Demon Lord of the Frozen North
An X-Men Evolution Fanfic by Quill N. Inque
I do not own X-Men.
Chapter 2: A Clueless King
The blue-furred mutant shook his head as he shed his armor like an old layer of skin. The shiny greaves, armbands and breastplate clanked loudly as they were dropped to the floor, but even the loud noise failed to rouse Catherine from her shock-induced stupor.
Kurt's voice was bitter and laced with irony. "Guess I should have expected that," he muttered darkly to himself, glancing at his new bride's prone form. "They're all the same, looking at me like some kind of menagerie exhibit…"
The mutant's tail swished viciously as he took a crystal decanter from the bedside table, pouring a sip of amber-colored liquid and downing it promptly. The tiny glass clinked as he set it back down, and Kurt felt confusion as to what to do next. Should I wake her up? He wondered. Or should I just leave her?
Curiosity got the better of him, and Kurt hesitantly tried waving a hand over Catherine's face. "Um...are you…okay?" he asked haltingly, his voice unsure. "I, uh, didn't mean to scare you."
Kurt's efforts were rewarded when Catherine's brown eyes snapped open. The chocolate-colored pupils were as timid as a frightened doe's, and the sight of Kurt standing over her almost made her faint again.
Kurt's heart wrenched, as it had so many times before in his young life. Everyone seemed to look at him like that at one time or another. He tried to say something to reassuring, desperate to at least get this girl to stop passing out every time she looked at him.
"Uh…hi," he said stupidly. Mentally, Kurt slapped himself.
Catherine's mouth moved for several moments, but the terror that threatened to consume her only manifested itself as a harsh croak of fear. She was now convinced that this demonic apparition was intent on doing unspeakable things to her.
That sort of unpleasantness was the farthest thing from Kurt's mind. He was too preoccupied trying to figure out what to say next. Kurt's royal upbringing and freakish appearance meant that his people skills were sorely lacking. His knowledge of women was almost nonexistent, for that matter, and thus Kurt was at a loss on how to relate to this terrified young woman. He had no idea what to do in a situation like this, and being young and rash, he'd never stopped to consider the responsibilities of having a spouse.
Fortunately, Kurt was saved from further embarrassment by the emergence of the formidable Mary Macleod into his private chambers. The fiery Scot tutted at the sight of Kurt's armor, as the young king had strewn it haphazardly on the floor.
"Now what 'ave I bin tellin' ye?" she demanded, with absolutely no trace of the subservience one would normally address a monarch. "Don' be leavin' yuir armor all aboot like that! Ye'll trip an' break yer neck one o' these days, mark m'words!" Mary gasped as she held up Kurt's ripped and torn cloak. "I just mended this not three days back! Why must ye wear all yer good cloaks onto the battlefield, I ask ye? Don't make much sense, when ye get right doon to it!"
Catherine giggled at the sight of this servant scolding a king, and Kurt totally deflated as he felt his cheeks heat up like a furnace. He opened his mouth to speak, but Mary cut him off.
"Jest let me catch ye goin' oot in weather like this again, Milord! Ye'll catch yer death o' cold afore yer much older!"
Kurt was so embarrassed by Mary's maternal behavior that he seriously considered impaling himself on his sword to save face. Though she was but a servant, Mary had been like a mother to him for as long as he could remember, and thus Mary's unique position allowed her to address her King in such a blatantly insubordinate manner. And there was another thing that made Mary so indispensable: being the head servant, nothing went on in the palace without her knowing or hearing about it. Her insider information had already saved Kurt's life more than once.
Catherine pressed a hand to her mouth to hide her smile. It didn't work, and Kurt glared at her sullenly.
"What's so funny?"
The sight of those golden eyes fixed upon her made Catherine's merriment die on her lips. "Nothing," she squeaked, scooting across the bed to get away from him.
Inwardly, Kurt banged his head against a proverbial wall. If anything, he'd succeeded in making Catherine even more frightened of him.
A growling sound caught his attention. "What was that?" Kurt wondered.
Catherine glared at him, trying not to shiver as she did so. "I've been riding a horse for three days," she said, as though it were obvious. "I'm hungry."
Kurt scowled right back."Then why didn't you say so? You could have eaten before coming up here; the kitchens are open night and day!"
"Yes, well, I was a little bit distracted by the fact that you invaded my home and forced me to come here!" Catherine shot back, becoming bolder as outrage replaced her apprehension. "What did my father ever do to you, anyway? You had no provocation and no reason to do all of that!"
Kurt glowered at her. "My reasons for doing so are my own," he snapped. "And you are hardly in a position to be making demands, Princess!"
Catherine spread her arms wide. "What are you going to do? Kill me, after you went to all the trouble to bring me to your castle? I think not, Your Majesty!"
Kurt's hotheadedness made a bad situation even worse. "What makes you think I won't have you killed, after speaking to me like that?"
Catherine pointed at Mary and smiled sweetly. "She's still around, isn't she? Some king you are, letting your servants talk to you so!"
Kurt trembled with rage. "At least I still have my kingdom, unlike your father," he snarled.
That did it. Catherine still had no idea if her father were still alive, and Kurt's venomous retort shattered her restraint of the misery and sadness she felt. The princess burst into tears.
Kurt was at once bewildered and appalled. Only moments ago, Catherine was almost scarlet with rage, and yet one retort sent tears streaming down her cheeks. His furious expression crashed to the floor, and though he searched desperately for something to say to her, Kurt's brain went offline at the very instant he needed it the most.
Mary bustled by him, laundry in tow. The chambermaid winked smarmily at him. "Good luck, laddie. Ye'll need it."
"If you're trying to make me feel better, you're not doing a very good job," Kurt muttered.
Mary cackled to herself as her slippers shushed down the stone corridor, but her progress was halted by the aged yet kindly visage of the courtier, Polenicus.
The balding man arched an eyebrow in the direction of Kurt's room. "Dare I even ask?"
Mary snorted. "I think it be goin' rather well, actually, all things considered."
Polenicus sighed wearily. "Don't worry, I'll talk to him. I swear, that boy's going to worry me right into my grave one day…"
It was just as well that the sage decided to offer his counsel, because no sooner had Polenicus approached his king's chambers than the aforementioned monarch stormed outside. Kurt's expression was one of anger and confusion, and he looked at Polenicus with utter exasperation.
The courtier recognized the unspoken question and motioned with his arm. "Walk with me," he instructed, waiting until Kurt fell in step beside him.
The mutant couldn't help but be impatient. "Well?"
Polenicus ignored him. "It was something you said, wasn't it?" he asked, nodding back at Catherine's sobs.
"No!" Kurt automatically denied the accusation, but then he shrugged guiltily. "Well…maybe…"
"My lord, while I applaud the political astuteness of such a marriage, did you ever stop to consider the responsibilities of having a bride?" Polenicus spoke frankly. "She is not an object that one keeps around, Sire. Having a wife is a lifelong commitment; you are obligated to provide for her and keep her safe and happy, and you are expected by your people to be a good and responsible father to any...any children you might have in the future. I fear that you burdened yourself with such cares before you were full ready to deal with them," the sage concluded quietly. "You and I both know that your exposure to women has been rather limited."
Kurt's face fell as the full enormity of his position dawned on him. Polenicus had hit the nail on the head: the king, as usual, hadn't thought out his actions or considered the ramifications of marriage. A weight of guilt and confusion settled on his shoulders. "What do I do? I can't just send her back, can I?"
"No," Polenicus admitted. "That would hardly be proper. I suppose you'll just have to learn on the go, as it were. And I believe an apology might be in order once you return to your chambers, my lord."
Kurt stiffened. Those of the royal line normally didn't have to adhere to such niceties, and Kurt's pride as a newly crowned king would make any such gesture difficult. "Isn't there a less obvious solution?"
"No," Polenicus said firmly. "You need to show her that you care about her feelings, sire. And, if I might take the liberty, a few flowers wouldn't hurt, either."
"Flowers?" Kurt asked, bewildered. "What do flowers have to do with anything?"
"Women love them," Polenicus clarified. "You might want to see if you can find some outside."
"Can't I have a servant do it?"
"You could, but giving them yourself would make you seem much more sincere."
Kurt groaned, knowing he'd been beaten. "Are there any still in bloom?"
Polenicus grinned. "I believe the rear courtyard has a lovely patch of daffodils this time of year."
But Kurt was already gone.
Later…
Catherine sniffled, wiping the last tears from her eyes, and a shuddering breath racked her body as she attempted to dispel her despair. Her cheeks were red and flushed, her nose red as a tomato, and Catherine kicked a chair over bad-temperedly in her helplessness and rage.
That insensitive cad! She thought viciously. He is doesn't even come close to the man Mary described! How can he be so uncaring? Honestly, I have never met a more egotistical, self-centered-
Her mental rant was cut short as the telltale creak of door hinges drew her attention. For a moment, Catherine smiled, thinking it was Mary, but her face hardened as a thoroughly chastened and embarrassed Kurt slunk into his chambers. In one hideously misshapen hand, he bore a platter of food and drink, and a bundle of yellow-colored flora was clutched in the other.
Catherine would have snorted and turned away, had she not been so infatuated with the delicious-looking meal. Kurt took that opportunity to mumble something under his breath.
Catherine glared at him. "I didn't quite catch that," she said frostily.
Kurt resisted the urge to break something. " 'Msorry," he mumbled again.
"What?" Catherine's ears still failed to pick up the muted message.
"I'm sorry, all right?" Kurt snapped, but then he remembered Polenicus' advice and tried to sound sincere. "I'm sorry for…making you cry."
The mutant gestured to the plate. "You said you were hungry, right?"
Catherine needed no further bidding. She pounced on the food like a ravenous wolf, and Kurt pressed something into her hand.
She sneezed. "What are these?" Catherine asked, looking at the arrangement of bright yellow petals.
"Daffodils," Kurt muttered, thoroughly embarrassed. "I thought…"
"I'm don't like daffodils," she replied matter-of-factly, shoving them back. "They make my nose itch and my eyes water."
It took all of Kurt's self control not to send the table crashing through the window. Oh, come ON! he thought disbelievingly. Seriously? I go out into a damn blizzard to pick a bunch of stupid flowers and she throws them in my face! This girl is impossible!
Catherine happened to glance his way, and Kurt was so ashen-faced that she felt a pang of guilt for the brusque way she'd refused the gift. She had to admit that this bizarre king was making some kind of effort to be hospitable, and he now looked so miserable that Catherine couldn't help but try to make him feel a little better.
"But I appreciate the gift, my lord," she added hastily. "It was very…thoughtful of you."
Kurt's brain began launching fireworks. Perhaps he was doing something right, after all. The young regent swallowed his pride before he spoke. "Listen, um, I'm sorry for saying that. About your father, I mean." An idea came to him just then, and Kurt added, "I can let you see him, if you like…"
"He's alive?" The hopefulness on her face made a volley of guilty arrows shoot through Kurt's heart. Catherine had obviously been worried sick about the old man, and now the mutant felt like some kind of monster for keeping her in the dark for so long.
"Yeah…" Kurt tried to valiantly to smile, but the sight of his fangs only served to unnerve his new bride. "I'll have him released, as soon as he proves his loyalty. And I'll tell the guards to expect you."
"Thank you!" So great was Catherine's relief that she jumped up and hugged Kurt right around his blue, furry neck.
Kurt stiffened slightly, as he was not accustomed to such…intimate contact. His coherent thought processes threatened to go offline at the feeling of Catherine's soft, warm body against his own. He felt like he was supposed to do something, anything, but the only action Kurt took was to slowly lift his hands, so as to return the gesture. Kurt was not well-versed in hugging, but he'd seen it enough times to know the basics. The king's whole body seemed alive at Catherine's touch.
Misshapen he may have been, but Kurt was still male.
This fact was not lost upon Catherine. In a cruel twist of fate, she suddenly and quickly pulled away from him before Kurt could summon up the courage to hug her back. The princess's face turned crimson as Kurt's became a much darker shade of blue, and fear made Catherine shudder at the thought of what Kurt might do next.
Kurt shook his furry head, his mind still a primordial ooze. "You should get some rest," he said, and for once his tone did not hint at any hesitation or lack of confidence. Those warped fingers gestured toward the lavish sheets. "I'll…uh…have some nightclothes sent up, if you like."
The king took a step toward her, and Catherine felt every pore of her being ooze with terror. She was now sure that her rash hug had only awakened her new husband's natural urges.
He's going to rape me, Catherine thought sadly. And I can do nothing.
She winced and closed her eyes-
-But was shocked when no such assault was forthcoming. Instead of pinning her down, Kurt walked right past Catherine and curled up, almost catlike, on the luxurious bearskin rug.
It took a moment for her brain to realize that Catherine's new husband was not going to barbarize her. The fact that Kurt preferred to sleep on the floor rather than harm her or make her uncomfortable was actually…
Catherine blushed again. It was actually rather sweet. Certainly other rulers would have had no such compunctions. She was grateful to Kurt for sparing her so, and Catherine opened her mouth to speak, to say something resembling an expression of gratitude.
But there was no point. The steady rise and fall of Kurt's chest let her know that he was already asleep.
Catherine felt her heart soften ever so slightly. She had already determined that Kurt was a haughty, arrogant person with no reins on his mouth, a man who had shattered her idyllic world and brought here, to this strange new place. He'd even had her father imprisoned.
And yet…
Confusion welled up inside the young woman.
Perhaps he is a good person, deep down…
A/N: Awww, don't you just looooove some good, romantic fluff? I hope you all have been enjoying this story so far, 'cause I know I've been having a BLAST writing it! And PLEASE REVIEW! If YOU have any ideas or constructive criticism, LET ME KNOW^^ Coming up: Catherine of Prydian is given a crash course in medieval politics, and the young bride makes a bitter rival in Kurt's court…
Your humble servant,
-Quill N. Inque
