The King's Wife
Summery: Clarisse and Rupert were next in line to be King and Queen of Genovia from birth. He was young, and she was younger. She was ready. She never took into account that she may never love him. They were barely mature enough to do so, but were expected to marry , rule a country. And produce heirs.
Written For: Jeanett (Prettycrazy) because she likes Rupert and Clarisse. She also helped me greatly with the end and their conversation. Thanks Jeanett, I always need someone to feed me ideas.
Reason 2: I was tired of stories where they always made love on the night of their marriage. Yes I'm aware that it's his husband rights thingy. Well Psh. I don't think he was like that. Because I think they didn't even know each-other, and I also think that he was much older then her, and it would take her some time to trust him. Now that I made my speech, on with my short short story.
Clarisse and Rupert were next in line to be King and Queen of Genovia from birth. It had been drummed into them their whole life. Not that they had ever really met. Their parents had thought it was for the best. In case they didn't like each other. This way if they found out after they were married, it was too late for Clarisse to back down.
He was young, and she was younger. She was barely a woman. They met a month before their wedding. It sounds like a nightmare to you, but young Clarisse was prepared. She was ready. She was happy to have someone guaranteed to stay with her forever. Unfortunately, she never took into account that she may never love him. But it was really not her choice.
They were barely mature enough to do so, but were expected to marry and rule a country. And to produce heirs. But both had agreed, and both were devoted to each other, though they were hardly acquainted. Their mothers had agreed on the wedding long before the couple had, Clarisse had taken lessons to be queen all her life.
So she walked down the aisle in a satin and lace gown, greeted guests and had a wonderful reception. She tried not to think of what would happen later.
On their wedding night they had sat and looked at their new spouses, examining every hair, flaw or bump on their visible flesh. They never touched, moved or said a word. When they had finally spoken, it had been to decide that his majesty would take the couch, and her majesty would sleep in the bed.
Never affectionate, always cross Rupert preferred they use their titles as opposed to their names. He had never used her first name. Clarisse just wanted so desperately to be loved.
So when she primped and polished, and dressed in lace from head to toe to welcome home her husband from a long trip six months into their marriage, she had to admit she had expected some kind of reaction. After all, he was still a man.
But he had simply walked into the room, looked her up and down as if she always dressed this way and frowned at the blackened clouds outside.
"It's a bit chilly out, your majesty, wouldn't you prefer something a bit warmer?" She stamped her foot in a rage and ran at him, beating on his chest between every harsh word she muttered.
"Dammit! I..." Hit. "don't..." Punch. "want to be..." Slap. "Queen tonight, Rupert..." Smack. "I want to be your wife!"
"You are my wife." He threw her off of him, and looked away as she landed hard on the carpeted floor of their suite, her breathing labored.
"Sure doesn't feel like it, your majesty." She sassed, pulling herself off the floor with tears brimming in her eyes.
"What is this about, suddenly?" He shifted through some mail, looking out the window as a crack of lightening lit up the room.
"I want children." Clarisse yelled above the roar of thunder. This wasn't what this was about, but she would use any reason in the book to get him to even look her way.
"What am I supposed to do about that?" His voice was casual, which angered her further.
"You need an heir." She tried again, determined he would notice her. Determined he would sweep her in his arms and carry her away like a fervent Disney prince.
"Mmm." He agreed, opening a letter. Suddenly he felt small hands on his shoulders and a teasing nibble at his ear. She felt his arms fly back and throw her across the room once again.
"Rupert. Please." She begged. Fear shone in her blue eyes. She felt at this moment that she was worthless, unworthy, and unlovable.
"Clarisse, if you have needs...fix them yourself." She gasped. How dare he speak to her like that?
"Maybe I'll get myself a...another man!" She yelled at him as he disappeared around the corner.
"That'll teach me." His voice stayed steady.
"You don't even like me, do you?" She sniffled quietly as she followed him into the room.
"Don't whine. Of course I like you. I just...I'm not ready to be a husband, a lover, a father...upon being a king. I'm only thirty!"
"I'm twenty-one, Rupert." She spat. He didn't respond, his eyes widening. "Did you...even know that?"
"No." He never took the time to notice his wife, never thinking about how young she really was.
"We don't even know each other." Neither spoke for what felt like forever. "How about we just talk?" She suggested, sitting down.
"I would like that." He sat next to her on the couch and took her hand gingerly in his own. "Clarisse, I'm sorry I hit you. I didn't mean to be violent." He rubbed his thumbs across the soft flesh that was the back of her hand. "I'm usually not like that."
"Thank you." She squeezed his hand. He smiled softly.
"What should we talk about, my dear?"
"What do you want to know?"
"Your dreams, your hopes, your fears, the foods you absolutely can't stand." She giggled.
"One thing at a time." She scolded softly, unable to keep up.
"Oh, all right, your dreams."
"I've always dreamed of true love, and I have always hoped that it would come with you."
"I hope it does too." Rupert looked deeply into her eyes. Pulling away when he started to feel desire develop from somewhere deep within. "Your fears, what do you fear?"
"I'm terrified of cockroaches." She admitted, a slight blush coloring her cheeks.
"Me too!" He laughed. "So I wouldn't expect protection from me if. . ." He was cut off by her lips meeting his, a soft caress he not been expecting. "Clarisse. . ." As much as he hadn't wanted her earlier, he wanted her now. His hands moved down her back, and he realized how beautiful she was when he pulled back and looked into her eyes once more. "Gorgeous." He breathed, kissing her cheek.
"Thank you." She kissed his cheek in return, and placed his hands back on her hips, wrapping her arms around his neck. "How about we talk tomorrow?" She purred. He nodded.
"I agree. It would be a pity to waste that outfit." She giggled softly again.
"Rupert. . ."
"Yes?" He pulled her closer, feeling the lace of her outfit beneath his fingertips.
"I think. . .I think I could love you."
"I think I could love you, too." He kissed her again and she smiled. "You've never done this before." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He knew quite well that his wife was untouched.
"No." She dropped her hands from his back. "I haven't."
"Are you scared?" He asked, knowing that he had been ten years ago before his first time.
"No." She shook her head. "I know you won't hurt me."
"I will be gentle." He lay her flat on the couch and captured her lips again. She softly murmured a thank you against his lips. He drew back, running his hands through her hair. With a swift motion he scooped her from her spot on the couch into his strong arms, and carried her slowly to the bed. "After tonight. . ." He whispered, setting her down ". . .I think we can share this." She giggled.
"Oh, I don't know.", As she raked her nails across his back and down his arms, he kissed her hungrily "Maybe we can. . ." she gasped ". . .arrange something."
Clarisse knew that she would always be fond of this man, even if she never loved him. But she could try and be happy, raise her children, and stay with Rupert who would grow to be her very best friend.
- - -