The King's Bed Chamber
Hey all! This is my first upload in two years...so be kind. I'm a bit rusty.
The King's Bedchamber
Aislynn sat on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths to calm herself. She had reason to weep, being a bride. She was far from home, married off to a prince she had never met, in a strange land she had never been to before. Before now, she had never even left her father's palace. She had no choice in her husband - God help me, I am a married woman now - and, she gathered, he had no choice but to marry her.
The badger female hung her head and sighed, fingering the embroidery of her wedding dress. She had already scanned the room, her bridal chamber. Tapestries hung on each wall, each one showing intricately woven scenes of court life. Fine ladies dressed in wools and furs - not the silks and linens she was used to - gentlemen in glittering robes, statesmen, courtiers, and then the king and queen...her new inlaws. Aislynn didn't even know what her husband looked like. The veil she had worn was much too thick to properly see through. All she knew was that he was a wolverine, crown prince in a country that spent much of the year covered in snow.
She missed her home already. By now, the harvest would be beginning, a time she loved. Instead, a snowstorm raged outside in this strange and desolate land. The winds howled like wolf packs fighting for supremacy, and despite the warmth coming from the fireplace, she shivered.
The bed she sat on was a four-poster canopied in heavy red fabric, and curtains were tied back at each post, to be released each night to keep the cold at bay. This room was warm, decorated in reds and golds. It seemed that in a country that so rarely saw even flowers, these people loved colors. A fire blazed in the fireplace, stoked up by the maids who had led her in here directly after the ceremony. They had brought her food from the banquet she was not allowed to attend - a strange law of this country, one she hoped to change once she was queen. Another maid brought in logs for the fire, then curtsied and quickly left, locking the door behind her, should Aislynn bother to run away. It was too late now anyway. She was married to a man she had never met. How did she even know he would like her? The badger knew better than to expect love from this marriage; it was a political marriage, one of convenience. Such marriages were almost universally unhappy ones, meant only to produce heirs. That was all she was. A means to an end.
The lock turned, but she didn't bother to turn to the door. She heard heavy footsteps, then the hinges creaking in protest as the heavy door closed behind the interloper. Aislynn knew who it was. Her husband, the crown prince. It had to be. She closed her eyes and hoped that something good would come of this.
"You are unwell?"
Aislynn straightened up, letting out a soft gasp. She had only heard that voice once, and the only words it had spoken were "I will" when asked if it took her as his wife. At the time of the ceremony, she had no idea her intended even knew how to speak her language. There was so much she didn't know about him...how much did he know about her? The badger's heart quickened. "I do not know what you mean," she answered.
"You did not finish your supper. Are you unwell, or did you not care for it?"
She shook her head. "I am much too nervous to be hungry, my lord."
"Nervous?"
"I am."
She still had not turned to look at him.
He let out a breath - had he been holding his breath as much as she had? - and walked toward the bed. Aislynn stiffened as he drew closer, and her stomach clenched with nerves.
"Why are you nervous?"
Aislynn snorted before she could stop herself. "I am very lately married to a man I do not know, and though I am yet innocent, I am very well aware what is expected of us tonight. And there is no guarantee that after tonight, we would even like each other. I dare say I have plenty to be nervous about!"
Then he did something that shocked her: he laughed.
"Oh, thank God!" he chuckled, "I thought I was alone!"
Aislynn finally turned to look at him. She could still barely see his outline through her heavy veil. He sighed heavily. "For heaven's sake, woman, you can take the veil off now."
Aislynn blindly reached up and tried to find the hairpins keeping the veil atop her head. After another sigh, her husband reached over and started removing the hairpins himself. Idly, he said, "I have heard you are very pretty. Is this true?"
"I cannot answer that. I am hardly an unbiased judge."
He laughed again, even though her comment had come out more tartly than she intended. Finally he lifted the veil off her head and for the first time, she could see her husband's face. She had heard about Crown Prince Roderick, and the ladies of her home's court had gossiped about his looks; more so, they gossiped about his ferocity in battle. He and his father had reputations on the battlefield, which was part of the reason Aislynn's father arranged the match in the first place: for peace. Her father dared not rise up against this ruling family of wolverines. Badgers were formidable opponents themselves...but even they knew discretion was oftentimes the better part of valor. Wolverines on the other hand did not know the meaning of "retreat" or "surrender". Aislynn had been told there were no such words for it in the wolverine language. The only thing that came close was loosely translated as "shame".
Prince Roderick certainly looked formidable with his well-built body, sturdy as an oak, and penetrating dark eyes that shone - remarkably - with intelligence that Aislynn had not expected. His people had often been written off as barbarians, and true, his ancestors had sent their dragon ships across the northern sea to sack and pillage the monasteries and churches of her country. They had been fierce then, and very little had changed in the last few hundred years. But Roderick, evidently, was a scholar as well as a warrior. His face was well-formed, with a strong jaw and slightly defined cheekbones, mostly hidden beneath the thick brown fur. His face was free of pockmarks and other indicators of illness. But the thing that disarmed her most, aside from his handsomeness, was his smile. His face lit up when he looked upon her.
"I should punish those gossips next I see them," he vowed. "They did you no justice at all."
Aislynn blushed a little and smiled back. "Rumors I have heard about you are similarly unfounded. Though I hear you are as much a scholar as a soldier."
He flippantly tossed her veil aside. "Guilty, I am afraid, much to my father's chagrin."
"He should be proud. You speak my country's language so well, hardly any accent at all!"
"I had a good tutor." He started loosening the ties to the coat he had worn at the ceremony, and sat to remove his boots. The way he moved, so casual, put her at ease, though the way he fumbled at the buckles and ties, she wondered if he was nervous as well? "I speak four languages, have studied alchemy and astronomy - I've an excellent telescope to see the constellations, I will show you some night, when it's clear - and have read all the ancient classics. But do not be intimidated."
"Why should I be intimidated?"
"I was told you were not as accomplished as your sisters."
"If by 'accomplished', you mean I am poor at embroidery, refuse to hold my tongue in a debate, and can't draw or dance, you would be correct."
"How did you occupy your time?"
"I know three languages aside from my mother tongue, all but one Continental. I also studied the classics. I much prefer Aristotle to Plato."
"Plato speaks so plainly."
"Exactly, since Aristotle speaks in tongues! At least Plato is more direct."
"True, but Aristotle's dialogues have a certain poetry to them."
Aislynn asked,"Are you a poet, Your Highness?"
He got his boots off and shrugged off his coat. "Be grateful my betrothal present to you was a necklace and not a sonnet: any affection you may have fancied to have would have been killed stone dead from the first quatrain."
Aislynn finally grinned at this. After a pause, she said, "The necklace is lovely. It felt so delicate, I was afraid to wear it."
"Amber is more resilient than you think, but if you desire, I will have royal jewelers make the gold chain stronger."
"Thank you."
They fell silent again, though the badger female's stomach answered for both of them. Sheepishly, she reached for the bread on her plate and began to eat. He poured two goblets of wine - a wedding gift from the Continent - and handed her one. He noted that the food had chilled and offered to warm it by the hearth so that it was edible again. Aislynn only nodded and watched him as he moved. Such an easy stride, like he was so sure of himself, like he planned out every move before taking a step...very unlike his father, who barged into whatever space he entered, and seemed almost clumsy. Many of the wolverines seemed clumsy compared to this man...this man who was expected to deflower her.
Stop it, she told herself. Stop worrying about it. Being plucked hasn't killed a woman yet, and it won't kill you. She shivered, rubbing her arms against a chill as the wind howled even louder outside.
"Here," Roderick said, taking her hand and leading her towards the fire. "Sit here, I will set everything right."
Before she could ask, he had yanked the covers off the bed and laid them on the floor before the fireplace. There was a rug beneath them to provide some measure of comfort, but it seemed a rather uncomfortable prospect. Even more uncomfortable was watching him disrobe.
Oh God, does he intend to do this now?
"Do you need help?" he asked.
"Ah, um..." she fumbled with the laces to her bodice. "I..."
"There is no shame. We are allowed to see each other now."
"I know, but..."
"I will make you warm. Please, let me."
Aislynn let her hands fall to her sides. Roderick extracted a knife from a pocket and simply sliced the laces rather than bother untying them. He shook his head and marveled how she didn't freeze with the thin material of this gown. She closed her eyes a moment, then averted her gaze towards the fire, focusing on that rather than the fact this was the first time a man would see her, naked as Eve before she learned Shame. When he finally pulled the material away from her shoulders and let it drop to her hips, she instinctively covered her bare breasts with her arms.
If he was offended, he didn't say anything about it. He merely sighed shortly, then drew her into his arms, and under the blankets. Aislynn shivered at first, for several reasons. The cold outside, the cold stone floor beneath the rug and blankets, the fact she was alone with this man and they were both as naked as Adam and Eve...
But he made no other move than to wrap his arms around her and the blankets around the both of them, and held her still while she shivered.
"First thing tomorrow," he whispered, "I will speak to the royal clothiers, get you some proper clothes. What you brought is too thin, you will freeze."
"As you wish, my lord."
"Don't call me that: my mother says it to my father when she's cross about something. Please call me Roderick. What shall I call you?"
"Aislynn, if it pleases you."
"Were you taught to speak this way?" he asked, and he sounded a bit annoyed.
"Am I meant to speak any other way?"
He snorted. "You will need to be more assertive if you want to survive this court. Speak your mind, everyone will respect you faster than if you are timid. Besides, you are a badger: it is unlike your kind to back down from a fight."
Aislynn was taken aback. He sounded like he genuinely respected her people, which was far more generous than her people had been toward his. Trying not to think too much about it, she reached for the food that had warmed slightly and began eating. Roderick reached his muscled arm out and took a few bites himself.
"Did you not get enough food at the feast?" she asked.
"I always hated that tradition," he scoffed. "Once I am king, things will change."
"Like what?"
"Fewer wars, more treaties, for one."
Aislynn turned to stare at him in bewilderment. He must have caught her incredulous look from the corner of his eye; he was still watching the flames as he said, "My elder brother was slain in battle. Had he lived, no doubt you would be his bride, not mine."
Aislynn kept her silence, out of respect. She doubted he expected her to respond. Indeed, the wolverine reached for his goblet of wine and took a long drink from it. "I was at that battle. We were close, Lars and I. Losing him was the worst feeling I have ever had. I was never meant for the throne, not like he was."
"I'm sure you will rule as he would have. I cannot see how he could not be proud of you..." she paused when he stared at her; she covered quickly, "After all, you were close, as you said, and, well, I am proud of my younger siblings for what they have done, so, as an older sister...well, it is not a perfect comparison, but I am sure he is proud..." she trailed off, and helped herself to her own long sip of wine. Her face blazed, from wine or from embarrassment, she didn't know which. After a long, tense moment, where she feared she had insulted him somehow, she was relieved when he finally let out a long sigh.
"Yes...yes, I suppose he must be."
The wind howled louder outside and the badger shuffled closer to her husband, shivering slightly. She was pressed against his body, his warmth seeping into her. Taking a chance, she rested her head on his shoulder. Wasn't this what lovers did in those ballads to show their devotion? He responded by putting down his goblet and wrapping his arms around her tighter. His hands roamed down her back; she stiffened as shivers ran up her spine. Then she gasped when he pressed his lips to the side of her neck.
"I do not want to think of such things now," he whispered. His hands moving down to her hips and backside told Aislynn what he had in mind.
"Then perhaps," she said, "we ought to move to the bed?"
He stood up abruptly, and all but dragged her to the bed. She bit back on a surprised cry, but grunted when he picked her up and quickly deposited her on the bed. He climbed over her and held himself over her naked body, looking her up and down. Aislynn chanced a look down his body as well. There were a few scars, likely from battle, but her eyes were more drawn to what hung between his legs. Embarrassed, she still couldn't take her eyes off it as it twitched, thickened, grew, as if on its own. Roderick saw where her gaze went.
"You are a virgin?"
"Yes."
"It may hurt."
"I know."
He lowered himself and kissed her, pressing his body against hers. The chill in the room was forgotten as he lay on top of her, rubbing against her. She shivered, but welcomed the warmth coming from his body. The badger had no idea what she was doing, no idea what to do with her hands, if she should wrap her arms around him, no idea. No one had told her what to do for this. Was she supposed to move? To talk? Was she supposed to do or say anything? What did married people do during this act?
"Do you trust me?" he asked suddenly. What kind of question was that, she wondered. They had just met, was she really expected to trust him...to love him? But she nodded anyway, not wanting to offend him. He lifted himself off her, and she shivered from the cold again. His hands came up to cup her breasts, his thumbs rubbing over her nipples, which had become hard from the cold and the anticipation. Strangely, this felt...nice. She moaned suddenly, but bit down on her finger in shame, blushing as he looked up at her face. He only smiled, leaning down to kiss her neck.
Aislynn had no idea what to think. These simple touches felt so nice, his large, warm hands on her breasts, his lips and teeth gently grazing her neck, his hot breath against her neck, and a sudden firmness against her thigh...
He broke away and began kissing down her body, stopping just long enough to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Aislynn blushed furiously, but it felt so good; she was too embarrassed to moan, but she whimpered a little, shivering, but not from the cold. Roderick worked his way down further, pushing himself between her legs, his face going lower and lower...
"What on earth are you doing?" she asked breathlessly.
"Do you not trust me?"
"Isn't this a sin?"
He gave her an odd look. "How is loving my wife a sin?"
"The priests..." she meant to say the priests of her country railed against sins of the flesh, and--they were adamant about this--the only acceptable position for intercourse between a man and wife was with the man on top. Nothing else. Love and passion were for fools who signed themselves over to lust and oh Holy Mother of God, what was he doing?!
Aislynn gasped loudly and let out a surprised moan as Roderick's tongue first made contact with her nether lips. She didn't get a chance to recover to question him further before he dove back in, burying his muzzle in between her legs, licking and kissing, flicking his tongue between her folds. His hot breath on her most sensitive parts made her shudder uncontrollably, her whole body soon shaking. What was happening to her? She had never felt this before...but she didn't want him to stop, though she was very uncomfortable. This had to be a sin...it seemed anything that brought this much pleasure was a sin, at least according to the Church.
But, if her position in Hell was preordained, she figured, she might as well enjoy this...as long as she confessed and repented later.
Roderick's hands had snaked around her thighs, holding her down as he continued his ministrations, leaving long, slow licks up the length of her slit. But it was what he did next that made her cry out in surprise. He lifted his head. "Are you hurt?"
Aislynn had no idea how to answer that. It didn't hurt. At least she didn't think it did. "I don't know..."
He licked that spot again, and she received the same jolt. It made her cry out as pleasure shot up her body, straight to her brain, this time stronger. "Please," she panted, "Please do that again."
And he obliged...several times.
The badger now knew what to do with her hands. She curled them in her hair, which had fallen out of what hair pins had been left, her fingers clenched in the sheets and on the pillow. She panted, letting out breathless moans, whines, and gasps. She marveled that she could feel his smile against her, and that, somehow, he seemed to be enjoying this as much as she was.
But he was anxious for more, and truth be told, so was she. Roderick raised himself on all fours again and crawled over her, between her legs. Wetting his palm, he rubbed his member, which seemed bigger than Aislynn remembered. You're nervous, she told herself. You're nervous, and it will hurt, you know that, so stop...
He positioned the head against her nether lips, and slowly began to push in.
She hissed as she was stretched for the first time. He leaned down and kissed her neck, whispering in her ear, "Relax, it gets better."
She took some deep breaths, trying to focus on his hands kneading her breasts, his hot tongue leaving a trail of moisture along her neck and shoulder. He eased in deeper. She was still uncomfortable, but coaxed him on. She was waiting for the pain to hit, and it happened so suddenly, she was surprised by how little it actually did hurt. His hips came flush against hers, and that was when she realized he was all the way inside her. The worst of it was over.
He moaned over her, a hand reaching up to take hers and clasp it. He lowered his body until it lay flush with hers, his thick fur protecting her from the cold in the room. Then he began to move inside her, an action that made her gasp and moan in spite of herself.
Aislynn wrapped her arms around him, her hands on his shoulders as his gentle rocking quickly became firm thrusts. It was still uncomfortable, but it was much more enjoyable than she expected. He rocked against her, pushing harder and deeper into her. He was fast, and he was fierce, growls rumbling deep in his throat and chest. Aislynn gave herself over to it: his hot breath against her neck, the gentle rubbing down her sides that quickly turned to desperate gropes as he picked up the pace. She could do little else than thread her fingers through his hair and hold on for dear life as he moved faster, and harder. The harder he pushed, the more she enjoyed it. She lost all awareness of time, no idea how long it had been...minutes, hours? But she did know something seemed to be building inside her, a pulsing, wild heat that grew stronger the more he moved inside her. She squealed, digging her fingers into his shoulders, feeling her body shiver against her will...
Then he jerked and slammed his hips hard against hers. Aislynn gasped from the force of it, feeling, for the first time, his seed flowing into her. It was hot, but it gave her such a feeling of fullness that she didn't mind. He shuddered above her, let out a long breath, then was still. He rested his head against hers, breathing hard. She could smell the wine on his breath, the sweat dripping off his body onto hers. She wrapped her arms around him and held him close, and ran a hand down his back, coming to rest at the small of his back.
Roderick pushed himself up onto his elbows and smiled down at her. "Still nervous?"
"What?"
"Are you still nervous?"
"No."
"Good." He paused. "Do you think you can eat something now?"
She nodded.
He smiled again. "Good." And just like that, he left her to get the tray of food. Aislynn laid there on the mattress, and though she should have been embarrassed for the way her legs were spread, she felt no strength to move them. She felt no strength to move at all. Was this just hunger, she wondered, a weakness from having too little to eat? Or was it more likely to be the intimate act that they had just...enjoyed? Had she enjoyed it? More importantly, had he enjoyed it?
Roderick returned to the bed with the tray of food and set it down next to her. She sat up and reached for the bread and tore into it. He chuckled. "This appetite suits you better. You're awfully thin."
"Is that a problem?" she asked after swallowing.
"We will feed you well here. Men in my country tend to prefer women with more meat on their bones."
"I wager the bigger women are the ones that survive the winter."
He roguishly grinned. "That too."
The badger female kept eating until the tray was empty, then laid back in the cushions, belly finally full, and she feeling finally warm. The tray was taken away, then he crawled into bed next to her. Before he pulled the covers up, Aislynn got a chance to look down at the sheets...
"I suppose I'm no longer a virgin."
"You sound sad," he said.
"I don't know how I should feel, to be honest. A woman's virtue is everything."
"In your land, maybe. Here, no one gives a damn. What matters is how strong you are." He laid down, his chest to her back, and curled his body around hers. "Now sleep...wife."
Aislynn had to smile, and closed her eyes on her first night in her new home.