A/N: Awkwardness abound hurray

Enjoy~

Kyle quietly led his group of four through the hallways of the palace, walking to pass time and to try to alleviate the utter tension that was building within him yet again. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he caught a pair of servants staring at him and whispering before scurrying back off to their corners, coming to a stop and the group nearly crashing into him.

"My Prince?" Stan blinked. "Are you all right?"

"Why are people staring at me?" he muttered, eyes swooping about the grand woodland corridor.

Ike cocked his brow, "You noticed, too? I thought I was going crazy."

"What is going on?" he groaned, rubbing his temple tiredly. "Everyone looks like they're about to piss themselves they're running around so fucking frantically."

"Perhaps tensions are merely high with the arrival of King Eric, Your Highness," Clyde offered with a small shrug.

"Perhaps," he mused, beginning to step off before a shout stopped them.

"Prince Kyle?" They whirled around to find a handmaiden of his mothers curtsying respectably, a large, thin wooden box clutched in her right arm.

The prince cocked his head, "Yes?"

"Your mother instructed me to give you this parcel," she said, handing the box towards him. He cocked his brow, taking it and staring at the embossed golden design. "She wants you to put it on right away and promises she'll be up within the next ten minutes to explain, Your Highness."

Kyle narrowed his eyes. "Thank you, you're dismissed." She curtsied once more before turning and making her way back to her duties. Kyle twisted his lips, moving to head towards his room. "Put it on, huh?" he muttered. "Clothes. Why am I getting new fucking clothes?"

"Perhaps the treaty was struck," Token suggested. "And she wishes for you to look your best to meet King Eric once more."

The redhead scoffed, opening the door and waving his permission for the group to all follow him up the stairs. "That sack of shit should be grateful if I'd so much as consider rags to be good enough attire for him," he rolled his eyes. "I don't care much for dressing to impress, especially when it's against one so garish that anything I wear will be outshone by a fucking diamond the size of my head on his belt."

Ike chuckled, "That makes you better. Shows that the elves are more practical when compared to the greediness of the Kupa Keep monarchy."

"Precisely," he said thickly, breaching the top of his stairs and heading towards his bed, quickly folding his sheets over on top of themselves to hide stains he and Stan had missed before setting the box down. He slowly unlatched the gorgeously carved oaken parcel, brow raising as he lifted the lid to reveal robes of splendor within. "What the fuck," he blinked, pulling out a long, emerald green silk robe that draped down to his knees, embroidered silver leaves floating along the lining in astoundingly intricate detail.

Ike let out a long whistle, "Wow. Fancy."

Kyle looked at his little brother, "Why, if this is for Fatass, aren't you getting new clothes?"

The Canadian shrugged. "Well, I'm not next in line, and I probably won't rule Larnion, so I guess you're the important one here."

Kyle let out a thoughtful 'hmm', taking his box and moving to behind his dressing screen, slowly beginning to strip out of his clothes while staring intently at the package. "Something about this is making me...uncomfortable," he admitted. He paused, seeing a note lying upon new leather pigeon grey boots. He grasped it with gentle fingers, revealing his mother's handwriting.

'Kyle, this is very important. Please clean up as best you can to make yourself presentable. I will be up shortly to inform you of your next step. I'm very proud of you.'

"What the fuck," he repeated. "Ike," he called, balling up the note and tossing it over the screen. "Tell me if you can figure out what the hell you can read from this." He began sliding on the thick, tight white pants enclosed in the collection, hearing Ike picking up the paper and unfurling the page.

The short noirette cocked his head confusedly. "Well, I mean...It all makes sense..."

"Until that last part, right?" Kyle cocked his brow as he began to slip on and lace up his new boots, cringing uncomfortably at the stiffened leather being constricted along his calves. He looked at his worn brown shoes with a pout, wishing he could just slip them back on. This situation was awful enough without adding fucking fashion into the mix.

"Right," Ike agreed. "We all know Mom isn't proud of you," he smirked.

The redhead rolled his eyes, "Oh, fuck off." He finally slipped on his second boot, raising and lowering himself on his toes to stretch out the material as he grasped a loose cranberry undershirt and threw it on, shaking his head as it brushed through his curls. "I just don't get it," he said, straightening out the sleeves and grabbing the silk coat waiting for him. He stroked the smooth material in his hands, lips twisting. "Everything about this arrangement is just coming out of nowhere."

"No arrangements happen without reason, Your Highness," Token reminded him gently. "Her Majesty probably just believes that since you are our future monarch and will be ruling Zaron with King Eric considering your ages, it's pertinent that you meet with him and present yourself as a worthy heir."

Kyle scoffed, slipping on the robe and quickly fastening the buttons hidden on the inner edges and letting it attach across his chest, the edges of the fabric splitting apart and cascading in a dignified billow down the length of the silk. He silently adjusted his long sleeves to drape delicately off his wrists like the touch of a lover, thumbs coming to straighten and flatten his collar and taking a deep breath. "I'm heir whether he likes it or not. Clothes will not change that matter," he said firmly. He stepped out from behind his screen, the four of them looking at him with wide eyes.

"Wow." Ike laughed softly. "Super fancy there, Ky."

The redhead blushed, looking down at his outfit, "You think I can convince her to let me change?" he winced.

Stan smiled adoringly, "You look fantastic, My Prince. Like the elven heir you are."

"Don't say that, because that makes me think I'll always have to dress so ridiculously when I take the throne," he huffed, walking to his mirror and fixing up his hair. "I just wonder why Ma had these clothes stashed away."

"To save for a special occasion," a loving voice breeched the air. They turned to see Sheila standing on the landing of the steps with her hands clasped, eyes gleaming proudly. Token, Clyde, and Stan hopped to their feet from Kyle's bed and bowed, the queen waving them off. She patted Ike's head, "Look at your brother," she cooed. "Doesn't he look like a king?"

"Uh, no. He looks like Kyle in fancy clothes," he said dryly. Sheila chuckled and kissed his forehead, beckoning Kyle to come up in front of her. The redhead noticed the hint of worry lingering in her stare and he gulped. The air here felt too tensive for this to be a mere peaceful agreement.

He made his way up towards her, blushing as Sheila adjusted his robe just slightly and sighed happily. "You look so grown in this. I knew this color would be the best for you," she said with a fondness.

"Ma, what's going on?" Kyle finally demanded. She looked up at him and they locked stares, one demanding answers, the other praying for understanding.

"Kyle..." she placed a hand on his shoulder and he frowned, dropping to one knee and looking up at her confusedly. She sighed, "Kyle, I have an important question to ask you." Kyle nodded her along slowly and she bit her lip. "What matters more to you: Your life, or your people's?"

The redhead jerked back a bit in the abruptness of the question. "Our people," he answered without a moment's hesitation, head swimming with the possibilities of where this was leading up towards.

"And...you'd do anything for the preservation and the progression of the elven race?" she asked.

"Of course," he narrowed his eyes in the slightest.

She smiled sadly, reaching into her pocket and pulling out a handkerchief, slowly unraveling the soft, ivory linen and revealing a silver chain. She pulled it out for Kyle to see, his head cocking at a small branch charm on the edge. "Petrified from the Sacred Tree," she told him softly. "Each member of our family receives one when the time is right, when their loyalty to Larnion is put to the test." Kyle looked around at the other bewildered faces before looking back at his mother as she leaned down, hooking the chain around his neck and watching it gently fall to his clavicle. She gulped, backing up and staring at her befuddled son.

"Ma," he repeated. "What is going on?"

"Stanley," she said, not letting her eyes break from her son's. "Bring me his crown."

"Yes, Your Majesty," Stan said, hurriedly making way to Kyle's vanity and digging for the key to the box holding the precious accessory. The confusion was mounting by the second. Kyle never wore his crown unless visiting other lands or attending grand gatherings. All was silent but the scuffling of Stan's boots as he finally grasped the vine crown, thin wood circling about with branches jutting towards the sky. With delicate hands, he began making way to the royals and bowing as he presented it to the queen.

She nodded at him, "Thank you, Stanley." He bowed once more and backed up between Clyde and Token to continue watching the show. She brushed stray curls atop Kyle's scalp into place, gently setting the crown in its position around his head. She sighed tiredly. "Kyle, our kingdom needs your corporation."

"With...?" he raised his brow.

The queen cleared her throat. "Have you heard of Princess Kendra of Kupa Keep?"

Kyle blinked, "Yes. I've heard of her."

"Well...she became of age to be courted a few months before yourself," she started. Kyle's jaw slowly dropped, every ounce of worry in his chest beginning to burst with life. If this was going where he thought it was going... Sheila straightened herself up and took a long breath, her stern face taking hold. "You will be taking her hand and ruling Larnion together."

"WHAT?!" Kyle screamed, hopping up to his feet as the boys surrounding them watched in shock. "You want me to marry a fucking human?!" he seethed. "You want a human to rule over the elves?! Have you lost your goddamn mind?!"

She frowned, "Kyle, this is for peace."

"Peace for who?" he seethed.

"For our kingdoms!" she snapped. "Your union will bring prosperity between us. Trades can begin anew, friendships can spawn! Think of the possibilities, Kyle!"

He stared at her, mind raging war between pure fury and utter shock, entire body shaking. "I don't want to be forced to marry someone!" he finally bit. "No other elven royalty has had to! Why do I have to be the one it starts with?!" he gestured to himself desperately.

"Because your season has not been presented, so what you do is still dictated by myself and your father," she reminded him sternly. Kyle's breathing picked up its pace, pupils pinpoints as he looked between his friends and brother. His eyes landed on Stan, who looked absolutely devastated by such a turn of events and his heart lurched.

"You can't do this," he pleaded. "Mom. Please. I don't know this person! She doesn't know us," he gestured to the lot of them. "The Drow will never accept her as one of their own!"

She sighed, "And that's why you are the perfect match for Her Highness, Kyle," she insisted. "You know the people. And that's what matters in a kingdom. You can show her how wonderful life within the faction is! You can teach her our ways, let her see for herself just what a life it is she's marrying into! You get to stay here, Bubbie," she said, reaching up and cupping his cheeks. "Larnion will forever be your home. There's no risk of losing you to another land...Please," she pleaded.

He stared at her, lip trembling. "You're denying me a happy future," he said bitterly. "You're forbidding me to meet my soulmate...and promising that I'll be miserable the rest of my life."

"I'm promising the happiness of your people, Kyle," she corrected gently. "You know they come first."

"I know...but...why can't I have both?" he said miserably.

She sighed, "Because it never happens that way, Kyle. Not for matters like this. Everyone must lose something."

"Seems to me I'm the only one losing something in this," he pulled away from her hands and crossed his arms.

She sighed once more, "Princess Kendra is not overly joyful of the union either. She's going to be losing her homeland. She'll no longer be princess to those she's worked so hard to build relationships with...She's sacrificing even more than yourself for this union, Kyle, because she sees the opportunity we have. Don't prove the humans right. Don't let them think that we don't know how to compromise." He looked at her slowly, seeing the desperation shining in her eyes. "Please. Remember that your duties to the Drow comes first. You yourself must always remain strong for them. And now, your second duty comes to her."

He shook his head, biting his lip angrily. "This isn't fair, Ma."

"I know," she said softly, placing an understanding hand on his arm. "But you know that you want peace, Kyle. Well, you can be the one to make it happen." Kyle refused to look at her, heart torn asunder by the overwhelming possibilities fighting for dominance within him, frustrated tears beading his eyes. "Come on," she said softly, placing a hand on his back. "It's time for you to meet your bride."

Kendra sat silently in the carriage, blue eyes half-lidded in boredom as she stared at the seat opposite her. She sighed, leaning back and flicking the sheer, soft mesh covering her skirt, white and tangerine gradient running down the length of the fabric to the floor. She winced, adjusting the straps of her dress, glaring at the covered 'breasts' that she'd had to prepare, angrily hitting one of the rounded fabric balls resting against her chest. Carefully, she adjusted the scarf around her face; white and gold cresting against her tanned skin. She hated this outfit with a passion, the overwhelming detail stitched into the sherbet silk covering her body making her feel like she was constantly going to slip out of the dress, the beading weighing it down enough it could drop from her at any moment. It could ruin everything.

She looked over as the door to the carriage came alive with a knocking, looking as Cartman poked his head in and smiled evilly. "We have a marriage," he cooed. Kendra's heart dropped, apparently her adamant wishing that the Drows would've killed the Wizard King within their walls had went unheeded. Seems Butters was right, they just weren't inherently violent. Pity.

Cartman held out his hand, Kendra taking a long, deep breath and clutching it back, allowing the glutton to help her out of the carriage and onto the Drow land. She gulped, looking to see an array of elven guards watching her suspiciously, dropping her gaze to the ground, fingers clutching one another and uncomfortably shifting her weight. "Don't worry, Your Highness," Butters perked up from beside her. "Why, why the family is super nice. They can't wait to make ya part of the family!" he beamed. She rolled her eyes. Always the enthusiast. She mindlessly reached back, grabbing her braid and draping it over her shoulder, biting her lips under her scarf. This had to go well, for Karen's sake...She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. This was worth it. She had to believe that.

She looked in shock as a loud voice broke through the front yard of the palace. "M'kay," Mackey stood and nodded atop the foot of the large steps. "Welcome to our land, Princess Kendra," he bowed to her, getting a small nod back. "May I present your betrothed, m'kay?" he gestured dramatically towards the front doors as they opened. "Prince Kyle of the Broflovski clan!" Kendra watched nervously, Cartman standing beside her with crossed arms, waiting impatiently to see Kendra's horrified face at the gangly, bucktoothed boy of his youth.

They both watched as a slender redhead dressed in gorgeous green attire came to the foot of the steps, watching them both from the distance hesitantly. The king snorted, "Can't stay that far forever, Kahl," he murmured.

Kyle gulped, seeing the tall blonde waiting down the way and looking at his mother as she stepped beside him. "She's taller than me," he hissed.

"Everyone's taller than you, Kyle," Ike said blandly, holding in a yelp as Kyle kicked him with the point of his boot.

The elder prince continued staring at his mother. "Nothing a man wants more than to be out heightened by his wife," he said through gritted teeth.

"Height doesn't matter," she said cooly. "What matters is treatment, which you are failing in," she snapped subtly. "Go greet her as you are supposed to."

Kyle groaned softly, looking to Stan who offered him a forced encouraging smile. He took a deep breath and cleared his throat, straightening himself out and beginning to gracefully descend the steps. He hit the walkway and moved towards the group with a heightened sense of dignity that the crowd watching could feel emanating from the small prince. Cartman watched with a raised brow as he approached, catching the gorgeous, soft curls falling atop his head like the natural fold of cloth. His jade eyes were softened from the anger of their youth, every bit of him grown into itself, carrying the air of a king about him. He nearly growled, looking to see Kendra staring at him and blinking as he approached, looking more nervous than disgusted. The king inwardly pouted, upset one of the better parts of his plan had been swiped away by the hands of a puberty gone right.

Kyle's eyes drifted over the princess, the way her shining blue eyes stood brightly against her complexion. The way her sandy hair drifted in soft wisps in its braid and she seemed to hold a quiet personality around her like a shield. He sighed to himself. Well. She wasn't ugly. At least he had that in his favor. He cocked his brow slightly at the scarf around her mouth, trying not to stare at it as he finally approached her, shoulders sinking at the clear half a foot height difference. Great.

He came to a stop in front of her and took a deep, controlling breath, placing his hand across his waist and bowing. "Welcome to Larnion, Princess," he said clearly, forcing himself to keep the spite out of his voice. He grabbed her hand, kissing the back of the glove and scrunching his face quick enough for no one to notice, standing back and watching her curtsey for him. He cleared his throat. "Were your travels enjoyable, Your Highness?" She nodded. He blinked. "Fantastic. Have you eaten?" A shake of the head. He offered her a reassuring smile, hiding himself digging his thumbnail into his palm in frustration within his folded hands. "What clan do you hail from?" he asked, avoiding another possible nod.

"She hails from the clan of McCormick," Cartman answered for her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said through gritted teeth forced into a smile. Eric smirked superiorly at the lesser, relishing in his victory over the Drow. "However, I'd like to hear Princess Kendra answer me, if His Majesty wouldn't mind," he kept up his smile, eye subtly twitching.

He shrugged casually, "You'll be waiting a long time then."

Kyle blinked, looking up at the blonde. "Are you so shy, Princess?"

She shook her head embarrassedly and he cocked his own confusedly. The Wizard King chuckled, "She's a mute. She communicates through paper and quill."

Kyle's blood may as well have turned to ice in that moment, the horrific circumstance smacking into his face as though Cartman's hand itself had slammed against his cheek. He kept up the smile, "Well. How...quaint," he forced out. He turned and looked at his parents and friends observing with worried faces. "A diplomat who can't speak. How quaint," he repeated, body twitching with anger as he turned to look back at his betrothed who was looking down guiltily. Kyle's shoulders sunk and he winced, taking a deep breath. 'For the people, Kyle. For your people.' He tapped her arm, getting her attention back on him and offering her an actual smile, holding out his hand. "We'll make it work," he promised. She blinked in shock at the kindness and took his hand, allowing him to pivot and begin leading her back down the way side by side towards the palace. He looked to see his mother and father beaming with pride and sighed to himself, the princess's hand seeming to burn against his skin. His mantra continued to echo in his head, the calamity of events of the day being beaten down by three simple words: For your people.

A/N: K2 is hard without the banter. Okay not hard but so many puns will have to be missed along the way and it saddens me.

Thanks for R&Ring!