A Wicked Little Ring

Hey everyone, Fluffles here! This time I've got a story about the expectations placed upon women in fantasy settings, and what might happen when a lesbian is married to a man.

CW: Domestic Abuse, Alcoholism, Forced Heterosexuality

*****

Their glances ate away at me, piece by piece, bit by bit. I wasn't the focus of their attention, far from it, but their lecherous gazes, so blatant despite the presence of my husband, made my skin crawl. I hesitated to excuse myself, hesitated escaping to the latrine for the umpteenth time today, because of the gossip I heard from the maids. Such strong seed, the King has. What a beautiful baby it will be.

I choked down the vomit in my throat. Sit up, stick out your chest. You're a lady, act like one.

I gazed at nothing as the lords bickered around me, vying for my husband's attention on this little squabble, or that tiny problem. Other whispers reached my ears, too. Why has she not become plump with child? They've been married for months.

And I heard his whispers. I was not lucky enough to escape those. Why is she so hesitant? I am her King!

Right now his confidence was on the surface, his bedroom doubts pushed away, settling disputes as would a master politician. He was born into his rule, just like me, but he had worked and earned the respect of his kingdom.

The lords stood, and as they exited, continuing to gossip and bicker, he slumped back in his chair, avoiding my gaze. Wine came freely to his hand, a maid... named Eliza, if I recalled correctly, poured. He stood from his seat, downing the glass in one go, and headed out, leaving his crown to one side. The gold was ornate, but heavy, and I knew it weighed heavily upon him.

I sent Eliza away, not wanting to bother the poor woman any further, and sank into my chair. Prince Richard told me they haven't consummated the marriage yet.

That rumour was the worst of all, because it was true. Sure, my husband was handsome, but... No buts, my darling, I heard my Lady Mother say, as I objected to the union, once. You will be the queen! You will bring honour to our family, my dear.

I hated the gaze of the courts; I hated every second of being his prisoner, and I felt guilty because I hadn't run away before our wedding. I'd stayed, and said my vows, eyes bagged and stomach roiling.

Why couldn't he have married one of my sisters?

"Is everything alright, my queen?"

I looked up from my sorrow to see another maid, this one... Julia. Forcing a smile, I said, "yes, thank you, Julia." It would be bad if I got too close to any of the maids, or rumours would start to spread. And maybe I'd be shipped off again.

I stood and wobbled, blushing as she caught me. "Thank you. Enjoy your evening." With a practiced sway of my hips that was as natural as breathing, I retreated to my study.

Hector greeted me with a tall glass of water and a delicate book about foreign reptiles, leaving me alone in the candle-lit dark with my thoughts. I always forgot to thank him for being so prepared, as I always went to the study when I was in distress, which grew more and more often these days.

The book tided me over until it was evening, and the dread grew insurmountable. I left a note on the desk for Hector, offering him congratulations on his newborn and excusing my dishevelled appearance. Of course, he always claimed he couldn't notice when I was in dire straits, but I knew it was a lie.

Hector was my one confidante, here, in this foreign land. People had always treated me differently because of my status. It was bad enough as a princess, but as a queen? I could hardly stand the pomp and ostentatious ceremony. I missed having dinner with the royal staff and joking about the time Ellie fell from the tree and pretended not to be hurt in front of her crush.

I'd earned that reputation back home. But here I was a stranger, to be pampered and taken care of. I left the study, not wanting to leave my desk a wet mess, and headed to my bedroom. Dinner didn't sit well with me anyway, these days.

Later, much later, my husband entered our room to find me relaxing on the bed, having cried enough that I was dry and unable to cry anymore. He slammed the door and took a swig from his wineglass before putting it down on a dresser.

"What the fuck do you want from me, woman?"

"Elliot, you've had a lot to drink." He staggered towards me.

"I'm fine!" He sat beside me. "I was just talking to the other lords, and they raise a point! You're always avoiding me! And our marriage is unfulfilled, you traitorous whore. Is it because of those wenches you fucked back home in your little piss water?"

"Elliot-"

"I am the king, damnit! I will have a son to take over for me after I'm done! I won't have that bastard Richard be king after I'm gone, or his snotty little brat."

"Elliot, please, let's talk-"

"Talk? I think we've done enough talking. Now, I'm going to fuck you. Tonight. Go get undressed."

My breath caught in my throat. My husband was nice, humble, normally... maybe I'd pushed him too far. I backed away, standing up out of bed.

"Patricia, you come back here or I swear..." he stood, tipsy enough to have to catch himself on his bedpost.

"Elliot, please..." I could do nothing but beg. He was my king, and my husband. I could not disobey his orders, no matter how much that fact betrayed every bit of my essence.

He grabbed my wrist, and I tried to pull away. "What is it you want from me?" He held on tight, even in his stupor too strong for me to escape.

I managed to find the fluids in me to cry more. "I don't want you! Don't you see? I never have, Elliot!"

He pulled away, letting me go in an instant. I stumbled backwards, knocking into the dresser and spilling the wine all over myself.

A knock came at the door. "Your majesty, is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, Marcus," I called.

"Everything's not bloody fine, Patricia. Look at you! Guard! Get a maid or two, send them up right away."

He retreated to the bed, sulking. "I should have known. I suppose deep down I did, but I should have guessed." He wiped his face, though I couldn't tell if it was sweat or tears. He turned to me. "But you are my wife, and I am to have a son. He will be ours, do you understand?"

I nodded, tears still flowing.

Another knock came at the door, and he beckoned them in. Two maids, Gertruda and Eliza, quickly helped me undress in the next room over and helped me clean up. I made sure to distract myself while they rubbed me down with cloths, not wanting to draw myself into a heat.

Despite the turmoil within me, the two of them were stunning, working every inch of my body until I was completely dry. "Thank you, and apologies for disturbing your slumber."

Gertruda smiled. "Of course, my queen." She giggled.

"What is it?"

"Oh, well, it's just funny that usually maids are the ones apologizing to their ladies, not the other way around. You really are fit to be a queen."

I blushed, returning to my bedroom. Marcus stood outside, and as the maids retreated, he stepped in front of me.

"My lady, is everything alright? Are you sure you want to sleep in there tonight?"

My lip trembled, but I nodded. "He is my husband, but thank you for your concern."

As I opened the door, Elliot's snoring echoing from the depths of my bedroom, Marcus grabbed my hand. It was a presumptuous action, one that some would have punished, but I melted in his embrace.

He shut the door quietly and snuck us off to a nearby guest room. "Thank you, Marcus."

"I know he's your husband, my lady, but... I don't know if I can stand by while-"

"That's enough. I must bear his child." He held me. "No matter how much it pains me to do so."

He nodded, pulling off his mail. "Would you like some company tonight, my lady?"

I narrowed my eyes. Of course, he would have ulterior motives. If he were to bed me, he could blackmail my husband easily, or he could use it to blackmail me.

I pushed him away. "No, Marcus. I am married."

He laughed. His laugh was cute, strangely. "No, my lady. I am comfortable sleeping on the floor. I am not so bold."

He stood from the bed, maintaining some distance between us.

"Then why are you being so nice to me? Isn't your king your first priority?"

He smiled. "May I tell you a secret?"

I nodded slowly. "Of course, though perhaps you would be better to tell-"

"I trust you. You are the only person besides headmaster Shaw who has learned all the staff's names, and you are good friends with Hector, whom I trust with all my heart."

I nodded. "Then go on."

"The reason I am so kind is because I know what it is like to be objectified, and to be assaulted by someone you trust."

He leaned forward. "My secret is... well, my real name is Princess Margaret, daughter of Lord Tremaine."

"What? How? Why?"

She... he? They put a finger to my lips. "Shh... I trust you not to tell anyone. If you did, I could be killed for impersonating a guard."

My thoughts were racing. Princess? Marcus?

"I was to be married off, just like you, and I couldn't bear it. So I ran. Eventually, I had to find a job, and so I cut my hair and made my way up the ranks of the palace guard. I don't know why, really, I just liked it, I guess."

"Wait. Before you go on, what should I call you?"

"Well, I suppose you will have to call me Marcus for the most part, though I've always felt Margaret suited me well, don't you think?" She fell into my lap, her frayed hair splaying. Now that I looked down at her, this young, amazing woman, I had to agree. Margaret suited her more.

Her weight on my legs reminded me of all the young women I'd had back home, and I was sent back to my bedroom in Castle Fallbrook. A shooting pain reminded me of where I was, and I pushed Margaret away so I could sob into her.

Her surely once-delicate hand, now obscured by years of practiced swordsmanship, stroked my hair, bringing me enough comfort to stave away the fears.

She looked down at me, a soft smile on her lips. Her boyish charm was intoxicating, and after forcing myself to stay away from women for so long, I couldn't hold back anymore.

I kissed her, dancing my hands up along her back. Hers rubbed my neck and reached down to my buttocks before she pulled away.

"I've always found you delightful to look at, my lady."

"Please, call me Pat."

"Okay, Pat. But are you sure that we should do this? You've just been through something traumatic."

"I don't care. My husband can open the door and watch. I've had enough waiting, praying to garner the strength to bear his children."

She pulled away. "I can't do this to you. Not while you're in this state of mind." She kissed my shoulder and stood. "I will be here as soon as you feel better, but I cannot abuse my power as your saviour tonight."

I nodded and fell back. "Okay. But... do you mind staying here until I fall asleep?"

"Of course."

She lay beside me, and I buried my face in her chest until I felt the night air drift away and the morning flow in.

I reached out, spreading my arms as I stretched, but she was nowhere to be found. Rubbing my eyes, I panicked for a moment until I saw her asleep on the floor, curled up on the hard stone. Her face was tranquil, bringing me an ounce of peace, before I stood and headed into the hall.

I crossed the way and entered my bedroom. Our bedroom. My husband was gone, and I used the opportunity to dress in my bathing clothes, meeting Helena in the bath, where she cleaned me and dressed me for the coming day.

The day went on as usual, fending off stares and glances from my husband's liege lords, avoiding his gaze as long as possible, averting my eyes when we met.

As lunch came to a close, he excused the staff from the dining room, leaving us alone. My stomach dropped, dreading what he had to say.

He took a swig of wine, his first of the day, from what I'd seen, and cleared his throat. "I... don't know where to start. First of all, I suppose an apology is in order. I promised to protect you in our vows, and even when you make me so angry..." he paused, taking a breath, allowing the colour to return to his knuckles, "... I must uphold that vow. It is important to me."

He took another sip of wine, deliberately extending the silence.

"I think I love you. I admit I do not know how to feel, knowing you harbour nothing but resentment towards me-"

"Elliot-"

"Let me finish. I... can't do this, Patricia. I have my advisors, sure, but I need someone in my corner." His eyes fell. "I thought it would be you, but I suppose I was wrong."

He leaned back in his chair, finished with his speech.

With a swallow of water, I thought about what to say. "I never said I felt nothing but resentment."

"You didn't need to. I can feel it in your gaze, the way you hold yourself in my presence. I am your warden, no?"

"I suppose there's a part of me that feels that way, but I am grateful to you. You didn't rape me on our wedding night, nor have you forced yourself upon me after these many arduous months."

I choked back a sob. I wasn't sure why I was crying, but the tears simply fell. "I'm sorry for being such a burden on you! I hate how they whisper and gossip, and how I can do nothing to dispel the rumours. I want nothing more than to find you attractive, to see you as a man worth giving myself to, but I cannot."

"I understand. I have a feeling we share similar tastes in mates."

He chuckled, and I laughed through the tears. "I revoke what I said last night. I am not sure how... but we will manage. Perhaps I can adopt a son from an orphanage. Perhaps we..."

"What if we say I'm infertile?"

He raised an eyebrow, leaning back and stroking his stubble. "An interesting proposition. But would the magister not insist on divining the truth?"

"I don't know... I just want you to have a woman to bed, and to be free of this nightmare."

He chuckled again. "I agree."

"Is infertility grounds for a dissolution?"

"Perhaps? I am not sure. It might certainly be grounds for an adoption or a surrogate."

"Would a surrogate hold the same political presence as a child carried by me?"

"If Richard decided to seize control after I'm gone, he would have more luck with a surrogate, and could easily oust an adopted child."

"Mmm." I leaned back. "Thank you, Elliot."

"Despite our challenges, you are still my wife. I am honourbound to do what is in both our best interests. If that means allowing you some free time with the maids... so be it."

I blushed. He knew me well, even though we barely talked anymore. "Thank you, again. You are a special man. I waste the title of your wife."

"Will you return to being my consultant, as we were before this debacle of a marriage?"

I nodded. "I would be honoured, my lord."

He downed his wine, clearing his throat. "I've been having trouble with the Magistrates' Union. They..."

Wine flowed, and the servants returned, and I gave him the council he so desperately sought. Even his councillors had their own agendas, so it was important to have someone on his team. I appreciated seeing him smile. He was a beautiful man, strong-hearted and able to carry the weight of the kingdom upon his shoulders.

But he needed me, and I realized I needed him. He was my best friend, and I loved him. I shook my head as he stood, thanking me for my time. "Of course, my lord."

I returned to my chambers, feeling secure once more. It had been months since this bed had felt like mine, and despite sharing it with Elliot, I fell asleep instantly.

As midnight rolled around, I awoke, Elliot snoring next to me. I snuck out to the hall to find Marcus leaning against his spear.

His eyes shot open. "My lady! How are you?" I grabbed his hand and dragged him into the spare room.

"Come here, Margaret."

"I saw you and Elliot earlier. You looked happy. It was nice to see."

I dragged her into the bed. "I need you. He gave me permission."

"Really? I find that hard to-"

I shut her mouth with a kiss, one that I'd yearned for all day. "Enough talking. You know what I want."

"Are you sure?"

I nodded. "Yes. We plan to find a surrogate mother, claiming I am infertile."

"A good plan," she said, kissing my collarbone. "A very... good... plan..." Her words trailed off as I unbuttoned my shirt, allowing my breasts to fall free.

As our bodies intertwined, I felt whole, my aching needs crashing over her delicate form, her rough hands tending to my every desire.

As the outside world faded until it was just the two of us, I was whole.

*****

Thanks for reading! Sorry there's no real sex in this one. It just felt wrong, almost exploitative of Pat and her struggles to write about her in such detail. Hope you enjoyed, regardless!