Cold Hands, War[m] Heart [Namingtoohard & Fanatasia]

[Fanatasia]

Aine frowned as she was shepherded back to her bed, laying down with a huff, though nodding and muttering, "You can lay down too." He'd offered; and she was eagerly accepting his offer, too.

Once he'd lain down, she'd nestle against his side and murmur, "It was scary. I... I killed my father, and you--you helped!" Her gaze flickered to him, as she shifted beside of him, before she fell silent, frowning as her head pounded quite harshly.

She'd hide her face in his chest, mumbling to herself, trying to get the pain to leave. Then, she whispered, "Can we just go to bed?" She'd tug at the covers, until he shifted enough to allow her to pull them over herself, and himself... "Promise you won't ever hurt me?" She mumbled, as she stared at the wall across from them.

[Namingtoohard]

Naturally, the prince would join Aine in a heartbeat, laying down beside her quickly as soon as she offered. He would take a few moments to squirm and adjust his position, trying to find something that was comfortable for the both of them without putting pressure on his bad arm. Thankfully, he would settle down before long, nestling up against the princess with a content sigh, glad that he was finally able to relax again. Honestly, it felt like so much had happened in the past three days that his mind was just being overloaded, all other afflictions nonwithstanding.

He stayed silent for a moment as she explained her 'dream', practically frozen as he tried to think up how exactly he should react. Telling her that it was real...well, it seemed like that would only heighten her distress. Still, not telling her seemed just as bad, somehow. Morally wrong, if nothing else. Then she spoke again, and his chance was gone. He gave a small nod, almost automatically, settling in beneath the covers for her. As for what came next...a sense of guilt almost immediately settled over him. How could he say yes, in this sort of situation? But then, how could he say no, when she was asking him so earnestly?

"...I promise" he would answer simply, tone hushed, barely more than a whisper. Slowly, he would bring his good hand up, brushing the back of his fingers against her cheek gently, before tucking a lock of stray hair behind her ear. Slowly, he would lean in to plant a quick, chaste kiss on Aine - he really seemed unable to help himself with those, now. Almost like it was an addiction. "Goodnight, Aine" he would finally add in the same quiet tone, closing his eyes and snuggling up against the princess once more.

[Fanatasia]

[AHHHHHHHH, Timeskip because we have been on the first week for ... 13 pages. xD]

Over the next few weeks, things were certainly a blur. They'd decided to postpone the wedding; at least until Aine stopped having nightmares about her father's execution, and repairs were going smoothly. It was not until about a full month later that Aine seemed mentally well enough to endure a wedding--as well a coronation.

The morning they had set her wedding date, Aine had woke up without too many cries in the night; or best of all, she'd not tried to choke anyone. Though, of course, she had not been sleeping alone--Sorei had insisted the prince sleep in his own room, but one of them always ended up moving--usually it was Aine who moved, climbing into his bed in the middle of the night, like a scared child seeking their parent's safe arms.

She gazed at the man beneath her, having snuggled on his good arm's side, against his chest, before she heard a rather brisk knock on his door; and then it opened. A maid walked in, blatantly, with breakfast--enough for the princess and the prince, so someone must have sent her; must have checked in on them. Why wouldn't they? The first few nights after her father's death, if she didn't work herself into such a fright she got sick, she tried to choke the prince in her sleep--often this resulted in clawing across his chest if she couldn't manage to get at his throat. There was truly no in-between. Though, the good thing was that Aine never remembered trying to hurt him--while she knew when she made herself sick with fear, she was still asleep when she tried to injure her betrothed.

Aine rolled over, sprawling, fully-clothed on the other side of the bed with a quiet huff. She pushed herself upright and rubbed at her eyes; bidding the sleep to leave them. "'m up, 'm up." She mumbled, fingers brushing her hair out of her face. With wide eyes, she leaned over to claim her bowl of fruit, with a small side of bacon.

She'd begin eating, as the maid stated, "Be in your room after breakfast, miss. You've got to get ready, before the day grows too hot." Realization sunk in after a moment, and she grinned widely! It was her wedding day? Oh fun; very fun! He had promised her a trip to Neve as their honeymoon, and she was quite looking forward to it. Though she was a bit saddened by the fact he had proclaimed they would need to spend a few months as husband and wife--king and queen--in Sinder before they could go.

She reached out to poke at her fiance's face, tapping against his nose before giggling to herself. Aine was surprised; and she took a moment to address to the amount of surprise she felt. Today was the day she had been dreading since her birth--yet she no longer dreaded this day. He had certainly proved himself to be fun--to be annoying at times; but he also seemed eager to be a good husband, and she could respect that.

Though, it hit her that she had no idea how she would be dressed! Sorei and Fiora had handled all of that; every single bit of it. She frowned as she wondered what sort of wedding setup they had gone with; traditional Sinderian or Neveian or had they created some kind of compromisement of the two?

She huffed and as she sat the porridge for Leith on his chest, waiting for him to stir from his sleep. She gazed at the bowl of porridge, almost longingly, though she knew she'd not keep it down--she'd switched to fruit and a bit of meat after the last few mornings of porridge had come back up. The doctors assured her she was just nervous about being a wife--that she would be fine--but she did not think she was nervous at all!

Aine would eat her fruit, as she laid back down, chewing a slice of bacon. She'd become too accustomed to sleeping beside the man for that to change; and she was used to laying in bed until Sorei forced her out of it. She'd reach over to press a piece of fruit against his lips, "Ge'up," she mumbled around her bite of strawberry. "Getting married today, you know."

[Namingtoohard]

Indeed, those few weeks just seemed to fly past for the both of them. The first few days had been the biggest struggle, having to deal with the consequences for overusing his powers at first, and then the sudden and unexpected attacks that he had been required to endure at the hands of his sleeping fiancée. More than once, he had woken up with her fingers around his throat or clawing into his chest, and had been forced to do his best to weather the attacks or restrain her without properly retaliating. The bruising on his throat and the scratches on his chest had been harder to hide or explain away, but he had managed, for the sake of Aine. He had quickly adapted.

Thankfully, aside from that repeating occurrence things had largely calmed down for the pair. There were always the sort of small little niggles that rulers and betrothed had to deal with, but compared to the events of those first few days, dealing with those had felt a breeze. There had been no more vengeful kings, no more coups, no more balls or tournaments, and for all of that, Leith was infinitely glad. Perhaps more than anything else, he was looking forward to the fact he would be mended again before too long, and would have full use of his dominant left hand once more.

For Fiora, the weeks had passed in much the same manner as before, albeit a little more hectically. She had quickly gotten her hair cut properly, but the process left it much shorter than she would've liked. It was growing back in well enough, now, even if it would require more time to reach its former length. She had spent most of her time split between trying to arrange the wedding - which Leith had used his weakened mental state and exhaustion to weasel out of doign - and trying to squash the rumours that had started breeding throughout the palace following the events of that third day.

Hiding what had happened was more or less impossible, given the number of people who had been present in the cleanup. To deal with it, Fiora had started with spreading her own version, which details the king had simply overdone it with his own powers under normal circumstances until his body had overheated, without the added element of cold introduced by the two royals. Anyone who had insisted on gossiping she had spoken to, trying to explain the necessity of keeping the real events quiet. Where that had not sufficed, physical threats had.

On the day in question, the prince awoke some time after the princess, grumbling sourly. He tried to mumble something akin to a good morning, only to find a piece of fruit pressed against his lips. Sighing inwardly, he would grab it f her fingers with his teeth carefully, before bringing his good hand up. Taking a bite, he would pull away what was left for a moment so he could speak.

"Mm...just a few more minutes" he muttered softly, groaning a little, though he gave in regardless. Blinking rapidly for a moment as he tries to will his eyes to adjust and start working properly, he moved to sit up, only to pause a little as the weight on his chest shifted. After a few seconds he registered the porridge bowl, at which he would raise one eyebrow curiously, glancing across at the princess with a questioning expression.

"Is this how you plan on waking me up every morning when we're married? I might just stay in bed" he grumbled jokingly, though he grabbed the bowl with his good hand to make sure it was stable and slid up into a proper sitting position. For the next few moments, he would eat in silence, before setting the bowl aside with a soft clang.

"How much time to we have?" He would ask after he was done, bringing his hand up to scratch at his hair for a moment, unsure just how early it was. Naturally, he didn't want to force himself to get out of bed and leave Aine's company before it proved absolutely necessary. In the back of his mind, something reminded him of an addage that said it was back luck to see the bride before the wedding, but the prince paid it no mind.

[Fanatasia]

Aine grinned against her strawberry, "Is this how you want to be woken up? Because, I mean, we'll be expected to actually go to the dining hall for meals. So I don't quite think I can wake you up with a meal." She quipped, her head canting her head to one side to offer him a grin. She'd lean to settle her half-empty bowl of fruit on the table, grinning as she shrugged. "I don't know. I imagine Sorei or Fiora will come drag me off when they're ready," she stated, settling back against his side with her last bite of bacon.

She studied him quietly, pleasantly pleased not to see any of the horrendous marks he often explained away. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew she was the cause--which only made the relief she felt now, at seeing none, all that more better. Aine would huff upward. "Do you know how we're doing this? What they're dressing me in?" She inquired. It would seem that both planners had decided simply not to tell either royal.

"I know I liked surprises, but now I'm kind of scared," she muttered, scrunching her nose at the man as she gazed up at him. "What if I mess up? At coronation?" She inquired; speaking of the rather tedious speech she had to give, to be sworn into officiancy by a priest--and of course; there would be a moment for someone to step forth and challenge her. Which had to be the most frightening aspect of all. But she didn't mention that fear to her husband-to-be; he had already ensured her that the guards had sworn their allegiance--his and her own. It did offer her peace of mind; but did not make her fears and worries leave; nor the almost-constant nausea.

Her nose crinkled at a brisk knock on the door; and she huffed loudly as Sorei stepped in, and clapped her hands. "Up, milady. Up." Aine muttered something under her breath that caused the well-dressed guard to scoff. "You wish. Get up. Don't make me carry you--or did you forget I've gotten full use of both arms?" At those words, Aine leaned to sneak a quick kiss from her fiance, before rolling out of bed with a whine.

Once Aine was on her feet, Sorei claimed the girl's arm and began leading her off, calling behind her, "See you at the alter, loverboy."

[Namingtoohard]

"Mm, I suppose they will. One of the benefits of you coming into my room, I guess" the prince answered with a soft, sleepy, almost half-hearted chuckle. If such a thing meant he got to lay down and close his eyes for another five minutes before he had to start getting ready, even if Aine had already been dragged off, was enough of a benefit for the prince. At about this time, he considered making a playful grab for the last rasher of bacon that she was nibbling on, but she quickly distracted him with another question.

"Nope, no idea. The groom seeing the bride's frock before the wedding is a bit of a no-no. My reaction when I see you in it for the first time needs to be genuine, after all" he pointed out. The prince had some rough idea of what he himself would be wearing, but that was not something he was inclined to share, for very similar reasons. As she expressed her own worries, though, he would let out a soft sigh, reaching out to poke her forehead gently. "Oh, relax. Just how long have you been working at memorising the passage now? I'm sure you could recite it blindfolded, with Sorei hanging you from the top of the falls by your ankles"

That was to be about all the time they had together, though, as Sorei made her appearance. Smiling to himself, he would return the kiss wholeheartedly, before waving her off. He would snort softly at the one last comment that was sent his way, but he didn't object...until the others had vanished out the door.

"God forbid that two people in a pseudo-arranged marriage try and be happy" he grumbled softly to himself, yanking the covers up over his head and rolling over for another brief nap. Unfortunately, within five minutes, the door was pushed open, and Fiora would rip the bedspread back with careless abandon. "Come on, up already. Normally, most people are so nervous on their wedding day that they can't sleep" she scolded him, to which the prince groaned response. Rollong her eyes, she left him to pick himself up as she started laying out his attire.

By the time she was done, the prince was standing, albeit still looking somewhat sluggish. Turning towards him, she would point at the garb she had chosen. Leith had seen this before, given that he had packed it for the trip. It was mostly traditional Nevian wedding garb, but with an undoubtable touch of Sinder influence, to both appease the public and deal with the climate.

"Dress and meet me outside. If you aren't there in five minutes, I'll drag you down to the town square behind my horse, regardless of how much you have on" she remarked. With a soft sigh, he gave her a dismissive wave, though he turned to do as he was bade regardless.

[Fanatasia]

Aine huffed as she was stripped. Sorei had enlisted the help of six other servants. Two servants scrubbed the princess, while one worked on her hair, and Sorei and the rest were readying the gown--the headpiece; the veil. One maid settled a corset around the princess' chest, and stated, "You've only got to wear it for a bit. Not long." Sinderian women did not wear corsets; or really any kind of chest-binding, mainly because of the temperature, but also because of the 'naked is okay' factor. Aine did not know what to expect; however when the woman began to tighten the corset, she gasped and choked on her inhale, crying out. The maid paused, speaking, "Let yourself adjust, milady."

"It's the newest craze, milady. Everyone's aiming to get corsets. This one is imported from Duevia." The maid continued, as Aine's breathing adjusted; and she tied the ribbons off. "It is strange. A hinderance," she whispered, moving to settle into a seat another maid provided. "I do not like it." She uttered, to which the maid responded, "It's part of the dress."

She shushed as another maid set to do her hair--twisting the vibrant red tresses into curls, before braiding her locks lightly down the back of her head, in a single, thick braid--and twining small ribbons throughout her hair; a brilliant blue color. Then, Sorei stepped forward with a small jar, and moved to settle small butterflies against the princess' hair; living creatures, trained to stay in the position they were placed in, until freed--the ribbons in her hair were their guide as to where to stay; the fibers caused the small legs of the creatures to become tangled.

Then, came the rest of the gown. Aine was stood upright, and as Sorei and three other maides circled her, to pull the gown up her body slowly, the last two maids moved to slip the see-through fabric over her arms, and arund her thumbs--this gave her the appearance of having wings. Once the skirts were fastened in place, and the shoes were upon Aine's feet, she gingerly twirled, gasping, as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "I love it, Sorei!"

The other woman chuckled. "I know you do. It'll be a bit hotter than you're used too--but we decided to, overall, introduce new fashion as the norm. And who better to set the trend than our queen?" She chuckled softly, as she reached for the girl's hand. "Come, then. I imagine that Fiora has set off with Leith by this point."

Aine was led to her carriage, and settled into the back of it, before Sorei claimed the driver's seat. They'd start off at a slow walk; Sorei was intentionally planning to make Aine late.

[Namingtoohard]

The garb that was layed out before Leith was extravagant in its own right, as befitting a Nevian noble. Before he had even begun getting ready, he just took a few moments to look over it in silence, taking in its visage. Even at all the balls and festivals he had visited, he had never worn anything quite like it before. For the first time, a hint of nervousness crept into the prince, seating itself in the pit of his stomach. After a second, he dry-swallowed, trying to force them down. Given the strict time frame that his bodyguard had forcibly laid upon him, the prince didn't have much time for admiring things or revelling in the moment.

Rather predictably, the outfit as a whole was a light shade of blue, gentle on the eyes. That was about where the predictable side of things ended, though. Strange enough was the fact that the costume was lopsided - it only had one sleeve, on the right side, with an accompanying glove. The opposite arm was to be worn openly, on full display to the crowd. In Neve, this sort of design was usually used modestly, with the idea that showing such pure white skin was a sign of one's noble blood. He had no idea if the extra step taken was to appeal to the masses of Sinder, or to help deal with their hot climate. In this aspect, Leith was quite lucky - his injured arm would be the one to be worn openly, which was good as the gloved and covered one was more important concerning the ceremony.

Perhaps even stranger was the fact that the material of the outfit as a whole had a handful of small, perfectly formed crystals weaved into the material. They were hard to see with the naked eye, especially at a distance, but would catch the light spectacularly, glistening in the sunlight and throwing any hint of colour that they managed to grab. The effect was underwhelming here, indoors, but outside, it would make his costume shine - quite literally. As he moved in the sunlight, it would almost seem as the garb itself was alive, as all manners of whites and greys and blues danced across the fabric seemingly of their own accord. It was a technique that Neve's finest tailors only ever used for the highest possible occasions. This was also the reason the garb iteslf was somewhat plain to begin with.

The final piece of his ensemble was a large cloak, dyed a much deeper blue than the rest of his outfit. The material itself was light and breathable, but the outer edges all had thick fur sewn into them as a sort of lining; the sort taken directly from arctic wolves hunted in the reaches of his homeland. When Leith put it on, it nestled snuggly against the back part of his neck, creating a fur collar of sorts. Like the outfit itself, the cloak was also lopsided - on the same side as his open arm, the cloak stopped at the back of his shoulder, while on the other, it wrapped right around his side, partially concealing his gloved and covered arm. On the back, the symbol of Neve's royal house was emblazoned proudly.

Dressing took a little longer than he would have liked, and Leith had to end up calling Fiora to assist him anyway, given his physical limitations. Between the two of them, though, they had it done soon enough. Fiora would spare a few moments to straighten him out, before the two of them would begin the walk down the palace hallways and out into the courtyard. Normally, the prince arrived on horseback in Neve, but given his lack of personal mount and injury, Fiora had made alternate arrangements. There was a carriage waiting for the two, which they would take as close as they dare to the town square, before they would get out and walk the remainder of the way, so he could arrive on foot.

The trip was made with the company of six guards, in addition to Fiora, who all wore more ceremonial uniforms than their combat gear. Most of the trip would be taken in silence, until the carriage arrived as close as it dared. When they alighted, the friendly and playful Leith that had awoken this morning was gone, replaced with Leith the noble. With that, a messenger was sent to seek out the heralds that would begin his procession. Naturally, they all expected it would be some time yet until the princess bride arrived.

When the call went out, and the talk and laughter had quieted appropriately, the musicians would begin playing their piece quietly, to provide a bit of atmosphere. Straightening himself up one last time, the prince would take a deep breath, before stepping out into the public eye. With the crystals on his garb blazing, he would begin the slow and dignified walk to the alter, keeping his head up and shoulders back the whole time. The crowd parted for him naturally as he walked down a preordained path, murmuring softly amongst themselves. He couldn't make out the words, though he could feel every eye there boring into him. This time, even Fiora did not accompany him on the walk.

Once he had arrived at the alter, though, there was little more the prince could do. He came to a halt, trying to keep up his fearless and proud visage as he and the rest of the gathered populace awaited the arrival of Aine herself.

[Fanatasia]

As the carriage stopped, right behind Leith's own, Aine would step down from the carriage, to walk. Her guards strayed far behind her, and only Sorei walked beside of her. They were discussing whether the female guard would walk down the aisle with her; as it was customary for the Sinderian father or brother to give the bride away--and she had neither. With a soft shake of her head, Aine decided.

Her gait was slow, as she watched the people who had lagged behind--or were unsure as to whether to attend. She continued to walk, taking in the town; a lot of repairs had been done in such a short time. With a quiet hum, Aine would stop--she could hear the music. Her gaze turned to Sorei, who slipped away from her, whispering, "We'll fan out into the crowd. I'll let them know to start the march." With that, Aine was left alone--her guards dispersed out of her view; and Sorei slipped to signal the musicians, who would change their tune.

The tune change caused an uproar of murmurings, of whispers, as the princess was still not within view. Aine had closed her eyes, allowing the gentle caress of the wind to stroke her cheeks, her face--to convince her forward. After a moment, Aine began to walk, her hands resting in front of her as she walked. The 'princess of the people' looked the part she never felt she deserved--she looked the part; and what mattered, was how refined she was when she finally came into view. She was still getting used to the corset, however, scowling briefly to herself.

Her gaze skirted the citizens, and when she caught sight of Ledora, all dressed up--they had not found her a home; and Aine had insisted she live as a ward of the palace--she waved gently. However, the toddler did not know her place, and rushed to claim Aine's hand, this caused most of the crowd to chuckle, including Aine herself. It did calm her, to be escorted by such a little face. The child was quiet as she walked alongside Aine, careful of the dress the woman wore, even as she tripped and stumbled in her own dress and new shoes.

The fabric Aine wore caught the sunlight; bringing out the different purples--the different blues--the reflective surfaces of the butterflies wings, as they flexed their wings in the princess' hair. In her free hand, she held a bouquet of flowers; crystalline flowers--a 'forever' memory of the day. Around the stems of the crystal flowers, was a purple ribbon, tied in a perfect bow.

Aine, instead of sending the little girl off, simply waved the guard aside, and moved to whisper to the child, "You can stand here--" She would gesture to beside the priest. "--but be quiet, okay?" As the child agreed, and the populace once again chuckled, Aine straightened, and shifted nervously, before moving to offer the bouquet to the child to hold, smiling softly as Ledora sat herself carefully on the ground, with the crystal flowers on her lap.

As the priest stepped forward, and spoke to the couple before him, Aine closed her eyes briefly, fighting back her nerves. "Today we gather to see two nations, two cultures, and two people, become one."

[Namingtoohard]

Surrounded by nothing but the eyes and the mutterings of the public, the prince would stand at the alter in silence for several moments, maintaining his upright posture and focusing on his breathing as he tried to relax. It seemed to drag on forever, but that was to be expected - the bride was supposed to be fashionably late, after all. In the meantime, he took a few moments to admire the decor. Sorei and Fiora had done an impressive enough job on it all, to be sure.

Several moments passed, and for the first time, Leith found himself wishing that he had some sort of best man or a family member or the likes to attend him, just so he had somebody to speak with. Before long, though, his thoughts were dragged back to the present as the music finally changed, signalling the arrival of the bride. Immediately, the prince would half-turn, glancing back over his shoulder to try and catch a glimpse of Aine.

As she finally approached, well...the prince's jaw immediately dropped. Eyes going wide, he stood there frozen, mouth hanging open as he took in her approach with stunned silence. He had seen her naked more than once, with their midnight swims and all, and the Sinder people's lack of modesty. The prince had always thought her physically beautiful, even back in those first few days when they had only just met. Now, though, seemed like another level entirely. Everything just seemed to radiate otherworldly beauty and elegance, and for all his skill with the spoken language, the prince didn't think he could string any combination of words together to begin describing her radiant beauty in that moment.

The spell was seemingly broken as the little girl they had taken as a ward broke out from the crowd and approached the princess. Leith took a moment to recompose himself, finally shutting his mouth. As they all chuckled, he simply smiled warmly, watching their approach. When she and her new companion arrived, he would turn back to face forward again as the priest began his speech. Even as the man began to recite his opening lines, the prince felt the need to speak to Aine.

"You look absolutely stunning" he finally commented, speaking in a hushed tone, without anything more than a slight glance in her direction. The words felt vastly inadequate, but he needed to say something. The priest had likely herad, but continued unabated - such chatter between bride and groom was common, and he likely had plenty of experience with it. So long as it was kept to a minimum, and they spoke the necessary lines at the right time, it wouldn't be disruptive. As it was, the priest simply continued his piece.

"We gather to celebrate this union, one that was not entered into lightly, and the public declaration of their devotion that goes along with it. The essence of this commitment is the acceptance of each other in entirety - as lovers, companions, and rulers. The sharing of their responsibilities, hopes and dreams. It takes a special effort to grow together, weather hard times, and be loving, unselfish and ever-faithful to each other, and it is one that our bride and groom today have both decided they are prepared to make" he would start. At this, he would glance around briefly, smiling at both members of the procession, the crowd, and even Ledora.

"Do you both pledge to share your lives openly with one another, and to speak the truth in love? Do you promise to honor and tenderly care for one another, cherish and encourage each other, stand together, through sorrows and joys, hardships and triumphs for all the days of your lives?" The question came. Not proper vows or the final part of the ceremony - simply a brief prelude. Another shy smile, and a quick glance would be thrown in Leith's direction, before he would speak up. The two of them traditionally answered this together, in unison, before he continued.

"We do"