Hello lovely readers!

This story was a request from a reader on a different platform, and I hope I've done it justice. Thank you for the detailed request notes, it really did help, and I really hope they enjoy what I've created.

The events takes place in a non magical historic setting, I decided to set it in Scotland, seeing as that's where I am from. I am in no way a great history buff so it's not a true depiction of the time and place, but I think I've done pretty ok.

At almost 9k in total, this is the longest one shot I've written to date, and because it's so dang long, I've decided to split it into two parts. No need to panic, both parts will be published today and I really would appreciate feedback on this particular piece.

This story was completely out of my comfort zone, but I honestly loved the experience of bringing it to life.

Remember, my requests are always open ;)

15 years ago...

"Hey, give it back!" the little brat yelled, her big doll-like eyes brimming with unshed tears. Jellal held the raggedy bear high above his head, taunting the smaller child with a cruel smile twisting on his lips, how he loved to torment this girl.

With a nasty laugh, Jellal sneered, "how about you beg me for it? Beg your future King!" He watched in fascination as the girl faltered, her jumping to reach the bear stopping as she looked into Jellal's cruel face. Her small mouth tipping down in the corners, her flushed cheeks turning ashen as she contemplated his words.

"You will never be my King!" she spat, the strength of her voice and words startling the young boy. At only 7 years old, Jellal was more than aware of his future. Having been born the only son of King Precht Fernandes, he was the heir to his father's throne, and he would bear the responsibility for his entire Kingdom when the time came.

Self-righteous anger bubbled within Jellal, his grip on the girl's bear tightened as he took one menacing step towards her. "Yes, I will, and I will make you bow before me," he hissed through his straight white teeth. With a harsh yank, he ripped an arm from the bear and tossed the pieces at her feet, his cold laughter ringing through the grand hall.

The girl cradled her precious bear to her small chest, tears slipping down her cheeks as she placed the loose arm on top and squeezed tightly. Before the boy could do anymore to torment the child, the door was flung open and in swept the girl's mother, the similarities between the two were startling. "Let's go Erza, its time we returned to our own Kingdom," the towering red head called to her daughter.

Jellal merely watched on as the girl ran to her mother, her own scarlet hair flowing behind her like a river of blood. Such morose thoughts for a lad so young, yet as his hatred of the younger girl intensified as she was lifted into the outstretched arms of her mother, he could not help the deep pang of sadness and jealousy in his heart. His own mother had not survived childbirth, he may have been surrounded by nursemaids, nannies, and governesses all his life, but he lacked the warmth and compassion from a true mother.

The child sobbed in anguish, retelling what he had done to her ragged bear through gasping breaths. Jellal rolled his eyes, strolling for the door as he grew weary from this meeting. "Mark my words boy," Queen Belserion stated in a controlled voice, yet as the boy lifted his head, the rage in her eyes was almost tangible, reaching out to twist around his delicate throat.

"You will be no King to me or my Kingdom. It is clear to me that you have inherited your father's cruel heart, I weep for your people," and with those final words she swept from the room, and out of sight of the shaking boy.

Jellal's feet carried him mindlessly towards his chambers, his mind playing over the words of the Queen of Dál Riata, was she right? Had he become cruel like his father? He shivered at the very thought, as his sole heir, the boy had escaped the brunt of his cruelty, but he had witnessed first-hand how evil his father could be when the mood struck him.

Slipping into the opulence of his chambers, his mind was still too busy with his own thoughts to have noticed the man that was present within the room. It wasn't until a deep cough sounded that Jellal snapped out of his reverie and swung around to face the intruder.

His eyes fell on an older man, he appeared roughly the same age as the King but the two could not be more different. The man before him was short, his rough face commanded respect yet there was an unmistakeable warmth in his black twinkly eyes, his neatly trimmed moustache bristled as Jellal pressed his back against the now closed door.

"It seems I have arrived just in time young Prince. That display of yours with that poor child was despicable," the man spoke coolly, his gaze sharpening on the cowering lad. Jellal wasn't used to feeling unsafe or vulnerable, but in that moment the unfamiliar feelings washed over him and made his stomach knot with fear.

"W-who are -," the now timid boy managed to quiver out before he was interrupted.

The man paced before the boy, "I am Makarov Dreyar, you may call me Master Makarov. I am a, somewhat friend of your fathers." Makarov shrugged his shoulders, and Jellal was unsure how deep that friendship truly ran. "The King has summoned me here to be your tutor in all things; education, weapon training, political decision making, strategic thinking, diplomacy, amongst many other things.

However, my own personal priority is to become your trusted confidant and help steer you on to a path befitting a well-respected and beloved King."

Little did Jellal know at this young age, that in this one day he had met the two people who would both change and define the rest of his life.

~.~

6 months ago...

Staring at the reflection in the opulently gilded mirror, Erza could hardly believe she was looking upon herself. This should have been the happiest day of her life, yet she could feel no joy, only an aching sadness filled her chest. Her trembling fingers smoothed down the satiny soft material of her white dress, it was simple, but it accentuated the feminine curves of her body exquisitely.

A tartan sash nipped in her petite waist, the handmade piece comprised of two pieces of cloth, one side her family tartan and the other his family's tartan. Where it met in the middle, a Celtic cross pinned it together, the two sides overlapped and fell down the skirt of the gown, it was meant to symbolise their union and she loathed it with a fiery hatred.

The door behind her opened with a quiet snick, Erza hastily wiped away the tear that had slipped from her eye as her mother approached. "You look truly beautiful my daughter," Queen Belserion whispered, her thin lips lifting in a small but sad smile.

"Remember, you are doing this for the wellbeing of your people, we do not enter into this lightly, but it is for the best," the Queen continued. Erza had heard these words repeatedly since she had been betrothed to Prince Jellal at the age of 16. The words held little comfort for her, as the years had passed without indication that the marriage would be completed, she had dared to hope that it would not be necessary, but it was merely a foolish dream. Prince Jellal would need a wife to bear his own heirs from when he eventually took the throne, and her family would have no other be the woman to bear his children, it was too important to maintain their alliance.

The pair had met hundreds of times due to the continued alliance between your Kingdoms, yet Erza could only ever think of their first meeting. The day when he had so cruelly snatched away her beloved teddy bear and twisted his arm off simply to torment her. The ease with which he showed his cruelty lingered with her to this day and despite their more recent meetings, she could not see the man as anything other than a tyrant.

When the day of the last war had arrived, after many months of tensions and small rebellion uprisings, she knew in her heart that a marriage would be necessary. Her hearty Kingdom of Dál Riata had rallied to the aid of the Picts, pledging allegiance to them under their own ruling. Her father and mother wished to retain the strength of their Kingdom; therefore, she was to use her influence to sway Prince Jellal to their side.

With a steadying breath, Erza's spine straightened, her body now taller than her mother as the pair strode towards her destiny, or doom as she felt it was going to be. She could not even appreciate the music, the décor, or the dazzling rays of the midday sun as they spilled light into the grand hall, her husband to be stood bathed in that light.

His body visibly tensed as she approached, Erza took in his broad frame, the tartan of his kilt was beautiful and she bit the inside of her cheek at the thought, she shouldn't admire anything about this man. Jellal's blue hair had been pulled back and tied at the nape of his neck with a leather strap and the crisp white ghillie shirt he wore over his strong body rippled as he moved to greet Erza at the altar.

Jellal smiled, it seemed like a genuine one, but Erza convinced herself it was a mask, a game he was playing with her. The ceremony began and she lost herself in the words being spoken, it wasn't until their hands had been tied together with tartan ribbon, and she realised it was time for her to speak her vows did she wake from her glazed thoughts.

Blood of my blood,

Bone of my bone,

I give ye my body, that we two might be one,

I give ye my spirit 'til our life shall be done.

I pledge to you that yours will be the name

I cry aloud in the night and the eyes into which I smile in the morning,

I pledge to you my living and my dying, each equally in your care,

I shall be a shield for your back and you for mine,

Above and beyond this, I will cherish and honour you

through this life and into the next.

With rings now adorning their entwined hands, the marriage was complete, all that was left was the customary first kiss. Erza's eyes widened slightly as Jellal cupped her face with his free hand, his lips grazed her own in the briefest meeting possible. For the merest second, Erza had wished for more, his lips had been so soft and gentle, and for a first kiss it was rather disappointing to have ended so abruptly.

Jellal's head dipped to her ear, his heated whisper caressing her skin with the intensity of a branding iron, "you look like you expected more, I don't think you deserve more quite yet, Erza, my wife..." His words were enough to set her teeth on edge, how dare he speak to her in that way. His eyes swept over Erza's face, the red tattoo under his eye that marked him as true heir to the throne appeared to mock her as anger spiked in her veins.

"I want nothing from you," Erza whispered, her voice so soft and quiet that it only barely reached Jellal's own ears. She watched as a slight frown marred his handsome face, quickly being replaced with a smug expression that chilled her skin.

~.~

"She still thinks I'm a monster," he groaned out, pulling free his hair from the leather strap in frustration as he paced the small room. Master Makarov was seated before him, he had heard this from Jellal on many occasions, the Prince seemed desperate in his plight to show he wasn't the monster that others thought he was. He would not become his father.

"It'll take time my boy. Now that Princess Erza is living with you, there will be ample opportunities to sway her feelings and devotion. This union is crucial in unifying your people, they need a period of peace and prosperity to ease their worries," the old man stated calmly, offering a kind smile to the still pacing Prince.

The wedding of an arranged marriage meant there was less frivolity than other weddings Jellal had attended, he thought back to the day the Captain of the Guard had finally tied the knot with his childhood sweetheart. Natsu and Lucy had seemed to be simply overflowing with love and happiness on that joyous day, the festivities had gone on long into the night, with Jellal retiring to his chambers past 2am, much to the chagrin of his father the next day.

He had weathered the old man's wrath, recounting the dancing, and drinking as he was berated at great length in the throne room. His mind wandered over the ladies that had been present, many of them had seemed more than keen to retire with him when he finally left the party. He had refused, as he always did, Jellal was no fool. He knew he was handsome, well built, and strong from his seemingly endless training as he grew up, he was also the most lucrative of male companions. The heir to the throne and soon to be King of Picts. As his 22nd birthday approached, Jellal remained a virgin, yes there had been some brief dalliances in his early teenage years, his hormones making him act before thinking, but other than some light petting, he was untouched.

As he watched some distant relatives and dignitaries from neighbouring kingdoms dance on the highly polished floor, his gaze continually drifted to where his new wife stood, surrounded by young maidens, possibly even her friends for all he knew. Everything that he did know of the girl didn't quite fit with what he actually saw, Erza's reputation was a fierce one. The only daughter of the King and Queen of Dál Riata, she was apparently a renowned strategist and surprising member of her father's war council.

His court viewed Princess Erza as a spoiled brat, an uptight prude who refused to concede in anything. Jellal simply deemed that as a challenge, he had seen the quickly flattened desire in her eyes when they had kissed, there was more under the surface, and he would expose it even if it killed him.

Her hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall, the scarlet colour was so intense in the light of the setting sun, his fingers itched as he longed to run them through it. As if sensing his gaze, his wife looked up from the conversation she had been dutifully pretending to listen to, her pupils dilating as their eyes locked across the room.

The slight gasp that slipped through her lips was enough to cause a smirk to spread over Jellal's face as he quickly strode towards her, he held out a hand and a quirk of his eyebrow was the only signal he gave that they would now join in on the dancefloor.

He suppressed the chuckle he felt rising as his new wife frowned in apparent annoyance, yet taking his hand as was her duty. As royalty, the pair had been diligently trained in every type of dance imaginable, although this would be the first time they had partnered together. Erza had often watched at various ceremonies and celebrations, that Jellal tended to favour young blondes as his dancing partner. The simpering she had endured had been enough to turn her stomach, every girl had clung to him like a limpet, their entire beings radiating their desire to be claimed by the arrogant male.

As the band took a well-deserved break, the dancers clapped their hands before moving away to chat and discuss matters of business, snippets of rumours and hearsay floated over the crowd like the buzz of a beehive. Erza started to drift back to her family, but Jellal was quick to place his hand on her elbow, guiding her towards the door and an empty hallway.

"We have things to discuss, my wife," he growled as the pair were shrouded in almost complete darkness. He more than enjoyed that Erza's breathing had increased, he could practically hear the thumping of her heart, her ample chest rising and falling trapped by the tightness of her dress, he continued, "more specifically, bedroom arrangements."

The answering gasp went straight to Jellal's groin, he was grateful for the absence of light as he felt a blush creeping over his ears as he took in the look of shock on her face. Without warning she raised her hand, Jellal caught it in a deathly grip before she could land the slap to his face, "you dare speak to me about such matters! I will not share your bedroom, not tonight nor any other night," she hissed at him, each word like the stab of a sharpened blade to his stomach.

A shutter fell over his face, he wanted to show his wife that he was not the beast everyone claimed he was, he had intended for this to be merely a verbal sparring match, stirring her blood to reveal some more of her fire, yet all he felt was disappointment at his own ineptitude.

"You know that I will be asked if the marriage was consummated in the morning, I want you to know now that I will lie and say yes," he quickly stammered out, "I don't want anything to jeopardize the union of our kingdoms, and I didn't want you to hear the lie for the first time tomorrow." Jellal let go of his wife, he leant heavily on the wall behind him, he suddenly felt so very tired.

"I appreciate your honesty Prince Jellal, I also do not want anything to put our union at risk. I will adhere to your lie, but I expect my own chambers to be ready for me when this whole wedding farce is over," she whispered, the harshness now having left her voice as she watched her new husband warily.

With a simple nod, he disappeared into the halls of the castle, wrapped in a blanket of his own confusion and frustration.

~.~

Present Day...

Almost six months had passed since Prince Jellal of Picts and Princess Erza of Dál Riata had married, Jellal had kept his word and Erza had been given a lavish set of her own chambers, in the grand palace. He had also sworn blind that the marriage had been consummated on the wedding night, Erza's cheeks heated at the memory of the morning after the wedding, knelt in front of King Precht as Jellal had pointedly refused to be drawn further on the matter. His father had been rather forthright, demanding details of the deed, Erza had struggled to maintain her composure as he pressed Jellal to detail her body to him, truly sickening.

In the months that followed, she had finally grown accustomed to her new servants, her moving from her family home had only allowed for her to bring one of her own handmaids, thankfully Virgo appeared to have made fast friends with her counterparts in the palace with ease. She was a reliable companion in the times Erza felt most alone and vulnerable.

There were times when she would not see Jellal for days at a time, his attention being spent on restoring the kingdoms, shoring up allegiances and training endlessly in the yard. Erza had spent more than a few hours watching from the window of her bedroom, she admired his skill with a sword and as the heat of the season approached, when he stripped down, she could feel herself melting with every passing moment.

What surprised the Princess the most, was the absence of any cruelty from him. There was cruelty to be seen, certainly when in court with the King, yet Jellal never took the opportunity to torment her. The time she had groggily stumbled into his bedchambers, mistaking them for her own after a bad case of night terrors, he had been nothing but gentle. He had been adamant that he would watch over her from the chair by the almost empty fireplace until she was asleep before he would leave.

Erza had tested him that very night, after minutes slipped by, she feigned sleep whilst watching the blue haired man from the corner of her eye. He had sat in the wingback chair, a small leather-bound journal resting on his crossed thigh, noting things down every now and then, his eyes quickly scanning the pages. When he closed the book, he had crossed the room softly, kissing his fingertips and pressing them tenderly against Erza forehead before slipping out of the room.

She could barely believe it, he could have taken advantage of her, by all means they were a married couple and she felt that most men would have given in by now and forced the issue, yet he remained quiet on that topic. She would be lying if she had not noticed his heated glances, normally when she was talking with someone else, she could feel his eyes on her like the warmth of the sun and it made her uneasy, but not in the same way as before.

The morning that Prince Jellal had invited her to join his own war council, so very casually over breakfast, Erza had nearly spilt milk all over her beautiful lavender gown. His eyes had sparkled with mirth at her obviously shocked expression, and from that moment on, Erza had a true purpose again.

It was becoming impossible to see Jellal in the same way as she had done when they first met, she had only been five at the time and his wickedness had been truly heart breaking. As an only child and a Princess, cruelty was not something she had ever experienced, so when this new Prince had been thrust into the room with her, it was not what she had expected. Yet he had clearly grown up into a decent man, and she felt that he owed a lot to his Master Makarov.

She spied the two of them on many occasions, heads bowed as if in secrecy, debating the merits of this and that. Master Makarov radiated warmth and compassion, he was someone never to be trifled with, but the love that he displayed for the Prince was heart-warming. It soothed her on days when she dearly missed her mother, Queen Belserion was not an overly affectionate woman, but Erza had always known she was loved and treasured.

"A letter for you milady," Virgo cooed, shaking the scarlet haired woman from her daydreaming, the heavy parchment felt warm to the touch and the seal of the Fernandes stood proudly on the back. Her fingers grazed the cooling wax, this was now her own family seal, even if it were by marriage.

Shaking the heavy paper out, her eyes quickly scanned the short letter and a blush crept over her face.

Dearest Erza

I would be honoured if you would allow me to take you on a date, please meet me by the stables at 5.30pm tonight if you are agreeable.

Yours

Jellal

Glancing at the clock on the mantel, it read 4pm and the panic set in. Did she dare go? Erza was no coward, but what if this was some cruel trick? Steeling herself she peeked at Virgo, who did not hide the fact that she had read the letter over her shoulder. "Help me!" she cried; the two females whirred into action to make Erza look as presentable as possible.

~.~

"Relax!" the Captain of the Guard yelled, clapping Jellal hard on the shoulder, "she'll come, just you wait and see." Natsu's eyes lit up as his blonde and very heavily pregnant wife waddled her way towards them. The two of them offered friendly waves of departure as Natsu scooped Lucy up and practically sprinted with her to their shared home. Jellal's jealousy twisted deep in his gut, followed by disgust that he would feel that way about his friend.

Jellal could not contain his growing anxiety, as the minutes ticked by his conviction that Erza would not show grew. As he was about to turn and march back inside to find solace in several pints of ale, a shadow crept across him and his gaze fell on the Princess.

She looked simply stunning in an elegant charcoal coloured gown, the pale flesh of her bare shoulders and upper chest appeared to glow in the slowly setting sunlight. Her hair had been braided into a long plait which swept over one shoulder, and in her arms a cloak was draped, the material edged in her family's tartan.

"You came," was all he could say, taking a step back as Erza stopped before him.

A light chuckle sounded in the near empty courtyard, Jellal had never heard something so melodic and soothing, he desperately wanted to hear it again, "you did invite me here, didn't you Prince Jellal?"

He held out his arm for Erza to take, the redhead eyed him for a moment but slipped her arm through his, "please, it's Jellal, enough of the Prince nonsense," he said, daring to glance at her as he led her inside the stable.

The ten minute horse ride to the picnic spot he had chosen the day before was pure hell, having Erza wrapped so very tightly around his body as he rode his trusty steed was nearly enough to break the poor man. Her hands had tightened unbearably as he drove the horse onwards, hoping to end the journey as soon as possible. Little did Jellal know that Erza was suffering also, she found being this close to his strong body entirely too enjoyable to be decent.

Jellal was proud of what he had accomplished, this felt like the first time that Erza had allowed her guard to lower, showing him the real her. She was highly intelligent and extremely quick witted, he enjoyed their verbal sparring, and listened intently to her thoughts on current events. He had made the right decision to add her to his war council, even if his father thought him soft in the head for doing so.

All too soon the night was closing in around them, it was time to head back to the castle, back to their separate quarters and the loneliness that filled them. Erza helped Jellal to pack up the picnic things, and when it was time to leave she turned to the man, a small smile on her lips, "may I ride us home?"

He was unsure how to answer, what would his subjects say if they saw him being ridden home by a woman? Yes, she was his wife, but this felt like it might not be looked upon favourably. Yet he wanted to say yes, with every fibre of his being, he thought about being able to wrap his own arms around the curvy beauty and his heart skipped a beat.

The smile on Erza's lips started to vanish as he continued to debate the question, without a word Jellal gripped her waist and lifted her into the saddle, handing her the reins. He was quick to mount himself behind, his large hands landed gently on the flair of her hips. He would be careful, he would not take advantage of this delicate situation, Jellal made sure that he sat far enough back that any unwelcome growing would not be noticed.

Erza was quick to spur on his horse, she was clearly a master rider, something he knew nothing about, making him ponder on all the other things he did not know about his wife. His steed was powerful and strong willed, yet he bent to her will as if he were putty in her hands, she was starting to have this effect on him too.

Jellal was forced to scoot forward, his arms wrapped around her body as she sped them through the dense trees with more speed than seemed possible. If he had been able to see his wife's face, he would have witnessed her utter joy, Erza was at home in the saddle, the wind whipped at her face, but she wore the biggest smile.

On the boundary of the castle Erza halted the horse, Jellal was confused until she swung herself from the seat, praising the horse with strokes and light kisses to his muzzle. She made to walk beside the horse as he finished the journey, frowning he leapt down and swung her around. Erza gasped as she stared into his sharp eyes, "no wife of mine will walk whilst I ride, we walk together or we ride together."

Erza merely inclined her head, a faint blush creeping over her delicate face, as the two strolled back into the castle grounds in companionable silence.