Chapter Tags: description of period, starting period, mentions of sex before marriage, religious references, kissing, guilt, fluff
Chapter WC: 2062
The King’s Blessing Masterlist
Your POV
When you open your eyes, it’s fairly dark besides the moon shining in through your windows. You can’t put your finger on what’s changed, but something feels different, and there’s a dull ache in the base of your stomach. You rub your eyes to wake them a little more and sit up, noticing there’s a warm wet patch on the bed. At first, you consider the worst has happened; somehow you’ve managed to have an accident like a little child. But then you frown because that wouldn’t make sense. You’re eighteen years old, there’s no way you’d do something like that. Throwing the covers back you look down between your legs to see crimson staining your nightdress and the bed beneath you. It’s a darker colour than you’ve seen yourself bleed before, and you scramble further up the bed in pure shock when it sinks in that it’s blood.
As you scramble off the bed, your heart starts to beat a little faster in your chest, your thighs feeling warm and sticky as you stare at the patch of blood in your bed and then frantically begin stripping your spoiled clothes, right the way down to your undergarments. But those are spoiled too, and finally, you’re naked, and you can see the blood staining the skin on the inside of your thighs. You don’t feel injured, especially not enough to cause this much blood, nothing besides a slight stomach ache. Your heart starts racing now, and then it all starts to click into place.
You’re bleeding; you’ve become a woman.
There’s a vast mixture of emotions that floods through you at the realisation. The first is fear. You’ve never bled before, and you’re not too sure how you’re supposed to handle it, what you’re supposed to do about it now. The next is a relief that the day has finally come. You’d heard people whispering about how long it was taking, you knew Mary – a woman herself – was impatient and concerned about it, too. You weren’t too dumb to realise that if the King and Queen got too impatient, they could’ve sent you back to Elming and forced Dean to marry someone who was of age instead, whether you were betrothed or not. The thought leads you to your final emotion which is excitement. You’re finally a woman, which means you finally get to marry Dean.
The two of you have waited so long for this moment, that you’re hardly thinking straight as you find a new nightdress to wear and dress in it. You know it’s improper, you know that the king would be more than angry if he found out what you were about to do, but you and Dean have waited years for this moment. You want him to be the first to know the good news.
With a lit lantern in your grasp, you begin to flee down the castle’s halls, in the direction of Dean’s sleeping chambers. The castle is dark and eerily quiet; your lantern is the only source of light and your feet are the only sources of sound as they pad softly on the flagstone floor. You stop in your tracks at the sight of Benjamin, Dean’s guard, standing close by to his door, and bite your bottom lip. You hadn’t thought this far ahead. You hadn’t considered that a sleeping prince may be guarded.
You like Benjamin, he’s kind and funny, and he and Dean get on very well, acting more like friends than a prince and his guard. Benjamin seems to like you, too. He’s always the perfect gentleman, though you can’t help but wonder if that’s just because you’re a princess and promised to be his queen one day. Regardless, you can’t imagine that he likes you enough to let you into Dean’s sleeping chambers in the middle of the night before you’re even his wife. Though, Benjamin always has respected your privacy and relationship, hardly ever hanging around when the two of you take romantic walks or go down to the lake where you like to spend a lot of your time. He seems to be on your side. Plus, you’re just so excited to tell Dean the good news, and you don’t have to stay long. You’re not Dean’s bride just yet, so besides telling him the news, there’s not much other business you’d have in Dean’s sleeping chambers, anyway.
You decide to be brave and confident as you turn the corner and walk toward the guard with your head held high. Benjamin straightens up a little when he sees you approach, and then bows his head.
“Your highness, I’m surprised to see you at his hour,” he comments.
“I wish to speak with my betrothed, it’s urgent,” you tell him as confidently as you can.
“Should the king be informed? Is there something the matter?” Benjamin blinks at you, his blue eyes suddenly seeming softer and filled with more concern.
“No, nothing of the sort,” you try to reassure him. “This matter won’t take long, I just wish to speak with Prince Dean.”
“Your beloved is sleeping, my lady,” Benjamin replies, “perhaps this can wait until morning?”
You open your mouth, about to be stubborn, but then Dean’s door creaks open and Dean peers around it, a little bleary-eyed with his hair messier than you’ve seen it before.
“What’s happening out here?” he grunts out, and then his eyes land on you and he seems to compose himself a little better. “Benjamin, why would you leave my love standing out here at such an hour?” Dean wastes no time reaching for your wrist to drag you inside his chambers.
You want to reassure the guard that nothing indecent will be happening between the two of you, but Dean is too quick to pull you into his chambers and close the door behind you. You take in the room for a moment having never been inside here before. It’s far larger than your own, the bed far bigger with couches and an open fireplace, a deer’s head hung above it. You like it, and it makes you smile as you imagine Dean spending his time here, but then the very same man speaks up again and draws your attention back to him.
“My love, is something wrong?” he urges, concern written all over his face.
When you finally spend the time taking in the prince in front of you, you realise he isn’t dressed from the waist up, and you’re staring at your half-naked betrothed. You’ve never seen a man in so little clothing before, especially not this up close. It makes you feel a little strange inside, like the first time Dean held your hand at the lake, or the time he brushed his knuckles down your cheek and you almost kissed.
“You can tell me, Y/N. Whatever it is, we’ll work it out together.”
You realise Dean is still concerned, and rush to put him out of his distress.
“There’s nothing wrong, my love,” you reassure him, a smile creeping to your lips. “I’m sorry for waking you so late, but you’re the first person I wanted to tell.”
“Tell me what?” Dean asks, curiously.
“I’ve become a woman,” you tell him, before biting your lip as you anxiously await his response.
Dean’s face seems to change slowly from suspense to surprise, his eyebrows raising, his eyes widening, and a smile slowly creeping over his lips.
“You’ve bled?” he checks, and you nod your head in confirmation.
“We can finally become man and wife,” you remind him.
Dean begins to laugh excitingly, reaching out to grab your hands and squeeze them.
“Are you sure?” he checks, trying to compose himself.
“I’m pretty sure,” you laugh, nodding your head.
“Oh fuck,” Dean beams. “We’re getting married!”
The excitement finally fills your veins too, especially when you see just how elated Dean is with the good news. It only confirms that he really does want to marry you. He looks like a child who has been given the best gift they could’ve ever asked for. And that’s you. You’re the gift to Dean.
Dean is still bouncing on his feet excitedly, clearly unable to control himself, and then he pulls you closer, and you have the urge to kiss him, seemingly at the same time he also feels the urge. Your lips meet for a brief second, but the feeling of lips pressed against yours is enough to snap you back to reality just enough to pull away. Just because you are getting married doesn’t mean you’re married yet and can do that sort of thing. What if God witnessed that and decides to strike you down before you can even walk down the aisle?
But all your thoughts are interrupted when you feel that buzzing feeling inside of you again, only this time it’s a thousand times stronger than the time he held your hand, or the time you almost kissed. It feels like every inch of your body is on fire and it swims through your veins like a tidal wave. You’ve only just realised your chest is heaving, as is Dean’s as you just stare at each other wide-eyed. And God help you, but you want to feel it again.
You step forward, prompting Dean to do the same, and he reaches up, holding your face in his hands as he tilts your head towards him and then leans down and kisses you again. Slower this time, more gentle like he’s afraid of breaking you. Your whole body almost sags into the kiss, but Dean wraps his arms around you and holds you close, and then begins to part his lips, so you follow suit, not having the first idea about how you’re supposed to kiss someone. But Dean is clearly very good at this, so you want to try and keep up with him. His tongue begins to lick along your bottom lip, and then slowly pushes into your mouth, and you let out an involuntary whimper at the sensation.
Between your legs almost feels uncomfortable, like there’s pulsing down there, but you ignore it, too swept up in kissing who will soon be your husband. Surely God can forgive you for this? Dean is still your betrothed, and you’re not going to be lying with him before your wedding night.
You step back eventually, your lips tingling and your head spinning, and you reach up and softly press your fingertips to your lips, feeling the ghost of Dean’s mouth still pressed against yours.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” you tell him on an exhale, feeling your cheeks heat up.
“Maybe not, but I wanted to.”
“Me too,” you confess, hoping God isn’t listening.
“And we get to do a lot more than that soon,” he adds with a cheeky grin.
You giggle slightly, the idea making you a little nervous. But if it feels anything like that kiss you just shared, maybe it’s nothing to be nervous about, after all. You suppose you’ll get a small idea of what it’ll be like when King John blesses you. At the very reminder, the smile falls from your face, and you feel a little sick. You’d not let yourself worry about being blessed too much until now, but now that you’re a woman, and the moment is imminent, you feel a little claustrophobic. You want to marry Dean as soon as possible, but before that can happen, you must first give your innocence to his father, and that alone makes you want to wait a hundred more years to marry Dean.
“What’s wrong?” Dean asks, noticing your change in behaviour right away.
“The blessing,” you manage to choke out. “I’m not ready, Dean,” you confess.
Dean takes a deep breath and licks his lips, before nodding his head. “Then we’ll keep this between you and me for a little longer,” he tells you.
Instantly you shake your head, “the longer we keep this to ourselves, the longer we must wait to be married,” you remind him.
“Hey, baby girl,” Dean soothes, stepping closer once more. “What have I told you before? I’d wait a hundred lifetimes for you.”
“What if he finds out we kept it from him?” you worry next.
“He won’t,” Dean insists. “I promise.”
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