What's a Queen to a Lord?
A/N: I just wanted to write fantasy nothing special.
Being shocked wasn't new. Being calm wasn't new and yet when those two merged to become fear, because of a man who fought for her hand, she hated him. She hated when he took her gloved hand in his and pressed his bloody lips against her knuckles.
She thought it was barbaric. "My Queen," sounding so wrong from his mouth and yet like it belonged.
"My Lord," she said like her voice had been stolen and was just now returning. "My husband."
And he smiled at that. Like all the previous bloodshed was worth it for such a silly title and a band of metal. Like the blood and wounds covering him was nothing compared to this moment.
"Dear." And thus her fate was sealed. He was hers just as she was his.
She was thankful for his wounds at one point. When he was just recovering and she could visit, learn more about this mysterious lord who had fought so hard for her. Put off their consummation. Learn to accept having him around her.
Sandy would learn his likes and dislikes, his tastes. Learn him like she would learn fine wine from cheap.
Their time to learn ended too quickly for her liking. He was moved to her room, her bed. Consummation fast approaching even though she was no stranger of what really went on. The things she had heard from other royals was enough, but to experience it for herself, with a man she knew yet didn't was absurd.
The night of their consummation, he wouldn't touch her. Would only look and turn away. Maybe it was what she wore—some thin garment that left little to the imagination—or he was much like her. Or maybe it was the guards stationed outside for confirmation.
"My Lord," Sandy started. "Is something the matter?"
Shadow shook his head, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.
"Am I not desirable?" she asked, covering her chest with her arms. "Would you prefer if I were bigger?"
"You are fine the way you are," he finally said, keeping his back turned. "However, you look uncomfortable."
"I can assure you I'm fine. I want to get this over with."
He turned to look at her, red eyes glossy. Desire not lost on her. "You shake yet I have not touched you. I want you fearless. You do not have to be afraid of me." He said.
"I'm not." She replied. That was true, she didn't fear him. She feared not being good enough. "Turn around, don't look until I say so." She ordered, watching him comply. Sandy looked at the thin, purple garment before taking it off seeking warmth and momentary shelter under the cover. She settled, covered only by the bed sheet and cover. "You can look or whatever you want."
She watched only for a moment, covering her eyes with her hands once his shirt slipped past his shoulders.
"I will not touch you," Shadow started, back still turned. "Unless you wish me to."
Sandy swallowed, finally looking at him, at his scarred back and arms. The wounds from his fight for her prominent amongst those faded. When she touched him, she wasn't expecting his skin to be soft. She pressed her hand against his back, surprised at the softness beneath his muscle. Her lips trembled as she pressed a kiss to a scar on his shoulder, barely there. She continued, becoming sure of her movement.
She let go of the sheet that hid her from him, hands moving over his chest and stomach, feeling more scars, more skin. "Were you a knight, My Lord?" she breathed, pressing a kiss to his neck twice then his jaw, her bare body close.
"Once, My Queen." He answered, placing a hand over hers and guiding it to his mouth. He kissed her palm, letting it go after a moment.
Sandy hummed at that, delicately kissing his palm back. She felt fine now. "May I see more of you?" she asked, blushing.
She was slightly disappointed when he stood and turned to look at her. In his eyes, she saw he wanted her.
"Am I allowed to touch you now?" he asked, voice inviting and sultry.
Sandy nodded, watching him. His hands that she once wanted nothing to do with. He would touch her for the first time, and she wasn't afraid at all.