A Fairy-Tail Marriage

*****

Althea refused to cry as her mother flitted about tailoring her own wedding dress to fit her daughter while in human size. Her fury went beyond tears. She vibrated with it, her body taut with tension as her mother worked. Occasionally, Althea would ignore her mother’s request to lift her arms or hold her head up. Her mother had resorted to magic to forcefully hold her arms up until Althea had agreed to do as requested when requested.

She hadn’t spoken since her father had essentially laid down the law. The next morning, she would be marrying the werewolf king, and there was nothing she could do about it. But she wouldn’t be pleasant about it; she rejected every effort her mother made to draw her into the excitement of the beautiful dress.

The sleeveless dress was an iridescent shade of white that fit snugly against her torso before blossoming like a flower at her waist, falling to the floor in thin layers. The bodice and hem had been trimmed in her mother’s favorite color of lace, cerulean, and her mother had inquired about her favorite color. Grudgingly, Althea had revealed that she preferred the green color of holly leaves, a similar shade to her eyes, and as she watched, her mother had transformed the trim. Althea would not tell her mother how beautiful the dress looked on her, but to herself, she admitted the truth: she loved the way the dress hugged her curves without being tacky, and the green was perfect.

After an hour of near silence, Althea asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “And where exactly is the happy occasion to take place?”

Mariah had started at her daughter’s voice. “Um, right outside near the stream. Our family and friends are decorating the area right now.”

“And I suppose there will be a dinner?”

“Yes. At the tavern in the werewolf village.”

“How elegant,” Althea replied blandly. “I suppose they’ll be serving raw meat and tankards of beer. Such a beautiful reception.”

Mariah rose and faced her daughter, her expression filled with anger. She pointed a finger at Althea. “You will mind your tongue, young lady, and be grateful you aren’t marrying some ogre.”

“You don’t know I’m not marrying an ogre in a pretty package,” Althea retorted. “Wasn’t yesterday the first time you’ve laid eyes on him, let alone spoken to him. You know nothing about him.”

“I know he is the king of the werewolves,” Mariah answered. “And I know that his people love him. And there are many weeping werewolf females around the kingdom who were hoping he would choose one of them when he was ready to choose.”

“Let him choose one of them then,” Althea said. “Just because he’s a wonderful public figure doesn’t mean he’s as good behind closed doors. And you’re sending me to him as if I’m something to sell. What if he beats me? Or forces me to do disgusting things?”

“I would know if he was a deviant, Althea.”

Althea halted the tirade ready to explode out of her mouth and considered. “Are you saying you have spies in the werewolf castle?”

Mariah sniffed. “I do not have spies anywhere, dear. I just know things.”

Althea didn’t know which was true, if her mother had spies or if she really was a clairvoyant, but either way, her mother’s information had never been wrong.

Her mother took her hand. “Althea, I know this isn’t what you dreamed of for your wedding. But as a member of the royal family, you must make sacrifices for the kingdom. This is yours.”

Althea’s head drooped. “Mother, I’m sacrificing my entire life. Possibly my happiness. To ask this of me is to ask for everything.”

“I know, love, but I can’t change it. Braxton is a good man who will treat you well. Don’t go into this with bitterness in your heart. You’ll grow old before your time.”

“What am I supposed to feel, Mother?” Althea pleaded.

Mariah sighed. “The man is kind. It’s clear in his eyes.” She bumped Althea’s shoulder with her own as she walked around her, surveying the dress one more time before she let her remove it. “And he’s certainly not hard on the eyes!”

Althea giggled but sobered quickly. “That is true. But what if I’m not happy? What if we can’t get along?”

“You’ll have to find a way, my dear,” Mariah told her. “Let’s get you out of the dress. You’ll want to take a long, hot bath with a glass of wine for company. You’ll be less nervous that way tomorrow morning.”

Althea stared at her mother. Her anxiety, her fears, nor her anger would be diminished by a hot bath and a glass of wine. She’d need a much more powerful antidote for those things, such as a reversal of the decision. Which wouldn’t happen. She sighed despairingly as her mother helped her out of the dress, and she resigned herself to her fate; she would marry a man she didn’t love, a man she didn’t even know, and she would have to live with it for the rest of her life.

*****

“I have to live with this woman for the rest of my life!” Braxton growled into his mug of beer, his spirits low. “I know I agreed in the moment, but now that I’ve had time to think, I’m wondering if this isn’t a huge mistake!”

Blake had been listening to his best friend moan over the decision for the last hour without saying much. Really, the man had repeated himself again and again. He jumped when Braxton slammed his palm on the table to emphasize his next point.

“I haven’t even seen what she looks like! She could be a hippo with teeth to match for all I know!” Braxton shook his head, despair warring with drunkenness.

Blake chuckled. “I’ve heard she’s lovely, Braxton. As I told you twenty minutes ago when you brought it up for the second time. So this is time number three.”

Braxton glared at him and pointed a finger accusingly at him. “This is really your fault, you know.”

“Why’s that?” Blake asked, although his already knew the answer.

“You pushed me into this marriage,” Braxton grumbled before taking another swig from his nearly empty fourth tankard of beer.

“You know this is the best way to end the nonsense between the werewolves and fairies,” Blake reminded him again.

Braxton put his forehead on the table in defeat. “I know. And I know it’s not your fault.” He sat up suddenly, and Blake put his hand out and caught the tankard before it tipped over. “But I’ve never wanted to get married. To anyone! And especially not to a woman I’ve never met.”

“You never had that choice, Braxton, and you know it,” Blake told him. He put the tankard on the table next to them and gestured the owner away as he carried another full glass for Braxton. “Eventually, an heir would have been necessary.”

“An heir? That’s another issue,” Braxton said. “What kind of child will she and I be able to produce? Half werewolf, half fairy? What will it look like? What skills will it possess?”