nothing to comfort your ears, the wails of the many men you grew to know fall dead. Their groans echoing as if still alive, shouts from the main hall still loud in your mind as you stumble through the narrowing chambers. Cobwebs crowning your head in dusty silks as you push forward, the King hopefully greeting you at the end of this pilgrimage to damnation.
The cold night, smokey rooms was a contrast to the events that morning. The spring equinox, feasts and festivities had filled the courtyard with joy. You'd forgotten the sorrows of the deep winter, how your mind pushed back on how your lord-husband, King of the realm took up one of your ladies-in-waiting. Another friend who you could no longer even spare a glance at. You watched as old friends littered the gardens, their chubby children playing in the grass. Their eyes, all sharing the warmth that was once held by your dear husband.
You heard the screams before you could enter the room, gasps and sobs of mistresses and courtiers alike as you soon laid eyes on what remained of your dear King.
His figure lifeless on the floor, someone near divine stricken down like any other man. Huddled like cattle, you all stood in the lone chamber, paintings of old adorning the walls. Figures of myth watching,
'Will we too be forgotten?' Your mind reads out as the torch flickers.
The thoughts painfully loud as you sit upon the ancient stone, and then you hear it.
They came from the lone hall, more wails and groans as the gluttonous nobles plead for forgiveness.
Those chubby babies were gone, and so were their mothers. The girls that only tried to comfort you, a stranger from a strange land. They were only guilty of naivety and the same men that kept you.
What were they going to do with a Queen?
The pitter-patter of your heart hastening as the steps grew nearer.
The cruel blue eyes on John Price laid upon you. His men soon meeting their lordship at the chamber's doorway. One by one- your past friends, the foes and the frivolous nobility who've scrambled in are lead away. Demise eminent as they disappear into the pitch black
His eyes meet yours, a sole reminder of a dynasty toppled.
"Do you wish to return to your husband?" His voice cold, as he watches for any glimmer of hope in your eyes. "Or...you can be of use elsewhere."
The thought of escape from judgement flashes cross your mind, selfishly wanting to avoid the fate of the others.
A low sigh escapes you, a mournful sign of resignment. As you stand, your dewy eyes glisten in the glow of the flame you dust yourself of before the traitorous man, giving a low curtsy.
"M-My King, spare me from my husband's fate as his mind was corrupted be evil spirits." The air still awaiting his judgment.
You pray to maintain dignity, that you are not perceived as some coward. The fabric of chemise lets the cold breeze nip at your flesh as you wait, silence deafening. The captain's eyes give a slight break from the bitter coldness that entrapped them.
"Your wedding will be at dawn, your chambers shall remain as they were until you are no longer of any use." He says turning back to the depths of the tunnels. Slowly you follow, the stench of the man you had known slowly filling the old chapel.
The dawn comes, warm and humid as you rise from your restless slumber. The normal rush of the daily now silent, new women strange women flood your chambers. Old gowns you'd nearly forgotten of being laced and pinned as you try to slow the hum of your heart.
Deep ruby hues clash with soft buttery yellows as the dress takes shape on your form. Onyx ribbons lace up your arms, a truly morbid reminder of the horrors that occurred in the night.
Guided by guards and ladies, you find yourself in the main throne room. The same formidable man sits in your deceased husband's throne, a similar hungry gaze filling his eyes. To his right, a hulking knight. Face hidden by fabric and what remains of his now broken armour.
He stands solemnly, eyes turning to meet yours - a deep pitch, reminding you of the dangerous waters by your old home. His hand outstretching as you approached.
You glide, standing before the new king, his knight just watching as you try to prepare yourself for whatever may come.
"My liege," the words heavy on your tongue as you acknowledge the man allowing you to live.
Words fall from his lips, dripping with ego that rivaled any man you had known. He mocks your old husband, who may still be in that deep forgotten room, The courtiers who raised you to be be the perfect bride- a gem to the dynasty. His eyes meet your own and then shift to the looming knight.
You are married like that, no priest nor procession. None of the opulence that landed you in the palace in the first place, just a glance and a nod.
Your new husband; a man who looked he escaped the tales your grandmother spoke of, ones who came from the fae realm and the demons that aid evil men. His hand takes yours as you stand awaiting something, anything more.
The way the eyes follow as he leads you back to your chambers, some of pity and others fear. You feel like meat once more. The heavy doors seem weightless to him as he moves.
The quiet after the doors to your chambers close. The light twinkling on the ground as you move to sit by the window sill, your chest is tight as you look out into the courtyard. Still yet to bloom from the harsh winter, a similar dew greets the corners of your eyes.
You hear the creaking of the bed, the brute's body laying across your fine furs. A guttural noise escapes him, the air leaving his chest in a deep huff.
His face hidden still despite the more intimate expectations.
You had seen him before, late in the evening before the terrors of the night. He roamed the rose garden, your mind sharing the memory.
Remembering how you returned early from the festivities after watching the old king chase his bastards and wards. A smile gracing his wirey lips as he laughed. You came to sulk in your window sill, the rose garden was still barren when you looked down having seen one stranger in the rows of thorns.
A similar huff escaping your lips as you rose to hide away in the rest of the apartment.
