title: Marriage of State
author: Uther Pendragon
keywords: Mf 1st
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This material is Copyright, 2003, Uther Pendragon. All rights
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All persons here depicted, except public figures depicted as
public figures in the background, are figments of my imagination
and any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly
coincidental.
# # # # # #
Marriage of State
by Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
His French is very strange, although Parisians might mock us
both. That horrid jumped-up wine merchant, Geoffrey, certainly
would. I'll have to learn Bavarian, of course; but that can
wait.
Meanwhile, the preparations move on. We're always being
rushed from one place to another, but nothing seems to get done.
It will all be done by noon tomorrow, however, or won't be done
at all.
My gown is terribly ornate. This is a wedding, not a coronation.
That will come sooner or later. I will say with all honesty that
it can come later for all my wish.
He is not *that* old, closer to Henry's age than to Father's. I
hope that he can be as merry as Henry can. We don't see much of
each other outside of public occasions, though. I can't remember
even Henry being merry with the whole court looking on. The talk
in privacy will come soon enough.
Let me be honest. The privacy will come tomorrow night, and
that is much too soon.
- = -
The Latin was almost the same, at least. The marriage service
seemed much longer than others I've attended. I say so to Henry
when we get a moment to speak after the feast. "It lasts much
longer when one is at the altar," he answers. "I can remember my
own wedding. Let me get you a cup of wine, and you can get back
to the dancing."
"I think that I have had too much wine already."
"No, little sister, not nearly enough." I take his meaning,
and his offered cup. Hereafter I will drink when I am not
dancing. But I am already a little dizzy.
- = -
The ladies lead me to the bedchamber and remove all my clothes,
but they let me get into bed well before the gentlemen lead him
in. They do this gravely, with less merriment than the women
showed. The men who relieve him of his clothes are permanently
charged with the task and do it neatly. The king makes pushing
motions with his hands. "Rouse, rouse," he says. Far from
arousing them, this gets them out. He turns in the doorway to
look straight at me where I am cowering under the covers. "Good
night, Princess," he says. He walks through the door and it
closes behind him. It was kind of him to learn that much
English.
Now we are alone.
I can't help looking at his center as he walks towards the bed.
He is not totally erect, but getting more so. It looks awfully
large. Then he gets under the sheet. His motion in doing so
exposes my breasts. I pull the sheet back up. "Marie'e" he says
and pulls it down again. That is true; I am a bride. Or we are
married; whichever he meant, it is true.
He leans over and kisses me. This is our second kiss on the
lips, before this it was my hand. His tongue invades my mouth.
Does every bridegroom do this? I know about the other invasion,
am prepared for it. But this seems somehow more intimate.
His hand is on my breast, as well. This is supposed to be
exciting, like spinning around. I don't feel that. It is all I
can do to keep from cringing. He rubs there for a moment,
strokes down to my center. I can't help moving my legs together.
When he pulls them apart, though, I don't resist. He feels my
center for a minute, then climbs between my legs. I raise my
knees and spread my arms out as Mother taught me to do. I also
grit my teeth. He fumbles down there for a moment, and then I
feel it pressing against me.
He lunges forward and inward. That *hurts*, and I scream. He
pulls the top of the sheet to my mouth. I take it between my
teeth, and he moves inward once more. When I am full, crammed to
bursting, with him, I feel his groin pressed against mine. He
kisses me, invading my mouth once more. Then he is moving back
and forth above me and within me. The strokes hurt significantly
less than the first one, but they hurt none the less. He pushes
so hard that my head bangs up against the headboard. He grunts
and -- then -- collapses.
He is heavy on me and panting in my ear. "Frow," he gasps. I'm
not frowzy; I bathed this morning. When I hear him begin to
snore, I push him off me. Then I have to pull the covers from
underneath him.
I am a princess. I will *not* cry.
The End
Marriage of State
Uther Pendragon
anon584c@nyx.net
2003/08/28
Thanks to Denny for editing this.
Another story about another couple beginning marriage:
forest.txt
"Forest"
The index to almost all my stories:
http://www.asstr.org/~Uther_Pendragon/index.htm