A/N: This storyline just wouldn't leave me alone, so here it is. Leave a review below!
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A thousand battle cries surrounded them, as the two armies attacked each other. Prince Sweeney took down foe after foe, a whirling force to be reckoned with in the Alamutian ranks.
"Behind you, brother!"
He spun, ready to face the oncoming foe, only to see a pure black stallion bearing down on him. The rider had a sword levelled at his head, and he did the only thing he could think of. He batted the sword away with his own, though, to his dismay, the rider held fast to it, and hooked one foot in the stirrup, using it to launch himself at his attacker so that they both fell to the ground. The Illyrian rider rolled and pushed him off of him, quickly retrieving his blade before facing him. Sweeney could only see their eyes, flashing hazel, for the rest of his face was covered by a thick cloth. He was also dismayed, to find that the person wielded not only one sword, but two, curved and obviously Alamutian in make. He frowned in confusion, before the person was on the offence again, pressing him back from the direction he came.
He pushed back, quickly realizing that his foe was formidable. While he focused on brute strength to overwhelm his enemies, this person, (admittedly shorter than he), was quicker on their feet, more docile in blocking and following with attacks. He soon found that he was thrown to the dirt more than once during their fight. Just as he felt as though he would be unable to rise from the mud again to continue fighting, the Alamutian retreat horn was sounded. He looked up into the eyes of his attacker, wondering if they would still run him through with their sword. However, he merely rolled his eyes, whistled loudly with two fingers for his horse, and then rode back to Illyria.
Sweeney felt like he had bruises on his bruises, and carefully, staggeringly, he dragged himself to his feet, and back into their camp.
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"My Lord, King Ferdinand is arriving in a matter of minutes. He wishes to negotiate over the war," a servant stated breathlessly as he interrupted the King's afternoon tea with his daughter.
Abraham looked worriedly over at the young Princess, who frowned delicately. He patted her shoulder lightly, consolingly.
"Never fear, my dear, I shall return shortly," he told her, dropping a kiss to her head before leaving the room.
"King Ferdinand is here, My Lord, in the throne room," another servant said as they entered the antechamber.
"Of course. Let us receive him," Abraham said, although not without a hint of worry in his voice.
"King Ferdinand," Abraham said as he swept into the throne room, "excuse me for not receiving you earlier. To what do we owe the pleasure?"
"King Abraham. I have some negotiations I'd like us both to go through. War has rampaged both our countries for long enough. It is high time for us to settle this without more bloodshed," Ferdinand said, his tone not friendly, but not one of hatred either.
"I agree completely. Come, follow me," Abraham replied, gesturing to the other king.
They sat at the long table Abraham reserved for when there were guests in the palace in another chamber.
"Well, what are you negotiating, King Ferdinand?" Abraham asked as they were seated.
"I believe that our kingdoms will benefit from a bond closer than that of friendship- marriage," Ferdinand said, looking to the other man.
"Marriage?" Abraham asked, a furrow forming between his eyes.
"Yes. Between our children," Ferdinand replied.
"While it may seem beneficial, I remind you, King Ferdinand, that my daughter- the sole heir to the throne of Illyria- cannot marry your son. She must remain here, to rule efficiently, as she has been taught to," Abraham said, trying to keep the steel out of his voice.
"Yes, I understand that, King Abraham," Ferdinand said, reclining leisurely in his chair, " but I wasn't speaking of my first born son. Nor my second. They are both married. Rather, I spoke of my third."
"Your third? I was unaware; excuse my brashness. And if they are wed? What sort of peace treaty shall we draw up?" Abraham asked.
"Alamut and Illyria will forever remain bound as friends and allies. This is a wise choice, my friend, I have heard that there have been stirrings in the South, who knows what else may come in the future. I believe that our two kingdoms can withstand any trouble that comes if we fight together," Ferdinand told the other king, who was stroking his beard in thought.
"Ah. So that is why you wish for peace with Illyria. You have given me much to think of, King Ferdinand. Allow me some time to make my decision, and I shall send word on the morrow," Abraham told him.
"Of course. On the morrow then, King Abraham. Farewell," Ferdinand said as he shook hands with Abraham.
"Of course. Farewell, King Ferdinand," Abraham replied distractedly.
Abraham returned to the garden, where his daughter and future Queen of Illyria was waiting for him to return. She looked up expectantly when she heard him enter.
"Father? What is it? Are those ruffians going to attack the Palace?" she asked, looking at him in worry.
"No, my child. King Ferdinand desires a peace treaty with us," he replied as he sat down heavily.
"On what terms? It seems very unlikely of him," she said as she looked at him carefully with her striking hazel eyes.
"I know. King Ferdinand wishes for us to be united in order to prepare for attacks he thinks are stirring in the South. And he wishes for our unity to take the form of a marriage between our two houses. Specifically, between you and his third son," he told her with a heavy sigh.
She looked away from him, putting down the teacup which had been halfway to her lips.
"I see," was all she said.
"My child, you do not have to do this, I am sure we can work out another arrangement with the Alamutians," her father tried to tell her.
"I know, Father. But I will agree. You told me once that a good ruler thinks of their kingdom, and not of themselves. Well, I'm thinking of our kingdom, and I'm thinking of all the wives who have lost their husbands, children who have lost fathers, the food shortages and hunger. And I know that I cannot force the people of our kingdom to continue to suffer as they have. Not when the power to reverse it lies with me," she said diplomatically, her chin raised high, despite the fact that her fingers twisted nervously in her lap.
Her father gave her a quivering smile. "My dear, you shall make a wonderful ruler of Illyria. I hope I am still here to see you bring our kingdom to an age of prosperity," he told her, reaching over and clasping one of her hands in his, and kissing her temple briefly.
She gave him a slightly wan smile, before excusing herself to her chambers.
When she arrived there, she leant her back against the door, looking up at the ceiling with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. She was being forced to marry one of those coarse princes of Alamut. Have him sleep in her bed, and sit next to her throne, ruling by her side as King Consort of Illyria. She shuddered at the thought, and feeling uncomfortable and irritated, she carefully peeled out of her clothes, not bothering to call for a maid to help her, slipped into her nightgown and dropped into her bed.
XxX
"King Abraham has accepted the treaty that was presented to him. From this evening Alamut and Illyria shall be united as allies and then as friends with your marriage, my son," Ferdinand said to his three sons.
"Good luck, brother. I've heard the Princess of Illyria is a scornful old hag," Edward, the second prince told his brother.
"On the contrary, brother, I've heard that she is incomparably beautiful," Richard, the eldest said.
"Regardless of her beauty or ugliness, Sweeney will be marrying the Princess so that both kingdoms will not have to worry about war with each other, and can stand united to face the Southern stirrings," the King said sternly.
"I've heard she's feisty, with a tongue that can scald like hot water or slather sweetness that can make your teeth ache," Edward continued.
"I have a duty brother, and seeing that both you bastards are already married, I will take on this so called beautiful hag with enough boldness for both kingdoms," Sweeney said.
"Enough of your meaningless banter, sons. We are to meet with King Abraham and the Princess shortly after noon, and you must all be presentable. Go and clean yourselves up, and Sweeney, try to wear something other than your armour, please?" Ferdinand interjected, sending the three Princes on their way.
XxX
"With the signing of this treaty, Alamut and Illyria shall be forever united, not only in the bonds of friendship, but in the bonds of marriage! The marriage of Prince Sweeney of Alamut and Princess Eleanor of Illyria shall mirror the close bonds our two great kingdoms shall share forevermore!"
It was a joyous day for the two kingdoms. The war that had taxed both heavily was now over, and the Alamutians and Illyrians danced, drank and laughed with each other in the streets. In the palace a lavish banquet was hosted, and this was where Prince Sweeney first glimpsed his soon to be wife.
He assumed that that was who she is, for she was seated regally next to King Abraham. He knew immediately, that Edward's source was wrong, for there was no way that anyone could have ever described her as an ugly hag. Her hair was ruby red, and curled elegantly from where it was pinned behind her head. Her eyes were hazel, and they shone with intelligence and wit, complementing her alabaster skin. If anything, her mere appearance could have probably made his teeth ache with sweetness. He swallowed dryly, his eyes glued to her figure.
"Seems I was wrong, eh brother?" Edward said as he appeared next to him, nudging his shoulder and sipping his wine, his eyes on the princess too.
"It seems so," Sweeney mumbled vaguely.
"Smitten already, little brother?" Edward chuckled into his cup.
He snapped his eyes to his. "Of course not. She's just another beautiful woman. I've seen many," he replied stubbornly.
"Of course," Edward replied sarcastically with a smirk, rolling his eyes, "look, there goes your princess for a breath of fresh air now. Why don't you go over and speak to her?"
"Maybe I will," the younger brother replied with his chin stuck in the air.
Princess Eleanor stood on the balcony in the night air, savouring the coolness compared to the hot stifling air inside the palace. She looked out at the stars and sighed softly, shutting her eyes.
"Princess?"
She spun in surprise, her eyes wide as she took in the tall figure standing in front of her.
"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you," he said gently.
She tipped her chin up in the air. "Who said I was startled?" she asked, one perfectly manicured eyebrow rising.
He chuckled. "Well, you spun so quickly, I just assumed I did," he replied.
"Haven't you ever heard of what happens when you assume things? You make and ass of you and me," she quipped back. "Besides, I didn't think anyone would follow me out here, since they're too busy drinking their night away. I can't imagine the headache my father will wake up with in the morning."
Richard's source was correct. She was perhaps the feistiest woman he had ever come across, and it was most intriguing.
"Forgive me Princess, but do you know whom you are speaking to?" he asked.
"Of course I do, Prince Sweeney. And it would do you well to remember that in Illyria women are the equals of men. I'll not tolerate a marriage where I am seen as an ornament and not a woman and ruler," she told him crisply.
He held his hands up in surrender.
"Forgive me if I've offended you, Princess. I meant no harm," he replied.
"I would hope so," she muttered, turning to face the night sky again.
Sweeney frowned. He couldn't understand why she was being so cold. They were to be married in less than a week, and she was a regal (if beautiful) ice queen.
"Look, if you didn't want to get married, why did you agree?" he asked, his voice colouring with his annoyance.
"Like I'd let my father pass up an opportunity for peace when I'm watching our people starve and suffer the effects of this long drawn out war," she snorted.
Sweeney stayed quiet, staring at her back. She suddenly sighed and ran a hand over her face tiredly.
"What seems to really be troubling you, Princess?" he asked.
"Is that concern I hear in your voice?" she asked, turning to him, and he was surprised to see the teasing glint in her hazel eyes.
"Never. I was merely wondering what put you in such a foul mood," he replied, stunned by her beauty against the night sky.
She arched a brow. "I would have thought a Prince of Alamut knew how to lie better," she said with a smirk. "And that they also knew when to stop staring."
"I-I was most certainly not staring, and definitely not at you," Sweeney replied through gritted teeth.
She took two steps forward, till there was only enough space for a thin book to pass between them.
"Well there must be a reason why you can't take your eyes off me," she quipped, arching a brow with a small smirk. With that she carefully stepped around him and walked back inside. Sweeney stood there for a good few minutes, trying to regain his senses after what had just happened. He shook his head, and with a small smirk in the corner of his mouth, he too walked back inside.
A/N: Nellie's character in this one was influenced by Lady Sif from Thor, and a bit of Princess Tamina from Prince of Persia. Yes, yes, I did. Because badass Nellie kicking Sweeney's ass is cool. Deal with it ;P Review please!