I'm going to speed things up a little bit because I've just realized that the original story only has 9 chapters of story content and I'm on chapter 8 with nonsense. This chapter will start off with the wedding and then we will most likely end with one more chapter (and hopefully a better sex scene).
The Wedding
Michonne sat still while Margaret and five other servants got her ready. She was not allowed to brush her own teeth for fear of doing something wrong or breaking tradition. It was her wedding day and everything should be perfect. Except, she felt less than perfection. Her mother was not present and her sister was currently angry with her. She sighed.
"She will come around, my Lady." A servant said.
"How do you know?" Michonne asked.
"Jealousy. I have seen it many a times and it usually goes away in a fortnight or so. Unless..." She looked to the other servants who all looked at one another. Even Margaret stayed quiet.
"Unless what?" Michonne asked? "Margaret?" She looked to her confidant.
"Unless your Highness' sister is angry at you for something else." The other servants resumed their task, not wanting to get their new future Queen angry with them so early in her term.
"What do you mean? Has she said anything?"
"My Lady, Princess Lorraine has been... upset with you for some time." Michonne's eyes widened. "At first I thought it was because she was not going to be the Queen of France, but I overhead-"
"She was screaming your Highness." A maid corrected.
"It was because Sir Michel is in love with you."
"I do not want Sir Michel. You told her as much did you not?"
"Yes, my Lady, but she refuses to listen. She believes that you will marry King Richard for convenience and then have him as your... bed partner." Margaret said, blushing furiously, knowing that Michonne had been spending her nights with the King.
"That is not possible."
"We know, your Highness." All the women nodded, they knew where she was in the evenings and they were excited that the future King and Queen were entranced with one another. She would perhaps guide him and prevent him from starting needless wars that took their husbands and sons from their homes.
"You know?"
"Yes, we have eyes everywhere, but we can also keep a secret as grave as yours."
"So... You do not hate me?" She looked at each and everyone one of them and they all shook their heads.
"No, my Lady. You have made our King most happy. He has not yelled once since your arrival. We believe you to be a great asset to our lands."
Michonne smiled tearily. "Then I will not disappoint you."
. . .
"The key, your Highness." Margaret said as she handed Michonne the key to her chest. Michonne was wearing a white, long-sleeved dress with gold trims. Her bodice gave her a very curvaceous illusion, of which she knew Richard would enjoy. Her head was adorned with a small veil - which would be adjusted or removed, depending on the contents of the "treasure chest" and her neck and ears were adorned with heavy and shiny jewelry. She took a deep breath.
"Thank you, Margaret." She said as she hugged her best friend.
Michonne stared at the chest, she could hear her heartbeat in her ears.
"Open it." Margaret urged. She was equally as excited and nervous as her mistress. Michonne jolted at the sound of Margaret's voice and quickly opened the chest. Inside were neatly folded and impeccably embroidered white sheets along with a dozen purple candles - her mother's favourite colour as well as a short nightgown made of soft white silk lay inside a heavy cloak made from the best cotton. Michonne put the belongings in Margaret's hands.
She then unveiled several small items socks and christening wear and soon realized that they were for her future children. She nearly choked, but refused to let the women's hard work to go waste. At the bottom of the chest lay a wooden box. She took the box out and opened it. Inside, there was a tiara made of silver and sapphire.
"I want to wear this instead."
"Of course." Margaret happily replied.
The two women went about removing her original tiara and replacing it with her mother's. Despite the fact that it was not the tiara her mother had worn on her wedding day, she had recognized it from her mother's many paintings. It was her favourite item. Michonne blinked more tears away and steeled her jaw, there would be time for tears later.
"I can do this." She said to herself. "Mother, past queens, please be my guides and let your courage be with me."
. . .
Michonne linked her arm to her father's and smiled. Today was going to be the start of the rest of her life. Her father patted her hand in encouragement and she smiled wider. "You can come and visit anytime you want." He whispered before the church doors opened.
"I will."
. . .
Michonne stood next to her betrothed, and very soon husband-to-be at the altar. The church was larger than she had expected. In fact, she had not visited the church she would be married at because she had been stubborn for the past month and a half. She inhaled and exhaled deeply before facing Richard.
The ceremony was in Latin and Michonne was grateful for it. She knew that the English were not Catholics and despite being fluent in English, she did not know what she would do if she were to have to convert to the Church of England. The priest - in all his boring glory - mumbled on about the royal couple's responsibilities to God. Michonne wanted to roll her eyes because she knew that the Roman Catholic Church - of all religions - fornicated with both men, women, and children. They were hypocrites for all she knew.
Richard smiled at her, noticing her bored appearance, and she smiled back. The priest cleared his throat and both went back to bowing their heads in prayer. After what felt like an hour, the priest looked to Richard and mumbled words for him to repeat. Michonne did not care to listen to his words for they were scripted, but she did hear him say yes, as though her ears were desperate to confirm his want of her. The priest then turned to her and she repeated the exact words he told her. When it came time for her to respond, she froze- she was terrified.
"Do you, Michonne d'Évreux, former Crown Princess of France, take Richard I of Ireland and England?" She looked at the priest who impatiently waited for her answer. "Do you-" He started again, but she cut him off.
"Yes." She said. She heard Richard breathe a sigh of relief. "I do."
. . .
A flame lit inside Michonne the moment the door was gently shut behind. Despite there being five men present, she went on the tips of her toes and kissed him. She wanted to kiss him all night and did not care who was present. He squeezed her hip with one hand, the other moving over the curve of her bottom. The men gasped and Richard pulled away, there would be time for that later.
"Your Highness, we are here for a specific purpose, not for pleasure or exercise." A fat and balding man said matter-of-factly.
"Of course." His face was stern but his eyes were twinkling.
After the wedding celebrations were over and a very much needed confession as to why she was struck to silence during the ceremony, Richard and Michonne had made it to his rooms where they would seal the marriage.
"You are so beautiful," he said, his voice low so that the men would not overhear.
"Kiss me." She bedded begged.
He kissed Michonne slowly and led her to the bed. Upon touching the heavily blanketed bed - the sheets her mother had left her - she paused. Everything was so surreal.
"I thought that you would appreciate them."
"Thank you." She said, teary eyes and he responded by caressing her face and neck. She was wearing a shorter nightgown which made it easier for him to explore. He lifted the item slowly and settled between her legs. The feel of his skin hot against hers was neither new nor unwelcome, but the thought of what was going to happen was petrifying. Michonne first adjusted herself to his weight, then lightly grinded her pelvis against his like he taught her. He groaned and smiled.
There was a question flashing on his face. They had slept together before, but never actually partaken in intercourse. It would hurt for her, he knew and she would feel humiliated for being in such a vulnerable position with this many people present. "You are mine and I will take care of you for the rest of my days."
"I want this, Richard. I do." She was turned on by the fact that we had total skin-to-skin contact, but nervous because it would hurt. She slowly exhaled, trying to calm my nerves and allowed him to remove the nightgown from her body. He then lifted himself from her and removed his tunic. Michonne openly and wantonly stared at his body, uncaring if the men were judging her for it. He was her husband now and she could do whatever she pleased with him. "Take these off too." She said as she touched his manhood.
Richard barely kept in a moan as she stroked his chest.
"Does this hurt you?" She innocently asked, as if she had not familiarized herself with his body. He huffed, playing along and she raised her eyebrows at him, returning to her task. She played with his nipples which made one of the men look at her questioningly and drew the outline of his lips when he brought his forehead to hers. "Take them off, Richard." She purred.
He shifted in his spot, not wanting to be away from her heat any longer, and kicked off his pants, revealing a pale and round ass. He brushed a flat palm along her breasts and stomach, tracing a light line with his fingers. Michonne giggled, a man coughed, and Richard kissed her again to stop her.
Richard licked and nipped at her lips. He carefully dragged his fingers to her centre, hoping that none of the men interrupted his exploration of her so help him God. Michonne watched his face silently as he slowly entered her with his middle and ring finger. She gasped, eyes wide, as his fingers soaked up her juices and stretched her in the best way possible. She squirmed and he grinned.
He leaned down to suck on her breast and she grabbed his hair out of habit. She moaned as he tasted and teased her and was so caught up in his movements that she forgot that there was an audience watching, waiting for the royal couple to do produce an heir.
Richard did not let Michonne finish. Instead, he pulled out his fingers and licked them. Michonne and the men watched in aroused horror as he sucked on his own fingers. He then stroked his length against her sensitive bud a few times before pushing into her. Michonne cried out, she felt like she was being ripped in two. Rick held her close and tried to help her relax.
"Move, please."
He complied instantly and started moving his hips shallowly so as to not hurt her. He wanted her to get used to his size before moving faster or deeper inside her. He felt like he had died and gone to heaven; her walls were so tight, he did not know whether he was going to last or combust.
Michonne breathed deeply and loudly. "Faster." She whispered into his mouth. She had quickly gotten over the pain and now wanted to enjoy herself. "Faster, please."
He thrust into her faster, causing his already unkempt hair to flop wildly above his head. She moaned aloud with every thrust, the odd mixture of pleasure and pain coursing through her body. She fell back onto the bed, letting him take over. He lifted himself up and grabbed her hip with one hand and her breast with the other. He fucked her mercilessly and she immediately decided that this was how she would want it with him every single time. He moved his hand from her breast and towards her clitoris, he was going to make sure she finished alongside him.
Her hips bucked wildly against his; he could feel her walls tightening signalling her orgasm. He chuckled breathlessly, knowing that he was going to finish very soon after her. She cried out again, this time with an attempt to push his hand away, but he did not relent. She crunched her face and shut her eyes and came harder than she ever though possible. His hand returned to her breast and he softly knead it as he emptied himself inside of her. He fell on top of her, spent, and Michonne laughed. She wrapped her arms around the upper half of his body and placed soft kisses on his face, ear, and neck. Richard nuzzled his sweaty face into hers.
"Is that all, gentlemen?" Michonne asked under Richard who was too comfortable in his nudity and too happy in his position to address them himself.
"Yes." The men mumbled, blushing furiously. "We shall meet again tomorrow morn with the paperwork and discuss your coronation. Goodnight Your Highnesses."
Once the men had left the room awkwardly holding the front of their robes, Richard turned to face Michonne and kissed her. The newlywed couple started making out again like wild boars, exploring each other until her neck began to ache. He turned them over so that she could stretch her arms and so that he could enjoy the view of his perfect new bride.
