Chapter Text
Carter was going to kill himself before the day was over. Someway, he’d end up dead by nightfall. He’d made that decision easily enough, knowing he’d rather face the cold embrace of Death than truly go through with this.
This. He loathed it. The very idea of it. An arranged marriage, something he only thought existed in books now. And he was being forced into it. Marrying a man who wasn’t even a man.
At least, he thought with little amusement as he was stepping off the boat. My father arranged it with a man and not a woman.
Probably as a last ditch effort to get Carter to be somewhat enthusiastic about the situation.
“You’ll like him.” The god had reassured. “He’s your type.”
“And by that you mean he has a dick.” Carter had responded deadpan. Because he knew Vameus had no idea what his type actually was. All his father knew was that Carter was gay.
“I’m trying to make this painless,” Vameus had growled, eyes flashing dangerously. “We need this alliance, Carter. And you’re going to go along with it.”
Carter had stayed quiet after that. It was no use arguing and Carter was just… tired. He didn’t have the energy to make a fuss when he knew he couldn’t stop it.
I’m getting married to a fae being, Carter thought with a tiny snort as they were escorted across a lush garden courtyard towards a palace that looked like it was built from the stones of the Earth itself. Fifty years ago, I didn’t even know who I was, let alone that Faeries existed.
They passed under a large stone archway. Surrounding them on all sides were fae guards, their horns gleaming in the torchlight. Carter shuddered with the passing thought that he was about to become the devil’s “bride”.
Female servants passed them, tails swishing amongst skirts as they skittered through the halls. Carter stared at everything as they went, but his siblings and father paid no attention to anything but the path ahead. There were a handful of demigods attending the wedding besides himself. His sisters and brothers seemed… happy for him. Maybe they didn’t know he was being forced to do this. Maybe they didn’t care.
As the hall widened and a set of embellished double doors came into view, Carter held his breath. The doors opened and they stepped into the throne room. It was white stone, gold spandrels lining the doorways and engraved columns. Vines ran over the walls, stretching across the room as if the jungle outside was trying to get in. A raised dais housed a throne made of twisted vines and branches. Leaves and ferns spread out across the back, drawing attention to it.
And on the throne sat the King. He was tall, skin rich brown, horns curved and gray-ish brown, embellished with gold rings. He had a stubbly beard and long dark hair that was peppered with gray. He looked mid-thirties but Carter learned a long time ago that immortal kings could look however they wanted to.
A circlet made of twisting branches sat over his brow, inlaid in the center with an amber stone. His eyes were silver and hard like the metal they mirrored.
Arawn, King of Annwn, was not happy to see them.
“Hello, old friend.” Vameus greeted with the fakest of smiles.
Arawn glowered at the god. “We have not been friends for centuries, Vameus. I won’t pretend otherwise.”
Vameus’ smile dipped for a moment, jaw twitching in irritation. “Despite that, you have agreed to my proposal.”
“Out of necessity to protect my people from your ambitions,” Arawn said coldly. “And it was not I who agreed, it was my grandson.”
Vameus laughed with slight amusement. “Of course, your precious little wyr.” He was almost snarling. Carter shuffled awkwardly. “Where is your heir, Arawn? He could not be bothered to meet his new husband before the ceremony?”
“Mae fy ŵyr yn gwneud paratoadau ar gyfer y noson briodas. Byddwch yn amyneddgar yn fy nghartref, Vameus.” Arawn snapped.
Carter flinched. He wasn’t super well-versed in Welsh, but he’d caught some words. Like wedding night. He fought down a whimper and tears, hands beginning to shake. He wasn’t going to do this. He’d die before they made him a toy for a sleazy fae prince to use at his whims.
Vameus’ nose wrinkled with barely hidden disgust, but he pulled himself in and nodded. “Of course, Eich Mawrhydi.”
Arawn looked right at Carter, eyes softening the slightest. “Go now. Prepare yourselves for the ceremony. It begins at sundown.”
Carter found the wedding clothes… interesting, to be polite about it. The sleeves were sheer and flowy, pale blue in color, adorned with gold filaments around his biceps and wrists, and along his collarbone and shoulders. The sleeves parted at the elbows, leaving skin showing just enough. From the hips down it was more like a robe with that same sheer, flowy fabric with slits cut into threes to leave it flowing freely. Under that, thank the gods, were actual pants of a slightly darker blue. They were skin tight and had the same gold filaments around his ankles. He was left bare foot, one of his sisters explaining that the fae “didn’t believe in shoes”. They’d both had a giggle at that.
He didn’t always get along with his siblings, but he loved Anna Elizabeth. She was a cute round-faced young woman with tight blonde curls bunched up behind her head in some form of a ponytail. She had a thick country accent, and had grown up on a farm. She was thirteen when Vameus had offered her a place with him. A starving orphaned country girl with no family and not a penny to her name had taken him up on that offer quickly and greedily.
She reminded him of his mother.
“You look downright darlin’.” His sister gushed, smiling at him as they looked at their reflections in the mirror.
“I definitely feel pretty,” Carter muttered, admittedly not totally hating the get-up. But he still hated what it meant. “Beth,” he said softly, turning to look at her. “I know you can’t stay but… will you try to keep in touch? Please?”
Anna Elizabeth’s brows scrunched together and she gave a small semblance of a smile, cupping his face gently. “‘Course I will, Carter. We’re family after all.”
Carter gave a tiny smile at that, letting her kiss his forehead. “Thank you.”
“I ain’t lettin’ my baby brother be left all alone in a strange place without a pen pal.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m older than you.”
She laughed.
Their good mood was immediately cut short when the doors opened and their father walked in.
He looked at Carter, an eerie glint in his eyes. “Are you ready?”
“Would it matter?” Carter grumbled.
Vameus looked nearly sympathetic. “This is for the greater good.”
Carter took in a slow, shaky breath. He nodded, though he wanted to scream. “I know.”
Then the god smiled, gently kissing the side of his head. Carter tensed. It was nearly the same show of affection he’d just received from his sister, but it was… so different. It felt wrong coming from this god. Like everything he did to make Carter love him was fake. A means to an end.
It probably was. Carter wasn’t sure if he’d ever had a genuine show of affection from his father that didn’t have strings attached.
“Come along, my son.” Vameus said softly. “Time to meet your husband.”
Carter left that room, and any sense of hope within it.
The moment Carter saw him, his breath was sucked from his lungs. He was… gorgeous. His dark tanned skin gleamed in the light of the setting sun, gold eyes shimmering with life and joy. But despite that, at the moment he didn’t look happy. His hair was dark, long, and tied back in an intricate braid. He wore the same gold rings on his horns that his grandfather did, though his tail had a few more rings along the length and pierced into the tip. His pointed ears were also adorned with gold rings and tiny chains.
His clothing was similar in style to Carter’s, and one look at him told Carter exactly why they chose to show so much skin. It was to show off the dark markings along their backs and arms. It was like works of art pressed into skin. But unlike most of the fae Carter had seen, the prince also had a lighter set of markings on his skin that vaguely resembled insect wings. They twisted down his arms and back, disappearing under the fabric. Carter imagined they probably continued, but for how much longer he couldn’t tell.
You’ll probably see later, he thought. And then immediately hated himself for it. He hated that this annoyingly gorgeous fae prince was exactly his type. Maybe Vameus knew him a little better than Carter gave him credit for.
Carter realized he was staring when music began swelling through the hall and he was being urged down the open aisle. His father followed at his side, and despite his anger at him for being the reason for this, Carter couldn’t help but soak in the comfort his familiar presence brought.
They climbed the short steps of the raised dais, his heart thundering in his chest. He instinctively turned to face the prince, blood rushing in his ears so loudly any and all words being spoken were lost. Panic quickly overtook him as he stood there, frozen, staring at nothing. He felt listless. He wanted to scream. He wanted to hit someone. But he couldn’t so he just stood there, unmoving, unblinking as he was married against his will.
He didn’t even acknowledge it when the prince gently grabbed his hand to place a cold and heavy gold ring on his finger. He numbly returned the gesture after a look from his father, glancing down for a moment to see what he was doing. The rings were beautiful, gold and intricately woven. He couldn’t find it in himself to really care.
Words droned on, spoken by an older fae in a language Carter could barely process. There was a pause for a long moment. Carter blinked himself out of his haze, noticing the way the prince glanced at the fae “priest”. They shared a look, the prince’s shoulders drooped with resignation. Then he released Carter’s hands and reached for his waist instead.
Carter immediately tensed as he was drawn in close. He looked up at the prince, eyes wide, fear coursing through every vein in his body.
The prince looked… sorry. His brows were furrowed with sympathy. He looked anything but happy.
A cool hand cupped his jaw. Aureate eyes bore into his with apology. And the prince’s lips brushed over his.
It was a small thing. Not even really a kiss. But it seemed to count, because the crowd began to cheer and music swelled.
The fae were satisfied, but one look at his father, told Carter the god wasn’t. His muscles tensed again, the prince leading him away from the altar slowly.
He relaxed when he realized they were going through another set of double doors into a garden. It had been decorated for the wedding, beautiful flower garlands strung everywhere, tables placed neatly for people to sit if they wanted, a large open square for dancing.
Carter took his place stubbornly next to his new husband at the couple’s table and refused to get up. The prince didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he didn’t seem to mind about a lot of things.
He greeted everyone who came up to congratulate them with a polite smile and shining eyes. He stayed beside Carter the whole night, occasionally giving him a glance. Carter stiffened under his gaze, refusing to look at him, wondering with a shiver of disgust just where those gold eyes were looking on him.
After a while, the prince kept a soft and gentle hand on his wrist. Carter was appalled at first, tensing up again. But after a while he got used to the weight and stopped trying to mentally make the man keep his hands to himself.
At least he’s only holding my wrist, Carter thought, knowing that if he wanted to, that hand would be somewhere else and Carter wouldn’t have a say against it. This wasn’t a marriage, it was a sell-out. He wasn’t someone’s husband, he was a prince’s prize. The treasure in a dragon’s hoard. The wedding night was going to make all of that very clear. This pitiful attempt at sympathy to make Carter like him wasn’t going to work. None of it was going to work.
After hours into the celebration, Carter finally glanced at the prince. And seeing he wasn’t watching him for once, quickly palmed a knife off the table, slipping it under his sleeve. One way or another, tonight he was going to die. With any luck, they both were.
At that moment, an older fae man walked up to them. He bowed low, showing the prince a great deal of respect.
Definitely more than he deserves, I bet. Carter thought glumly.
The two spoke in that same ancient language, then they were beckoned to stand and follow the fae nobleman. He steeled his nerves as he was led back into the palace, this time accompanied only by the two fae. They walked down a series of halls, passing door after door. Each one came hauntingly into his view, sure that it would be the one and he’d be forced to act.
But they didn’t stop until they’d climbed a ridiculous amount of stairs and arrived in front of another goddamn door. The nobleman swept another bow as they walked in. Carter’s heart lodged in his throat when the door shut. And locked.
He slipped the knife handle into his palm, shakily waiting to be touched or kissed or manhandled onto the bed. But the fae prince didn’t even look at him. He walked away from the door, back to him. Carter had a clear shot. Why wasn’t he taking it?
“You’re not going to need that,” the prince said softly, back still to him.
“What?” Carter finally spoke for the first time in hours, his voice rough. His palm was sweaty against the knife’s hilt.
“I’m not going to touch you,” he said. “I know you didn’t agree to this.”
Carter stared at him, mind spiraling. “You… wait, what?”
“There’s another room for you, right through that door.” The prince continued, pointing at a heavy dark oak door across the room that nearly blended in with the wall.
Carter looked at it, blinked, then looked back at the prince. “I’m… I’m so confused.”
The prince sighed, glancing at him. “Unless I’ve misread your loathing demeanor and you would actually prefer me to defile you?”
Carter glowered at the heavy sarcasm. “Like you weren’t eager to get me alone in here so you could have your own way with me.”
The prince’s brows furrowed. He looked offended. “I am not the type of man to take advantage of a person in such a vulnerable situation. I want to help you.”
“I don’t want your pity, asshole.”
The fae frowned, turning fully to face him. “My grandfather agreed to the marriage because he felt it would keep our people safe from the gods. I said yes because I took one look at you and I knew—” he stopped himself, looked away, swallowed thickly, then continued. “I knew that I couldn’t let you stay under your father’s thumb for any longer. You looked miserable… you still do.”
Carter twisted the knife in his hand, still tempted to stab him, even despite the clear contempt he had for Carter ever thinking he might rape him. “And what do you think I need your help with?”
“I’m offering you sanctuary,” he said softly. “Away from your father and his abuses. I am… here for you. As a friend.”
Carter glowered at him.
“If not a friend,” he said, nose wrinkling slightly at his sarcasm in a way Carter thought was way too cute. “An ally.”
Carter thought about it, turning the offer over in his head. It was definitely a step up from what he thought this was goingto be. And he’d take a sham political marriage with zero intimacy over a sham political marriage with constant sexual abuse.
“I’m good for that,” Carter admitted, relaxing slightly. He didn’t think the prince was lying to get him to drop his guard, but he’d learned to never really relax around people he didn’t trust. “But um… aren’t we supposed to consummate the marriage? Like, isn’t it going to be a bad thing if we don’t?”
The prince laughed. “I mean, technically we’re supposed to, but who’s going to know what happened in this room tonight? Who’s going to care if we tell them we did and it’s a lie? This is for political advantage and nothing else, I’m not going to make you have sex with me for a marriage that has nothing to do with love.”
Carter’s shoulders began to drop at that, the tenseness bleeding from his muscles. He was good at knowing when people were lying. And the prince was about as sincere as one could get. “Thank you.”
A smile pulled at the prince’s lips. The realest smile he’d seen from him all night. “You’re welcome.”
“I’m Carter,” Carter offered, remembering they’d never exchanged names.
“Hisirdoux,” the prince said. “My friends call me Douxie.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Hisirdoux.”
His smile widened, fangs flashing in the low lamplight. “I said my friends call me Douxie.”
Carter finally let out a laugh at that, relieved beyond all belief that this had turned out well. “It’s nice to meet you, Douxie.”