Word had spread fast and wide across the land, and by the end of the week, all of Aêron's kingdom was buzzing with anticipation of the royal wedding. Many visiting royalty extended their congratulations; many having already been acquainted with the Lady Emily, and many adoring the woman nearly as much as the Lord-King did. The people whispered and chattered and cheer amongst themselves, singing praises and joys and cheers for the soon-to-be Queen Consort.
Snow White could take the throne, and all would live happily ever after.
Arwen and Jackesyn were even more delighted by the news than Aêron had anticipated. The Heir Queen had thrown herself into Emily's arms, squealing happily while the Crown Prince had thrown his windows open and frightened the poor gardener when he'd bellowed 'MY BIRTHDAY WISH CAME TRUE AND IT'S NOT MY BIRTHDAY YET!' for all to hear. Once the children had calmed enough to sit still, they then proceeded to sit themselves in front of Emily and Aêron seriously.
"You will be having babies, won't you?" Arwen asked them, oblivious of their mortified faces.
Jack jumped up. "Oh, yes!" he cried. "Do have babies, Father! I want a baby brother!"
"And I a sister!" the Heir Queen added, equally excited. "Ooh, Father, they'll have your dimples and Lady Emmy's beautiful eyes! Have a boy and a girl!"
"Have ten of them!" Jack hollered, bouncing upon his knees, unable to control his glee at the revelation of being an older brother. "I want lots and lots of baby brothers! We'll play War and Dragons all the time and I'll teach them how to shoot arrows from their horses!"
Aêron cleared his throat weakly, face an unhealthy shade of white. "Now, children -,"
Arwen shoved her brother playfully. "I don't want just all little brothers!" she scoffed, wrinkling her nose at the thought before turning to Lady Emily – who looked very much like a petrified doe. "I want a little sister – no, two little sisters! Three, even! I want them to look just like Lady Emily because she's the fairest of the land and the smartest too!" She beamed at the woman, throwing her arms around Emily's neck and hugging her tight.
"May we call you our mother now, Emmy?" Jack asked suddenly, and Emily darted a look at the Lord-King. The young heir fidgeted in his seat now, picking at his fingers as he watched their faces anxiously for an answer. "It's just that you're all I know of a mother, Emmy. Even Arwen says you treat her better than our mother had."
Emily took a moment to compose herself, willing the color to flood back into her face as she gave him a warm smile, though her eyes were still apprehensive and unsure. Arwen shifted in her lap, and the Lady brushed the Heir Queen's dark hair from her face before planting a loving kiss on Arwen's forehead. "You may call me what you like," she told them warmly, and her brown eyes smiled at them both. "But let us wait until after your father and I are actually wed, yes? It wouldn't do for you to call me Mother before I've actually earned the title," she explained patiently.
The Lady glanced at the Lord-King, an anxious gleam in her eyes when she realized that Aêron had been silent all this while. She bit her lip, thinking perhaps the children had struck a nerve with all their talk of titles and their late mother Queen Haley. Emily had come to the kingdom shortly after the birth of the Crown Prince, and did her best to keep within the Queen's good graces. It was clear to all within the castle that Queen Haley took a jealous perception of the Lady Fairschilde, and many times Aêron had struggled to soothe his nearly delusional Queen of her accusations of adultery.
He loved Haley, at least for the better part of their marriage. But perhaps the Lord-King had loved her once before; and then he loved her only as the mother of his children – the children she had barely spared a second glance once she'd birthed a male heir. The Council's words had rung true, though Aêron had refused to believe them at first -
Haley wanted the throne, and nothing else.
Arwen had been born to a disappointed mother and smitten father; raised and taught the ways of the heir of the throne without the love and affections of a mother – until the arrival of Lady Emily to the kingdom. She had learned of acceptance and praise and pride, but somehow it was only Emily's love and affections that seemed to reach the young Heir Queen. Arwen was three years old, and behind closed doors would often refer to Lady Emily as her Mama until she learned otherwise.
No one knew but Emily and Arwen's nanny.
The Lord-King swallowed thickly and gave his children a quiet, serious look. "Before we get ahead of ourselves, children, Lady Emily and I must be joined in matrimony," he told them mildly, and Arwen and Jack sat like impatient puppies for a treat. "You know perfectly well that Lady Emily and I sleep in separate rooms until the ceremony."
"And Lady Jennifer has been keeping me very warm and safe for your father," Emily told them, nodding her head as Aêron darted a sidelong look her way. It was no secret to those in the castle that Jennifer shared her bed; Emily needed to keep warm during the nights, and so did the petite blonde. Perhaps in the night, they shared tales of girlish childhoods and adolescence, giggling and sighing in their wistful way. Sometimes, in the dark of night, when the thunder and lightning raged and the winds howled, they found other ways of distracting each other.
Aêron continued smoothly. "However many children we have -," he darted a look at Emily, and the Lady met it with a blush, "will be decided thereafter."
"We could choose to have no more," Emily added coyly, grinning at the children when they stared at her incredulously, followed by the Lord-King's own sputtering indignation. "Well, two royal children are already a handful, why – imagine what havoc two more would wreak upon your poor Nanny!" she teased, laughing when their faces morphed from anxious uncertainty to petulant scowls.
"Fibbing is wrong, Emmy," Jack chided her, and Lady Emily laughingly inclined her head apologetically to the Crown Prince. Presently their nanny appeared at library door, alerting them of the children's field lessons with Chancellor Rossetti and Captain Morgan. The children went with somewhat heavy hearts; heaviness Emily soothed with loving kisses to their foreheads and playful tickling, as she always did.
With the children gone, Aêron scowled benevolently at his beautiful betrothed. "And here I thought the Lady was abhorred at the thought of having my children," he huffed, shaking his head at the woman.
A demure smile graced Lady Emily's lips, though her eyes flashed like a hungry lioness' at the Lord-King. "Au contraire, my King – I believe soon you will discover that I cannot wait to serve my duty as your Queen and wife."
The Lord-King groaned internally. "You will be the death of me, woman," he croaked, and Emily grinned impishly at him.
"And what a glorious death it will be."
The royal wedding had come.
All of the Thunderfrost kingdom cheered and celebrated, bustling into the castle grounds and crowding its reachable windows for a glimpse of the royal couple as they stood before the entire court of guests. The blushing bride was a sight to behold as she walked down the red carpeted aisle; white and gold and gleaming silver upon her wedding dress that fit the Lady Fairschilde like a dream. The Heir Queen Arwen walked before her, scattering the floor in pretty little flowers and the Crown Prince Jackesyn proudly held the royal rings in front of his sister.
Emily walked slowly and precisely towards her awaiting groom, smiling shyly at the Lord-King from beneath her veil when his eyes lit up at the sight of her. Her dress was modest enough; high collared white lace and golden yellow trimmings that became her as Jennifer and Penelope followed behind her with her train. Lord-King Aêron looked impossibly dashing in his royal garb – he too donned the marital colors of white and gold; off-gold breeches and a crisp white tunic, laced in golden yellow before draping a frost-furred wolf skin cloak upon his broad shoulders.
It was his first kill as Boy King.
On her head was a wreath of white and green – lilies were her favorite flower. On his head was the royal crown of Frost and Steel; bright and gleaming and impressively bejeweled.
At his feet, Emily nodded her head in a low bow, unable to help the smile on her face when she saw the Lord-King's boots appear in front of her, and dragging her eyes up along his body, saw his hazel eyes gleaming at her. Their eyes met, and her smile widened.
"My King," she murmured to him quietly, lowering her head as he reached up to unravel her veil and reveal her face.
Aêron's breath hitched in his chest when he revealed his radiant bride, stroking Emily's fair cheek with the back of his hand as he stared down at her softly. "Aêron," he whispered to her, and held his arm out to be held. "From this day, you call me Aêron."
Emily's eyes gleamed. "Aêron," she said, and the name sat comfortably on her tongue.
It was a name she was meant to speak.
The Lord-King's eyes crinkled as her hand wrapped around his arm, and tucking it closely to his side, he led his beautiful bride to stand before their guests and the magister.
With a calm wave of his hand, the magister began the ceremony; his clear voice carrying easily throughout the large hall. "Aêron Thunderfrost; Lord-King of the Five Realms, Champion of the Tyrant's fall, you stand today under witness of the Fallen Gods to be joined to this woman in soul and matrimony."
Aêron nodded his head, his response unhesitating and sure. "I do."
"You swear on the throne and the blood of your Fallen Gods to honor your bride -," the magister waved his staff over Emily's slightly bowed head. "Cherish your Queen and do the duty that is yours to your kingdom?" The old man stared down at Aêron's face calmly, a steely gaze unwavering upon the Lord-King's face as he waited for the answer. He knew what it was, of course – everyone in the whole kingdom knew of the Lord-King's unrelenting loyalty to the Lady.
"I do," the Lord-King said.
"Do you swear upon your throne and Crown to rule the land with your bride as fairly and peacefully as you have already, and to honor your duty as Lord-King to your lineage?"
He just wanted the Lord-King to say it aloud for once.
Aêron did not disappoint. "I do so solemnly swear that I, Aêron Thunderfrost, Lord-King of All, shall honor and cherish my bride and Queen. I vow to lead my kingdom and all five realms with peace, fairness and strength with my Queen by my side. I vow honor my duty as Lord-King to my lineage...that which I am to bring forth heirs of abundance to my name and throne." His voice resonated through the hall, and their wedding guests rose in a cheer of exultation. "This, I solemnly swear."
The magister beamed at the Lord-King, and from his magical staff a golden tendril weaved its way around Aêron's wrist, glittering translucently. Once it settled like a warm, tingling bracelet around the Lord-King's wrist, the magister set his sights on the curiously watching bride. "Emilynne Prentiss," he announced suddenly, smiling gently at the woman when she jumped at her name.
"Emilynne Prentiss; Lady Fairschilde of the House Prentiss, heir to your father's name, you stand here before the eyes of the Fallen Gods and give vow to join with this man in soul and matrimony."
Emily blinked for a moment, having been distracted by Aêron's vow of producing heirs in abundance. Her cheeks were aflame as she nodded her head regally. "I do."
"In doing so, you now pledge your loyalty and faith upon the throne; vow to honor and rule the Crown and kingdom with fairness and wisdom that which has been bestowed upon you by the Fallen Gods and They Who Wish It Be?"
The Lady glanced off at her groom beside her, catching his eye for the briefest of moment, but it spoke volumes between them. "I do so solemnly swear," she repeated, as per the wedding custom dictated, her eyes never leaving Aêron's. "I, Emilynne Prentiss, Fairschilde of House Prentiss and heir to my father's name, pledge my loyalty and faith in the Thunderfrost throne. I vow to honor my King and my Crown, and to rule the kingdom with fairness and wisdom from my King's side. I vow to honor my King and my duty as Queen Consort…and I shall bring the heirs as that which has been expected of me."
Emily licked her lips, and finished her vow. "This, I solemnly swear."
In a calm rush, the golden tendril wrapped itself around her wrist as well, glowing brightly as it joined their hands in a translucent gleam, before fading away. This was part of the ceremony – this was the binding in matrimony that she and Aêron had vowed to each other. Slowly, Emily turned to him, and he to her, and together they shared a nervous, if giddy smile when the magister came upon them; a goblet in one hand and a very thin, sharp knife in the other.
"Your Grace," the magister said, calmly passing the goblet to Aêron. He waited patiently for the Lord-King to drink, then passing it to the soon-Queen Consort, watching as she drank carefully from the goblet. And then the magister held out his hand for the Lord-King's. Once Aêron had placed his hand in his upturned palm, the magister drew a single, swift drag of the knife's blade across his finger. "Repeat the words as you have known them," he instructed, and guided the Lord-King's hand to Emily's already-red lips.
Aêron slowly allowed the magister to trace his bleeding finger along Emily's lips, simultaneously amazed by the softness of her lips and disgusted by this age-old practice. The binding was permanent, it lasted a lifetime and was never to be broken except by death, and Aêron found a part of himself hating that he had to put Emily through it. Nevertheless, the Lord-King licked his lips and spoke the words he'd spoken only once before. "By blood of my blood; by witness to the Fallen Gods, I seal your lips to be mine, and mine alone. This I vow."
The smell of his blood on her lips was strangely appealing as Emily took in a breath; sharp, rusted and fresh, the Lady had to physically refrain from licking her lips. This was the last and final step of their joining ritual – at least, for the day. The night was a whole other battlefield.
The magister waved his staff around the dark-haired pair. "Seal your vow and wed your wife, O Great King."
And so he kissed her, and Emily thought she was about to faint again from the lightheaded giddiness his lips brought forth. She smothered a moan in her throat when his tongue darted out, licking her bottom lip, and bringing between them the rusted taint of his blood on her lips.
When he pulled back, it was all she could do not to follow after him, but Lady Emily – Queen Emily – found her restraint just in time to see the magister holding aloft reverently the royal crown of the Queen. It was her crown now.
"With this crown, I now dub thee Emilynne Prentiss-Fairschilde; Queen Consort to the Lord-King Aêron Thunderfrost."
Emily bowed to the magister as he crowned her to adoring cheers and jovial cries, smiling as Arwen and Jack unabashedly screamed their happiness amidst the crowd. When she turned back to Aêron, she realized it was the first time she would look upon him as her husband and lover.
Aêron bowed his head to her, grinning. "My Queen," he uttered, before he stepped to her and wrapped an arm around her waist.
"My Emily," he whispered, and his mouth was a blaze against hers once more.