Jiraiya interpreted as a villain. The aesthetic is very LotR and FE, so like old European aesthetics like castles and fancy princess dresses so keep that in mind.
For hours now you've banged on the door. You've yelled and demanded to be released. It's only when you had finally lost your strength did something happen. The door opened. A maid entered. A few more followed her. You are scooped off of the floor and handled like a doll. Any hope for dignity is stripped from you as your clothing is taken off of you. You are dressed in an elegant dress that any little girl obsessed with princesses would have dreamed to be dressed in. But you are not a princess.
Like many who had come before you, you have been picked to be the bride of the king. Your predecessors have all disappeared under circumstances that can only lead to one conclusion. The king is cruel. One false move and you could end up like them. Missing. Erased from the castle like they never stepped foot in these halls.
"Come, my lady. You are expected to join his majesty for dinner." One of the maids said.
Do you have a choice? You follow the woman. You are exhausted. For now the fight had fled. As you smell food, a mix of emotions fly around your body. A deep growl from your stomach. As you were taken from your home around midday. You hadn't even had lunch. That is followed by sorrow. Your parents were nearly killed as you were taken away by the king's guard. They begged that you be spared.
The cruelty the king is known for shone through true as he merely laughed at their pleas. He mocked them. He was truly amused at how they hated his choice to take you. They thought it was for a job. While they embellished a few of your qualities, they did say truths about you. They wanted to boast about their proud family in front of the king. How were they supposed to know it was because the king had fancied you to be his next fiancée?
Next to come was fear.
King Jiraiya has a terrifying reputation. The tales of his hardships are now well known. He spoke of them when he took the throne. He wasn't born into the luxuries of royalty. He was a bastard. A royal the family would rather forget about since he was born under sinful circumstances. His mother merely a maid one of the king's brothers decided to have an affair with. His mother was dumped to a small village and left to raise her child by herself where both her and her son could be easily put out of mind. And they did forget about him.
That was until five years ago. It was a the scariest part of history to live through. When a man decides he's better at running a kingdom more than his relatives. He's a skilled fighter. So many soldiers fell. So did the king. That was soon followed by the king's sons.
The kingdom didn't fall into ruin as one would expect from a coup d'état. His highness was in many ways correct in how he could improve the kingdom. Despite the blood stained throne, the people didn't suffer. Maybe that's what frustrated people. Jiraiya is very good at leading. He retook control of his kingdom. The clergy was making major decisions when his uncle merely wore the crown and directed whatever "the gods" had ordered. It only seemed to benefit them overall rather than the kingdom as a whole. In a way Jiraiya was doing better as a leader. He did what would benefit everyone. From the poor to the rich, all was considered in each move he made.
He's also ruthless. The soldiers still loyal to the old king tried so many times to overthrow Jiraiya as he had overthrown them. He slaughtered them. Any one showing signs of revolution died swiftly. Even to this day after this many years there are people still attempting to assassinate him or storm the castle. They never succeed. He's not foolish enough to let them live when they try. Perhaps that's why his wives didn't last long. They rebelled against the tyrant that had no mercy.
As one would expect a king to have, his table is large for many guests. It's carved out of redwood and ornately so. He's sat at the head casually. He's wearing a simple green robe that was tied lazily. It showed off a large part of his chest and abdomen. He's leaned back in his large chair with his feet on the table. He's seemingly distracted by his wine glass, which is holding a red liquid that he's slowly swirling around and staring at.
"Sit." He commands, gesturing with his glass to the chair to his left.
You don't move for a moment. It's weird being so close to him. To a man that gave off power. One that stole your away without your permission. One that will most certainly kill you if you don't follow exactly what he says. He looks up from his glass.
"Now."
You walk slowly. Not to annoy him... Okay maybe a little. But in all fairness your legs didn't want to move faster than a cautious tiptoe. You take a seat to the left of your king, unsure what to do.
"Wine?" He asks.
You aren't sure. Getting even a little bit drunk around him sounded like a terrible idea. What would he do? What won't he do? Can you even refuse? Would he consider taking your head if you answer a simple question and he didn't like it?
"I'm not going to poison you."
This is the closest you've been to him. What is there to say? At least he's handsome? Fair in skin. He's tall with strong manly features. Like a squared jaw and straight pointed nose. A smile that could sell the most blatant of lies and black coloured eyes that are deceptively kind looking, but lack the warmth of a true love. Like all of those related to the royal bloodline of this kingdom, he has red markings. His are a set of matching red lines that ran down from his eyes to his jaw, almost like tear tracks. They are simple compared to his once living kin.
All of this is framed with long white hair that is as unruly as his conduct. He's fit. You know he's strong. You haven't seen him in battle but it is easy to see how he overwhelmed his kin. From what little detail is known of his past, Jiraiya grew up with little of the luxuries his more noble cousins grew up with. He has an edge that most nobles don't. A drive for survival. It's no wonder so many fell at his feet. He had actual experience. None of his family did.
"What about food? You must be hungry."
You look at him. He simply smiles before snapping his fingers. A second later, servants with platters of food are entering the dining room. They are set down on the table in no particular order. Once the lids to the platters are lifted, it revealed the most amount of food you have ever seen. Fine dining foods like roast and all the trimmings only those of high status can afford.
"I didn't get a chance to hear what you like, so I asked my chef to make us something with choices." The king said. "Go ahead. You are welcome to the comforts royalty brings."
A plate is set in front of you. It is empty. It's awaiting for you to serve yourself. Your host has already began to pick out what he likes. Now sitting properly in his chair, the king is picking out the things he wants to eat. He's not as glutinous as one would think a king would be. He doesn't eat like a rude noble either. The few you have been in the company in eat like pigs. King Jiraiya eats with some manners, even though he owed no one the privilege.
"Do you enjoy it?"
You nod. While this all feels so strange and sorrowful, you do need to eat and kings have good food.
"Come now. Won't you speak to me?" The king asks with a smile. He propped his elbow on the table and rested his head in hand. "I know you have a voice. I've heard it yelling all kinds of demands for hours."
"Sorry, your highness." You murmur. "I don't have much to say to you."
"Is that so? Why would that be?"
You look at him. Perhaps your expression is too free. He looks at your face slowly. Then he laughs.
"You're mad at me." He came to the right conclusion. "I suppose I can understand why."
He stands. You watch as he makes his way slowly towards you. The tips of his fingers are dragging along the table.
"My poor betrothed. Taken from her home." His tone is soft but full of mockery. You stare at your plate once he made it to behind your chair. "Torn from her family." His lips tickle your ear. "And given everything she could ever want. Food, fine clothing. The riches of my family. She's even living in the most secure building in all the land. Right beside the man who holds all the power. Yet she is ungrateful for all these gifts simply because she didn't want them."
"I don't want them." You hiss.
"Oh I know. You are no different from the wives I had before. They were all so reluctant to be apart of the monarchy and assure that my line will last another generation."
"Is that all you want?" You ask. "A woman to have your child?"
"It's not like I have anyone else to pass the crown too. I took the lives of those too close to taking the throne. In all honesty my line is close to dying out."
For the first time he touches you. His hands land heavy on your shoulders.
"The best part about all of this is my right as king to pick any woman I want to be my queen. It doesn't really matter what you think. You are mine."
He does have that right, doesn't he? As king he can have whatever he wishes. It's only because he's got an even temper and intelligence that this country is doing as well as it is. In many ways he's improved life here. In other ways he's not. He's holding onto the rights that suit to his favour while dismissing those that don't.
"Why me?" You ask. There's not much else to ask. He's made himself quite clear on all other aspects.
"Why not you? Beautiful. Smart. Opinionated. That makes for a good queen." He pauses. His thumbs rub circles into your shoulders. "Although I'm wondering if you have been talked up too much. You seem no different than the little mice I made the mistake of marrying before."
"I'm nothing like the women you have stolen before."
"Prove it."
What a jerk! You scoot your chair back far and hard enough to force him to stagger. You stand and turn sharply away. His laughter echoes around the hall. It's loud. Almost annoyingly so. It drums in your ears with its mocking tone. You pick up your skirts for a quicker get away. With your larger strides you return to your room in record time. It would be more pleasant to rot in this room than play that man's game.
You dismissed the maids and got yourself out of this stupid dress. Once down to your shift, you collapse into bed. It was hard to get sleep since you were fuming with anger at the king's attitude. Eventually you drift off, but your neck seemed to tingle with the memory of his lips near it and the heat from his hands laying heavy on your shoulders. They haunted you as you laid in bed. Although you aren't sure why your body refused to forget his first touch.
In the morning, you went through the same routine as the night before. Only this time you didn't pound on the door for hours or scream. Maids came in with a dress, helped you change, and you were escorted by them to where the king wanted you to go. This time you ate a quiet meal by yourself before being lead away. It is somewhat nice it have an escort. This castle is so big it's hard to know what leads where. It's all hallways that seem to go to even more hallways.
This time his highness met you in the gardens that are behind the confusing structure. Like any garden belonging to a noble, it is well tended. The grass is lush and cut short. Hedges are cut in symmetrical rectangles. The flowerbeds are in organized rows by colour. All of them are roses. Red. White. Green. Black. They resemble their king well.
There's a large section in the centre of the spacious yard that is laid with stone. That stone is flat and even like a well laid road, but clean and in a decorative pattern. The pattern is that of the crest of the royal family, which is a rose. The colours of the flowers are that of the royal favourites. The flowerbed of organized roses are around the edge of this circle, except for the paths marked in stone that led to the other parts of the garden. With Jiraiya standing dead centre of the stonework, it looks like the roses are awaiting his order.
He turns to face you once he hears your approach. Today he's dressed more like a king. A green tunic that is fine cut and embroidered around the edges in silver thread. A white undershirt with long sleeves. Dark gray trousers with black boots that are stamped with a pattern similar to the embroidery. A red floor length cape completes his look, with the top folded around his shoulders and pinned together by a silver broach, which is shaped like the royal crest, at his right breast. Rather simple for a king. In fact most nobles that live in the castle town dress more fancy than this on the daily. It's still regal, but not as decorated as one would expect a king to be dressed as. He has on no fine crafted jewelry or precious gemstones weaved into the embroidery. He's not even wearing his crown.
"Welcome to the gardens! Pretty, right?" Jiraiya announced as he gestured to the area around him.
"Yes, they are." You say curtly. As much as a jerk as he is, you do have to compliment his staff's work on the yard.
"This is where we'll get married."
"..."
"In two days, you'll be here." He continued. He pointed to a spot that was at the top of the stone circle. There's an archway made of white wooden lattice. More wild vines of roses are woven and grown into it. It would make for a good place to be wed. "And I'll be beside you. The priest will marry us in the evening and by nightfall we will have a party to celebrate."
"Who would come to this party?"
"Lords and ladies to witness the union."
"..."
Great, an evening of playing nice. While you don't like him, behaving poorly would reflect badly on the nation. Refusing to dance or speak to him won't do any good. Jiraiya most likely won't stand for it. Any sight of weakness in front of powerful people is something he wouldn't like. It could lead to your beheading.
Then of course there's the wedding night. A time where your mother said your virtue is to be given to your husband. She explained it in a way that sounded scary. Maybe that's how his wives went missing. After a night with him, they... sigh. He just doesn't seem like the gentle type.
"Are you afraid?"
You snap your attention to the king. His expression is coy. With a smile you are tempted to smack off.
"No." You snap. "I'm not afraid of anything. Least of all you, my lord."
"Good." He said before offering you his hand. "Come on. Allow me the privilege of showing you around."
You don't move or take his hand. You stare at him. A good part of you, perhaps your self preservation, is telling you not to.
"I don't bite." He promises. "I want to show you what will soon be your castle too."
What choice do you have? Not much aside from running away or taking his offer. Even if you did run, he would catch you. You take his hand and he links your arm around his as he began to escort you.
Your fingers and arm tingle. It's like his touch is make of static. You don't pay much attention to his tour. He didn't take you back inside. He led you around the rest of the garden. There's a pond. It's nice looking. Small and not too deep. With lily pads and a couple of frogs perched on them. They sang a few notes to each other at the approach of humans, but didn't leave their beds. There's a large tree beside the pond that is providing them shade. The bright red small fruits dotting the branches plainly gave away what it was. A cherry tree.
His majesty reached up and plucked one. He inspected it. Then turned towards you, holding it out.
"Do you like cherries?" He asks.
"I do."
With a side of caution, you take the berry from him. A king giving you something? Odd. But he's wholly weird as a monarch. These flashes of humble must be left over from his simple upbringings. He's been all too eager to indulge in the finer things nobility brings. You watch him as you bite the fruit from its stem. You accidentally bite the pit. You spit it out to avoid any choking.
Swifter than a cat, Jiraiya caught your chin. He had his hand around your jaw with his fingers digging into spots that ache. It kept your lips pursed. Before you could ask, he pressed his lips against yours. It's rough. Your breath is stolen by it. Your first kiss ever and it's... hard. Nothing like any dream a young maiden would fantasize about. You grip his arm tightly as he pulled you closer. His tongue ran along your teeth. Panic began to rise in you as he poked and prodded, looking for any gap he can wiggle his way through.
Your brain is screaming for a solution. He has to stop! He dug his fingers into the hinge of your jaw harder. You part your teeth. His tongue violated your mouth.
Bite!
You clamp your teeth to catch his tongue. The taste of blood floods your mouth, overtaking the pleasant taste of cherry. Jiraiya froze. He turned lax enough for you to pull away. You managed to put the king into a state of stunned surprise. You push him, too angry to be composed. The grand king stumbled and fell directly into the pond.
You turn and run back inside. You don't know where you're going. You make blind turns. You don't know where anything is. Stupid castle! Where is the damned door!? It's a big stupid wooden arch! Why is it suddenly invisible?!
Your foot got caught on your skirt. You fell forward on your face. Pain stings your hands, knees, and chin. The stone you fell on was far from soft. Your splat to the ground echoed. You look around to see what room you are in.
It's the throne room. To your right not so far away are two chairs upon a platform. The chairs themselves are wood, carved with the expert hand of a craftsman, and white in colour. Except for the old splash of red on the king's throne. It's a spatter from when Jiraiya oh so swiftly cut down his uncle. The rest of the blood has been washed away from this room except for the splatter on the chair. The white throne is no longer white. It seems he liked that poetic expression of his reign.
The queen's chair beside it isn't touched. It hasn't been for a while. The crown meant for the woman in question sits on the black cushion of her empty throne.
"Well."
You jump as Jiraiya's voice resounds around the room. You turn to see he's behind you. He's soaked. Pond water is dripping off his clothes. A thin stream of blood is running from the corner of his mouth to his chin. He doesn't look mad. He looks amused.
"You are feisty." He said with a calmness that sent chills up your spine. It didn't come off genuine. It's the type of calm before a great storm. He made his way towards you, wiping his face free of blood. "I think I'm in love."
He picked you off of the ground, hauling you up by your arm. You remain limp. This is it. Your blood is going to be on that throne. You bit and pushed the king. No one will live past that. He's killed people for less.
A whine leaves your throat when you are tossed. You land clumsily in the red stained throne. You thunk against the wood and it didn't break your fall gently. It flared up the aches you gained from tripping. Jiraiya blocked you in, placing himself in front of you with his hands on the arm rests of the throne. He invaded your personal space again with another kiss.
He tastes like blood. His hand violates you more, gripping your thigh. Your achy hands have an iron grip on his wet shirt. So much of you wishes to bite him again. No man has the right to behave like this to a lady, king or not!
Yet this kiss has you. It's like hugging fire and enjoying it. It's hot. Almost too hot to bear. Despite the heat almost blistering your skin you don't want to step away. The warmth and liveliness of the flames are too mesmerizing to leave.
He broke the kiss, leaving you breathless and confused. This isn't the reaction you expected. Surely you have signed your death certificate when you bit him. Unless he's into that. He seems to be. His smile is tinged with a thin film of red from his bloody tongue. He must of seen your confusion. He's enjoying it, but he takes the time to explain why he's so bemused by your outburst.
"You are safe from my wrath, my dear. Like I told you before, I need a worthy strong woman to be by my side."
Worthy? Strong? Is that how he sees you? It makes your head spin. This man is so confusing to be around.
He steps back, freeing you of his suffocating presence. You slowly stand, your legs feeling like jelly.
"You should retire to your room. You don't look well." Jiraiya suggests. "I'll see you at dinner."
You simply nod before taking a few steps. You stop with a realization.
"I don't know the way."
"Is that so?..." He paused. His hands rest on your hips and his warm body pressed against your back. "My room is closer. You can retire there if you don't have the strength to make it to yours."
"Will you be there?"
"No, unfortunately. I have duties to attend to."
Surprisingly, you are disappointed. After an ordeal like this, wouldn't it make sense to be relieved or freighted? But you aren't. He won't hurt you. He likes you.
He gently pushes you along, leading you to his room. You don't fight. A few hours alone to gather your thoughts sounds good. He opened the door and your eyes land on the largest thing in the room, the bed. Like everything else he owns, it's ostentatious in presentation. Wooden, carved with vine like designs. A large canopy bed that has silky red drapery and sheets. He guided you to the bed and had you sit down.
The king left you a moment later. He casted you a look before shutting the door behind him. It's hard to say what he meant by it. It's amused. It's affectionate. It leaves you with a wash of heat over your body. You flopped down onto your back. The soft sheets embrace you. The events had exhausted you. A man kissing you. Touching you. Making you angry and flustered. Getting you feeling... strange about him. You are mad at him, but you want him near you. Somehow his brash bold infuriating presence has you wanting more...
The smell of food rouses you. You must have drifted off. When you open your eyes, a familiar man is beside you. You are eye level with his chest. You look up to meet Jiraiya's face. He's laid provocative on his bed. On his side facing you with his green robe the only thing on. It's showing more than you should see before you are married. A silver platter full of food is the only thing separating you from him. It's full of fruit, cheese, and bread. He pops a cherry into his mouth and smiles at you.
"How was your nap, are you feeling better?" Jiraiya asks you sweetly.
"Yes... thanks."
"I figured since your health isn't in the best shape, I brought dinner to you."
"My health is fine."
"I beg to differ."
You scowl at him. Jerk. Why must he goad you on? He seems to take joy in annoying you. Your fall earlier had hardly left a bruise. His kisses and behaviour stung more than the fall. You roll to a comfortable position that mirrored his pose. You look over the food again with careful consideration before picking out what looks best. The finer delicacies grace your pallet as you pick off of the platter. Some of the cheeses are too fancy for peasants to afford. Never in your life would you have imagined you'd get to enjoy things like this.
"Wine?" He offers.
"That would be nice."
He rolls around to the side table by the bed. A moment later he's back holding a pair of glasses and a bottle. He does the honour of pouring you a glass then his own. You cheer your glass to his when he held it towards you with that expectation.
It's good wine. Fruity with a heavy hint on cherry. Perhaps it's made with the cherries in the castle. You drink with him. If you can get away with biting him, he won't poison your wine. It's not long until the bottle is empty and the platter cleared. Jiraiya swept the ware off of the bed and crawled over top of you.
The sweet taste of cherry wine meets your lips as he kisses you. You hold onto the back of his head, running your fingers through his wild white hair. It's soft despite how spiky it looks. Those touches that burn and tingle are all over you again.
Your skirt is pushed up and his hands touch your bare legs. The modest values you have grown with are dissolving around you. It's expected of both men and women to wait until marriage to do such acts. He's been married before. He knows what he's doing. You don't. Butterflies are flying around your belly as a man touches you so intimately.
His fingers touch places that send shivers up your spine. It's hard not to clamp up. Your legs are squeezing his hand as he strokes and plays with your sex. Your hitched cries are muffled by his mouth. This time when his tongue joined yours, you welcomed it.
Your body is filled and overwhelmed with a feeling you've never felt before. Like the tension of a good stretch in your core and legs. When you tensed, Jiraiya only worked harder. He picked up his pace on fingering you, pushing and curling his fingers into places that sent waves over you.
"Gah!" Your force the kiss to break to cry out.
He sucked in a breath. Your eyes connected with his and he watched you with great focus as you become undone from his touch.
It takes some time to come down from such a high. Jiraiya lays pressed against you, panting and rubbing your thigh. As you relax, he places kisses on the side of your neck.
"Did you enjoy that?" He whispers in your ear, nipping the lobe right after.
"Yes... that was... great."
"Glad to hear it."
He laid your skirt back down your legs and rested his hand on your hip. He was content to be beside you. You may not know a lot about this, but is the deed truly done? Isn't he wanting something.
"What about you?" You ask.
"Me?" He huffs a laugh. "I'm fine. I'm waiting till our union for that sort of fun."
"Right."
"Unless my betrothed has become impatient enough to live in sin."
You glower at him and consider hitting that smug grin off of him. Infuriating man. Must he tease you? He laughs as you glare at him. It's a nice laugh. It would be better if he wasn't using something that sounded so good at your expense.
His highness' amused laughs die down and finish with a kiss to your lips. Afterwards he got up and blew out the candles that lit the room. With the darkness of night now dampening your sight, you slip under the covers and he rejoins you at your side quickly. He's rather warm. Sleeping beside a man for the first time was surprisingly easy.
The next day was spent getting wedding preparations swiftly done. Jiraiya has insisted you don't have to be involved more than you have to. He was orchestrating most of it. There's not much to choose anyways. It is a royal wedding. The colours are that of the royal family. The decorations are ones that have been used in royal weddings before. The only thing that's original is your dress.
You don't mind it. It could be worse. It's not ghastly like some royal fashion, where there's too much. It's not simple either. It has details that are suited for a queen to be. Floor length as all proper dresses are. With long sleeves cut like wings that brush the floor as well. It's white, but had accents of the royal colours. With shimmery beads in black, red, jade, and pearl on the bodice. At first glance it looked random in its placements, but upon closer look and connecting the dots the beads make it is in fact in the pattern of the royal crest.
"Nice." Jiraiya announces his presence with a single word.
You turn from the mirror to where he is standing. The seamstress adjusting your gown bowed and took a step back when he approached. The king walked around you, inspecting you and the dress carefully.
"Very nice. You look gorgeous."
"Isn't it bad luck to see your bride in her dress?"
"Not when I'm paying for something beautiful to be made." He retorts coolly. He looks over at the woman who stitched your dress together. "You've done well."
The seamstress smiles and thanks him with another bow. He paid her no more mind. His focus is on you. His wife to be. Such a promising young woman you are. You look perfect in that dress.
"Soon, my dear." He said as he took your hand. "You'll be mine for the rest of our lives."
"Will I really?"
"What?"
Is it rude to ask? Will he kill you for such a question? He hadn't yet and you pushed him into water yesterday. Surely you can speak your mind.
"What if I do what your other wives had?"
His smile drops. He doesn't say anything for a while.
"My previous wives didn't disappoint me." He answered. "They were set free. They weren't suited for the role I put them in and miserable trying. So I let them go with enough money to get by and... persuaded to stay quiet of their past."
It's better than thought. King Jiraiya has been so mercilessly in his ruling it wouldn't be a surprise if he had his old wives put to death. Even if he did let them go, there's a lingering threat. Persuaded to stay quiet.
Or maybe he's just lying to you. He's not one to leave loose ends. Look what it did to his uncle and cousins.
"What if I disappoint you?" You ask quietly.
"Impossible." He replies. His smile returned. It's gentler. "A woman as wonderful as you could never disappoint me."
The king bent forward and placed a kiss on your knuckles. His dark eyes casted up at you. They've always been sharp with danger, but now they're soft with affection. The calculations and critical thinking he does with those he doesn't trust isn't present when looking at you. You turn your hand so that it caresses his face. His cheek is soft.
"Come darling, get out of that dress and meet me in the gardens. Our stage is almost set." With those last words he left.
With the aid of the seamstress you undress out of your wedding gown and get dressed in the gown you had on before. The castle isn't so confusing anymore. You make your way to the gardens without the need for escorts.
It has changed in appearance. With chairs dressed with white bows in rows facing the arch in the garden. Ribbons of the royal colours are weaved in the arch. Banners of the royal crest are flying high on poles on either side of it. A pedestal is set to the side, on the side Jiraiya will stand by you, with an empty space. It's for your crown. While the priest has the only high power to crown a royal, it is tradition for the one being married into the crown to be first taken by the priest then the monarch to crown their spouse as a sign of unity among them.
"Do you think it's missing anything?" Jiraiya asks.
"No. This will do."
"You don't sound that enthused. Is something bothering you?"
You shake your head. The ceremony looks as intimate as it can be. It's the crowd of nobles that will be gawking that is irksome. Then you have to deal with a whole evening of dealing with the highest most entitled people in the kingdom. Without a doubt you'll be speaking to people who will test and judge you all night. Not just you, but your husband to be. And while they'll be careful to not utter a word of ill will to him, that won't be applied to you.
"I suppose I'm not one for noble company." You sigh. "I don't like high bloods."
"Like me?" He asked.
"No, you're different. You weren't born into all that privilege. They are and they can be quite insufferable."
A burst of Jiraiya's loud laughter filled the area. He braces his chest as he laughs with his whole body. You flush and frown at him.
"What's so funny?" You demand to know why he's bursting at the seams.
"I couldn't agree more! They are quite snooty, aren't they?" He replies once he's over his fit. "There's nothing more dreadful than a night in lordly company!"
A smile does crack your face. At least there are things you and him can agree on. Jiraiya pulls you against his body and held you in a lazy imitation of a waltz. You hold onto him in the same way as you stare into his obsidian eyes.
"You know, technically all we need is these nobles to witness the union. There's nothing in our customs that say we must host a party." He says with a scheming smile. "How about we spend our reception by ourselves? All that food can be given to our staff and we can spend it as newlyweds should, together!"
"That sounds wonderful, my king."
"Please, we're past that now. Call me by my name."
"As you wish, Jiraiya."
His smile grows before he leans in to give you a kiss. You melt into it. The rest of your day with him is spent very similar to the last. Only with less falling into water and more of his golden touch.
The day of, your fiancé was uncharacteristically scarce. Which only served to rise your anxieties. In all plainness, how do you feel about your king now? In the days you've been in this castle, your views have been changed. To you, Jiraiya is quite sweet. He's also a real royal jerk. Each unsavoury thing he's said to you has been a test of sorts. It feels like you passed them. You are woman worthy of not just the throne, but his companionship. Perhaps even his love.
Do you love him?
Hard to say. You're attracted to him. There's not much to complain about with his looks. His bouts of being infuriating is weirdly charming. You care about what he thinks even if he does drive you crazy. He's not that much of a tyrant as he parades himself to be. Not to you anyways.
A maid fetched you and kindly asked that you go to the dinning hall. It's already close to noon. It's an odd time to meet. Perhaps Jiraiya had something to tell you that cannot wait. You enter the hall.
A familiar voice cried your name. Your mother is running towards you across the hall. You meet her part way into a tight hug. Your father joined a moment later. The tears you had put off come back with a vengeance. You hold your parents hugs that you have missed greatly.
"Are you hurt?" Your mother asks. She took a good look at you. "Has his highness been treating you well?"
"I'm fine, mom. There's nothing to fear." You assure her.
She continues to fret over you. She's convinced that Jiraiya has harmed you in some way. Same goes for your father. He's being too forward with his harsh criticisms of the king. Your father is implying that you find away to run away or make yourself undesirable to Jiraiya.
"That will do no good, papa. There's nothing Jiraiya can't do." You reply. "He'd do anything to get me back... and I don't fancy leaving."
They were surprised. They figured you would be more resistant and unhappy here. You aren't unhappy. You will live a good life at the side of the king.
"I'll be fine." You say softly. "Please, trust that I am happy here."
Your betrothed entered the room... or did he make himself known? It wouldn't be a surprise if he was listening in. Your family turned silent and fearful in his presence. Even more so as he approached.
"Come, my dear. It's time you started getting ready." Jiraiya said. "We won't be seeing one another again until the ceremony." He paused to grab and kiss your hand. "I look forward to how radiant you'll be."
His eyes flash to your family. The affections he holds for you isn't present when he looks at them. He's cautious around them. It's probably that mistrust of people that ensured he stayed alive.
You leave... but pause at the door. You hide on the other side and eavesdrop. Just what does he plan on saying to them?
"I know I must be someone you don't like." He spoke in a firm unfriendly voice. It's guarded and hid his emotions. It almost didn't sound like him. He's never spoken to you like that. "But I realize I owe you a few things. An apology for my previous conduct and a gift for your daughter's hand. Name what you want and I will give it to you."
"I want my daughter back!" Your hotheaded father demanded.
"That I cannot give you. She's mine now and the queen to my kingdom."
"You are a king to nothing! You are a bastard who took what he wanted!"
"Darling!" Your mother shouted in an attempt to hush your father.
A heavy quiet fell in the hall. There's a weight to Jiraiya's silence. His word is law. One does not insult the king. Your father just broke it with those harsh words... People have died for less.
"Very well." Jiraiya said after a moment. "I know you are upset with me and wedding your daughter. I do not want our ceremony disturbed. I hereby banish you from the castle. You cannot see her until I deem your banishment lifted. Leave now. Before I make you."
Footsteps approach the door. Your family remains quiet, most likely out of shock. Fearful of being caught, you run. You hike up your skirts and book it to your room. Your maids were there to meet you. They led you to the bathroom where a bath was waiting.
It's hard to enjoy a warm bath after witnessing Jiraiya's coldness. His treatment of you had made you less aware of what he's really capable of. He is still a man who killed many to achieve his goals. It's by some grace of the gods that the king who sits on the bloodstained throne only banished your family from entering the castle.
It's sad. Your brief reunion with your family wasn't enough. Now you may never see them again. Yet you are relieved that they were spared from the harsh wrath of the king. Maybe you will see them again one day. Jiraiya does listen to you. Perhaps you can convince him to lift the ban sooner than later.
"It's your wedding day, my lady." Your maid said. "Please don't look so down."
She does have a point. There's nothing you can do about your family's banishment. The best way to look at it is that you got to see them on a day that is supposed to include them. You may see them again.
Your bath ends with you feeling better. A soft sent of roses is on your skin. Something must have been put in the water to fragrant you. It's pleasant. It's now time to wear your finely crafted gown, which fits perfectly. Your hair was done too. Nothing elaborate. Whatever fringe laid by your face was pulled to the back of your head. It was braided back to keep it in place. It must be kept simple, a crown will be set on your head and that is fancy enough.
It doesn't quite feel the same. When you imagined that you would be wed, your father would give you away. He might have if he hadn't insulted the king. Instead you approach the gardens by yourself. A band of strings began to play. The chatter of the crowd began to quiet. The warm light of sunset is framed by the hedges, trees, and high walls. First you are greeted with the sight of nobles standing and turned towards you. Their faces a mix of things, hardly any of them happy.
Your eye follows the walkway the chairs make to the arch. There awaiting under it is your king. For the first time since you entered the castle Jiraiya is dressed as one. The simple tunic, trousers, boots, and cape are swapped for something more refined. The colours are more saturated and more true to the royal colours. The embroidery is more elaborate. Instead of the simple lace like designs, it is more like vines and roses.
His crown is similarly decorated. With delicately forged silver weaved like vines with thorns. The impressions of roses are evenly spaced out between sections of the metal vines. They are flat pieces of black dyed metal plates pressed into the floral shape and smithed to the crown seamlessly. Atop them are tiered spikes that point to the heavens. Imbedded from middle of the roses to the top tier are small gems in the colours of the royal family spaced out with precision symmetry and even spacing. They are in the order from lightest to dark.
With a smile, Jiraiya reached his hand out to you like he wanted you to take it. You return his smile the best you can and walk the aisle. You take his hand and the priest invited the guests to sit.
"Are you well?" Jiraiya asks. "You're quiet."
"I'm fine." You assure with a smile. "A bit nervous, I suppose."
"Aren't all brides? Everything will be fine."
"Yeah, I'm sure they will be."
His brows furrow for a moment. He's not quite sure what you mean.
"If you are ready, your majesty, can we proceed?" The holy man asked.
"Of course. I don't like prolonging things, you know that."
The priest is aware. So is the rest of the church. Even those sworn to the gods weren't safe from Jiraiya. He killed the old high priest who deemed him unworthy of the throne. Needless to say the replacement was much more willing to crown him.
Your vows are different than what's normal. You must vow to aid your people when in need. To offer up a certain amount of yourself to the people that make up the kingdom. Then you had to vow to love his majesty. You vow to do these things. Whether or not you mean all of them is hard to say.
The crown you must wear is passed from priest to king. Being so close to it now the fine details of is easier to focus on. It's of a similar design to the king's. Silver with the ring of the crown like woven vines. There's smaller roses on this crown, with each individual petal smithed by a careful hand and the metal dyed into the red that matches the red used in all royal decorations. Set in the middle of the flowers are very small gems that just manage to catch the light. They shine with a soft pearlescent glow. The crown too has spears above the roses, but they are much shorter than its companion and set with only one stone per spike, black ones that glitter.
You lower down to a curtsy with head tilted just enough. Jiraiya crowns you as his queen. He placed his hand under your chin right after. He lightly pushed on it to coax you back to your natural posture. He shifted his hand to caress your cheek.
"That crown is complete with you wearing it."
"Thank you, Jiraiya."
He was invited to kiss the bride and he accepted gleefully. He pulled you close and caught your lips in a passionate kiss. More passionate than what should be witnessed by public... You are married to the king. You are a queen.
The guests were asked to pay their respects and be on their way. It was still time wasted curtsying and thanking people you don't know or care about. But they care about you. They really care about Jiraiya. They were sure to express their wholehearted congratulations and give plenty of mention to what gifts they brought. But even you know that the king isn't so easily bought. A lovely dress or fine jewelry isn't going to stay the king's hand for judging punishment if they make a mistake in the future.
The band began to play again. Soft slow music fills the calm air of night. Candles were lit up by the silent swift hands of maids and butlers. The long large table set to the side was slowly filled with a feast fit for an army.
"Come on, one dance before dinner?" Jiraiya asks, motioning towards the now cleared stone.
"I'd like that."
He escorts you to the centre of the makeshift dance floor and led you in a waltz. He's a good dancer. Any king is expected to be. Any misstep your feet would make are cured by his swift reflexes. You stare at him, your eyes locked with his. The affection he's looking at you with is as potent and sweet as the cherry wine being served.
"Something is on your mind." He states it like he's able to read your thoughts and already knows what you are thinking about. Maybe he does.
"Yes. There is." You pause. You close the distance and give him a kiss. "I wanted to thank you for sparing my family."
His face changed to surprise. It seemed he didn't know where your mind was at. He recovered gracefully and smiled again.
"You heard that?"
"Yes... I'm sorry my father lashed out at you. He only did so because he's convinced of something untrue."
"I know. I'm sure one day you'll be reunited with him, but not when he disrespects me in my home."
You nod. Perhaps your expression fell too much. Jiraiya exhaled a small laugh through his nose before kissing you. He picked you up and span you around in a circle before placing you on your feet again.
"Don't look so sad, my dear! It's our wedding day."
"Sorry. You're right."
You push aside your sorrow to focus on other things. You spend an evening in happiness. You dance. You ate. You drank. You had a husband who didn't let you go. He smiled at his staff and invited them to celebrate as well. They were surprised, but were just as happy to enjoy in the fruits of their labour.
The party lasted almost until dawn. Celebrating mostly with just Jiraiya was great fun. It's much better than any large party would have been. Apparently you had fallen asleep at one point. You remember stumbling around with your husband into the castle but not actually making it back to the bedroom. The idea of Jiraiya carrying you is both amusing and sweet. He even tucked you in. The lack of birds singing and heat soaking into the castle would clearly indicate its late afternoon.
Your field of vision was cut off. No longer were you staring at the canopy of the bed but rather the man you married. His hand on your hip and body pressed against you.
"Good day, my queen. Did you sleep well?"
"Very well. How about you, my king?"
"Wonderful." He leaned down and kissed you. "So perfectly..." He stopped again for another kiss. His hand wanders to your leg. His fingers dance and stroke your thigh. "I think we must make up for what we missed out on. The wedding night is an important part of this whole tradition thing."
"Really? Is that the most important part?"
"To some. You included. I'm surprised you managed to keep your composure." He squeezes your thigh. "You've been so eager the nights leading up to it."
"Jiraiya! Don't be so crude!"
"Heh heh... Sorry, my love."
You pout at him before he devoured your lips in hungry kisses. He hikes up your skirt and touches your eager skin. For the first time you got to see the body of a man... your man. For the first time a man saw your body. All the things that came with that were as wonderful as how he touched you before, but to the extremes that not even the gods know such pleasures. His fiery touch tingled your sides and thighs. His lips left a trail from neck to pelvis. You held onto anything and everything when he finally took you. Him. The bed. The drapes of the canopy. The only thing you could think to say in the throes of passion was his name... occasionally his title slipped out instead. That only seemed to turn him on more.
As king and queen, there is no opportunity for a honeymoon. Jiraiya would never leave his throne even if it is to have fun. He worked too hard for it. The next best thing was spending days with him in the bed you now share with him. If all that time didn't secure his line, it will soon. That future will come no matter what. But for now it's time to enjoy the present and all the good things it is bringing you.
You sit on the throne beside Jiraiya's. Your crown on your head. You are dressed in a gown of black and red to match the themes of your new royal status. Jiraiya is dressed similarly in colour scheme with the same cut of clothing he normally wears along with his crown. The main difference being his cape, which is the most kingly thing he's worn in your presence. It is blacker than a starless sky and trimmed with white fur. It's laid out from his back to drape over the arm rests of his throne and cascading out like a black pool under his feet. He sits rather improperly in his throne. With bad posture that is always slumped in someway. The space between the thrones was small enough for your husband to reach over and hold your hand.
You look over at him, watching how he behaves. It's very different from how he treats you in private. It's more aloof, yet still held a heavy presence. There is no doubt that he owns this place. This is his throne in his castle. One should not forget that no matter how casual he appears to sit or speak.
A playful smile is on the king's lips as he looks at the peasant grovelling before him as they ask a favour. Their neighbour is a nobleman who keeps farming and taking more of their land. While such a request is not usually a king's problem, this particular peasant farmer is one of the main providers of wine making and export. While not exactly poor nor rich, this farmer is still apart of an influential part of the economy. The noble they are feuding with is apart of the king's inner circle. In fact that noble attended your wedding. An old important family that had stood behind Jiraiya when he was first crowned. They've been in his favour ever since for their support. Perhaps the power has finally gone to their heads. They seem to be forgetting that their king is just as swift to take power as he is to give it.
"What do you think, darling?" Jiraiya asks. He turns his head towards you and smiles.
"Of the dispute?"
"Yes. Who do I side with?"
You stare at him in confusion. The answer seems obvious. Why would he include you in such an easy choice?
Then it hits you. Your stare changes to reflect that. He's testing you. In response his smile turned more pleased than amused. You have yet to prove to Jiraiya that you can lead. You aren't out of the woods yet.
There are more trials you must endure. The lingering questions you hadn't thought upon dangle in the forefront of your mind. What if you do end up being the first to disappoint him? What happens then? You've grown fond of him and he's fond of you. But he has yet to determine if you are good enough to be a queen.
You swallow down the lump in your throat. You must steel yourself. You are the white queen to the red king. It's time to show exactly why he chose you. You stare at the peasant in the same fashion as Jiraiya had. A reassuring squeeze to your hand tells you to say what you are thinking. You part your lips and make a decision.
You can only hope it is the right one.